"Diversity Explosion: How New Racial Demographics are Remaking America" by William H. Frey

I read this for the same bookclub that did "The Next America."  In a clever twist, the club had taken four books on similar themes, and broken us up into groups, with each person picking one of the books to read.  We liked the titles, and the discussion, so much last time that we decided to rotate.  "Diversity Explosion" seemed like an extrapolation of "The Next America."  If you had taken a few chapters from the Pew Research book, and drilled down (really, really drilled down) into the numbers, the result would be "Diversity Explosion."  I like numbers, but even for me, this one was a bit much.  "The Next America" used the numbers to support essays on topics like interracial marriage, and Boomers vs. Millennials.  This book was nothing but data, and made more for skimming than reading, with a sense of the "big picture" coming through.  What I got was this:  The Sun Belt is "the" place to be now.  The word "minority" is no longer accurate.  There are distinct differences in generations of immigrants, so lumping in foreign-born with first generation can be very problematic.  The DC area is an outlier for almost every statistic in this book.  Even within culture and racial groups, there is tremendous diversity.  Am I glad I read the book?  Yes.  The information supported many of my assumptions, and challenged others.  It's good to keep these hard numbers in front of us -- it reminds the people of this nation that we are nothing if not about change.  As the grandchild of immigrants, I often think, this is the next wave of something that will help transform us.  It is worth the time to read these titles about the shifts taking place in this country.  Just, when it comes to this book, don't get lost in the graphs and charts.

"Boundless" by Kenneth Oppel

Kenneth Oppel returns to his very slight Steampunk roots in this action-packed tale of a boy, a train, a bunch of bad guys, a circus, and a monster or two.  Like "Airborn," the plucky young hero, Will Everett, has a spirit of adventure and a willingness to do what it takes.  Page-turning isn't enough of a phrase to explain the nonstop adventures, tied into a teensy bit of mystery, that you will find here.  It was the first book I've read in a while that I stayed up for -- reading into the night because I had to know what would happen next.  I like Oppel's writing.  This is the third book of his that I have gobbled up.  His characters are engaging and intriguing, his plots a little unexpected, and his prose is clean and accessible without being simplistic.  In fact, for the mature reader, there are little tidbits -- allusions to other stories, to real historical people and events, a kind of circular setup to the tale -- but it is all subtle.  Nothing hits you over the head.  The story, like the characters, is also not fully black and white, but very shaded with gray.  Reading Oppel's work is a real treasure.  I was glad to have another opportunity to explore this fun, interesting author.

"Terrier" by Tamora Pierce

Oh, the drama.  At long last, I had a window to just read "what I wanted" and went for Tamora Pierce (who wouldn't?).  Her Lioness Quartet is one of my favorite series of all time.  But things did not go well.  First, there was an issue with my eBook portal, and I couldn't access the book for a few weeks, then, I got busy at work and didn't have time to read much.  Finally, I got a hard copy at the public library.  So, it took me two and a half months (I think) to read this book.  Which was probably not the best way to read any book, much less this dense fantasy tale with a gazillion pages.  I'm not sure how much all the issues impacted my perceptions, but as much as I love Tammy Pierce's work, this wasn't a favorite.  That's not to say it's bad.  Tamora Pierce doesn't write bad.  It just wasn't my cup of tea.  Set in the same world as the Alanna books, this series takes place hundreds of years later, in a kind of medieval period, when magic is more of a little thing and there is an emergent society with guilds, societal classes, and law.  Beka Cooper, our lead, is a young girl who has just joined law enforcement as a trainee.  The officers are called dogs and the newbies are called puppies.  Society is still a little off-kilter, with Rogues, or criminals, running most of the lower class areas, and law enforcement accepting codified bribes.  On the plus side, there is no one like Tamora Pierce in terms of world-building.  Her city (or, in the case of this tale, section of a city) is so palpable that you can see every detail of it, hear it, and even smell it, as you are reading.  Her characters are also extremely three dimensional -- complex and specific and real.  Like most human beings, the characters here are conflicted and nothing is black and white.  Beka, although not perfect, is also very likeable, as are her wide assortment of colleagues and friends.  The language reflects the tale, with a different kind of vocabulary and syntax.  This, however, is where I first had problems.  Given that I wasn't able to sit down and "fall into" the story, I had to remind myself, each time I returned to the book, what certain terms and phrases meant (when I got the print copy of the book, I discovered a glossary at the back).  The setting of the novel is also fairly dark.  Sometimes dark is okay, but I just wasn't in the mood.  I also didn't adore the minor love interest.  Too many bad boy crushes these days.  Time for the decent guys to come out on top.  That, however, would not work here, where there is a slight "anti-hero" vibe going on.  My biggest complaint is that the plotlines didn't seem to have the weight or importance of your standard fantasy novel.  This wasn't a "kill the dragon/monster/whatever and save the world" as much as it was a "girl detective solves murder mysteries."  The stakes just weren't high enough for me to want to push through the chapters.  It also wasn't what I expected, and sometimes, even when something is good, you don't like it because of your expectations.  Live and learn.  Next time I read something "for myself" it will be in print form, and I will make sure I really have the time to relish in it.

"The Crossover" by Kwame Alexander

This award-winning verse novel has a grounding in Basketball and Hip Hop.  And it says something that despite the fact that I am not into either Basketball or Hip Hop, I enjoyed it.  Did take me a while to get into it, given the number of references early on that I did not get.  But there is power in this family story -- it is, in the end, a story about family -- which has a universal appeal.  Two twin brothers, Jordan and Josh, are seventh grade b-ball phenoms who fall for their first girl.  As in, they fall for the ~~same~~ girl.  And they fall for her while in the playoffs.  As imagined, this doesn't go well.  Far beyond the sibling rivalry, however, is the story of a father and son, of growing up, and of love despite the odds.  Like most verse novels, there is a tendency to skim the pages.  Don't.  The rhythms and subtleties of the tale could be missed.  Also, take time to "look" at the pages, as some of the work borders on concrete poetry.  It is a story which pulled me in unexpectedly -- sweet and funny and real until an ending comes which I both expected and hoped against hope wouldn't happen.  I was grabbing at the tissues with both hands.  Don't let the basketball/male themes throw you off.  This is truly a book for everyone.

"El Deafo" by Cece Bell

FINALLY got a copy of this uber-popular graphic novel that nearly every student in APS seems to have read this year.  The semi-autobiographical story is that of Cece as a child, when an early illness left her with hearing loss.  The resultant hearing aides (think 1970s) was so big and bulky that it made her feel very self-conscious and isolated.  But that isn't really the point of the tale.  It's a story about growing up and making friends (or not).  Ms. Bell's chapters show a realistic slice of life that all can relate to.  There is the friend who seems nice, but isn't, the friend who bosses you around, the friend who looks down on you -- and putting up with it all because having a friend is better than being lonely, which can feel like a big bubble separating you from the world.  Somehow, the graphic novel format is perfect for this, with Cece's character marching around in a bubble, looking lost.  Interestingly enough, it's more engaging than it is depressing or sad.  The bright colors and slick pages are enticing and help brighten the mood and put the narrative in perspective.  With the characters portrayed as rabbits (kinda, sorta), there is additional universal appeal because the book, while good for mid-ranges (grades 4 to 8) is not clearly defined as a "girl book" or "boy book."  We get it -- growing up isn't nearly as fun as adults think, and the day to day struggles make you want to fantasize about having the power to really make a change in your life -- which you can't.  Brava to Ms. Bell for sharing her struggles with us, including a brutal honesty that even her main character messes up (a lot).  A very worthy and appealing read on multiple levels.  This one deserves the fame.

"The Book With No Pictures" by B.J. Novak

For a book with only words (NO pictures!) this read-aloud left me somewhat wordless.  It is hysterically funny.  One can hear the ridiculousness coming off of every page.  At a recent book event, one parent mentioned that her son (older than one might think for this book) has read it over and over and over.  Very easy to see why.  I was tempted to myself.  Others mentioned hearing their kids laughing out loud while sitting and reading it (yes, I did too).  Don't want to go on and on here -- saying too much would ruin it, but you simply have to check this one out and/or read it aloud to a child.  No matter what your skill level, this will be the best read-aloud you've ever done.  And I dare you not to laugh.

Transcript: Supreme Court Hearings on Gay Marriage Cases

This is proof that reading is reading, no matter what you read.  I took a  break in my regular reading of YA novels to look at the actual arguments before the court on this hot-bed issue.  I find the arguments in these cases to be fascinating, because there is an attempt to look at the law, impartially, in highly emotionally charged topics.  I also like "smart", and these are very, very smart people.  The precedents cited are also interesting.  I studied Lawrence in my school law class, and have a "slightly" personal connection to Loving, as my family moved to Virginia in the 1960s and were shocked at the difference in race relations here, as opposed to their native California.  In any case, it's all very intriguing.  The arguments were strong, but circular, as the Supreme Court justices repeatedly pointed out in their challenges to the lawyers making these cases.  The impact of approving gay marriage is a civil rights issue that would have far-reaching consequences.  Questions remain -- is marriage a religious institution, or a government one?  Is it an institution within the domain of the federal government, or in the purview of the states?  Should civil rights like these be decided by the electorate?  (Here, I have to say no.  If we had waited for the electorate to vote on civil rights for blacks, we would still be waiting.  On a personal level, I think the government sometimes has to step in and protect certain classes rather than wait on societal opinion to catch up.)  No matter what the outcome, the justices clearly want to make "good law."  I think the reason they turned back the Prop 8 case is because it didn't have enough meat to hang a major decision on.  It is clear that when they rule on this in June, they will be careful to be solid in how they write the majority opinion, so that it withstands any future challenges.  And, I'll say it now -- my money is on 6 to 3 for the plaintiffs.

"Greenglass House" by Kate Milford

This one is complex.  So complex that I was surprised 5th graders at a local elementary school selected it as a favorite, but then we tend to constantly underestimate kids and what they can get from the books they read.  This one reads like a magical twist on an Agatha Christie tale.  There are tons of themes -- adoption, mystery, geography, role-playing games, history, ghosts.  This is a story inside a story inside a story, all with an ever-so-slight Steampunk atmosphere.  There is a boy, Milo, who lives in an a smuggler's inn at the top of a hill.  There are unexpected guests in the dead of winter, who bring with them stories of their own and a book with more stories.  There are good guys, bad guys and people with secrets.  Most of all, there is a local legend or two adding to the atmosphere of it all.  Did I like the book?  I did.  I wish I had been able to curl up with it and read it through, since my stop and start routine did not lend itself to an appreciation of the many twists and turns.  I did find it a challenging read.  The prose was not eloquent, and I guessed at a huge reveal very (very) early in the tale, which may have taken away some of the punch at the climax.  On a personal level, I felt some of the many threads were left unexplained, and, like mysteries of old, there are false clues that lead nowhere.   Nonetheless, Ms. Milford has created a rich, layered world here, and it is easy to see how a reader would "fall into it" and the variety of characters she has invented.  Students voted this as a favorite pick, so I say to "check it out."

"Ophelia and the Marvelous Boy" by Karen Foxlee

There have been a host of books lately, "Splendors and Glooms", "The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of Her Own Making", "Tangle of Knots" etc., which have a kind of classic children's book charm.  Written in solid, accessible, but engaging prose, "Ophelia and the Marvelous Boy" joins those novels that seem eternal.  This was written in 2014, but could have been written in 1950, or 2120, as the appeal is fairly universal.  Using a bit of magical realism in a "different" take on the Snow Queen tale, this is both a very simple story, and a sophisticated one.  Ophelia is dealing with the loss of her mother, her disaffected father, a distant teen sister and a trip to a "foreign" city, along with a mysterious museum, where the contents change from hour to hour.  She meets the Marvelous Boy but does not believe his story.  Ophelia is a girl of Science, of groundedness, but the aching hole in her wants to reach out and believe in something greater.  The adventure begins. 

One interesting note is that I had a kind of Narnia flashback at one point with some subtle Christian symbolism, but by and large, readers are not likely to see it unless they are looking for it.  On the whole, I greatly enjoyed this book.  There is a kind of "otherworldlyness" that comes out.  Foxlee joins a glittering host of authors from Australia gracing U.S. bookshelves these days.  Like Craig Silvey, Markus Zusak, Melina Marchetta, Jaclyn Moriarty and more, there is a difference here.  The world Foxlee creates has an ethereal quality, a small sense of the unfamiliar.  Most of the short chapters begin with an amusing summary, as in "In which Ophelia Jane Worthington-Whittard discovers a boy in a locked room and is consequently asked to save the world."  The subtle, tongue-in-cheek humor runs throughout and makes an engaging book even that more delightful.  This isn't just a page-turner, it's one you will stay up to finish.  The end comes abruptly, after significant build-up, and I'm still deciding if I liked it.  On one hand, things wrapped up so quickly, I was left with a moment of tears, but on the other hand -- do you really want to wax on when everything is said and done?  Perhaps this is not a book that needs a lengthy denouement.  This is one case where the author seems to say exactly what she needed to.

"The Next America" by Paul Taylor and the Pew Research Center

OMG, I loved this book.  But then, I like numbers, and not everyone does.  For the non-data nerd, there is still a lot of interest here.  For one thing, the writing.  Paul Taylor's strong, often amusing, writing style (there were times when I guffawed, outright) is entertaining, engaging, and challenging from the get-go.  This one looks at the four living generations (The Silents, Boomers, Gen-X and Millennials) in a personal, realistic way and uses data to say who they are, where they are, where they are going, and what conflicts or challenges are in their paths.  While the tone is light, in general, the end-point, the future of Social Security, is deeply serious.  Mr. Taylor makes clear that Social Security is simply not going exist if left unchanged, and it is likely to be left unchanged because no one willing to fix it can get elected.  Some of it may challenge assumptions, such as the chapters on immigration and religion.  Some of it is thought provoking, such as the chapter on race, and why we continue to insist on racial qualifiers in a society that is quickly moving beyond any of the descriptors we use.  Absolutely no stone is left unturned.  Time is given to explain the paradoxical responses people make in surveys, showing how question-phrasing has a huge role in outcome; Taylor even takes time to talk about what a "generation" is, where the idea came from, and leaves us with the intriguing idea that this, too, is an artificial construct.  Given that I don't quite fit "my" generation, I appreciated his honesty and forthrightness in addressing many of the questions that people like me (who squeaked out slightly between the booms) seem to face.  Maybe not everyone will enjoy this chart-heavy book, but it is information collected by the Pew Research Center, and you kind of got to love a group that is always investigating the often wide gap between our behaviors and our beliefs.  In the end, it is the "story of us" and who doesn't like to read about themselves?

"Driven by Data: A Practical Guide to Improve Instruction" by Paul Bambrick-Santoyo

For a book of this type, this one is fairly good.  By "this type" I mean a textbook format one might come across in a university-level education course.  It is very readable, has a streamlined, linear approach I like, and didn't get too repetitive.  For those who mentally wander when reading these kinds of things (I do), there are nice summary boxes to reinforce concepts at the end of each section.  The chapters are short, blissfully light on edu-speak, and have a lot of real-world examples to drive home the point.  The point, for the record, is fairly simple.  Schools can dramatically improve performance by following three simple steps and one slightly challenging step:  1) Employ rigorous interim assessments, 2) Analyze the assessments quickly and thoroughly, 3) Take action and re-teach, 4) Create a culture where this is commonplace.  Guess which one is slightly challenging?  (and that's an understatement).  It is no surprise that my favorite chapter in the book was the one on culture.  In my nearly three decades on the job, I have learned that nothing, absolutely no initiative or goal, trumps culture. 

What I also liked about this book was that it didn't shy away from failure, highlighting the widespread reasons why initiatives like this fail.  The results are impressive.  They take a number of 90/90/90 schools (90% minority, 90% free and reduced lunch and 90% fail rates) and turn them around using this method.  Personally, I can see how it would work.  The challenge is that your school would have to do this, and this alone.  No other initiatives, no other goals, just this.  Not likely in systems that pride themselves on multi-goal programming and have diverse populations that don't fit into the 90/90/90 model.  Which brings another question.  This method was highly successful at specific schools -- most of which seem to be charter schools, independent schools, academies.  Would it work for an entire school system?  A fully public school with open enrollment?  Unclear.  Could we, in our state, de-emphasize the annual high-stakes testing to focus almost entirely on formative assessments?  Unlikely.  Nonetheless, I liked the message of this book, and got a number of good take-aways.  See this as a good option for those willing to be brave.

"My Heart & Other Black Holes" by Jasmine Warga

Interesting.  Very similar to "All the Bright Places" in many ways.  Again, we have an author writing a story about suicide because of a personal experience.  Again, we have an improbable relationship between two people who come across each other at the darkest moments of their lives, and again, we have a school assignment that pushes them to explore the world a bit.  With all the similarities, however, the conclusion is very different.  In many ways, this one had the ending I wanted that I didn't get in "All the Bright Places" -- but did I like it better?  As mentioned, I didn't like the other book's ending, but it did feel real.  In this story, the circumstances feel a tad forced, even if the characters ring painfully and powerfully real.  I particularly liked Aysel's description of her depression as "a black slug" inside her that eats away at everything good.  It is a vivid description, and a very accurate one, IMHO.  I also liked her dead-end job as a telemarketer.  Not only is it the perfect description of a purposeless life, but the snapshots of the people she speaks with communicate volumes about our isolation, and our connections.  Because we only see her point of view, this one is a bit more lovey-dovey than the other book.  There are no male perspectives here to temper her voice as she falls head over heels in love, although, as Aysel begins to see herself through the eyes of Roman, he is able to show her a reflection she doesn't expect.  Finally, I liked the fact that the parents here are complex, and not cut-outs.  They have dimension and don't respond the way you would think they do.  If you read both books, you may feel obligated to do a compare and contrast, but it is a worthwhile read in any case.  And this one won't leave you feeling devastated.

“The Boy in the Black Suit” by Jason Reynolds

For a novel about the death of a parent, this one is both gentle and sweet, rather than overwhelmingly sad.  Matt is suffering – falling asleep each night listening to the same song over and over, eating take-out rather than cook a meal, dealing with his father’s spiral down to a very dark place.  But the story is not dark.  Matt has a spirit which draws you to him.  There is something very uplifting about this young man.  He has strength and determination and a support system in the form of an interesting neighbor and a good friend.  The suit Matt wears for his job at an area funeral home is symbolic.  It is like the structure and formality holding him together when he would rather fall apart – but this is not a young man to let go.  He is seeking something, he doesn’t know what, to align this loss with his life as a whole.  A fast read, the voices here are real and compelling.  And it is not depressing.  This is more of a tale about coming out of the dark than going in.  Definitely worth the read.

“Sway” by Kat Spears

A G-rated cover belies the truly R-rated content of this tongue-in-cheek novel with laugh-out-loud dark humor.  Kat Spears proves that women can write down and dirty, expletive-filled novels about sex, drugs and rock ‘n roll as well as any guy.  Jesse has all the connections and smarts of Veronica Mars without any of the moral compass.  He deals drugs, has little regard for the people he manipulates, and claims not to be a panderer, but is exactly that – over and over.  The problem is, he encounters someone good.  Not good in a goody-two shoes way (okay, a little), but someone who is genuine.  It sets up a conflict within him that puts a spin in his operations and sends him down a path he didn’t see coming.  For a guy who has all the angles figured out, this is a problem.  What kept me coming back to this anti-hero protagonist was the reality that despite his “sway,” this young man is very lost.  Jesse, entrenched in his antics, is a contemplative, intelligent guy, who has some awareness of the world around him, even as he loses control of it.  He is depressed but not depressing, and has a survivor’s core I admire.  The novel touches on themes of concern but the story keeps perspective at a reasonable level.  I enjoyed this book, but then, my sense of humor is not typical.  Others, who share with me my odd sense of what constitutes “funny,” should enjoy it as well.

"All the Bright Places" by Jennifer Niven

***Spoiler Alert***

Jennifer Niven, an experienced adult author, enters new territory with this touching, tender book for the YA market. Theodore and Violet are made for each other -- in so many ways.  They are both "broken" and yet, in their darkest moments, they find solace and laughs, joy and healing when they come together.  For a book that begins with a possible suicide, I found it to be very life-affirming (and tremendously well-written) until the end.  It's not that the end is bad -- it's not.  It simply goes where I was really, really, really, hoping it would not go.  The author had "A Point" to make, and she made it -- without being heavy-handed and moralistic.  She simply let the tale go where it kind of had to.  Which, unfortunately, I hated.  I didn't cry as much as get angry.  Why couldn't Ms. Niven provide an "out"?  Jacqueline Woodson, when hounded about the end of "If You Come Softly" stated that she wrote 12 endings for the book, but only one rang true.  And so it was, I suspect, with this book.  Told in alternating point-of-view chapters, it is easy to connect with characters who feel very real (and, if you read the afterward, based on real people kinda sorta).  Taking them in a "happy shining" direction may satisfy my girly wishes, but would likely have undercut the power of the story, particularly for one character, who comes to a level of peace and understanding that the author may never have found in her own experience.  For fans of novels like "13 Reasons Why" there is some closure, but not a lot, as situations like this are far more complex than we can imagine.  Don't avoid it because of the end, however.  This is a page-turning novel that will suck you in and it is totally worth it.  So worth it, that a movie based on the novel is in production now.  As always, read it before you see it.

"Wherever You Go, There You Are" by Jon Kabat-Zinn

I had been interested in reading this book for some time as it was constantly being quoted in Yoga classes.  A little "added stress" in my life and I pulled it off my rather impressive pile.  It was a good call, but I don't think I read it correctly.  This is a manual, a handbook of sorts, helping readers to be more mindful, to practice mindfulness, and the impact that mindfulness can bring to your life.  I tried, as I do with all books, to read the whole thing through, as my list of "to read" is constantly growing.  Ideally, what I should have done is read it in small bites, not big gulps.  The chapters are short and grouped.  Reading one to three chapters in a sitting is preferable than 50 or more pages at a time.  You need time to absorb the sometimes very deep, dense text, and other times you simply need to think about what was said.  Quotes from a wide variety of people -- from Walt Whitman to Lao Tzu -- pepper the end of each section.  I liked the center sections the best, where Kabat-Zinn breaks out different ways of meditating and "being present."  Although I practice many of them already, it was nice to step back and examine that a bit.  I particularly liked his suggestion of doing walking meditation in a grocery store, as no one cares how slowly you go when you have a cart in front of you.  That one made me laugh.  He did, of course, go over the wonders of getting up with the dawn.  I've occasionally found that to be a lovely experience when it happens naturally, but these days, watching sunrise from my car window on my way to work, I'm not always feeling it.  It was a nice reminder to appreciate the moment.  He did something odd at the end of the book, however.  Some will enjoy it, others, not so much.  I was kind of on the fence.  He had several chapters on parenthood.  These seemed fairly personal and some sort of catharsis -- which was an odd contrast to the didactic nature of the rest of the book.  Since I am not a parent, I couldn't fully connect, although some of his stories were amusing.  I honestly didn't know what to make of the whole "dirty cat dish" tale other than he was trying to make a public apology to his wife.  He then went on to try and separate the focus of this book from spiritualism.  Given that many of the quotes he used were from spiritual leaders, this seemed odd.  Again, it felt as if he was trying to use that section to speak to a specific reader, rather than readers at large.  In any case, I did find this book to be both interesting and useful.  For me, I was able to take from it "what I took from it" -- and suggest you do the same.

"The Five Stages of Andrew Brawley" by Shaun David Hutchinson

Reading this for an upcoming conference, I was quite blown away, initially, by very strong, occasionally lyric, writing.  Andrew's story is powerful and the premise fascinating.  The inclusion of cartoons was interesting -- I didn't get most of them, but they increase the appeal for teen readers, I suspect.  Andrew is in his own "five stages" (hence the title) after losing his family.  The path he takes, and the feelings he wrestles with, are hidden in metaphors within a carefully woven tale.  Given the subject matter, it wasn't overly dark.  There is a good deal of light humor, realistic day-to-day living and terrific character descriptions.  There is even love, with a message or two about how making connections is the path to life.  As with all books destined for school shelves, there are questions -- is the language strong?  Yes, so keep this one at high school.  Is religion, which is touched on a good bit, appropriate?  Yes, I believe so.  No one religion is put over another, although various characters embrace or don't embrace it as they feel so compelled.  Religious conversation is natural, I believe, for young people facing death, as it is so "out of sync" with the natural rhythms of the world.  The book is both predictable and not.  While I guessed at some of the back-stories and character motivations, I was truly shocked by one turn I didn't expect.  My only beefs with the novel are, as is often the case, timeline and character age as well as length.  I felt that the book could have wrapped up way earlier, as the last few chapters before the climax seemed circular and didn't add much to the final outcomes.  As to age and timeline, it is made clear on the first page that Andrew is 17.  His reflections seem young for his age, which make sense if the event that took his family happened when he was 14, which is hinted at early on.  Later, however, it is made clear that he was at least 16 when it happened.  And it is never clear as to whether Andrew has been in his current dilemma for a few months or a full year.  It was a distraction in an otherwise good story.  This one will appeal to fans of the now-cancelled "Red Band Society" TV show and John Green's Fault in Our Stars.

Caldecott Nods

With awards season looming, I've been trying to skim through as many of the Caldecott possible picks as I can.  In very brief form, here are my takes "thus far":

Blizzard by John Rocco.  Easily a favorite.  Subtle use of line and perspective, added to a universal story, make this one a keeper.  Art fans will enjoy how he hints at transitions and tone with his style, kids will love it for the fold-out map. 

Circle, Square, Moose by Kelly Bingham, illustracted by Paul Zelinsky.  Hysterical.  Truly, just as laugh-out-loud funny, and clever, as the first title.  In a dark world, something this enjoyable should not be missed.

The Farmer & the Clown by Marla Frazee.  Heavily reminiscent of The Arrival by Shaun Tan, this muted, wordless book evokes a sense of the 1930s and has a European sensibility.  Nonetheless, kids really like it, "getting" the premise.

My Grandfather's Coat by Jim Aylesworth, illustrated by Barbara McClintock.  Another detailed book that can yield new discoveries with every read.  I like it, but feel it is too similar to another book with the same theme which won awards a few years back.  Also reminds me of Allen Say's work. 

Gravity by Jason Chin.  I liked this one a lot.  Subtle, clever, artwork that leaps out at you, just a "touch" of education in the mix and a tale you have to read carefully to fully get.  I seem to like it more than some of the kids, unfortunately.  The ones who get it like it, the ones who don't are just confused.  And no, it has nothing to do with the movie. 

My Teacher is a Monster by Peter Brown.  Oh yeah.  A favorite of kids and librarians alike, this one has a complex message that "speaks" to every reader.  A few have said this is a "must read" for every teacher. 

The Pilot and the Little Prince by Peter Sis.  I love Peter Sis.  Tibet Through the Red Box is probably one of my all-time favorites.  I learned a lot in this book, which now has me looking at Antoine de Saint-Expuery's Little Prince through very different eyes.  The problem is that I think he is "too much" for the very young.  If they like his books, great, but this is one of those cases of a picture book for older students (IMHO). 

Quest by Aaron Becker.  Like its predecessor, Journey, Quest is imaginative, rich, beautiful, and a true homage to Harold and the Purple Crayon.  Also similar to the 1990s computer games Myst and Riven, Becker imagines a layered world here, with puzzles and mysteries to be solved.  Another wordless book, astute young readers enjoy trying to figure out the messages inside the messages. 

The Misadventures of Sweetie-Pie by Chris Van Allsburg.  The heavily awarded Van Allsburg may win again with his latest entry, but I found it slightly creepy.  Kids don't see it that way, for the most part, and tend to take the ending as a glass half-full, but my adult sensibilities were shaken by the undertones.  Nice use of color and perspective help draw in the reader, however, and younger students *may* get the cautionary tale about the keeping of pets. T

he Right Word by Jen Bryant, illustrated by Melissa Sweet.  Much like River of Words:  The Story of William Carlos Williams, this is a biography in picture-book form, created by collage.  While I enjoyed River of Words, it has not moved much, and I don't anticipate this one moving much either.  Too simplistic for the older readers who would appreciate it, the pages are far too busy for the younger readers who would get something from the text.   

Telephone by Mac Barnett, Illustrated by Jon Klassen.  Any other year, this one might be the winner.  It takes the simple, classic game of "Telephone" and reinvisions it in a smart, interesting way.  Lots of details and the strong use of shape and line make this one a book you can read over and over.  In a crowded field of powerful picture books this year, however, Telephone may just end up being one we "like a lot."   

"Caminar" by Skila Brown

The subtle cover of this book does not well represent the power and darkness of the material within.  Told in incredibly rich, strong language, this is the tale of Carlos, a young boy in Guatamala in 1981.  This is a land ravaged by soldiers and rebels, where the people of small villages fall victim to violence they want nothing to do with.  Like most verse novels, it reads quickly ... but you need to slow down and really appreciate the effort that went into writing this.  The imagery here is amazing with poems that border on the "concrete" -- telling part of the story visually, by how the words are arranged on the page.  Symbolism and metaphor abound, with owl eyes, and "pinching" mentioned over and over.  It is not an easy read.  Reminding me slightly of Nick Lake's "In Darkness" this, too, is a fictional tale, but so full of truth as to be somewhat painful.  Also like Lake's novel, this is something that happened in a poor country which the U.S. either ignored, or made worse, so it is easy to get angry while reading it.  It is a tale of determination, survival and hope, but it is also a story of how we, as humans, can't stop the need to make war on one another, and how dehumanizing we can be in those endeavors.  A "winner" in my mind, coming up into awards season.  Don't read it for the quality literature that it is.  Read it as an important message that we should all fully understand.

"David and Goliath: Underdogs, Misfits and the Art of Battling Giants" by Malcolm Gladwell

Funny thing.  This has been the fall of "not Tipping Point".  First, I read Contagious, which was a book that went to long lengths to describe how it *wasn't* Tipping Point (it so wasn't, but not in the way the author meant) and now I read another Gladwell, and can't help feel that it, too, is a pale comparison.  It's not that this book is bad -- Gladwell is a terrific writer, and even when you totally disagree with him, you feel "pulled" to his point of view.  His writing style is fun, accessible, smooth and convincing.  But, in this case, just not quite as compelling as -- well, Tipping Point. 

 

SPOILER ALERT

 

There are nine chapters arranged into three sections, each trying to tell the story of how a little guy beat a big guy, often by bucking conventional wisdom.  Like a true journalist, Malcolm Gladwell doesn't just tell each tale, he introduces you to a person for each non-traditional effort, and shows who they are in the midst of the choices and decision-making.  Interestingly enough, some of the people in these vignettes are not successful -- their failures set up the "point" of a given theme.  Therein lies the problem, however.  By discussing failure as often as success, Gladwell strangely seems to undermine the points he is trying to make.  In one chapter, he discusses how two young people failed because these straight-A kids couldn't hack competitive Universities where (gasp) they had hard classes that made them work for "Bs".  Okay, my heart wasn't exactly bleeding here, but then in the next chapter, Gladwell highlights how tough times (Dyslexia, the loss of a parent at a young age) can actually create people who are more resilient.  So -- what's the point?  That the two college kids should have stuck to easier schools to maintain the illusion that they are the smartest people in their sphere?  Or that we acheive greatness when we have to fight to get there?  Gladwell does the same thing when talking about the Civil Rights movement in Birmingham and the Mother's March in Belfast.  He highlights the power of a moment, or a significant image or action, but then undercuts them as manipulated.  While he used many scenarios of interest to me (and some not -- such as sports), he was so wishy-washy that in the end I had no idea what he wants the reader to take away here. 

 

I did giggle a bit at his stabbing of sacred cows -- namely, affirmative action and class-size arguments.  He even uses Brer Rabbit stories -- oh my ...  So, be prepared for a little "discomfort" when reading this.  Nonetheless, he is Gladwell, and David did slay Goliath, so maybe a careful reader can parse out some wisdom for the road.  Not one of his best, but still better than many who copy him.