"The Revolution of Evelyn Serrano" by Sonia Marzano

This award-winner was, in my opinion, not bad, but not great.  It is a disagreement with SLJ and other sources, which have given the book stars and high recommendations.  Personally, I found the writing flat, and the sequencing more like slices of life than a narrative.  In a typical novel, events build to a specific conclusion.  This book has a disjointed quality, as if you were looking at a photo album and each chapter was a grouping of sequential stories about those pictures.  In the first half, Evelyn, nee "Rosa", is working to Americanize herself, choosing to work at a store some distance from her family's Puerto Rican Bodega, during a hot New York summer in 1969.  The signs of discontent and change are all around her, but Evelyn's biggest issues are with her mother, who she sees as a doormat.  Younger readers will identify with the culture clash, friendship dramas and need to define oneself.  In the second half, the "revolution" begins, with Evelyn's church being taken over by a group of activists determined to bring social justice to the barrio.  Once she can't ignore what is going on around her, she becomes involved with the efforts, but it is at this point the book becomes even more disconnected, reading like some sort of "If You Were There" history textbook.  There are history lessons, speeches, a poet.  For me, it came off as didactic and preachy.  The timeline gets shot, and it is nearing New Years, then back before Christmas, then back at New Years.  Evelyn magically knows that the protest will last 11 days, then she talks about it going for "weeks" then they are on "day four".  An event happens to Evelyn near the end which has no context, and no reasoning, as if it is just dropped in.  In a similar vein, Ms. Marzano, a well-known Sesame Street actor, makes an unabashed plug for her show in the story, which I found jarring.

As blog readers know, I really dislike books with a "POINT" and this one is about nothing other than "THE POINT."  In any case, it's a nice introduction of Puerto Rican culture for those who know nothing more than "West Side Story", but if you want some slightly different takes, I think Meg Medina did it better in "Yaqui Delgado Wants to Kick Your Ass" and Kekla Magoon had more lyricism in "The Rock and the River".  They aren't the same, of course.  This is about Puerto Ricans, and Ms. Medina's story is about Cubans.  Kekla Magoon writes about revolution, but her stories are about blacks, and often focuses on Chicago, not New York.  Nonetheless, there are similar themes in the books, and of the three, this wasn't my favorite.  Overall, I give it a "meh."

PS -- I am always dissing poor covers, so I should say something about how excellent this cover is.  Not only does it capture every aspect of the book, physically and symbolically, but the red highlights in "Revolution" (evolution) perfectly emphasize the overall theme.

"Raymie Nightingale" by Kate DiCamillo

Kate DiCamillo hits it out of the park again, in my humble opinion, with this very odd little book, which is about everything and nothing all at once.  Raymie Clarke's father has just taken off, leaving her mother depressed and Raymie with a plan.  She will win a local beauty contest, get her picture in the paper, and her father will see the picture and call her.  First, however, she needs to learn how to twirl a baton.  The funny thing is, at the baton class, which goes bizarrely astray, she meets two other girls and they end up having a journey or two -- physically and psychologically.  As part of her application for the contest, Raymie needs to do a good deed, and that is where the story really lies.  "Why were good deeds such murky things?" she cries at one point.  Leave it to Kate DiCamillo to write a book which is innocent, simple and accessible but also layered, complex, symbolic and spiritual.  I sped through the short chapters, listening to Raymie's plaintive voice throughout, reaching for something she cannot name and feeling her soul rise and fall with each triumph and loss.  At ten, the character is at a magical age where she is still a child, but a growing awareness of the world is beginning to intrude.  It all actually ties together, but it isn't what you might expect.  A gentle, refreshing, quiet book which will make you think.  Brava.

"It Ain't So Awful, Falafel" by Firoozeh Dumas

Sigh.  Here we go.  Again.  Another "fictionalized memoir".  As readers know, I don't like these.  An author who writes a fictionalized version of themselves in a teen book does everything a good writer should not.  The events are idealized, the plot pat, the characters two-dimensional.  And so it is with this book.  Zomorod, a sixth grade Iranian transplant to Newport Beach in 1978, wants to be American so badly that she tells everyone her name is Cindy -- like Cindy Brady.  She is embarrassed by her parents, her culture, the family's poverty, and this is the overriding theme for 300 of the 377 pages.  She whines.  And whines.  She doesn't get the puka shell necklace she wants, and she whines.  Not much happens, with each chapter being a little vignette of Cindy/Zomorod's life as time passes.  The Iranian revolution, under Khomeni, is just irritating at first, as it draws attention to Cindy/Zomorod's differences.  Eventually, we get a teensy bit of character growth.  People start being mean to the family because they are Iranian, and Cindy/Zomorod tunes into the fact that she is lucky to have her family, and grateful that things (of course) work out okay.  Young girls will love the book.  It's a fun, shallow read and reflects all the desires of your average middle school student to fit in and make friends, but "real" didn't even cross my mind while reading it.  If you want a "real" book about a young girl dealing with the struggles of Iran in the late 1970s, read Marjane Satrapi's "Persepolis."

PS -- Odd note here.  Ms. Dumas spells out her parent's speech phonetically throughout the book, highlighting their accents.  If anyone else did this, they would get called on for stereotyping or worse.  Why is it that people from a given culture are allowed to diss that culture?  Sorry, this one doesn't go into my file of "diverse books".

"My Life With the Liars" by Caela Carter

In your average YA novel, the parents are either absent or evil, and the teen protagonist has to learn to rise above and find a way out.  This book turns that narrative on its head, with Zylynn, an "almost 13 year old" starting out with a great family -- one she rejects at every turn, since they took her away from her home, a limited existence in an Arizona cult.  Told in first person narrative, Zylynn's voice is strong and compelling.  Her natural confusion at a world turned upside down is aching for the reader, and gave the book a page-turning quotient.  I read the whole thing in one day, hoping that Zylynn would learn to accept the love and healing directed at her.  Think the story is improbable?  Think again.  Look at recent news stories of failed attempts by the US Government to remove children in a very similar compound.  The lines between religious freedom and child protection are fragile, and sadly, they allow many children like the fictional Zylynn to be abused.  This isn't a dark tale, however, it is one of promise, and of family.  Enjoy.

"A Chance in the World: An Orphan Boy, A Mysterious Past, and How He Found a Place Called Home" by Steve Pemberton

Another one of those memoirs about a horrific childhood, this one is both well-written and engaging.  A video of Mr. Pemberton speaking (http://frontrow.bc.edu/program/pemberton/) illustrates an interesting point ... the abuse he suffered as a child in the foster care system isn't actually his main story.  For him, as a biracial child with no knowledge of his past, the more compelling part of his personal narrative was to find out where he belonged.  The answers, which take up the second half of the book, are more complex than he ever imagined.  In an era where we talk a lot about "resilience" this is a story of a young man who had his focus on the right things.  He was determined and a survivor.  The tale unfolds with a certain amount of humbleness.  Mr. Pemberton realizes, along his path, that he was "graced" in some ways that those around him were not.  In the end, one might say he finds home within himself. 


While satisfying and a good read, I have some minor bones to pick.  The publisher is the Christian publishing arm of HarperCollins, and, while it is not an evangelical novel, in the final chapters there is a significant emphasis on God, and that may make some readers somewhat uncomfortable.  Also, even though it is a major publisher, the quality of the book is poor -- the pages thin, the typeface old-school.  Editing, also, could be improved, as there are occasional jumps from chapter to chapter, a break in flow that seems clunky. 


All that being said, this was another one of those books which was a difficult read on a personal level, as I recognized much of what he said, having experiences similar, at times, to his.  Unhappy homes are far more frequent than many think.  A book like this does what I always wanted to do as an adult -- it lets people who live through this know they are not alone. 

"The Red Pencil" by Andrea Davis Pinkney, Illustrated by Shane W. Evans

This powerful verse novel is evocative of both "Caminar" and "Sold", with a young child in a different culture growing up in a simple, gentle world, then that is ripped away by various circumstances.  In this case, author Pinkney chronicles the genocide of Darfur in southern Sudan in 2003 and 2004.  The poems are delicious and flow beautifully from one to another.  Ms. Pinkney's ability to capture everyday life is obvious from the get-go in a couplet from one of the first pieces: "Words flap from her/like giddy chickens escaping their pen."  Later in the book, the images and words mingle to create a strong feeling of grief as Amira's world collapses.  The images, too, are smart, in that they are not overdrawn.  The idea is that these pictures are ones created by Amira, not a professional artist, and they help to convey her tale without overwhelming the story.  Like in "Caminar" the words begin to fall apart, drifting away from each other, as war enters the village of the young girl.  Amira is hugely dimensional, and it is in this that she jumps off the page as a real person, even though she is a fiction.  It was a lovely book, and one that would have had me reaching for tissues if I hadn't been reading it in public (the "Sudan Flowers" are, in actuality, plastic garbage bags -- which is heart-wrenching in the telling of it), but there was one thing that bugged, a bit.  The ending was abrupt, and circumspect.  It came in a matter of pages and I can't tell you exactly what it meant, or what happened.  Aside from this, the book is a treasure which should touch students who read it, and Ms. Pinkney is successful, I think, in her stated goal of helping kids understand this tragedy without overwhelming them.  The afterword and notes are very helpful to those who wish to learn more about the story, and this culture.  A "human", touching tale, overall.

"Leviathan" by Scott Westerfeld

Because this is Westerfeld, it is awesome, because he is awesome.  This also may be one of the best of his works I have read (Uglies, Peeps).  But.  It can be hard to get into, and it takes a certain commitment.  Here's the thing -- Scott Westerfeld has created this incredible Steampunk/alternative history version of World War I.  At first, I was like, "WHAT is going on?" but then, as I pushed into it, I started getting it.  Reading the afterward before the book -- not a bad idea, as it gives you some context, and my WWI knowledge was a tad rusty.  But that ain't all.  Westerfeld includes Evolutionary Science, Feminism, a drop of sea-faring adventure, along with warcraft technology, in this complex, layered novel.  As an American, his "dialect English" for one of the main characters was so accurate I had to double-check to see if he really, really wasn't born in the UK.  Westerfeld's writing ability is always strong -- his work is rich, lyric and very visual, but here, his world-building is exquisite.  Nearly everything in this wild tale, told in alternating chapters by two protagonists, is alien.  It got better when I just kind of let go and accepted all the ideas coming at me which I wasn't wholly familiar with (and thank goodness for the detailed and lovely pencil drawings throughout).  Eventually, it all made sense, although it did have me scrambling for Wikipedia to look stuff up by the end.  The first of a trilogy, you WILL want to read the next two.  As far as I am concerned, this guy can't write a bad book.

"Ten Things I Hate About Me" by Randa Abdel-Fattah

You might want to hate this book.  It features the typical whiny teen girl who puts popularity and self-preservation over being real and being honest.  The plot turns are (mostly) predictable and you can't wait for her to figure out what you, the readers, realize early on.  But ... this novel is more complex than it seems, and Jamilah is written so realistically that she feels like you could reach through the pages and talk with her.  Her struggle -- between "faking it" as a run of the mill Australian tenth grader and owning up to her Lebanese Muslim culture, in a country struggling with diversity and stereotypes, resounds as if it were America today.  Jamilah sees her father as a tyrant, but she loves him, and (bless Mrs. Abdel-Fattah) her dad is drawn with dimensions which take the entire book to discover.  The whole family unit is strong, and brings surprises -- her rebellious brother isn't a complete turd, and her activist sister makes a choice you don't see coming.  The book challenges preconceptions about the Muslim faith and makes clear that living as a first generation immigrant in any nation can create a sense of dualism.  There is a boy (of course) and while some of that goes the way I thought it would, some does not.  The ending is both predictable yet refreshing, as Jamilah has to decide whether to own her true self or the bleached blonde persona she has fabricated.  It was a story I thoroughly enjoyed, and one I chose to pick up and read whenever I had a free minute.  Now, if we could only get certain national leaders to understand the concepts layered in this delightful YA novel.  Brava, Randa. 

"Because of Mr. Terupt" by Rob Buyea

This fast-read school tale rings about 90% true and has the kind of rich characters students will like, and identify with.  Mr. Buyea does a great job of getting inside the head of 5th graders and makes almost all of these children feel like they can leap off the page.  Told in very short chapters -- reflections from the different students -- this is the tale of a group of kids who get a new teacher, a teacher who has embraced the idea of Personalized Learning!  The connections and dynamics play well in "Part One".  My challenges came with two aspects of the book:  The bully and the crisis.  As to the bully, that was the only voice I didn't buy for a good long time.  The bully delighted in tormenting others.  Here's my guess -- bullies don't see themselves as bullies.  I suspect that their inner motivation is complex, and has something to do with a need to control.  In any case, that didn't work for me, although it did get better by the end, sort-of.  The other issue which nagged was the climax.  It was an event predicted by the foreword, written by John Irving (John Irving!  John Irving!  What is he doing writing a foreword to a YA novel???)  In any case, don't read the foreword, as it is a spoiler, to some degree.  In any case, the big event felt too structured, too deliberate.  Bad things do happen, but it is the randomness with which they happen that often makes them hard to take.  In this case, it felt like the author really had to have things fall out in a very specific way to lead his characters to an ending that he wanted.  I don't particularly like overly crafted resolutions.  For me, books are more enjoyable when they just unfold, and one has a sense the author simply let the story go where it was going to go.  In any case, despite the two things that jumped out at me, it was a great little book, and one that I did enjoy.  For those who really like it, there is a sequel, with a preview in the eBook version I read.  Go for it.

"Tapping the Power of Personalized Learning: A Roadmap for School Leaders" by James Rickabaugh



A fairly typical educational theory book, it's not bad, but it isn't fabulous.  It follows the very typical pattern -- identifying the current educational landscape as problematic, short testimonials about how change is good, a theory, a diagram, a distilling of the parts of the new proposal (which isn't actually that new).  There are lots of little nuggets worth taking away and I agree with the idea of personalized learning, but the book is best read in short bursts.  It is nicely succinct at less than 140 pages, and not particularly dry, but it is not hugely engaging, and takes the concept of "informational" to heart.  I found myself reading and re-reading sections because my mind wandered when I read it.  Having attended a school in the 1970s which was exactly this (students proposing independent research projects and activities to teachers to explore the given curriculum) I feel like I am watching the pendulum swing back again.  Is this a good book to get an overview of the latest undulation in education?  Sure.  It's clear, to the point, and has lots of quotes which can be used in Powerpoint presentations.  Is it the kind of book I'm constantly referring to over the next few months?  Not so much, but it is rare to find that kind of book in this kind of subject matter (see my review of Meeting Wise). 

 

 

 

"Out of My Mind" by Sharon Draper

Once again, I find myself strongly disliking a popular title with good reviews.  Ah well.  Variety (of opinion) is the spice of life.  From the get-go, this book about Melody, an 11 year-old with Cerebral Palsy who is brilliant but nonverbal, reminded me of another book -- "Stuck in Neutral" by Terry Trueman.  In that book, Mr. Trueman created a fictionalized version of his son's inner life -- his son also being a young man with special needs who is nonverbal.  As readers of my blog know, I take real issue when authors attempt to fictionalize their lives, as it often comes off as unrealistic, painting a rosy picture, and glossing over the bumps that go with actual living.  In the case of Mr. Trueman, I couldn't help but wonder if the whole thing wasn't an exercise in wish fulfillment.  In the case of "Out of My Mind", Ms. Draper's writing is far better -- because, well, she's Sharon Draper, and her writing is typically excellent.  My issue with the book is that I didn't feel this was Melody's voice -- it was Ms. Draper's.  Melody beats the odds (significantly, if you look it up) by being someone with Cerebral Palsy who is both nonverbal and brilliant (early on, it is indicated she also has an eidetic memory -- something generally seen in only 2-10% of the the population of kids under 12).  The book doesn't come off as preachy, but it isn't subtle in its messaging, and the observations of Melody sound completely like an adult's version of events, not an 11 year-old, no matter how bright she is.  The story is overly perky in many spots.  I counted 14 exclamation points over one two-page spread.  The sugary build-up to the climax was also "too much" for me.  There are Afterschool Special moments when everything looks like it is about to come to a super-shiny happy conclusion, and then that whips around 180 in a way that makes the ending seem jarring and rushed.  So, in other words, hated it.  Sorry.  A group of kids told me how wwwoooonnnnderfuuuulll it was, so I will defer to them.  As to me, I'll stick with Ms. Draper's other (superior) books (IMHO), such as Copper Sun and Tears of a Tiger.  I just wish, at some point, an author would write the story of the other kids in Melody's Special Ed classroom.  The ones who do have deficits, and yet still live in the world, looking for their place.

"Mosquitoland" by David Arnold

I had the privilege of seeing David Arnold speak with a group of 8th graders recently, and was intrigued by his humor, insight, and obvious smarts.  It was just luck that I happened upon his first book shortly thereafter.  "Mosquitoland" is vaguely reminiscent of Libba Bray's "Going Bovine" and Sharon Creech's "The Wanderer".  It is a travel tale, where the journey is both internal and external.  Written for mature audiences, the free-form flow of prose streams forth from Mim, our protagonist, a 16 year-old girl who is very much a 16 year-old girl.  I really (really, really) love that Mr. Arnold writes her without apology.  She is smart and strong and judgmental and typically all over the place with her emotions.  She doesn't really know who she is, given that her world-view is often limited to the space inside her head.  The journey here opens her eyes to the greater community, and her place in it.  The text is dense, and my "lunch reading" did not suffice.  I found I needed to sit at home, quietly, to absorb it all.  Context is sometimes missing -- intentionally, as the reader is undoubtedly supposed to be in the moment and enjoy the ride, rather than figure it all out at the beginning.  I like Mim, including her faults, and felt as endeared to the characters she comes across as she does.  None of the characters are black and white, a fact that she learns to appreciate throughout the book.  I read the digital version, so not sure if the print includes all the extras, but a series of extras, including an interview with the author, associated music and discussion questions, are worth the read, as is the teaser for his next book, "Kids of Appetite".  Definitely a strong addition to our growing canon of YA authors who don't dumb it down one little bit.  This author is one to watch.

"A Snicker of Magic" by Natalie Lloyd

Awww.  So sweet (and that is not actually a pun, despite the constant reference to ice cream in the book).  Frequently compared to "A Tangle of Knots" this story is actually quite different, but I understand the connections.  There is the syllabic similarity in the titles, a close color scheme in the cover art, and both are solidly "nice" with a nod to magical realism.  That is pretty much where it ends.  "A Snicker of Magic" is an Appalachian tale, pure and simple.  It's got weather, music, colorful legends, unique personalities and a kind of poetic lilt you only hear in a mountain story.  Days are hot, nights are cold, and the setting is a palpable character in and of itself.  Felicity Pickle, our heroine, sees words (think Synesthesia, but more mystical).  She collects them to use as an anchor to keep her heart in one piece as her mother drives the small family around from place to place, never settling down very long  For reasons Felicity doesn't understand, Momma comes "home again" to Midnight Gulch, Tennessee, crashing on the couch with kin until the late summer storms awaken her wandering heart.  In the meantime, Felicity begins to gather clues about herself and her family, coming across a cute boy (Jonah) a mysterious elder (Oliver), a poet (Florentine) and a lot of stories, woven like a quilt around the people of Midnight Gulch.  One thing I really liked was the blend of joy and sadness, making it clear that life isn't so much one thing as it is all things (Spoiler alert -- yes, the dog lives -- nothing bad happens to it).  This was an engaging and fast read, one I would recommend, and one which is likely to have wide appeal.  Most of it is delightful.  I was a tad disappointed that the school only appears in the beginning and end, seemingly inconsequential and nothing more than a device to forward plot points, but other than that, the book "sings."  Complex and simple, a free-flowing, experiential story, I was quite satisfied with it (although hungry ... ice cream is consumed in massive quantities).  Much of it is metaphorical and allusion, but astute readers shouldn't have any trouble seeing its heart.  I'd say two thumbs up, but one hand is reaching for a tub of Chubby Hubby ...

"Meeting Wise: Making the Most of Collaborative Time for Educators" by Kathryn Parker Boudett and Elizabeth A. City

"One of those books" -- a dry, business tome for administrators, this is not.  Boudett and City (who also wrote "Data Wise") got a shout-out from me in the very beginning, for the breezy, fun notes in the Intro about how the book could be read in "determined stints on an exercise bike".  That was quickly followed by an allusion to "Wrinkle in Time" in the first chapter.  Finally, in the end, there is a reference to sitting in a meeting "ordering socks" on your cellphone.  I laughed out loud.  I've never encountered a book of this type that was so real, so accurate, and so "human." Not only a fast read, but very digestable, with takeaways I already plan to use in my meeting planning.  It was short, clear, to the point, had the focus on the right spot -- it was simply terrific.  And I have honestly never said that about a work tome.  I wanted to lend it to half the people in my working group, but I've placed sticky notes on so many sections I don't want to part with it.  Bottom line -- meetings shouldn't be about one-directional input.  It's a revolutionary idea that every one of us who sit in those kinds of meetings knows.  It took these two women to show how a productive meeting can be so much more.

"Orbiting Jupiter" by Gary D. Schmidt

This is the third Gary Schmidt book I have read, and the third one I have really, really liked.  All three were different but have a literary quality which draws you in.  Mr. Schmidt is a true wordsmith -- writing the stories he needs to write, making them all accessible yet lyric, simple yet complex.  There is something truly intangible in how he is able to make every story seem real and personal, not to mention creating characters you want to reach out and hug through the pages.  In this story, sixth grade farm-boy Jack gets an eighth grade foster brother named Joseph.  (The name, by the way, is not accidental.  I suspect a biblical connection, although the reference is subtle, at best.)  Joseph has had a hard time of it.  Gary Schmidt often touches on abuse in his books, but does so with a light pen.  The point is made for the older readers in a way which younger readers may miss, but that's okay.  It's part of the whole style.  Take this passage -- elegant in its clarity:  "During the day, the air glistened with hovering ice.  At night, the stars were razor sharp.  At dawn, the sunlight went straight up in a hazy column.  And sunset closed the day with a quick wink."  It is this kind of depth which makes his books so brilliant and universally appreciated.  This novel, a selection in "March Book Madness" last year, was hugely popular with the many Middle School students who read it.  This is good to know, as I would have suspected the emphasis on rural New England life might not appeal to the urban set we have here.  Obviously, "the story" shines through, even if the experience is different from what students here are familiar with.

SPOILER ALERT

While Mr. Schmidt's stories often have a dark thread, this one ends on a truly devastating note.  I always struggle with endings like this.  On one hand, you kind of see it coming, on the other, you hope against hope that it "goes another way."  Jacqueline Woodson once said that she writes the endings she has to write, because the characters and the narrative give her no other choice.  So it is, I believe, with Gary Schmidt and this tale.  While hugely sad, it did come off as genuine, and, given the space allusions in the story, a kind of way that the universe works sometimes. 

Once again, Bravo.  Another powerful novel by a skilled writer.

"I Will Always Write Back: How One Letter Changed Two Lives" by Martin Ganda and Caitlin Alifirenka with Liz Welch

Have you ever finished a book and just held it to your heart?  Well, this was "one of those" for me.  Besides being a terrific story, this did exactly what I have been railing about for months -- kept a real story real.  Caitlin is a young girl not particularly thrilled with school when her teacher asks for volunteers to write to pen-pals in different parts of the world.  Caitlin picks Zimbabwe because the name sounds interesting.  The recipient of her letter?  A boy named Martin Ganda, who is at the top of his class in his very impoverished corner of the world.  What follows is a two person narrative about their lives over the years, showing not only how their friendship grew, but what their worlds were comprised of.  Understanding each other gave Martin, and his whole family, a way "out" of a difficult existence.  For Caitlin, her world-view exploded upon realizing that her existence was privileged in comparison to children of some other nations.  The story is NOT fictionalized.  It's the recollections of Caitlin and Martin as unvarnished as possible.  The narrative includes all the warts and realities which accompany an actual biography or memoir.  Caitlin doesn't shy away from discussing a somewhat shallow focus on the social aspects of her teen years and a boyfriend who didn't measure up.  Martin is honest about the abject poverty in his war-torn nation and cultural aspects of his life (like the relationship between his parents) which might make some readers shake their heads.  In a fiction book, some of this would have been glossed over.  Here, without getting into gritty details, the facts are laid out in a way which most kids will "get".  Things do turn out okay, but this is a story with shadings, not black and white.  Young people will understand the story, older people will feel the nuances.  It is powerful, joyous and sad, all at once.  Four hankies by the end.  Bravo, Brava, to Martin and Caitlin, with a significant tip of the rabbit ears to Ms. Welch, for telling it "like it is."

"Fish in a Tree" by Lynda Mullaly Hunt

Flashback, 1970s.  Ally can't read, doesn't have friends, and hates school.  She falls in with other oddballs, Keisha, the only black girl in the class, and Albert, who is obsessed with Star Trek, the original series.  The problem with this problem novel?  It's not set in the 1970s.  The true problem?  This is yet another one of those books where the author is exercising some personal demons by writing a "fictional" novel which is clearly autobiographical (which Ms. Hunt openly admits to in the end-notes).  This is a personal beef, but I really dislike it when real life is disguised as fiction.  In my mind, it creates stories which are flat, or idealized, or simply unrealistic.  "Fish in a Tree" hit the trifecta.  First, it goes through chapter after chapter of Ally, the main character, feeling awful.  At first, you want to have sympathy, but after a while, I really wanted the story to move forward (at 266 pages, it is far longer, IMHO, than it needs to be).  The mean girls are mean, the oddball kids are odd, but there is little fleshing out -- the author may have seen these characters in her mind because she experienced them, but it didn't translate onto the page.  Shay, the ultimate mean girl, has all the dimension of a mustachioed villain from a 1920s silent film.  Or any character from a CW TV show.  The one Asian character, Suki, is as stereotypical as it comes, right down to "honoring Grandfather" and her pigeon English.  The ending is all flower and roses, like any after-school special from 1973 -- everything works out just great and goodness wins.  The biggest distraction for me, however, was the setting.  There are brief references to technology -- information is occasionally Googled and, in the end, Dad is Skyped, but by and large, this didn't feel like a contemporary story.  No one has a cellphone and cyberbullying doesn't make any kind of showing.  There is Albert's obsession -- it's hard to believe a kid with few resources would know of Star Trek, the original series, much less be watching it on television (as a confirmed Trekkie, I can promise you it only came back to cable very, very recently, thanks to the new films, and would be hard to find in a small-town setting) and the whole school structure seems dated.  A kid shows up with bruises every day and Social Services isn't called immediately?  Lastly, every mention of Albert's black t-shirt with white lettering saying "Flint" confused me.  He explains it as a Star Trek reference, and it is eventually used as as a Science gag, but how could you have a character in 2016 wear a shirt like that and not be referencing Flint, Michigan, and the racial struggles epitomized there?

Here is what I wish -- that Ms. Hunt, Mr. Gantos, and all the other authors who have written these pseudo fiction tales would just own up and write a real memoir -- for kids.  Who says that young people can only digest a story if it is fictionalized?  Who says young people can't understand the power of a personal narrative when it comes to life struggles?  The issues Dyslexic kids face is very real, and haven't we learned that being open and honest with people is the best way to tell a story?  This is another one of those books written for adults, who, with our bleeding hearts, will hand it out to every kid we think "needs" it.  Sadly, most of those kids who might benefit from the story won't be able to read this lengthy tome.  Maybe next time, authors like this can write something real.

"The Terrible Two" by Jory John and Mac Barnett, illustrated by Kevin Cornell

What an absolute blast to read this fun, smart, unexpected book!  A real refresher after some long/serious stuff.  It is easy to see why kids are flocking to this title, by popular author Mac Barnett and up-and-comer Jory John (author of "All My Friends are Dead" books).  The tale of a prankster who is out-pranked by a mysterious visionary when he transfers schools, the kids here take on Peanuts-like personas with very adult reflections on the world around them.  It works.  The humor functions on all levels, from laugh-out-loud to more subtle snickering.  The drawings add to the Charlie Brown-esque feeling of our protagonist, Miles Murphy.  The cows were a constant giggle.  A definite winner.  Read, smile, enjoy.

"All American Boys" by Jason Reynolds and Brandan Kiely

McCormick's "Sold" may have been devastating to read, but this one was viscerally painful -- getting inside the head of a young black man beaten by a police officer.  While Jason Reynolds and Brendan Kiely may have known how topical their award-winning book would be as they were writing it, the impact of the story in yet another summer of police shootings of black men was stunning as a read.  Taking place in a ubiquitous "Springfield, USA" we have the tale of two high school students.  One is Rashad, a black ROTC kid with a stern father.  He goes into a store to buy some chips before heading to a party, collides with a white woman and is beaten by a police officer who believes he was trying to steal from the store and assaulted the woman.  The other is Quinn, a white basketball player whose military father died in service, heading to the same party, when he sees the cop pounding Rashad into the pavement.  Problem -- the cop is the older brother of Quinn's best friend, and has been a mentor to Quinn after his father's death.  Told in alternating chapters, with each section being a day in a single week, the changing perspectives bring the entire national conversation front and center, covering all perspectives.  In the case of Rashad, this works.  His tale is personal, real, and far more complex than I ever imagined.  For instance, it never occured to me that members of black families might have different takes on an incident like this, or that the victims of police brutality might feel, well, like victims -- ashamed and embarrassed.  In the case of Quinn, however, the book stumbles a bit.  Quinn's "voice" is not consistent.  At times, he reads like an uneducated hick, and other times, he comes off as erudite.  The author voice is clearly inserted from time to time to "make a point" which is a huge pet peeve for me.  On the other hand, Quinn's swings may be part of the teenage male mind.  Having no idea what may be in a teenage male mind (or a few adult male minds) I tried to give Mr. Kiely credit that this is a young man trying to make sense of something which is very hard to make sense of.  The one big regret I had with the story was that Rashad creates a piece of art to work through his pain.  While it is well described, words do not do justice to art, and I would have liked to see a finished version of what Mr. Reynolds had in mind.

This story is black and white (no pun intended).  Rashad is a good kid, he is unarmed, he is not guilty of what he is accused of.  Did he resist?  Unclear, but unimportant.  It is made obvious that the police officer continues to beat him long after he is capable of resisting.  Unfortunately, many of the incidents which have captured national attention are less clear-cut, making the ongoing conversation in our society critical.  This book has the ability to start that conversation, if we are brave enough to have it.  Another new thing I have become aware of in the past month?  The "conversation" that black parents must have with their black sons regarding what to do when stopped by police.  What an awful lesson to learn as a child.  In a clear, plaintive, and resonating voice, this novel successfully asks the question -- why can't everyone be "All American Boys" regardless of skin color?

"Winter" by Marissa Meyer

Ahh -- the delightful sense of "something" when you finish a series -- particularly when it takes FOREVER for the final book to come out.  I read a lot of "first book in the series" as part of my job, but this was a series which had me reading the whole thing.  That's a good sign.  As mentioned in previous reviews, Ms. Meyer did an outstanding job of world-building in this SciFi/Action/Romance twist on Fairy Tales.  The "Lunar Chronicles" series is inventive, fresh yet familiar, fun and engaging.  This final book, at 823 pages, seemed overwhelming, but, like J.K. Rowling, she writes in an accessible, friendly way, which can draw you in.  The short chapters and changing perspectives had me careening through the novel much faster than expected. 

I sometimes tell people they don't have to read certain series books in order.  That's not the case here, where the back-stories of our previous heroines (Cinder, Scarlet and Cress) weave very heavily into the stories of the new characters, centered around Winter.  Throw in interplanetary war, a ravaging disease and mutants and you have a story which spins from one couple trying desperately to connect to another.  For those afraid of "mush", no need to fear.  The romance is there, but it is more spare than I expected.  This is about battles, and more battles.  There is lots of blood (real and imagined, but for that, you have to read the book).  Even the ending, which is satisfying, didn't exactly wrap up the way I expected, given the fairy-tale underpinnings of the whole thing.  Nonetheless, it was a terrific conclusion to a series which became far more epic and complex than I ever expected when reading "Cinder", the tale of a cyborg Cinderella.  A great escape from a hot summer day, I curled up all day on a Sunday and plowed through half of it.  Enjoy.