Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast

Meet Lulu Atlantis. She’s feeling a bit overshadowed by Sam, her new baby brother; is convinced her mother would rather not have her around; and is trying her best to acclimate to life without her father, who is “away on his crusades” (when the story opens, he’s off to save “the Pacific Northwest Tree Octopus”). Her best friend, a daddy longlegs spider who wears a top hat and white gloves and calls her “miss” (and whom no one else can actually see), is her trusty companion and joins Lulu in her earnest quest for the meaning of True Blue Love. Together — and throughout the four related, chapter-divided stories of the book — they explore the world under the Umbrella Tree, the large mulberry tree, “studded with luscious purple berries,” at the bottom of her lawn on Sweet Pea Lane; brave grouchy ‘ol Farmer Wallenhaupt’s pond to find Lulu’s Frog Prince; rescue a yogurt-eating skunk who calls her “toots” and says things like “darn tootin'”; and meet — in the laugh-outloud funny, most outstanding story in the book — the three chefs of the Gangster Bakery (that would be Scarecrow, Lefty-Righty Louie, and Jimmy Creamcheese) in their search for the secret ingredient for Mother’s oatmeal. There’s also Princess Fancy, Lulu’s archnemesis, the haughty stray cat who shows up in the final story, descending through clouds and silver stars at night, in a hot air balloon.

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Not only is the Wicked Cool Overlooked Book series Colleen Mondor’s brainchild, but I also have her to thank for telling me about this book, released in September of last year by Candlewick. You’ll see at the end of this post excerpts of and links to other reviews, meaning you can argue its under-the-radar-ness with me, but it’s true that there haven’t been any reviews of it in Blogistan (as my husband calls it) — none that I can find anyway — so I’m stickin’ to my decision to feature it today.

Geared at the 9 to 12 age range, The Museum Book: A Guide to Strange and Wonderful Collections is a 51-page book in picture book format that I would argue would also work quite well with high schoolers interested in history, particularly your collectors and curator-wannabes. It was written by Carnegie Medal-winning Jan Mark, one of Britain’s most distinguished children’s book authors, who passed away about two years ago. If you’ll allow me a quick digression here, this obituary at Guardian Unlimited, for whom she reviewed books, is a good read. And I love this first sentence, reminding me of the whole idea behind Wicked Cool Overlooked Books and the second sentence just making me laugh: Read the rest of this entry �

It’s really time I took a blog break for the holidays, but here’s a post which I’m slidin’ in right before all the gift-giving begins. These are the types of books I don’t normally review here at 7-Imp: They’re all what are labelled “novelty,” I suppose, in one way or another. But I thought I’d go ahead and cover them here for anyone who might be looking for last-minute gift ideas. These are Books Plus Some, the “plus” being pop-up features, fold-out pages, 3-D surprises, parts to assemble, some dragons, some ocean liners, even a tutu. Without further ado . . .

This would simply be a stinkin’ cool gift for someone. How’s that for professional-sounding? This is Dr. Ernest Drake’s (bah-dum-ching) purported scientific study of/field guide to dragons, including an introduction to dragon-spotting, the migration and habitats of the creatures, equipment and fieldwork notes, notes on dragon evolution and extinct dragons, and then sixteen pages of classified dragon species — from the European Dragon (Draco occidentalist magnus) to the Tasmanian Dragon (Draco semifascia). Lastly, there are four pages of an admittedly non-exhaustive list of Pseudo-Dragons (“{t}he keen field dragonologist may, if he or she is lucky and observant, come across various creatures that appear to be related to dragons but that are, in point of fact, not dragons”). The book itself includes pages designed to look fading, antiquated, yellowing — with details such as water drops and cup stains on the pages. The pages in the classification section also include little fold-up flaps on the bottom of each page, providing information about the egg of each species. And, best of all, there are the pieces to twelve dragon models included in little pockets all inside the book. And they’re not difficult to assemble. Recommended for your budding fantasy-lover who especially loves to construct models. More information can be found here at the Ology World site, complete with the nameless British librarian.

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I get review copies from Milkweed Editions, a nonprofit literary press, though you woudn’t know it, since I’m so hopelessly behind on many of my reviews (that aren’t picture books). If you’re not familiar with this publisher, you should be. You can read about their history and mission here. Actually, I’ll give you their mission right here, straight from their web site. And why am I doing this? ‘Cause I feel like I have to, since they send me review copies? Nah. I can’t be bought that easily. Heh. It’s ’cause they have some really great books and one slammin’ mission:

“Milkweed Editions publishes with the intention of making a humane impact on society, in the belief that literature is a transformative art uniquely able to convey the essential experiences of the human heart and spirit. To that end, Milkweed publishes distinctive voices of literary merit in handsomely designed, visually dynamic books, exploring the ethical, cultural, and esthetic issues that free societies need continually to address.”

In this post from June, Eisha featured an anthology of poetry by Éireann Lorsung, published by Milkweed this year (I also have a review copy, and it’s amazing stuff. We were going to attempt a co-review, but it’s the kind of anthology we feel like we need to read and re-read and re-read again. It’s not the most accessible poetry, but that certainly doesn’t make it inferior. The poems are elegant, sometimes provocative, sometimes playful, always well-crafted. But they also bring me something new upon each read, not to mention that some elude me, honestly — but in a good, let-me-just-ponder-them-a-bit-more way. Thus, the absence of our co-review). Milkweed has many interesting non-fiction titles (for adults), in particular, some of which I hope to review soon. Anyway, even though they release only twelve to twenty new books each year, this includes children’s titles (“we are one of two nonprofit presses that publish children’s literature”). Here is a review of one, which I finished a while ago and am just getting around to, a novel aimed at intermediate-aged readers: The Linden Tree, written by Ellie Mathews and published by Milkweed this year.

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Eisha and I are pleased as punch to say that we’ll be interviewing Kimberly Willis Holt next week. I believe she’s on one of those so-called, new-fangled blog tours, meaning you’ll see her stop at a few other places, too, but we’re just happy she’ll be stopping here at all. We will take any reason to chat with her, as we’re both quite fond of her writing.

So, that interview will be next Wednesday, December 19th, and in anticipation and celebration of it, we (well, really Henry Holt and Kimberly Willis Holt) are giving away a copy of Piper Reed: Navy Brat, her newest title, which also happens to be a chapter book and which I also happened to review here, should you want more information on it. Best of all, Kimberly will be autographing this free copy of Piper Reed. Wahoo! If you’re interested in winning a copy, just leave a comment here. I suppose I can put all the names in a hat and convince my three-year-old daughter to draw a name from said hat when the day’s done. How does that sound?

Don’t forget today’s interview — just below this post — with the one and only Tasha Saecker of Kids Lit.

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Our apologies to Poetry Friday, which we love and adore, but we started this tri-review in mid-August. O yes, we did. It’s taken us this long. No more delays then. Here is 7-Imp’s absolutely riveting current tri-review. Go get your popcorn now, and come back, read, and enjoy.

Jules: Mo Willems, picture book creator extraordinaire, has graced the world of children’s lit with a new beginning reader series, the Elephant & Piggie books. And heaven bless him, because they are very funny and clever and . . . Wait. I’m getting ahead of myself here. Let’s just say they’re All Mo All the Time -– each and every book.

If you missed the first two -– My Friend is Sad and Today I Will Fly!, both released in April of this year by Hyperion -– then, run! Don’t walk! Run to the nearest bookstore or library, especially if you have those so-called emerging readers in your home, because the books -– met with rave reviews all-around -– are . . . well, as Booklist put it, they are “{a}ccessible, appealing, and full of authentic emotions about what makes friendships tick . . . {they} will put a contemporary shine on easy-reader collections and give Willems’ many fans–whatever their age or reading level–two more characters to love.” In July of this year, the following two books in the series, I Am Invited to a Party! and There Is a Bird on Your Head!, were released (also by Hyperion, whom we thank for review copies of these titles).

And how can we discuss Mo’s new beginning reader series without, arguably, the biggest Mo fan in the kidlitosphere, Pam Coughlan, a.k.a. MotherReader? So, we invited her to a tri-review of these titles and are thrilled she said yes.

MoReader, we are happy to have you here! I could go on and on about why I think these books work so well, but I’m sure we’ll all get into that. I’ll add quickly now before letting you really begin here that the very first time I read one of these, my three-year-old daughter was with me. We had picked up My Friend is Sad at the library and were really excited, as we’d been waiting for it. We sat down right there at the nearest table and took a gander, and we immediately were doing those nerdy hyperventilating laughs -– in a library, no less -– because it was almost painfully funny. So, we just packed up to take them home where we could laugh louder. I think that one’s my favorite, since the slapstick genius of all the Elephant & Piggie titles is at its best in that book, in my humble opinion.

What do you think? As a Hugely Huge Mo Fan, are you just crazy about them? Disappointed, by chance? Are they all you thought they’d be? Read the rest of this entry �

Well, not really a Chanukah Nutcracker, but Ellen Kushner — the host of Public Radio International’s Sound & Spirit — was inspired by the klezmer orchestra, Shirim, to write this book. Shirim had created a klezmer version of Tchaikovsky’s “Nutcracker Suite” for the Chanukah season, and — as the Charlesbridge site puts it — “Ellen decided she wanted to right [sic] a story based on The Nutcracker, but with a Jewish flavor. Instead of Clara going to a Christmas party and receiving a nutcracker that turns into a prince from her uncle, Sara goes to a Chanukah party and receives an enchanted dreydl from her aunt and it turns into a princess — a girl her own age who accompanies her on a magical journey through a mystic kingdom.” A stage adaptation was written and then brought to life, followed by a performance on Sound and Spirit (here’s more information on both). If you go to the book’s home on Charlesbridge’s site, you can listen to a lively clip. Read the rest of this entry �

Kimberly Willis Holt is a mighty talented author, in my humble and sometimes not-so-humble-and-rather-loud opinion, and she’s got a whole bunch of awards and honors backing me up on that claim. In her first chapter book, Piper Reed: Navy Brat (Henry Holt; August 2007; review copy), Holt takes her talented muse as well as her own childhood experience as a “navy brat” and brings us a spunky character in the form of Piper Reed (“spunky,” I know, seems overused for many chapter book protagonists, but, hey, the shoe fits).

In twelve short chapters, we read about the ups and downs of being not only a middle child, but also the daugher of a Navy Chief — not an officer, mind you, but the highest rank an enlisted man can be in the U.S. Navy — who is fond of saying, “when a man joins the Navy, his family joins the Navy.” Her father “fixed jets better than anyone,” and Piper prides herself on being the only daughter to repeatedly — and quite playfully and lovingly — salute him (“My sisters needed to learn some respect”). Every couple years and sometimes less, the family has had to move; in the opening chapter, the family is in San Diego, their first home not on a military base, yet before that they lived in Texas, Guam, Mississippi, and New Hampshire — at least in Piper’s lifetime. And there, immediately in that first chapter, we see that the girls’ father (Piper has an older sister, Tori, and a younger sister, Sam) is announcing during dinner a move to “Pepsi-Cola,” Florida — as Sam understands its pronunciation anyway — in two weeks, much to Tori’s disappointment. Even Piper, always up for an adventure, is a bit bummed: She will miss her beloved Gypsy Club treehouse meetings with her friends in the family’s current home — not to mention her neighbor, Mr. Nelson, and his German shepherd, Kip (“If we ever had a dog, I’d want him to be just like Kip”). Read the rest of this entry �

Boy howdy, did reading this one take me back to my childhood — not only the terribly frustrating (as well as the sometimes poignant) moments of having siblings, but also the Judy Blume books of my own childhood. Every bio you read of her will tell you that she’s a pioneer of books for children and young adults and that she possesses a spot-on ability to nail the embarrassments, tensions, worries, headaches, and even joys of growing up and, in particular, sibling relationships. And all those bios would be right — not to mention she completely delivers in those ways with this, her latest title: Soupy Saturdays with the Pain and the Great One (Delacorte Books for Young Readers; August 2007; advance reader’s copy), seven brand-spankin’-new stories about the brother-and-sister pair that appeared in her 1984 picture book, The Pain and the Great One. The latter included illustrations by Irene Trivas, but this new title includes illustrations from James Stevenson (“wispy” — The Publishers Weekly review calls his illustrations “wispy.” I love it, ’cause it’s oh-so true).

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