Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast

{Note: Sorry there’s no blogger interview today. Yes, we tend to feature those on Mondays. We promise to continue our ongoing discussion with The Blue Rose Girls as soon as possible — most likely, another day later this week — and, after that, with a lot more bloggers with whom we want to chat. For now, enjoy a book review — uh, “recommendation” or whatever it is we’re supposed to call them in the wake of the discussion Roger started. I say that with no snarkiness, by the way} . . .

Eisha and I began a Middle-Grade Books round-up last week (it’s here if you missed the scrotrageous fun we had writing it), and so here I am to do a Part Two of some more middle-graders I’ve read. I intended to write about four — yes, count them, four — titles in this post, but I started with the first title on my list and found myself writing, ahem, a bit more than I’d expected. So, I’ll continue with the other stack of middle-grade novels in a little while. For now, make way for The One. The Only. Emma-Jean Lazarus:

I just had to pick up a copy of Emma-Jean; my curiosity was piqued with all the blog buzz about the book (see here, here, here, and here). This — Lauren Tarshis’ first novel — could be a case study in children’s lit classes for the examination of voice used successfully in a novel — particularly, chapter one, exactly where heavy use of voice should reside as we meet our characters. The protagonist, Emma-Jean, has quite the distinctive style and manner of expression. I guess there are arguments goin’ around for her being autistic, but I don’t buy that. Now onwards and upwards then . . .

Middle-schooler Emma-Jean Lazarus doesn’t like messy, disorderly things like emotions and, quite frankly, friendship — except for with her mother, the doctoral student who is a boarder in their home, the school janitor, and her pet parrot (all believably-drawn secondary characters, I might add in approbation). She’s wicked smart and terribly aloof, a classic misfit. She makes it “her habit to keep herself separate, to observe from afar . . . She maintained a general policy of staying out of the messy lives of her fellow seventh graders.” She’d rather stand on the perimeter of everyone else’s illogical, irrational lives, thanks very much — not unlike a super sharp tween-aged social anthropologist at work: Read the rest of this entry �

Hi there, one and all. We’ve been reading a whole slew of intermediate-aged novels and decided we’d review them in a round-up post. Some are newer than others (yes, you’ll see that we’re just now getting to titles like The Higher Power of Lucky and Rules, but better late than never, eh?). And, you know, we here at 7-Imp never really addressed Scrotumgate (or what Kristen McLean at pixie stix kids pix aptly called “the Great Scrotum Kerfuffle of 2007“). So, in honor of speaking out against those adults who feel “discomfort . . . {about} . . . references to body parts in children’s literature. . . {and the} fear of giggling” and in defense of scrotums as children’s literacy tools (in the words of Susan Patron herself), we’ll try to use at least one scroadjective in each review of this round-up — such as, the profoundly erudite “scrotastically testacular ” in the title of this post. (And we hope the authors of each book below will forgive us and will know that we have only the utmost respect for them).

And when we say “intermediate” or “middle-grade,” keep this in mind: more or less. All the below titles pretty much fit into the “ages 6 to 12” category, if we must use categories; Mary Hanson’s new book is for the younger set, while Rules and Lucky technically get labelled “9 to 12” a lot. But blah blah blah, what matters is that these are some brand-new titles or titles from the previous year (with which we’re getting caught up) that will appeal to your older elementary and middle-grade students and that we think are worth your time for one reason or another. Enjoy! (Oh, and look for a Part Two soon — we’ve got even more to say) . . .

What It’s About: A cookie-lovin’ rat (named Bob) manages to save himself from being devoured by two hungry cats, Brutus and Muffin, by serving them cookies and telling them fairy tales about his family. Read the rest of this entry �

{Big ‘Ol Friendly Warning: Spoilers included. As usual, our co-reviews are really more well-suited to folks who have already read the novel and want to think further on it and, we hope, join in the conversation via the comments function} . . .

Jules: We’re beginning this co-review of Laura Amy Schlitz’s A Drowned Maiden’s Hair on the same day the Cybil winners are being announced. And — after reading the blurb about Schlitz’s title, which won the Middle Grade Fiction category — I’m feeling a bit daunted about reviewing now. I mean, just look at this great write-up:

“It’s a mystery story, it’s a ghost story, it’s delightfully gothic and eerie. In A Drowned Maiden’s Hair we have a protagonist with a very authentic child voice, and her motivations and feelings are described in clean, nuanced lines. Maud is also a person of her time and place; she never comes off as anachronistic. The story, too, is something of a time and place — the darkness of the Hawthorne estate was like an L.M. Montgomery novel gone delightfully to seed. The adoption of the plucky orphan by the wealthy lady is a trope of the Victorian novel, and yet does not come off as trite or formulaic. It is as if Schlitz had taken familiar characters and plotlines from Victorian fiction and injected them with a realism and emotional force that transcends its familiarity, making it seem new again. Truth — be it in the cries of a widower, or in a tearful confession — is what lets Maud see her true role and path, and ultimately brings redemption.”

Very nice. Read the rest of this entry �

Knock. Knock . . . Who’s there?

Interrupting Cow.

Interru-

MOO!

Oh wait, that’s Eisha’s favorite childhood joke (as mentioned previously in our co-review of M.T. Anderson’s Octavian, of all places). We got carried away there, but we hope we at least made your milk-snortin’ inner child laugh.

Let’s try again: Knock. Knock. Who’s there?

First-time author Lisa Graff, knocking on our cyber-door. Perhaps she heard we like to have fantasy author wine/coffee soirees. Oh wait! She’s not a mirage. She’s real! She’s really come to say hi, to chat with us on her seven-day blog tour. Lucky us! We’ll even offer her some peach raspberry pie (see below) with the coffee (and then we’ll have wine).

Read the rest of this entry �

Donkeys might have a long history of being symbols of ignorance, but in Sonya Hartnett’s The Silver Donkey (Candlewick Press; First U.S. edition — September 2006; my source: library copy), the donkey is instead a symbol of many noble qualities: patience, dependability, allegiance, kindness, humility, courage, and much more. I should say right off the bat here: Hartnett is one of my top-five favorite authors. And, once again, she didn’t let me down with this middle-grade title, which is profound and intense and graceful all at once. Hartnett seems to be writing in the tradition of the classics of children’s literature here (think turn-of-the-last-century children’s titles) — persuasively and strikingly so. Read the rest of this entry �

Toys Go Out: Being the Adventures of a Knowledgeable Stingray, a Toughy Little Buffalo, and Someone Called Plastic
by Emily Jenkins and illustrated by Paul O. Zelinsky
September 2006
Schwartz & Wade Books
Eisha: library copy; Jules: personal copy

The lowdown on the book: Emily Jenkins’ Toys Go Out is a chapter book, if we must call it that, which is about three best friends, who just happen to be the beloved toys of a little girl who “lives on a high bed with fluffy pillows.” Lumphy is a stuffed buffalo, StingRay is a stuffed stingray, and Plastic isn’t quite sure what she is. But she endeavors to find out. The book consists of six related stories about their adventures inside and outside of the girl’s room (which involve the terrifying bigness of the washing machine, the vastness of the sea, dogs, and much more) and their musings on the meaning of life. The book is the recipient of a 2006 Parents’ Choice Silver Honor Book, and Jenkins’ previous titles have been Boston Globe-Horn Book Honor recipients on two occasions, a Charlotte Zolotow Honor Book, and an American Library Association Notable.

Jules: Okay, that was the formal description of the book. Here’s my gushing, informal one: This book is perfect and wonderful, and I think I’m in love with Emily Jenkins’ writer-mind. I know you thought it was nearly perfect or perfect as well, Eisha, right? I mean, I try to avoid using “charming” and “quirky” to describe books, but it’s both terrifically charming and hilariously quirky. So there.

Read the rest of this entry �

I have Kelly at Big A little a (actually, her mother) to thank for reviewing this book and making me want to read it. I just finished it and found it to be a delightfully original work (though you’d think it wouldn’t be, considering its premise — a story about a wooden boy). I just discovered, too, that Fuse reviewed it as well (and look at that snazzy, new cover she links to), but I’ll get to that in a minute.

Read the rest of this entry �

Fellow Kid-Lit colleagues, I need a little help.  I am the Childrens/YA Librarian in a smallish public branch library.  I have a 9-year-old female patron who keeps asking me for “romance” books.  But without S-E-X, of course – seriously, she explicitly stated this.  Like I was about to hand over an Elizabeth Lowell novel.  But I digress…

Today I gave her Juliet Dove, Queen of Love by Bruce Coville.  We were also contemplating Princess Academy by Shannon Hale (I haven’t read it, but it’s got the sort of thing she seems to mean when she says romance – princesses and princes), but based on reviews I think it may be a little long, and a little short on the actual princess-getting-together-with-prince.  

The fact is, I’m stronger in YA and picture books than I am at middle grade fiction.  So I thought I’d throw this out to the blogosphere… any ideas?  Fuse #8, Big A little a, Brookeshelf… you guys are awesome at middle grade stuff.  Anyone else?  Whoever comes up with the most titles gets… um… a free set of Edward Tulane postcards.  And my undying affection.

Oh, and I should mention… she’s reading at grade level (4th) – maybe slightly above.

I am trying to do better about reading children’s lit in certain age ranges; I usually go to town on my picture books and YA titles, the two ends of the continuum. But — for whatever reason — I don’t read as many beginning readers and chapter books, in particular. So, I’ve been doing some reading lately in each age category (I don’t think I missed any, though — technically — board books aren’t represented here) and figured I’d do a post featuring one title for each one (my YA category, though, features two stellar titles I just finished). So, let’s get to it — children’s literature across the board, from picture books to the two best YA titles I’ve read this year.

Here’s a little gem for you: Hippo! No, Rhino by Jeff Newman, nominated for a Cybil Award in the Fiction Picture Books category. This is a sly, clever, hip, little slip of a book; it’s mostly wordless; and it’s got the look of a picture book that might have been the shizizzle when I was a toddler (in the ’80s — okay, um, the ’70s). Enter the zoo with a baffled zookeeper who doesn’t quite know his animals (and looks not unlike Cheech or Chong) Read the rest of this entry �

*{Note: Visit Journey Woman for this week’s Poetry Friday round-up} . . .

Howdy, strangers.  I know, it’s been a while.  As Julie mentioned, I’ve been kinda busy with school lately, and haven’t been posting nearly as often as I’d like to.  But thanks to Mistress Cybil, I’ve definitely been reading a LOT of excellent poetry for children.  I thought I’d use my share of the Poetry Fridays to highlight some of the nominees that I’ve been especially tickled about.  For example:

Hey There, Stink Bug!  by Leslie Bulion, illustrated by Leslie Evans.  This book is a complete package – excellent linoleum block-and-watercolor illustrations (love them, LOVE THEM!!!); clever, fun, and largely read-out-loud-able poetry; and fascinating facts about insects sure to please the budding entomologist, or anyone who likes trivia of the gross-out variety.  For example, did you know that aphids reproduce asexually, and already have new live aphids developing inside them when they’re born?!?  And that skipper caterpillars can “force-fire” their own poop over three feet away?!?  Dude… that’s just nasty.

Read the rest of this entry �