Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast

Eisha added a link to Nancy Pearl’s Book Lust here on our blog. I always have my own, little internal sturm und drang about looking at such sites — I really want to, being the book nerd I am, but perhaps I will see something I want to read and will want to add it to my already unwieldy reading list. It’s almost as if I look at them all squinty-eyed with my hands partly covering my face, not unlike you would look at a train wreck if you passed it. You are compelled to look, but you’re scared. But, well, I did. I went. I saw. I added. In fact, I was so intrigued by Pearl’s review of Elizabeth Strout’s Abide With Me (2006) that I didn’t just add it to my list. I went and got it from the library and started it and found it hard to put down.

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A bit of a qualification here: When I discuss a new picture book title, I mean new-to-libraries and not necessarily super hot off the presses. Hey, I’m choosing not to work outside my home until my daughters enter school, so we gotsa watch our budget. In fact, I just generally avoid the children’s sections of bookstores anymore so that I’m not baited by these gorgeous new picture book titles . . . So, the following titles are new, as in 2006, but not necessarily brand spankin’ new. In other words, check your library; they probably have them. And these are ones that are, for many reasons, particularly snazzy-great for your pre-schooler/toddler. The one pictured here, Brian Pinkney’s Hush, Little Baby, is my favorite thus far this year and is mentioned in my bed-time list. This one spills over with so much joy that the characters rarely have their feet on the ground. And it’s a fascinating study of what an illustrator can do with line in a picture book — in this instance, Pinkney’s lithe and lovely arcs. Happy reading!

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If you’ve spoken to me at all in the past few weeks, odds are you’ve already heard me mention The Book Thief by Markus Zusak at least once. And if you’ve picked up a newspaper, or a review journal, or glanced at anyone else’s book blog, you’ve probably read at least one review of it. Everybody, everywhere is talking about it. Which is the main reason I’ve been reluctant to talk about it here. But I must. This is that kind of book. It just will not leave me alone. This book does not lie down quietly in the subconscious – it stomps around the frontal lobe and bangs its fists on the inside of the skull. The copy I’ve had checked out for waaay too long has utterly refused to let me return it until I write some of this stuff down. So, okay already…

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“There are three hundred and sixty-four days when you might get un-birthday presents … and only one for birthday presents, you know.” — Lewis Carroll

My apologies that this is not book-related, but it’s a quick birthday greeting to Eisha, my blog partner-in-crime and true friend, who turns 22 today (tee hee). Eisha, this is a Miri Pi drawing for you; it’s a three-eyed dude (hey, she’s two) and a birthday balloon for you. I know it’s small, but when I try to make it bigger, it’s even more difficult to see. Anyway, happy birthday and may you celebrate with lots of wine and sweet words (to paraphrase Plautus — not that I’ve been reading Roman playwrights of late, but I saw that quote somewhere before). — Jules

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Polly Horvath’s ever-present muse is one quirky and offbeat and funny benefactor. I love her books. Most of them are geared for the child in the intermediate grades, but I don’t care how old you are, you will love Everything on a Waffle (2001). As a Horn Book reviewer put it, Horvath nails subtlety and slapstick, a difficult thing to do. And 2003’s The Canning Season, a Young Adult title, is compelling storytelling. Horvath has many wonderful books; she’s a talented writer.

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I’m a little bit late in getting around to this one. Michael Rosen’s Sad Book (2004, but with a 2005 first U.S. edition publication date), a Boston Globe-Horn Book Honor book, is one I’ve been wanting to read, and it really was worth the wait. Saying this picture book is moving would be an understatement; it’s heart-rending, yet very hopeful.

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I’m nervous about writing about Samurai Shortstop by Alan Gratz for the same reason I was nervous about reading it – I know the author. Many years ago, Alan and I did time together in the same theatre company, and even though I haven’t seen him in far too long, I still consider him a friend and would have felt really, truly awful if I’d read his very first published novel and didn’t like it. But rest assured, Dear Reader; I would never let a little thing like friendship compromise the integrity of my book recommendations. Believe me when I tell you that my fears were unfounded: the book totally ROCKS.

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Jules here, a.k.a. Miss Link-A-Lot, according to Eisha. I can’t stop adding author and illustrator links to the right.

So, we told folks about our blog yesterday, and that included my father. I was a bit nervous about what he’d think, ’cause he’s so dang smart. If I were half as smart as he is, I’d be set for life. And he said he enjoys it. He also said, “My only comment would be that it seems to be slanted to ‘ladies’ books since I did not recognize any of the books you are reviewing.” I love it! And, before anyone cries sexist!, let me say: a). he says it with no guile and in all sincerity and innocence, and b). don’t be pickin’ on my dad, yo. I’m sorry, but that’s just so cute (you have to imagine Wilford Brimley saying this, since he kinda looks like him sometimes). So, maybe I can find some books to read on model ship-building, which is his favorite hobby (and which I’m sure lots of ladies like to read about, too); I need to expand my reading horizons anyway (actually, I’d be better off reading about the ships and history behind the models he builds; any model I tried to put together would tumble to pieces pretty quickly, since graceful I ain’t and since I seem to have no right brain, but I digress). However, as for me reading other books he likes to read, I will not — I repeat, will not — read The Origin of Consciousness in the Breakdown of the Bicameral Mind that, yes, he tried to get me to read once. Lordy lord and sorry, but I gotta draw the line some where, Dad.

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Here’s something I’ve been dreading. I hate having to write down anything really negative about a book, because it’s not like I’ve had anything published, so anything I read, no matter how foul, still has one up on me. And I really wanted to like this one, too. But, in the interest of keeping this blog honest, and possibly saving anyone else from making the same mistake…

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So, the other night I came home kind of late, and as I was driving up to the apartment I saw a skunk, a SKUNK, run across the street in front of my car, from our landlord’s driveway to the neighbor’s yard.

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