Horn Book Magazine

Transcription

Horn Book Magazine

Special Issue: Different Drummers
March/April 2013
®
Volume LXXXIX Number 2
Features
Barbara Bader 21 Z Is for Elastic: The Amazing Stretch of Paul Zelinsky
A look at the versatile artist’s career.
Roger Sutton 30 Jack (and Jill) Be Nimble:
An Interview with Mary Cash and Jason Low
Independent publishers stay flexible and look to the future.
Eugene Yelchin 41 The Price of Truth
Reading books in a police state.
Elizabeth Burns 47 Reading: It’s More Than Meets the Eye
Making books accessible to print-disabled children.
Columns
Editorial
Roger Sutton
7
See, It’s Not Just Me
In which we celebrate the nonconforming among us.
The Writer’s Page
Polly Horvath and Jack Gantos 11 Two Writers Look at Weird
Are they weird? What is weird, anyway?
And will Jack ever reply to Polly?
Different Drums
What’s the strangest children’s book you’ve ever enjoyed?
Elizabeth Bird 18 Seven Little Ones Instead
Luann Toth20Word Girl
Deborah Stevenson 29 Horrible and Beautiful
Kristin Cashore 39 Embracing the Strange
Susan Marston 46 New and Strange, Once
Elizabeth Law 58 How Can a Fire Be Naughty?
Christine Taylor-Butler71Something Wicked
Mitali Perkins 72 Border Crossing
Vaunda Micheaux Nelson 79 Wiggiling
Sight Reading
Leonard S. Marcus 54 Wit’s End: The Art of Tomi Ungerer
A “willfully perverse and subversive individualist.”
(continued on next page)
®
March/April 2013
Columns (continued)
Field Notes
Elizabeth Bluemle 59 When Pigs Fly: The Improbable Dream
of Bookselling in a Digital Age
How one indie children’s bookstore stays
afloat.
S w i m
H i g H
A c r o S S
What Makes a Good…?
Claire Gross 64 What Makes a Good
YA Coming-Out Novel?
Caldecott at 75
Kathleen T. Horning 73 Prayer for a Child and the Test of Time
Second in a series on the Caldecott Medal
at seventy-five—one winner per decade,
here the 1940s.
100
From The Guide
143Novels in Verse
A selection of reviews from
The Horn Book Guide.
Cadenza
Raina Telgemeier 152 My Life in Comics
The creator of Smile and Drama
shares her passion for her art form.
11
Reviews
81 Book Reviews
141 Audiobook Reviews Departments
5 March/April Starred Books
145 Impromptu
150 Index to Advertisers
151 Index to Books Reviewed
86
Cover © 2013 by Paul O. Zelinsky.
Page 1 art from The Beast of Monsieur Racine.
© 1971 by Tomi Ungerer.
Greenwillow Books
2 The Horn Book Magazine March/April 2013
An Imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers
t H e
S k y
Starred Books
A Media Source Company
Editor in Chief: Roger Sutton
Executive Editor: Martha V. Parravano
M a r c h /A p r i l 2 013
Senior Editor: Elissa Gershowitz
Editorial Assistant: Cynthia K. Ritter
One Gorilla
Marketing & Editorial Assistant:
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(Candlewick) by Anthony Browne (page 82)
Principal Reviewers:
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Robin L. Smith
Have You Seen
My New Blue Socks?
(Clarion) by Eve Bunting;
illus. by Sergio Ruzzier (page 82)
My Father’s Arms Are a Boat
(Enchanted Lion) by Stein Erik Lunde;
illus. by Øyvind Torseter (page 87)
The Dark
Online Content Editor: Elissa Gershowitz
(Little, Brown) by Lemony Snicket;
illus. by Jon Klassen (page 91)
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Benjamin Bear in “Bright Ideas!”
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Volume LXXXIX Number 2
Yaqui Delgado Wants to Kick Your Ass
The Dark. Illustrations © 2013 by Jon Klassen.
President: Randall J. Asmo
Publisher: Ian Singer
VP Marketing: Andrew Thorne
Business Manager: Rosalie Schweitzer
(Candlewick) by Meg Medina (page 114)
Midwinterblood
(Roaring Brook) by Marcus Sedgwick (page 118)
Hoop Genius:
How a Desperate Teacher and a
Rowdy Gym Class Invented Basketball
(Carolrhoda) by John Coy;
illus. by Joe Morse (page 134)
March/April 2013 The Horn Book Magazine 5
THE AMAZING WORLDS
OF NIC BISHOP
Editorial
See, It’s Not Just Me
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★ “Brilliant.”
★“Riveting.”
★“Intriguing.”
978-0-545-20638-9
978-0-545-20634-1
978-0-439-87758-9
★“Stunning.”
★“Irresistible.”
—Horn Book, starred review
—School Library Journal, starred review
978-0-439-87757-2
978-0-439-87755-8
978-0-439-87756-5
—School Library Journal, starred review
—Booklist, starred review
SCHOLASTIC™ Scholastic Inc.
scholastic.com
★“Dazzling.”
series want to be like that other guy’s series, and those other guys become fewer
and fewer as publishing consolidates itself, we thought it might be nice to take
a time-out in favor of the outliers. Welcome to the Horn Book’s special issue
on Different Drummers, in which we celebrate the odd, the marginalized, the
independent, and the otherwise nonconforming among us.
Business as usual, you might think, in an industry that just gave its two biggest awards to books about a finger-painting gorilla and a larcenous fish—and
you might have a point. As we planned the issue, I had what I thought was a
clever idea to somehow graphically denote the reviews herein of books that we
thought embodied and/or celebrated difference. Maybe we could have stickered
them with a little Horn of Gondor or something. But that quickly revealed
itself as a ridiculous idea: notwithstanding the nine YA novels with one-word
titles, the review section is bristling with nonconformity. Kittens in hard hats,
rabbits on skates, a boy with twelve fingers, a wereopossum, and all manner
of supernaturally or scientifically enhanced young heroes populate the picture
book and fiction reviews; pioneers such as Tito Puente, Anne Carroll Moore,
Elizabeth Blackwell, and Igor Stravinsky are subjects of books reviewed in the
nonfiction section. Children’s literature takes all kinds. (In “Different Drums,”
short pieces scattered throughout the issue, our contributors tell you about
some of the strangest.)
What this issue is aiming at are the books, the readers, the writers and artists,
and the publishers who stand out from even the given otherness of our profession. Polly Horvath and Jack Gantos address the accusation of being weird. Barbara Bader and Leonard S. Marcus allow Paul O. Zelinsky and Tomi Ungerer
to let their freak flags fly. In an industry that survives by cannibalism, Elizabeth
Bluemle, Mary Cash, and Jason Low discuss staying out of the pot. Liz Burns
and Claire Gross and Eugene Yelchin talk about books for kids who are perfectly not-weird but whose way to reading may be complicated by circumstances
weirder than they should be.
As far as reading itself goes, it’s both a community and a private—sometimes
Each: Ages 4–8
48 pages • $17.99
C E L E B R AT I N G O U R
secret—activity. Certainly, children of all stripes and sizes read in public without shame, and certain books foster social inclusion and even cachet. I remember our CEO Randy Asmo telling me how his son became king for a day at
school by having scored an early copy of the latest Wimpy Kid title, and while
I’m slightly squicked-out by the willingness of people to read Fifty Shades Freed
on the subway, right out there for anyone to see, I admire their nerve. This is
conventional reading in the best sense—books that tell the rest of the tribe that
you’re keeping up and paying attention.
At other times, we read as a way to distinguish ourselves, to commune with
those parts of the self that don’t seem to keep pace with the daily parade. Ironically, but of course, we discover by reading that there is in fact at least one other
person who knows exactly how we feel. (There’s a great portrait of this kind of
reading in Jo Walton’s Among Others, an adult book I’ve recently been urging
upon everyone, my private reading become call to the faithful.) Independence
is one thing, alienation is another; reading keeps the latter at bay while allowing
the former to flourish. roger sutton
AWARD WINNERS
Caldecott Honor Winner
Geisel Award Winner
Sibert Honor Winner
Newbery
Honor Winner
Batchelder
Award Winner
Coretta Scott King
Illustrator Honor Winner
Penguin Young Readers Group
penguinclassroom.com
PenguinClassroom
Coretta Scott King
Author Honor Winner
@PenguinClass
Th e Wr i t e r’s Pag e
Two Writers
Look at Weird
by Polly Horvath and Jack Gantos
From: Polly Horvath
To: Jack Gantos
Roger wants us to answer this: “People—some people—say your
books are weird. Do you think your books are weird?”
This is what I plan to say.
No, I don’t think my books are weird,
and it hurts my feelings when people
say they are. I was particularly hurt
recently when someone described one
of my books as “weird even for her.”
Right after reading that comment,
I sat down to watch O Brother, Where
Art Thou? It wasn’t really my choice.
My daughter was home visiting, and
she forced me. I love the Coen brothers, but the first time I tried to watch
O Brother, Where Art Thou?, I gave up
because it was…too weird. In fact, it
irritated me that the great American
filmmakers would waste their time
making such a weird little film.
I settled in anyhow because I wanted
a place to sulk and frame responses
to “weird even for her.” I figured I’d
just ignore the movie. But to my great
surprise, I no longer found the movie
weird. I’d seen enough Coen brothers
by that point to gain a facility with the
language Coen. I was no longer sitting there as I had the first time with
my arms crossed, muttering, “Oh,
you’re just being too weird.” There’s a
wonderful scene in the movie where a
Polly Horvath’s latest book is One Year in Coal Harbor, and she
translated, from the original Rabbit, Mr. and Mrs. Bunny—Detectives
Extraordinaire! (both Schwartz & Wade/Random). Jack Gantos won
the 2012 Newbery Medal for Dead End in Norvelt (Farrar).
From: Polly Horvath
flood comes and sweeps up everything
To: Jack Gantos
and everyone in its mighty waters.
And that’s what it felt like. That I had
Hi, Jack. Martha and Roger want to
volunteered to leave the comfortable
know if we resent being pigeon-holed
footing of my familiar shores and get
(if we think we are) as quirky, offbeat,
swept into a Coen flood that carried me
zany, etc.?
somewhere I would not otherwise have
This assumes that we view our own
reached.
work as weird. But weird is a judgment
I once read a book about language
by someone on the outside of a work.
acquisition that said
The writer has the
that people with the
first experience of
“Weird” is a judgment
strongest egos have
the story and must
the hardest time
by someone on the outside necessarily be inside
learning a new lanof a work. Nothing is
of it. Nothing is truly
guage because they’ve
knowable except
truly knowable except
already found somefrom the inside. And
from
the
inside.
thing that works for
anything truly known
them. They are not
isn’t weird.
anxious to give it up to the unknown
But of course it isn’t always easy
and where it might take them. When a
for either the writer or the reader to
person becomes fluent in a second lanmove from the outside to the inside.
guage, they actually develop a whole new
They have to leave behind, in creation
personality. They are a different person
or response, all that is fake. Art is, as
in English than they are in French. This
Sister Wendy says in an interview with
is why people who have experienced
Bill Moyers, “a great tester of the fake
trauma or heartbreak often find thembecause it must be the real you that
selves with a compulsion to learn Italcreates or responds. And the more the
ian. It not only gives them a new way
real you dares to create or respond,
of looking at the world and a different
the more the real you is there.” This is
frame of reference—it changes who
the great reward, the great moment of
they are. And that is primarily what I
being for either the writer or the reader.
think we mean when we say something
For a long time when I got letters
is weird. We are saying, This is scary
from people saying that one of my
because it might make me see things
books had moved them, I couldn’t
differently and that would change who
connect. It bothered me. It seemed
I am. That is the scariness of weird and
ungrateful to feel I didn’t even really
also its strength.
care about these letters, that they had
nothing to do with me. Recently, I
have understood that what I was feeling
(although I didn’t understand it) was
that these readers were thanking me for
creating a catalyst for something deep
within them to show up. They weren’t
really delighting in me. They were
delighting in themselves. And since I
didn’t know them and they didn’t know
me, I was right: there was no connection. Not in that sense. But there was
the work. And that is what art is. The
middleman.
From: Mrs. Bunny
To: Jack Gantos
Hi, Mr. Gantos,
The Horn Book asks the following:
“Jack has a book about
obsessive mother love/
taxidermy. Polly has a book
about bunny detectives.
Have you
ever had a novel turned
down by a publisher?
Have you ever been asked
to write something with
broader appeal?”
Polly has turned this section of the
discussion over to me because once
again someone has not read the jacket
of Mr. and Mrs. Bunny—Detectives
Extraordinaire! and is attributing the
book to her. Humans! What are you
going to do? Can’t live with them and
can’t eat them. (Without the proper
condiments.)
Well, to begin, this was Mrs. Bunny’s
first book, so she has yet to get the
“please write something with broader
appeal” kind of rejection slip that has
caused so many rabbits to hang them-
selves by their ears from the nearest
light fixture. Secondly, Mr. and Mrs.
Bunny has very broad appeal in both
the human and bunny market and even
among foxes—although there it is being
marketed as a horror story. And we all
know the many-specied popularity of
your books, Mr. Gantos.
But let Mrs. Bunny put her thinking
cap on. It seems to her that the Horn
Book is setting things up as weird vs.
mainstream. Mrs. Bunny would ask
herself, having delved into a certain
amount of human popular fiction, Are
bunny detectives stranger than owls
delivering letters or some godforsaken
creature called a Dementor? Is obsessive
mother love/taxidermy weirder than
adolescent girls being infatuated with
young men who want to suck their
blood (never Mrs. Bunny’s idea of an
attractive courting ritual) or television
shows where the object is to kill everyone else and be the last one standing?
I mean, objectively speaking, are they,
Mr. Gantos, are they?
So! Mrs. Bunny thinks perhaps we
are not talking about weird vs. mainstream. We are talking about something
else here. We are talking about a kind of
nervousness some books evoke. A kind
of apprehension. Some suspicion that
one is going to have to work for one’s
dinner.
Sister Wendy calls this not weird
vs. mainstream, but pure vs. comfort.
“Comforting art,” she says, is art that
is easy to react to. “Everyone knows
exactly what they think about it…Feeling I know I can judge without having
From: Some anonymous person over
there at the Horn Book named,
oh, say, Fred
To: Mrs. Bunny
So if it’s weird and difficult, it is art?
From: Mrs. Bunny
To: Oh Say Fred
No. It may not evoke any response in
you. Twin Peaks was to Mrs. Bunny’s
greatly discerning eyes weird, but Mrs.
Bunny thinks it is not art, because
when she got inside it, it was no longer
weird—but it wasn’t really anything else
either. There seemed a definite lack of
there, there. There, there is a must.
From: Oh Say Fred
To: Mrs. Bunny
Well, then, what if everyone says it is
art, but yet it doesn’t awaken a flowering within you? No sudden understanding that this is something magical and
mysterious that you are now in contact
with.
From: Mrs. Bunny
To: Oh Say Fred
Yes, but it could be that you are not
ready for this story. And maybe never
will be. Your response alone doesn’t
define its artiness.
From: Oh Say Fred
To: Mrs. Bunny
Well, frankly then I don’t know what
you’ve been going on about.
From: Mrs. Bunny
To: Oh Say Fred
I didn’t say this was going to be simple.
Leslie Fiedler used to say that when
he came upon something that didn’t
awaken a flowering within, he would
say to himself, “What is lacking in
me that I fail to respond to this?” But
try that one on some editor slogging
through the slush pile.
Right: Mr. and Mrs. Bunny—Detectives Extraordinaire! Illustration © 2012 by Sophie Blackall. Left: Not So Rotten Ralph. Illustration © 1994 by Nicole Rubel.
to look, without having to take trouble.
That is comforting.” You don’t have
to dig deep within to show up for it.
Sometimes Mrs. Bunny finds she wants
this. Sometimes she wants to read
Bridget Jones’s Diary. But sometimes
she wants to read American Pastoral. It
reminds Mrs. Bunny of the time she
put a water feature in the garden. Mr.
Bunny was not a fan. “Don’t you find
it soothing?” she asked Mr. Bunny,
but he replied, “Mrs. Bunny, I do not
ALWAYS wish to be soothed. Sometimes I like to be WORKED UP!”
Of course Mrs. Bunny is not sure
that you or Polly Horvath could call
your books pure as opposed to comforting. That is a judgment that must come
from others, and only as time will tell.
In other words, you’ll be toes up fertilizing the carrot bed, Mr. Gantos, before
anything definitive is decided. Mrs.
Bunny is sure only that her own book
must be of the pure variety because Mr.
Bunny is always declaiming that her
writing career has been no comfort to
him whatsoever.
From: Polly Horvath and Mrs. Bunny
To: Jack Gantos
Jack, help us out here.
From: Jack Gantos
To: Polly Horvath
Thank you, Polly, for your thoughts
on the subject of not being weird.
(And please thank your colleague,
Mrs. Bunny, for her thoughts as well.)
I fully subscribe to Polly’s point that
the more you understand a piece of
art, and the more you empathize with
the world within a book, and the more
you give yourself over to an external
experience, the more it radiates within
you in a genuinely transformative way.
This is not weird. It is as profound as
early Homo sapiens painting portraits
of themselves on cave walls. They
discovered their other selves, and thus
self-dialogue was born and blossomed.
Which was fantastic! Where would we
be as a species without self-reflection?
As for me, I can’t say that anything
I’ve published thus far is intentionally
weird, as I think weird is a very calculated result of a writer’s intent. I certainly
don’t want my readers to be weird as a
result of reading my books, but if some-
thing I write ignites them to reflect on
themselves or others, and causes meaningful change and understanding, then I
am gratified. When I publish a book, it
is a form of sharing myself, and given the
range of my publications (from picture
books to a prison memoir), I don’t think
any of my books are weird.
Besides, to be truly weird I believe a
book has to live in the dark full-time,
unexposed to readers’ spying eyes.
In other words, a truly weird book
is an unpublished book—a rejected
manuscript, in fact. So let me take
you to Bates Hall in the Boston Public
Library—a 218-foot-long, forty-twofoot-wide room with a fifty-foothigh barrel-vaulted ceiling, with 224
numbered seats around twenty-eight
oak tables. In this room is where, since
1974, I have written the majority of my
forty-five published books. Here I have
also written three full-length unpublished and thoroughly rejected and
unrehabilitated novels, which remain
in manuscript form. It is these three
cadaverous novels I wish to write about
in response to Roger’s query: “To some
people your books are weird. Do you
think they are weird?”
In Bates Hall I always name my nov- re-remember them and reset their type
in the doing. “Seat #37” was rejected
els after the seat number in which I sit
many times. At first I used to take out
during the writing of the manuscript,
the red-inked and hand-typed manuand I always change seats with each
script, which lived in a file cabinet I
new manuscript. Recently, I drifted
affectionately called “The Triage.” I
into Bates Hall. Looking out across
know this manuscript better than any
that vast room is like looking out at an
of my published books because I dwell
old New England graveyard, with the
on it as a wound that
tall, rounded backs
won’t heal, and I am
of the captain’s chairs
To be truly weird, I
not looking for a cure.
rising up above the
believe
a
book
has
to
live
I wander the familiar
tables like flinty, skullstreets of sentences
carved headstones. I
in the dark full-time,
and blocks of paralove this room, and so
unexposed to readers’
graphs and towns of
one by one I visited
spying eyes.
chapters. I love the
seat #37, seat #57,
labyrinth of misplaced
and seat #117. I think
words, decaying architecture, dead-end
of the manuscripts written there not
story lines, and jaundiced weather.
as the dead but as unique books that
“Seat #37” is an exceptionally rare
have been buried alive within me, and
book for me because it is the most
in this way I think of them constantly
as my greatest private works—books so flawed, and thus a traveling museum
of woeful double chins, gimpy phrases,
rare that only I will ever know them.
forced adjectives, excess rants, and
Many years ago, before electronic
corrosive promises masquerading as
burglary detection, I used to hide
true love. But for editors who had read
inside a long hollow coffin of a bench
“Seat #37”…well, it is as if I took a
with a hinged seat just outside of Bates
mighty oak tree in the fullness of sumHall in the Pompeii alcove. I would
mer and painted a letter on each leaf,
wait until the library closed and for
and then when they dropped in the fall
the guards to give a final “all clear” to
I gathered them up and taped them
the darkened rooms, and then I would
onto large sheets of paper (seventy
push upward on the seat, crawl out,
leaves to the line and twenty lines to
and quietly creep into Bates Hall. In
the page, which equals 1,400 leaves).
those days I only had two failed novThe serendipitous text, with words
els, the ones written at seats #117 and
more unknown than Esperanto, cre#37, and I would sit for hours in those
ated nothing but chaos. Though this
seats without pen or paper. There was
book was rejected by all, I still love it.
no reason to take notes. As I thought
I wake up at night from a dream and
about the novels, I was no longer
realize I’ve been walking the alleys of
attempting to rewrite them, but to
the sentences in my sleep.
Over at seat #117 is a manuscript
that, like Chernobyl, is encased forever
inside my own dome. It is the story of
a situational mute touring the Amazon
rainforest in an effort to communicate
nonverbally with indigenous people—
something along the lines of how
termites communicate as described by
E. O. Wilson in his great book Sociobiology: The New Synthesis and in Karl von
Frisch’s book that decodes the language
of dancing bees. It would be best to
pulp this manuscript and instead affix
a book binding onto a small mirror so
that the reader could open the cover
and stare into a ready-made dictionary
of gestural language. Or not. This book
is difficult to pin down.
“Seat #57” was written after motion
detectors were installed, and so I could
never sit at that seat overnight and
ponder its endless manifestations. It is
a flawed manuscript fitted out with a
broken rudder like the wounded German battleship Bismarck in the Atlantic,
which could only steer in circles like a
carnival marksmanship game while the
British Navy pounded it into submission and sent it to Davy Jones’s Locker.
This book is about quantum physics
and the micro-implanted levers of a
charade government scheming within
the president’s mind. “Seat #57” was
rejected, and because it was the manuscript I submitted to Farrar right before
Dead End in Norvelt, the words are
still freshly painted on the inside of my
skull. It is odd to “abandon ship” on a
manuscript and to sit in a lifeboat and
stare at the listing hulk as it drifts in
and out of sight but never goes away. It
never sinks.
I imagine all my rejected books,
petting them as I page through and
nurture them. They are my abandoned
litter of kittens—runts to some but
tigers to me, prowling under my skin,
their very own Eden where my mind is
their lair and my heart is the prey that
nurtures them each day. Whenever I sit
at seat #57 (where, incidentally, I am
writing this), I quietly promise, “I will
never submit you again. Inside of me
you will always be pure.”
The above ordinary slice of life is
what is within the mind of this writer.
What is beautiful to me is the fabulous
Lovecraft of impossible landscapes
where, within each person, the extraordinary resides. The rare-book-room
of the mind is a tonic compared to
the outside world, which is unrelentingly predictable. Each day I read
three newspapers. I can count on the
consistency of hate, prejudice, anger,
death, cheating, ignorance, crime—all
cancers spawned by the foul reign of
pulp social behavior. What people think
of my books is not my concern. What is
beautiful to me is beautiful to me. The
undiscovered tombs of Egypt prefer to
remain undiscovered. They know that,
once opened, their murals will slowly
fade to white like skulls bleached out by
the sun.
Don’t open the tomb. Close your eyes
and imagine it. Nothing could be more
beautiful than what you can’t share. Is
that weird? n
Different Drums
Congratulations
to Macmillan Children’s
Seven Little Ones Instead
2013 ALA Award Winners!
by Elizabeth Bird
“No answers are provided, no hints are given.
This lack of resolution makes for an ultimately
unsatisfying story.” So said SLJ of the early 1990s
Swedish import Else-Marie and Her Seven Little
Daddies by Pija Lindenbaum (and adapted by
Gabrielle Charbonnet). Like that reviewer, I too
encountered this book as an adult. Unlike that
reviewer, I found it so strange and so unlike any
of the American picture books I knew that I fell
deeply and unrepentantly in love. The plot is
simple. Rather than one big daddy, Else-Marie
has seven little ones. No explanation for this is
given (hence SLJ ’s cries of pain). Our heroine is just a normal little girl with universal fears. She’s embarrassed by her parents’ singing, worried about the impression
they’ll make on her friends at school, etc. In the event that the reader is a child, the
internal logic of the book is airtight. Kids of the younger ages are simply not going
to ponder the sticky details of how, exactly, one girl comes from seven little men
(though a wedding shot of the mother in her white dress with her tiny bridegrooms
collected around her ankles was enough to get my imagination spinning).
The temptation, of course, is to consider this book (now out of print in the
United States) ahead of its time. It thumbs its nose so thoroughly at standard conventions and the normality of so-called “traditional” families that as a parent I find
myself wanting to draw some sort of lesson from its good-natured, nontraditional
attitude. However, I cannot help but think that that would be as much a mistake
as it would be to apply Freudian interpretations to the admittedly ripe situation. In
the end, I think we just have to accept that sometimes seven vertically challenged
fathers are just seven vertically challenged fathers. n
Elizabeth Bird is a children’s librarian at the New York Public Library. Her blog,
A Fuse #8 Production, is hosted at slj.com, and she is the author of Children’s Literature Gems: Choosing and Using Them in Your Library Career and the forthcoming Giant Dance Party (Greenwillow), illustrated by Brandon Dorman.
Else-Marie and Her Seven Little Daddies. Illustration © 1991 by Pija Lindenbaum.
CALDECOTT
HONOR
NEWBERY
HONOR
YALSA Award
for Excellence
in Nonfiction
for Young
Adults Medal
Winner
Sibert Medal
Winner
GREEN
by Laura Vaccaro Seeger
A NEAL PORTER BOOK/ROARING BROOK PRESS
ISBN: 9781596433977
BOMB
The Race to Build—and Steal—the
World’s Most Dangerous Weapon
by Steve Sheinkin
FLASH POINT/ROARING BROOK PRESS
ISBN: 9781596434875
YALSA Award
for Excellence in
Nonfiction for Young
Adults Finalist
YALSA Award
for Excellence
in Nonfiction for
Young Adults
Finalist
Sibert Honor
STEVE JOBS
MOONBIRD
The Man Who
Thought Different
A Year on the Wind with
the Great Survivor B95
by Karen Blumenthal
by Phillip Hoose
FEIWEL & FRIENDS
HC ISBN: 9781250015570
PB ISBN: 9781250014450
FARRAR STRAUS GIROUX
BOOKS FOR YOUNG READERS
ISBN: 9780374304683
Morris Finalist
AFTER THE
SNOW
by S. D. Crockett
FEIWEL & FRIENDS
ISBN: 9780312641696
Odyssey Honor for Excellence
in Audiobook Production
MONSTROUS BEAUTY
by Elizabeth Fama
read by Katherine Kellgren
FARRAR STRAUS GIROUX
BOOKS FOR YOUNG READERS
HC ISBN: 9780374373665
MACMILLAN YOUNG LISTENERS
Audiobook CD ISBN: 9781427222176
macmillan children’s publishing group
mackids.com
Different Drums
Word Girl
Z Is for Elastic:
by Luann Toth
The Amazing Stretch of Paul Zelinsky
by Barbara Bader
I have to confess upfront to being a word girl.
Luann Toth is the managing editor of School Library Journal’s book review. Her
background is in public library service, but she has been with the magazine for
twenty-three years.
What would Margaret Wise Brown have been without Clement
Hurd? There’d have been no Goodnight Moon.
The Arrival. © 2006 by Shaun Tan.
Don’t get me wrong: I love art, especially when the interplay of a book’s words and
images click to form the perfect vehicle for the storytelling, but it is usually a character’s voice and the author’s prose that give me a sense of where I am and how to
navigate the landscape. Having never really read comics as a kid, I was slow to warm
to the graphic novel format and had rather awkwardly
embraced the potential of visual narratives.
Then came Shaun Tan’s The Arrival. The traditional look and feel of a timeworn family album,
with its sepia cover image, grounds readers in an
easily relatable reality. But wait, what else is going
on here? Who or what is that bizarre creature? It is
immediately clear that this unassuming man with
suitcase in hand is entering a place that is at once
strange and marvelous, and we are irresistibly drawn
to follow him. This juxtaposition of the real and the surreal, the familiar and the
foreign, is at the heart of a brilliant, wordless exploration of the immigrant experience. Tan opens with domestic scenes of home, heart, and family, and the suitcase,
into which the man packs up all that is known and comforting. A page turn shows
readers all that they need to know about the ominous threat that looms over his
homeland and why he must leave in search of a safe haven for his loved ones. The
alienation and dispirited confusion of being a stranger in a strange land becomes
palpable in the sequential art. The man is as helpless as a child as he needs to
relearn basic life functions in a bustling industrial city. Yet despite the hardships and
displacement, he slowly makes friends and begins to forge a new life. The haunting
beauty of Tan’s artwork and the sheer audaciousness of his imagination gave the
story its emotional resonance and made this word girl a true believer in the power
and reach of visual storytelling. n
What would Ruth Krauss have been
without Maurice Sendak or Crockett
Johnson or Marc Simont? There’d have
been no Hole Is to Dig or Carrot Seed or
Happy Day.
Some of the most original, imaginative picture book scripts have come
from writers who relied on artist-illustrators to reconceive them in pictorial
terms. The rare illustrators endowed
with a willing hand and second sight.
And just when it seems as if there’s
nothing new under the sun, such a pairup comes along, overturning—of all
things—the very order of the alphabet.
Paul O. Zelinsky was born free,
it appears. He drew avidly from earliest
childhood, and by the time he was
in high school he was illustrating his
assigned readings and the writings of
friends. Then he had the good fortune
to be at Yale when Maurice Sendak was
teaching a course on children’s books,
their history and illustration.
As his own work testified, Sendak
had an equally keen interest in high
art, the art of museums, and popular
art, the art of newsstands. He collected with discrimination and gusto:
Randolph Caldecott and Beatrix
Potter, among forerunners; Ruth
Krauss and Crockett Johnson, among
contemporaries; and at large, Lothar
Meggendorfer, an inventor of books
with movable parts. In this, too, he
was a forerunner.
Zelinsky was an apt pupil.
His first three noteworthy picture
books might be called two curios and
a cameo—and you probably wouldn’t
recognize them as the work of a single
Barbara Bader, a longtime contributor to the Horn Book, is the author of American Picturebooks from Noah’s Ark to the Beast Within. She has written extensively on picture books,
folklore, multicultural literature, the history of libraries, and publishing for children.
Hansel and Gretel. Illustration © 1984 by Paul O. Zelinsky.
illustrator. Who launches a career by
The Lion and the Stoat (1984) is a
being unrecognizable?
lark—three episodes in the competiThe Maid and the Mouse and the Oddtive life of two rival artists, a lion and a
Shaped House (1981) is based on an old
stoat, partially derived by Zelinsky from
tell-and-draw, add-on rhyme. The “wee
(of all things) Pliny’s Natural History.
maid” is an old-fashioned old lady, her
Who is the better artist, lion in top hat
mouse companion plays the sax, and
and tails or stoat in scarf and beret? The
the odd-shaped house they move into
contests are full of surprises; the drawgrows, addition by addition, into a pageings are spotted with amusing detail;
filling, rampaging cat. In cottage-kitchen
there’s wit wherever you look—in the
pastels, with costumed
frown on a turtle’s face,
figures and decorative
in the converging, surInventiveness and
details to match, it’s
real ceiling lines. The
quaint and perky, amushumor have been
takeaway message: art is
ing and inventive.
hallmarks of Zelinsky’s engagement, art is fun.
The Sun’s Asleep
Meanwhile, Zelinsky
work from the start.
Behind the Hill (1982)
was doing line drawings
is an adaptation of an
for fiction by Avi and
Armenian lullaby by the accomplished
Beverly Cleary, among other commisMirra Ginsburg, empathically reconsions. Cleary’s belated Newbery winner,
ceived by Zelinsky. “The sun shone in
Dear Mr. Henshaw, has his pictures.
the sky all day. / The sun grew tired and
He was building a backlist, and he was
went away to sleep behind the hill.” In
versatile.
dusky, spacious watercolor and pastel
But 1984 saw him shift, starkly, from
landscapes, the twilight deepens; leaves,
the periphery to the mainstream: with
bird, and squirrel grow tired and seek
Hansel and Gretel, probably the most
rest; and a little boy, first glimpsed
famous of Grimm tales, rendered in
flying his kite, is carried homeward
weighty, great-masterlike paintings,
by his mother, to be last seen asleep,
a complement to poet and translator
kite on wall, moon shining in window.
Rika Lesser’s grave retelling.
Throughout, insets on alternate spreads
For all its popularity as a story and
illustrate the refrain and supply a kind
as a “property” (World Cat lists 3,772
of subtext. “The bird sang / in the bush
in book form), “Hansel and Gretel”
all day. / The bird grew tired, / The
is inherently difficult to handle as a
bird is quiet.” Curled up in its nest, the
picture book. With its episodes of
bird is barely visible: to the onlooker,
emotional cruelty and physical terror,
it’s snug and safe. A two-lap goodnight
it’s one of those stories best heard, or
book, as we might once have said, with
read, with a single arresting illustraproportions and perspectives, as well as
tion. Most picture-book versions go
images, suited to very young eyes.
light on the darker aspects; Zelinsky
doesn’t. Opening by opening,
one spine-chilling illustration
follows another.
Narrative composition is
one of his strengths, visible in
the wordless mini-drama of
little-boy-and-kite in The Sun’s
Asleep. In Hansel and Gretel,
the illustration of the children
being hurried into the forest (a
second time) by their unrelenting parents, the linchpin of
the story, is a dramatic marvel.
The road sweeps around from
the immediate foreground
to the mid-distance, where
Hansel stops to drop his telltale
crumbs; but the thrust is vigorously, almost violently forward—toward the forest, the
next page, and what awaits.
The artwork of Hansel and
Gretel is redolent of German
Romanticism, with its combination
of the bleak and the impenetrable.
Rumpelstiltskin (1986), on the other
hand, is set squarely in a reincarnation
of Northern Renaissance painting.
Some of the illustrations are magical, in a fairy-tale way. Who can forget
the double-page spread of the queen’s
emissary, spotlit, as she pursues her
stealthy midnight search through the
forest for the little man, to somehow
learn his name? But much of this
simple story, about a young woman
who makes a bargain with a wizard and
how she gets out of it, is burdened with
an immensity of architectural detail and
other scenic effects. The verbal parrying
From Hansel and Gretel.
between the two, the crux of the story,
loses out.
Hansel and Gretel and Rumpelstiltskin
were both Caldecott Honor books (as
was Swamp Angel, coming up). When
Rapunzel (1997) appeared, in an Italian
Renaissance guise more imposing than
its predecessors’, it was bound to win
the Caldecott for effort and ambition.
The story of a lovely young girl
imprisoned in a tower at puberty is
problematic for children of picturebook age; and to my mind, the
presentation is too much for the story.
Oversize pages are the setting for
oversize actions—the sorceress-jailer
looms, contorts, shrieks, and pops her
eyes. No misfortune goes undepicted:
see the prince, overseen by the malevolent sorceress, falling in horror from the
tower. Then see him, on the opposite
page, lying inert on the ground. The
physical action overshadows the emotional drama. But no one can forget that
spectacular tower.
Zelinsky’s knack for animating
almost any kind of material yielded, in
the years between Hansel and Gretel and
Rapunzel, a rich miscellany: two picture
books about extraordinary women and
a book with movable parts, among others. He was his own singular self.
The first picture book was Lore
Segal’s sly comic turn, The Story of Mrs.
Lovewright and Purrless Her Cat (1985).
The Story of Mrs. Lovewright and Purrless Her Cat. Illustration © 1985 by Paul O. Zelinsky.
deftest piece of stagecraft may be the
“formal” frontispiece: on a very large
page, “wood-framed,” is a “primitive”
portrait of a very large young woman,
a giantess, with piercing blue eyes and
a dome of red hair. Since she is alone
in the picture, how do we know she is
very large? Zelinsky has repeatedly dealt
with issues of size, and his resources are
incalculable. Here, Angelica Longrider,
a.k.a. Swamp Angel, has a huge head…
flowing down into smoothly rounded,
sloping shoulders…which terminate in
small, gentle, almost dainty hands…
that clasp a tiny bunch of minutely
detailed flowers, a touchstone of folk
painting.
From baby Angelica’s birth, the
pictures build in successive serialnarration images that wind around
the double-page spreads until Angelica
grows too large to be contained even
in the double-width. Why, when she
lines up behind the local frontiersmen
for a shot at Thundering Tarnation, the
biggest baddest bear, only her head and
shoulders are visible behind the hill.
The book can be opened at random,
and savored. For every one of Angelica’s
feats, Zelinsky devises a new pictorial
solution; a feat in itself. For a tutorial
in narrative illustration, you couldn’t do
better.
Swamp Angel was done in oil in a
range of woodsy to swamp-grassy hues.
The Wheels on the Bus flaunts the sharp
pinks and reds and yellows of city and
town life. Mrs. Lovelace is distinctly
orange and blue. In the three books,
distinctive colorations, acquired by
different techniques, give each book a
particular identity. Would you, then,
The Wheels on the Bus. © 1990 by Paul O. Zelinsky.
From The Story of Mrs. Lovewright
and Purrless Her Cat.
Segal and Zelinsky’s sly comic turn,
rather, for no ordinary pictures would
have done for the face-off between shivery string bean Mrs. L., with her vision
of a cute and cuddly cat, and Purrless,
who’ll have none of it. “I can’t believe
how mean you are!” she protests when
he pre-empts her footstool, then her
bed. The drawings are done in colored
pencil and pen-and-ink, mainly in
shades of orange (for Purrless the tabby)
and blue (for “chilly” Mrs. L.); they’re
all over the page, and askew. It’s a look
with the nip of Segal’s prose.
The book with movable parts was, of
course, The Wheels on the Bus (1990),
low-tech hijinks in the scatty, helterskelter spirit of the Big and Little
Golden Books. The rushing vehicles
and teeming crowds of Tibor Gergely
come to mind—except that Zelinsky
has rendered his passengers and the
passing scenery in oils: sticky, shiny oils.
When “the wipers on the bus go swish
swish swish” and the rain falls in torrents, the surface turbulence calls up a
painting by de Kooning or Soutine.
It would be possible to write a paean
to the simplicity and cleverness of the
movable parts: the babies opening their
mouths to wail, the mothers wagging
their fingers, for instance. But when the
last pull-tab has broken, the book will
still be fun to look at, for the pictures
will still be full of energy and action.
Human interaction, too.
Swamp Angel (1994), Anne Isaacs’s
whirl with tall-tale Americana, gave
Zelinsky another go at historical reconstruction—this time, with a wink. The
From The Wheels on the Bus.
Not that he’s predictable, never
From Z Is for Moose.
Awful Ogre’s Awful Day. Illustration © 2001 by Paul O. Zelinsky.
that. The text inspires the response, and
Zelinsky’s originality is a match for the
author’s.
Let one character be a red ball named
Plastic; the second, a plush stingray;
the third, a stuffed buffalo. Such are
the Little Girl’s cherished toys in Emily
Jenkins’s Toys Go Out (2006)—and by
not having them be teddy bears or baby
dolls or anything else familiarly cuddle-
some, Jenkins stretches a child’s power
to imagine, to identify and sympathize.
But can these oddities be objects of
affection? Using a close focus, kneehigh perspectives, and tightly framed
compositions, Zelinsky achieves an
intimacy that makes the pictures as toycentric as the text. The soft black-andwhite pencil drawings, on stubby pages,
are velvety and enfolding. You sink into
them with Plastic and StingRay and
Lumphy.
Awful Ogre’s Awful Day (2001), on
the other hand, is Zelinsky on the
loose, capturing the wit and zest of Jack
Prelutsky’s suite of poems in pictures of
comic abandon. All shrewdly calculated, of course. Awful Ogre, almost
adorable despite his single centered
Z Is for Moose. Illustration © 2012 by Paul O. Zelinsky.
recognize the three as the work of a
single illustrator? Well, you might venture a guess. Agitation, elongation, and
headlong momentum are common to
all three, along with the inventiveness
and humor that have been Zelinsky
hallmarks from the start.
From Awful Ogre’s Awful Day.
eye, his bulbous nose, and potato head
(thanks to his big lopsided grin), stars
in a drama of size and space and detail.
Horrifying, disgusting detail.
Starting the day, Awful Ogre grooms
himself with onion-juice mouthwash
and dragon-blood rouge—and his face
in the mirror is in our face, filling the
page, with a teeny, tiny skunk inhabiting his nose. But when he proclaims
himself “Statuesque!” on top of a
mountain, all we see of him are his feet,
at the top of one page, and his dripping
nose hanging down from the top of the
page opposite. The infill is imagination,
Zelinsky’s and ours.
Call it drawing with a wink and a
nudge; or call it cartooning.
Kelly Bingham’s Z Is for Moose (2012)
is sheer madcappery. What is more
basic than the alphabet, more familiar
than an alphabet book, more explored
than the possibilities of the alpha-
bet book? Its very order invites us to
categorize, to proceed from an ABC of
animals to alphabets of almost everything imaginable.
Once, we also had true nonsense
alphabets: in verses by Edward Lear and
other early wits; in Sendak’s Alligators
All Around, more latterly. These artistillustrators have fun with, make fun of,
the very structure they’re exploiting.
And we, the reader or listener, laugh
to see how each expected letter brings
forth an unexpected line of text, and
with it a comical picture.
In Z Is for Moose, Bingham takes the
structure seriously; subverting it is her
story, the unimaginable her starting
point. Zelinsky, as her co-conspirator,
makes the book itself an orthodox
ABC, with plain borders, flat colors,
and an item per letter—only to have
Moose flout those conventions one after
another in his impatience to appear,
Different Drums
alphabetical order be hanged.
the Truck and Umbrella, Violin and
He’s a personality now—we laugh,
Whale, from his alterations. And Z? See
we gasp, we cringe—yet still a protothe title, read the story. Savor it to the
typical alphabet figure. He’s both real
last mischievous tailpiece.
and unreal.
Yes, there’s more than one tailpiece.
The pictorial climax, a great bit of
And why not? In Z Is for Moose nothing
vaudeville, has
goes according
Moose, denied
to custom—and
WANTED: Bright Ideas
even his proper
Zelinsky, accordplace in the alpha- Artist has pen, pencil, brush. Experienced in ingly, is in his
illustrating many kinds of books, in diverse
bet by Mouse,
element. Never
styles and techniques. Nothing is too tricky.
crayoning antlers
more so. What he
Let your challenge be our opportunity!
and feet on a Ring
might be inclined
and antlers and
to do next, from
tail on a Snake (to turn both into repone book to another, is an open invitaresentations of you-know-who)…and
tion to writers to think afresh. If you
Zebra, in desperation, trying to protect
can dream it, he can draw it. n
If you’re going to take on
the brave work of writing for
children and young adults,
it’s time to get serious.
Low-Residency Master of Fine Arts
in Writing for Children and Young Adults
Develop the process and craft of writing in a rigorous, engaged,
and supportive environment. Learn how to navigate the literary
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Work with faculty who are accomplished authors and master teachers:
Illustration by Jacqueline Briggs
Martin. Copyright 2003 by Linda
S. Wingerter. Reprinted by permission of Houghton Mifflin Harcourt.
Swati Avasthi
Marsha Wilson Chall
Kelly Easton
Liza Ketchum
Ron Koertge
Mary Logue
Jacqueline Briggs Martin
Claire Rudolf Murphy
Marilyn Nelson
Marsha Qualey
Jane Resh Thomas
Phyllis Root
Laura Ruby
Gary Schmidt
Eleanora Tate
Anne Ursu
Gene Yang
Horrible and Beautiful
by Deborah Stevenson
This ended up being a challenging assignment,
because much literature for youth is pretty weird when
coldly explained (kids travel through space and time
to duel a giant brain!), and we don’t think twice about
it. Saying that I adore Polly Horvath’s wonderful combination of bizarre, perhaps magical, realism and petulant domesticity, which I absolutely do, is just going to
elicit yawns: yeah, me and the award committees.
I’m therefore going with a book by an author
whose reputation has never really taken off in the
U.S. despite her significance in her home country of
Australia. Sonya Hartnett’s Sleeping Dogs (1995) is still
one of the most horrible, beautiful, shocking books
I’ve ever read, pushing not just the envelope but the entire mailbox of young adult
literature. The Willows, a hardscrabble, dysfunctional family that runs a trailer
park, are so isolated by their abusive patriarch’s cultish control that they have only
the vaguest, most unconvincing inklings, from their poorly transmitting TV and
from books, that their life isn’t the same as everybody else’s. Commencing with a
clearly incestuous dawn cuddle between a brother and sister and moving swiftly
into a lovingly detailed scene of sheep slaughter, the book marks its bitter territory
right up front. Yet this is no Neanderthal enclave, and there are heartbreaking flares
of possibility beyond the family’s strictured life: one son creates delicate nature
drawings; another longs to go to college; and the family prizes its monthly reading
assignment (currently, portentously enough, Crime and Punishment). Into this mix
comes a brash young artist intrigued by the family’s strangeness (and gratified by
how superior it makes him feel). The ways in which this does not, to put it mildly,
go well would have made Flannery O’Connor blanch and William Faulkner sober
up, and it is a savage, traumatic exploration of the way tragedy can lie like kindling
in people, just waiting for something to set it alight. n
Deborah Stevenson is the editor of The Bulletin of the Center for Children’s
Books and the director of the Center for Children’s Books at the Graduate
School of Library and Information Science at the University of Illinois at
Urbana–Champaign.
ClassifiedPLAY.indd 1
7/17/2012 11:28:49 AM
Jack (and Jill) Be Nimble:
An Interview with Mary Cash and Jason Low
by Roger Sutton
In between the few huge publishing houses and the many tiny ones lie the small independents. Mary Cash is vice president and editor in chief of Holiday House, founded by
Vernon Ives in 1935 and currently publishing sixty-plus new books a year; Jason Low
is the publisher of Lee & Low Books, co-founded by his father Tom Low and by Philip
Lee in 1991 and publishing approximately twenty books annually. I met with Mary and
Jason in New York soon after Hurricane Sandy, and after some discussion about what
the weather had wrought on all of the city’s publishers, we got down to talking about
what the current climate is like for the littler guys.
roger sutton: Are you conscious of
working as an independent publisher?
Photo: Mark Tuchman.
mary cash: Definitely. I used to work
for what was at the time the largest
publishing conglomerate in the world
(what is now Random House; then
it was Bantam Doubleday Dell), so
I think about it every single day. At
Holiday House we aren’t beholden to
either shareholders or owners who are
not accessible to us, or to a group of
executives that are charged with making
us all behave or making sure that we’re
profitable.
jason low: The independent thing
is pretty huge at Lee & Low, too. I’ve
been in the publishing business for fifteen years, but I haven’t had any other
type of experience—I’ve only known it
this way. I work with my brother and
my dad—it’s a small group of people,
and there’s no red tape. Essentially, we
get together, jointly make a decision,
and then go from there. It’s incredibly
challenging to run a small publishing
company. Publishing is going through
such changes—just to be in the business at this time is really interesting.
rs: Mary, at Bantam Doubleday Dell,
you would have had an elaborate
acquisition process, which I’m guessing
is only more elaborate there now, in
which several levels of approval would
be required…
…and paperwork that had to be
filed before you could even make an
offer. You had to do an entire research
project! I was so used to this method
mc:
Roger Sutton is editor in chief of The Horn Book, Inc.
Recent titles from Lee & Low: “Part of our mission is to develop new talent.”
that when I first got to Holiday House,
for the first book I wanted to acquire,
I went into John Briggs’s office, and I
had my reviews, my sales figures, all
about the author, how many awards
she’d won, all kinds of things that I’m
rambling on and on about, and John’s
looking more and more confused.
Finally he stopped me and said, “Mary,
what about the book?” That is a big, big
difference.
rs: Sales are just as important to small
publishers as big publishers, but I’m
guessing the scale is different.
For us, it’s just that everything’s
smaller. Print runs are smaller. Our
expectations are smaller. We’re very realistic. If we can cover the initial investment, everything else is gravy. It frees us
up to take a lot of risks, and we do. And
really, there are a lot of risks, in terms of
what we acquire. Because many of the
things that we go after are, for instance,
biographies of people you’ve never
heard of.
jl:
rs: Like that guy with the motor
cycles—Honda. I loved that book.
jl: Before we did Honda, I didn’t
even know there was such a person; I
just thought it was the name of a car
company. What I like about that book
is the universal theme of “follow your
dreams.” Honda wasn’t a good student;
he was terrible, in fact. But he was
good with his hands, with machinery.
I think that’s an important message to
give to kids. You have your different
things you’re really good at—it may
not be school, but hey, look at this guy.
Honda’s a great example of a project we
might go after.
rs: And how does that work at Lee &
Low? If an editor brings in a project,
what does he or she have to go through
in order to get that book approved for
publication?
jl: The owners are all in the room—we
all read everything that we’re going to
acquire. And then the editors, and that’s
it. We really just go by the notion that
nobody has a crystal ball in terms of
what’s going to be successful, so you’ve
got to go with your gut. If the people in
the room feel strongly about this manuscript, then we’re going to give it a shot.
mc: And so many things can change
rs: So do you feel then you have
between acquisition and publication.
more—I can’t remember what the latest
At a big publishing house, you have to
business-world buzzword is for “flexibiljump through hoops if you discover
ity.” Oh, yes, we must be “nimble.” You
that a thirty-two-page book needs to
can easily say, “Okay, this isn’t going to
be, say, a forty-eight-page book. And
be on spring 2014. We can put it on this
there’s always tension if you want to
list.” Or can you speed something up?
alter the specs, because it was not what
was approved of or signed off on. And
mc: We can do both. Although it’s
you’re signing up books two to five
easier to put things off than speed them
years before you pubup. In all of our decilish them, and so many
sions, as at Lee & Low,
It’s like the difference
things can change in
the decision-making
that time. Including
between a small sailboat process is completely
the technology.
streamlined. I always
and a gigantic ocean
tell people I can get
liner. We can turn
jl: We’ve seen a lot of
an answer right away,
on a dime.
change in technology.
whether it’s the answer
But I feel that it doesn’t
I want or not. It’s like
speed up the process of making books,
the difference between trying to turn
because the illustrations are still dealt
a small sailboat, which takes some
with by archaic media. We’re still dealthought and some skill, and trying to
ing with paintbrushes and paint, stuff
turn a gigantic ocean liner, where you’ve
people have been using for ages. And
got to get hundreds of people working
then you plan for a book to take six
together. We can turn on a dime.
months to a year, but then, you know,
illustrators—how often do they run
jl: We’ve had to do that many, many
into personal problems that basically
times over the years.
make that fall down?
rs: Do you find that being smaller and
rs: Like sleeping late.
more agile can work to your benefit
with authors and agents?
jl: Exactly. So more often than not I see
books become multi-year projects. It’s
mc: Definitely. For one thing, our connot uncommon. I think publishing’s a
tract is much easier to read. And agents
very odd industry in that way. Ecodo send us a lot of new people, too,
nomically it doesn’t make a lot of sense.
because it’s easier for us to take on new
It’s really based on this creative process
talent. We don’t have to come up with
that’s very old.
a whole marketing strategy to sell the
project to the publishing board.
jl: We work with a lot of new people,
too. Part of Lee & Low’s original
mission was to develop new talent,
so that was the idea from the get-go.
It lightens the negotiating of it—
sometimes authors or illustrators are
unagented, but if they are, they can’t
really ask for the moon, and we can’t
go there anyway. And large advances
are just not possible. Our big thing is
that our books stay in print a very long
time, because we don’t publish many,
and we can really pay attention to
every single book that we are putting
out. That’s something that agents like
to hear, and authors like to hear it,
too. They say, Well, I want to go with
these guys even though I’m not going
to get everything I asked for. And from
an owner’s point of view, I know how
much we’ve invested in this thing—
time, money, everybody’s effort—so
for me, I don’t want to see any books
go out of print. I have a personal as
well as monetary stake in this. I’ve got
a lot of skin in the game, you know?
So it definitely motivates us to try
really hard on everything.
rs: One way that your companies
think very differently from each other
is in terms of audience. Mary, Holiday
House is trying to reach traditional
groups—schools, libraries, bookstores,
general readers; basically the same
people that Random House and Macmillan are trying to reach. Jason, your
company has more of a mission: to
bring multicultural books of all kinds,
written by all kinds of people, to differ-
ent channels. Mary, how does it feel to
be the little fish in that big pond?
mc: It feels good. I have a huge amount
of independence, which I would
certainly not have at a larger publisher.
And we still have our niches that we fit
into.
rs:
Holiday books.
mc: Yes, and holidays that aren’t necessarily big holidays to other publishers,
like Groundhog Day and St. Patrick’s
Day. We’re very attuned to what’s happening in schools, so we also do wacky
grammar books and irreverent math
books that still teach math, and I think
these are areas that a larger publisher
would not be as interested in. Because
to pay for their overhead, they’ve got to
sell a lot more copies than we do.
rs: And that’s something that’s true of
both your companies—you really have
an investment in the school and library
market. Most of the Big Six publishers
don’t depend on it.
jl: We made that decision many years
ago. When I first entered the business,
we worked with both the trade and the
institutional market. But it seemed to
me that the institutional market was the
one that was embracing what we were
doing. At that point I asked the question, “What kind of publisher are we?”
We realized that, really, our strength
was institutional sales. We went wholehog and basically never turned back.
Holiday House books: “We’re very attuned to what’s happening in schools.”
rs: But, like Holiday House, it’s trade
books for the institutional market.
jl: Yes.
Once librarians and teachers
embrace a particular book or a particular author, it’s far more likely that it will
have a longer shelf life. Because when a
teacher starts to use it, when it’s part of
the program, or when he sees that this
book works well with a certain kind of
kid, then he hangs onto it. It becomes
part of his teaching.
mc:
jl: Yeah,
it gets referred to kids year
after year after year: the strength of the
backlist.
rs: Mary, what do you miss most about
big publishing? The deep pockets?
mc: The deep pockets are not available
all the time, to everyone. They’re only
available for specific kinds of things,
and they weren’t necessarily the sorts of
books that I was doing. I really can’t say
that I miss that. Daily life is just so different. I spend much more time editing
books. With a big corporation, commu-
nication is like this constant obstacle,
and you spend much of your time
doing presentations so that people in
the company know what you’re doing,
writing memos and reports, traveling
to sales conferences in other places,
having lots and lots of meetings. It’s so
much more pleasant to be working on
the books, with other editors, with the
art director, calling up authors, having
illustrators come in with their dummies. It’s a lot more fun than sitting in
a meeting.
jl: All that stuff takes time away from
what people are supposed to be doing.
It takes time to put together a presentation. It takes time to do anything,
really. If you were to run a timesheet on
the things you do every day, even the
simplest thing takes up your time.
rs: Jason, you’re an independent publishing baby. I mean, this is really all
that you’ve known. When you see your
opposite numbers at conferences, what
do you envy about their situations?
jl: I do like, when I’m at an ALA
conference or someplace, to see them
building their towers [of giveaway
ARCs].
mc: That’s the only thing I want, too. I
want their booths.
jl: We
just started a YA imprint—science fiction, fantasy, and mystery—and
we’ve published two books. We’re just
beginning to get those types of books,
so my pathetic towers look nothing like
their towers. I don’t have that many to
give away, so my tower’s a bitty tower.
We’ve just started asking: How are we
going to get this new imprint’s books
noticed on such a small scale? And I
guess the social media stuff is going to
come into play. But even that has its
limitations, because you’re tooting your
own horn to the people who are already
following you. You’ve got to go out and
try to get more people to subscribe, and
that ain’t easy.
rs: So you both contend with big
publishers. And now we have all these
new self-publishers, digital publishers,
or print-on-demand publishers. Do you
keep your eye on that side of things?
I would say not in a concerted way.
I pay some attention, but there’s just
so much out there. And I think that is
the real disadvantage to being a selfpublisher: there is so much out there.
How on earth are you going to get any
attention?
mc:
It’s like the whole scheme of what’s
being published anyway: there’s going
to be good and there’s going to be bad.
jl:
The only thing I take offense at is the
co-opting of the “indie” label. These
self-publishing guys are trying to take
it for themselves, and I’m not willing to
give it up to them.
Are you ever presented with a book
that you love, but you think is not right
for Holiday House, or not right for Lee
& Low?
rs:
mc: All the time. Certain formats we
can’t do—novelty books, board books.
Which creates a bit of a problem if you
have an artist who wants to branch
out into those areas. We don’t have
the right kind of distribution for those
sorts of things. We can’t get a book into
Walmart or discount drugstores, or the
kind of places where that sort of book
needs to sell.
rs: Why
couldn’t you get a book into
Walmart, say?
mc: First of all, Walmart doesn’t even
want to see your products if you don’t
have a critical mass. And big bestsellers. If you’re Random House, you go
in there and say, Oh, I have all these
cookbooks by Rachael Ray. Don’t you
want those? And then you can get some
other books in there as well. We don’t
publish on a mass market schedule,
either, where you’re really publishing
every month. We have two lists a year,
still. And that’s very old-school.
jl: We would probably have to avoid
something that required a very large
advance, so that would rule out a lot
of high-profile authors and illustrators.
We avoid things like, say, a book about
Martin Luther King, because how many
Martin Luther King books are already
out there? What new spin would we
bring to that? But we would do something about John Lewis, who was MLK’s
right-hand man.
jl: Well, that’s the thing. Everybody’s
driving and the headlights are out,
basically.
rs: Given you don’t have the big pockets, how do you keep the authors and
agents coming?
mc: I have to say, at Holiday House,
our authors have been really wonderful
House and Penguin are
and loyal to us, and I
getting together mean
think there are some
for your companies?
people who will always
We try to do right by
prefer to work with
everybody who works
mc: After a certain
the smaller publishers.
with us. That’s all
point of big, it doesn’t
Some will want a huge
we’re focused on.
matter to someone like
one, but just like we’re
us anymore. I don’t
not the answer for
think we’re going to be affected by the
everyone, the big publishers aren’t the
fact that they have merged, because we
answer for everyone, either.
aren’t competing with them in the same
ways that the other big publishers are.
jl: We’ve started a lot of careers, and
now and then those people end up
jl: We’re also not looking at the big
moving on, but I will say that a lot of
guys as competitors, really. They’re
them do come back, like Greg Chrisalmost in a different universe than we
tie, for instance. We published his first
are. We’re a small universe. We do our
book, and he does publish with many
own thing. We run the company as best
different houses, but he does come
we can. We try to do right by everyback, and he says it’s because he really
body who works with us, people worklikes working with us. We work with
ing for us, the authors, the illustrators,
Ted and Betsy Lewin as well. They’re
and that’s our world. That’s all we’re
Caldecott honorees and all that, and
focused on. Yes, we’re trying to predict
they publish with us now because a)
like everybody else what’s happenthey like the experience, but b) the stuff
ing with the digital stuff, but nobody
they want to do in some of their books,
knows that yet. I would have to say
the big houses aren’t interested in. It
we’re definitely playing more follower
doesn’t matter that they’re the Lewins.
than leader in that respect.
They like to do these travel books,
based on their adventures, and we think
mc: And the leaders, I don’t think know
they’re great, so we will do that for
where they’re going.
them. There are people who are loyal.
rs: What does the news that Random
Different Drums
mc: Yeah,
good or bad, I think it is a
very different experience.
rs: What is the next step for Holiday
House and for Lee & Low? How are
the next twenty years looking?
I think smaller publishers are
going to be, in a way, better equipped
going into the future because of our
small overheads. I don’t know that
print publishing—because it is going
to shrink—will be able to support the
mc:
jl: I think for us it’s just keep doing
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BOUNDARY-PUSHING FICTION
FOR TEENS AND THEIR SYMPATHIZERS
by Kristin Cashore
what we’re doing. We’ve found a way to
be profitable, doing the kind of books
that we do. Our mission has definitely
dictated that, but it has also grown and
shifted to encompass a lot of the things
that are coming up in today’s modern
world. People know to come to us for
multicultural books; now we also address
issues including sexuality, same-sex
parents, disabilities, autism. We brought
out a book about a deaf baseball player.
So I think that gives us even more places
to go, in terms of the stories we want to
tell. I’m happy with that. n
PROVOCATIVE, MIND-BLOWING
FICTION FOR DARING YA READERS
READING LEVEL: GRADE 7
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“So very annoying, this vol-
Top: Tales from Moominvalley. © 1962 by Tove Jansson. Bottom: Moominsummer Madness. © 1954 by Tove Jansson.
I think that if they didn’t have a good
experience—obviously we earn their
loyalty in some way in return.
cano,” says Moominmamma with
a sigh, flicking soot from her
(substantial) nose and thinking of
the nice new washing she’s hung
out. And it is annoying, as are the
associated earthquakes and the flood
wave that in Tove Jansson’s Moomin
summer Madness finally inundates
Moominvalley and leaves an entire
society of Moomins and other odd creatures bereft and homeless.
Strange, eerie, frightening things happen regularly in Moominvalley. Children
are separated from parents, innocents are thrown into jail, families lose their homes
to floods; the world is populated with malicious and unhappy people. But the
Moomins move calmly along, implicitly trusting in one another’s (questionable)
competence, feeding and comforting the malicious and unhappy, loving each other,
embracing the strange. Says Moominmamma while admiring her golden bracelet,
glimmering at the bottom of a pool, “We’ll
always keep our bangles in brown pond
water in the future. They’re so much more
beautiful that way.”
There is the most beautiful, and beautifully restrained, joy in this odd little book,
constantly about to tip over into something
too strange and frightening. Just when
the water is about to cover the last bit
Kristin Cashore’s latest book is Bitterblue (Dial).
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of roof on which sit the Moomins and
the outcasts they’ve collected, a theater
floats by. Everyone clambers aboard,
not knowing what a theater is, thinking
they’ve found their new home. What
a scary and delightful home it is! The
floor spins around like a carousel. Bright
colored lights illuminate the sitting room
at random intervals. Doors stand alone
with no rooms behind them, staircases
end in mid-air, and the open ceiling area
is filled with pictures you can pull down
and put back up again. And of course, the
entire structure floats along unpredictably,
pushed to and fro by the flood waves,
landing in a rowan forest, becoming unmoored again. “‘I like it here,’ said the
Mymble’s daughter. ‘It’s just as if nothing really mattered here.’”
There is a sense, in this book, that nothing really matters; that in this most terrifying world, there is no point in fear. The lost will be found, or they won’t; the
floodwaters will recede, or they won’t; the Misabel who is always overcome with
tearful histrionics will discover that all along, she’s been meant to be acting tragedies
on stage, and after that, she’ll be happy—or she won’t. Most importantly, within the
steady, stable, oddball Moomin family, there exists a paradox. “‘Flee!’ cried Moominmamma,” when the police come looking for her son. “She didn’t know what
her Moomintroll had done, but she was convinced that she approved of it.” The
paradox? There is no such thing as safety; in our (abundant) ignorance, we’ll make
mistakes, we’ll lose each other, we’ll never completely understand what’s happening;
yet we are safe here, you are safe here, because I love you and you are mine. n
Top: Moominland Midwinter. © 1957 by Tove Jansson. Bottom: Moominsummer Madness. © 1954 by Tove Jansson.
Different Drums
The Price of Truth
by Eugene Yelchin
My novel Breaking Stalin’s Nose is a book about a young boy’s
discovery of truth, his loss of idealism, and his subsequent decision
to walk away from the system he trusted. The boy’s transformation
mirrors my own. I also discovered truth about the system I trusted,
and I also walked away from it. But
unlike my fictional hero, I discovered
truth from the books I have read, and I
owe my life to their authors.
Reading books in a police state is
a very different activity from reading
books in a free society. In a police state,
reading books can place your life in
danger, but it can also encourage you
to resist the life predetermined for you
by the state. And that is exactly what
happened to me.
Where I came from—I was born,
raised, and educated in the former
Soviet Union—books were taken very
seriously. To quote the greatest Russian
poet of the last century, Osip Mandelstam, who perished in the Gulag on Sta-
lin’s orders, “Poetry in Russia is taken so
seriously, poets are killed for it.”
Books were certainly taken seriously
in my family. We lived in what was
then called Leningrad, now St. Petersburg, in a communal apartment where
several families besides ours shared
one kitchen, one toilet, and one coldwater tap. Five of us—my mother and
father, my grandmother, my brother
and I—lived in one small room. Hastily installed walls between the rooms
were thin, and they had ears. The dense
living quarters were ideal for spying.
Nobody talked about it, but everyone
knew that the secret police routinely
planted at least one informer per each
communal apartment. About twenty
Eugene Yelchin’s Breaking Stalin’s Nose was a 2012 Newbery Honor book. His
article is adapted from a speech he delivered to the Women’s National Book
Association on June 9, 2012, in Los Angeles, California.
Photo of The Gulag Archipelago from the Aleksandr Il’ich Ginzburg papers, Box 7/Folder 12, Hoover Institution Archives, Stanford University.
Photo courtesy of Eugene Yelchin.
strangers lived with my family
side by side, and which one of
them was the informer no one
could say.
At first, I had nothing to
worry about. My father was
a devoted Communist, a true
believer in Communist ideals.
Material possessions meant
nothing to him. He was ready
to give his life for the party
or, at the very least, to share
his last piece of bread with a
fellow Communist. However,
my father was quite possessive
about one thing, and it was his
library. The walls of our small
Eugene Yelchin’s father in Leningrad, 1948.
room were lined with books he
had collected. The books never
set of works by Pushkin, Tolstoy, or
left the room but were read and
Dostoyevsky; Chekhov or Turgenev or
re-read by the members of my family.
Gogol, one had to spend untold hours
On occasion, when we had visitors,
waiting in line, often at night in the
one of them would get lost in a book
most dreadful weather. In all likelihe or she couldn’t find elsewhere. No
hood, my father could have read an
Russian would consider such behavior
entire one of these books in the time it
improper.
took him to stand in line to subscribe
By Soviet standards, my father’s
to it. He was not an exception.
library was extravagant. Back then,
The hold that books had on us durbooks were hard to come by. One
ing the Soviet period is hard to comcould not walk into a bookstore
prehend today. I often wonder about
and choose a book one wanted to
it, pondering the reason (other than
buy unless, of course, it was a work
their short supply) why books were so
approved or devised by the Soviet proimportant and so valuable.
paganda. The real books, the classics,
Generally speaking, most readers
were available by government subscripexperience
moments when they come
tion only. Because of their exalted
upon a passage that precisely describes
status in Russia as well as abroad,
their innermost feelings, something
the classics could not be banned, but
they thought was unique only to them.
their availability was severely limited.
At times the discovery is subtle, slowly
In order to subscribe to a complete
penetrating the mind. At other times,
truth hits like a thunderbolt. In either
case, readers always know when the
author is telling the truth. In addition
to the many pleasures that reading a
good book offers, the discovery of truth
is the most essential. At its core, classic
Russian literature is humanistic literature. The search for truth in Russian
books is the search for what it means to
be human.
No wonder, then, that in a country
such as the Soviet Union, where for
seventy long years the government
consistently and skillfully concealed
truth from its people, reading classic
books acquired such enormous value.
What books did for me was to compel
me to create my own life from within
rather than submit to one from without. In other words, during the
breakdown of humanity that
occurred under Soviet Communism, reading humanistic
literature helped me to become
human.
My father, still a young
man, passed away in the early
1970s. His library was all he
left behind. Being a member
of the Communist party, he
would have found it difficult,
politically, to add to his library
a small number of underground
books that appeared in Leningrad at that time. These books
were not published by the
official Soviet presses but by
foreign publishers and smuggled into the country by foreign
diplomats or courageous tourists. Those
books were the works of the Russian authors that were banned by the
Soviet authorities. The books were very
small, no larger than a deck of cards,
and printed in minuscule typeface on
cigarette paper for easy concealment.
I first read Pasternak’s Doctor Zhivago,
Bulgakov’s Master and Margarita, and
dozens of other titles suppressed by the
government printed in that clandestine
fashion.
These books, and there were a very
small number of copies in circulation,
were passed on from one trusted person
to another for no more than a day or
two, and often for just a few hours. I
remember hurrying to read Solzhenitsyn’s One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich overnight, as I had to pass the tiny
The Gulag Archipelago, in miniature.
I remember how those blurry,
book to a friend the following morning.
wrinkled, loose sheets of paper felt in
At the same time, the collective body
my hands. We called them samizdat,
of banned works by Russian writers and
which literally means “self-publishing.”
poets was by then so enormous that
As a young man reading these preonly a small portion of it had leaked
cious works, I began to understand the
to the West. In fact, some of our best
unwritten rules of our lives, the hidden
literature was not even committed to
structures of power, and the way not
paper. Take poetry, for example. The
only our government but also we ourpoet Osip Mandelstam was relentlessly
selves, Soviet citizens
terrorized by the secret
and the readers of
police. He was arrested
Why did we risk
these works, contriband exiled twice and
our lives for something
uted to the uncanny
finally sentenced to a
as commonplace in free union of oppression
hard labor camp he
societies as reading?
and submission we
did not survive. Durcalled our home.
ing Mandelstam’s short
The thunderbolt of truth struck in
life, the Soviet censors refused to pubearnest when as a young man I finally
lish his poetry, and in police searches all
read The Gulag Archipelago by Solof his papers were routinely confiscated
zhenitsyn, a book that for the first time
and destroyed. At the height of the
revealed all the horrors of the Soviet
Stalinist purges of the 1930s, anything
system and paid tribute to millions of
committed to paper was dangerous. As
innocent people who lost their lives
a result, most of Mandelstam’s poetry
to Stalin. I have read and re-read that
had to be memorized and the paper
book since, and keep a nice Englishon which it was composed burnt. To
language edition in my library now.
preserve his poetry, his wife Nadezhda
But I could never experience again
(which incidentally means “hope” in
the shock, the horror, and the guilt I
Russian) committed to memory all of
felt poring over those thin, hurriedly
his poems. For over twenty years after
typewritten pages full of ink smears and
her husband’s death, Nadezhda kept
typos for the first time. While reading,
his poetry alive by repeating his poems
I listened attentively for any unusual
over and over to herself. Finally, after
sounds outside our door. There was
Stalin’s death, she dictated the poems to
always a chance that the person who
be written down, but still the censors
gave you the book was an informer.
would not permit their publication.
One never knew when the secret police
As a result, Mandelstam’s poetry was
would stop by unannounced.
copied by hand or on home typewritThe courage of writers like Solzheniters using carbon paper, and the copies
syn who were still living in the Soviet
secretly passed on to a handful of
Union but were published abroad, or
courageous readers.
were distributed through self-publishing, was awe-inspiring. In retrospect,
the courage of their readers was no less
so. If apprehended by the police with
any of the banned books in possession,
one would most certainly face a long
journey to the Siberian Gulag with a
slim chance of a safe return.
Why did we risk our lives for something as commonplace in free societies
as reading? The answer is simple. We
were looking for truth. We were looking for truth about our country and
our history. The crimes committed by
the Soviet government against its own
people were carried out in absolute
secrecy with most evidence classified
or destroyed. The generations of Soviet
people either still terrified by or responsible for the crimes kept silent.
I could not learn the truth about
those crimes from my father while he
was still alive. I could not learn it from
my friends. Truth was not taught at
my school or the university I attended.
Truth was not available in newspapers
or magazines, on radio or television. I
learned truth from the books I risked
my life to read. When I was in my
twenties, I understood quite clearly for
the first time that knowing what I came
to know from reading books and to
remain a Soviet citizen would implicate
me in the crimes of my government.
I did everything I could to leave my
country.
In a final twist of fate, I had to sell
my father’s library in order to pay for
the exit visa from the Soviet Union. A
fair price to pay for truth. n
Different Drums
New and Strange, Once
by Susan Marston
Reading:
It’s More Than Meets the Eye
by Elizabeth Burns
I
n a field that celebrates the works of Maurice Sendak, William Steig, and Jon Scieszka, and in which
anthropomorphic animals are regularly clothed only
from the waist up, “weird” is difficult to define.
In 1994, I had worked at Junior Library Guild for
three years, helping to decide whether the K–5 titles I
read seemed fresh simply because they were different
or if they were in fact good. When our company was
sold and longtime editorial director Marjorie Jones
retired, suddenly that assessment was up to me.
On a train to Connecticut to meet with my new supervisors, I read proofs of
Dinner at Magritte’s by Michael Garland. It is a fictional story about historical
figures, something I’d been taught to be skeptical of—and it wasn’t perfect. Both
the dialogue and paintings were a little stiff. But I loved how Garland turned the
ordinary happenings described in the text—a boy named Pierre and his neighbors
René and Georgette Magritte walk, play croquet, and dine together—into homages
to the surrealist’s dreamlike works. For example, as Pierre and friends walk through
the woods, their arms and legs weave in and out of the background (as in Magritte’s
Carte Blanche), and Magritte attends dinner in a bowler hat, with an apple suspended in front of his face (à la The Son of Man). I felt sure kids would enjoy these
weird images, but as a whole was the book better than all the ones I hadn’t yet seen
or read that season?
After the fact, when books that cause me anxiety during the decision-making process (kids in a televised fight to the death, bears that eat hat-stealing rabbits) have
become established on our list, their innovations become familiar, their existence
seems inevitable, and it’s hard to remember that once, like Dinner at Magritte’s, they
were new and strange. n
Susan Marston is editorial director of Junior Library Guild.
46
46 The
The Horn
Horn Book
Book Magazine
Magazine March/April
March/April 2013
2013
I work at a library that provides reading materials for the “print
disabled”—those people who cannot read a traditional print book
for a physical reason. It’s a network library of the National Library
Service for the Blind and Physically Handicapped (NLS), a division
of the Library of Congress, and the
program has been around for about
eighty years.
NLS, through its libraries, provides
books and magazines in audio and
braille. For audiobooks, NLS also furnishes a machine to play these books.
Originally that was a record player;
then a cassette player; now it is a “Digital Talking Book Machine” (DTBM).
Instead of a record or cassette, books
are stored on flashdrives. Both the
DTBM and cartridge that contains the
flashdrive are provided on loan at no
cost and are specifically designed for the
needs of the print-disabled community.
For example, both the DTBM and car-
tridge have both print and braille labels.
The DTBM even allows the listener
to adjust the pitch, speed, and volume
of audiobooks. Both audiobooks and
braille books can also be downloaded
for those who have access to the internet and (for downloadable web-braille)
the technology needed to access and
read these types of e-books.
When I tell people where I work, I
sometimes hear about how our library
made a positive impact on the life of
a grandparent or elderly neighbor.
Almost always, it’s someone who has
diminished vision for age-related reasons; occasionally it’s someone whose
arthritis has made it impossible to hold
Elizabeth Burns is a youth services consultant for a network library of the
National Library Service for the Blind and Physically Handicapped and hosts
the SLJ blog A Chair, A Fireplace & A Tea Cozy.
a book or turn the pages.
When I explain that I don’t work
with those adults but with the children
and teens who are members of our
library, many people seem taken aback,
as if it hadn’t occurred to them that
young people might also need alternate
forms of print. And this is why the
outreach component of my job is so
important. If people don’t know we
serve young print-disabled readers, it
makes it even harder (and sometimes
more expensive) for those readers to
get access to the same material their
peers are reading. To be honest, most
people don’t know about NLS and what
it offers. My outreach doesn’t involve
visiting local schools and community
centers and talking to kids and teens
about library services. Instead, I search
for the adults—teachers, school staff,
librarians, health care workers—who
don’t know we exist but who work with
children who are eligible for our services. If they have heard about us, they
either think we are just for people who
are blind (with the further mistaken
belief that blind means total vision loss)
or that we don’t offer anything different from a bookstore, public library, or
school library.
This misunderstanding is usually the
easiest to correct. I explain that, yes, we
have braille for braille readers, but we
also have resources for people with low
vision—the inability to read standard
print even with glasses. I also explain
that the definition of “physical handicap” includes not just people who are
unable to hold a book or turn the pages
but also, in some situations, people
with reading disabilities. Simple.
E
very now and then people will
point to the number of commercial
audiobooks and text-to-speech options
on computers and electronic devices
and ask me if braille is going away. My
usual response is, Are those reasons for
print to go away? The same benefits
of children learning how to read and
write standard print also apply to those
people who learn how to read and
write braille. Organizations such as the
National Federation of the Blind and
the American Foundation for the Blind
advocate for braille education. Places
like the American Printing House for
the Blind, National Braille Press, and
Seedlings sell braille books.
Personally, I think it’s a good idea for
a library to have at least a few braille
books around. Why? First, because it
is something that kids find interesting.
Second, it shows readers that braille is
just another way for people to read and
is as valid and real as print. Third, it’s a
way to show kids and teens how braille
really works, outside of a sample ABC
card. What type of book to get? Print/
braille picture books can be read by
all types of readers: I often have adult
braille readers ask for these titles to read
to their sighted children. (One caveat:
braille takes up a lot of shelf space!
One chapter book can comprise several
volumes.)
Less simple than explaining who
NLS serves is educating people about
why books for these readers can’t be
found in a bookstore or typical library.
The reason for that is copyright law
and the Chafee Amendment…and
I’m losing you already, right? What
is important here is that the Chafee
Amendment allows for the creation
of books in alternate formats (braille
and audiobooks) for people with print
disabilities (those who need alternate
formats to read the book) without the
permission of the copyright holder
(which means that the publishers and
authors don’t get paid).
Why make this exception for
people with print disabilities? Why can’t
they just read commercially produced
audiobooks? It’s true that there are
many more commercial unabridged
audiobooks published today than there
were when NLS was created in 1931,
or when the Chafee Amendment was
passed in 1996. But do the math. To
listen to the commercial audiobook,
you need a device to listen to the book
(an extra cost not incurred by a person
without print disabilities). Next, you
need to buy the audiobook version,
which costs much more than the hardcover, the paperback, or the e-book. Is
that fair to family budgets? Or to school
or public library budgets? The answer
is “no”—so the Chafee Amendment
allows NLS to create its own audiobooks. Sometimes there is overlap with
commercial audiobooks, but NLS also
produces types of books that are less
commonly published in audio form:
scholarly books, cookbooks, midlist fiction, series titles, books for all ages. (It
doesn’t record textbooks—for that, you
need to go to LearningAlly.) And since
not every publisher produces every one
of their books in audio format, NLS is
able to best serve its patrons by recording audiobooks that are of specific
interest to them. NLS also provides,
on loan, the DTBM, eliminating any
expense on the behalf of its patrons.
Here is an example of a book that
print-disabled readers can only get from
NLS: Trapped by Michael Northrop
(Scholastic, 2011). It’s published only
in hardcover, paperback, and e-book,
so those teens who need audio can’t
listen to it on a commercially produced
audiobook. But—yes, they can, because
NLS has recorded it and made it available.
So that’s the long explanation as
to why NLS has books that you won’t
find in the bookstore or a library. NLS
books are just for the print disabled
and only available through its network
of libraries; you cannot buy them, you
can only borrow them, and you can
only borrow them if you’re eligible. If
you want to find out what NLS has,
you can’t look at an online bookseller
or even at WorldCat; you have to go
to either the NLS online catalog or the
online catalog of your state’s network
library.
See the problem here? You can only
find the books at NLS if you know
about NLS, so those kids who may
need our services and who want that
book won’t find it until someone tells
them, their teachers, or their family
about our library. Thus, the outreach
portion of my job. And, too often,
people just don’t know. Yes, it gets a
bit frustrating when it is kids wanting
to read the book that all their friends
are reading, when they are reading it,
and without having to pay two or three
times the amount to do so.
NLS provides a valuable service
offering books in alternate formats at
no cost to the end user. There are other
sources for books; as I’ve mentioned,
unabridged commercial audiobooks
are available and can meet some of
the needs of print-disabled readers.
School and public libraries who have
these audiobooks are meeting the needs
of their readers who read in alternate
formats. Another possible option?
E-books. I’m a champion of e-books
and e-readers, though I realize they’re
hardly perfect and they can cost a lot
of money and, as librarians know,
library lending is still being worked out.
Still, even with these limitations, there
are significant possibilities offered by
e-books and e-readers that can make
these titles accessible to those who read
in alternate formats. For instance, some
Kindle books allow for text-to-speech.
This is a terrific feature for people who
need to read audiobooks—and it allows
them to do so at the identical price
point as everyone else buying those
e-books. This isn’t a catch-all solution; first, not every e-book includes it.
Second, not every publisher allows it.
Third, at this writing only upper-end
Resources for More Information
American Foundation for the Blind, afb.org
AFB’s goal is to remove barriers, create solutions, and expand possibilities so people with
vision loss can achieve their full potential.
American Printing House for the Blind, aph.org
A resource for educational, workplace, and independent living products and services for
people who are visually impaired.
Bookshare, bookshare.org
An accessible online library for people with print disabilities. At the moment, there is a
membership fee but it is free for U.S. students. Depending on the title, books are read using
DAISY, other screenreaders, or embossed braille.
Copyright Law Amendment, 1996, loc.gov/nls/reference/factsheets/copyright.html
Explains the Chafee Amendment and Copyright law as it applies to creating alternate reading formats for those who cannot read standard print.
LearningAlly (formerly Recording for the Blind and Dyslexic), learningally.org
Provides textbooks and audiobooks. Unlike NLS, there is a yearly membership charge.
National Braille Press, nbp.org
A nonprofit braille publisher, National Braille Press promotes literacy for blind children
Kindle devices have audio capability.
And if assistance is needed to get to that
book that allows text-to-speech, it is
not an ideal solution to the reader, who
loses all privacy. Imagine a thirteenyear-old (with low vision or maybe
dyslexia) always having to ask a parent
to buy a book and then again having
to ask for help to navigate through the
device to get to the book before being
able to read it! If some of this sounds a
bit familiar, it’s because organizations
such as the National Federation of the
Blind are very vocal in their advocacy
efforts to make e-reader devices fully
accessible. Quick message to publishers:
trust me, many people who are print
disabled would love to buy your e-books
just like everyone else, right when they
first come out! Text-to-speech increases
sales for that community (and perhaps
for your bottom lines).
You know what else increases
sales for the print-disabled community,
especially children and teens? The ability to tweak the book design in order
to make reading easier. Being able to
increase the type size of e-books can
turn any copy into a large-print version.
Even changing the font itself, to one
that is easier to read, could make a huge
difference for readers, or allowing for
change in contrast, such as white text
on a black background or red on green.
And remember the issue with text-tospeech and navigating to the book?
That is also true for large-print books:
through outreach programs and provides access to information by producing books and
informational resources in braille.
National Federation of the Blind, nfb.org
A membership organization of blind people in the United States. Encourages independence
through advocacy, education, research, technology, and programs.
The National Library Service for the Blind and Physically Handicapped, loc.gov/nls
The National Library Service for the Blind and Physically Handicapped (NLS), Library of
Congress, through a network of libraries, administers a free loan program for recorded and
braille books and magazines for residents of the United States who are unable to read or
use standard print materials because of visual or physical impairment.
Seedlings, seedlings.org
Braille books for children.
Thorndike Press, thorndike.gale.com
Commercial large-print books, including books for children and teens. NLS has additional
information on various large-print publishers at Reading Materials in Large Print: A Resource
Guide at loc.gov/nls/reference/circulars/largeprint.html.
WorldCat, worldcat.org
A network of library content and collections. NLS is not a member, so our collections are
not included.
File: “notes_halfvert.indd”
does the device allow magnification
of the menus, allowing a person to on
their own buy and find the book?
What about large-print books?
Yes, e-books and e-readers provide
some possibilities, but not all, and some
people just prefer paper. Right now,
there are very few places one can buy
them for children and teens. Thorndike
is the most well known large-print vendor that does offer kids’ books, but they
produce only one or two titles a month.
That’s roughly twenty-four titles a year,
out of the thousands of books being
published. In addition, the younger the
intended audience, the less likely the
book has been made into large print.
Large print is typically a sixteen-point
font or higher; picture books and early
chapter books are usually at least that
size. I constantly get requests for books
from kindergarten to about fifth grade
in large print, and it’s usually difficult
to find books that are made in special
large-print editions (including chapter
books) in this age range. Plus, places
like Thorndike have the books for only
a short time. Books aren’t automatically
made into large print by publishers. Just
as an author sells, say, the audiobook
rights to their work, so, too, do they sell
the large-print rights. Have those rights
been bought? Or exercised? And for
how long a time period? A book may
have been made into large print several
years ago, but those rights may have
expired.
Here’s an example: Tales of a Fourth
Grade Nothing by Judy Blume. Go
find it on Amazon in large print, and
you’ll discover that, at best, you’ll have
to spend over seventy dollars for it
used and over a hundred for it new. In
contrast to all this drama (and cost!)
over large print, e-books are a really
good way for print-disabled children to
be able to read the same book as their
friends.
What impresses me most about the
kids I work with is how many of them
love reading: they find an author, a
series, or a genre and want those books.
Some kids may start as reluctant readers
because they haven’t had the large print
or audiobooks they need, so of course
it’s had an impact on their reading.
Alternate formats, readily available
without significant cost, change all
that. What these kids want is to have
the exact same reading opportunities
as their friends and classmates. They
want to be able to encounter the text
one-on-one, without a teacher or parent
reading it to them. They want to find
and browse and select books on their
own, without asking someone for help.
Sometimes I can make that happen by
having the books here at my library;
other times, I check the catalogs of
other places that also operate under the
Chafee Amendment, such as Learning
Ally or Bookshare; or, I try to determine if an e-book copy exists.
H
ow can other people help to
create a world in which these kids have
the exact same access and ability to read
the books they want, how and when
they want? First, don’t treat audiobooks
as inferior to print, or equate listening
to them as a way of cheating. Don’t be
surprised to find out that kids—not
just older adults—may have low vision
and would benefit from reading large
print. Look at what you do through
the perspective of the child or teen who
has print disabilities: When creating
booklists and displays, putting together
reading assignments or classroom
libraries, find out what titles exist in
alternate formats and get them for your
readers. Mix up the print books with
audiobooks. When making copies of
those booklists, use at least a sixteenpoint font. Often in September, I’ll
send out ten, twenty, or thirty books
to a child’s school just to have them in
the school library or in the classroom
library so that the child can browse and
find things, just like every other student
in their school. Simply call your local
network library to get the same services
for your kids.
When looking at e-readers or other
devices or computers, examine the assistive technology they have or don’t have.
It’s not one size fits all; different solutions work for different kids, so involve
them in “test driving” the devices and
books.
Notes
from the
Horn
Book
NEWS ABOUT GOOD BOOKS
FOR CHILDREN AND TEENS
In every issue
• Roger’s 5-question interview
• The best new books for
children and young adults
• Comments from our editors
• Links and ideas for further
reading
• Great information to share
with teachers, parents, or
anyone else who cares about
great books
and it’s free!
R
eading is a wonderful thing:
whether it’s print, or braille, or audio;
whether it’s an electronic book or print.
Print disabilities are not a barrier to
reading: with thought and consideration, kids who read using alternate formats can have the same opportunities as
every other kid in their classroom. n
www.hbook.com
Sight Reading
Wit’s End:
they hold all the cards. They are the
responsible ones: the people who, for
good or ill, make things happen.
For that same reason, adults have also
furnished Ungerer with his preferred
targets for satire, an art form he turned
to early, in parallel with his career in
children’s books. Moving to New York
in 1956, he quickly established himself
in both realms, with Harper’s Ursula
Nordstrom acting as his champion and
mentor in the latter domain. Nordstrom, then in the sixteenth year of her
historic tenure as director of Harper’s
Department of Books for Boys and
Girls, recognized Ungerer’s virtuosity
as a draftsman and responded enthusiastically to the iconoclastic spirit that,
a few years earlier, had prompted a
disgusted headmaster to denounce him
The Art of Tomi Ungerer
show it. Ungerer was raised amid the Sturm und Drang of the Second
World War in Alsace, a multilingual border region to which Germany
and France have repeatedly laid claim over the centuries. Although
the worst aspects of the war largely
passed him and his family by, the
experience marked Ungerer for life,
and he grew up to create stories for
children about perennial outsiders
of one kind or another. The cast of
characters includes loners (Moon Man),
eccentrics (the Mellops books, The
Beast of Monsieur Racine), “sports” of
nature (Adelaide: The Flying Kangaroo),
displaced persons (Otto), and two-bit
criminals, some of whom turn out to
have hearts of gold (The Three Robbers),
but most of whom do not (Crictor).
If child protagonists in the conventional, picture-book sense are in short
supply in his books, it is doubtless a
reflection of the artist’s own childhood
imperative to grow up fast, master basic
survival skills, and move on. When the
globetrotting Mellops family of pigs
strikes oil or discovers sunken treasure,
the children help out, but worldly Mr.
Mellops quite properly takes the lead
in organizing and carrying out the
required scheme. Ungerer stories like
these have the aspect of an initiation
rite, serving up tantalizing foretastes
of the mysterious “afterlife” of adult
experience toward which childhood
inexorably tends. For this artist, grownups make the best characters because
Leonard S. Marcus is the author, most recently, of Listening for Madeleine: A
Portrait of Madeleine L’Engle in Many Voices (Farrar) and Show Me a Story!: Why
Picture Books Matter (Candlewick).
Crictor. © 1958 by Jean Thomas Ungerer.
Tomi Ungerer was born between worlds, and his picture books
The Mellops Strike Oil. © 2011 by Tomi Ungerer.
by Leonard S. Marcus
as a “willfully perverse and subversive
individualist.”
His first picture book, The Mellops
Go Flying (1957), immediately put him
on the map, garnering high praise from
librarian-critics in the year that Robert
McCloskey produced his second Caldecott Medal–winner, the idyllic Time of
Wonder. Ungerer clearly belonged to
a different, less tradition-bound—and
ultimately more combative—generation. The artists he hung out with in
Greenwich Village in those early days,
and regarded as his comrades in arms,
included Maurice Sendak, Shel Silverstein, and Jules Feiffer.
During the 1960s Ungerer, like
Feiffer, courted controversy with his
scathing critiques—presented in a
series of widely distributed posters—of
From Crictor.
The Beast of Monsieur Racine. © 1971 by Tomi Ungerer.
Crictor devoted to the numerals two
to eight, Ungerer depicted an octopus
with seven tentacles—one shy of the
usual number. He later claimed that he
deliberately made such “mistakes” on
occasion in order to give attentive children the pleasure of catching a grownup
in an error. In 1971, he upped the ante
when in The Beast of Monsieur Racine he
drew drops of blood on random figures
in the illustrations’ crowd scenes—presumably hoping once again to amuse
his adventurous young fans and tweak
the noses of their no-nonsense minders. Sadly but not all that surprisingly,
the medal-givers that year passed over
one of the most brilliantly witty picture
books of their time.
Ungerer draws with the effortless
grace of an Olympic skater turning
perfect figure eights, an excellence he
shares with one of his lifelong heroes,
New Yorker artist Saul Steinberg. As
The Beast of Monsieur Racine. © 1971 by Tomi Ungerer.
the Vietnam War. Like Silverstein, he
earned a certain notoriety for his excursions into erotic art. Neither of these
projects was likely to win him friends
on the Newbery–Caldecott committee. Ungerer was far less inclined than
Sendak to take time out to attend professional conferences and speak before
groups of librarians and teachers in a
politic effort to let them come to know
him. (In time, Ungerer would decide
the United States was not the place for
him and take up residence elsewhere:
in Canada, Ireland, and his native
Strasbourg, France. As an epigraph for
his memoir Tomi: A Childhood Under
the Nazis (1998), he quotes from a
schoolbook inscription that foretold
this future for himself: “I am and am
called Hans Ungerer / I shall be the
wanderer.”)
Nor did every critic get the joke
when, in the double-page spread in
From The Beast of Monsieur Racine.
with Steinberg, Ungerer’s blithely
sinuous pen-line has a characteristic
life of its own, regardless of the subject
it conjures forth. Not only that, but
some bacchanalian pleasure principle is
also at work, at a subliminal level that
can only be sensed: more than many
artists, Ungerer leaves the unmistakable
impression of having taken joy in the
act of making his mark.
During the 1950s, an illustrator at
the start of his career typically rendered
the art for his first few books in black
and white, or at most with the benefit
of a very limited allowance of additional color. Crictor is the best of the
early Ungerer books produced under
these constraints, which saved the publisher money and worry while testing
the apprentice artist’s ability to make
more from less. Ungerer’s sophisticated
brand of deadpan humor was already
well in place by then, and it still makes
for delightfully good comic fun to
page through the book noting each of
the disarmingly sly demonstrations by
which his boa constrictor protagonist
shows off his talents.
By the time Ungerer created The
Beast of Monsieur Racine, full color had
long since become the option of choice
for him, and once again he made the
most of the opportunity. His experience
as a poster artist clearly served him well
as he went about designing the story’s
ornate room interiors and outdoor
street scenes, which though jammed
with incident feel absolutely focused.
The story itself is a culmination of
sorts, a synthesis of signature Ungerer
elements. Here is Monsieur Racine, the
From The Beast of Monsieur Racine.
debonair and thoroughly idiosyncratic
adult, put on display for young readers
to marvel at. Here, too, is the mysterious beast, yet another in the long line
of Ungerer outliers. And here is the
artist’s ferociously arch and renegade
attitude toward everything, the pungent
suggestion that nothing in life is ever
quite what it seems. The climactic
incident—when the beast, by then the
talk of all France, is revealed to be a
pair of exceedingly clever youngsters in
costume—is a liberating moment on at
least two counts. For young readers, it
is always satisfying, of course, when a
venerable graybeard gets snookered by
one of their own. Less ordinary, though,
is the reaction Ungerer attributes to
Monsieur Racine. The fine French gent
is not merely unfazed to have thus been
fooled in front of all his peers but is also
visibly grateful for the experience. As a
scientist who looks upon his own cushy
life as a quixotic experiment, the droll
Monsieur pledges no allegiance except
to the truth, and accepts his own story’s
surprise ending as he would any other.
Nothing, it seems, could in fact ever
surprise him, and the same can be said
for Tomi Ungerer. n
Different Drums
Fi e l d Not e s
When Pigs Fly:
How Can a Fire Be Naughty?
by Elizabeth Law
bedtime books were two my mother stole from
the Unitarian Sunday School library, Martin
and Judy, volumes II and III, by Verna Hills
Bayley. I loved these books, about two friends
who lived next door to each other, because each
chapter contained a mildly dramatic story on
a subject I could relate to, and each one ended
with a lesson. (That’s right, a lesson—the same
thing that makes me leery when I see one in
a picture book manuscript today. But that’s
because I don’t like instruction that tries to
pass itself off as something else.) Judy and her
brother get distracted while popping corn in
the fireplace and forget to replace the screen, causing a fire. A tiny fire that burns
a hole in the rug, but it seems scary at first. Judy and her mother sensibly discuss,
“How can a fire be naughty? It has to burn the things that are in its way.” Another
time, Judy gets her tonsils out in a story that ends with Judy remembering her
father’s wise words, “Hospitals may not be much fun, but they are good when you
need them.” So satisfying!
When I came across these books again in my twenties, I rolled my eyes at their
all-white cast, their overstated prose style, and their obvious didacticism. But now
I recognize what they did well. There’s real plot in each story, yet they are short and
come to rewarding conclusions. They build a world and characters. Finally, each
tale, from the rained-out picnic to the nickel that gets lost under the porch, is one
a preschooler can relate to. And don’t many of our very best picture books today
explore or celebrate the tiny things that loom so large in a child’s universe? n
Elizabeth Law is a children’s book editor who has worked in publishing for more
than twenty-five years.
Martin and Judy: Volume Two. Rev. ed. Illustration by Lydia N. Breed. © 1959 by The Beacon Press.
When I was in nursery school, my favorite
The Improbable Dream of
Bookselling in a Digital Age
by Elizabeth Bluemle
“I
’ve always dreamed of opening a bookstore when I retire.” We
used to hear this all the time, a shy confession from book-loving
customers and tourists delighted to find an independent bookstore
tucked away in a small Vermont town. It was the words “when I
retire” that made us smile, this cozy
perception of bookselling as something
other than work, a magical land where
one got to read all day in a rocking
chair and occasionally shoo a cat off
one’s lap to rise in search of a book…
and perhaps ring up a customer. We
don’t hear that opening-a-bookstore
dream expressed that often anymore;
news of widespread bookstore closures
and the growing dominance of online
retailing and the rise of digital books
have all made people more aware of the
challenges of our field. But the fierce
passion for printed books, and a desire
for them in the hearts of our commu-
nities, is still alive and well. Will it be
enough to sustain a faltering industry?
It’s hard to say. When the Horn Book
invited me to write about the joys and
challenges of operating an independent
bookstore in the twenty-first century,
I was both honored and a bit wary: do
people really want to know the realities
of bookselling? Or do they want the
dream?
Unlike many booksellers, my partner
and I got into the business by accident.
We had moved to northern Vermont
from Manhattan in June 1996, seeking
green grass and fresher air and a less
hectic life; we were in our early thirties,
Elizabeth Bluemle is the co-owner of The Flying Pig Bookstore in Shelburne,
Vermont, and co-author of Publishers Weekly’s ShelfTalker blog with Josie Leavitt.
age three through high school. We had
both taught reading to literacy students.
We had entrepreneurial enthusiasm.
Above all, we had a knowledge and love
of books.
Once we made the decision, we acted
quickly. How hard could it be, really?
We weren’t attempting to be a nationally known entity; we just wanted to
be a neighborhood resource, a momand-pop store, something one step up
from a hobby. Back then, you see, we
were the ones who thought opening a
bookstore might be something one did
in near-retirement—a calm job, probably not likely to make us much money
(even then, profit margins were slim),
but a labor of love we hoped could
support us.
Ten weeks later, we opened our
doors. Ten weeks from idea to opening
day! I don’t advise this. I’m not sure it
Photos on pages 60–61: Elizabeth Bluemle.
full of dreams and a taste for adventure.
Vermont was beautiful, gay-friendly (an
early adopter of civil rights laws), and
small enough that everything seemed
possible.
The center of the little town of 3,500
where we settled held a post office,
a fire station, a preschool, and a tiny
market. There was also a café in a cute
little square building that used to be
the old post office. When a “for lease”
notice appeared on that building three
months into our Vermont sojourn, Josie
and I immediately began brainstorming: could we do something special
with that space? It took us about fifteen
minutes to decide that a bookstore—
specifically a children’s bookstore—was
the only endeavor we had any business
considering. We both had teaching
backgrounds, master’s degrees in education, and experience with kids from
was even possible, but it happened. We
opened with 850 square feet, 6,500
books, a purple front door, brightly
painted walls in a hue we called “Dr.
Seuss Blue,” and candy-striped awnings.
The Flying Pig was named in large part
for the improbability of our vision—a
seat-of-the-pants, fly-by-day operation
that we learned by doing. Sixteen years
later, we have thirty thousand books
and a retail space nearly twice as large,
four miles north of our original location. While our immediate surroundings have changed, it’s the landscape
of bookselling that is almost unrecognizable. When we opened, there were
several thousand independent bookstores in the U.S. Now, there are fewer
than two thousand—less than half.
And we are Chittenden County’s oldest
independent new-bookstore.
A good “indie” measures profit
not only in book sales but in what it
adds to the community. Its role goes far
beyond mere commerce. Something I
often want to ask customers, authors,
friends, and even family who routinely
give their business to online megacorporations is, Do those corporations bring authors and other cultural
opportunities to your communities,
igniting joy and wonder and possibility in young people? Do they give to
your fundraisers and bake sales, donate
books and money to your kids’ teams
and your favorite causes? Do they set
aside new titles just for you, because
they know you’ll love them? Help you
plan your curriculum using the best
possible titles to suit your needs? Hand
you a comforting read after your dog
dies? Spend a half hour with you to
find the perfect book for your niece in
the hospital? Do they employ people in
your town and contribute taxes to your
schools and roads and public services?
Customers who support local stores are
also supporting themselves and their
communities. It’s a beautiful symbiosis.
book author as well as a bookseller,
and for several uncomfortable months
I couldn’t sell my own book in paperback to the local kids, who were able
to buy it at their school book fair and
order it from a book club flyer. That
kind of thing makes customers think
we are trying to charge them more
money by carrying
only hardcovers.
The list of these
increasing encroachments into our livelihood is both legion
and depressing. It’s
hard not to sound
bitter about them,
but in truth, they are
not even the biggest
threats. Most troubling
is the consolidation
of power—decisions
about what to publish,
and what to stock
on shelves across the
nation—into fewer and fewer hands. A
book in a healthy bookselling landscape
full of independents would have had,
say, four thousand chances to catch the
eyes of booksellers who might champion it. Now, a single buyer at a chain
store might pass on a title, effectively
wiping out a couple thousand markets
in a single decision. Fewer publishers
and fewer markets can lead to a narrowing of cultural diversity and constricted
intellectual freedom. In 1996, bookselling was a challenge; in 2012, it’s a
fairy-tale glass mountain: worth trying
to scale, but ever so slippery.
A bookstore is one of the few neigh-
Photo: Liz Shayne.
When we opened, chain stores were
just beginning to move into neighborhoods and compete with indies; there
were no online book retailers and no
e-books. Publishers hadn’t yet created
websites where they sold books in direct
competition with bookstores, which
act as showrooms for their products. In
1996, readers appreciated the value of
diverse voices in bookselling, and seemed to
better understand the
grassroots role of independent booksellers
in discovering hidden
gems and talking them
up until they reached
a national audience
(and the attention of
the chains). When
we hosted authors for
events, spending time
and money promoting them and stocking and hand-selling their books, they
didn’t have websites that linked only to
Amazon, as many do now.
There are challenges that threaten to
undo us. Every time one of our regulars is given a Kindle (the only e-reader
that limits book purchases to a single
vendor), we feel the loss of those sales.
Indies sell e-books and e-readers, too,
but getting that word out is an uphill
battle. We also now compete with
online retailers and publishers for
school and library sales (the bread and
butter of children’s bookselling). And
publishers even offer books in editions
we retailers can’t sell; I’m a children’s
borhood businesses that serve every age
and interest. Like a market, a bookstore
nourishes the community—its food is
ideas and imagination and information. We’re part of our customers’ lives
from cradle to grave. It’s an honor
that people come to us, for books and
conversation, sometimes even just for
a friendly face, during the hardest and
the best times of their lives. We’ve had
a baby take his first steps at the Flying
Pig. We’ve hosted a wedding. We’ve
had the joy of being part of the lives of
hundreds of children, handing them
The Story of Ferdinand, The Trumpet of
the Swan, The Great Gilly Hopkins, The
Watsons Go to Birmingham—1963, The
Martian Chronicles, The Absolutely True
Diary of a Part-Time Indian, I Capture
the Castle, The Golden Compass, Code
Name Verity—hundreds of books,
some of which we know will change
their lives, or at least their minds and
hearts, forever. And nonfiction! There’s
an immense pleasure in handing a
child a book on a subject that lights
his or her mind on fire, from sports
to cheese-making to medieval history to the undersea world. We have
a simple motto we share with the kids
who think of themselves as “reluctant
readers”: it’s simply a matter of finding
the right book at the right time. And
that’s what we always aim to do. We’ve
seen our child customers grow up, go
off to college, and—in more than a few
instances—bring in their own children to start a lifelong love affair with
reading. That’s a valuable, lucky way to
spend a career.
One of my childhood touchstone
books was Norton Juster and Jules
Feiffer’s The Phantom Tollbooth. In
addition to the puns and playfulness,
the cleverness and heart, I was struck
by a passage at the end of the book that
knocked my ten-year-old socks off. It
was that marvelous moment when King
Azaz reveals the secret of Milo’s journey,
as the crowds applaud his rescue of the
Princesses Rhyme and Reason:
As the cheering continued, Rhyme leaned
forward and touched Milo gently on the
arm.
“They’re shouting for you,” she said
with a smile.
“But I could never have done it,” he
objected, “without everyone else’s help.”
“That may be true,” said Reason
gravely, “but you had the courage to try;
and what you can do is often simply a
matter of what you will do.”
“That’s why,” said Azaz, “there was
one very important thing about your
quest that we couldn’t discuss until you
returned.”
“I remember,” said Milo eagerly. “Tell
me now.”
“It was impossible,” said the king,
looking at the Mathemagician.
“Completely impossible,” said the
Mathemagician, looking at the king…
“But if we’d told you then, you might
not have gone—and, as you’ve discovered, so many things are possible just as
long as you don’t know they’re impossible.”
If someone told us now, “You’ve got
ten weeks to conceive, plan, and open
a bookstore that will need to weather
wild economic storms and the changing tides of its own industry,” well, we
would know that it’s impossible. And
we have the flying pig to prove it. n
Wh at M a k e s a G o o d … ?
What Makes a Good YA Coming-Out Novel?
by Claire Gross
Since John Donovan’s groundbreaking 1969 I’ll Get There. It Better
Be Worth the Trip, young adult novels featuring gay, lesbian, bisexual,
transgender, and questioning teens have come a long way. Once few
and far between, they have enjoyed a steady rise in numbers and
prominence, particularly over the
last decade, as prolific and acclaimed
queer* writers such as David Levithan
and Julie Anne Peters have entered the
scene. Queer teen lit is no longer purely
a domain of angst-filled secret affairs,
deadly accidents, and ambiguous implications. Similarly, it no longer needs to
be filtered through the eyes of a sympathetic straight character. While tales of
hapless or inspiring queer outcasts were
once commonly told from the point of
view of a straight observer (M. E. Kerr’s
Deliver Us from Evie; Peters’s Luna),
now queer protagonists are more likely
to be the stars of their own stories. Queer young adult novels don’t have to
be coming-out stories, but coming out
is a common theme in many of these
books, fitting well with the still-inprogress audience and the relative newness of the genre. But what makes such
a book more than just an issue novel?
What gives it that special combination
of universality and particularity that
allows it to reach a wide audience while
at the same time speaking to individual
readers on a deeply personal level?
What makes a coming-out novel good?
A good coming-out novel
is about more than just coming out.
The best ones weave their coming-out
stories into larger dramatic narratives.
*Throughout this column I use queer as a blanket term for people who are gay, lesbian,
transgendered, bisexual, or questioning. While historically a derogatory label, it has been
reclaimed as an inclusive term that acknowledges the limits of labels and acronyms in
describing the pantheon of sexual and gender identities. I use it here in deference to
that diversity.
Brent Hartinger’s Geography Club,
Alex Sanchez’s Rainbow trilogy, and
Lili Wilkinson’s Stonewall Honor Book
Pink all build their plots around the
complicated social politics and interpersonal dynamics of high school, with
coming out just one thread of potential
conflict among many. In Madeleine
George’s The Difference Between
You and Me, the breaking points in a
closeted lesbian relationship revolve
around prom: Emily is trying to make
her name in student government by
getting corporate sponsorship for it,
while Jesse is crusading against that
same company’s bid to move into town.
Hannah Moskowitz’s Gone, Gone, Gone
and Peter Cameron’s Someday This Pain
Will Be Useful to You both draw on the
painful post–9/11 urban landscape to
externalize their protagonists’ acute
sense of being unmoored and under
threat. In A Love Story Starring My
Dead Best Friend by Emily Horner, the
main character realizes she’s a lesbian
over the course of the transformative
cross-country bike trip that is her way
of dealing with her best friend’s death.
In this book (as in all of these titles),
the protagonist’s process of coming to
Claire Gross is the youth librarian at the Egleston branch of the Boston Public
Library and a former associate editor of The Horn Book Magazine.
terms with her identity, sharing it with
her friends and family, and embarking
on her first relationship is integral to
the book, but it is not all of the book;
her life’s borders aren’t defined by this
one aspect of her identity.
Coming-out stories don’t unfold in a
vacuum, and nor do teens’ own lives. The
best books integrate queer teens’ comingof-age stories into the rich and varied
spectrum of human experience.
A corollary of this rule is that a good
coming-out novel knows its characters
are more than their sexual or gender
identity. Queer kids are more than just
their designated letter of the alphabet,
and their stories—coming out and
otherwise—should reflect that. As the
protagonist of Cris Beam’s I Am J puts
it: “Being trans wasn’t special, and yet
it was. It was just good and bad and
interesting and…very human, like
anything else.” The plot of I Am J hinges
on coming-out issues, but J himself
struggles with issues of class and race as
well as gender, and his fraught family
dynamics and longing for a relationship
help to flesh out his character. Perry
Moore’s Hero, a Watchmen-esque superhero satire, creates neat narrative parallels
between its protagonist’s superpowers
and his gayness. The eponymous hero
must alternately hide and embrace both,
and his coming-out story is riddled with
superhero team training, epic battles,
and secret identities.
Speaking of secret identities, identity
in these novels isn’t simple. Take A. S.
King’s Ask the Passengers, whose
introverted protagonist is reluctant to
label herself before she’s had the chance
to sort through her identity in private.
When pressed by her parents to commit, one way or another, to an identity
they understand, she argues back that
“it’s just not as simple as you’re making
it…I don’t think every gay person can
be clearly defined and kept in a nifty
little box.” Wilkinson’s Pink plays with
the idea that for some teens, identity is
still in the process of triangulation. Protagonist Ava has a long-term girlfriend
and supportive parents and has identified as a lesbian for years, but when she
changes schools she uses her newfound
anonymity to dress more girly than
goth and explore the possibility that she
might be bi. The Difference Between You
and Me rotates narrative duties among
the three very different, but equally
compelling, teen girls that make up its
central love triangle. They are all queer,
but none of them are alike. Similarly
using a diverse cast of queer characters,
David Levithan’s semi-utopian Boy
Meets Boy and Sanchez’s soapy Rainbow trilogy affirm that there is a whole
rainbow of ways to be gay.
And because there is no one right
way to be (or write) gay, a good
coming-out novel isn’t prescriptive; it
recognizes that there are infinite paths
toward coming out, even if they all
share some basic similarities. Almost
all of the books named here use diverse
ensemble casts to assemble a collective narrative about coming out that
contains multitudes. Boy Meets Boy
may celebrate the easy outness of main
character Paul, but it also throws into
stark, sympathetic relief the pain felt by
his best friend Tony and ex-boyfriend
Kyle, whose coming-out paths are
much more fraught with danger and
doubt. The Difference Between You
and Me urges readers to admire Jesse’s
determination to be true to herself, but
it also paints a surprisingly sympathetic
portrait of closeted, perpetually on-edge
Emily, who could have easily been a
one-note villain.
These ensemble casts are also notable
because a good coming-out novel
celebrates the importance of friend-
ship and belonging. Coming out is
about community as much as romance.
The best books capture the exhilaration and relief of finding a place in
the world where you can be all of
yourself. Geography Club is one of the
earliest and most enduring examples
of this rule, with its plot hinging on
the formation of a secret school club
(its members assume no one else will
look into something that purports to be
about geography) where queer students
meet and share their experiences. Main
character Russel explains the importance of this safe space: “There’s a difference between being alone and being
lonely; I may not have been completely
alone in life, but I was definitely lonely.
My secret mission—four years in an
American high school—had been an
involuntary one, and now I desperately
wanted to be somewhere where I could
be honest about who I was and what
I wanted.” Even though the romance
between Russel and closeted, popular
Kevin ultimately proves untenable, the
book ends on a hopeful, happy note
because Russel has found a group of
friends who know and accept him, and
in turn he’s gained the courage to take a
stand on things like reaching out to the
school’s more obvious outsiders.
Laura Goode’s recent Sister Mischief
takes a similar approach, building plot
around the formation of a hip-hop
GSA in a small Midwestern town. In
this book, queerness is just one kind of
difference that unites outsiders of all
stripes in a town that values conformity.
And King’s Ask the Passengers includes
a joyful scene of Astrid patronizing a
gay club for the first time, in which an
older woman
smiles at me. It’s not a creepy smile or a
flirtatious smile. I can’t describe it. It’s like
a supportive smile. Friendly and happy
for me…I smile, and the biker lady
smiles back and blows her whistle and
then starts a victory lap around the bar.
All the people at the bar put out their
hands for high fives…and some duck
down and kiss her. It occurs to me, as I
stand on the edge of the dance floor out
of breath, that people here are nice to
each other.
setup when it makes Cass’s love interest
a former nemesis with whom she must
now work, delivering sparkling banter
and a snappily romantic love-hate relationship. Moskowitz’s Gone, Gone, Gone
and Moore’s Hero both feature budding
relationships that are breathless and
exhilarating, with a tense romanticism
that even Twilight fans should be able
to appreciate.
A good coming-out novel can be
a window or a mirror. According to
Rudine Sims Bishop,
That said, if there is a romance, it
should be electric. One reason that
Nancy Garden’s Annie on My Mind is
still read today, despite its dated social
landscape and unfashionably earnest
tone, is the timeless luminosity of
its love story. If a story hinges on a
romance, then it had better make readers believe in the power of that relationship. A Love Story Starring My Dead
Best Friend draws on a classic rom-com
Books are sometimes windows, offering
views of worlds that may be real or imagined, familiar or strange…When lighting
conditions are just right, however, a
window can also be a mirror. Literature
transforms human experience and reflects
it back to us, and in that reflection we
can see our own lives and experiences
as part of the larger human experience.
Reading, then, becomes a means of selfaffirmation, and readers often seek their
mirrors in books.
Good YA Coming-Out Novels
I Am J (Little, Brown, 2011) by Cris Beam
Someday This Pain Will Be Useful to You
(Foster/Farrar, 2007) by Peter Cameron
Boy Meets Boy (Knopf, 2003) by David
Levithan
Hero (Hyperion, 2007) by Perry Moore
The Difference Between You and Me (Viking,
2012) by Madeleine George
Gone, Gone, Gone (Simon Pulse, 2012) by
Hannah Moskowitz
Sister Mischief (Candlewick, 2011) by Laura
Goode
Rainbow trilogy: Rainbow Boys (Simon,
2001), Rainbow High (2003), and Rainbow
Road (2005) by Alex Sanchez
Geography Club (HarperTempest, 2003) by
Brent Hartinger
A Love Story Starring My Dead Best Friend
(Dial, 2010) by Emily Horner
Ask the Passengers (Little, Brown, 2012) by
A. S. King
Swimming in the Monsoon Sea (Tundra,
2005) by Shyam Selvadurai
Pink (HarperTeen, 2011) by Lili Wilkinson
other story, a good coming-out novel
Coming-out novels have an imporneeds some combination of beautiful
tant role as cultural educators, allowwriting, propulsive pacing, engaging some readers to walk in the shoes
ing plot, fully developed characters,
of those unlike them and develop
vivid setting, compelling theme, and
empathy and understanding. However,
emotional depth. Cameron’s Someday
these books’ role as mirrors is equally
This Pain Will Be Useful to You features
important; they may offer affirmation,
delicate, beautifully nuanced writing
guidance, and hope for young readers
and an understated but
who are challenged to
devastating portrait of
find those things outside
It’s still difficult
one disaffected teen’s
the world of words.
to
find
gay
or
lesbian
pain and striving. Shyam
The best books have
something to give any
protagonists starring Selvadurai’s Swimming in
reader, queer, straight,
in anything that’s not the Monsoon Sea poweror questioning; they
fully evokes a 1980s Sri
realistic fiction.
celebrate and sympathize
Lankan setting and uses
the protagonist’s involvewith the experiences of
ment in a production of Othello to draw
the readers their protagonists reflect,
readers’ attention to the Shakespearean
but their narrative power isn’t based
scale of the drama.
on insider knowledge. Beam’s I Am J is
And let’s not forget genre fiction. It’s
a great example of this quality: Beam
hardly fair to hand over a few fraught,
conveys eye-opening information about
issue-driven books to readers lookthe challenges and cruelties J faces as
ing for queer characters and leave the
he navigates daily life that provides an
Nancy Drews and Harry Potters and,
accessible, engaging education in trans
yes, even the Gossip Girls and Twilights
issues for readers learning about them
of the literary world to the domain of
for the first time. At the same time, the
level of detail and emotional intensity
straight characters. It’s still difficult
contained in the book make it more
to find gay or lesbian protagonists
than just a learning experience; it’s a
(and near impossible to find bisexual
story, one that reflects this one aspect
or transgender characters) starring in
of their lives in a way that other books
anything that’s not realistic fiction.
do not.
Romance and soapy drama are decently
Finally, a good coming-out novel
represented in the canon of coming-out
is, first and last, a good book. It’s not
stories, but mystery/suspense, historical
enough for a book to offer a respectful
fiction, fantasy, and sci-fi can be more
and realistic representation of queer life,
challenging to find. When mysteries or
or be the first to show a particular kind
thrillers feature queer characters, they
of character. Those things are imporoften appear as victims or villains (as
tant, but they should be a baseline,
in Kevin Brooks’s Black Rabbit Summer
not markers of rare quality. Like any
and Lauren Myracle’s Shine). Historical
Different Drums
fiction has made some inroads (see Pat
Lowery Collins’s Hidden Voices), but
given how small the perceived audience
is for historical fiction in general, the
relative dearth of representation here
isn’t surprising. Speculative fiction has
seen a boom of positively portrayed
queer supporting characters (though
with an unfortunate tendency toward
martyrdom) in books such as Patrick
Ness’s The Knife of Never Letting Go and
Sarah Crossan’s Breathe. Malinda Lo’s
Ash, Huntress, and Adaptation are not
precisely coming-out stories, but they
incorporate lesbian and bisexual protagonists seamlessly into their respective
fantastical universes. Hero remains the
standard for a coming-out story that is
equally successful as speculative fiction.
There is ground yet to travel.
Coming-out stories featuring teens of
color are still few and far between, and
representations of gay and lesbian teens
far outpace depictions of bisexual and
transgendered protagonists. Still, the
last few years have seen a number of
debut authors (including Laura Goode,
Emily Horner, Martin Wilson, Tonya
Cherie Hegamin, and Cris Beam)
whose first novels have featured queer
protagonists, and the future is bright.
Good coming-out novels have so much
to offer readers, from affirmation to
education to iconic characters—and
there’s much more to come. We’re getting there. It’ll be worth the trip. n
Love Letters
Summer Institute
July 25-28, 2013
Boston, Massachusetts
Some letters
may take the
whole of our
lifetime to
write.
- Thích Nhãt Hanh
For more information or to attend, contact the Center for the Study of Children’s Literature:
Phone: (617) 521-2540; E-mail: [email protected]
www.simmons.edu/gradstudies/programs/childrens-literature/
Something Wicked
by Christine Taylor-Butler
A freak tent, a dust witch, a quote from Macbeth, and
a villain named Mr. Dark. Such was the stuff of Something Wicked This Way Comes. I’d always been fascinated
by carnivals. They seemed to spring out of vacant parking lots overnight. So it made sense that I’d be drawn to
Ray Bradbury’s novel as a young girl.
In this tale of good versus evil, the mood is bleak.
Danger is foreshadowed by the arrival of a man selling
lightning rods covered in strange symbols. The bustle
of the small town ends abruptly once the clock strikes
nine. Posters announcing Cooger & Dark’s Pandemonium Shadow Show appear, hung by a creepy man
whistling Christmas carols in October. And when the
carnival finally arrives, the descriptions are ominous. The slithering train’s grieving
sounds, a wailing calliope, and the skeletal poles of the tent drew me into the weird
landscape and held me captive.
The young protagonists, Jim Nightshade and William Halloway, are relentlessly
pursued by Mr. Dark after witnessing the devastating consequences faced by townspeople whose deepest desires are fulfilled by carnival attractions: a carousel that
makes someone younger or older, a hall of mirrors that reveals an inner truth, and a
block of ice containing a beautiful woman. Jim falls victim to temptation but in the
end is saved by William and his father, Charles. Evil is conquered by a smile. The
carnival is destroyed by a warm embrace and laughter.
The book was odd, and not what my friends were reading, but I was hooked.
Every now and then, when the wind is particularly fierce and the forecast predicts
an impending storm, I still wonder what it would be like to sit astride a painted
carousel horse and turn back the clock for one last glimpse of youth. n
Christine Taylor-Butler is the author of more than sixty books for children,
including Sacred Mountain Everest (Lee & Low). She currently lives in Kansas
City, Missouri.
Different Drums
Border Crossing
C a l d e c ot t at 7 5
by Mitali Perkins
Prayer for a Child
and the Test of Time
by Kathleen T. Horning
At first glance, there’s absolutely no compelling
reason why a young immigrant from India would
choose Hans Brinker, or, The Silver Skates: A Story of
Life in Holland by Mary Mapes Dodge as a favorite
read.
And yet I did.
Writing in 1865, Dodge made blunders we still see
today when authors attempt to cross borders: 1) She
was overly reverential about the Dutch, portraying
them as collectively hardworking, thrifty, patriotic,
and sacrificial. 2) She introduced an otherwise fairly
useless foreign character (Ben Dobbs) through whose
eyes equally foreign readers were supposed to see this “exotic” culture. 3) She relied
exclusively on secondhand sources (John L. Motley’s The Rise of the Dutch Republic
and The History of the United Netherlands and conversations with one family of
immigrant Dutch neighbors in the United States), never visiting the Netherlands
until after the novel was published. 4) Thanks to these sources, half the book reads
like a sightseeing guide, with museums, art, and history described in excruciating
detail that threatens to choke the flow of the story.
And yet it doesn’t.
I loved the book and still do. Dodge wove together three storytelling strands: a
compelling Rip Van Winkle–esque mysterious plot in which two family’s lives are
intertwined; teen characters whose voices still ring true thanks to Dodge’s mastery
of humor and understanding of young romance and friendship; a sense of place so
strong I feel ice gliding under a pair of imaginary skates from the first page.
Plot, place, people: braid the three well and you’ve got a timeless story. I’m loaning the book to a Dutch friend to see if inauthenticity makes this novel completely
unreadable for her, because my joy in the story is a bit unsettling: if the storytelling
is good, are cultural blunders more forgivable or more dangerous? n
Mitali Perkins’s latest book is Bamboo People (Charlesbridge).
72
72 The
The Horn
Horn Book
Book Magazine
Magazine March/April
March/April 2013
2013
This is the second of a continuing series of articles celebrating the history of the Caldecott
Medal, which marks its seventy-fifth anniversary this year. Librarian and children’s literature
historian Kathleen T. Horning will look at one seminal but unheralded Caldecott book of
each decade—identifying trends and misconceptions, noting the changing nature of the
picture book, wrestling with issues and definitions. Here she examines the 1945 winner,
Prayer for a Child (Macmillan), as a product of its time—and beyond.
Winners of the Calde-
cott Medal have never
been intended to represent the best books of all
time, and yet that is how
they have often come
to be regarded, simply
because the winning titles
are forever promoted in
chronological listings on
bookmarks, posters, and
now websites. Caldecott
books also remain in print much longer
than they likely would have had a shiny
gold medal not been affixed to their
covers. There is nothing in the Medal’s
terms or criteria that
indicate the book should
have lasting appeal; however, the Caldecott gives
a book staying power,
whether warranted or
not. And many people
interpret that gold medal
as a stamp of approval for
all eternity.
Although each year’s
Caldecott committee
strives to select the most distinguished
illustration in a picture book for
children, whatever book they choose
is destined to be a product of its time,
A Horn Book reviewer, Kathleen T. Horning is the director of the Cooperative
Children’s Book Center, a library of the School of Education, University of Wisconsin–Madison. For more on Elizabeth Orton Jones, Rachel Field, and Prayer for
a Child, please visit hbook.com/Prayer-for-a-Child.
selected by people who are also products of their time. Books created and
selected during periods of crisis, when
sentiments are running high, are perhaps most in danger of appearing dated
to future generations, who lack the
context of sentiment. Does one need
to have lived through the era in which
the 1992 Los Angeles riots occurred in
order to fully appreciate David Diaz’s
1995 Caldecott winner, Smoky Night?
Will The Man Who Walked Between the
Towers, which earned the 2004 Caldecott Medal for Mordicai Gerstein, move
an audience for whom 9/11 is only an
event in history books? Certainly both
still seem fresh and relevant to most
readers today, but will they be under-
Dedication page.
stood and appreciated in fifty years?
There is no better example of a
Caldecott winner that was both a product of its time and a sentimental favorite than Elizabeth Orton Jones’s 1945
Caldecott Medal winner, Prayer for a
Child, published near the end of World
War II. To the contemporary eye, it
may appear saccharine and trite, even
cloyingly sweet. The text for Prayer for a
Child, written by Rachel Field, was first
published in December 1941 as “The
Baby’s Prayer” in the Sunday newspaper
magazine supplement This Week. It was
reprinted in The Horn Book Magazine
six months later as “Prayer for a Child”
in a memorial issue devoted to Rachel
Field, who had died suddenly in 1942
at forty-seven. She left behind a twoyear-old daughter, Hannah, for whom
the poem had been written. Field,
author of the 1930 Newbery Medal
winner, Hitty, Her First Hundred Years,
was a beloved figure in the children’s
book world, and the poem proved so
popular that Macmillan editor Doris
S. Patee suggested to Elizabeth Orton
Jones that she illustrate it.
Although best known at the time for
her popular novel Twig (Macmillan,
1942), Elizabeth Orton Jones was a
natural choice for the book Patee envisioned. Jones had illustrated a similar
book for Viking the year before, Small
Rain, which was a collection of prayers
Illustrations on pages 74–76, 78 from Prayer for a Child. Illustrations by Elizabeth Orton Jones. © 1944 by The Macmillan Company.
The little wooden figures of the angel orchestra in Prayer for a Child.
selected by her mother, Jessie Orton
Jones. In a biographical sketch of the
artist that appeared in Library Journal
just after Prayer for a Child won the
Caldecott, Patee noted that she chose
Elizabeth Orton Jones to illustrate the
book because she wanted it to be “dignified, reverent, and childlike.”
Jones took the assignment and
immersed herself in the work. Not
only did she face the mammoth task
of pleasing everyone in the children’s
book world with her portrayal of a
child known and loved by so many,
she also faced the challenge of having
to interpret a prayer in a way that was
visual and accessible to young children.
She approached it by focusing on
realistic details found in the ordinary
objects of daily life. All of the toys pictured in the book, including the wellworn wooden spoon, had been lent to
her to use as models by the children of
a librarian friend of hers, Annis Duff
(who later became a children’s book
editor in her own right). The little
wooden figures of the angel orchestra
that accompany the first letter of each
line were based on Christmas decorations Jones had purchased in France
years earlier. The hearth depicted in
the book was the artist’s own, including the portrait above the fireplace (her
grandmother as a child) and the Walter
Crane tiles around it. Even the picture
drawn by a child that we see tacked
above the little girl’s bed was based on
a picture drawn by a young student in
Jones’s sister’s class.
As particular as she was about objects
and settings, Jones claimed that she
never used real children as models. It’s
hard to believe, however, that she wasn’t
at least in part inspired by the poignant
photographs of two-year-old Hannah
that were printed in the Rachel Field
tribute issue of the Horn Book. Whether
she intended to or not, Jones captured
the likeness of her round, cherubic face
and blonde curls, right down to her
white hair ribbon.
Nearly all of the reviews at the time
of publication mentioned that the
text of the book had been written by
Rachel Field for her daughter. Mary
Gould Davies in The Saturday Review
described it as “Rachel Field’s prayer for
Hannah,” without any further explanation, apparently assuming that even
general readers would know who Hannah was. Following the mention of the
author’s daughter, most of the reviewers
went on to stress that the prayer was for
all children, regardless of race or creed
(never mind that Jesus crept into the
last line). The perceived universality of
the prayer, in fact, was important to
critics. Booklist’s uncredited reviewer
wrote that it would appeal to all,
“without regard to creed, because it is
filled with familiar things—bed, shoes,
friends, and parents—within every
child’s understanding.” This observation
was echoed in many of the reviews, and
was generally linked to Jones’s illustrations, which were said to capture the
“childlikeness” and “tenderness” of the
original prayer.
Anne T. Eaton, in her New York Times
review, took it even further: “Here is
childhood caught unawares, busy about
its own affairs, artless and unselfconscious. The pictures and the prayer
itself speak to children in a child’s own
language; older people will find this little
volume beautiful, moving and deeply
satisfying.” A similar observation was
made a little more than a decade later
by Esther Averill in her look back at the
past twenty years of Caldecott Medal
winners, “What Is a Picture Book?”
But, with hindsight, she was critical of
the same qualities critics in 1944 had
noted as commendable. Averill wrote:
“The reverent, mystical mood the prayer
might awaken in a young person is not
Photo from Bertha E. Mahony’s article “Of Rachel Field and Letters,” The Horn Book, July–August 1942, p. 241.
Left, photo of two-year-old Hannah Field; right, the little girl in Prayer for a Child, who, with her
blonde curls and cherubic face, resembles Hannah “right down to her white hair ribbon.”
sustained by drawings of such a realistic
nature. They appeal more to adults who
enjoy looking with sentimental eyes at
childhood scenes.”
Averill’s critique offers the first direct
charge of sentimentality I have found
in print; however, Frances Clarke Sayers
said much the same thing in 1945, but
with a positive spin. At the time, Sayers
was chair of ALA’s Children’s Library
Association (now ALSC) and as such
had also been a member of the (thencombined) Newbery–Caldecott committee that selected Prayer for a Child.
Her brief statement on behalf of the
committee, published in the ALA Bulletin, spoke only of the book from the
perspective of the “sentimental eyes” of
the adults. “The appeal of her drawing
lies in a softness of line which catches
something of the wistfulness and
tenderness that assail one who watches
children unobserved. She manages to
convey the pathos of a child observed
by adults. It is this quality that gives
her pictures of children such appeal for
many people.” In other words, the book
was a clear sentimental favorite—without apology.
If there was ever a year to choose
a Caldecott winner for sentimental
reasons, it was 1945. Library Journal’s
essay by Mildred C. Skinner about
the best picture books of 1944 (which
included Prayer for a Child ) opened
with these words: “In these troublous
times, when we are all eager to give our
children a feeling of security and a fair
share of happiness and fun, it is good to
know that new picture books are as gay
and lovely as though all the world were
happy.” Library Journal reviewed the
book a second time at the beginning of
1945: “It is a prayer, beautifully written
and beautifully illustrated, bespeaking the faith, love, hopes and the trust
of little children.” How comforting it
must have been for war-weary adults
to cast a “wistful” gaze at “childhood
caught unawares,” in a homey setting
“filled with familiar things.”
If we dwell on the book as portrait of
motherless Hannah, we miss the bigger
picture that Elizabeth Orton Jones was
striving for: the universal theme she saw
in it. Rachel Field’s original poem was
personal and specific. Jones paid tribute
to it in spirit with the specificity of
details, but she also extended it beyond
a single child, capitalizing on the lines
“Bless other children, far and near /
And keep them safe and free from fear.”
This line is accompanied by a window
into a multitude of hopeful young
faces—black, white, and brown; Asian,
Latino, and Native American. Each
child gazes back at the viewer with a
bright, open face. This same illustration
frames the book jacket, making it clear
from the outset that it is a prayer for all
children. Although none of the original
reviewers mentioned this picture
specifically, the frequent references to
Prayer for a Child as a book for children
of all “races and creeds” with “universal
appeal” were certainly inspired by it.
Jones spoke about the book’s universality in her Caldecott Medal acceptance speech, delivered in July of 1945.
“I should like every child in the world
to know that what he can see from the
top of his hill, when he looks down
Different Drums
Wiggiling
by Vaunda Micheaux Nelson
M
y mother introduced me and my siblings to the wonderful weirdness in Howard R. Garis’s Uncle Wiggily tales. Garis gave us old Uncle Wiggily Longears and
his adventures with Sammie and Susie Littletail, Johnnie and Billie Bushytail, the
Wibblewobbles, Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy, and others. His stories clearly are meant
for reading aloud, at which our mother excelled. Garis’s talky way of telling put him
right there at my bedside. “Now, if you’ll get nice and comfortable in your chair,
and don’t wiggle too much, I’ll begin. You see, when you wiggle, it gives me the
craw-craws, and I can’t think straight…One day, oh, I guess it was just before the
Fourth of July, or, maybe, around Decoration Day, Jackie and Peetie…”
Of Garis’s many books, Uncle Wiggily and Jackie and Peetie Bow Wow was my
favorite. The Bow Wow boys were always tripping and falling. I was a clumsy
child (and still have my moments), so those puppies were kindreds.
But it was Garis’s story endings that kindled my taste for the strange and
marvelous—
“A multitude of hopeful young faces” from Prayer for a Child.
and around, is different from what
can be seen from the top of anybody
else’s hill—that what he can see when
he looks straight up is exactly what
everybody else, looking straight up, can
see, too.”
“United Through Books” was the
theme of Children’s Book Week in
1944, and it was regarded as such an
important theme that it was selected
again in 1945. It was a sentiment that
permeated the children’s book world
at the time. And while it could have
easily been interpreted with the sort of
patriotic fervor we now associate with
World War II, children’s librarians, publishers, and book creators more often
approached it from a global perspective,
sent up like a prayer for all the world’s
children, longing to keep them all “safe
and free from fear.”
This longing is timeless. Adults will
always strive to protect children from
harsh realities. They will often turn to
books as a source of security in times of
crisis, for themselves as well as for the
children in their care. But a book that
offers comfort to one generation may
be regarded by the next as outdated,
or even sentimental. It will fall into
obscurity and be forgotten—unless it
wins the Caldecott Medal. It will be
destined to fail a test of time it was
never expected to withstand. n
If the radio doesn’t talk in its sleep and wake up the alarm clock before it’s time for breakfast, in the next story I’ll tell you about Jackie in a boot.
Now, if I’m not bitten by a grasshopper with pink wings, purple eyes and a gold ring in his
nose, riding in a plane, I’m going to tell you next about…
And…if a big, red ant doesn’t crawl upon our porch and carry away the hammock…
I’d lie in bed thinking, “What?…Wait…say that again?” conjuring the bizarre
images Garis described. I’d smile at the silliness, then settle under the covers, secure
in the knowledge that tomorrow would bring another story—for radios don’t talk
when they sleep, I’d never been bitten by a grasshopper, and ants have no use for
hammocks.
Now if the honey doesn’t skip tea time and leave Roger Sutton to dance with the
crumpet instead… n
Vaunda Micheaux Nelson’s latest book No Crystal Stair: A Documentary Novel
of the Life and Work of Lewis Michaux, Harlem Bookseller (Carolrhoda Lab), illustrated by R. Gregory Christie, was the winner of the 2012 Boston Globe–Horn
Book Award for fiction.
Simon & Schuster Proudly Congratulates
Our 2013 ALA Award Winners
Book Reviews
Creepy Carrots!
Written by Aaron Reynolds
Illustrated by Peter Brown
9781442402973 hc
9781442453098 eBook
Most of the books are recommended; all of them are subject to the qualifications
in the reviews. g indicates that the book was read in galley or page proof. The
publisher’s price is the suggested retail price and does not indicate a possible
discount to libraries. Grade levels are only suggestions; the individual child is the
real criterion. H indicates a book that the editors believe to be an outstanding
example of its genre, of books of this particular publishing season, or of the
author’s body of work. For a complete key to the review abbreviations as well as
for bios of our reviewers, please visit www.hbook.com/horn-book-magazine.
★ Caldecott Honor Book
★ ALA Notable Book
★ Printz Honor Book
★ Pura Belpré Author
Award
★ Stonewall Book Award
★ Best Fiction for Young
Adults, Top Ten
★ ALA Notable Book
Somebody, Please Tell Me Who I Am
By Harry Mazer and Peter Lerangis
9781416938958 hc
9781416938965 pb
9781442449909 eBook
★ Schneider Family Book
Award, Best Teen Book
★ Best Fiction for Young
Adults
A Tall Tale from the Far North
by Michael Bania; illus. by the author
Preschool, Primary Alaska Northwest 32 pp.
9/12 978-0-88240-886-6 $16.99
Gone, Gone, Gone
By Hannah Moskowitz
9781442453128 hc
9781442407534 pb
9781442407541 eBook
★ Stonewall Honor
Book
lasting contribution to young adult literature!
TEACH.SimonandSchuster.net
Kumak’s River:
★ Coretta Scott King
Illustrator Award
Tamora Pierce, winner of the Margaret
A. Edwards Award for significant and
Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing
Picture Books
I, Too, Am America
By Langston Hughes
Illustrated by Bryan Collier
9781442420083 hc
Kumak’s River. © 2012 by Michael Bania.
Aristotle and Dante Discover
the Secrets of the Universe
by Benjamin Alire Sáenz
9781442408920 hc
9781442408944 eBook
/SSEdLib
/SSEdLib
As Bania explains in a note, the annual
breakup of river ice in Alaska is cause
for celebration, even when a particular
year’s ice build-up and weather cause
rampant flooding. In this not-so-tall
tale, when “chunks of ice as big as
houses” jam on their passage to the
sea, Kumak and his neighbors perch
on their roofs in the warm spring air
while, hour by hour, the river water rises
around their houses. Children rejoice
in a school-free day, while Kumak fends
off ice with a pole. Still, the river “went
wherever it wanted to go. And it did
whatever it wanted to do,” sweeping
away dogs tethered in boats, oil drums,
fish nets, and toys until at last the jam
bursts, the river returns to its bed, and
people are free to seek and find (the
tall-tale part) their belongings and to
anticipate their summer relationship
with the life-sustaining stream—fishing, boating, and the vital annual trek
to summer camp. The cheery line and
watercolor vistas of smiling Iñupiat,
dogs, and gulls enjoying their adventure
amid pounding ice and deep blue water
are a fine match for the well-paced text.
For anyone in the lower forty-eight
who has suffered from extreme weather
and its consequences, the depiction of
people thriving in harmony with a natural environment that both challenges
and sustains them offers plenty of room
for discussion. joanna rudge long
HOne Gorilla:
A Counting Book
by Anthony Browne;
illus. by the author
Preschool Candlewick 32 pp.
2/13 978-0-7636-6352-0 $16.99
individuality. Every face reveals emotion
and a unique personality—some easily
read (open friendliness, shyness), others
complex and inward-looking, à la Mona
Lisa. Two final spreads underscore and
personalize the visual subtext. Browne
is seen in a self-portrait that mirrors
the gorilla on the first spread, the text
(“All primates. All one family. All my
family…”) leading to a final spread
(“and yours!”) filled to brimming with
head-and-shoulder views of humans.
Like everything that came before, at
first we see pattern, then endless variety.
lolly robinson
For Anthony Browne, a gorilla is never
just a gorilla. In this seemingly simple
counting book from one to ten (plus a
final coda), generous white space and
classic type treatment balance expertly
with large head-and-shoulders portraits
of primates: “1 gorilla / 2 orangutans /
3 chimpanzees” up to “10 lemurs.”
Browne’s watercolor technique is just
about perfect, combining realism and
HHave You Seen
exaggeration, mass and focus. He
moves from large wet strokes showMy New Blue Socks?
ing hair and fur (around the edges)
by Eve Bunting;
to a detailed drier brush (around the
illus. by Sergio Ruzzier
eyes). For some traditionally black and
Preschool, Primary Clarion 32 pp.
3/13 978-0-547-75267-9 $16.99
brown animals, he homes in on blue or
orange highlights and makes them more
Bunting and Ruzzier team up again
prominent. For others, like the smaller
(Tweak Tweak, rev. 5/11), this time
spider and colubus monkeys, he varies
with rhyme and rhythm and imagithe posture or silhouette. It’s about
native illustrations that will bring
taking something that is usually seen as
inevitable comparisons to Dr. Seuss. It’s
all the same and emphasizing each one’s
no wonder Duck’s new blue socks are
the illustrations, including underwear,
dog bones, and a painting ox. An accessible vocabulary and easy-to-sound-out
words make this a perfect book for the
newest reader, especially one with a
grand sense of humor. robin l. smith
Missing Mommy:
A Book About Bereavement
by Rebecca Cobb; illus. by the author
Preschool, Primary Holt 32 pp.
4/13 978-0-8050-9507-4 $16.99 g
Luckily, the title and subtitle of Cobb’s
first picture book provide adults with
all the information they need to decide
whether to share it with young children.
This is not a book that many adults will
get through dry-eyed, and Cobb does
an admirable job with a very difficult
subject. A young narrator explains that
his mother went away—he is not sure
where—and that he and his father and
sister are trying to manage without her.
The book begins with a dark, heavy
illustration of black umbrellas on a rainy
day. The only bright spot in the picture
is our narrator, hanging on tightly to his
father through what is visually a somber
Have You Seen My New Blue Socks? Illustration © 2013 by Sergio Ruzzier.
One Gorilla. Illustration by Anthony Browne. © 2012 by Brun Limited.
missing—a neatnik, he is not. Duck’s
living room is a mess: a belt is hanging
from an open window, a soccer ball rests
under a bench holding a cactus and the
remnants of a meal, a number of blobby
bits are growing on the floor. None of
his animal friends is able to help, and
Duck remains sad and frustrated until
at last he discovers the socks’ location.
The reader or lap listener will enjoy
pointing out the socks, as Ruzzier has
hidden them in plain sight. The best
way to experience this droll book is by
reading the jaunty rhyme aloud. “I will
ask my friend the fox. / ‘Have you seen
my new blue socks?’” Later, Mr. Ox
says, “Did you look inside your box? /
Did you ask your friend the fox? / I
may have seen your new blue socks— /
I saw some socks down on the rocks.”
It’s hard to resist, especially when the
cartoon illustrations are so captivating
in their absurdity. Duck’s expression is
all in the eyebrows—such angst over a
pair of socks has never been conveyed
so well. Blues, teals, and greens are
the background for the child-friendly,
offbeat details Ruzzier has planted in
maeve visser knoth: Many picture books
about grief keep their distance. How
did you decide to use a first-person
narration?
rebecca cobb: Because bereavement
is such a difficult subject to talk about,
I think as adults we sometimes use
ambiguous language that can be quite
confusing to children. Writing Missing
Mommy in the little boy’s voice allowed
me to be very clear and direct with the
words I used. I hoped it would help
other children to relate to him and also
perhaps help adults to understand
this very sad situation from a child’s
perspective.
through the house for his mother and
wonders why she didn’t take her clothes
when she went away. His father eventually explains that the boy’s mother has
died and cannot come back, but that
they can talk about their memories of
her. Cobb puts a tremendous amount
of emotion in deceptively simple facial
expressions and postures and gives her
readers small moments of visual humor
to balance the terrible weight of the
subject. The boy’s grief is palpable, but
the family’s survival is certain. The final
illustration of the boy watering tulips,
his mother’s sweater tucked under his
arm, provides a hopeful and moving
conclusion. maeve visser knoth
I Love You, Nose!
I Love You, Toes!
by Linda Davick; illus. by the author
Preschool Beach Lane/Simon 32 pp.
4/13 978-1-4424-6037-9 $17.99
e-book ed. 978-1-4424-6038-6 $12.99
“I love you, hair / upon my head, /
straight or curly, / brown or red.” From
hair to tummies to toes and everything
in between, Davick’s peppy ode to all
our parts successfully uses humor and
a little age-appropriate information to
deliver its energetic message about celebrating the bodies we’ve got. The infectious rhymes are well matched by clean,
friendly illustrations, which feature large
ice-cream-colored pages with wide-eyed,
smiling kids front and center. Both the
pictures’ lack of background and the
simple, bouncy text make this ideal for
group sharing—though young listeners
might find it hard to keep still. At times
Davick seems to be encouraging kids
to join in: “I love you, back— / you’re
out of sight! / Can almost hug you, /
but not quite” is accompanied by seven
kids sitting in a circle (around the text),
each desperately trying to hug his or
I Spy on the Farm
by Edward Gibbs; illus. by the author
Preschool Templar/Candlewick 32 pp.
2/13 978-0-7636-6431-2 $14.99
This innovative “I spy with my little
eye” book has no dust jacket, the boards
and binding are extra tough, and the
corners are slightly rounded, enticing preschoolers to reach out for it
and experiment. Once inside, each
two-spread sequence is geared toward
success without stress. First we see the
eye of a farm animal through a (fake)
hole on the left and a glimpse of its
body through a (real die-cut) hole on
the right, while the text provides three
clues. Above the die cut, “Something
yellow that begins with a D,” and
I Spy on the Farm. © 2012 by Edward Gibbs.
Rebecca Cobb on
Missing Mommy
I Love You, Nose! I Love You, Toes! © 2013 by Linda Davick.
Missing Mommy. © 2011 by Rebecca Cobb.
and confusing moment. From there
the book opens up with spacious white
pages and simple illustrations that look
as if they might have been drawn by a
child with crayon and marker. The narrator has a preschooler’s limited understanding of the world—he searches all
her own back. Private areas (nipples,
“the parts that poop, / the parts that
pee”) are lightheartedly (and discreetly)
included in the package. Davick ends
on a vaguely philosophical note: “Body,
you’re / the one for me. / If not for
you… / where would I be?” Not doing
the hokey-pokey, that’s for sure. kitty
flynn
File: “blog_halfhorz.indd”
It’s Monday, Mrs. Jolly Bones!
by Warren Hanson; illus. by Tricia Tusa
Preschool, Primary Beach Lane/Simon 32 pp.
3/13 978-1-4424-1229-3 $16.99
e-book ed. 978-1-4424-3621-3 $12.99
The Black Rabbit
Monday is laundry day, Tuesday is for
gardening, Wednesday is cleaning day,
and so on through the week. Industrious Mrs. Jolly Bones tackles each job
with gusto, her animal retinue eagerly
pitching in. And who wouldn’t want to
do housework with this cheerful crew?
Preschool, Primary Candlewick 40 pp.
1/13 978-0-7636-5714-7 $14.00
The Black Rabbit. © 2013 by Philippa Leathers.
After washing and drying the laundry,
Mrs. Jolly Bones irons and folds the
clothes “nice and neat,” then she “flings
them out the window… / so they
brighten up the street!” Hanson’s cheeky
rhyming text expertly delivers each day’s
punch line, and Tusa’s joyful watercolor
and ink illustrations help set the pace
and bring the story’s infectious silliness
to a whole new level. Take those animals, for example: a cow, a pig, a goat,
and other farm animals in a city apartment? They aren’t mentioned in the
text (nor is the urban setting), but they
fit right into the pictures’ merry chaos.
Mrs. Jolly Bones saves the weekend for
playing and resting…also known as
wrestling and yodeling “until midnight
with a chicken in your lap.” Mrs. Jolly
Bones lives up to her name; her irreverent approach to chores is one kids will
enthusiastically endorse (up for debate,
perhaps: “step into the toilet bowl and
give yourself a scrub”). kitty flynn
version 3: “still fresh”
HMy Father’s Arms Are a Boat
by Stein Erik Lunde; trans. from
the Norwegian by Kari Dickson;
illus. by Øyvind Torseter
Primary Enchanted Lion 32 pp.
2/13 978-1-59270-124-7 $15.95
identity throughout, while making the
naive rabbit an irresistible character. In
the end, the formidable shadow turns
out to be a useful companion, and the
little rabbit confidently takes him by the
hand. Entertaining endpapers contain
a map of the rabbit’s travels that show
him at both the beginning and end of
his journey. julie roach
Where Rebecca Cobb’s Missing Mommy,
reviewed on page 83, is all plain speaking and simple comfort about the death
of a mother, this book from Norway is
indirect and mysterious in its depiction
of a grieving father and son. A little boy
is having trouble sleeping, his unease
echoed in the cool, sparely awry picture
of his bedroom, his pillow providing
the only spot of color. His father takes
him into the similarly gloomy living
room to comfort him; the two discuss
the birds and the fox that live in the
surrounding woods until the boy, after
25 years of opinions. Still fresh.
by Philippa Leathers;
One bright day, a small, wide-eyed rabbit finds himself terrified by his shadow,
which he thinks is another rabbit, large
and menacing. “Rabbit was scared. ‘Go
away, Black Rabbit!’ he cried.” He tries
running from it, he tries hiding from it,
but to no avail. He finally manages to
lose the black rabbit in the deep, dark
wood, but things far worse than one’s
shadow lurk there. Done in digitally
combined watercolor and ink, the
illustrations are expressive and comic.
Along with the dramatic page turns,
the art cleverly plays up both the story’s
suspense and the joke of the shadow’s
It’s Monday, Mrs. Jolly Bones! Illustration © 2013 by Tricia Tusa.
below the hole, a word balloon appears
to come from the next page: “Quack,
quack!” Sure enough, a baby duck fills
the following spread and confirms with
another word balloon: “I’m a DUCKLING.” Gibbs’s expertly rendered
digital art combines scribbly, brightly
colored animals with more subdued
backgrounds in clean cutout shapes,
again helping the target audience by giving a calm visual on the first spread and
an energetic payoff when the animal
is revealed. Near the end of the book,
we learn that the animals are all spying
“YOU!” with their little eyes, which
makes it nice and neat. What elevates
this book from a well-executed novelty
into meta-land is the final spread, on
which a hole is cut all the way through
the back cover board: “What can you
spy with your little eye?” Whoa—it’s
the whole world. lolly robinson
Read
Roger
The Horn Book Editor’s
Rants and Raves
www.hbook.com/blogs/readroger/
by Aaron Meshon; illus. by the author
Preschool, Primary Atheneum 40 pp.
2/13 978-1-4424-4177-4 $15.99
e-book ed. 978-1-4424-4178-1 $12.99
Yakyu is Japanese for baseball, and the
lucky boy in this picture book gets to go
to ballgames in both the United States
and in Japan. Left-hand pages show
him at the stadium with his American
pop pop; on the right-hand pages his
Japanese ji ji (ojiichan means grandfather) takes him to a game at the dome.
Each spread showcases one difference
between the two locales: in America
the boy gets a giant foam hand, while
in Japan he gets a giant plastic horn; a
hot dog and peanuts in one place, soba
noodles and edamame in the other;
“In America, in the seventh inning, we
Everyone Can Learn to Ride a Bicycle. © 2013 by Chris Raschka.
My Father’s Arms Are a Boat. Illustration © by Øyvind Torseter.
Take Me Out to the Yakyu
Everyone Can Learn
to Ride a Bicycle
by Chris Raschka; illus. by the author
Preschool, Primary Schwartz & Wade/Random 32 pp.
4/13 978-0-375-87007-1 $16.99
Library ed. 978-0-375-97007-8 $19.99 g
Take Me Out to the Yakyu. © 2013 by Aaron Meshon.
recounting his grandmother’s belief that
“the red birds are dead people,” asks
his father if Mommy will ever wake
up again. Honest, but gently changing
the subject, the father replies, “No, not
where she is now. Should we go out and
look at the stars?” And, in a sequence
reminiscent of Charlotte Zolotow’s The
Summer Night, so they do, the monochromatic illustrations now seeming
enchanted rather than sad. When the
two return inside, the red glow of the
fire warms the page, the family, and
the reader, as the father reassures the
son that “everything will be all right.”
The quiet, intimate text and enigmatic
paper-collage and ink illustrations make
a world of their own that commends
interest beyond the therapeutic. roger
sutton
sing ‘Take Me Out to the Ball Game,’
and then we stretch! / In Japan…we
sing our team’s anthem, and then we let
balloons go!” In the rich-hued acrylic
illustrations, team colors (cool blues
for America and warm reds for Japan)
dominate the pages, helping young
readers keep track of each picture’s
location. The mostly mirror images on
the well-balanced pages set up a quiet
rhythm, thrillingly interrupted when
both hitters get a home run (“Crack! /
Kakiiin!”) and their baseballs cross paths
and go flying through the facing page.
Young fans intrigued by the game’s
cultural differences will easily see that
rooting for the home team—whether
it’s “Win! Win! Win!” or “Do your
best!”—is fun no matter where you are.
A glossary at the back lists additional
Japanese words, and an author’s note
explains more about baseball in Japan.
jennifer m. brabander
Though “everyone” may be a bit of an
exaggeration, it reflects the optimism
in this straightforward account of one
small, pigtailed learner’s perseverance
and triumph, a wobbly passage tracked
from selecting a bike (from amongst a
bewildering array) to a confident lastpage trajectory (“And now you’ll never
forget how”). A grandfatherly figure’s
encouragement makes up the secondperson text (“Find the courage to try it
again, again, and again…until by luck,
grace, and determination, you are riding”). With his loose watercolor images
at their most fluid, Raschka depicts
the adult leaning toward the child in
a visual balance that bespeaks, successively, protection, urging, assistance,
and commiseration (after a fall). Such
Raschka techniques as emotion-conveying color and composition-propelled
movement are in top form here, as he
not only deconstructs what’s needed,
literally, to acquire this particular skill
(which may be unique for its lessons on
the physics of motion and the rewards
of self-reliance) but also suggests the
complexity of achieving balance and
independence in any of life’s transitions.
joanna rudge long
Want to Be in a Band?
by Suzzy Roche; illus. by Giselle Potter
Primary Schwartz & Wade/Random 40 pp.
2/13 978-0-375-86879-5 $17.99
Library ed. 978-0-375-96879-2 $20.99
Doesn’t everyone want to be in a band?
Suzzy Roche, one of the trio of sisters
constituting the Roches, explains to
young readers how to go about making
a musical dream come true. Speaking directly to her audience (“Are you
one of those kids who likes to make
noise?”), she keeps readers’ attention
with her folksy, friendly voice and story.
The narrative describes her own story
Preschool Holt 32 pp.
3/13 978-0-8050-9197-7 $16.99 g
Instead of asking, as the children’s singing game does, “Who stole the cookie
from the cookie jar?” Shannon’s title
wonders how the cookies got there in
the first place. Text and distinctive folk
art tell a cookie’s backstory, focusing on
all the many hands involved in making
it. “Hands that feed and milk the cow. /
Churn the butter. Guide the plow.” The
rhyming text recognizes the people
involved in the baking, creation of
the cookie sheet, harvesting of the
sugar cane, all the way back to the
people who fed and clothed and
cared for all those more directly
involved in the process. Paschkis’s
bright and bold gouache illustrations show a diverse network of
characters doing their parts with
joy. The final wordless double-page
spread is a feast of color and of
people enjoying the cookies of their
labor; even the cow has a cookie
in her mouth. This simple package
provides a thought-provoking and
positive global concept of product
development that can be explored
on a variety of levels. A recipe for
sugar cookies is included at the
end. julie roach
HThe Dark
by Lemony Snicket;
illus. by Jon Klassen
Preschool, Primary Little, Brown 40 pp.
4/13 978-0-316-18748-0 $16.99
Who Put the Cookies in the Cookie Jar? Illustration © 2013 by Julie Paschkis.
(“First, you’ll need two interesting,
smart older sisters who can play guitars
and sing”), but the specifics are what
make this how-to book so readable:
once those sisters agree to start a band,
“beg them to let you be in it too, even
though you only know how to play
air guitar.” Potter’s illustrations suit
the quirky, homey feel of the text and
authentically re-create time periods
(starting in the 1960s) without making
by George Shannon;
illus. by Julie Paschkis
The Dark. Illustration © 2013 by Jon Klassen.
Who Put the Cookies
in the Cookie Jar?
Want to Be in a Band? Illustration © 2013 by Giselle Potter.
the events seem old-fashioned or dated.
Encouraging (about not giving up even
when your instrument is hard to learn),
honest (about stage fright), and realistic
(about disagreements among band
members), Roche’s story will entertain a
wide audience—not just those looking
to start a band. jennifer m. brabander
Leave it to Lemony Snicket to craft a
story personifying “the dark”—an idea
all too real and frightening for children
afraid of what lurks in the shadows. But
they will find a kindred spirit in Laszlo,
a scared boy living with the dark in a
big house. Though the dark occasionally
resides in the house’s hidden places and
outside every night, “mostly it spent
its time in the basement.” When the
comforting glow of Laszlo’s bedroom
nightlight goes out one night, the dark
comes to visit and speaks to Laszlo:
“I want to show you something.” So
Laszlo, with his trusty flashlight in
hand, follows the dark’s voice downstairs. Though the mood is ominous as
the dark lures Laszlo into its basement
room, a page of narration about the
dark’s function serves to break the tension before the bright, satisfying, and
funny resolution. With his command of
language, tone, and pacing, Snicket creates the perfect antidote to a universal
fear. Klassen’s spare gouache and digital
illustrations in a quiet black, brown,
and white palette (contrasted with
Laszlo’s light blue footy pajamas and
the yellow light bulb) are well suited
for a book about the unseen. Using
simple black lines and color contrasts to
provide atmosphere and depth, Klassen
captures the essence of Snicket’s story. If
you’re reading this one at night, be sure
to have your trusty flashlight handy—
just in case. cynthia k. ritter
Phoebe and Digger
by Tricia Springstubb;
illus. by Jeff Newman
Preschool Candlewick 32 pp.
3/13 978-0-7636-5281-4 $16.99
Young Phoebe scores a toy truck (yay!)
at the same time she acquires a baby
sister (boo!). Her new digger keeps
Phoebe company while Mama is preoccupied with the little one, but it also
relatable-to-new-big-siblings situations;
and the nonsaccharine ending (bullygirl hasn’t learned her lesson, but Digger
is on the case). elissa gershowitz
Bluebird
by Bob Staake; illus. by the author
Preschool, Primary Schwartz & Wade/Random 40 pp.
4/13 978-0-375-87037-8 $17.99
Library ed. 978-0-375-97038-2 $20.99
e-book ed. 978-0-375-98904-9 $10.99
Bluebird. © 2013 by Bob Staake.
From its elegant, innovative title
sequence to its bittersweet conclusion, this picture book is a feast for
the observant eye. Except for some
signage, it’s nearly wordless; in the title
spread, a variant of the spare jacket
art serves as a shadowed billboard in a
gray-toned cityscape facing a dedication
(to John James Audubon) against pure
sky blue, thus setting up the dialogue
between those tones that will parallel
and reinforce the whole story. In the
end, that hopeful blue will triumph,
but not until the protagonist—a
downcast loner, teased or ignored by his
classmates—has trudged Manhattan’s
Phoebe and Digger. Illustration © 2013 by Jeff Newman.
gets the desperate-for-attention-andtired-of-being-cooped-up big sis into
some scrapes around the house. Time to
go outside, decides Mom, and the three
family members (plus truck) head to the
park. Phoebe and Digger are having a
blast in the dirt until a scaredy-cat “crybaby boy” lands her in time-out. Having served her penance, Phoebe goes
back to play—but is herself stymied by
a bully girl who snatches Digger up.
Our young heroine tries to stand her
ground, but to no avail; just when she’s
feeling most isolated, Mama comes to
the rescue, which reminds Phoebe that,
in a family, it doesn’t have to be every
girl for herself. Mixed-media illustrations in subdued hues, with sketchlike
black lines and lots of white space,
enhance the straightforward text while
playing up the tale’s small moments
and its big emotions. The story is
notable for its sympathetic depictions
of a rambunctious girl(!) truck lover
(who is both the victim and perpetrator of teasing), her harried mother, and
the not-always-adorable little baby; its
geometric, gray streets, oblivious to possible friendship or fun until his spirits
are gradually lifted by the insistent bird
following him. Presently he’s sharing
crumbs and following it into Central
Park, where it leads him into play with
other children. Then dusk brings a
bullies’ ambush, conflict, sorrow—and
a dreamlike resurrection accompanied
by a many-colored flock. Staake’s
graphically distinguished art (rendered
in Photoshop) conveys extraordinary
depth of emotion. Bodies are small,
schematic; heads huge, round, eloquent.
Buildings—from delicate silhouette to
near-accurate representation—support
action that’s expertly paced via a variety
of frames and spreads until yielding to
the park’s natural curves and then to
that blue sky. A story of friendship, of
unfolding awareness, or of a more uni-
versal kind of love, this quietly beautiful
book invites repeated perusals. joanna
rudge long
Construction Kitties
by Judy Sue Goodwin Sturges;
illus. by Shari Halpern
Preschool Ottaviano/Holt 32 pp.
2/13 978-0-8050-9105-2 $16.99 g
Four indisputably cute overall-clad kitties don hard hats and hop into colorful
earthmovers to dig, move, push, and
smooth dirt at a construction site. At
midday they take a lunch break (“Tasty
sardines. / Cool milk”), and when the
job is done, they head back home,
purring and singing down the “long,
winding highway.” In case listeners
haven’t already guessed, the project is
revealed on the back endpapers: it’s
a playground, of course, now filled
with happy kittens. Halpern’s irresistible gouache illustrations do the heavy
lifting here, channeling Byron Barton’s
style (strong black lines, rich hues) but
with more subtlety of color. Sturges’s
spare, energetic narrative provides commentary on the action, and the pictures
make the most of the simply outlined
scenes. With its bold images and
straightforward text, Construction Kitties
would make a good storytime choice.
kitty flynn
Bunnies on Ice
by Johanna Wright;
Construction Kitties. Illustration © 2013 by Shari Halpern.
eight with my eyes closed.” The illustrations paint a far more realistic picture:
her fans are her parents and younger
sibling (plus a multitude of perched
birds), and the messy shape she inscribes
on the ice is hardly a figure eight. Back
at home, the narrator explains the
importance of a balanced diet (toasted
marshmallows) and keeping one’s muscles loose (playing in a bubble bath).
Bedtime brings a determination to “try
again tomorrow.” Throughout, Wright
maintains a consistently childlike point
of view, capturing the intensity of childhood obsession as well as her character’s
persistent optimism. The little skater
may be an unreliable narrator, but she is
totally sincere, believing wholeheartedly
in her assertions and having a wonderful time. The full-bleed color-saturated
illustrations, with their almost palpable
texture, will pull readers in to the bunny’s small world. And the cool palette—
whites and grays, mint greens and light
pinks—of the outside scenes makes the
warm, darker indoor scenes that much
more cozy. martha v. parravano
The William C. Morris YA Debut Award Winner
An ALA-YALSA Top Ten
Best Fiction for Young Adults
An ALA-ALSC Notable Children’s Book
Rachel Hartman
Seraphina
A Kirkus Reviews Best Book of 2012
A School Library Journal Best Book of 2012
A 2012 Booklist Books for Youth Editors’ Choice
A Library Journal Best Books of 2012: YA for Adults
School Library Journal The Horn Book
Booklist
The Bulletin
Publishers Weekly
VOYA
Kirkus Reviews
Ages 12 up • 978-0-375-86656-2
GLB: 978-0-375-96656-9
EL: 978-0-375-89658-3
Tamora Pierce
Preschool, Primary Porter/Roaring Brook 32 pp.
1/13 978-1-59643-404-2 $16.99
The 2013 Margaret A.
Edwards Award Winner
A William C. Morris
YA Debut Award Finalist
Laura Buzo
Bunnies on Ice. © 2013 by Johanna Wright.
All year, the narrator—a young
bunny with a penchant for pink
and polka dots—longs for iceskating time. While her family
goes for a swim, she glides a
doll along an inner-tube’s surface. While the others harvest
pumpkins and rake leaves,
she adds skates to a scarecrow’s
ensemble. Finally, it’s winter:
she heads for the now-frozen
pond, proclaiming that she is a
champion ice-skater and detailing
for the reader what it’s like to be one:
“I have a lot of fans”; “I can do a figure
Congratulations to Our ALA Award Winners!
Love and Other
Perishable Items
A Kirkus Reviews Best Book of 2012
Kirkus Reviews
Ages 14 up • 978-0-375-87000-2
GLB: 978-0-375-97000-9
EL: 978-0-375-98674-1
A Coretta Scott King
Illustrator Honor Book
Martin Luther King, Jr.;
illustrated by Kadir Nelson
I Have a Dream
A Kirkus Reviews Best Children’s Book of 2012
A School Library Journal Best Book of 2012
A Publishers Weekly Best Book of 2012
School Library Journal
Publishers Weekly
Kirkus Reviews
All Ages • 978-0-375-85887-1
GLB: 978-0-375-95887-8 • EL: 978-0-375-98772-4
Visit RHTeachersLibrarians.com, your online destination
for all the resources you need for your school or library!
Starring Jules (As Herself)
by Beth Ain; illus. by Anne Keenan Higgins
Primary, Intermediate Scholastic 148 pp.
3/13 978-0-545-44352-4 $14.99 g
e-book ed. 978-0-545-52047-8 $14.99
Jules, seven-year-old list maker, is in need of a replacement BFF. Her friendship with Charlotte “Stinkytown”
Pinkerton has been on the rocks ever since Charlotte
came back from vacation with two new best friends.
Enter Elinor from London, new kid in town, who is just
what Jules is hoping for—funny, smart, and ready for a
playdate. Will Jules mess it up with her blunt and judgmental manner? Jules is blessed with an interesting family who encourage her to follow her dreams. And why
not? With a chef for a father and an artist for a mother, Jules knows all about trusting
her instincts and going with her own sense of style. Her exuberant spirit leads her to a
casting director who is looking for a commercial spokesperson for mouthwash. Jules is
excited until she realizes the mouthwash is orange, a color that induces her to vomit.
Forced to seek out the help of her former pal, she learns that the friendship might not
be lost after all. The tidy ending will surprise no one, but readers will look forward to
seeing if Jules becomes a big star or not. Fans of Clementine and Judy Moody could
have a new buddy here. Most art not seen. robin l. smith
The Crimson Crown [Seven Realms]
by Cinda Williams Chima
Middle School, High School Hyperion 600 pp.
10/12 978-1-4231-4433-5 $18.99
In this concluding volume of the series, wizard, thief, and now bodyguard Han Allister longs to marry his charge Queen Raisa, but she’s committed to a political marriage to save her quarreling queendom. The “jinxflingers” hate the native Demonai
clans, someone is murdering wizards in the slums (and
Han is the prime suspect), and the Ardenine army hovers
on the border, waiting for an excuse to invade. Only by
playing the multiple schemers off one another to heal
the country can Han hope to win Raisa’s hand. Here
the promise of previous volumes is realized: the budding
love story springs to full flower and the hints captured
in thousand-year-old legends are borne out, while the
stakes are ratcheted up to perilous heights. Betrayal,
war, and the faith of lovers all come around to a glorious
conclusion as Chima weaves together her geopolitical,
magical, romantic, and even mythical themes on an epic
scale. anita l. burkam
Benjamin Bear in “Bright Ideas!” © 2013 by Philippe Coudray & RAW Junior, LLC.
Fiction
HBenjamin Bear in “Bright Ideas!”[TOON Books]
by Philippe Coudray; trans. from the French by Leigh Stein; illus. by the author
Primary Toon/Candlewick 32 pp.
3/13 978-1-935179-22-1 $12.95
Encapsulated in each of twenty-seven one-page comic-strip dramas, Benjamin
Bear’s world is one of challenges both philosophical and physical. Or should that be
physics-al? Plagued by fleas in “Spring Cleaning,” Benjamin ties himself to a tethered
rope, runs quickly to its end, and lets momentum do its job on the pests. As far
as the philosophical goes, does one gaze into a mirror out of vanity, as Benjamin’s
rabbit friend suggests in “Reflection,” or, as Benjamin replies, are we simply trying
to see ourselves as others do? New readers will be served by the balance of story
between speech bubbles and (needfully exact) illustrations; sometimes one provides
the payoff and sometimes the other, but comprehension of both together is always
required. Like Benjamin Bear in “Fuzzy Thinking” (rev. 11/11), this book rewards
what six-year-olds are already good at (scrutiny), encourages a new skill (reading),
and enlarges the imagination (heaven). roger sutton
The Different Girl
by Gordon Dahlquist
Middle School, High School Dutton 231 pp.
2/13 978-0-525-42597-7 $16.99 g
Four girls, alone on an island, cared for by Irene and
Robbert. Four girls all the same, and all doing “almost
always the exact thing as one another.” Identical except
for hair color—Isobel’s is lemon yellow, Caroline’s
brown, Eleanor’s black, and Veronika’s red—the girls are
orphans, knowing only that their parents were killed in
a plane crash. They have no memories of their parents,
but Dahlquist drops hints as to who—what—these girls
are: they must learn how to walk uphill and downhill,
up and down stairs, and on sand; they have buttons
Dodsworth in Tokyo
behind their ears that Irene pushes to turn them off into sleep at night. When
Veronika finds a strange girl washed up on the shore, their lives are changed. May
screams when she sees the others. “What are you?” she exclaims, and the existence
of May changes everything: “From now on we were us compared to her,” Veronika
notes. “May was showing us something about ourselves.” But who is the titular
different girl? Is it newcomer May, startled by the four girls she encounters? Is it
Veronika, who learns to see possibility and has a poet’s appreciation for how “the
stars rolled past above us, bright stitches on a deep dark blanket”? Or Caroline, who
acts selflessly when danger comes? Veronika’s simple, sometimes profound firstperson narration explores the nature of identity and what it means to be human in
an oddly touching story of a future world. dean schneider
by Tim Egan;
Dodsworth in Tokyo. © 2013 by Tim Egan.
Primary Houghton 48 pp.
4/13 978-0-547-87745-7 $14.99 g
Bink & Gollie:
Best Friends Forever
by Kate DiCamillo and Alison McGhee; illus. by Tony Fucile
Primary Candlewick 82 pp.
4/13 978-0-7636-3497-1 $15.99
Obsidian Mirror
by Catherine Fisher
Middle School Dial 376 pp.
4/13 978-0-8037-3969-7 $17.99 g
Bink & Gollie. Illustration © 2013 by Tony Fucile.
Gollie (Bink & Gollie, rev. 1/11; Bink & Gollie: Two for One, rev. 5/12) has always
had her imperious side, and it comes out in spades in the first of this book’s three
stories. “I have long suspected that royal blood flowed in my veins,” she swoons after
finding a photo of her great-aunt Natasha in fancy dress and a crown. Gollie dons
her own cape, crown, and scepter (and roller-skates, natch) and goes bragging all
over town. Commoner Bink is supportive when her pal finally comes back down
to earth. In the second tale, diminutive Bink sends away for a mail-order Stretcho-Matic kit (“Why should you be
shorter than your friends?” “Why
shouldn’t you be tall?”), assembles it
(sort of ), then hangs upside-down
from the ceiling waiting for gravity to
work its magic. Finally, the pals decide
to start a collection, hoping to amass
enough stuff to have their photo
included in Flicker’s Arcana of the
Extraordinary. Just as in the first two
series entries, the friends’ wildly different sensibilities—and their interests,
both shared and disparate—tumble
out through personality-filled dialogue
and digital illustrations of barely
contained chaos. Details from previous books (Bink’s preoccupation with
pancakes; both girls’ love of rollerskating) will reward the BFFs’ existing
fans while bringing new friends into
the fold. elissa gershowitz
On Dodsworth and the duck’s
first night in Tokyo, a waitress
in a sushi restaurant praises the
duck’s good behavior. “Nobody
had ever said that about the
duck before.” Maybe this is a
sign that the affable duo’s fifth
trip to one of the world’s great
cities will be atypically mishap free? The humor in Egan’s
globe-hopping early reader
series has always stemmed from the characterization of duck-as-id, and, happily, this
installment doesn’t break the pattern. After the duck’s first literal slip (he leans too
far over a bridge to see koi fish and falls in the pond), Dodsworth bribes him back
to civility with the promise of wagashi, a traditional dessert. As usual, droll, understated watercolors illustrate the pair’s tour of popular attractions. At the Museum of
the Imperial Collections, the duck imagines the ancient vases and bowls filled with
wagashi to keep himself on track. A plot thread involving a lost kendama, a ball-andcup toy, leads to the much-anticipated moment of mayhem and to the reminder
that our fickle feathered troublemaker has a good heart. Who knows where on earth
he and Dodsworth will end up next, but let’s hope we find out soon. christine m.
heppermann
Jake Wilde gets himself expelled from his posh private
school for one purpose: so he can be sent back to his
guardian Oberon Venn and accuse him of murdering his father, David. But when Jake arrives at Venn’s
decaying estate, Wintercombe Abbey, he learns that
David wasn’t murdered. David disappeared while he
and Venn were experimenting with a Victorian timemachine made of an obsidian mirror, and Venn is as
frantic as Jake to retrieve him. Nor is Venn alone in his
interest in the mirror and its time-travel powers: a ghost
from the past, a girl from the future, and even Summer, queen of the Shee (fairies),
all want to use the mirror for their own purposes. This plot-driven fantasy by the
author of Incarceron (rev. 1/10) compensates for its unremarkable prose style with
sheer copiousness—in wintry descriptions of Wintercombe Abbey and allusions to
multiple mythologies, classical and folkloric. Fisher’s sentences are short, propulsive,
and transparent, emphasizing the visual. The story is amply punctuated with narrowescape scenes and, in its time-travel plot, hints at thinking about how acts of the
present impinge on the future. The first in a projected trilogy. deirdre f. baker
HMaggot Moon
by Sally Gardner; illus. by Julian Crouch
Middle School, High School Candlewick 281 pp.
2/13 978-0-7636-6553-1 $16.99
e-book ed. 978-0-7636-6573-9 $16.99
Gardner (I, Coriander, rev. 8/05) here imagines an alternate, dystopic UK: a repressive 1950s regime that calls itself the Motherland, abhors “impurities,” is led by a
man with a bad haircut, and consigns undesirables to the derelict housing of Zone
Seven. That’s where fifteen-year-old Standish Treadwell
and his Gramps survive, thanks to Gramps’s ingenuity
at reusing and bartering. Out of this life of hard-won
subsistence and oppressive schooling, Standish tells the
story of his friendship with “supernova bright” Hector
next door—Hector, who realizes that dyslexic Standish
may not have a train-track mind, but has imagination “in
bucketloads.” When Hector and his parents disappear,
taken by the authorities, Standish sets out to rescue and
avenge him, and uncovers a grotesque government hoax.
Standish’s tale has the terse, energetic tension of poetry;
his phrases and sentences roll out with irony, tenderness,
horror, or love, but always vividly. “The place smelled
of over-boiled cabbage, cigarettes, and corruption,”
he notes of his school; or, “What he was doing there I
hadn’t a snowflake of an idea.” Even the chronology of Standish’s story depends on
a rearrangement of order, where present, past, and future stand side by side. Most
appealing of all, however, is Standish Treadwell himself: tender, incisive, brave,
and determined, he takes a stand and treads well. Frequent pencil illustrations that
function almost as a flipbook underscore the story’s subtext of the unending cycle of
violence and death. deirdre f. baker
Zebra Forest
by Adina Rishe Gewirtz
Intermediate, Middle School Candlewick 200 pp.
4/13 978-0-7636-6041-3 $15.99 g
e-book ed. 978-0-7636-6568-5 $15.99
In this novel set during the Iran hostage crisis, eleven-year-old Annie and her brother
Rew live with their grandmother near a state prison. Gran doesn’t leave home much,
sending Annie on errands and having her deal with the “truant lady” who checks up
on the kids. One night there is a prison break, and a desperate-seeming man forces
his way into the house. The kids are terrified, but Gran
is unmoved: the man is her son, Andrew Snow, the children’s father, whom they thought to be long dead. The
fugitive bars the doors, rips out the phone, and threatens
harm to anyone attempting escape. Rew, more furious
than scared, hatches a plan to alert the authorities, but
Annie hesitates: she has been following the hostage crisis
in the news, and tells herself she’s being cautious on her
brother and grandmother’s behalf. Also, despite herself,
she’s intrigued by her father, and this ambivalence is
what makes Gewirtz’s story so compelling. Snow is not
a nice guy: his prison conviction was for manslaughter,
and he’s straightforward about having committed the
crime. In addition, Annie and Rew’s mom abandoned
the family years before; Rew has a wicked temper; and
Gran’s care-taking leaves much to be desired. They all have redeeming qualities,
though, and their commonalities—such as their love of Treasure Island and the
woods behind their house—bring Annie, Rew, Gran, and Andrew together as they
navigate an ever-shifting notion of family. elissa gershowitz
Nowhere to Run
by Claire J. Griffin
Middle School, High School Namelos 111 pp.
3/13 978-1-60898-144-1 $18.95
Washington DC’s Georgia Avenue is “a street where you
could find God and the devil sitting right next to each
other, like they was old friends,” and it’s a hard place for
Calvin Williams to keep his promise to Daddy Lewis:
stay out of trouble and graduate from high school. “God
is looking out for you, baby,” Momma tells Calvin (after
whacking him on the head with a rolled-up magazine),
“but He can’t do it alone. You got to give Him all the
helps you can.” The problem is, Calvin is torn between
a lifelong friendship with Deej (who can be trouble),
and keeping his promises. He aims to graduate at the
end of the year and, before that, win the hundred-meter
dash in the District Championship. After that, no plans.
For now, though, it’s tough. His trust in Deej cost him a week-long suspension
from school and, later, his job and possibly his new girlfriend. And Norris P., Deej’s
criminal cousin, says he owns Calvin’s knees, that Calvin better lose that race…or
else. Griffin’s third-person narrative meticulously delineates street life in one African
American neighborhood and creates flesh-and-blood characters with dreams, faults,
and uncertainties. Calvin is a likable protagonist, and it’s how he will decide between
loyalty to his best friend and his own goals that provides the tension for this strong
story (unfortunately printed in tiny, hard-to-read type). dean schneider
Bramble and Maggie. Illustration © 2013 by Alison Friend.
Bramble and Maggie:
Give and Take
by Jessie Haas; illus. by Alison Friend
4/13 978-0-7636-5021-6 $14.99 g
Now that Maggie’s new horse, Bramble, has settled in (Bramble and Maggie, rev.
3/12), everyone has some adjusting to do. In four chapters, beginning readers will
get to know this pair better, along with their neighbors and a broader meaning of
the phrase give and take. Readers learn from the very first page, when Maggie suggests going for a ride, that Bramble in particular has strong opinions and dry wit:
“Bramble knew about rides. The rider sat in the saddle. The horse did all the hard
work.” For new readers gaining confidence, the simple sentences are peppered with
more challenging vocabulary, and they build in complexity over the course of the
book. The soft gouache illustrations delicately draw out and supplement the text’s
humor in both spot art and full spreads. While Bramble’s arrival brings plenty of
trouble, it also comes with many benefits only discovered through experiment and
compromise. As Bramble herself asserts in the first chapter, “Neither of them should
be boss all the time. There should be some give-and-take.” julie roach
Impostor
by Jill Hathaway
High School Balzer + Bray/HarperCollins 261 pp.
3/13 978-0-06-207798-1 $17.99 g
e-book ed. 978-0-06-207800-1 $9.99
In this sequel to Slide (rev. 3/12), the ability to mentally slip into the mind of
another person is still pretty undesirable. Sure, Vee finally got her guy, and her
classmates are no longer dropping like flies, but she’s got a lot of work yet to do in
sorting out how to use her power responsibly and
keep it from ruining her life. Presenting obstacles
to this plan are a long-lost aunt who has randomly
returned, a villain who mysteriously falls off a cliff
(and Vee witnesses it), and an unknown woman
who keeps showing up during key moments. Vee
is an appealing mix of brash certainty and absolute
cluelessness—it makes her worth rooting for if at
times slightly exasperating. The romance is dreamy
(and well executed), but the “sliding” ability itself
seems downplayed in this novel; a bit is lost in the
myriad subplots, although they do ultimately come
together nicely (and introduce a new slider who
could be a satisfying contrast to how Vee copes with
and uses her ability). Readers who don’t know the
earlier novel might be baffled at times, but returning
fans will…slide right in and find this a worthy sequel. april spisak
When We Wake
by Karen Healey
Middle School, High School Little, Brown 298 pp.
3/13 978-0-316-20076-9 $17.99 g
On an ordinary day in 2027, sixteen-year-old Australian Tegan Oglietti is on her
way to attend a climate change protest when she’s shot and killed by a sniper. She
wakes up to find that she’s been cryogenically frozen for a century, and everyone she
knows is long dead. Tegan is subject to intense military
supervision and media scrutiny (the press calls her the
“Living Dead Girl,” and various political and religious
groups all have opinions about her existence). But she
bravely adjusts to her new reality, attending school,
making friends, and learning new technology. When
she hears about the mysterious “Ark Project,” however, Tegan (with the help of new love interest Abdi)
resolves to discover what secrets the government is
keeping—and once she does, she finds herself in danger and on the run. This gripping dystopic novel creates a future that logically extends the problems facing
us today, such as human rights abuses, climate change,
and diminishing natural resources. It ingeniously links
this future to our time: for example, Tegan loves the
Beatles, and chapter titles are named after their songs.
Tegan is a passionate, stubborn protagonist determined to make a difference, and her
anger at humanity is palpable. “You are not the future I wanted!…I wanted you to
be better! Be better!” she screams at the indifferent people of the future—a warning
and a wake-up call for us, too. rachel l. smith
HPenny and Her Marble
by Kevin Henkes; illus. by the author
Never Say Die
by Will Hobbs
The jacket illustration signals a slight tonal change in this, Penny’s third outing
(Penny and Her Song, rev. 3/12; Penny and Her Doll, rev. 9/12). Her upbeat signature
color (rose) is replaced by a more subdued robin’s-egg blue; Penny looks downward
with a pensive expression. Here, she’s grappling with serious business: sins of commission and omission, accompanied by childlike guilt. That all three issues receive
thoughtful examination without
any heavy-handedness is to Henkes’s considerable credit. When outside walking her doll, Penny spies
a marble on Mrs. Godwin’s lawn.
“The marble seemed to say, ‘Take
me home.’” And Penny does. With
just a turn of her head and a movement of her eye, the illustrations
show that Penny clearly knows this
is something she shouldn’t do. She
hides her marble and dreams about
her furtive act with the imagined
consequences escalating during
the night. Unwilling to confess her
deed to her parents, Penny asks for
extra hugs, reinforcing the warmth
and support in this close-knit family. But Penny, by herself, finds resolution. Beyond his hallmarks of natural language,
illustrations that complement the text, and impeccable pacing, Henkes introduces
a new aid for young readers. Thoughts, imaginings, and dreams appear in unboxed
frames, while concrete action is shown within borders. That respect for the beginning reader’s emerging skills beautifully matches Henkes’s respect for Penny and this
common crisis of childhood. betty carter
Kevin Henkes on Penny and Her Marble
betty carter: Penny has a secret. Did you have a childhood secret you kept from
your parents?
kevin henkes: When I was about five, I took a plastic medallion from my neighbor Karen’s
crayon box. We were drawing together when I discovered the wondrous coin-like object.
It had a K on it. I wanted it badly. I slipped it into my pocket and took it home. I told no
one. The guilt nearly killed me. After a fitful night, I returned it secretly. Forty-some years
later, the experience gave me a book.
Intermediate, Middle School Harper/HarperCollins 212 pp.
2/13 978-0-06-170878-7 $16.99
Library ed. 978-0-06-170879-4 $17.89
e-book ed. 978-0-06-222384-5 $9.99
Penny and Her Marble. © 2013 by Kevin Henkes.
Primary Greenwillow 48 pp.
3/13 978-0-06-208203-9 $12.99
Library ed. 98-0-06-208204-6 $14.89
Set in the Yukon Territory hard by the Beaufort Sea,
Hobbs’s latest turbocharged wilderness survival story
has heavy weather, savage river waters, treacherous
trails, and, as chief antagonist, a “grolar bear.” Just as
exciting (and real) as the Turkish war dog of Hobbs’s
Go Big or Go Home (rev. 5/08), the polar bear–grizzly
hybrid attacks our hero Nick in the first chapter and
returns in the last for a spectacular confrontation. In
between, Nick and his adult half-brother Ryan travel by bush plane, raft (until it
smashes into a wall of ice), and foot through isolated Ivvavik National Park, where
photojournalist Ryan is on assignment to document how caribou numbers and
migration have been affected by climate change, which has also led to dangerous
(and exciting) thunderstorms, floods, and the grolar bear itself, the result of newly
overlapping habitats. While you might want half-Inuit Nick, who never met his
now-dead white explorer father, and Ryan, product of yet another of the father’s brief
relationships, to display some complexity to match their challenging environment,
they are mostly there as the reader’s stand-ins, allowing him (or her!) to know what
it’s like to face the bear. And the lightning. And the mosquitoes. Hobbs doesn’t resist
information-packing (“Nick, have you ever heard the theory that climate change
might be a factor in the decline of caribou herds in the Arctic?”), but he’s brisk about
it and knows how to get out of the…LOOK OUT! roger sutton
Hero on a Bicycle
by Shirley Hughes
Intermediate, Middle School Candlewick 213 pp.
4/13 978-0-7636-6037-6 $15.99 g
e-book ed. 978-0-7636-6359-9 $15.99
In her first novel, veteran picture-book creator Shirley
Hughes moves from the small dramas of contemporary
young-child life to a story of wartime survival/adventure in 1940s German-occupied Florence. The titular
hero is Paolo, a thirteen-year-old boy who misses his
father, away fighting with the partisans, and chafes at
the restrictions of his otherwise all-female household:
his mother, the English-born Rosemary; his older sister,
Constanza; and the housekeeper, Maria. While Paolo
finds some respite in his secret nightly bicycle rides through the tense city, he hopes
that they might also be his ticket of admission to the resistance activities of the partisans hidden in the hills around the city. With the narrative’s point of view moving
among Paolo, his mother, his sister, and, briefly, a Canadian P.O.W., some intimacy
is sacrificed, but setting and atmosphere are surely established, and the sense of danger is everywhere, allying us with the characters’ efforts to survive and subvert their
conquerors. roger sutton
The Twelve-Fingered Boy
[Twelve-Fingered Boy Trilogy]
by John Hornor Jacobs
High School Carolrhoda Lab 268 pp.
2/13 978-0-7613-9007-7 $17.95
e-book ed. 978-1-4677-0950-7 $12.95
“It’s a monster of a world” for fifteen-year-old Shreve
Cannon, incarcerated in Casimir Pulaski Juvenile
Detention Center for Boys: “not quite prison. Not
quite a Hilton.” Words are Shreve’s thing—how he
sells contraband candy, how he survives in a sometimes brutal world. But words fail him when he’s
assigned a new roommate, Jack Graves—“slight,
pale, and still,” with large brown eyes, a dead voice,
and twelve fingers, six on each hand. It turns out that Jack has special powers that
resulted in the hospitalization of five kids at his previous foster home. When the
mysterious Quincrux and his witchy counterpart Ilsa begin stalking Shreve and Jack,
Jack’s powers are called upon, forcing the boys to make an explosive escape. As the
fugitives wander from state to state, the narrative also meanders, but readers will
enjoy this trilogy debut, a wild and riveting tale full of allusions to fairy tales, movies,
and comic book heroes—including the witch, the wolf at the door, the Hulk, Jack
Sprat, Godzilla, Spiderman, and Hansel and Gretel, all contributing a mythic scale
to the whole affair. Polydactyl heroes are rare in children’s literature, and so are novels
like this that make the fantastical utterly believable. dean schneider
The Summer Prince
by Alaya Dawn Johnson
High School Levine/Scholastic 298 pp.
3/13 978-0-545-41779-2 $17.99
e-book ed. 978-0-545-52077-5 $17.99
Four hundred years after nuclear war devastates the
world, the Brazilian city of Palmares Três thrives as
an isolationist matriarchy. June, stepdaughter to one
of the powerful political leaders known as Aunties,
is determined to be an artist, and her daring, anonymous installations challenge the city’s restrictions on
technology, its corrupt infrastructure, its disregard for
the young (technology has allowed lifespans to stretch
multiple centuries), and its rigid class system. She finds
an ally in Enki, the charismatic new summer king
who will be an honored celebrity for a year, until he is sacrificed as part of a ritual
to choose the incoming queen. In precise prose Johnson evokes an utterly foreign
setting, complete with technologies that push at the limits of what it means to be
human, and the relationships that delineate the social landscape are intriguingly
unconventional and startling in their intensity. The story itself is thematically rich,
encompassing the political nature of art in a time of vast upheaval, the potential of
power to corrupt, the tension between tradition and innovation, and the toils and
rewards of underground creative expression. While its complexity and disorientingly
immersive sense of place may limit its appeal among teen readers, it stands as an
imaginative and thoroughly realized addition to the sci-fi genre. claire e. gross
The Madness Underneath [Shades of London]
by Maureen Johnson
Middle School, High School Putnam 279 pp.
2/13 978-0-399-25661-5 $17.99 g
Rory and her friends in the Shades, London’s answer
to the Ghostbusters, return and regroup after defeating a spectral Jack the Ripper copycat killer at her
boarding school in The Name of the Star (rev. 11/11).
While not as taut and engaging as Name, this second
installment in the series still offers promising developments, such as Rory’s new supernatural power, gained
from her near-death experience at the end of the last
book. She has become a human “terminus,” meaning
that when she touches a ghost, it disappears for good.
Hailing from a Louisiana family peppered with eccentric alleged mystics, Rory was,
from the beginning, game for belief in the spirit world. Now she hesitates when her
comrades try to persuade her to put her power to civic use, even as other suspicious
deaths crop up to suggest that the Ripper’s destruction may have simply unleashed
more mayhem. Fans of the first book should be sufficiently intrigued to stick with
the series and see where it goes next. christine m. heppermann
Flowers in the Sky
by Lynn Joseph
Middle School, High School HarperTeen 234 pp.
3/13 978-0-06-029794-7 $17.99
e-book ed. 978-0-06-223642-5 $9.99
Joseph’s The Color of My Words (rev. 9/00) portrayed
a gifted twelve-year-old living under an oppressive
Dominican Republic regime; here, an older girl must
leave the island. Nina’s Mami sends her to join her
brother Darrio in New York, imagining she’ll snag a
wealthy husband—a doctor, or a pro baseball player.
Unfortunately, Darrio’s reality is nothing like Mami’s
dreams. While people in Washington Heights, Nina
finds, are “Dominicanos like me,” at first she only
sees “frowns and heard cursing and felt a thickness of fear and regret permeating the
air.” She longs for the easy camaraderie and the lush flora back home. Darrio’s tiny
apartment is bleak, barely furnished; dealers and bullies roam the streets. Still, Nina
makes friends at school and in the neighborhood, especially with entrancing greeneyed Luis. Helping her raise orchids on their fire escape, Darrio seems more himself;
yet his mysterious transactions in a locked room down the hall trouble Nina, who—
comparing herself to Laura in The Glass Menagerie—concludes that “ignorance
wasn’t blissful.” With the help of some clear-sighted new friends, she weathers the
truth about her beloved brother and her demanding mother, too. This is an absorbing picture of a thoughtful young woman navigating a challenging new environment
with intelligence, moral courage, and grace. joanna rudge long
Freaks
by Kieran Larwood
Intermediate, Middle School Chicken House/Scholastic 250 pp.
3/13 978-0-545-47424-5 $16.99
e-book ed. 978-0-545-52062-1 $16.99
Performers in a Victorian freak show are the detective
heroes in Larwood’s first novel. Sheba, a hirsute girl
who can morph into wolf form, joins with a “monkey
boy,” a gigantic man, a Japanese ninja girl with cat’s
eyes, and Mama Rat (custodian of intelligent rodents)
to save London street urchins from a predatory group
of scientific inventors. The misfits travel throughout
the less savory areas of London as well as the Crystal Palace of the Great Exhibition in their efforts
to retrieve the lost children. Larwood emphasizes
solidarity, loyalty, and each character’s special gifts in
orchestrating his plot. Stock moments of suspense and
action are laced together with a thread of inventive
scatalogical humor (“holy pigeon turds on toast,”
Monkey Boy cries), and a better-than-usual evocation
of the Victorian setting. A concluding author’s note on mid-Victorian London is
informative and engaging; it tethers the fantasy elements of the plot to sober reality.
Despite some weak writing (the Crystal Palace is described as “a jaw-droppingly
amazing man-made structure” by the narrator), this has energy, color, and creative
verve. deirdre f. baker
P.K. Pinkerton and the Petrified Man [Western Mysteries]
by Caroline Lawrence; illus. by Richard Lawrence
Intermediate Putnam 310 pp.
4/13 978-0-399-25634-9 $16.99 g
Flush with cash after claiming his rightful ownership to a silver mine (The Case of
the Deadly Desperados, rev. 5/12), twelve-year-old P.K. Pinkerton opens a detective agency in the untamed Virginia City, Nevada Territory, of 1862. With his new
business in place, all he needs is a client wanting his services. And that client quickly
appears: the young and frightened former slave Martha,
who worked for the recently deceased Sally Simpson.
Martha witnessed Miss Sally’s murder and fears for her
own life; P.K. must find the killer. Told in flashback
(as P.K. is waiting in jail facing a murder charge), the
story unfolds quickly with numerous twists and turns
propelled by cliffhangers at the end of each chapter. In
addition, the narrative often summarizes events, which,
because of its many complications and characters, is
useful rather than tedious. Prior knowledge from the
first book is helpful but not critical. P.K. has several
personal challenges, particularly those stemming from
an Asperger’s-like syndrome that renders him unable to
read faces or recognize tone. But what isn’t hampered
is his most important skill: like his friend Sam Clemens, P.K. knows how to spin a
great yarn. betty carter
his classmate tearfully giving a report on orphans in Haiti to Alvin’s family gathered
around the new baby. Fans of Alvin have nothing to fear—he’s sure to come up with
more worries for future hilarious installments. jennifer m. brabander
Prodigy:
A Legend Novel
by Marie Lu
1/13 978-0-399-25676-9 $17.99
Having fled Los Angeles for the relative safety of Las
Vegas at the end of Legend (rev. 11/11), Day (the
Republic’s most notorious criminal) and June (its
erstwhile prodigy) decide to throw caution to the wind
and join forces with the rebel Patriots to assassinate
the newly ascended Elector Primo. The plan calls for
June to be captured and sent to the capital in Denver,
work her way back into the Elector’s good graces with
a penitent attitude and a supply of misinformation,
and lead him into an ambush where Day will publicly execute him, toppling the
government regime for good. But the situation changes when June discovers that,
unlike his deceased father, the new Elector is determined to implement wholesale
changes. The romance that developed in the first book is complicated here when
Day learns he is the object of unrequited love and June finds herself falling for the
Elector’s charms. Readers not hooked by the sociopolitical elements will still clamor
for the final volume to see whether their relationship can survive. In the wake of the
phenomenal success of the Hunger Games trilogy, a cottage industry of dystopian
novels has emerged; no author—save perhaps Veronica Roth with her Divergent
trilogy—provides a more satisfying readalike experience for fans interested in this
particular niche. jonathan hunt
Alvin Ho:
Allergic to Babies, Burglars, and Other Bumps in the Night
by Lenore Look; illus. by LeUyen Pham
Primary, Intermediate Schwartz & Wade/Random 185 pp.
4/13 978-0-375-87033-0 $15.99
Library ed. 978-0-375-97033-7 $18.99 g
e-book ed. 978-0-375-98889-9 $10.99
Odette’s Secrets
by Maryann Macdonald
Intermediate Bloomsbury 227 pp.
2/13 978-1-59990-750-5 $16.99
Alvin Ho. Illustration © 2013 by LeUyen Pham.
In this fifth book featuring seven-year-old
Alvin Ho and his wide-ranging fears (school,
camping, birthday parties, etc.), his current
anxieties include two that will resonate with
lots of kids: burglars (there’s been a rash of
break-ins in town) and babies (his mom is
expecting one). As always, though, there’s
one fear that only Alvin could come up with:
he thinks he’s pregnant, too. When he’s too
tired to get up for school, his mom (who
doesn’t know he’s been on burglar alert all
night), says, “Maybe you have a sympathetic
pregnancy!” After that, Alvin is certain he’s
“simply pathetic pregnant,” and soon the
rest of the boys in class are convinced they’re
also having babies. (After all, their mothers
have said they have “baby fat”—words that
suddenly have new, and seemingly obvious,
meaning.) As usual, Pham’s illustrations
capture both the highs and the lows, from
Alvin examining his profile in the mirror to
In this free-verse novel closely based on a true story
(with photographs at the end), a little French girl
recounts her childhood during World War II. Born to
Polish atheist Jews, Odette lives a pleasant life with her
parents in Paris, while Madame Marie, their upstairs
neighbor, takes on a special role as her godmother. Paris
becomes increasingly dangerous after her father enlists
in the army and her mother joins the Resistance, and
after a frightening visit from soldiers where Madame
Marie hides Odette and her mother in a closet and says
all the right, terrible things about Jews in order to protect them, Odette is sent to a
country village, posing as a Christian. The uncertainty of her life filled with secrets
is beautifully realized, along with the hard choices she must make. “Did God punish
me because I told a lie, / said that I was not Jewish? / But my mother told me to lie.
/ ‘It’s a matter of life or death,’ she said. / And the priest tells us to obey our parents.”
The free-verse narration opts for directness over lyricism, allowing Odette’s terror,
confusion, and gradual acceptance of her new life and new familiarity with God to
come through in a very personal way. Macdonald delicately balances the reader’s
happiness that the heroine survives with an understanding of her deep, permanent
sorrow for her people, ones she knew and ones she didn’t. susan dove lempke
takes the time to talk to Linus about color, design, and
“the future.” Because of the old man’s regular fruit order,
Linus dubs him Mister Orange. Two plot lines move
in parallel. Bohemian Mister Orange introduces Linus
to the joys of jazz and the avant-garde; meanwhile,
Albie’s letters home become increasingly bleak until
Linus realizes that war is nothing like the fantasy world
of Mr. Superspeed, the comic-book hero that Albie
had invented. Only in an appendix do we discover that
Mister Orange is Piet Mondrian, who in the last years of
his life lived in New York City, working on his painting
Victory Boogie-Woogie. The various elements here don’t
entirely mesh, but this Dutch import by the author of
Departure Time (rev. 11/10) presents a fresh and immediate portrait of the time and place. sarah ellis
Dragon Run
by Patrick Matthews
Middle School Scholastic 328 pp.
3/13 978-0-545-45068-3 $16.99
e-book ed. 978-0-545-52073-7 $16.99
Mister Orange
by Truus Matti; trans. from the Dutch by Laura Watkinson;
illus. by Jenni Desmond
Intermediate Enchanted Lion 160 pp.
1/13 978-1-59270-123-0 $16.95
In 1943 Manhattan, Linus’s position in his large family shifts when his oldest
brother, Albie, goes off to war and Linus is assigned a new job—delivery boy for
the family’s grocery store. One of his customers is an artist, a kind elderly man who
Lulu and the Dog from the Sea
by Hilary McKay; illus. by Priscilla Lamont
Primary Whitman 108 pp.
3/13 978-0-8075-4820-2 $13.99 g
Lulu and the Dog from the Sea. Illustration © 2011 by Priscilla Lamont.
On Testing Day, when twelve-year-olds are summoned to the castle to earn the dragon-mandated rank
that will determine the course of their future lives,
Al Pilgrommor is given a shameful score: zero, even
lower than those who score a one and are forbidden
to own property or father children. On the run from
the Cullers who want to kill him, Al finds help: from
the mysterious society of Evans that help him escape;
from his friends Wisp and Trillia, who abandon their
own apprenticeships to go into hiding with him; and from the sword his parents left
him—which he can use to defend himself if he can teach himself to do more than
parry. Author Matthews lays down his cards at a deliberately teasing pace as readers
slowly begin to see the bigger picture: dragons are harvesting magical energy from
the ranked humans, giving the dragons nearly unlimited power and preventing most
humans from putting it to their own use. The society of Evans has a plan to loosen
the dragons’ stranglehold on humanity, and Al, who is unsusceptible to magic, could
play a role in that plan—if he can only figure out what he’s supposed to do. Stories
that shed light; colorful characters who help the young protagonists along; and a plot
that keeps getting bigger and bigger propel this sleeper tale to a whiz-bang conclusion. anita l. burkam
Animal-lover Lulu and her best friend and cousin, Mellie, go on holiday with Lulu’s
family to stay at a cottage by the sea. This second appearance of the pair (Lulu and
the Duck in the Park, rev. 9/12) allows readers more insight into the two girls and
their friendship as well as a chance to know Lulu’s distinctive family. The cottage’s
grumpy caretaker points out a dog running wild who’s “not welcome around here.”
Them’s fightin’ words for Lulu,
and she systematically goes
about winning the dog’s trust
by feeding and petting him,
caring for his neglected coat, and
praising him. “Often she said
‘Good dog’ as she petted, and
every time she said it the dog’s
tail beat with happiness.” Clearly
Lulu has plans to rescue this dog,
knowing full well her parents’
rule about pets: “The more the
merrier! As long as Lulu cleans
up after them!” Mellie’s love of
crafts and her attempt to make a
kite become integral to the story
as McKay tightly connects several subplots. Along with the novel’s straight chronological order and abundance of natural dialogue, generous pen-and-ink illustrations
show setting, characterization, and important action scenes, giving plenty of help for
its audience of beginning chapter book readers. betty carter
HYaqui Delgado Wants to Kick Your Ass
by Meg Medina
High School Candlewick 261 pp.
3/13 978-0-7636-5859-5 $16.99 g
e-book ed. 978-0-7636-6354-4 $16.99
A move to a new neighborhood in Queens means a new high school for almostsixteen-year-old Piddy (short for Piedad) Sanchez. Instead of a welcoming committee, she gets word that someone she doesn’t even know has it in for her. Yaqui
Delgado turns out to be one of those girls Piddy’s
mother calls “nobodies,” or, as Piddy explains it,
“They’re her worst nightmare of what a Latin girl can
become in the United States. Their big hoop earrings
and plucked eyebrows…their tight T-shirts that show
too much curve and invite boys’ touches.” Yaqui may
think she’s tough, but it’s Piddy and some of the other
female characters, namely Piddy’s mother and her
mother’s flamboyant best friend Lila, who make more
lasting impressions. Medina’s setting stands out as well,
especially her portrayal of the bustling Latina-owned
beauty salon, Salon Corazon, where Piddy works on
weekends, folding towels and sweeping up hair. It’s
here where Piddy overhears unsettling gossip about her
mother and father, a man Piddy has never met—gossip
that makes her question whether her mother is as virtuous as she purports to be. As
the bullying intensifies, so do Piddy’s fear and lack of self-worth, to the point that
she’s soon spending more time retreating from her life than living it. Is it easier to
give up and become a “nobody,” or should she fight back? Teens will identify with
Piddy’s struggle to decide. christine m. heppermann
Scarlet [Lunar Chronicles]
by Marissa Meyer
Middle School, High School Feiwel 452 pp.
2/13 978-0-312-64296-9 $17.99 g
Fiercely independent but naive Scarlet Benoit would
do anything to find her missing grandmother. When
a mysterious street fighter named Wolf offers to help
Scarlet, the two travel to Paris, where Scarlet risks
her life trying to save her grand-mère, uncovering
shocking truths about Wolf, her grandmother, and
her own past along the way. This engrossing sci-fi
adaptation of the Little Red Riding Hood story
(complete with Scarlet’s red hoodie) takes inspiration
from the original folktale but adds its own unique
twists, including romance. Meanwhile, and picking
up where Cinder (rev. 1/12) left off, cyborg Cinder
escapes prison in the Eastern Commonwealth (via spaceship) with fellow inmate
Carswell Thorne. Cinder has discovered she is the missing heir to the Lunar throne,
and even though a world-wide manhunt is underway, she and Thorne follow a lead
that eventually brings them to Scarlet and Wolf. By the end of this second series
installment, the two pairs have joined forces to stop evil Lunar Queen Levana. Meyer
exhibits impressive growth as a writer, seamlessly weaving the multiple story lines
together throughout the novel. She introduces a new heroine in Scarlet—as strong,
yet vulnerable, a character as Cinder—and Meyer doesn’t allow Cinder’s continuing
story to detract from maintaining primary focus on Scarlet’s tale. Further development of this futuristic world plus plenty of action, surprises, and a fast pace will keep
readers invested in their journey. cynthia k. ritter
The Runaway King [Ascendance Trilogy]
by Jennifer A. Nielsen
Intermediate, Middle School Scholastic 335 pp.
3/13 978-0-545-28415-8 $17.99
e-book ed. 978-0-545-52951-8 $17.99
Jaron has only been king of Carthya for a month when
an attempted assassination leads his advisors to consider
a regency until the boy comes of age. Forced into hiding,
Jaron takes the offensive, running away to the borders of
his kingdom where he hopes, ultimately, to infiltrate the
pirate camp and get to the bottom of things. Once there,
he is surprised to find Imogen, the girl he turned away
from the castle in The False Prince (rev. 3/12) so that she
would not become a pawn because of his affection for her. He is less surprised when
Roden, his erstwhile friend and rival, shows up. Through various machinations of
the plot, Jaron challenges the pirate king to a duel, emerges victorious, wins back
Roden’s allegiance, and remains maddeningly uncertain about his feelings for Imogen. Jaron barely has time to race back to the capital and put the regency plan to rest
before he is attacked by the neighboring kingdoms. This solid middle volume has
its own arc, but still ends with a cliffhanger, an important villain on the loose, and a
potential love triangle between Jaron; his betrothed princess, Amarinda; and Imogen,
now behind enemy lines. Nielsen’s mix of adventure and intrigue with the barest hint
of romance once again recalls Megan Whalen Turner and Suzanne Collins but is a
great read in its own right. jonathan hunt
Requiem [Delirium Trilogy]
by Lauren Oliver
Middle School, High School Harper/HarperCollins 391 pp.
3/13 978-0-06-201453-5 $18.99
e-book ed. 978-0-06-220296-3 $9.99
In the final book in the trilogy (Delirium, rev. 3/11; Pandemonium, rev. 3/12), fighting between the resistance and the regulators escalates to the brink of war. Within
the walled cities, officials consolidate power over the “cured” population with even
greater restrictions. Outside in the Wilds, the resistance
builds among those who escaped the cure, the procedure that prevents amor deliria nervosa: love. Oliver
deftly portrays both worlds through the parallel stories
of Lena and her best friend, Hana. Struggling for food
and shelter and hiding from the deadly regulators, Lena
and her friends make the dangerous trek north to join
with other refugees in the sharply drawn setting of the
Wilds. Lena also wrestles with her feelings for her first,
passionate love, Alex, miraculously returned yet deeply
damaged, and for gentle, patient Julian, now at her
side. Back in Portland, Hana prepares for her wedding
to soon-to-be-mayor Fred Hargrove in the polished
but empty society of the cured. Hana worries that the
cure hasn’t worked perfectly for her; her feelings are “not eradicated completely…
but like shadows,” and she cannot forget her worst memory—that she betrayed Lena
and Alex. Tension builds as Oliver drives both narratives inexorably toward both the
climactic battle and a dramatic meeting of the two girls. Fans of the trilogy will be
rewarded. lauren adams
JLG gives you books to
free young imaginations
Fox Forever [Jenna Fox Chronicles]
by Mary E. Pearson
High School Holt 290 pp.
3/13 978-0-8050-9434-3 $17.99 g
The Jenna Fox Chronicles distinguish themselves among the many dystopian novels
because of their unique combination of genre appeal and literary merit, the juxtaposition of personal struggles and political turmoil, and the subtle exploration of
human nature. (The premise: three teenagers killed in a car accident receive new,
improved bio-engineered bodies and must survive in a society in which they are
considered illegal.) In this final installment, Locke (protagonist of The Fox Inheritance, rev. 9/11) is recruited by the Resistance to find out whether their missing
leader, Karden—long presumed dead—is really still alive, imprisoned by government
Security for the past sixteen years in the hopes of recovering the eighty billion duros he stole. The plan calls for
Locke to gain access to the home office of the Secretary
of Security by infiltrating his daughter Raine’s circle of
friends. As the plot races toward its climax, Locke must
find and rescue Karden and win back Raine’s affection
after she discovers his duplicity and betrayal—and he
must do it before the missing bank account numbers
expire. The denouement offers Locke and Jenna (The
Adoration of Jenna Fox, rev. 5/08) an opportunity for
closure in their relationship, and the final chapter, set
thirty years later, brings the trilogy to a satisfying conclusion. jonathan hunt
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Dr. Bird’s Advice for Sad Poets
Counting Back from Nine
High School Houghton 310 pp.
3/13 978-0-547-92853-1 $16.99 g
High School Fitzhenry & Whiteside 198 pp.
11/12 Paper ed. 978-1-55455-245-0 $9.95
by Evan Roskos
“I’m a depressed, anxious kid.” Maneuvering the hazards of high school, abusive parents, a banished sister,
and diminishing mental health proves exhausting for
sixteen-year-old James Whitman. He’s tried everything
to feel better—from reciting Walt Whitman to yawping in the face of adversity, hugging trees, rescuing a
Tastykake wrapper (he thinks it’s a bird) from being
hit by a bus, and even talking to an imaginary pigeon
therapist about his problems—but none of it seems to
help. When his parents refuse to pay for real therapy,
James decides to get a part-time job in order to afford
it himself, while simultaneously undertaking a crusade to get his sister reinstated
in school and ultimately welcomed back into his home. However, digging into his
sister’s past unearths secrets he isn’t entirely ready to face and solidifies his belief that
his family may be irreparably broken. Though his circumstances are nothing to laugh
at, James’s wry sense of humor, one of his most charming coping mechanisms, effortlessly fuses with the starkness of his reality. Author Roskos’s strength lies in his refusal
to tidy up the mess in James’s life and in his relentless honesty about surviving with
depression and anxiety. shara l. hardeson
HMidwinterblood
by Marcus Sedgwick
High School Roaring Brook 263 pp.
2/13 978-1-59643-800-2 $17.99 g
Sedgwick takes us backwards, first by sixty-year intervals
and then by leaps of centuries, in seven short stories
centering on a remote northern island and the potent,
drug-laden flower that blooms there. Each story begins
with love and ends with death, whether of young lovers,
parents and children, or brothers and sisters. It’s only in
reading through all seven that we begin to understand
the prehistoric ritual that brings bloody death and
forbidden love to “Blessed Island.” In each of these stories—set in 2073, 2011, 1944, 1902, 1848, the Viking
period of the tenth century, and “time unknown”—Sedgwick’s prose is taut, careful,
and chilling, as it moves through the bright, gentle language of love and the island’s
beauty to the abrupt, deliberate sacrifice that ends each section. The dark deceptiveness of words themselves underlies the island’s shift from “bloody” to “blessed” (as
the narrator says in a philological moment, tracing the word’s evolution from Old to
Modern English). But it’s the earthy, the romantic, and the ghostly—rather than the
cerebral—that make this book such a complete work of art. deirdre f. baker
by Valerie Sherrard
This novel in verse begins “when IT began”: the dissolution of Laren’s closest friendships after she steals
her friend’s boyfriend, Scott. The adjustment process
isn’t easy for Laren, and things get worse when her
father is hurt in a car accident and unexpectedly
dies from complications—then worse still “when
what cannot be / crashes into what is” and devastating secrets about his life are revealed. The road to
healing is a difficult one (occasioning some portentousness: “there are no arrows to tell you how to get
back to / where you were before”), but there are some things in Laren’s life that help:
she starts seeing the school psychologist; she writes a multi-part letter to her father
working through her complicated grief; she forces herself to appear strong for her
younger brother, Jackson; and she leans on boyfriend Scott (though readers can see
that he is not adequate support and will not be surprised when his cheating ways
resurface). Eventually Laren’s tone sounds wiser and healthier, and the memories she
zeroes in on are more positive. Sherrard has written a touching protagonist who is
heartbreakingly fragile yet also strong; the verse narration suits Laren’s character and
is an effective vehicle for these meditations on guilt, grief, betrayal, friendship, and
self-acceptance. katrina hedeen
Bruised
by Sarah Skilton
High School Amulet/Abrams 282 pp.
3/13 978-1-4197-0387-4 $16.95
Being bruised “means you’re alive,” Imogen’s friend Ricky tells her after she hurts her
hand. “The body can’t bruise once the heart stops beating.” But for Imogen, a high
school junior and a black belt in Tae Kwon Do, this
self-inflicted injury represents just one more way she’s
punished herself in the months since she witnessed a
holdup at the local diner. Can she ever forgive herself
for hiding under a table instead of using her martial
arts training to somehow stop the crime and prevent
the gunman from being shot to death by police? This
layered first novel explores the aftereffects of the trauma,
convincingly depicting why Imogen blames herself for
a situation over which she had no control. Skilton also
sensitively depicts the bond and tentative romance that
develops between Imogen and Ricky, another witness
to the shooting who also hid beneath a table. While
Skilton’s teen characters often seem more like twelve-
year-olds when talking or thinking about love and sex, the main story line about
Imogen’s struggle to come to terms with what she did (and did not do) is nuanced
and honest. christine m. heppermann
population suffering from a fatal fever. Here Smith gives us characters faced with two
choices: live or die. When Fen becomes the caregiver for an infant, her one hope is to
transport the child, disease free, from Orleans. Soon she meets an idealistic scientist
whom Fen believes can courier Baby Girl to freedom. Smith effectively tells their stories through both voices: his idealistic, naive, and grammatically perfect; hers, streetwise, in the dialect of the tribes of Orleans. Carefully crafted backstories, revealed
throughout the novel, allow readers initially to form opinions and later have these
either confirmed, denied, or altered. The bleak, austere setting becomes a tableau for
life’s basics: survival and sacrifice, compassion and greed. betty carter
Feral Nights
by Cynthia Leitich Smith
Fans of the Tantalize quartet (Tantalize, rev. 3/07;
Eternal, rev. 3/09; Blessed, rev. 1/11; Diabolical, rev.
1/12) will appreciate this companion novel featuring
its supporting cast. Set in Smith’s alternate Austin,
Texas, during the events of Diabolical, this book follows
wereopossum Clyde and human Aimee as they investigate the murder of their werearmadillo friend Travis.
They’re joined by Yoshi, the brother of missing werecat
(and prime suspect) Ruby. Just as the three teens realize that their information about Ruby doesn’t add up—and that she’s not the only
wereperson to disappear recently—they’re drugged and whisked away to a private
island where werepeople are hunted as game. Calculating yeti and ghostly Travis join
the established motley crew of werepeople, vampires, and angels, and while some
lingering questions from the quartet are answered, plenty of new and old mysteries
remain to be addressed in projected sequels. As before, Smith’s blend of supernatural
suspense, campy humor, and romantic tension is addictive; allusions to both pop
culture (“Thriller,” Monty Python) and literature (The Island of Dr. Moreau, The
Most Dangerous Game) add to the fun. Most satisfying of all, Aimee and especially
unassuming, injured Clyde leave their sidekick roles behind to come into their own.
katie bircher
Orleans
by Sherri L. Smith
3/13 978-0-399-25294-5 $17.99 g
With near-biblical cadence, sixteen-year-old orphan
Fen recites the flood stories of New Orleans, enumerating the hurricanes that have battered the city over the
years as they increase in frequency and intensity. In the
beginning, “the sky and the sea can’t live without New
Orleans being they own, so they start to fight over her.”
When Jesus, the seventh storm and a category 6, hits
the city in 2019, “that be the end of New Orleans. She
love that last storm so much, she run off with him and
leave only Orleans behind.” What remains is a necropolis, walled off from the rest of the U.S., and with its
Like Bug Juice on a Burger. Illustration © 2013 by Matthew Cordell.
High School Candlewick 296 pp.
2/13 978-0-7636-5909-7 $17.99
e-book ed. 978-0-7636-6368-1 $17.99
Like Bug Juice on a Burger
by Julie Sternberg; illus. by Matthew Cordell
Primary, Intermediate Amulet/Abrams 172 pp.
4/13 978-1-4197-0190-0 $14.95 g
As a girl, Eleanor’s mom loved Camp Wallumwahpuck so much that Eleanor is sure
she will, too. But as readers of Like Pickle Juice on a Cookie (rev. 5/11) know, Eleanor
is a worrier, and camp offers lots of opportunities for worrying as well as missing
home. Right away, she trips on a tree root, scraping up her hands, knees, and chin:
“I just lay there, / sprawled on the ground / like dirty underwear.” The short lines
offer an expressive form for bringing out feelings without harping on them, so Eleanor stays sympathetic, and Cordell’s funny cartoon sketches add humor and detail.
Through one series of pictures, kids who have never encountered tetherball can see
how the game works while being entertained by the gestures the two girls are making as they play. Just as Eleanor has sent off a coded letter to her parents that means
she wants to leave, she begins to find activities she enjoys, like visiting a baby goat
on a farm. Through hard work in her embarrassingly babyish swimming class, she
progresses to the next level, and by the end of camp Eleanor has found much to like.
Sternberg gets all of the details exactly right, from the “orange, oozing sloppy joes” to
the frustrations of trying to swim in a life jacket. susan dove lempke
Mojo
by Tim Tharp
High School Knopf 289 pp.
4/13 978-0-375-86445-2 $16.99
Library ed. 978-0-375-96445-9 $19.99 g
e-book ed. 978-0-375-89580-7 $10.99
If Encyclopedia Brown were a teenager trying to boost
his mojo by investigating both the death of a classmate
and the disappearance of a rich girl—and if his sidekick
Sally turned out to be a lesbian—you’d get the feel for
this snappy mystery. While hiding out (in a dumpster)
from bullies, wannabe-investigative-journalist Dylan
stumbles across the body of Hector Maldonado. The
police shrug off Hector’s death; meanwhile, on the
affluent side of town, the cops set up a search party to locate Ashton Browning,
whose family is offering a one-hundred-thousand-dollar reward for news of her
whereabouts. Dylan, along with his best friend Audrey and a girl named Trix they
are both crushing on, sees a connection between the two cases and begins his own
investigation. His suspicions are far-ranging, and readers are privy to all of his wild
theories; most will find themselves one step ahead of the hapless protagonist. There’s
some social commentary worked in—were Ashton and Hector secretly dating, and
if so, was someone angry about the white girl going out with the smart Hispanic kid
from the wrong side of the Oklahoma City tracks?—but mostly it’s just lots of fun.
Throw in a Fight Club–like rich-kid hangout, a sassy little-person exotic dancer, and
a terrible karaoke contest to make an entertaining mystery that doesn’t take itself too
seriously. elissa gershowitz
The Center of Everything
by Linda Urban
Intermediate Harcourt 197 pp.
3/13 978-0-547-76348-4 $15.99 g
Every year, the sixth graders at Bunning Elementary
School in southern New Hampshire create a color
wheel. Their art teacher, Mrs. Thomas, gives basic
instructions: include twelve colors, put them in order,
and identify the complementary ones. She provides
a model that looks like a bicycle wheel with spokes;
Ruby Pepperdine completes the assignment by making
her wheel just like Mrs. Thomas’s. This, Ruby believes,
is what she’s “supposed to do.” True to character, she
has figured out what is expected of her and met, but
not exceeded, those expectations. But then she spies
Nero DeNiro’s cleverly executed wheel and begins
to wonder: “What if there is no such thing as ‘supposed to’?” Literally and metaphorically, Ruby colors within the lines; Nero goes outside the boundaries. Ruby
begins to ponder her own life and her role as the “good girl” and looks for divine
help (through a complicated traditional birthday wish) for guidance. The different
segments of Ruby’s life, like those in the color wheel, had a center: her beloved, but
recently deceased, grandmother. But in an intriguing backstory that plays out almost
entirely during the town’s annual parade, Ruby realizes that she can become a center
for others. By turns thought-provoking, humorous, and poignant, Ruby’s story
introduces a multi-faceted character well worth meeting. betty carter
Navigating Early
by Clare Vanderpool
Intermediate, Middle School Delacorte 307 pp.
1/13 978-0-385-74209-2 $16.99
Library ed. 978-0-375-99040-3 $19.99
e-book ed. 978-0-307-97412-9 $9.99
Jack and Early are both outsiders in the Morton Hill
Academy for Boys, their mid-1940s Maine prep
school. Jack is new and from Kansas and has never
before seen the ocean or rowed crew; Early is gifted
but strange, dropping in and out of classes, subject to
brief epileptic seizures, bedding down in an abandoned janitor’s workshop rather than in the dormitory.
The two boys are each mourning someone, too: Jack’s
mother has died, thus occasioning his Navy captain
father to put him in boarding school; Early, we come
to learn, is not only orphaned but has lost his beloved
older brother (and Morton Hill golden boy) to the
war in Europe. While the writing is as minutely observant as it was in the author’s Newbery-winning debut,
Moon over Manifest, this book has a stronger trajectory, developed by the classic quest structure that emerges when Vanderpool sends
the boys into the Maine wilderness, on a search that Jack thinks is metaphorical but
is gradually revealed to be real—and life-changing—for both of them. Interspersed
episodes from a story Early tells about a wanderer named Pi sit uneasily; and Jack’s
narration can be too self-aware and self-explanatory, leaving the reader with perhaps
not enough to do, but the same attentiveness also gives the book a rich texture and
envelopment. roger sutton
Ivy Takes Care
by Rosemary Wells; illus. by Jim LaMarche
Intermediate Candlewick 197 pp.
2/13 978-0-7636-5352-1 $15.99 g
e-book ed. 978-0-7636-6363-6 $15.99
In the summer of 1949 in western Nevada, things are changing for thoughtful fifthgrader Ivy, who has a special gift with animals. Ivy senses a shift when her closest
friend Annie departs for her privileged summer camp in New Hampshire. Though
Ivy lacks Annie’s monetary resources, she is resourceful in her own way and starts a pet care business
with the intent of buying Annie a friendship ring.
The ring can’t hold Annie, but Ivy’s three clients and
their animals broaden her world and her relationship with others in remarkable ways. Ivy is a mature
character with strong insight: “She realized that she
missed Inca much more than she had missed Annie.
With a dog, there was no guessing as to who loved
whom in the world.” The vividly evoked rural setting
tends to overshadow the book’s historical period, but
the moving story, told from a third-person limited
perspective, brings the characters to life for young
readers. Ivy will need her independent nature and
confident spirit to achieve her ambitions, but readers
can see that with her open heart and mind, she will never be truly lonely. Occasional
spot art unseen. julie roach
make readers long to learn more about them and will likely inspire more than one to
follow the author’s appended note on ways to help alleviate suffering in the Sudan.
anita l. burkam
B.U.G. (Big Ugly Guy)
by Jane Yolen and Adam Stemple
Intermediate, Middle School Dutton 344 pp.
3/13 978-0-525-42238-9 $16.99 g
Twelve-year-old Sammy Greenburg is a victim. School
bullies make his days miserable—dunking him headfirst into the toilet, tripping him in the hallway, spitting on his food. But things begin to look up when he
befriends a new student named Skink, and they start a
“klezmer jazz boogie pop fusion rock” band with fellow
student Julia Nathanson. Skink even attends Sammy’s
Hebrew lessons with Rabbi Chaim, who, upon hearing
of the bullying, introduces the boys to the story of Reb
Judah Loew, who, in sixteenth-century Prague, created
a golem, “made of clay, animated by the name of God,
to stand as protector of the Jews when death threatened them all.” When Skink
is severely beaten by the same bullies who make Sammy’s school life a nightmare,
Sammy creates his own golem to protect him and Skink. Somehow, Sammy is able
to make a being so lifelike that he attends school, comes over to spend the night, and
plays drums in the band, and no one wonders too much who he is or where he came
from. Though utterly far-fetched, this is a likable tale with a clear and laudable message about friendship and learning to fight your own battles. dean schneider
The Milk of Birds
by Sylvia Whitman
High School Atheneum 371 pp.
4/13 978-1-4424-4682-3 $16.99 g
Curses! Foiled Again
by Jane Yolen; illus. by Mike Cavallaro
Middle School First Second/Roaring Brook 164 pp.
1/13 Paper ed. 978-1-59643-619-0 $15.99
Curses! Foiled Again. Illustration © 2013 by Mike Cavallaro.
In alternating first-person accounts and letters, fifteen-year-old Nawra, an “internally
displaced person” living in a camp in the Sudan, and K. C., a fourteen-year-old
girl struggling with learning disabilities in Richmond, Virginia, find strength in
their friendship and begin to work through their problems. The two are connected
through Save the Girls, a fictional charity based on an actual one (Women for
Women International) that matches U.S. donors with Sudanese pen-pals and offers
job training as well. Although Nawra is grieving the murders of most of her family,
the withdrawal of her surviving mother, and a pregnancy brought about by gang
rape, she still has gentle words of encouragement
and advice for her American “sister.” K. C.’s initial
reluctance (writing is an almost insurmountable
chore for her) develops into passionate advocacy as
Nawra slowly reveals her circumstances. Their correspondence deepens ties both girls have with family,
community, and each other. Nawra’s conversation
and letters are embroidered with Sudanese proverbs
(“The miserable person has a long life,” “Nothing
scratches your skin like your own fingernail”) that
with their poetic, wry images state the truth, if sometimes obliquely. Despite believing she is “dumb,”
K. C. invests her letters with such curiosity and
spirit that she avoids an unflattering comparison
with Nawra’s fortitude. These two correspondents
Foiled’s (rev. 7/10) feisty heroine, Aliera Carstairs, makes a return appearance, ready
to “save Faerie from the big bad guys. The really big bad guys. You know, ogres and
witches and trolls. Oh, my!” But, of course, there’s also high school and fencing
class, and “balancing the mundane
world with the mystical” isn’t exactly
easy-breezy. To make matters more
complicated, Aliera’s got an unwanted
bodyguard: Avery Castle. He’s a high
school hottie in daylight, but as darkness falls, he morphs into a troll. And
although Avery has pledged to protect
her, how can Aliera, Defender of Faerie,
bring herself to trust a troll, especially
when her cousin Caroline’s life may
be on the line? As Aliera quarrels with
Avery about, well, everything, their
back-and-forth thrust and parry is a
clever verbal analog to actual fencing. Yolen repeats this comparison
and even winks at its appearance in
movies like The Princess Bride during
Aliera’s showdown with the Dark Lord,
who is not only the leader of the trolls
but, in an unexpected twist, the real
betrayer of Aliera’s trust. Throughout
the graphic novel, Cavallaro plays with
contrast, interrupting his muted gray
palette (Aliera is colorblind) with bursts
of bright color whenever fantastical
creatures or objects appear on the scene.
tanya d. auger
Paper Valentine
by Brenna Yovanoff
Middle School, High School
Razorbill/Penguin 307 pp.
1/13 978-1-59514-599-4 $17.99
From page one, the landscape of this
novel is decidedly eerie. The city of
Ludlow is experiencing a suffocating
heat wave, there’s a rash of dead birds,
a young girl is found brutally murdered
in a park, and there is Lillian, Hannah’s
best friend who died six months ago
but now haunts Hannah’s every move.
The description of ghost Lillian, who
died of anorexia, is vivid, disturbing,
and even crude: “Her face is as sharp
and hollowed-out as a moon crater”; “The outline
of her hipbones looked like a basket with nothing in
it.” Sustaining this tone throughout, Yovanoff relates
Hannah and Lillian’s obsessive investigation (both in
the real world and the supernatural realm) into the
murders that soon pile up in their community. The
serial-killer mystery unfolds steadily, then rapidly,
and the climax is unexpected and thrilling. Meanwhile, Hannah begins a relationship with mysterious
delinquent Finny Boone. As their romance blossoms,
so, too, does Hannah’s confidence, her spirit slowly
strengthening until she’s able to stand up for herself
in multiple situations—even to Lillian, who had been
the dominant one in their friendship. This is taut
sleuthing, a supernatural ghost story, and a comingof-age novel; it’s horrific and shrouded in death but also poetic and life-affirming.
These remarkable juxtapositions will haunt readers long after they’ve put the book
down. katrina hedeen
Poison
by Bridget Zinn
Middle School Hyperion 280 pp.
3/13 978-1-4231-3993-5 $16.99 g
Sixteen-year-old Kyra is a girl with more than her share of secrets. Living in the
world of witches, dwarves, potion masters, shape shifters, and the like, she is reluctant to trust anyone, even her best friend and the future queen, Ariana. Readers learn
early on that Kyra has attempted to murder Ariana,
and we spend the rest of the book trying to figure
out why Kyra shot a deadly potion at her…and why,
when she has never missed a target, she missed that
one. Twists and turns, including dramatic cliffhanger
chapter endings, quick getaways, disguises, trickedout witches, a princess-seeking pig, and one especially
clever and handsome boy make this a fine rollicking
adventure from start to finish. The author’s use of
thoroughly modern language in a magical setting adds
to the charm. The characters are complicated and act
in flawed human ways, making mistakes in judgment
that make the plot twists all the more realistic. Kyra
and Ariana are strong girls in the Vesper Holly tradition—not giving in to sexist social requirements and,
thank goodness, never fighting over Fred, the love
interest. Zinn has crafted a marvelous tale, more Harry Potter than Twilight. Readers
will be sad that, due to her untimely death, Zinn’s promising debut novel will be her
last. robin l. smith
Folklore
Primary Ferguson/Farrar 32 pp.
3/13 978-0-374-39899-6 $16.99 g
The brief and absurdist folktale “Master
of All Masters” (found in Joseph
Jacobs’s English Fairy Tales), about an
eccentric gentleman who insists on his
own invented language, is a tempting
story to tell, except for two problems.
The tale’s invented words (pondalorum for water, barnacle for bed) lack
nonsense logic, at least in our time
and place, and the punch line, a sort
of party piece tongue-twister, leaves
the listener wondering, “And then…?”
In Jacobs, it feels like a joke that got
frozen on its way to becoming a story.
DeFelice and Cole do a fine job of
letting the premise grow into a real narrative and amending the invented terms
to ones that trip more rhythmically off
the tongue as they take on an energetic
American twang. Here, when red-haired
World Rat Day:
Poems About Real Holidays
You’ve Never Heard Of
by J. Patrick Lewis; illus. by Anna Raff
3/13 978-0-7636-5402-3 $15.99 g
by Janice N. Harrington;
illus. by Brian Pinkney
You may not have been aware that
April 10 is Firefly Day, but now that
you are, you can celebrate by reading
“A Thousand Baby Stars”: “How could
I ever catch them all / As they were
Preschool Farrar 32 pp.
2/13 978-0-374-34746-8 $15.99 g
Unlike the industrious Little Red Hen,
the hen in this story (from the Nkundo
people of Central Africa) is the one
who keeps putting off doing any work.
When Mama Nsoso’s chicks are shivering in their nest at night, she promises
they will build a new “ilombe” (house),
but each day something yummy begs to
be eaten instead: “crunchy-munchy, /
sweety-meaty, / big fat worms!” It’s
getting ready / To fire up a festival? /
ELECTRIFIED CONFETTI.” Twentyone additional obscure but entertaining
holidays get their own poem, each one
funny, playful, and even instructive, as
in “Eight Table Manners for Dragons”:
“Don’t talk with people in your mouth.”
(The holiday? Dragon Appreciation
Day.) Raff’s ink washes and drawings
feature animals with lots of personality,
like the worms who look very worried
World Rat Day. Illustration © 2013 by Anna Raff.
by Cynthia DeFelice;
illus. by Henry Cole
orange, and red, capturing a feeling of
motion with his loose black lines. Both
Harrington and Pinkney steer clear of
any overt moralizing—the mama hen
is warm and loving, the chicks entertainingly cute, and in the end all are
delighted to find their beautiful new
house. An appended glossary and a
comprehensive author’s note explain the
roots of the tale and the Nkundo words
used. susan dove lempke
Poetry
Busy-Busy Little Chick
Busy-Busy Little Chick. Illustration © 2013 by Brian Pinkney.
Nelly May Has Her Say
Nelly May Has Her Say. Illustration © 2012 by Henry Cole.
Nelly May heads up the hill in search of
employment with Lord Pinkwinkle, the
requirements of the job are to memorize
his eccentric names for things: a bed is
a “restful slumberific,” water is “rivertrickle,” boots are “stompinwhackers,”
etc. DeFelice rounds out the character
of the unnamed child servant in the
folktale to the capable and clever Nelly
May and adds an extra, highly satisfying beat to the plot. Cole’s illustrations
don’t try to be too clever, and the clean
book design and forefronted action
make it perfect for storytime, which is
where this comical tale of creative naming will shine. sarah ellis
“busy-busy” Little Chick who gets to
work, ignoring the tempting worms and
crickets and corn to gather materials
and build. Former children’s librarian
Harrington knows how to tell a story,
and she uses repetitive elements and
refrains to keep children engaged and
participating. Pinkney here moves away
from his usual structured scratchboard illustrations to create free and
energetic watercolors in bright yellow,
by Jack Prelutsky;
illus. by Carin Berger
Primary, Intermediate Greenwillow 40 pp.
3/13 978-0-06-201464-1 $17.99
Library ed. 978-0-06-201465-8 $18.89
Ingenious book design pairs with
inventive poetry to create this museumin-a-book of animal poems, featuring unusual critters such as Fountain
Lions, Braindeer, and Slobsters. The
concept itself is simple: combine a real
animal with a quality that fits into the
name (Bobcat + Sob = Sobcat, “sad /
As a feline can be”). The fun comes in
the perfect but unexpected matches
Prelutsky makes, such as the Stardines
of the title, who “twinkle overhead,”
Grumbles from the Forest:
Fairy-Tale Voices with a Twist
5/07), Pug features a radically different
design from that of those quiet earlier
books, so in tune with Worth’s elegantly
simple verse. Still, times change, and Jenkins’s bold collages of precisely observed
creatures effectively dramatize these
eighteen welcome additions to Worth’s
oeuvre. The soulful, lifesize “Pug” face on
the jacket is a worried charmer (“Perhaps because, for / Dogs, they look / A
lot like people”); a primeval black bull
personifies his kind (“Rough-hewn, /
From the planet’s / Hard side, / From
the cold / Black rock / That abides”). A
by Jane Yolen and Rebecca Kai
Dotlich; illus. by Matt Mahurin
Primary Wordsong/Boyds Mills 40 pp.
3/13 978-1-59078-867-7 $16.95 g
An introductory authors’ note describes
this book’s concept: each of fifteen wellknown fairy tales is distilled into two
short poems, one written by Yolen, the
other by Dotlich. (Oddly, who wrote
what is only mentioned on the copyright page.) The perspectives are mostly
different, and are often those of characters—or inanimate objects such as the
princess’s pea—not usually heard from
Pug and Other Animal Poems
by Valerie Worth;
illus. by Steve Jenkins
Primary Ferguson/Farrar 40 pp.
3/13 978-0-374-35024-6 $16.99 g
Valerie Worth is fondly remembered for
her small books of “small poems”—delicate epiphanies springing from thoughts
on such ordinary things as a book, a
fence, an acorn, rags—all exquisitely
illustrated with Natalie Babbitt’s small,
delicate line drawings (gathered in All
the Small Poems and Fourteen More, rev.
3/95). Like Jenkins’s first collection
of Worth’s poems, Animal Poems (rev.
Grumbles from the Forest. Illustration © 2013 by Matt Mahurin.
Stardines Swim High Across
the Sky and Other Poems
or the Jollyfish, “radiant, / Ebullient
blobs of mirth.” Berger sets up each
illustration to look like a diorama in a
museum, incorporating found objects,
aged paper, and other miscellanea to tag
and label the various beasts. The total
effect is both whimsical and fascinating,
with rich language in the poems and
unexpected objects in the pictures to
return to over and over again. Prelutsky
concludes with (presumably) a little
poke at himself in the poem about
Bardvarks, who “think they’re poets /
And persist in writing rhyme”—but
children will be glad he persisted. susan
dove lempke
Stardines Swim High Across the Sky and Other Poems. Illustration © 2012 by Carin Berger.
when advised to “stay away from / The
Robin ’hood,” while a pair of realistically enormous robins dig their bills
into the ground above their heads. The
poems vary in length and style, with
a concrete poem in the shape of a flamingo for Pink Flamingo Day, and five
limericks in honor of May 12, Limerick
Day. Children may find themselves
inspired to discover (or invent) their
own quirky holidays and write some
quirky poems, too. susan dove lempke
few illustrations seem out of scale with
their subjects and with the lovely verse:
Jenkins’s thrush is outsize and raucous,
an unlikely source for one of nature’s
sweetest songs. Worth’s poems remain
a marvel and a joy: each offers, like the
firefly here, its “Gold-green / Revelation,
before / Slipping out / Between crossed /
Thumbs, and slyly / Winking away.”
joanna rudge long
playing up characters’ facial expressions and posture, along with shadows
or light and angles sharp or soft, the
pictures help reinforce meaning of
the occasionally oblique writing. Two
appended pages provide short summaries of the traditional stories along
with brief information about origins
and variants; three websites are also
included for further reference. elissa
gershowitz
Tito Puente. Illustration © 2013 by Rafael López.
in the traditional tales. In the kick-off
poem, the wicked fairy from “Sleeping
Beauty” first laments, then shrugs off,
being outsmarted (“I blame myself. /
This didn’t go well”). Many of the subsequent pieces also incorporate humor,
but, just as in fairy tales themselves,
there’s no lack of darkness—menace,
longing, envy, violence—throughout
the book. Mahurin’s varied, painterly
illustrations echo each piece’s tone; by
Nonfiction
From Seeds to Harvest
in a School Garden
by George Ancona;
photos by the author
1/13 978-0-7636-5392-7 $16.99
Ancona spent portions of all four seasons observing students in their school
garden at Acequia Madre Elementary
School in Santa Fe. The result is this
fertile book, which shows the garden
as an outdoor classroom and gathering place for the school community.
From spring planting to winterization,
full-color photographs chronicle a year
in the life of the garden; students are
shown composting soil, watering plants,
raising butterflies, and sampling the
edible delights. While green is visually
ubiquitous, the real star of the show
is white—as in white space, which is
plentiful and keeps each spread from
becoming crowded. The inclusion of
student-created art on nearly every
spread is surprisingly successful, used
sparingly to punctuate the attractive
layout. Of course, appealing book
design means nothing if the accompanying text doesn’t work, but not to
worry—Ancona’s no-nonsense style is
perfectly suited for newly independent
readers. For example, his five-sentence
description of pollination succinctly
boils down the subject into a digestible
morsel for young readers. Like these
children and adults working in harmony
with the earth’s resources, Ancona’s
words and visuals exist in a beautiful
balance. A bibliography and list of websites are appended. sam bloom
It’s Our Garden. © 2013 by George Ancona.
It’s Our Garden:
Tito Puente:
Mambo King / Rey del Mambo
by Monica Brown; trans. into
Spanish by Adriana Domínguez;
illus. by Rafael López
Primary Rayo/HarperCollins 32 pp.
3/13 978-0-06-122783-7 $17.99
A bilingual picture book charts the
life of the Mambo King himself, Tito
Puente, with all the exuberance of the
drummer and bandleader’s irresistible
music. Beginning with the opening
endpapers, where two children peek
through a flame-red theater curtain,
Brown and López set the stage for a
series of tableaux illuminating highlights in the Puerto Rican musician’s
life. The scenes themselves are simple
enough—Tito takes music lessons, Tito
joins the Navy, Tito goes to Juilliard,
Tito wins a Grammy—and are told
in straightforward English and Spanish language that lends itself to easy
recitation and translation. The vibrant
imagery hums right off the page, full of
high-contrast color and energetic composition, and decorated with swirling,
starry embellishments. The treatment
HHoop Genius:
How a Desperate Teacher and a Rowdy
Gym Class Invented Basketball
by John Coy; illus. by Joe Morse
Primary Carolrhoda 40 pp.
3/13 978-0-7613-6617-1 $16.95
e-book ed. 978-0-7613-8723-7 $12.95
This thrilling account of the birth of
basketball is more a biography of the
game itself than of its creators. The
story begins with one James Naismith
taking over an unruly gym class that
had already run off two predecessors.
He tries playing favorite sports indoors,
but by the time they get to lacrosse not
a player remains without some form of
bandage. He needs a game where “accuracy was more valuable than force.” And
so, in a Massachusetts gymnasium, basketball is concocted. Coy understands
the power of detail—only one point
was scored in the very first game—and
his tight focus on the game’s initial
season is immediately engrossing. Spare,
precise language reflects the game’s
welcome sense of order as well as its
athletic appeal. Morse’s kinetic paintings, at once dynamic and controlled,
fill the spreads, capturing the game’s
combination of power and finesse.
And the stylized figures and restrained
palette of blue, brown, purple, and gray
fix the proceedings in the nineteenth
century. Naismith’s abiding respect for
his students’ irrepressible energy plays
an important role in the invention of
the game, and the book credits the
entire crew (“James Naismith and that
rowdy class”) with the creation, adding
a nuanced understanding of the value of
sports and teamwork. An author’s note
and selected bibliography offer addi-
Deadly! Illustration © 2012 by Neal Layton.
is not especially deep and is decidedly
positive: Tito’s life reads like a sequence
of successes, each met with acclaim
from smiling audiences and enthusiastic
animals on every page. While a brief
biography as an endnote offers a bit
more information, this brash, joyous
outing lives to express not the facts of
Tito Puente’s life but the spirit of his
music. A final rumba beat, in musical
notation, captures the story’s irregular
refrain: “¡Tum Tica! ¡Tac Tic! ¡Tum Tic!
¡Tom Tom!” thom barthelmess
tional information, and a you-are-there
facsimile reproduction of the original
thirteen rules of basketball adorns the
endpapers. thom barthelmess
Deadly!:
The Truth About the Most
Dangerous Creatures on Earth
by Nicola Davies; illus. by Neal Layton
Primary, Intermediate Candlewick 64 pp.
3/13 978-0-7636-6231-8 $14.99
Readers with a taste for the grisly realism of nature will revel in the latest
Davies and Layton collaboration, featuring the ways in which animals cause
lasting harm or death to other animals,
including humans. No punches are
pulled here—this is gory-but-fascinat-
ing information about predators and
defenders and the adaptations that assist
in their survival. Davies commendably
balances spectacle and science, providing accounts that are rich with factual
detail (how big cats kill their prey with
teeth, muscles, speed, and sight; why
some ants explode themselves for the
sake of their colonies) and admiration
for the diversity and realities of life.
Davies also alerts readers to the ways in
which animals such as spiders, snakes,
and tigers inadvertently (and sometimes
even deliberately) hurt humans. The
book ends with an upbeat perspective on how all these seemingly bad
ends have positive outcomes for both
humans and the environment. Layton’s
Nicola Davies on Deadly!
Hoop Genius. Illustration © 2013 by Joe Morse.
horn book editors: What’s the most dangerous creature you’ve ever encountered?
nicola davies: My first job as a TV presenter was to swim with a captive killer whale. The
whale’s trainer had never swum with her, and seemed a bit nervous, but it was my first
job and I didn’t want to seem like a wuss. Plus I had a good feeling about this whale, so
I just dived in. She seemed really pleased to have company and she carried me on her
back round and round her pool. Then I had to swim to the side of the pool and talk to
the camera. Whilst I was doing that, she swam toward me with her mouth open and all
those enormous teeth showing and closed her jaws on my arm.
I can’t tell you why, but I wasn’t even a tiny bit scared, and not at all surprised that she
wasn’t biting me, just very gently grasping my arm and pulling me back into the water
to play with me some more. But I think the cameraman and the producer almost had
heart attacks.
Colorful Dreamer:
The Story of Artist Henri Matisse
by Marjorie Blain Parker;
illus. by Holly Berry
Primary Dial 32 pp.
11/12 978-0-8037-3758-7 $16.99
This picture-book biography opens in a
dreary French village where, compared
to simple, hard-working villagers like
his parents, Henri Matisse didn’t “excel
at much of anything—except, perhaps,
dreaming.” This dreaming is brought
vividly to life in illustrations that depict
the village in black, white, and gray
except for the electrifying pops of color
that represent Henri’s dreams. The
text, too, mirrors the artist’s emotional
state, describing with glum language
the morose years as a misunderstood
son and bored law clerk (which “tied
his stomach in knots”) and then a
period bedridden in a hospital. Once
Henri discovers painting, the diction
becomes more lively (“He picked up
the paintbrush and was transported
Miss Moore Thought Otherwise:
How Anne Carroll Moore Created
Libraries for Children
by Jan Pinborough;
illus. by Debby Atwell
Primary Houghton 40 pp.
3/13 978-0-547-47105-1 $16.99
Nowadays, Anne Carroll Moore is
remembered as the fiercest of the library
ladies whose influence on children’s
library service and publishing was
Miss Moore Thought Otherwise. Illustration © 2013 by Debby Atwell.
into paradise”). As the story describes
Matisse’s years as an artist, Berry’s illustrations never go back to the original
drab palette, instead directly mimicking Matisse’s Fauvist use of color and
maturing style. Spreads of his time on
the French coast nod to specific, wellknown Matisse still-life and landscape
pieces, while spreads relating his older
years during which he “painted” with
colored paper incorporate—then move
entirely to—collage. Though Parker’s
lyrical text and Berry’s impressive
mixed-media pictures fully encompass Matisse’s chronology, aspirations,
talents, and style, an appended note furthers young readers’ understanding of
one of modern art’s preeminent figures.
katrina hedeen
that “the balls he pitched looked like
marbles or bullets.” As a test, a game
was set up between the barnstorming
team Dick Bartell’s All Stars (a group
of major league players plus DiMaggio) and the Satchel Paige All-Stars.
The first time up, DiMaggio nervously
faced the great Satchel, and was hit by a
pitch. In his second at-bat, he grounded
out, as he did the third time up. In his
fourth at-bat, he smacked a shot over
Satch’s head that was caught by the
Something to Prove:
Something to Prove. Illustration © 2013 by Floyd Cooper.
Colorful Dreamer. Illustration © 2012 by Holly Berry.
cartoon illustrations skillfully lighten
the tone, as animals in the throes of
death or dismemberment often provide
humorous asides and jokes. danielle
j. ford
both inspirational and—
sometimes—intractable. But
this easygoing picture-book
biography forgoes coverage of
the more formidable aspects of
Moore’s personality, giving us
instead a simple narrative of
Moore’s Maine childhood and
early love of books on through
to her career at the New York
Public Library, where she
created the innovative Central Children’s Room for the
library’s new main building in
1911. With sun-dappled acrylic
paintings of, first, rural Maine
and, later, triumphantly, the
light-filled interiors of the new
Children’s Room, the tone here is one
of uncomplicated optimism, reflecting
Moore’s practical idealism. A bird’seye view of Miss Moore setting off on
her “retirement” travels spreading the
gospel of children’s librarianship across
the land clearly places this apostle in
the company of her (fictional) Maine
sister, Miss Rumphius. “More about
Miss Moore” and a list of sources are
appended. roger sutton
The Great Satchel Paige
vs. Rookie Joe DiMaggio
by Robert Skead;
illus. by Floyd Cooper
Primary, Intermediate Carolrhoda 40 pp.
4/13 978-0-7613-6619-5 $16.95
e-book ed. 978-1-4677-0954-5 $12.95
In 1936, two baseball players had
something to prove. Was twenty-oneyear-old Joe DiMaggio ready for the
Major Leagues? Should Satchel Paige,
pitching great in the Negro Leagues, be
playing in the Majors? After all, Paige
“threw fire,” and baffled batters said
One Step at a Time:
A Vietnamese Child Finds Her Way
by Marsha Forchuk Skrypuch
Intermediate Pajama Press 104 pp.
2/13 978-1-927485-01-9 $17.95
Skrypuch’s Last Airlift: A Vietnamese
Orphan’s Rescue from War (rev. 9/12)
told the dramatic story of eight-yearold Tuyet’s 1975 rescue from Saigon
Who Says Women
Can’t Be Doctors?:
The Story of Elizabeth Blackwell
by Tanya Lee Stone;
illus. by Marjorie Priceman
Primary Ottaviano/Holt 40 pp.
2/13 978-0-8050-9048-2 $16.99 g
Here’s a refreshing introduction to a
regularly but often dryly cited female
“first.” The girl “who tried sleeping
on the hard floor with no covers, just
to toughen herself up” becomes the
young woman who proved she was as
smart as any of the male students at
Geneva Medical School, and, eventually, the woman doctor who opened
the first hospital for women, run by
Who Says Women Can’t Be Doctors? Illustration © 2013 by Marjorie Priceman.
center fielder. The game went to extra
innings, and both players did indeed
prove themselves worthy. DiMaggio
joined the Yankees right away, but it
was twelve years before Satchel Paige
broke the color barrier, a year after
Jackie Robinson. Skead effectively uses
a little-known baseball episode to portray larger issues of race and justice in
America, while superbly developing the
game’s tension inning by inning. Grainy
brown-toned illustrations nicely evoke
the dreamy reminiscences of baseball
legend, and frequent changes of perspective keep the story from becoming
static. An engaging look at two baseball
greats who eventually made it into the
Baseball Hall of Fame. An author’s note
and brief bibliography are included.
dean schneider
aboard a giant plane filled with babies in
cardboard boxes. This sequel describes
Tuyet’s adjustment to life with her
adoptive Canadian family, the story’s
drama this time revolving around the
surgery she must have on her leg. Polio
has left Tuyet with one leg that’s weak
and smaller than the other: “Her ankle
turned inward, making her foot useless.
She had to limp on the bone of her ankle
to get around.” Memories of fire, bombs,
helicopters, and a hospital—things she
thought she’d forgotten—come flooding back, and Tuyet is all alone in the
hospital (no parents allowed) and knows
no English. Readers will be just as riveted
to this quieter but no-less-moving story
as Tuyet bravely dreams of being able
to run and play—a new concept for a
girl who has spent her days caring for
babies. Especially satisfying is Skrypuch’s
portrayal of Tuyet’s growing trust in her
adoptive family, whose love and affection never fail to amaze and thrill her.
Illustrated with photos. Includes notes,
further resources, and an index. jennifer
m. brabander
women, because no one else would hire
her. Elizabeth Blackwell’s early life is
outlined in trim conversational prose
in this lively picture book treatment.
As she did in Elizabeth Leads the Way:
Elizabeth Cady Stanton and the Right to
Vote (rev. 5/08), Stone addresses readers
in the second person to involve them in
her energetic narrative: “Being a doctor
was definitely not an option. What do
you think changed all that? Or should
I say…WHO?” A choice handful of
biographical elements are arranged
artfully to develop Blackwell’s character
within the expectations and challenges
of her time. An appended two-page
author’s note delivers exactly enough
additional information and context for
readers to understand the basics of her
achievement. Priceman’s richly colorful gouache illustrations completely
dominate each spread, lending a perfect
framework of energy and pacing to the
text, and drawing upon its provocative
and often humorous tone. A short bib-
liography on the last page offers readers
more, its brevity suggesting just how
welcome this new title is. nina lindsay
When Stravinsky Met Nijinsky:
Two Artists, Their Ballet, and One
Extraordinary Riot
by Lauren Stringer;
Primary Harcourt 32 pp.
3/13 978-0-547-90725-3 $16.99
For a Horn Book issue with the theme
“Different Drummers,” a book about
the riotous 1913 premiere of The Rite of
Spring fits right in. Although Stringer
overplays the degree of collaboration
(Diaghilev, unmentioned here, chose
Nijinsky to choreograph the piece well
after Stravinsky had begun composing it), there is no doubt that the two
men created something beautifully,
brutally new, its “primitive” rhythms
and movement almost as shocking and
divisive today as they were to the first
audience at the Théâtre des Champs-
Élysées. Stringer’s text has brio (perhaps
a tad too much: “[Stravinsky’s] trumpet
tah-tahed a twirling ballerina”), and her
acrylic illustrations dance right along
in a sweep of movement and color that
owes as much to Matisse as to its own
lively spirit. Notes about the ballet,
Stringer’s visual inspirations, and a list
of sources are appended. roger sutton
Of Interest
to Adults
Fairy Tales from
the Brothers Grimm:
A New English Version
edited by Philip Pullman
Viking 406 pp.
11/12 978-0-670-02497-1 $27.95
It’s no surprise that Pullman can tell
a story, but the magic he works on
these fifty favorites is a revelation. It’s
tempting simply to quote his supple
updating of dialogue, his spot-on
descriptions, and his sage notes on such
Audiobooks
The Wolves of Willoughby Chase
by Joan Aiken; read by Lizza Aiken
When Stravinsky Met Nijinsky. © 2013 by Lauren Stringer.
subjects as the effectiveness of
plot structure. Listing variants,
both international and amongst
the Grimms’ many editions (see
also the excellent bibliography),
Pullman explains his own choices
like a master teacher illuminating
the art of storytelling: “I like the
version here because the reward is
for courage, not just for luck.” Or,
“Strong Hans” is “not very tidily
strung together…once you start
‘improving’ a tale like this, it can
easily come apart in your hands.”
All the teller can do, Pullman concludes, “is to try for clarity, and
stop worrying about it.” And so
he does, enlivening his text with
concrete details, hints of character, and
vivid language without ever breaching
the original tales’ integrity. The shoemaker, for example, picks up the shoes
the elves have stitched “and look[s]
at them closely from all angles…He
couldn’t have done better himself.” The
fisherman and his wife live “in a shack
that was so filthy it might as well have
been a pisspot.” This is indeed “A New
English Version,” a revitalized Grimm
to entrance seasoned admirers and new
readers alike. joanna rudge long
Intermediate Listening Library Rev. 2/64
4 CDs 4.8 hrs. 978-0-307-99128-7 $25.00
It’s author Aiken’s daughter who reads
this classic and old-fashioned adventure
novel, and the result is superb. The
combination of the author’s masterful
storytelling and the narrator’s assured
and intimate reading is mesmerizing.
Listeners will hold their breath as they
follow the up-and-down fortunes of
spunky Bonnie and timid Sylvia, menaced by wolves and by the scheming
and hateful governess Miss Slighcarp
alike. Today’s Harry Potter–weaned children will find orphans, villains, narrow
escapes, and friendships aplenty here
and may be glad to embark upon the
whole Wolves Chronicles. As an added
bonus, Lizza Aiken introduces this
audiobook with a brief story about how
her mother came to write the book—a
huge treat for longtime Joan Aiken fans.
martha v. parravano
The Diviners
by Libba Bray; read by January LaVoy
High School Listening Library Rev. 11/12
15 CDs 18.25 hrs. 978-0-449-80875-7 $60.00
Travel back to New York City in the
1920s with all the glitz, glamour, and
occasional supernatural serial murder.
For once, Evie O’Neill’s little party
trick—reading people’s secrets via
objects that belong to them—heralds
more good than harm if it can help
stop a serial killer from rampaging
through New York to fulfill an old
prophecy. Evie also soon discovers she
isn’t the only one with powers. With a
captivating cast of characters to portray,
LaVoy brings them all to life, employing a variety of accents that reflects the
diversity of the city’s inhabitants. With
so many competing voices, however,
LaVoy is not always completely successful: though she imbues the spectral
figure and antagonist John Hobbes
with an eerie shakiness, at times her
portrayal comes off as over the top.
Still, LaVoy fully captures Evie’s bubbly
personality, and her overall verve and
clarity nicely complement Bray’s vivid
writing. Listeners will be humming the
song “Naughty John” for days on end.
marisa finkelstein
D’Aulaires’ Book of Greek Myths
by Ingri and Edgar Parin d’Aulaire;
read by Paul Newman, Sidney Poitier,
Kathleen Turner, and Matthew
Broderick
Intermediate Listening Library Rev. 2/63
4 CDs 4.25 hrs. 978-0-449-01418-9 $25.00
Come for the illustrious lineup of
narrators; stay for the stories. Presented here on this reissue of a 2000
audiobook (originally published by
Airplay) is the whole pantheon of Greek
mythology, from the twelve Olympians
to the minor gods to the kings and
heroes of ancient Greece. The retellings shine even fifty years after their
original publication and even without
the d’Aulaires’ glorious illustrations:
here are tales full of adventure, intrigue,
rescues, betrayals, transformations, love,
lust, tragic fates, and petty squabbles.
The d’Aulaires don’t shy away from the
less salubrious aspects of the myths yet
never forget their target audience (they
include, for instance, many pourquoi
stories—how peacock feathers got
Fr o m T h e G u i d e
Novels in Verse
their “eyes,” why dolphins are the most
human of all animals). The superstar
narrators—Olympians in their own
right—clearly relish this material and
deliver expert performances. Paul Newman is quietly compelling describing
the epic creation of the Earth, the
Titans, and Zeus; Kathleen Turner
brings an appropriate passion to Zeus
and Hera’s tumultuous courtship;
Sidney Poitier lingers dramatically on
the gruesome details of Prometheus’s
punishment. Unobtrusive original pipe
music delineates transitions between
narrators. martha v. parravano
Eve & Adam
by Michael Grant and Katherine
Applegate; read by Jenna Lamia
and Holter Graham
Middle School, High School Macmillan Audio
Rev. 1/13 6 CDs 8 hrs. 978-1-4272-2663-1 $29.99
Two genetically modified teens come
together to fight the growing amorality of the biotech firm their parents
founded years ago. Chapters alternate
between the perspectives of Evening,
daughter of the powerful and feared
mogul Terra Spiker, and Solo, an
orphan living at Spiker Biotech. Narrators Lamia and Graham respectively
read these parts, with Graham also
taking on the role of Adam, Eve’s “perfect man,” whom she creates believing
that her genetic engineering is only a
computer simulation. Graham adeptly
differentiates between Solo’s and Adam’s
narratives with markedly different
approaches: Solo’s conversational tone
contrasts sharply with Adam’s earnest,
mechanic modulation. Lamia’s inability
to voice convincing accents—Haitian
and Vietnamese, for example—is a
detraction; her performance of Ashlynn
(Eve’s best friend), however, is impressive, swinging between insufferable
swagger to believable vulnerability as
the teens take on the evil scientists and
reshape a love triangle into a square.
allison e. cole
Code Name Verity
by Elizabeth Wein; read by Morven
Christie and Lucy Gaskell
High School Bolinda Audio/Brilliance Audio
Rev. 5/12 4/12 9 CDs 10 hrs.
978-1-7428-5764-0 $59.97
This is the intimate story of two young
women in WWII: one is a spy, the other
a pilot. One has a chance—the other
is doomed. The circumstances of war
throw them together, and they become
the best of friends. In fact, the book is
ultimately about friendship. The audio
features two different narrators portraying the two characters—one is a refined,
aristocratic Scotswoman; the other, a
working-class girl from Manchester. As
Julie, Christie is convincing—her tones
are subdued, as a tortured prisoner’s
would be. Her voicing of the narrative
conveys Julie’s exhaustion, fear, anger,
frustration, and sadness. Gaskell’s Maddie is a bit less believable (her narration
has several noticeable edits, and her
accent is more refined than Maddie’s
perhaps would have been), though the
story is so compelling that one doesn’t
really mind. All in all, this is a fine
audio of a thrilling, emotional, and
devastatingly honest book. Friends like
these don’t come along every day, nor
do books of this caliber. “Fly the plane,
Maddie.” angela j. reynolds
To honor National Poetry Month in April, we’re
spotlighting notable novels in verse from the past year.
From illustrated lighthearted verse to historical fiction
to contemporary realism, this eclectic potpourri of
Horn Book Guide–recommended novels showcases the
form and gives readers—from primary-age kids to older
teens—good reasons to celebrate poetry.
—Katrina Hedeen
Assistant Editor, The Horn Book Guide
Calhoun, Dia Eva of the Farm
235 pp. Atheneum 2012 isbn 978-1-4424-1700-7
Gr. 4–6 When life on the family farm as twelve-year-old Eva knows it is threatened by a
recession, fire blight, and sudden medical expenses, she turns to her great passion—poetry—
for comfort, self-expression, and a possible means of making money. Eva’s beautifully constructed, imagistic poems within this novel shine, allaying the minor lyrical inconsistencies of
the main verse narration.
Engle, Margarita The Wild Book
133 pp. Harcourt 2012 isbn 978-0-547-58131-6
Gr. 4–6 Engle relates, with some fictionalization, her grandmother Fefa’s childhood in dangerous early-twentieth-century Cuba. Fefa suffers from “word-blindness” (dyslexia), but she
slowly learns to read and write as a blank book from Mamá becomes her “garden” in which
“words sprout / like seedlings.” Spare, dreamlike verse pairs perfectly with a first-person narrator whose understanding of written language is unique.
Hemphill, Stephanie Sisters of Glass
154 pp. Knopf 2012 isbn 978-0-375-86109-3 le isbn 978-0-375-96109-0
YA Before his death, their father, a respected glassblower, declared that younger daughter
Maria must marry Venetian nobility, leaving elder Giovanna to stay on Murano with the
These reviews are from The Horn Book Guide and The Horn Book Guide
Online. For information about subscribing to the Guide and the Guide
Online, please visit hbook.com/subscriber-info/.
Fr o m T h e G u i d e
Hopkins, Ellen Tilt
604 pp. McElderry 2012 isbn 978-1-4169-8330-9
YA Mikayla, Shane, and Harley alternate narration as they struggle to find balance amidst
poor choices, family issues, and personal crises; snippets from secondary characters add perspective. The issues-laden plot and labyrinthine web of characters is the stuff of soap operas,
which older teens may relish. Hopkins’s free verse, with thoughtful line breaks and word
choices, is by turns poised and visceral.
Rosen, Michael Running with Trains: A Novel in Poetry and Two Voices
102 pp. Boyds/Wordsong 2012 isbn 978-1-59078-863-9
Gr. 4–6 With Dad MIA in Vietnam and Mom back in school, thirteen-year-old Perry takes
the train back and forth between Gran’s and Mom’s every week; Steve is a lonely nine-yearold on an Ohio farm, enamored with the train that passes through his family’s property. Both
boys’ alternating voices are unique and poignant in this verse novel about self-discovery and
the nature of home.
Rosenthal, Betsy R. Looking for Me
172 pp. Houghton 2012 isbn 978-0-547-61084-9
Gr. 4–6 In some free verse and some loosely rhymed poems, Rosenthal tells the story of her
mother Edith’s Depression-era childhood in a Jewish family with twelve children. The novel
is episodic but gives individual personalities to the many siblings. Edith’s voice is touching
and genuine; readers will maintain hope that she someday realize she’s more than “just plain
Edith / who’s number four.” Glos.
Tregay, Sarah Love & Leftovers
435 pp. HarperCollins/Tegen 2012 isbn 978-0-06-202358-2
YA Marcie’s dad comes out as gay, and she moves from Idaho to New Hampshire with her
depressed mother. Missing her boyfriend and crew of friends nicknamed “the Leftovers,” she
struggles to acclimate (and remain faithful). She returns to Boise midyear, but everything
is different—including her. The first-person verse narration wrought with satisfying angst
makes Marcie’s woes and joys palpable.
Wissinger, Tamera Will Gone Fishing: A Novel in Verse
128 pp. Houghton 2013 isbn 978-0-547-82011-8
Gr. 1–3 Illustrated by Matthew Cordell. Sam is excited for his fishing trip with Dad—until
little sister Lucy tags along. Poems of varied forms describe the fishing trio’s day: preparations, techniques (“Heeere, fishy, fishy, fishy…”), frustrations (“Lucy’s winning eight to… /
none”), and eventual triumphs. Cordell’s buoyant illustrations are a natural fit for the upbeat
verse. A “Poet’s Tackle Box” section outlines poetic devices and forms. Bib.
Impromptu
n.
family. The sisters each long for the other’s future (and suitor); creative ingenuity allows for a
satisfying resolution. A vivid fifteenth-century Venetian setting, true-to-life family tensions,
and fairy-tale romance complete this novel told in elegant verse. Glos.
le.
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And the winner is…
The winner of the 2013 Newbery Medal
is Katherine Applegate for The One and
Only Ivan (Harper/HarperCollins),
illustrated by Patricia Castelao. Splendors and Glooms (Candlewick) by Laura
Amy Schlitz; Bomb: The Race to Build—
and Steal—the World’s Most Dangerous
Weapon (Flash Point/Roaring Brook) by
Steve Sheinkin; and Three Times Lucky
(Dial) by Sheila Turnage were named
Newbery Honor Books.
Jon Klassen is the recipient of the 2013
Caldecott Medal for This Is Not My Hat
(Candlewick). Five titles were cited
as Caldecott Honor Books: Creepy
Carrots! (Simon) illustrated by Peter
Brown, written by Aaron Reynolds;
Extra Yarn (Balzer + Bray/HarperCollins) illustrated by Jon Klassen, written
by Mac Barnett; Green (Porter/Roaring
Brook) by Laura Vaccaro Seeger; One
Cool Friend (Dial) illustrated by David
Small, written by Toni Buzzeo; and
Sleep like a Tiger (Houghton) illustrated
by Pamela Zagarenski, written by Mary
Logue.
Katherine Paterson is the recipient of
the 2013 Laura Ingalls Wilder Medal.
The winner of the 2013 Coretta Scott
King Author Award is Andrea Davis
Pinkney for Hand in Hand: Ten Black
Men Who Changed America (DisneyJump at the Sun), illustrated by Brian
Pinkney. The honor awards went to
Jacqueline Woodson for Each Kindness
(Paulsen/Penguin), illustrated by E. B.
Lewis; and Vaunda Micheaux Nelson
for No Crystal Stair: A Documentary
Novel of the Life and Work of Lewis
Michaux, Harlem Bookseller (Carolrhoda Lab), illustrated by R. Gregory
Christie.
Bryan Collier is the recipient of
the 2013 Coretta Scott King Illustrator
Award for I, Too, Am America (Simon),
written by Langston Hughes. The
honor awards went to Christopher
Myers for H.O.R.S.E.: A Game of
Basketball and Imagination (Egmont);
Daniel Minter for Ellen’s Broom (Putnam), written by Kelly Starling Lyons;
and Kadir Nelson for I Have a Dream
(Schwartz & Wade/Random), with text
by Martin Luther King, Jr.
Demetria Tucker was named the
winner of the 2013 Coretta Scott King/
Virginia Hamilton Award for Lifetime
Achievement—Practitioner Category.
The 2013 Robert F. Sibert Informational
Book Medal goes to Steve Sheinkin for
Bomb: The Race to Build—and Steal—
the World’s Most Dangerous Weapon.
Three honor books were named: Electric
Ben: The Amazing Life and Times of
Benjamin Franklin (Dial) by Robert
Byrd; Moonbird: A Year on the Wind
with the Great Survivor B95 (Farrar) by
Phillip Hoose; and Titanic: Voices from
the Disaster (Scholastic) by Deborah
Hopkinson.
Up, Tall and High (Putnam) by Ethan
Long won the 2013 Theodor Seuss
Geisel Award. Honor books are Let’s Go
for a Drive! (Hyperion) by Mo Willems;
Pete the Cat and His Four Groovy Buttons (Harper/HarperCollins) written by
Eric Litwin, illustrated by James Dean;
and Rabbit & Robot: The Sleepover
(Candlewick) by Cece Bell.
Dial is the recipient of the 2013 Mildred L. Batchelder Award for My Family
for the War written by Anne C. Voorhoeve, translated by Tammi Reichel. The
publishers of two honor books were
also selected: Graphic Universe/Lerner
Obituaries
Storyteller, artist, and filmmaker
Gerald McDermott died December
26, 2012, in Los Angeles. He was
seventy-one. His picture book Arrow
to the Sun: A Tale from the Pueblo won
the 1975 Caldecott Medal; Anansi
the Spider: A Tale from the Ashanti,
and Raven: A Trickster Tale from the
Pacific Northwest were named Caldecott Honor Books. Raven and The
Magic Tree were Boston Globe–Horn
Book Honor Books. For more, please
see author-illustrator Doug Cushman’s appreciation on our website at
hbook.com/Gerald-McDermott.
Pre-eminent woodcut artist Antonio
Frasconi died on January 8, 2013,
in Norwalk, Connecticut, at ninetythree. He illustrated more than one
hundred books, including The House
That Jack Built / La Maison Que
Jacques a Batie, a 1959 Caldecott
Honor Book.
Jan Ormerod died on January 23,
2013, in Cambridge, England. She
was sixty-seven. The Australian-born
artist published more than fifty
picture books, including Sunshine,
Moonlight, 101 Things to Do with a
Baby!, and Goodbye Mousie (written
by Robie Harris). She received the
2011 Australian Prime Minister’s Literary Award for Shake a Leg (written
by Monty Boori Pryor).
Author and folklorist Diane Wolkstein
died January 31, 2013, in Kaohsiung,
Taiwan. She was seventy. Author of
some two dozen books, including
The Magic Orange Tree and Other
Haitian Folktales, Esther’s Story, and
The Banza, she is also credited with
reviving the art of storytelling while
serving, from 1967 to 1971, as New
York City’s official storyteller. “Cric?”
“Crac!”
for A Game for Swallows: To Die, to
Leave, to Return written by Zeina Abirached, translated by Edward Gauvin;
and Eerdmans for Son of a Gun written
and translated by Anne de Graaf.
Andrea Davis Pinkney has been chosen
to deliver the 2014 May Hill Arbuthnot
Honor Lecture.
The 2013 Andrew Carnegie Medal went
to Anna, Emma and the Condors (Green
Planet Films), produced by Katja
Torneman.
The Fault in Our Stars (Brilliance
Audio) by John Green, narrated by
Kate Rudd, is the recipient of the 2013
Odyssey Award. Honor citations went
to Artemis Fowl: The Last Guardian (Listening Library) written by Eoin Colfer,
narrated by Nathaniel Parker; Ghost
Knight (Listening Library) written by
Cornelia Funke, narrated by Elliot
Hill; and Monstrous Beauty (Macmillian
Audio) written by Elizabeth Fama, narrated by Katherine Kellgren.
Nick Lake is the recipient of the 2013
Michael L. Printz Award for In Darkness
(Bloomsbury). Four honor books were
recognized: Aristotle and Dante Discover
the Secrets of the Universe (Simon) by
Benjamin Alire Sáenz; Code Name Verity
(Hyperion) by Elizabeth Wein; Dodger
(Harper/HarperCollins) by Terry
Pratchett; and The White Bicycle (Red
Deer) by Beverley Brenna.
Tamora Pierce received the 2013 Margaret A. Edwards Award in recognition
of the Song of the Lioness Quartet and
the Protector of the Small Quartet.
Seraphina (Random) by Rachel Hartman received the 2013 William C. Morris
Award. Four other books were finalists
for this award: Wonder Show (Houghton) by Hannah Barnaby; Love and
Other Perishable Items (Knopf ) by Laura
Buzo; After the Snow (Feiwel) by S. D.
Crockett; and The Miseducation of Cameron Post (Balzer + Bray/HarperCollins)
by Emily M. Danforth.
The 2013 YALSA Excellence in Nonfiction Award goes to Bomb: The Race to
Build—and Steal—the World’s Most
Dangerous Weapon by Steve Sheinkin.
Four other books were finalists for the
award: Titanic: Voices from the Disaster
by Deborah Hopkinson; Moonbird:
A Year on the Wind with the Great
Survivor B95 by Phillip Hoose; Steve
Jobs: The Man Who Thought Different
(Feiwel) by Karen Blumenthal; and
We’ve Got a Job: The 1963 Birmingham
Children’s March (Peachtree) by Cynthia
Levinson.
The 2013 Stonewall Children’s and
Young Adult Literature Award goes to
Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets
of the Universe by Benjamin Alire
Sáenz. Four honor books were selected:
Drama (Graphix/Scholastic) by Raina
Telgemeier; Gone, Gone, Gone (Simon
Pulse) by Hannah Moskowitz; October
Mourning: A Song for Matthew Shepard
(Candlewick) by Lesléa Newman; and
Sparks: The Epic, Completely True Blue,
(Almost) Holy Quest of Debbie (Flux) by
S. J. Adams.
The 2013 Pura Belpré Author Award
goes to Benjamin Alire Sáenz for
Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets
of the Universe. An honor citation
was awarded to Sonia Manzano for
The Revolution of Evelyn Serrano
(Scholastic).
David Diaz won the 2013 Pura
Belpré Illustrator Award for Martín de
Porres: The Rose in the Desert (Clarion),
written by Gary D. Schmidt.
The winners of the 2013 Schneider
Family Book Award are Back to Front
and Upside Down! (Eerdmans) by Claire
Alexander in the young children’s category; A Dog Called Homeless (Tegen/
HarperCollins) by Sarah Lean in the
middle school category; and Somebody,
Please Tell Me Who I Am (Simon) by
Harry Mazer and Peter Lerangis in the
teen category.
Chickadee (Harper/HarperCollins) by
Louise Erdrich is the recipient of the
2013 Scott O’Dell Award for Historical
Fiction.
The winner of the 2013 Charlotte
Zolotow Award is Each Kindness by Jacqueline Woodson, illustrated by E. B.
Lewis. Three honor books were named:
Flabbersmashed About You (Feiwel) written by Rachel Vail, illustrated by Yumi
Heo; Me and Momma and Big John
(Candlewick) written by Mara Rockliff,
illustrated by William Low; and Sleep
like a Tiger written by Mary Logue,
illustrated by Pamela Zagarenski.
The 2013 NCTE Orbis Pictus Award goes
to Monsieur Marceau: Actor without
Words (Roaring Brook) written by Leda
Schubert, illustrated by Gérard DuBois.
Five honor books were named: Citizen
Scientist: Be a Part of Scientific Discovery
from Your Own Backyard (Holt) written
by Loree Griffin Burns, photographs by
Ellen Harasimowicz; Electric Ben: The
Amazing Life and Times of Benjamin
Franklin by Robert Byrd; The Mighty
Mars Rovers: The Incredible Adventures
of Spirit and Opportunity (Houghton)
written by Elizabeth Rusch; Those Rebels, John & Tom (Scholastic) written by
Barbara Kerley, illustrated by Edward
Fotheringham; and We’ve Got a Job: The
1963 Birmingham Children’s March by
Cynthia Levinson.
The Association of Jewish Libraries
announced that the 2013 Sydney Taylor
Book Awards will go to Linda Glaser
and Adam Gustavson, author and
illustrator of Hannah’s Way (Kar-Ben);
Louise Borden, author of His Name
Was Raoul Wallenberg (Houghton); and
Deborah Heiligman, author of Intentions (Knopf ).
Trilby Kent won the Canadian Children’s Book Centre’s 2012 TD Canadian
Children’s Literature Award (English
Language) for Stones for My Father
(Tundra). The Centre also awarded the
Geoffrey Bilson Award for Historical Fiction for Young People to Kate Cayley for
The Hangman in the Mirror (Annick);
the Norma Fleck Award for Canadian
Children’s Nonfiction to Susan Vande
Griek for Loon (Groundwood), illustrated by Karen Reczuch; the Marilyn
Baillie Picture Book Award to Geneviève
Côté for Without You (Kids Can); and
the John Spray Mystery Award to Rob
Mills for Charlie’s Key (Orca). The
Centre added a new award this year:
the Monica Hughes Award for Science
Fiction and Fantasy given to PJ Sarah
Collins for What Happened to Serenity?
(Red Deer).
Illustrator Quentin Blake has received
a knighthood in the United Kingdom’s
2013 New Year Honours.
Horn Book diary
An update on the activities of Horn
Book contributors, reviewers, and staff.
The Horn Book, Inc., along with
co-sponsors Reach Out and Read
and the Cambridge Public Library,
will present a one-day conference,
“Fostering Lifelong Learners: Prescribing Books for Early Childhood Education,” on Thursday, April 25th, at the
Cambridge Public Library. For more
information, please go to hbook.com/
EarlyChildhoodEdu.
Elissa Gershowitz, senior editor of The
Horn Book Magazine and the Horn
Book’s online content editor, gave birth
to her second child, Zachary Hart
Silber, on December 19, 2012.
Contributor and former Horn Book
Magazine associate editor Claire Gross is
the new youth librarian at the Egleston
Branch of the Boston Public Library.
Poisoned Apples: Poems for You, My
Pretty, a new YA poetry collection by
reviewer Christine M. Heppermann, is
being published by Greenwillow.
On March 2, 2013, reviewer Joanna
Rudge Long will take part in a webinar
for the Examined Life (an online pro-
gram concerning the history, literature,
and culture of ancient Greece) on
illustrations for children of classic texts
titled “Rosy Fingered Dawn and Wine
Dark Sea: From the Image to the Page.”
Want to write
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We are always on the lookout for
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your submissions (note: reviews are
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etc.—should be approximately 350
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Index to Books Reviewed
Blowing our own horn
Aiken, Joan, 141
Ain, Beth, 96
Alvin Ho, 110
Ancona, George, 132
Applegate, Katherine, 142
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Index to Advertisers
Disney-Hyperion...................................cover 3
Macmillan.................................................... 19
Hamline....................................................... 28
Penguin.......................................................... 9
HarperCollins................................................ 3
Random House............................................ 95
Houghton.................................................... 10
Scholastic..........................................6, cover 4
Junior Library Guild.................................. 117
School Library Journal............................... 133
Lerner.......................................................... 38
Simmons College......................................... 70
Little, Brown.........................................cover 2
Simon & Schuster........................................ 80
Volume LXXXIX, Number 2. The Horn Book Magazine® (issn 0018-5078, usps 250-700) is published six times a year in January, March, May, July,
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Children’s Literature Abstracts, Guidelines, Library Literature, Magazine Index, and Media Review Digest.
Bania, Michael, 81
Benjamin Bear in “Bright
Ideas!”, 97
Bink & Gollie, 98
Black Rabbit, 86
Bluebird, 92
Bramble and Maggie, 102
Bray, Libba, 141
Brown, Monica, 133
Browne, Anthony, 82
Bruised, 119
B.U.G. (Big Ugly Guy), 125
Bunnies on Ice, 94
Bunting, Eve, 82
Busy-Busy Little Chick, 128
Center of Everything, 122
Chima, Cinda Williams, 96
Cobb, Rebecca, 83
Code Name Verity, 142
Colorful Dreamer, 136
Construction Kitties, 93
Coudray, Philippe, 97
Counting Back from Nine, 119
Coy, John, 134
Crimson Crown, 96
Curses! Foiled Again, 125
Dahlquist, Gordon, 97
Dark, 91
d’Aulaire, Edgar Parin, 141
d’Aulaire, Ingri, 141
D’Aulaires’ Book of Greek
Myths, 141
Davick, Linda, 84
Davies, Nicola, 135
Deadly!, 135
DeFelice, Cynthia, 128
DiCamillo, Kate, 98
Different Girl, 97
Diviners, 141
Dr. Bird’s Advice for Sad
Poets, 118
Dodsworth in Tokyo, 99
Dotlich, Rebecca Kai, 131
Dragon Run, 112
Egan, Tim, 99
Eve & Adam, 142
Everyone Can Learn to Ride a
Bicycle, 89
Fairy Tales from the Brothers
Grimm, 140
Feral Nights, 120
Fisher, Catherine, 99
Flowers in the Sky, 108
Fox Forever, 116
Freaks, 109
Gardner, Sally, 100
Gewirtz, Adina Rishe, 100
Gibbs, Edward, 85
Grant, Michael, 142
Griffin, Claire J., 101
Grumbles from the Forest, 131
Haas, Jessie, 102
Hanson, Warren, 86
Harrington, Janice N., 128
Hathaway, Jill, 102
Have You Seen My New Blue
Socks?, 82
Healey, Karen, 103
Henkes, Kevin, 104
Hero on a Bicycle, 105
Hobbs, Will, 105
Hoop Genius, 134
Hughes, Shirley, 105
I Love You, Nose! I Love You,
Toes!, 84
I Spy on the Farm, 85
Impostor, 102
It’s Monday, Mrs. Jolly
Bones!, 86
It’s Our Garden, 132
Ivy Takes Care, 123
Jacobs, John Hornor, 107
Johnson, Alaya Dawn, 107
Johnson, Maureen, 108
Joseph, Lynn, 108
Kumak’s River, 81
Larwood, Kieran, 109
Lawrence, Caroline, 109
Leathers, Philippa, 86
Lewis, J. Patrick, 129
Like Bug Juice on a Burger,
121
Look, Lenore, 110
Lu, Marie, 111
Lulu and the Dog from the
Sea, 113
Lunde, Stein Erik, 87
Macdonald, Maryann, 111
Madness Underneath, 108
Maggot Moon, 100
Matthews, Patrick, 112
Matti, Truus, 112
McGhee, Alison, 98
McKay, Hilary, 113
Medina, Meg, 114
Meshon, Aaron, 88
Meyer, Marissa, 114
Midwinterblood, 118
Milk of Birds, 124
Miss Moore Thought Otherwise, 136
Missing Mommy, 83
Mister Orange, 112
Mojo, 122
My Father’s Arms Are a
Boat, 87
Navigating Early, 123
Nelly May Has Her Say, 128
Never Say Die, 105
Nielsen, Jennifer A., 115
Nowhere to Run, 101
Obsidian Mirror, 99
Odette’s Secrets, 111
Oliver, Lauren, 115
One Gorilla, 82
One Step at a Time, 138
Orleans, 120
Paper Valentine, 126
Parker, Marjorie Blain, 136
Pearson, Mary E., 116
Penny and Her Marble, 104
Phoebe and Digger, 91
Pinborough, Jan, 136
P.K. Pinkerton and the Petrified Man, 109
Poison, 127
Prelutsky, Jack, 130
Prodigy, 111
Pug and Other Animal
Poems, 130
Pullman, Philip, 140
Raschka, Chris, 89
Requiem, 115
Roche, Suzzy, 89
Roskos, Evan, 118
Runaway King, 115
Scarlet, 114
Sedgwick, Marcus, 118
Shannon, George, 90
Sherrard, Valerie, 119
Skead, Robert, 137
Skilton, Sarah, 119
Skrypuch, Marsha Forchuk,
138
Smith, Cynthia Leitich, 120
Smith, Sherri L., 120
Snicket, Lemony, 91
Something to Prove, 137
Springstubb, Tricia, 91
Staake, Bob, 92
Stardines Swim High Across
the Sky and Other Poems,
130
Starring Jules (As Herself ), 96
Stemple, Adam, 125
Sternberg, Julie, 121
Stone, Tanya Lee, 138
Stringer, Lauren, 139
Sturges, Judy Sue Goodwin,
93
Summer Prince, 107
Take Me Out to the Yakyu, 88
Tharp, Tim, 122
Tito Puente, 133
Twelve-Fingered Boy, 107
Urban, Linda, 122
Vanderpool, Clare, 123
Want to Be in a Band?, 89
Wells, Rosemary, 123
Wein, Elizabeth, 142
When Stravinsky Met
Nijinsky, 139
When We Wake, 103
Whitman, Sylvia, 124
Who Put the Cookies in the
Cookie Jar?, 90
Who Says Women Can’t Be
Doctors?, 138
Wolves of Willoughby Chase,
141
World Rat Day, 129
Worth, Valerie, 130
Wright, Johanna, 94
Yaqui Delgado Wants to Kick
Your Ass, 114
Yolen, Jane, 125, 131
Yovanoff, Brenna, 126
Zebra Forest, 100
Zinn, Bridget, 127
My Life in Comics
by Raina Telgemeier

Horn Book Magazine

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