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Below is a sample (in my cartoon-style) of a spot for the “Heartmatters” column I create illustrations for bi-monthly. All of these stories are uplifting and faith-building. I am blessed to be able to read this and then created illustrations to enhance the story.

I read a great article today about youth pastors and how important it is for congregations to support them and their efforts to bless and teach our children. As the parent of a teen and two preteens – I am in 100% agreement! I’ve added a few things below from my own perspective. 1. You…

Education for Ministry (EfM)

Want to Get an In-depth Understanding of Your Christian Faith and Tradition?

Education for Ministry (EfM) is a training program of the Episcopal Church which helps people, especially lay leaders and ministers, to

• deepen their spirituality through an effective theological reflection process and to
• bridge the gap between understanding the Bible and dealing with the issues of everyday life.

Each session includes prayer, discussion, and reflection according to a Theological Reflection (TR) process, and may also allow time for refreshments and socializing before or after the class. Reading assignments prepare participants for each session.

Beginning in early September, 2014, St. Mary’s and St. Elizabeth’s will join to offer a year-long class of this four year program for members of their congregations. Participants must be willing to commit to an academic year of training (36 sessions of about 2.5 to 3 hours each). A free session can be given ahead of time for prospective members to see if this is “your cup of tea.” To the degree possible, dates and times of sessions as well as class location will be scheduled after the class is organized to meet the needs of the participants.

Online information is available at http://theology.sewanee.edu/academics/education-for-ministry/.

If interested, and to get more information, please contact Fran Kramer at 457-9753 or [email protected]. Registration needs to be done by late July to place orders for books and to finalize the class preparations.

NOTE:  This course is being announced on this website but does not imply there is a connection to the study of dreams or intuition in the course.  Course content will be determined by Sewanee.

Below is a spot illustration I did a few months back that is recently in print. It’s for a Christian magazine so this is a story about kind of letting go and not sweating the chaos that can occur if you give children some part of the church service. It’s a sweet story if you have time to read it. All the ones I do for this magazine are like that. So I feel I get a blessing each time I do the illustration to accompany it.

As for the illustration, this project gives me opportunity to stretch my illustration style. In this case, I did the characters loosely and quickly (though that actually takes a lot of time to do!) and kept the color scheme somewhat monochromatic. Below, I have the spread in the article, and then half the illustration as a closeup.

Thanks for stopping by!

Book: The Sword of the Spirits
Author: John Christopher (pseudonym of author Sam Youd)
Pages: 212
Age Range: 9-12

The Sword of the Spirits concludes John Christopher's trilogy of the same name. This installment begins with Luke Perry as Prince of Winchester, and soon, Prince of three cities. Luke is on his way to his prophesied fate - Prince of Princes, ruler of the seven cities, and the person who will bring progress to his people. He still maintains his moral compass at this point, despite his power. He names Hans the Dwarf a warrior, in recognition of Hans' loyalty on the trip beyond the burning lands. Hans' fidelity remains strong in return. He is downright Biblical in his discipleship to Luke, and Luke appreciates him. For example:

"I thought of it. To have followed me to Sanctuary would have been a great enough thing. I remembered my own fear when I first saw the stones, enormous in the empty hillside, and that had been on a fair day, with Ezzard the Seer guiding me. To have ridden up into the dread circle through a snowstorm, leading my horse with me unconscious or even dead on it's back ... I had been right to make him warrior. I did not think there was another in my army who could have done it." (Page 98)

Luke maintains his by now trademark mixture of clear-eyed strategic vision and personal blindness, unaware of a childhood acquaintance's more than friendly affection for him. His is also unaware of the growing affection between his friend Edmund and his own fiancee, Princess Blodwen. This blindness, combined with Luke's pride, costs him nearly everything.

This is a difficult book. Luke's anger and feelings of betrayal cause him to do terrible things. It's hard for the reader to remain loyal to Luke, despite understanding where he's coming from, as he behaves in an increasingly bitter manner. He maintains some of his loyalties, and forms a powerful alliance, but other relationships are lost to him.

I don't know how to talk about this book without talking, in general terms, about the ending. If you are someone who doesn't want to know anything about a book's ending, whether it's happy or sad, you should stop reading here. I'll go into as little detail as possible.

As a reader of many books, I kept expecting things to turn around. I kept waiting for Luke to do the right thing, and live happily ever after. But alas - happily after was not to be. There is resolution at the end, even a measure of success and progress. But happy? No. Luke, with whom we've traveled through various adventures, does not end up happy. I suppose he's like Frodo, a bit, too damaged by what he's endured (and put others through, in Luke's case) to ever be truly happy again. This, I think, is why this series remains out of print in the US. We're not very receptive to unhappy endings and hollow victories.

Don't get me wrong. I think this series, and this conclusion, are brilliant. Bravery and loyalty are celebrated. Complex moral questions are addressed. Readers are encouraged to think for themselves, and draw conclusions beyond those reached by the narrator himself. But the traditional happy ending usually found in middle grade children's books is not to be had.

The Sword of the Spirits series is not for everyone. The violence is sometimes graphic (the "twitching" legs of a hanging victim, for instance), and the vocabulary and story construction somewhat challenging for middle grade readers. But, for readers who can handle such things, readers ready to think about complex moral issues and intrigued by the notion of a post-apocalyptic future, this series is not to be missed. I am glad that I read it, and recommend it highly to fans of dystopian science fiction tales.

Publisher: Macmillan
Publication Date: 1972
Source of Book: Santa Clara City Library
Other Blog Reviews: The Bookian. Sam Riddleburger did a John Christopher week in November, and discussed the Sword of the Spirits series in this post. 
Author Interviews: Sam Riddleburger also interviewed Sam Youd (Christopher's real name) during John Christopher Week.

Book: Leepike Ridge
Author: N. D. Wilson
Pages: 240
Age Range: 9-12

Background: Leepike Ridge was selected for the Cybils shortlist for Middle Grade Fiction this year. The blurb on the Cybils site, written by Kate Messner, started with: "Leepike Ridge is a book for every kid (and every grown kid) who played in refrigerator boxes, caught critters in the woods, and floated down creeks on homemade rafts." This intrigued me (I remember well the box from our full-size freezer), not to mention catching the eye of the man of my house, a former fort-builder and intrepid neighborhood explorer. So I sought out a copy from the ever-generous Random House. I had high expectations, and I was not disappointed.

Review: Leepike Ridge, written by N. D. Wilson, is a solidly written middle grade adventure story, filled with engaging details for readers of all ages. The writing is slightly tongue-in-cheek, and draws the reader in from the very first lines:

"In the history of the world there have been lots of onces and lots of times, and every time has had a once upon it. Most people will tell you that the once upon a time happened in a land far, far away, but it really depends on where you are." (Page 1)

So begins the story of a boy named Tom, who sets out, in a fit of rebellion against a potential step-father, on a home-made raft down a small river. The river draws Tom beneath a ridge of rock, and he finds himself trapped in a series of caves below a mountain. While adventures ensue for Tom within the caves, his mother, Elizabeth, faces down villains at home.

The beauty of this book is that although the adventures are a bit over the top, they never stray quite into the land of fantasy. This is Indiana Jones for 11-year-olds, with trappings ranging from dead bodies to juice boxes. N. D. Wilson, a father of four, knows what kids, and the kid inside all of us, will find exciting. Young Tom is a realistic hero - sometimes resolute, and sometimes afraid, but always, eventually, moving forward. Elizabeth, too, despite moments of despair, is a fighter. There's also a grouchy neighbor named Nestor who is an unexpected delight.

I think that Wilson strikes an excellent balance between keeping the plot moving forward, and giving the reader enough description to clearly imagine the characters and setting. It's obvious that he reveres the best aspects of a rural childhood - the joy of exploration and the appreciation of nature. Here are a few of my favorite examples of Wilson's writing:

"Tom had traveled around the sun eleven times when the delivery truck brought his mother's newest fridge, but a number doesn't really describe his age. His father had been gone for three years, and that made him feel older. He was the sort of boy who had many friends when he was at school, but what they knew about him was limited to his freckles, brown hair, long arms, and the clenched determination that settled onto his face when he was angry or competing." (Page 3)

"Occasionally he could see his house, perched on top of the rock, and occasionally the whole world would disappear and he would be left with nothing but the trunk and branches of a willow and a nest full of noisy birds hanging out over the slow water." (Page 6)

"After a few mouthfuls of moon-flavored air, even the stubbornly drowsy can find themselves wide-eyed. Tom was hardly drowsy, and he took more than a few mouthfuls. By the time he had reached the base of the rock, his senses were heightened nearly to the point of bursting." (Page 17)

After that, I stopped flagging passages, because I was so caught up in the story. I highly recommend this book for middle grade readers and up, for anyone who enjoys a bit of adventure. Leepike Ridge has a classic adventure story feel to it. In fact, I wonder if Tom's name in Leepike Ridge is an homage to another Tom who also was trapped in a series of caves... In any event, I strongly encourage teachers and librarians to try this one out on young readers. I think it's going to be a hit.

Publisher: Random House Books for Young Readers
Publication Date: May 2007
Source of Book: A review copy from the publisher
Other Blog Reviews: Lines ... in pleasant places, Kate Messner, The Book Club Shelf, Shelf Elf, Semicolon, Abby (the) Librarian, Emily Reads, Becky's Book Reviews, A Fuse #8 Production, Fairrosa's Reading Journal, Becky Levine (and doubtless others)
Author Interviews: Novel Journey

Book: Beyond the Burning Lands
Author: John Christopher (pseudonym of author Sam Youd)
Pages: 216
Age Range: 9-12

Beyond the Burning Lands is the second book in John Christopher's Sword of the Spirits trilogy, after The Prince in Waiting (reviewed here). Often, the second book is a trilogy is a bit weak - without the newness of the first book, and without the dramatic climax of the third. No so here, however. I think that Beyond the Burning Lands is the strongest book in this strong series.

This installment picks up where the first book left off. Teenage Luke is marking time in the Sanctuary of the Seers, in danger after his half-brother Peter was named Prince of Winchester. Good news arrives, however. Peter wants to make a fresh start, and has invited Luke to return, promising his safety. Things go reasonably well for Luke in Winchester, as his brother's presumptive heir, until a tragedy strikes. In the aftermath, Luke is allowed to accompany an Expedition that sets out to explore beyond "the burning lands" (volcanic mountains, just now starting to calm after many years of activity).

The country on the other side (inhabited by the "Wilsh") has been completely separate from the England of Luke's city, and has developed very different customs. It takes some time for Luke to fit in, but an act of heroism secures his position. His return to Winchester, however, is filled with peril. All in all, this book is quite exciting, especially the ending. My heart was in my mouth (even though I knew it was book 2 of 3, and likely to turn out ok).

Beyond the Burning Lands has an epic feel to it, despite not being very long. There's a dangerous journey, a strange land with strange customs, a battle with a monster, and a romance. Characters display loyalty and bravery, though some commit betrayals. Hans the Dwarf, a servant to Luke, is a loyal friend, in the tradition of Samwise Gamgee of The Lord of the Rings series. Peter the Prince is a delightfully complex character, influenced by his love of a woman. Many of the supporting characters are strong, too, especially the two rivals to Luke and Peter in Winchester and Luke's two best friends. I found the presence of the gelatinous monster a bit jarring, in a story that otherwise featured the possible, but perhaps the monster stemmed from some genetic mutation, too.

John Christopher, though Luke, shows kids that many issues aren't black and white. For instance, the two societies, the English and the Wilsh, treat the polymufs (people born with genetic abnormalities in the aftermath of radiation) differently. Both Luke and the Wilsh King, Cymru, think the other somewhat uncivilized in their choices, but Luke comes to see value in the approaches of both sides. Luke also learns that the strict gender roles of his own country, and the automatic subservience of woman, are not universal. The role of Christians also plays a part, their nonviolence in a violent world dooming them to live upon the fringes of English society. In this installment, however, Luke encounters more than one Christian who he can respect.

I think that the strongest aspect of this series is the way, despite giving us Luke's first person perspective, Christopher is able to show us Luke's flaws and misconceptions. Luke remains a sympathetic character, one who cares about honor and promises, even as he is intolerant in regards to the polymufs, Christians, and women, because he simply doesn't know any better, and bears no malice. Here's an example:

"And also, I guessed, since he had done that which was pleasing to his wife's strange Christian conscience. Nor had I any doubt that the main urging for my recall had come from her. Her influence over him was plainly great and this was something to be remembered. I could not see why it should be so -- why a man should let any woman dominate his mind -- but the fact that one did not understand a thing was no reason for not weighing its effects." (Page 24)

I also enjoyed the continued references to artifacts from our own fallen society. At one point, Luke and his friend come across an old, decaying painting by a man named Rembrandt, and Luke marvels at the painter's talent. They also find "small cylinders of a fragile white material packed with dried grass. Or so it seemed, but the smell was not a grass smell; it had a peculiar aromatic richness." I'm not sure that cigarettes would be included in a book like this written today, but they made sense when this one was written in the 1970's. Similarly, I'm not sure today's readers will understand about the knobs labeled "BRIGHTNESS" and "CONTRAST" on a mysterious machine with a screen. But surely their parents can explain.

Christopher never talks down to his readers. He uses words like "immured" and "floundered" in passing. He doesn't explain the motives behind every action - he leaves readers to figure things out. And he doesn't shy away from dark passages, like:

"The hills rose about the town and above the hills the sky was red, a heavy crimson from which now and then spouted gouts of orange flame. Seeing this, I realized that darkness which they never truly knew, could be a comforting and friendly thing. They lived their lives under this ominous light and it was small wonder they were soured by it. And there were ugly sounds as well -- distant foreboding rumblings as the earth growled in pain." (Page 65)

I would be interested to see what young fans of today's modern children's epics, like the Inheritance series, would make of the Sword of the Spirits books. Despite their relatively slim length, these are more difficult reads than many of their longer successors. I sometimes found myself re-reading passages, to better understand, and I am a very experienced reader of post-apocalyptic fiction. Morally ambiguous, tautly written, and laced with violence and cruelty -- I can see why these books are out of print. But I think that it's a shame. Books like these are what turn kids into critical thinkers. And to that in the midst of edge of your seat adventure -- that is a real achievement.

Publisher: Macmillan
Publication Date: 1971
Source of Book: Santa Clara City Library
Other Blog Reviews: The Bookian. Sam Riddleburger did a John Christopher week in November, and discussed the Sword of the Spirits series in this post. 
Author Interviews: Sam Riddleburger also interviewed Sam Youd (Christopher's real name) during John Christopher Week.

Book: The Prince in Waiting
Author: John Christopher (pseudonym of author Sam Youd)
Pages: 182
Age Range: 9-12

I recently read, for what I think is the first time (though there's a chance that I read it back in the mid-70s), the first book in John Christopher's middle grade science fiction trilogy Sword of the Spirits: The Prince in Waiting (1970). I was inspired to read it after reading a review on Sam Riddleburger's blog in November, and due to my fond memories of Christopher's wonderful Tripods series.

The Prince in Waiting starts out a bit slowly. Well, not so much slow as threatening to be about things that I'm not interested in. You have a boy chatting with a dwarf. The dwarf is forging a sword, and the boy is lamenting not being chosen to participate in a Contest involving swords and jousting on horseback. No electricity or modern conveniences of any kind are in sight. It's like something out of Arthurian times, except for the presence of the dwarfs, and the polymufs, which are a race of deformed people who work as servants/slaves. Slowly, however, hints begin to appear that, in fact, this is not a society from the past, but a society from the future, after some great Disaster has overtaken the world.

And that, for me, is the hook that kept me reading (as I mentioned in my recent review of Exodus), and will have me tracking down the other two books in the trilogy. I find endlessly fascinating the notion that all memory of our society could be gone, with people left to guess at what we were like based on looking at the crumpled rubble of once-tall buildings and the occasional scrap of surviving printed material. I enjoy seeing which customs survive, and which disappear, in the author's interpretation. In this story, the Christians are a peripheral, struggling sect, looked down upon for their odd beliefs. Most people follow the guidance of "Spirits", as translated by a small cadre of "Seers". Armed battles between the cities of the land (the dregs of England) take place frequently, though certain customs of honor also endure. Our hero, Luke, is the second son of a "Captain" (basically Knights who serve the Prince who rules each city). Luke learns, however, that he has a destiny beyond that of being a Captain himself.

Contemplating the ruins of what was apparently a cathedral, Luke muses:

"They had buried their dead in its shade -- there were worn stones bearing names and dates set in the ground -- and it was said that the Christians had used it as a place of worship. That, too, was hard to believe when one thought of the Christians, a handful of wretches living mostly in the hovels by the North Gate, so warped and degraded that they accepted polymufs as members of their sect and as equals. (They would have accepted dwarfs, too, but got no chance: dwarfs had their pride.)" (Page 48)

There's so much food for though in this tiny passage. The fact that worn tombstones have survived a disaster that left the cities in ruins. The radical notion that Christianity could fall into disarray, but also the hint that Christians retain a sense of acceptance, willing to take in those that others reject. The polymufs are the lepers of their time. Christopher resists the temptation to give Luke sensibilities advanced beyond those of his peers. Though the reader may question the treatment of the polymufs, Luke does not. I respect this choice, and I think that it's typical of Christopher's respect for his readers.

As for the story itself, there are battles and betrayals, loyalties and losses, and surprises. Friendship and family play major themes. It's a bit bloodthirsty, with more than one head ending up on a pike. However, Luke is slightly removed from the violence, and nothing is described in graphic detail - I think that it's fine for younger kids. Certainly it's no worse than Harry Potter in that sense, though Christopher leaves a lot more between the lines, and open for the reader's interpretation.

All in all, I don't think that this book is for everyone (not to mention the fact that it's out of print, and may be hard to find). But for fans of stories about Dystopian, future societies, with buried artifacts from our own, this is a compelling read. It's also likely to please kids who like books about sword battles and quests. Like Christopher's other books, it will make kids think. As I mentioned, this one is the first of a trilogy, and the ending is particular intriguing. The sequels, which I will be checking out of the library soon, are Beyond the Burning Lands (1971) and The Sword of the Spirits (1972).

Publisher: Macmillan
Publication Date: 1970
Source of Book: Santa Clara City Library
Other Blog Reviews: Bookian Review Library. Sam Riddleburger did a John Christopher week in November, and discussed the Sword of the Spirits series in this post. His comments, combined with my own fond memories of Christopher's Tripods series, are what inspired me to read this book.
Author Interviews:  Sam Riddleburger also interviewed Sam Youd (Christopher's real name) during John Christopher Week.

Book: Julia's Kitchen
Author: Brenda Ferber (see her children's blog)
Pages: 160
Age Range: 9-12

Brenda Ferber's debut novel, Julia's Kitchen, isn't quite what I was expecting from the cover (which shows a girl taking a heart-shaped cookie out of the oven). But it is wonderful! Julia's Kitchen is about 11-year-old Cara Segal, and how she and her father cope with the sudden deaths of Cara's mother and younger sister in a house fire. Cara struggles to understand her own feelings, questions a God who could allow something like this to happen, and keeps secrets from her now distant and shell-shocked father. Eventually, however, Cara finds a way to adapt by honoring lessons that her mother taught her, and doing something that she loves and finds valuable.

It's been a long time since a book made me cry like this one did. But they're good tears, tears that come at the end, as Cara is making progress, and connecting with the people left in her life. The first part of the book, when Cara learns about the fire, is shocking, but handled in a gentle manner. Cara is so bewildered that her grief is blunted for the reader. After that the sadness is mingled with day to day activities, and eventually with fond memories, and is never too much for the reader to bear.

Julia's Kitchen won the 2007 Sydney Taylor Book Award, which recognizes the best in Jewish children's literature. Cara's Jewishness is an essential part of the story. The community from their local Synagogue supports Cara and her father in their tragedy. They follow the Jewish customs of mourning. Cara analyzes her feelings about God, in light of the events. She misses the food-related rituals that her mother celebrated, and eventually learns from her grandmother how to make challah. The details about Cara's family's Jewish customs are organic to the story, never over-explained or feeling "educational". The funeral details, in particular, give Cara, and the reader, something to focus on besides sadness. Here's an example:

"We weren't allowed to get any food for ourselves or help with the dishes or anything. Friends and relatives did it all. We didn't have to greet anyone or say thank you either. I liked those customs." (Page 24)

This is a book that truly touches the heart, in part because of the subject matter, and in part because Cara feels so real. Brenda Ferber has a knack for conveying the voice of an eleven-year-old girl, with straightforward language, and realistic concerns. There's a storyline in which Cara and her best friend, Marlee, have a fight, and that fight has just the right degree of emotional importance, relative to the larger events of the story. I like that Marlee doesn't treat Cara with kid gloves, and that Cara's dad isn't perfect. But the best part of the book, for me, is the way that Cara's joy bubbles forth, in spite of her grief, when she does what her mother loves, and feels her mother in her heart.

"All at once I felt my whole body tingle. I knew it seemed crazy, but I felt as if Mom were there with me in the kitchen. No, not just in the kitchen, but inside of me, helping me along." (Page 108)

Despite the pitch-perfect 11-year-old voice and well-rounded characters, I wouldn't recommend Julia's Kitchen for everyone. It is quite a tear-jerker, and younger kids might find it too difficult to read about the loss of a parent AND a sibling in a realistic setting (loss is easier to tolerate in a fantasy environment, I think). But for anyone who can handle a bit of sadness, and likes a good cry now and then, Julia's Kitchen is not to be missed. Pair it with Bridge to Terebithia, snuggle up on your couch, and keep some tissues ready. You won't be disappointed. This one is a keeper.

Publisher: Farrar, Straus and Giroux
Publication Date: March 2006
Source of Book: A review copy from the author
Awards: This book won the 2007 Sydney Taylor Book Award for Older Readers. The Sydney Taylor Book Award recognizes the best in Jewish children's literature. 
Other Blog Reviews: Young Readers (also posted at Deliciously Clean Reads), Chasing Ray, A Readable Feast, Cynsations
Author Interviews: GregLSBlog, Prairie Wind

Book: Ida B : . . . and Her Plans to Maximize Fun, Avoid Disaster, and (Possibly) Save the World
Author: Katherine Hannigan
Pages: 256
Age Range: 9-12

Ever since a brief, hideously unsuccessful experiment with kindergarten four years ago, only child Ida B Applewood has been homeschooled. Ida B LOVES being homeschooled. She passes all of the mandated tests with flying colors, and is able to spend lots of time playing outdoors. With a sensibility reminiscent of Anne of Green Gables, Ida B considers herself friends with the rocks, trees, and brooks on her father's farm. She gives them individual names, and fancies that she can hear them speak to her. Her life is non-stop fun, though she takes seriously her responsibility as a caretaker of the land. Everything changes one dark day, however, when her parents let her down in a previously unimaginable manner. Feeling betrayed, Ida B descends into a black pit of resentment, closing off her heart completely, and plotting revenge. What will it take to thaw Ida B's frozen heart?

Ida B is an entertaining, slightly sentimental read, reminiscent of Ruby Holler and Because of Winn Dixie in tone. It would be an excellent book for kids facing any sort of major challenge or life change, especially the illness of a parent. It's a light enough read not to be overwhelming, yet deals with serious issues. Ida B, before she becomes black-hearted, is a joy to spend time with, observant, bold, and creative. Even after her betrayal, she's still funny and determined.

Hannigan's writing style is perfect for this story, descriptive, tactile, and lyrical, but readily accessible to elementary school kids. Here's a small example:

""Hmmmmm," Mama said, like a smile would sound if it could." (Page 4)

Hannigan is particularly skilled in describing sounds, especially voices, and this forms a bit of a leitmotif through the book. Here a couple of other examples:

"One night as we were walking along, Daddy took a deep breath, the kind that sounds like you're smelling something when the air's going in and you're sighing when the air's coming out, and it means something important's about to be spoken." (Page 28)

""Well, Ida Applewood, what can I do for you?" Even with my blurry vision, I could tell she was smiling. You could tell it just from the sound of her voice. I hated it.
"I'm new," I said. And you could tell by the sound of my voice that her happiness had not infected me." (Page97)

Several other things particularly pleased me about this book. First of all, the ending, while happy, does not include unrealistic levels of forgiveness. One relationship is left guarded at best. I like that Hannigan didn't succumb to the temptation to wrap everything up nicely. Also, through the intervention of a wonderful teacher (#50 on Mary Lee and Franki's list), Ida B finds a new activity that she loves so much that it gives her a "warm brightness" inside. I wish that every child (and adult, for that matter) could figure out what that activity is for them, and find ways to incorporate it in day to day life. Perhaps by including such a passion in this book, Hannigan will inspire some children to seek out their dream activities, and some teachers to help them.

I recommend Ida B for older elementary school kids, boys and girls (Ida B is quite a handful, boys will definitely be able to relate to her activities), and for anyone who needs help lifting themselves out of a pit of resentment or grief.

Publisher: HarperTrophy
Publication Date: August 2004
Source of Book: Bought it
Other Blog Reviews: Krystel's Book Blog, Lorraine's Lovely Reviews, Bookshelves of Doom

Book: The London Eye Mystery
Author: Siobhan Dowd (see also the book website)
Pages: 336
Age Range: 8-12

The London Eye Mystery, by Siobhan Dowd, is a locked room mystery for kids, one with a more intriguing setting than most. Ted and his sister Kat live in London. Given a single free ticket by a stranger, they send their visiting cousin, Salim, for a ride on the London Eye. They watch him get on and follow the progress of the pod that he's riding in, as it makes the standard 30-minute revolution around the Eye. But when the pod comes back to earth, Salim doesn't get off, and is nowhere to be found. Ted and Kat spend the rest of the book trying, despite roadblocks put up by the adults in the story, to figure out what happened. This is a solid premise, one that had me pondering possible solutions throughout the books.

What makes The London Eye Mystery stand out is the perspective of the narrator, Ted. Ted has a "syndrome" (apparently, though not stated, Asperger's), by which his brain "runs on a different operating system from other people's." Not better, not worse, but different. Ted uses the strengths that come from his difference to help him think through the facts surrounding Salim's disappearance. I like the fact that his syndrome is not cosmetic. It's not tacked on to make the character interesting. His particular thought patterns are essential to the evolution of the story and the solution of the mystery.

Ted's voice is consistent throughout, and provides a clear window into what it's like to have his syndrome. For instance, he doesn't understand colloquialisms, and takes everything people say literally, which lends some humor. For example:

"'Well, shake a leg,' Dad said. ('Shake a leg' is Dad's favorite way of saying 'Hurry up', although if you tried to run and shake a leg at the same time, you would fall over.)" (Chapter Seventeen)

I like the deadpan humor in Ted's precise speech. "You would fall over."

Ted sees the people around him with a peculiar combination of clarity and bemusement. His insights come from his observations of their behavior, rather than from any general things impressions that he can pick about appearances. Here are a couple of examples regarding Kat:

"I think people just look like who they are. I suppose I am ugly because nobody has ever said I am handsome. People are always saying how pretty Kat is so I suppose she is. To me, she just looks like Kat." (Chapter Four)

"Predicting what Kat is going to do next makes predicting the weather seem easier than counting to three. Kat is not only more unpredictable than the weather, she is also more unpredictable than a) volcanic eruptions or b) lunatics or c) terrorist attacks." (Chapter Ten)

"Then Kat did something brave. She made a pot of tea, even though her hands were shaking. That's Kat. Horrible about small problems, like missing a bus, or being 10 pence short for the CD she wants, but good about the big problems, like when Mum had a big operation the year before." (Chapter Fifteen)

This book will draw inevitable comparisons to The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, by Mark Haddon. The quirks to the two characters' syndromes bear obvious parallels. I think that The London Eye Mystery is the better book of the two because a) it has an actual, tension-building plot; b) the London setting is intriguing, detailed, and integral to the story; and c) it's not all about Ted -- Kat and Salim are both compelling, three-dimensional characters, too.

I recommend The London Eye Mystery for elementary school age mystery buffs, boys and girls, as well as for kids who have any kind of learning difference. The message that Siobhan Dowd conveys, with a very light hand, is that being different isn't necessarily bad. Differences in thinking can even turn into assets, depending upon the circumstances. Being able to get this across while keeping kids engrossed in the mystery took real talent on Dowd's part. It's tragic that she won't be writing any more books (she died in August).

Publisher: David Fickling Books
U.S. Publication Date: February 12, 2008 (already available in the UK)
Source of Book: Advance review copy from the publisher. Quotes above are from the ARC, and may not reflect the final version.
Author Information: Siobhan Dowd passed away in August. She was only 47 and would, I imagine, have written many other wonderful books.

Book: Miss Spitfire: Reaching Helen Keller
Author: Sarah Miller (blog)
Pages: 240
Age Range: 10 and up

Background: I've been meaning to read Miss Spitfire: Reaching Helen Keller for ages. This book is December's pick of the month from Readergirlz (and yes, since I'm a readergirlz postergirl, that means I should have read it months ago). It was also nominated for this year's Cybils award in middle grade fiction, and there are lots of great reviews floating around. Not to mention the fact that although I haven't met her in person, I love Sarah Miller's blog, and will be working with her in January as fellow Cybils Young Adult Fiction committee judges. I can't really say why Miss Spitfire didn't make the top of my to-read list before now (apart from the sheer quantity of other books). But I can tell you that once I started it the other night, I read it within 12 hours.

Review:

Miss Spitfire: Reaching Helen Keller is a thoroughly researched, fictionalized account of Annie Sullivan's earliest days teaching Helen Keller in 1887. Told in the first person, the story begins as 20-year-old Annie takes a series of trains from her school in Massachusetts to her first-ever job at the Keller's home in Alabama. Annie herself was blind until an operation gave her limited sight. This gives her some insight into the world of blind, deaf, six-year-old Helen. But Annie's true qualifications for dealing with the troubled Helen turn out to be her obstinacy and her temper, which together have already earned her the nickname Miss Spitfire. Annie quickly realizes that her first task must be to exact obedience from Helen, before she can move on to her true goal of teaching Helen about the miracle of words.

I was surprised by many things in this book. By how much Helen Keller was already able to communicate about her needs, even before she learned the concept of words. By how dreadful a childhood Annie Sullivan suffered. By the fact that Helen's father fought for the South in the Civil War, and had owned slaves. But what struck me the most about the book was the fact that Annie needed Helen just as much as Helen needed Annie (though for different reasons). My vague impression of the story was of a determined, but essentially put together teacher seeking to reach a damaged, half-wild child. But the truth, as conveyed by Sarah Miller, is that Annie was herself quite damaged also, and craving of love and affection from a child. For example, after an incident in which Helen rebuffs her, Annie notes:

"Watching her fondle the mimosa and azalea blossoms or press her face into the wide leaves of the ivy should bring me some comfort. Instead I feel as if something in the center of me has sunk like a weight, closing my throat and pulling the corners of my mouth down with it. How can she be so tender with the plants and leave me to wilt?" (Page 143)

In another incident, she mourns her lost younger brother, and cradles a doll instead of the wary Helen, thinking:

"Closing my eyes, I try to imagine away the doll's brittle hands and face, her slight cotton body. I dream of her as a child, my child--perfect in body and mind as Helen is not, and I never was. A child I could nourish, love, and teach with nothing but my own heart and hands.

A child who loves me back." (Page 185)

Of course Annie is not all longing. She has moments of unbridled joy, and a deep-seated stubbornness. In one of my favorite passages, she describes what it was like for her, after being blind for most of her childhood, to be able to see:

"I could see the Charles River, the windows in the school buildings along its shore, even count the very bricks in their walls. When I threaded a needle without using my tongue, I nearly melted with joy. Best of all, I could make out words on a page. Dizzy with independence, I snatched up every bit of writing I could find" (Page 99)

The Helen Keller/Annie Sullivan story captures people's attention all by itself. Annie and Helen are household names. Their story if a triumph of the mind over the limitations of the body, and is the ultimate example of a teacher opening up the world for a student. For that reason alone, this book about the pivotal early days of Annie and Helen's relationship is worth reading.

But Miss Spitfire offers much more than just the basic story. Sarah Miller has clearly immersed herself in her research, and cares about the characters. She shares, with an immediacy strengthened by the first person narration, details of Annie's character. Seeing Annie's vulnerabilities makes her eventual triumph that much sweeter. The book is also chock full of historical detail. Although the detail is kept to the background, Miss Spitfire provides a clear picture of life in the South in the late 19th century. As a small example, the family's kitchen is in a separate outbuilding behind the house, as I believe was common at the time because of the danger of fire. The family's complex relationship with their black servants is also lightly, but realistically, portrayed. 

Sarah Miller's writing is clear and melodic, with just a hint of old-fashioned language, mostly in the dialog. Miss Spitfire should be quite accessible to middle graders, though I wouldn't put any upper age limit on it. An afterword briefly recounts the remainder of Annie and Helen's lives, for those wondering "what happened next". There are also photos, a chronology, and references. This end matter provides excellent teaching material, both about Keller and Sullivan, and about how to write quality historical fiction in general.

Miss Spitfire is the ideal book to offer kids who enjoyed Hattie Big Sky, and are looking for more historical fiction. It's also a book for anyone who loves words, because it brings a fresh appreciation for the power of language to open up the world. Highly recommended for all ages.

Publisher: Atheneum
Publication Date: July 2007
Source of Book: A review copy from the publisher. Miss Spitfire is the readergirlz featured title of the month for December, and is on the nominated titles list for the 2007 Cybils award for Middle Grade Fiction.
Other Blog Reviews: Book Nut, Pinot and Prose, My Breakfast Platter, Emily Reads (a review Haiku), Bildungsroman, In the Pages, Ms. Yingling Reads, Kate's Book Blog, Semicolon, Interactive Reader, Fuse #8, Deliciously Clean Reads, and doubtless others
Interviews: Becky's Book Reviews, Deaf Characters in Adolescent Literature

Book: Olivia Kidney
Author: Ellen Potter
Illustrator: Peter H. Reynolds
Pages: 155
Age Range: 9 to 12

Olivia Kidney, written by Ellen Potter and illustrated by Peter H. Reynolds, is about a twelve-year-old girl who moves, with her inept building superintendent father, to a new apartment building. She starts out with a negative attitude about the place, but soon finds that her neighbors are much more than they seem. She visits an apartment made of glass (including a glass floor, perfect for spying on the apartment below), another that looks like a rain forest, and a third that resembles a farm. She encounters pirates, lizards, and seances, and possibly even ghosts.

To tell you the truth, I didn't quite know what to make of this book. It's well-written, with surprises around every corner. However, I couldn't get a good fix on the genre. The book is about a girl living with her father, dealing with problems in school, missing her absent older brother, and not feeling particularly happy. These are standard realistic fiction sorts of issues. Olivia Kidney quickly becomes surreal, however, when Olivia enters the room with the glass floor, and becomes ever more fantastic through the rest of the book. And yet, it doesn't feel like fantasy. It's not even completely clear if the unusual things are really happening, or if Olivia is hallucinating or imagining in some way (there are references to her being on medication and seeing a counselor). I found this disconcerting, though kids will probably take it in stride.

The other thing I had trouble getting a fix on was the target age range for the book. There's a cute pink cover (paperback edition) and occasional full-page illustrations. It's not all that long at 155 pages. Based on the outward appearance, I thought that Olivia Kidney was going to be a book for seven and eight-year-olds. But as I got further into the story I encountered brutal murders (recounted in a story within the story), and even an attempted murder of Olivia. There also some seriously creepy dolls. The bad things that happen are somewhat cartoonish, as violence goes, but I still think that they move the book up more to the nine to twelve year old range. If you can get the older kids to read this book, despite the pink cover and full page illustrations, at least.

Still, there's a lot to like about the Olivia Kidney. The various threads that Olivia experiences end up connecting in satisfying ways. Olivia's slightly pessimistic personality is appealing, and she's quite brave. There's a twist near the end that will delight readers who see it coming. Reynolds' illustrations add depth and humor.

Ellen Potter's writing is kid-friendly with just the right level of descriptive detail. For example:

"It was twenty-two stories high, and it contained some of the most awful people you'd ever want to meet. They crabbed up the elevators with their cold, unfriendly faces." (Page 1)

Don't you love that? "Crabbed up the elevators". How's that for an active, perfectly chosen verb? Or how about this:

"Olivia got out on the twelfth floor. It smelled of cooked onions. Over the years, Olivia had noticed that every floor in an apartment building had its own unique odor. In the last building she'd lived in, her floor smelled of old man's feet. Another floor she had lived on smelled like the juniors' department in Macy's." (Page 11)

How wonderful, the way she uses smell to add depth to Olivia's life in apartment buildings. Potter also includes dry humor, such as:

"Batty old thing, Olivia thought. She looked away and tried her best to ignore the woman. This became difficult as the batty old thing began to walk directly up to her. The woman's legs were bird-skinny. Her panty hose were sagging at her kneecaps and all around her ankles. Then Olivia saw that she wasn't wearing panty hose." (Page 15)

What kid won't snort with laughter over "she wasn't wearing panty hose"?

Olivia Kidney is much more than a fanciful tale of unusual people adventuring in an apartment building. It's also a keen character drama about a girl dealing with loss, and her relationship with her father. The book shines a light on friendship and self-discovery. And in parts, it's laugh-out-loud funny. I find it a bit tricky to know how to classify this book, in terms of both genre and age range. But I consider it worthwhile for people to figure that out, because this book has a lot of offer. There are several sequels, too, which I look forward to checking out.

Publisher: Penguin (Philomel/Puffin)
Publication Date: May 2003
Source of Book: Bought it
Other Blog Reviews: Bookshelves of Doom (where it was an Under the Radar recommendation. Leila's recommendation inspired me to read this book)

Book: Letters from Rapunzel
Author: Sara Lewis Holmes (blog)
Pages: 192
Age Range: 9-12

Letters from Rapunzel, by Sara Lewis Holmes, sounds like a fantasy title, and shows a picture of a girl with long blond hair dropping letters from a tower. However, it is actually about a very real girl who calls herself Rapunzel because she feels trapped in after-school Homework Club (because she's not quite old enough to stay home alone). Rapunzel's beloved father is in the hospital for depression, which she likens to an Evil Spell. Finding a scrap of a letter that her father has written to someone at a post office box, Rapunzel starts writing to this apparent friend of her father's, hoping that the person can help. The entire story is told in the form of Rapunzel's letters and stories.

Rapunzel is a complex and engaging character. She struggles with a nemesis named Andrew, resists pressure to join the Gifted and Talented program, and fights to save a historic bridge that's important to her father. Her intelligence and creativity shine through her letters, stories, and poems, as do her insecurities, need for stimulation, and sense of humor. Here is an example that shows Rapunzel's voice:

"My Mom's very concerned that I don't have any friends my age. I admit that I usually hang out with my dad or our neighbor, Mrs. Booth, who's sixty-seven. But can I help it if we haven't lived here that long -- and that everybody at my new school thinks I'm a geek because I can use the word "fortuitous" in a sentence?" (Page 15)

And here's one that shows her fears:

"The scariest thing I found out is that the Evil Spell runs in families. Like if somebody close to you has it, then your chances of being zapped by it are more than the average Joe-on-the-Street. That means me.

And it turns out that being smart doesn't help you either. Everyone thinks that smart people are happy, but it's not true. What's so happy about being able to see what's wrong all the time, and not having the power to fix it? What's so happy about feeling weird and different every day of your life? What's so happy about having gorgeous, superlative, wonderful hair (or a BRAIN) when you're kept in a tower?" (Page 61)

And her boredom with study hall (Homework Club):

"Okay. I'm so bored that I spent ten minutes watching the clock and saying "One Mississippi" each time the second hand clicked a space to see if time was mysteriously warped in this room like it is in Rapunzel's tower. But it's not. My hair and I are getting older at the exact same sluglike pace." (Page 104)

All in all, Rapunzel is a delight. I think that kids who are different in any way, especially kids who are different because they are easily distracted or bored in school, will relate to her. She feels real.

Letters from Rapunzel also tackles, in a highly accessible manner, the subject of clinical depression. Rapunzel's father is unable to be there to support his wife and child, leaving Rapunzel alone, worrying about her father as well as her own future. When he's under the Evil Spell, he can't function at all. Sara Lewis Holmes clearly has a real-world understanding of depression and it's impact on others (read more on her blog). For kids who have relatives struggling with the Evil Spell of depression, this book could be invaluable.

All in all, Letters from Rapunzel is a wonderful read for fourth through eighth graders, with an unusual storytelling method, and a unique and engaging voice. Although difficult subjects are covered, Rapunzel's breezy tone keeps the book feeling safe for the reader. Recommended for upper elementary and middle school kids, girls and boys. (Though I think that the title and cover might make it a stretch to get boys to read it). Letters from Rapunzel won the Ursula Nordstrom Fiction Contest.

Publisher: HarperCollins
Publication Date: February 2007
Source of Book: Bought it (so that I could get it signed at the Kidlitosphere Conference, where I did meet Sara, a blog friend of mine)
Other Blog Reviews: PixiePalace, Just Like the Nut, BooksForKidsBlog, Deliciously Clean Reads, Becky's Book Reviews, A Fuse #8 Production

Book: Me and the Pumpkin Queen
Author: Marlane Kennedy
Pages: 192
Age Range: 7-12

Happy Halloween! I have the perfect pumpkin-related book to tell you about today: Me and the Pumpkin Queen, by Marlane Kennedy. This book left me with a smile on my face, and a tiny tear in my eye. It's about a young girl who is obsessed with growing giant pumpkins. Mildred lives in the small town of Circleville, Ohio, where they have the annual Circleville Pumpkin Show, which more than 400,000 people attend each year. (This story is based on a real-world festival and contest, see here.) Mildred's mother died when she was six, leaving behind an unfulfilled desire to grow one of the giant pumpkins that people enter into the annual contest. Mildred, in an effort to please, or be closer to, her lost mother, decides to win the pumpkin contest herself. Here's the passage where Mildred first realizes her mission:

"Daddy must have been thinking the same thing 'cause he said, "Your mama sure got a kick out of those pumpkins. Every year she would say she wanted to try her hand at growing one." He paused, and then his voice trailed off kind of sadlike. "I guess she just never got around to it."

At that very moment those big pumpkins seemed magical." (Page 13)

4 1/2 years later, as the story begins, Mildred is still trying to grow that prize-winning pumpkin. Tending to her pumpkins consumes all of her spare time for six months out of the year (the amount of work required is truly astounding). Her busybody aunt thinks that she's obsessed, in an unhealthy sort of way. But Mildred's veterinarian father supports her in her efforts, as does her one friend, Jacob.

At its simplest, this is a sweet story about a girl trying to do something big and all-consuming as a way of coping with her grief over the loss of her mother. Mildred tends those pumpkins like they are her children, agonizing over them and loving them. It's impossible not to be moved by her.

But what makes the book a joy is Mildred's impish personality and oh-so-dry sense of humor. She'll say outrageous things in this dewy innocent voice, and this keeps the story well away from cloying. Mildred and her dad have to team up a bit against overbearing (though well-intentioned) Aunt Arlene. At eleven, Mildred sees her aunt clearly, and derives joy from teasing her. Here's a small example:

"After we are done eating, Aunt Arlene asks if I want to go anywhere else, since we are in Columbus.

"No, I have to go home and check on my pumpkin plant," I tell her.

I hear a very long sigh coming from Aunt Arlene, which I do my best to ignore. (Page 85)

Mildred is a kid who goes her own way, and doesn't let opposition or ridicule stop her. If anything, opposition causes her to dig in her heels until she gets what's important to her (in a non-bratty sort of way, as someone who is passionate about their beliefs, and utterly secure in her place in the world). Mildred's security comes from her father, who supports her and jokes with her and only occasionally allows himself to be steamrolled by his sister.

Mildred is not particularly interested in being popular with the other girls at school. She says things like:

"Gloria Mathis, the girl who plasters her notebooks with pictures of her actor crush, is a jabberbox, and not to be mean, but honestly, even though lots of girls hang on her every word, I can only stand a few minutes in her presence." (Page 35)

And this:

"The rest of the week at school most of the girls are nicer than usual to me. I think it's on account of my new wardrobe. But it's hard for me to act interested back at them. For one thing, I figure I gave them a chance way back when, and they really didn't want to get to know me. Truth be told, I think they still don't want to know the real me. Besides, all I can think about are my seeds. First thing I do when I get home every day is check on them." (Page 53)

What a little budding introvert. I love her country accent, too. Don't tell me you can't hear it, because I surely can.

One interesting thing about this book is the line that the author walks in talking about things like neutering of animals, birthing of calves, euthanizing of sick pets, and pollinating of plants. Mildred is the daughter of a vet, and a budding farmer in her own right. She is completely blase about things like neutering. I think that Kennedy does a nice job of making this part of Mildred's world, without getting into too much detail, or portraying anything that will be directly disturbing for younger readers.

All in all, this is an entertaining story, chock full of interesting information about the art of growing giant pumpkins. Me and the Pumpkin Queen positively brims over with heart and humor. Highly recommended for 7 to 12 years olds (though perhaps best suited to the earlier end of that scale), and especially for kids who have an interest in growing things. Although the main character is a girl, I think that the technical details about growing the pumpkins, the veterinary details, and Miriam's personality will appeal to boys, too. Highly recommended for children and parents.

Publisher: Greenwillow (HarperCollins)
Publication Date: July 2007
Source of Book: A review copy from the author
Other Blog Reviews: Read, Read, Read, A Year of Reading, 3Rs Reading Den
Author Interviews: Rose Kent at Classof2k7, Alice's CWIM Blog

Book: The Name of this Book is Secret
Author: Pseudonymous Bosch
Pages: 384
Age Range: 9-12

The Name of this Book is Secret by Pseudonymous Bosch is sure to appeal to fans of the Lemony Snicket books and The Mysterious Benedict Society. It's a mystery, aimed squarely at middle grade readers (accessible for boys and girls). It uses a narrative structure somewhat like that of the Series of Unfortunate Events books, in which the narrator speaks directly to the reader, and in fact warns the reader against reading the book. The first page has, in large text, "Warning: Do Not Read Beyond this Page!". When you turn the page (and who wouldn't?) you find this:

"Good.
Now I know I can trust you.
You're curious. You're brave. And you're not afraid to lead a life of crime.
But let's get something straight: if, despite my warning, you insist on reading this book, you can't hold me responsible for the consequences.
And, make no bones about it, this is a very dangerous book."

And so on. Chapter One is printed entirely in an unbreakable code (all x's). Not until Chapter 1.5 does the narrator relent, and begin the story. There are illustrations at the start of every chapter, occasional lists, frequent footnotes, codes, and embedded stories, not to mention investigative tips sprinkled throughout the text (as though the narrator might perhaps be a spy himself). The plot is complex and dark, with genuinely creepy bad guys, daring escapades, Circus performers, and certain Gothic elements.

The two main characters, Cass and Max-Ernest, are appealing. I especially enjoyed Max-Ernest, a boy who can't stop talking, and who lives in a literally split household between two parents who can't agree even to divorce (the situation is a bit Roald Dahl-esqe, I think). There's also a boy named Benjamin who is has synesthesia (he sees everything, including words, as colors and/or smells). He is rather intriguing. Also casually thrown in are a pair of surrogate grandfathers who live together (exact relationship undefined) in an old firehouse. Grandpa Larry and Grandpa Wayne care for Cass when her mother is unavailable.

I enjoyed the juxtaposition of the dark background against the throwaway humor of the narrator. I laughed out loud several times, especially at footnotes like these:

"... turn to the Appendix. That's at the end of the book, by the way, not in your body."  (Page 15)

"But please don't draw any conclusions about the kind of people who write novels. After all, not all novelists are power-hungry madmen -- some are power-hungry madwomen. (Page 127)

And yet... The book felt a bit constructed to me. Take the narrative style of the Lemony Snicket books, add in some codes and puzzles and a dash of quirky characters, and mix well. I still enjoyed it. I thought that the whole thing was well-done and creatively presented. The black and white illustrations set just the right tone for each chapter. I think that kids in the 9 to 12 range will find the book a lot of fun. The Name of this Book is Secret is an excellent next book to give kids who enjoyed The Mysterious Benedict Society. But I personally felt a tiny bit manipulated by the whole production. Not enough to keep me from giving the book to kids, and probably not enough to keep me from reading future books in what will apparently be a series, it's something that I noticed. I'll be interested to hear what other people think.

Note: after having finished this review, I just read Leila and Becky's reviews, both of whom, in generally positive reviews, mentioned the possibility of the book being considered "gimmicky". So I'm not alone in my mixed feelings.

Publisher: Little, Brown Young Readers
Publication Date: October 2007
Source of Book: A review copy from the publisher
Other Blog Reviews: Bookshelves of Doom, Becky's Book Reviews