From Cover to Cover

Your NeverEnding Story

2010-07-08T21:01:00.000-07:00

I have just finished my first day at LEEP (the on-campus portion of online learning program at the Graduate School of Library and Information Science at the University of Illinois at Champaign-Urbana) and I probably should be reading or studying. However, my mind cannot stop thinking about the experiences that I shared with my classmates today. Each person was given about 30 seconds to introduce him or herself, and in those 30 seconds, I learned that each person had a story that was unique and important. I believed this was true before I came to LEEP, but I never realized how varied and fascinating each person would be – and how much I can learn from each one. The ability to tell our own stories, to explain our decisions and journeys, gives us the power to make our lives extraordinary. As we head into the 1980s, a slew of Newbery winners and honor books celebrated the art of memoir, introducing young readers (and myself) to worlds unknown.
           A Gathering of Days: A New England Girl's Journal, 1830-1832 by Joan W. Blos rightly deserved to win of the 1980 Newbery Medal, grabbing the reader into the intricate world of 1830’s New Hampshire. It is narrated by Catherine Hall, a young teen whose resilience in dealing with death, responsibility, and politics. The issue of slavery comes to forefront when Catherine helps a runaway slave from freezing. (I particularly enjoyed the stance of her abolitionist schoolteacher and the ruckus he causes by speaking his mind.) While this is a fictionalized journal, the details are so rich, the characters so vivid, and the setting so real that after you finish it, you feel like you knew Catherine, and she may well has been your great-great-great grandmother somewhere. Unlike A Gathering of Days, which is based on historical research, The Road from Home: The Story of an Armenian Girl by David Kheridian, the Honor book for 1980, is the true story of his mother’s survival and faith after her family is killed by the Turks. I had no idea about this event in history and it was a wake-up call about the horrific destruction of the Armenian people and culture. Throughout it all, his mother finds reservoirs of strength to overcome set backs and danger and eventually finds a new home for herself.
           I was a little more familiar with the subject matter of Upon the Head of the Goat: A Childhood in Hungary 1939-1944 by Aranka Siegal, a 1982 Honor book, which describes an idyllic childhood that comes to an end with the Nazi invasion. And yet, while I know the historical facts and background, hearing an individual’s experience carried tremendous emotional weight. With unsparing attention to detail, Siegal describes the acceleration of persecution, while retaining a compassionate spirit and faith in humanity. I cannot fathom how Siegal retells her own story without anger and bitterness, but this novel proves that even when a person is made into a nonentity, there is an eternal part that can rise above.
           Homesick by Jean Fritz, a 1983 Honor book, documents her life as a child in China and her difficult return to the United States. Fritz intersperses historical information with her experiences of being a “foreign devil” in a country at the brink of revolution. As the big picture is revealed piece-by-piece, Fritz’s story is never slighted. She clearly shows how Fritz does belong to either world and her process to reconcile these two separate parts of herself. For anyone who has ever felt torn, Fritz lets us know that we are not alone. For me, the knowledge that someone else has had a similar emotional experience is the best part of reading memoirs. As unique as we think our reactions are, they really aren’t. Everyone gets overwhelmed, scared, unsure of themselves, and conflicted; and they also get excited, fascinated, inspired and hopeful. After hearing these various reactions today, I know that I am not alone. And neither is anyone else.

Heroic Contest

2010-05-11T08:05:00.000-07:00

In honor of finishing reading another decade's worth of Newbery winners, and due to the generosity of Barry Lyga, I have a free signed copy of Hero-Type by Barry Lyga to give away.

Here's the deal: To enter the drawing to win, just comment (and "Like" if you haven't already) on my Facebook page (From Cover to Cover with Eti) and write down the name of your favorite hero (super or otherwise) and why he/she deserves that title. If I pull your name from my metaphorical hat, I will mail you Hero-Type for FREE.

Here's a little information about Hero-Type to whet your appetite. Believe me, it will blow-your-mind.

Hero-Type

Maybe it's courage, the kind Kevin Ross (Kross to his friends) showed when he saved Leah Muldoon's life.
Maybe it's living with your own guilt so someone else doesn't have to...
Maybe it's the way Kross was in the right place at the right time...
Or the way he wouldn't back down when everything that mattered to him was called into question.
Maybe it's keeping your friends close--like the Council of Fools, a motley collection of goofballs and whacked-out teenage jesters--even when they don't really understand you.
Or maybe it's striving to do the right thing...
Or figure out what the right thing is in the first place.
Maybe it's trying to figure out how to live with a father who barely speaks, a father who guards a dark secret from his past.
Maybe it's all of this.
Or none of this.
Kross saved someone's life. Maybe that's enough to make him a hero, regardless of his own terrible secret.
Then again...
Maybe not.

You can download Chapter 1 from http://barrylyga.com/new/hero-type.html.

While you're there, check out the rest of Barry Lyga's books, including his newest book, Goth Girl Rising.

Up Where We Belong

2010-05-10T23:26:00.001-07:00

I am currently going through the stressful process of looking for a new apartment. More than anything else, not knowing where I am going to live fills me with fear and trepidation about the future. Choosing a place to live is loaded with so many careful considerations, from the quality of the neighbors, character of the neighborhood, and physical layout of the apartment, that making any choice feels extremely daunting. We spend our entire lives looking for a place to rest our heads, to find peace and security. Finding a place in the scheme of things, a place where we belong is not easy. Uncovering our true home is one of the greatest mysteries in our lives. The Westing Game by Ellen Raskin, winner of the 1979 Newbery Medal, and The Great Gilly Hopkins by Katherine Paterson, the 1979 Honor book, reveal, in very different ways, how facing the unknown can help people find their place in the universe.

The Westing Game is the ultimate mystery, probing readers from the first page to notice each detail of plot, character, and setting to discover who killed Sam Westing. People, who would otherwise be strangers, are paired together to play Westing's game to find his killer, and these partnerships yield surprising results. No one is who he or she really claims to be, and has plenty of skeletons in their closet to make them a suspect. However, this caper forces the characters to take stock of why they were selected to reside at Sunset Towers, a glitzy apartment building that faces Westing's home. Without spoiling the story, this experience changes the lives of all who play the game, especially for the winner, who catches a glimpse of future ambitions and learns how to cultivate them.

While the character in The Westing Game struggle with finding their place within the mystery, Galadrial Hopkins, or The Great Gilly Hopkins, has the challenge of finding a permanent home after a long string of foster homes. A wild, rambunctious, blunt child, she has yet to find foster parents that can truly understand (and manage) her. Gilly still holds out hope for her birth mother, Courtney, to rescue her from the system and sweep her away to a perfect home in California. No matter how welcoming Mrs. Trotter, her foster mother, is, Gilly prickles at her ministrations. She mocks her fellow foster child, William Earnest, for his mental deficits, and steals money from Mr. Randolph, an elderly Black neighbor who joins the family for meals. Using the stolen money, she buys a one-way ticket to San Fransisco. Her escape is foiled by the police, and she rejoins Trotter's family. This time, however, is different. She is given the choice to stay with Trotter until her mother contacts her, and decides to stay. Trotter assigns her chores to earn money to repay Mr. Randolph and Gilly learns what it means to be part of a family. She helps William Earnest with his schoolwork and teaches him to defend himself, takes care of their house, and nurses Trotter, William Earnest, and Mr. Randolph when they come down with the flu. Giving back to her caretaker and feeling needed transforms Gilly from a 'mean' flower into a blossoming rose. It is then when her past unexpectedly catches up with her and her dream of reuniting with her birth mother comes true. Gilly's story is, all at the same time, heartbreaking, humorous, insightful, and infuriating. Reading about Gilly reminded me of a wonderful program from PBS called This Emotional Life, and its segment of attachment in early life. They interviewed a family who had adopted a boy from Russia and were having difficulty dealing with his behavior and emotional issues. As a toddler, he had not formed strong attachments to his adult caregivers, who did not hold him when he cried or needed to be comforted. He learned from this that he could not trust or rely on adults, and as he grew up these early experiences "continued to influence how he behaves and felt about himself and others". Understanding their son in this context helped his parents deal with his behavior and get him the help he needed. I wonder if the Tennessee woman who shamefully sent back her 7 year old adopted son to Russia was aware of these common issues associated with orphans. This "throw-away" attitude directly contrasts with Trotter's feelings about Gilly. Although Gilly has attachment issues, steals, fights, and runs away, Trotter still wants to be her foster mother. Unconditional love like this is rare. Trotter does something even more exceptional. Not only does she accept Gilly back into her home, but she is willing, just as easily, to let Gilly go if it's the right thing for her. Experiencing this kind of selflessness can only mean that home is nearby.

>>> Another decade done, four more to go!>>>

Ice Ice Baby

2010-05-10T23:26:00.000-07:00

Some books have to be put in the freezer and only taken out at select occasions. Books like Little Women, the final book in the Harry Potter series, Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry by Mildred Taylor, winner of the 1977 Newbery Medal, and Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson, winner of the 1978 Newbery Medal, have to be shelved until the time is right. This is not because they are poorly written books, but on the contrary, they are so powerful that they can overwhelm us with their awesomeness. The emotional themes that they explore like growing up, racism, tolerance, loss, and grief are difficult to process and often provoke unsettling emotions. I finished re-reading both Newbery winners in public places and should have known better. While sitting in Starbucks, I downed my vanilla latte in a bout of tears. Yet, there was a catharsis in allowing myself to cry for the broken worlds within - and outside - these novels. Like Cassie, the narrator of Roll of Thunder, Hear my Cry, I cannot fathom how there can be so much hate in the world, and want to scream, "Does it have to be?!" (275). And like Jess in Bridge to Terabithia, I sometimes want to escape to a magical world of possibilities - even if it's only in my own mind. These books are so potent that I save the pleasure of reading them for times when I need to weep and let out my emotions. In the meantime, when I crave them, I have created a playlist for each of them to get me by. Share your suggestions for additional songs in the comments or on my Facebook page.

Roll of Thunder, Hear my Cry

We Shall Overcome covered by Bruce Springsteen
You've Got to Be Carefully Taught by Rodgers & Hammerstein
Where is the Love? by the Black Eyed Peas
This Land is My Land by Woody Guthrie
No Woman No Cry by Bob Marley
One Day by Matisyahu

Bridge to Terabithia

Free to be You and Me by Marlo Thomas and Friends
What a Wondeful World by Louis Armstrong
Broken Bridge by Daughter Darling
Bridge Over Troubled Waters by various artists (Simon and Garfunkel, Elvis, Eva Cassidy, Johnny Cash, and yes, Rockapella)
With a little Help from my Friends by the Beatles
Under the Bridge covered by Gym Glass Heroes

Free Lesson Plans
I had the opportunity to teach Bridge to Terabithia in sixth grade a couple years ago and now have the chance to share my resources with you. Click on the link below to access the Bridge to Terabithia Unit and feel free to contact me if you have any questions or suggestions.

Bridge to Terabithia Unit

Talking Like Claire (but not the crazy one)

2010-05-10T19:17:00.000-07:00

The first sign of my neurosis happened at my friend Chavie’s house. We were having lunch with her sister’s British in-laws, and enjoying each other’s company. I was helping to pass out food and after I asked them if they would like some potatoes, I realized too late that I had asked them this in a pseudo-British accent. I simply could not help mimicking their accents. This set up a chain of events where exposure to certain appealing stimuli (as in True Blood/Lost marathons) would provoke me to absorb the character’s accents. My friends should be grateful that Lost is almost over and I will stop talking like Claire soon. However, I have now moved on to the next big thing: Wales. Ever since high school, I have had an intense fascination with Welsh culture and history. The Grey King by Susan Cooper, winner of the 1976 Newbery Medal, and A String in the Harp by Nancy Bond, a Newbery Honor book for 1977, both rekindled my love for this wild, magical land, and yes, added a Welsh lilt to my voice.

The Grey King is the fourth of the five books in the Dark is Rising series. (The Dark is Rising, the second book in the series, was a Newbery Honor book in 1974.) Inspired by Welsh and Arthurian legends, the series depicts the epic struggle of good versus evil, championed by an ordinary boy named Will Stanton. Will is sent to Wales to recover from hepatitis and has lost all memory of his true destiny and identity. In Wales he meets Bran, an albino boy with a mysterious past and knowledge of the Light, the powers of good. Despite his instructions to rest and gather his strength, the forces of Darkness have other plans. Will must use his wits, magical powers, and new allies to overcome the Grey King. Vivid details about Welsh life, geography, and culture are sprinkled throughout the story to make the country come alive. While the story itself is a fantasy, the world of Wales, with its high-peaked mountains, roaming green hills, and flocks of sheep feel incredibly real and alluring.

Unlike my romantic notions of Wales, Wales represents endless freezing rain, sinking bogs, and tiny dreary villages to Peter Morgan in A String in the Harp. Peter resents being dragged away from his friends and home to spend a year in Wales while his father teaches at the University of Wales at Aberystwyth. He misses his mother terribly, who passed away suddenly, leaving her bewildered husband to cope with his three distraught children. Ten-year-old Becky, adapts easily to new life, as a natural people-person who is excited about new experiences. Her older sister, Jen, is in 10^th grade and stays in America, living with her Aunt Beth, until the semester is over. She, too, is open to the wonders of Wales. It is only when Peter finds a strange harp key by the sea that his attitude begins to change. The key is directly connected to the experiences of Taliesin, the master bard of Wales, who lived during the sixth century. When Peter touches the key, he watches Taliesin’s life unfold before him. Peter becomes obsessed with understanding Taliesin’s history and gradually loses interest in resisting Wales. The modern world and Taliesin’s world begin to blur, and Peter must act to set things right. At the same as Peter tries to fix what has been undone for Taliesin, his family gradually bridges the gaps between them. They learn to communicate and support each other. The most magical part of this story is their journey to become a family again. The process is arduous and complicated, but in the end, Peter realizes “that he was part of other people and they part of him and he was glad”. Like Taliesin, he becomes a string in the harp, part of something more, something beautiful.

I'll Remember

2010-05-10T19:16:00.000-07:00

When we find historical sites, a work of art, or a piece of literature, we understand our responsibility to do all we can to preserve these artifacts. They provide insight into the past that can be touched and measured, and become priceless. However, when an intangible part of the past, like a way of life or family heirloom, is at risk, it is much more difficult to recognize the necessity of saving it for the future. M.C. Higgins, the Great by Virginia Hamilton, winner of the 1975 Newbery Medal, and The Hundred Penny Box by Sharon Bell Mathis, a 1976 Honor book, explore the importance of protecting unique parts of the past.

M.C. Higgins lives with his family in the remote area in the hills of West Virginia, on what they call "Sarah's Mountain". According to their family tradition, M.C.'s great-grandmother, Sarah, escaped slavery to settle in the wilds of Virgina and his family has lived there ever since. Their way of life is threatened, however, by the huge pile of rubble from strip mining that rests precariously above their home. The wild world around the Higgin's family has been tainted by developers who have drained the natural resources, without a thought about the environmental impact. M.C. believes that it is inevitable that his family's home and way of life will be crushed by the mountain. It takes a visit by two strangers, particularly an attractive teenage girl, to shift M.C. from his defeatist notions. From Lurhetta Outlaw he learns to contradict his assumptions about what is possible, and he decides that he will fight to protect his family's home. His way of life is secured when he decides that it is worth saving.

The Hundred Penny Box is a book that says something big in a small way. Michael's Great-great-great-aunt Dew lives with him and his parents, and he shares a special connection with her. Aunt Dew often confuses Michael with his father, John, who Aunt Dew raised, but Michael doesn't mind. Aunt Dew owns a treasured possession, the hundred penny box, which contains a penny for each year of her life. This causes conflict with Michael's mother, who can't understand why a worn-out box of pennies is so important to Aunt Dew. Aunt Dew tells Michael that "when I lose my hundred penny box, I lose myself" (19). Embedded in each coin is a year of memories. Her memories are illustrated in abstract penny-colored paintings that vividly show the connection between pennies and memories. All Aunt Dew has to do is pick up the penny and she can see Reconstruction, birthing her twin boys, sewing dresses during the Great Depression, and John falling out from trees in Atlanta. The box itself has significance, as a gift from her late husband, Henry. The hundred penny box is not a thing to Aunt Dew; it is a part of her. She has had a rich and fulfilling life, and while she no longer has a home of her own, the hundred penny box is a testament to all that she experienced and endured. In this context, preserving the hundred penny box is of tantamount importance. Not only does the hundred penny box remind Aunt Dew of her life, it provides a beautiful opportunity for her to share the story of her life with her great-great-great nephew, who will continue to share her pennies long after she's gone.

Lost in the Library

2010-04-13T23:17:00.000-07:00

The best memories of my childhood didn’t happen on birthdays or holidays. They happened on Tax Rebate Day. On this day, my mother would arrive home carrying a large cardboard box, its flaps barely containing the treasures within. I would then pounce on the box and tear it open to grab what was inside, the most exciting gift possible: new books. Fanning the crisp pages, I would breathe in the faint smell of ink, paper, and dust. After reading the summaries on the book jackets, I would then carefully select my first read, curl up in a comfortable chair, and lose myself within the pages. Looking back, I realize that my appreciation for books stemmed from my mother making reading a priority despite our strained financial situation. Even after Tax Rebate Day, my mother would make time during her busy work schedule to bring me to the local public library and wait patiently while I made the impossible choice of deciding which books to borrow. I never wanted to leave the library. I walked inside and I was home, surrounded by familiar faces and friends. In the library I could be completely myself, a nerdy, inquisitive, and ambitious girl, who didn’t quite fit into my conservative community. Libraries served as a gateway to new worlds, and continue to act as ‘wardrobes’ to amazing possibilities.

In our time of economic crisis, libraries are under attack as “luxuries” and “expendable” parts of our society. This could not be further from the truth. Library usage increases exponentially when people are suffering financially. More than offering excellent resources for job seekers, libraries provide a warm, calming space to gather one’s strength and face the world. As I look at the tableau of human life at my library, I spy young mothers with their excited children, vocal teenagers, elderly people, and shy hipsters. Each has come to the library for a different purpose, and yet, the library will fit their needs. This week (April 11-17) is National Library Week, and it should give us pause to consider how our lives are enriched by libraries and librarians. I visit my local library, the Northtown branch of Chicago Public Libraries, at least once a week. Sometimes I go there more often than Jewel (gasp!). I asked my friends on Facebook to offer suggestions of how to show my appreciation for these librarians, which included books, drugs, action figures, and an assortment of cheese. The best (and most practical) advice came from Laurie Halse Anderson, author of Speak, Chains, and Wintergirls. She said to send “a copy of the letter you send to local and state officials explaining how much you appreciate the work of that librarian, and how pleased you are that taxpayer dollars provide such a great community benefit. That, and flowers." I plan on doing just that, and including chocolate to add a personal touch. Whatever you do to recognize your local librarian, it’s time to show our support and gratitude.

Other suggestions to show your appreciation:

1. Simply tell them thank you and how much you appreciate their hard work.

2. Donate books to your local library.

3. Write a thank-you note to the person (parent, guardian, friend) who encouraged you to use the library.

4. Create a homemade card, poster, or bookmark.

5. Participate in events at your library.

Comic Book Tattoo

2010-04-08T20:08:00.000-07:00

A rabbi once told my friend Shayna that comic books were the devil. Without reading a single page or glancing at the artwork, he judged the entire institution of comics as inherently flawed and harmful to innocent young minds. While some comics may fit this specific category, many comics and graphic novels are hardly bastions of sin and destruction. On the contrary, comics can capture our imagination and expose us to worlds unknown.

The power of comics is clearly seen in the reemergence of young adult literacy. When I was student teaching, my students would spend recess (and other times too) swapping copies of Fruit Basket and other Manga comics, excited to share the characters' continued adventures. Bored with all other reading material, they found kindred spirits in the comics. In this environment I had the arduous task of teaching The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien, his lesser work, but harder to grasp than the Lord of the Rings trilogy. Trying to find ways to make Middle Earth, magic, and rings relevant to my students was difficult. Even after I included music, performances, and art into the lessons, the students struggled with understanding Tolkien's fantastic world. Only after I finished student teaching did I discover a graphic novel version of The Hobbit that would have engaged my highly visual students and helped them understand the text. Those who are opposed to comics argue that graphic novels 'dumb down' the content and take away the students' participation from imagining the world within the novels. However, this is what makes comics and graphic novels stand out from filmed adaptations of literature. While comics give readers clarity, the readers are still required to actively read it and fill in gaps with their imagination. Due to the structure of graphic novels, artists may use more abstract styles to draw characters, setting, or action, which allow students to expand upon the artists' work with their own minds. Instead of being limited by the specific panels of the story, students imagine the world that expands beyond the boundaries of the pages.

I experienced this feeling when I read Volume I of the Twilight graphic novel. I admit that I had my hesitations, and wondered why the Twilight oeuvre needed another contribution. However, I was blown away by the results. The finished product is breathtakingly beautiful and each page stands out as its own work of art. Young Kim, the artist and adapter of Twilight, is a master of design, color, and content. Illustrated in mostly black and white, Kim deliberately includes color to evoke subtle emotional responses. As Bella leaves Arizona, the pages fade from a warm sepia to a stark black and white. When Edward finally reveals himself to her, the setting is bathed in lovely green and gold, sparkling with sunlight and possibilities. In Wizard of Oz fashion, Bella and Edward are made technicolor by his confession. Stephanie Meyer wrote in the introduction that the "art made [Twilight] fresh again" and I couldn't agree more. After reading it, I nostalgically remembered my first taste of Twilight and wanted to rediscover this captivating world. It made me want to reread the entire series.

This desire counters the argument that graphic novels cause us to lose sight of the original pieces and make us lazy. I think that reading adaptations reveals new layers of the original piece and inspires people to reread them. I just read Tim Hamilton adaptation of Ray Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451, a gorgeous and provocative retelling of the classic, and a tongue in cheek reminder of the message of the text. (Interestingly, in the original book, Bradbury wrote "No wonder books stopped selling, the critics said. But the public, knowing what it wanted, spinning happily, let the comic books survive.") After I read it, I wanted to know more, to read the original and get deeper into Montag's mind and emotions. Bradbury's fears that television and mass media would eliminate readership may have come to pass, but graphic novels like this one prove that thoughtful, critical readers still exist.

No discussion about graphic novels would be complete without mentioning master storyteller, Barry Lyga, who branched out from writing comics to writing about comics. The action in his novel The Astonishing Adventures of Fanboy and Goth Girl centers around Donnie, aka Fanboy, who secretly works on a complex graphic novel called Schemata in the hopes that publishing it will free him from his 'so-called' life. This isn't melodramatic; Fanboy has plenty of challenges including divorce, a step-father, pregnant mother, and bullies. It is only when he meets Kyra, aka Goth Girl, a brash, fearless, sarcastic girl who encourages his art, that his situation begins to shift. In the sequel, Goth Girl Rising, the reader gets to know Kyra better, especially in her emotionally charged letters to Neil Gaiman, author of the Sandman comics, a must-read for any true fan. Throughout both novels, Schemata is central to the plot and development of the characters. As Donnie and Kyra change, so does Schemata. Not only do the novels themselves read like comics, with the reader desperate to read the next page, but Barry Lyga and Jim Di Bartolo created a series of comic strips called "Goth Girl Follies" for those of us who can't get enough of our favorite cynic. (Believe me, once you read Goth Girl Rising, you will want to be Kyra!) These comic strips enhance what is already an incredible novel, and yeah, they're also funny. Click on the comic strips to enlarge them and check out the rest of the "Goth Girl Follies".

* This is my favorite one - for obvious reasons.

It's not really YA literature, but I couldn't pass up an opportunity to mention Comic Book Tattoo, a collection of comics from some of the most talented artists based on songs by Tori Amos. Each interpretation reminds me of why her music resonates with me and inspires me to create my own art.

John Green and David Levithan Book Tour

2010-04-07T22:05:00.001-07:00

No matter how many times I tell myself to be cool, my heart still races. I rack my brain to come up with a clever, memorable comment - something that will make them laugh or at least smirk. Hell, I'd pay hard cash for a chortle. But, alas, I regress into a child with the eloquence of a bowl of Jello. Does this happen to you when you meet your favorite authors? It seems impossible to convey much they have impacted my life without sounding cheesy, cliche, or creepy. Still, I can't be the only one who feels so deeply without being a disturbed stalker or Twilighter. The event that provoked this intense emotion was my visit with my friend Adriane to the Belmont Theatre Building (thanks to the Book Cellar) to see David Levithan and John Green discuss their latest book, Will Grayson, Will Grayson.

The book is written in alternating chapters from the perspective of two teens named Will Grayson who undergo parallel processes. Rather than offering the standard reading, they performed a reader's theater version of John's chapter and then David's chapter. Both were incredibly witty and humorous, while exploring deeper themes, just like the rest of their books. The highlight of the experience was the Q&A session when they discussed their craft, influences, experiences, and reasons for writing - all in a completely non-pretentious way. They exuded humility, and gratitude to all those who supported them. As they spoke, I remembered half-born stories that I had put aside and felt inspiration stirring. They made me want to work on my writing and bring my stories to life. Moreover, they remind me why I am obsessed with them in the first place. Their work speaks to my soul - to the possibilities that have yet to linger and the strings that are broken. They make me dream of an endless night that will transform me forever, and an epic road trip to a fictional city. My perspective on life has been enriched by their work, both by exposure to enlightening ideas and the affirmation that I am not alone in my nerdy, inquisitive ways. I wish there was a way to express my appreciation that didn't sound so much like lyrics to Wind Beneath My Wings. Still, I know they will understand if the words come out wrong or garbled. They understand the human condition of supreme awkwardness. While I may not have declared my adoration in iambic pentameter, I told them how glad I was to meet them and John Green liked my name. And that's got to count for something.

* Sorry for the pictures' blurriness. I tried to take a picture when other people were filming too, but it didn't quite work as expected.

If you look closely towards the back and to the left, you will see Adriane and me saying "Good morning, Hank!" in John Green's Vlogbrothers video for Monday. Click on the video below to see it.

True Colors

2010-02-06T22:30:00.001-08:00

I'm watching Arranged, a movie about an unlikely friendship between an Orthodox Jewish woman and a religious Muslim woman that develops as they navigate their way through arranged marriages. As I watch, I am captivated by the natural ease of their friendship and the common ground they find in each other. But the part I love about this film is the absolute reality it captures. I have met the bossy Shadchan, who pushes 'girls' to go out on dates with incompatible 'boys'. I have met parents who want the best for their daughter, but push her away in the process. And I have met Rochels, women who are frustrated by the Shidduch system and don't want to settle for Mr. Available. This attention to detail gives this film its authenticity and makes it believable. The director/writer of Arranged may not be an Orthodox Jew (or religious Muslim) himself, but with careful research, and the watchful eye of Yuta Silverman, the inspiration behind the project, Arranged captures the essence of hidden worlds with sensitivity and insight.

However, films like Arranged, A Price Above Rubies, and A Stranger Among Us, to name a few, raise difficult questions about depicting Orthodox Jews in mainstream media. These kinds of films are often critiqued for their inaccurate or unfairly critical portrayal of Jews, and for airing our "dirty laundry" in public. (Frankly, you don’t need to watch movies to see the worst in the Jewish community – just read the New York Times or Google "New Jersey, rabbi".) Literature written in the Orthodox Jewish community does not fill this void. Characters are flat representations of goodness and humility, plots are cliché and bland, and the writing style is horrendous. The community does not allow for flawed and human characters who are real and vibrant, and Jewish writers who dare to write about these pressing issues are criticized for being self-hating Jews. The joke, however, is on the Jewish community. Writers like Tova Mervis, Etgar Keret, and of course, Shalom Auslander, write with such keen understanding that must stem from their own Jewish identities, combined with a love of humanity. This brings us to the question of today's blog: How much depends on an insider's perspective or can compelling realistic fiction be written by outsiders? Do writers lose credibility when they are "others?" Or is it another kind of censorship to hold writers back from telling stories that are important to them, ones they might not have experienced themselves? How many moccasins must we walk in to really understand another person's culture and write about it convincingly? The winners of the 1973-74 Newbery Medals are both women who wrote powerful fiction about cultures unlike their own, and opened up questions about the nature of multicultural literature.

Julie of the Wolves by Jean Craighead George, winner of the 1973 Newbery Medal, developed from George's own connection to nature, relationship with an Inuit woman, and communication with actual wolves. In her novel, she tells the story of Julie, a young woman who runs away to the Alaskan tundra to escape a miserable marriage. When I read this book as a child, I was outraged by the child-marriage that Julie endures, but as an adult, I was more affected by the message of the loss of the indigenous Inuit people, whose rich culture is at risk when exposed to gussak, or American, ways. While not Inuit herself, George is an advocate for treasuring their way of life and believes in many of the same values. Like Julie, she has a deep love and reverence for nature, a strong understanding of animals' habits and behavior, and an appreciation of the old ways of Eskimo life. While "the hour of the wolf and the Eskimo is over," by writing about their timeless culture, George has exposed generations of children and adults to a world whose story may have otherwise gone untold.

The Slave Dancer by Paula Fox, winner of the 1974 Newbery Medal, may have opened the discussion of the horrors of slavery in children's literature. While Amos Fortune, Free Man (1951 Newbery Medal winner) and I, Juan de Pareja (1966 Newbery Medal winner) touched upon this issue, their experiences with benevolent masters in (somewhat) comfortable settings did not depict the inhuman conditions on slave ships like Fox does. While some critics praise her frank portrayal of slavery, others find faults in her work. Fox has been criticized by black author Sharon Bell Mathis in the journal Interracial Books for Children for promoting “stereoptyoes about Africa and about Blacks in general.” Again, an author's own life can giver her credibility to write about a culture different from her own. As a child, Fox was passed from relative to relative after being rejected by her mother. Her childhood gave her firsthand understanding of abandonment, isolation, and loneliness. She then took all of her struggles and make them into art. Rather than sugarcoating the past, she exposed children to the truth, allowing them to see America at its worst and come to their own conclusions about slavery. Like Jessie, the narrator, who loses his ability to listen to music after being forced to make the slaves dance while playing his flute, our innocence - our childhood music - is lost when we are confronted with the harsh reality that we are all infected by the poison of slavery. Whether you are a fan of Fox or not, there is no denying that The Slave Dancer was part of the movement that opened the floodgates to create a culture of open dialogue about race in America. Works like Roll of Thunder, Hear my Cry by Mildred D. Taylor (winner of the 1977 Newbery Medal), The Watsons Go to Birmingham: 1963 by Christopher Paul Curtis (1996 Honor Book), and Show Way by Jacqueline Woodson (2006 Honor Book) are testaments that the conversation continues to evolve as we discuss race.

The Real World

2010-02-06T22:22:00.002-08:00

I am always the last to know about trends. I was wearing day-glow and scrunchies as flannel and frowns became popular. I started to take care of a Tamagotchi, an electronic pet that I had to feed and walk, as most of my friends let their pets fade away with dignity. I am currently on the second season of Lost (after starting the show three days ago) and I feel like I am the last to know about this "must-see" show. One trend I regret missing was the emergence of realistic coming of age stories in the late 60s and 70s. Books like The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton (1967), Are You There, God? It's Me, Margaret by Judy Blume (1970), and Summer of the Swans by Betsy Byars, winner of the 1971 Newbery Award, are unrepentant in their accurate portrayal of young adults. And it has become more than a trend; it is become a staple of young adult literature*.

Sara Godfrey's moods are like a summer storm, calm one moment, turbulent the next. Anyone can relate to the seesaw of emotion that she experiences. Not only does Sara have to compete with her perfect and beautiful sister, Wanda, sidestep her Aunt Willie's overbearing demands and ministrations, bear the responsibility for her younger brother, Charlie, who has special needs, but she has to bear the weight of everything changing. Sara is full of "discontent, an anger about herself, her life, her family" (46). She has yet to come into her own and learn to accept her tall, skinny body, quirky personality, and place in the universe. It is no wonder that Sara is fascinated with the visiting swans, who represent a bright future where she sees herself as beautiful and content. Only after Charlie gets lost and she finds an unlikely ally does Sara realize her value and knows that she will weather the shaky steps of her adolescence. I love how Sara is irrational and temperamental and thoughtful and whimsical - all at the same time. She feels so familiar, so true, as though she could be any of us when we were teenagers. Her relationship with Charlie is also particularly poignant. This books stands out as a forerunner of quality literature about children with special needs. Just as Sara's adolescent angst is raw and unflinching, the issue of Charlie being "retarded" (the book's wording - it was published before the proper terminology was refined) is addressed from many angles, making Charlie a well-rounded character. The people who mistreat Charlie for being different are part of the cast of characters, as well as those who can see beyond the surface. However, Sara and the other characters who value differences are the ones whose influence will be felt long after I read the last page of the book.

As long as we're on the topic of literature about children with special needs, I want to recommend some excellent books that deal with the subject.

The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time by Mark Haddon

Rules by Cynthia Lord

Anything But Typical by Nora Raleigh Baskin

* Modern writers like Alex Flinn, Barry Lyga, and David Levithan (some of my favorite writers) excel at writing about teenagers as they are, unafraid to deal with sensitive and difficult issues.

Somebody's Hero

2010-02-06T22:22:00.001-08:00

You can talk to me about pixels and graphics and color, but Disney/Pixar are not geniuses because of how their movies look. They are geniuses because of what their movies say. Time and again they create fully formed characters that defy expectations and become heroes. This method is particularly poignant in Up, the story of an curmudgeonly old man who has spent his life dreaming of adventure without experiencing it. In his twilight years he is finally able to break free (literally) and seek his dream. He is an unlikely hero, but that is what makes him likable and interesting to watch. Furthermore, the message that he represents – that anyone can be a hero – captivates and inspires us. Sounder by William H. Armstrong, winner of the 1970 Newbery Medal, and Ms. Frisby and the Rats of NIHM, winner of the 1972 Newbery Medal, both focus on atypical heroes who triumph against adversity.

Sounder takes place in a rural South reminiscent of William Faulkner’s work. Sounder is a faithful coon dog who worships his master. When his master is arrested for stealing food to feed his family, Sounder chases after the police wagon, only to be shot for his trouble. His wound should be fatal, but Sounder is resilient and survives. His endurance gives his master’s son strength to carry on like him. The boy starts a journey to find his father, who has been taken to do hard labor for his “crime”, and he carries the memory of Sounder with him wherever he goes. In the process of looking for his father, he “accomplishes one wonderful thing” (82); he learns to read. Reading opens new worlds to him and comforts him during difficult times. Throughout his journeys, he realizes that “ain’t nobody else gonna walk it for you; you gotta walk it by yourself” (115). Sounder has inspired him to try by his heroic act of survival, but the boy was the one who had to take the steps himself.

Like Sounder, Mrs. Frisby struggles just to survive. She is a field mouse who would do anything for her children. When her son, Timothy, catches pneumonia and his life is in peril, she enlists the help of the owl, her natural enemy. He directs her to ask the rats for help, which leads to a series of events that put her life at risk. Mrs. Frisby is a unique heroine in children’s literature. She is not an ingénue or a warrior; she is a mother. Her priority is her children and she is willing to face her deepest fears to protect them. Her heroism lies in extraordinary acts she performs as an ordinary field mouse. Unlike the rats, she does not have enhanced intelligence or reflexes. Instead she has a parent’s love and dedication for her children, and that is what saves them.

Rest in Peace, J.D. Salinger

2010-01-30T17:06:00.000-08:00

This week marked the passing of J.D. Salinger, one the greatest modern writers. From his novel, Franny and Zooey to his short story, "To Esmé with Love and Squalor" (whose Esmé is the namesake for Esmé Raji Codell, famed author, Readiologist, and one of my favorite people in the world), Salinger remains a master of the English language. However, his greatest accomplishment lies in the creation of my boyfriend, Holden Caulfield, the protagonist of The Catcher in the Rye. For me, Holden was a kindred spirit who saw through the illusory skin of society to recognize the phoniness within. Rather than conforming to the "norms" of insincere conversations, false religion, and loveless relationships, Holden questions everything and remains himself. His ambition lies in being "the catcher in the rye," the one who saves children from falling off cliffs- and he has succeeded beyond his wildest dreams. His dysfunctional and frazzled example has given me the strength to accept my own journey and reject those who would push me off (metaphorical) cliffs. Like me, generations of young adults have found comfort in knowing that we are not alone in our struggles. Salinger has given us the language to express ourselves, to say "Fuck you" and mean it. His legacy is alive in all who decide to forgo phoniness for something genuine.

I have pasted an amazing poem from David Levithan's brilliant book, The Realm of Possibility, which captures the intensity of our relationships with Holden. Feel free to share your own experiences with Salinger below.

My girlfriend is in love with Holden Caulfield by David Levithan

My girfriend is in love with Holden Caulfield
and it is driving me CRAZY. She has read that book
thirteen times, which is about eleven more times than
she’s bothered to read me. Everything she sees now
is PHONY. Starbucks is PHONY. Our teachers are
PHONY. Society is PHONY. And love – well, love
is the phoniest of all. At first I tried real hard
to argue, but that made me one of THEM and not
HIM. She tells me he is sweet because he wants
to stop all of the little children from running off
a cliff. And I say can you possibly think of a situation
where a group of children would be running towards
a cliff? And she says I just DON’T GET IT. Which
is her way of saying she just doesn’t get me, and how
I can get everything so wrong. Not like Holden,
who would be like seventy years old right now, but
is frozen at this age that I can’t wait to leave. She says
she misses being a kid, just like Holden misses riding
the carousel. But what’s going to stop us from getting on
the carousel, from sledding at midnight, from candy
and crushes? Just because we’re having sex doesn’t mean
we can’t kiss. Holden is a failure with girls, and my girlfriend
says that’s because he hasn’t met the right girl, one who’d
UNDERSTAND him. She says this the same night we
argue for an hour about the fact that I always say “I love you”
before she does. I leave the room to sneak us some drinks
and when I get back she has THE BOOK out, read so often that
it’s spineless. Whoever made the cover blank knew
what he was doing, because what image of Holden could be
stronger than the picture in my girlfriend’s head?
We’ve been going out for five months now, sleeping
together for two, fighting over who loves who
for one. I used to love that she could love
a book so much. It was her first present to me.
I told her I loved it, when what I really meant was I loved
that it was from her. Then I made the mistake of
CRITICIZING. I said that Holden seemed pretty sad.
And she said, yeah, that’s because his brother died,
and I said it wasn’t just that kind of sad. She said maybe
it took a certain kind of person to see the truth
in it, and because I loved her even then, I said she was
right. But the more I thought about it, the more I thought
less of it, and the more I thought less of it, the more she
thought less of me. And I began to think less of her
for thinking less of me. If I took up with hookers,
if I drank my daddy’s money away, if I ridiculed everyone,
it wouldn’t be charming. She wouldn’t love that
in me. And, yes, Holden would keep those kids from
falling off the cliff, but WHO WOULDN’T? Does she think
I would just fold my arms, give them a pat on the back before they
sailed headfirst to the ground? We are all catchers, and it’s sad
that she doesn’t see it. Instead she sees the PHONINESS,
she deplores the world even after I point out that
I am in it. If she were running through the rye, if she
were headed toward that abyss, I would grab hold
with every ounce of my strength, with every scared beat
of my heart, with every thought that could only be for her.
And if I were to be running the same way, I’d like to think
she’d do the same. But maybe her hands would be busy
holding the book. Maybe she wouldn’t see me, too intent
on looking for Phoebe from the carousel. Or waiting for Holden
to hold her, to wrap her in the pages of his arms,
to say she was the only one who truly knew him, as I
plunged past her, sad to be leaving, and a little
happy to be away.

Amazing Grace

2010-01-09T15:59:00.001-08:00

I found religion when I was in middle school. Correction: I didn't find it, I created it. I developed an intricate method of worship, including holidays and songs, dedicated to the world of Lloyd Alexander's Prydain Chronicles. (The Black Cauldron, the second book in the Chronicles, was a Newbery Honor winner in 1966, and The High King, the final book in the Chronicles, won the Newbery Medal for 1969.) This fantastic world of magic, assistant pig-keepers, and princesses seemed much more real than my world of report cards, mean girls, and custody issues. As I struggled to find my place in the world, I found comfort in knowing that Taran and Eilonwy had gone through their own rites of passage, and emerged stronger and better for them. When I sang to the characters (and I did understand that they were characters and not real people - I'm not crazy), I discovered the values that I wanted to cultivate in myself. To this day, I think of pent up resentment as "the black beast," wisdom as the highest achievement, and music (particularly harp playing) as the bearer of truth. Rereading the Prydain Chronicles as an adult has made me aware of how different I am from that shy adolescent who craved the certainty of an imaginary world. While the Prydain Chronicles filled an important void in my life, and I will always consider them some of my favorite books, I no longer need them to give me faith. Like Taran, I have gained wisdom with age and discovered that the only lasting faith is that which comes from within. And that is the best kind of magic.

Another decade down >>>> Many more to go!

Runaway Train

2010-01-09T15:58:00.003-08:00

I ran away when I was ten years old. I packed up my color-changing tea set, a change of clothes, and three or four of my favorite books in my faded yellow suitcase that I clicked shut with a satisfying snap. I wrote a melodramatic note about being too sad to stay at home and walked out the door. I was found within minutes, and the consequences of my actions led to many fun therapy sessions. For this reason, I opened From the Mixed Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler by E.L. Konigsburg, winner of the 1968 Newbery Medal, with both excitement and trepidation. Unlike me, Claudia had a detailed plan of escape that had more to do with having an adventure (and liberation from the patriarchal mores of her large family that confined her, the only girl, to the kitchen), than a deep-seeded sadness. As I read it, I found myself opening up to the possibility to the lightness of this situation, and let go of the baggage of my own runaway train.

Claudia, and her younger brother, Jamie, do what we only dream of doing: they run away and live in the Metropolitan Museum of History in New York City. Each child complements the other; Claudia supplies the methodical planning and foresight, while Jamie provides the cash and complications. In the midst of their elaborate plan to learn as much as they can from the museum, they encounter a mystery that captivates their interest. A small figurine from the Renaissance, which resembles an angel, has been purchased by the museum and the children are determined find out if Michelangelo really created it. Claudia and Jamie are self-reliant and clever, and use their individual skills to uncover the truth. Claudia is single-minded in her focus to solve the mystery when she tells Jamie, "I don't want to come home the same" (98). For Claudia, going home before finding out about Angel won't change her life or how she perceives herself. The act of running away becomes less about how her family treats her, and more about what she can accomplish. Claudia, unlike other children, is running towards a goal. Her behavior reminds me of the following verse from "No More" from Steven Sondheim's Into the Woods:

Running away- go to it.
Where did you have in mind?
Have to take care:
Unless there's a "where,"
You'll only be wandering blind.
Just more questions.
Different kind.

Claudia's persistence keeps her moving towards her dream, and the eventual revelation about Angel from Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler herself. While my escape held no destination, Claudia always knows where she is going, and how to get there. For her, the train is not running away; she is the conductor.

How Many Roads Must a Man Cross Before You Call Him a Man? Four!

2010-01-09T15:58:00.001-08:00

How do we know we're grown up, that we've made it past the awkward and angst-ridden dilemmas of our childhood, and can move on to a peaceful existence as functional adults? Does it happen when we find apartments in the big city and furnish it with one-of-a-kind items from Pottery Barn and Ikea? Does it happen when our parents treat us like equals and feel comfortable blowing us off after a hard day? Is the change from a child to an adult so subtle that only in retrospect can we pinpoint our rites of passage? Growing up isn't easy, but Up a Road Slowly by Irene Hunt, winner of the 1967 Newbery Medal, comforts us by showing that we are not alone in our awkward transitions.

Up a Road Slowly chronicles the development of Julie Trelling from a capricious seven-year old to a refined seventeen year old woman, at the brink of her bright future. Julie's childhood is hardly typical; she is sent to be raised by Aunt Cordelia, a spinster school teacher, after her mother dies suddenly. Under Aunt Cordlia's tutelage, Julie learns more than reading, writing, and arithmetic. She learns to accept people who are different from her, value hard work and determination, and understand her own heart and mind. Julie has her share of mistakes and frustrations, but each experience helps her develop the person she is becoming. When Julie finally has the opportunity to return home to her father and new stepmother, as she starts high school, she makes the decision to stay with Aunt Cordelia which changes her life forever. While staying with Aunt Cordelia, she suffers the pangs of first love with Brett Kingsman and the "completeness" of true love with Danny Trevort. According to Aunt Cordelia, "a woman is never completely developed until she has loved a man," (98) and while my feminist sensibilities balk at this idea, Julie's relationship with Danny does help bring out the best parts of her. While Brett manipulated and scorned her, Danny helps her become a "kinder and gentler" person (153) with his love. Julie's story is hardly done at the end of the novel. As Aunt Cordelia says, "one never stops climbing . . . unless he wants to stop and vegetate. There's always something just ahead" (180). For Julie, the future holds college, marriage, a writing career, and many more wonderful things. Julie, like the rest of us, is a work in progress, and like her, our journey has just begun.

Painting of a Painting

2009-12-31T19:42:00.000-08:00

When I look at a painting, hear a song, or watch a play, my mind strays to think about the process that the creator took to develop the piece. Within the hidden world of artists, I wonder how exactly do they tick and what makes me similar or different from them. Do they have the entire idea formulated before placing one stroke on the canvas or is their work more spontaneous? Do they write lyrics before the melody or are they written simultaneously? Do actors become the character they are pretending to be, or are the characters just their real selves with specific lines to say? Some of my favorite books like I Capture the Castle by Dodie Smith and Ballad by Maggie Stiefvater grapple with these ideas and helped me gain more clarity about myself as a struggling artist. I, Juan de Pareja by Elizabeth Borten de Trevino, winner of the 1966 Newbery Medal similarly exposes the hidden world of artists and their motivations.

I, Juan de Pareja is set in early seventeenth century Spain and tells the true story of Juan de Pareja, a slave owned by painter Diego Velázquez. Juan shares an insider's look into his master's workshop and artistic process as he narrates his varied experiences with his master. While Velázquez is portrayed as a kindly, indulgent master, Juan is forbidden his heart's desire. He is forbidden by law to paint, to bring the images in his head to life. However, Juan cannot control his craving for self-expression and steals away to scribble. His conscience is racked with good Christian guilt at his transgressions and he yearns for forgiveness. Throughout his years of service to his master, he earns the right to create - a right which should never be taken away from any human being, even when repressive governments are threatened by free thought and artistic expression. This novel taps into the essence of what it means to be free. When we are truly free, we have the ability to express our thoughts - to paint, write, sing, act. But when we are enslaved - either externally or internally - we are blocked and cannot create. From Juan de Pareja's example, we learn that art can not only create beauty, it can set us free.

That's Bull!

2009-12-31T19:40:00.000-08:00

I used to be a vegetarian. I have pictures of endangered dolphins and whales decorating the walls of my office. My make-up was not tested on animals. I am a card-carrying member of PETA. (Okay, I get their monthly magazine for free – but I don’t throw it out; I recycle it.) All of my animal instincts made me defensive as I read Shadow of a Bull by Maia Wojciechowska, winner of the 1965 Newbery Medal, the story of a Manolo Olivar, a young man who lives in the shadow of his father, a famous bullfighter who died in the arena. In order to prove himself as a man, he must confront and kill a bull, but he has no dreams of fame and blood. Instead, he wants to fight on the side of life and become a doctor. Manola must find the courage to find his own path in a community who only sees him as his father’s son. The rite of passage of killing a bull seems both profound and unnecessary, and it is difficult to tell where Wojciechowska stands on the subject of animal cruelty. On one hand, murdering bulls seems honorable since “that’s how he’d choose his death if he had a chance to choose, in hot blood and not in a miserable slaughterhouse” (27). Apparently, the bravery of bulls prevents them from feeling the pain of death because “by the time it begins to hurt, he will no longer be able to feel anything” (34). At the same time, Wojciechowska shows the wasted lives of bullfighters who pursue the sport to their detriment. Healthy men are gored to death by their single-minded concept of honor. In the end, Manola makes his own choice to give up the honor of the fight to his friend, Juan, who has the aficion, the passion for bullfighting. Yet, Manola still sees “much beauty in the sight of the yellow sand” of the arena, even as he leaves it to study medicine. Wojciechowska sees beauty in the dance of life and death, when it is actually murder masquerading as entertainment. While she offers both perspectives, it is clear that she supports the lifestyle of bullfighters, and for that, this book is tainted for me, along with L'Oréal and Suave.

Cat Power

2009-12-30T09:56:00.000-08:00

If you call me a Cat Lady, I just might not return your calls. (You know who you are, and let me just say I only have ONE cat.) It's no secret that I have a certain fondness for felines, and I'm not ashamed. Cats are independent, loving, and intelligent - and they can be left to their own devices. Children's literature is full of examples of clever cats from the Cheshire Cat, the Cat in the Hat, and of course, Crookshanks of Harry Potter fame. It's Like This, Cat by Emily Nevile, winner of the 1964 Newbery Medal, expresses this reverence for cats.

The first line of the novel is: "My father is always talking about how a dog can be very educational for a boy. This is one reason I got a cat." This quote encapsulates the relationship between Dave Mitchell and his father. As an early adolescent, he wants to push the limits and develop his own identity while his father wants him to stay firmly grounded in their apartment in New York City. To escape his fights with his father, Dave briefly holes up at Kate's, his neighbor and resident Cat Lady. In the process, he grows attached to one of her kittens and becomes the owner of a new cat, who he names "Cat." Cat's wanderings lead him to meet new people, including Tom, an orphan seeking a new start in New York. As Dave interacts with his new friends and his world widens, his understanding of his father gains depth. Dave accepts that ". . . he really isn't a bad guy, and I'm growing up, we can see eye to eye". It is Cat who propells these live-changing events forward, and it's no surprise. While Dave struggles with his impending independence, Cat provides a model of balanced freedom and limitations. He may run with the other Toms, but he'll always come home. Truly, It's like this, Cat. Dave can just follow his example and he'll never go wrong.

Time after Time

2009-12-27T11:33:00.000-08:00

If I had to choose one author who has had the most impact on me, it would be Madeleine L'Engle. As a reclusive young adult, I barricaded myself in my room with a treasure trove of her books. Lost in the fantastic world of her imagination, I transformed from a girl who was afraid to cross the street to become a fearless heroine. From reading her first published novel, A Wrinkle in Time, winner of the 1963 Newbery Medal, to her latest posthumous novel, The Joys of Love, I have discovered more about myself that I ever thought possible.

As an adult, I have rediscovered L'Engle's novels like long-lost friends. It is a distinct pleasure to remember the time when I identified so strongly with Meg Murray, a late-bloomer who gains the confidence to save her father from a great evil. The evils I encountered were on a much smaller scale; they came in the guise of mean girls, tyrannical teachers, and quarreling parents. Still, pain is pain and my alienation and angst only grew without a release. Finally, instead of delving into math, as Meg did, I tapped into my strengths and began to express myself through writing. Inspired by the setting of Camazotz in A Wrinkle in Time, I wrote:

. . . There is a place where no one is happy
They beat to the same rhythm
They cannot understand anything at all
In Camazotz, it's strangest of all
Whether on Camazotz or on earth
Remember to stay close to your heart

I'll spare you the rest of my unpolished middle school scrawl. Still, I know that whatever I write today is directly effected by the works of Madeleine L'Engle. Whenever I ponder the existence of good and evil, the evolution from childhood to adulthood, or the power of hate and love, I need only to remember the epic struggles of the Murray and Austin families, and I have my answers. A Wrinkle in Time will always be timeless for me. Time after time I will reread it and gain new insights into the child I was and the adult I am becoming.

For your own edification and humor (feel free to laugh at the overly dramatic lines), I am posting a selection of poetry I wrote as an adolescent inspired by the works of Madeliene L'Engle. Enjoy!

Anger

An Echthros victory
a life of bickering
a family apart
not very smart
greed and lust
no trust
a heart of sorrow
that stays til the morrow
shedding of tears
hurting your peers
sitting alone
cut to the bone
Sad

Happiness

Adds to the Ancient Harmonies
Pulls together families
Makes peace
Anger cease
Trust and love
No guns
Simple lives
Sadness dies
New revival
Own survival
Peace of Nations
Healing of Patients
Joy

The Nephilim (Many Waters)

We had no choice
we had no free will
and we are frozen by an iron chill
We had no words - our lips are locked
and we don't know how to stop

Chorus - And there's nothing we can do.
There's nothing to say.
We have forsworn Heaven and this is the price we pay
Our evil ways won't go away and we feel no shame

We have no hearts
we have no souls
and we are disowned
We have no morals
we have no sins
and we have no way to get in

Chorus

We gave it up so we could live
we let it go so we could take
and never to return from where we came
we are dispossessed, we are alone
and to Heaven, we have no hold

Champagne (A House Like a Lotus) (with lines extracted from the novel)

Champagne flowing, the bubbles spill over the glass
the intoxication of living and dying
an icon of a new world, of art and music and ideas
out of this dark cocoon
into a butterfly, my arms now freed
a rainbow of color in her eyes
a wildness, a fear
pouring another glass and
confessing her darkest secrets
"Damn you, Pa! I'm just like you!"
the light touching the Laughing Christ
Revealing the compassion in his eyes
then . . . madness - running terrified from the nothingness
the Laughing Christ falls and shatters
my idol, lying drunk and sobbing
my heart like a lotus
a whole world inside
now broken and scarred
my mouth tasting like metal
dead bubbles and
Emptiness

Antarctica (Troubling a Star)

The blue glaciers upon the frozen sea
eyes wide open in disbelief
an experience you'll never forget
penguins play but do not love
whales fluke
they sing
snow lays forever upon the precious land
seals relaxing on the snow
her harp plays my song
like the penguins she won't make
herself vulnerable
look at them and find your answer
How could be be so cold?
Antarctica

Metal Heart

2009-12-17T09:15:00.000-08:00

Jesus seems like a nice guy, I decide while passing the tenth Nativity scene on my trek outside. It's hard not to be sympathetic while starring into his sincere and kind plastic eyes. I admit that I've always been fascinated with the character of Jesus, a man who in life may have promoted peace, but in death, was the excuse for countless wars. The Bronze Bow by Elizabeth George Speare, winner of the 1962 Newbery Medal, brings up many questions about the man who was and the man he became, and in the end, left me wondering what Jesus would do in my situation.

The Bronze Bow takes place during the Second Temple, when Israel is fragmented by infighting between different sects of Jews. At the same time, the harsh rule of the conquering Romans has intensified, and rebellious Jews band together to fight against them under the symbol of the bronze bow. The novel centers on Daniel, a young man who joins a band of outlaws to escape his heartless master, the blacksmith. Daniel encounters people from all walks of life, including an important meeting with Jesus that will change his life forever. Speare's writing captures the time with vivid details and historical facts. Moreover, her characters are likable and captivating. I could not help but admire Rosh, the leader of the outlaws, pity Samson, a slave that Daniel cares for, and respect Jesus, who brings hope in the darkest times. Even I wanted to join Jesus on his journey to share his teachings. Taking a step back to view this book objectively, I couldn't help but feel like I had just read a very good piece of missionary literature. In contrast to Speare's previous book, The Witch of Blackbird Pond, which depicted zealous Christians persecuting innocents, this book put a rosey glaze on the good work of righteous Christains. While Speare's intention might have been to show the decline of the original creed, this book feels like propaganda meant to endoctornate children. Jesus might have said that "let he who is without sin cast the first stone," I say I'm not stoning this book, but I can't recommmend it. If that makes me a sinner, so be it.

I can, however, recommend The Golden Goblet by Eloise Jarvis McGraw, one of the Newbery honor books for 1962. Without dogma or preaching, it stands out as the perfect historical fiction novel. When I was in middle school, I went through my "Egypt Period," collecting novels, coffee table books, and artifacts about Egypt. My fascination was primarily influenced by The Golden Goblet. Set in ancient Egypt, it tells the story of Ranofer who dreams of being a goldsmith, but is squealched by his evil half-brother, Gebu. Surrounded by the minutae of Egyptian life, the story unfolds as Ranofer attempts to shape his own life. It is this message of individuality that has stayed with me as my Egypt obsession withered.

Survivor Girl and The Fame Monster

2009-11-24T21:40:00.000-08:00

I first encountered Island of the Blue Dolphins by Scott O'Dell (winner of the 1961 Newbery Medal) when I was in third grade. Since my school was tiny (dividers for walls, random people from the community for teachers), my class was combined together with the fourth and fifth grades. Intense jealousy filled me when I saw the fifth graders reading Island of the Blue Dolphins while I was stuck with our banal basal reader. As a quiet shrinking violet, it did not occur to me to ask my teacher for a copy of the book to read on my own. Eventually, a copy finally found itself into my private collection and I was able to savor the story of Karaana, who is stuck on an isolated island after the people from her village are taken away by white men. As a child I was inspired by Karana's resilience against impossible odds. Even when her brother is killed by the wild dogs, Karana carries on and finds meaning in her life. Now, as an adult, this story is even more empowering. While I am surrounded by forced limitations of what I cannot do, Karana reminds me that women can kick ass, tame wild dogs, and survive anything. While much has changed since third grade (rise of the internet, terrorism, and reality TV), Karana's story will always be timeless and inspiring.

I'm sure George Seldon did not picture reality TV stars and musicians when he wrote The Cricket in Times Square, a Newbery Honor book for 1961, but after I read this book, I couldn't help by draw parallels between the Chester, the cricket's rise from a nobody insect to the toast of the town. A simple country cricket is happy to help a poor family survive by sharing his musical gift, but his talent is exploited by his new-found friends, Tucker Mouse and Harry Cat. Our modern culture is so obsessed with fame and popularity that we forget what's really important. Chester reminds us that "what good is it to be famous if all it does is make you unhappy" (134). We need only look at the tabloids and grocery counter magazines to know that fame does not guarantee happiness or success. Instead, Chester has a genuine talent and is happy to share it with everyone. While he may gain financially from performing in Times Square, he playing "gives a lot of people pleasure too - woodchucks and pheasants and ducks and rabbits". This book helped me reexamine my definitions of success and popularity. Instead of thinking about success according to the media, Chester teaches us that sharing your talents with ordinary folk can make others and yourself happy. It may not be network TV or even youtube, but it will make a connection that no one will forget.

Your Love is Better than Ice Cream

2009-11-24T19:58:00.000-08:00

Shrek said it best when he declared that ogres are like onions (or was it parfait?). The outcasts of society have hidden layers that the well-meaning people of civilization cannot comprehend. Even if their intentions are good, their actions often are detrimental to those they try to save. Onion John by Joseph Krumgold, winner of the 1960 Newbery Medal, captures how good people can be led astray by their own righteousness - and how they can redeem themselves.

The story takes place in the sleepy town of Serenity, where the men are strong and the boys play baseball. After a winning game, Andy Rusch notices Onion John, the town's eccentric, and decides to befriend him. Onion John has many imaginative and fantastic ideas, such as a procession to make it rain, fumigating the basement against ghosts, etc. but Andy enjoys the wild ride that he shares with Onion John. Moreover, he actually believes in Onion John's ideas. Rather than dissecting Onion John and seeing the fragmented pieces of his past, Andy is innocent and compassionate. However, when the adults get involved in Onion John's life, they pass judgment on his living conditions and perspective. Onion John recycles old bath tubs to store his food, newspapers, and other miscellaneous possessions, but according to Andy's father, this is not "normal nor comfortable" (104). The entire city is enlisted to build Onion John a new house when his old one was mostly serviceable. The good people of Serenity sincerely believe that helping Onion John become like them - with their new ovens, one-bathtub homes - will make him happy. What they do not realize is that Onion John had never needed to be saved. He had been content with his atypical life and finally, he has to leave Serenity to find peace again. While Onion John's life is turned upside down, Andy experiences his own rite of passage to discover if he wants the future his father has planned, and if he still believes in Onion John. In the end, Andy has to let go of his friend and allow him to choose his own path. By allowing Onion John to be himself, Andy learns to accept who he is. While Andy and the people of Serenity may have made mistakes, they learn to open their minds to new possibilities, to the parfait among the plain vanilla ice cream.

As an aside, I wanted to mention one of the Honor books for 1960, My Side of the Mountain by Jean Craighead George, which I read as a class assignment in 5th grade. While I didn't feel particularly connected to the book, the part that made the biggest impression on me was the newspaper assignment that we had to do to reflect on the book. Our teacher had us write articles based on the book, including features, recipes, interviews, advertisements, etc. This assignment introduced me to the idea that novels could be analyzed in different formats and creative styles. I am convinced that our Sam's Gazette gave me the freedom to create songs and fiction based on literature in later years.

Where the Wild Things Aren't

2009-11-08T19:51:00.001-08:00

Childhood books are sacred, and woe to the director who thinks he knows exactly how our beloved characters should act. (Let's just say Alfonso Cuarón and I are still not on speaking terms after the travesty that was Harry Potter III.) So Spike Jonze was walking on thin ice when he decided to retell Where the Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak as a live-action film. I expected to be disappointed, but I was pleasantly surprised. While the movie was expanded to include various plot lines, the heart of the story remained the same. Jonze captured what it is like to be a normal child, a child who fights and cries and roars. We are so contained in our daily lives that it was refreshing to watch a character who is unafraid to unleash his wild side. Part of me wanted to stand up in the movie theater and join Max's ruckus. Max is the child-like part of us that can speak his mind and dream the world as it should be. We only become adults when we swallow our anger and frustration, and forget that we are allowed to roar. Those who love us won't judge our outbursts or fall from grace, but will welcome us back with a hot meal and a comforting smile. In the end, Where the Wild Things Are has reminded me of where the wild things aren't, and inspired me to find my inner child once again.

I Put a Spell on You

2009-11-07T17:08:00.001-08:00

For the first time since I have embarked on this epic journey to submerge myself in the glittery world of Newbery winners, I have come upon an old friend, a book I have cherished since I was a child, The Witch of Blackbird Pond by Elizabeth George Speare, and winner of the 1959 Newbery Medal.

Our friendship began when I was trapped in the hell that is middle school. Like Kit, an exotic woman in a Puritan landscape, I felt like I could never belong among the chattering girls who lived in tiny boxes and looked down at anyone who was different. While they grew up in ultra-Orthodox homes, I grew up in a modern home, where the TV has left on during Shabbos and people were judged by their actions, not their skin color. I found a kindred spirit in Kit, whose own moral compass would not allow her to reject Hannah, a Quaker woman who was shunned by the Puritan community in Wethersfield. Kit was determined to be her own person, despite the ever-present danger of superstition and prejudice, and her example gave me the strength to face my own demons.

Now, as an adult, The Witch of Blackbird Pond means more to me than ever. I still face physical and personal demons. I'm still surrounded by self-righteous Puritans. And I still aspire to be a "wicked" witch.

>>>>> Another decade down... many more to go!>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

The Art of War

2009-11-07T16:49:00.000-08:00

I have a confession to make. I skimmed every page of Rifles for Watie by Harold Keith, winner of the 1958 Newbery Medal. Maybe it's my own issues with reading books about wars, violence, and the loss of innocence, but I just couldn't bring myself to read every page of this 300+ page tome about the Civil War in Kansas. Like All Quiet on the Western Front, Keith shows the wide-eyed excitement of fighting for one's country to the disillusionment of discovering the curruption of the war machine. Keith vividly depicts the fictionalized experiences of a common Union soldier named Jeff Bussey. Bussey is likable and interesting, especially when he defies orders from his superiors to follow his conscience. However, too many details about the war and irrelevant characters make the novel lag on ... and on and on, much like the war itself. While I did enjoy how Keith shared the perspective of each side, including the little known Native American involvement in the war, this book may be more suited for male adolescents (not to be sexist), who savor little nuances and details of history. As for me, I'm just glad I finished it.

Small Miracles

2009-10-25T19:53:00.000-07:00

Much to my friends' annoyance, boredom, and distaste, I talk about the Holocaust entirely way too much. (Then again, is there really a socially acceptable time for bringing up the Holocaust? Answer: When you either want to make conversations really awkward or kill it in its tracks - no pun intended.) Still, it's hard to stop myself from discussing the Holocaust curriculum I am working on. I spend most of day reading horror stories and gradually losing my faith in humanity. Thankfully, the winner of the 1957 Newbery Award Medal, Miracles on Maple Hill by Virginia Sorensen, may help me start the process of believing in people again.

Miracles on Maple Hill takes place in the Pennsylvania countryside after World War II. Marly's father has returned from war, irrevocably altered, and it is her family's hope that the fresh air and wide open spaces will return him to his former self. Away from the rush of the cities and the dark memories of death, Marly's father begins to heal. Like the sap that signals the beginning of spring, he becomes alive again and active in the world. His children bring him back into the world though a succession of small miracles. Joe, Marly's brother, shows his father that humanity and human kindness still exists when he saves the local hermit from freezing to death and invites him home for Christmas. It is this act that opens their father up and he shares part of his experience in the prison camp, knowing "Joe would have been one of the good ones," (180) one of the men who helped others. Marly and Joe's father finally shows how much he has grown when he takes charge of their neighbor, Mr. Chris's sap crop when Mr. Chris suffers a heart attack. Together with his entire family and local students, they save the crop and the Chris's livilihood. This selfless act shows that human decency is still alive and blooming.

Little Boxes

2009-10-18T21:24:00.000-07:00

Over this past summer, I learned to say yes. Rather than allowing my usual pragmatic (and let's face it, antisocial) side reign, I decided to embrace experiences that challenged me or pushed my limits. I encountered my fair share of awkward moments and newbie naivete, but once I started embracing the possibilities, I found that the box I created for myself started to crumble like wet cardboard. I felt a new sense of freedom that could only be defined by Rollo May. He wrote,
"Freedom is man's capacity to take a hand in his own development. It is our capacity to mold ourselves." And Now Miguel by Joseph Krumgold, winner of the 1954 Newbery Medal, and Carry On, Mr. Bowditch by Jean Lee Latham, winner of the 1956 Newbery Medal, both exemplify true stories of personal growth.

And Now Miguel tells the story of Miguel Chavez, who "has a secret wish to travel with the men of his family to the Sangre de Cristo mountains," where they bring their flock of sheep to graze for the summer. As the middle child, he is constantly overlooked and longs to become as important as his older brother, Gabriel. Whenever the opportunity arises, he does anything he can to show that he is ready to go to the mountain and become a man. Miguel makes a special wish to San Ysidro, the patron saint of farmers, to help him, but it's Miguel, through his hard work and perseverance, that changes his fate. In the process of learning about caring for the sheep, Miguel learns more about himself and the journey of life, as his father says, "when we need a good man, we don't depend on luck. We raise them" (150).

Carry On, Mr. Bowditch tells the story of Nat Bowditch, who grows up during the American revolution. At a young age, Nat is apprenticed to learn the trade of Ship Chandlery (a sort of Walmart for ships), and must forgo his dreams of studying at Harvard. However, Nat does not buckle under his new lot, but decides to work around it. While learning the ins and outs of ropes, anchors, and barrels, he uses his free time to learn navigation, mathematics, and Latin. In true sailor fashion, he "sails by the ash breeze," a term for towing ships by a boat in front of it. In the process of gaining this knowledge, he surpasses the experts of his day. His persistence to become a Harvard man without attending Harvard saves numerous lives, resulting in his book, The American Practical Navigator, a book still used today.

Bravedancing

2009-09-30T12:49:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I faced my fears. I stood at the edge of my future and decided to jump. As my friend Simone advised, I embraced the free fall and pushed myself beyond my comfort level. It wasn't easy and my heart beat like a hummingbird's wings on Speed, but in the end, I felt triumphant for discovering a new part of myself. And I know the next time I have to confront my fears, I will have this experience as a reminder that I'm awesome and can do anything. Naturally, the Newbery medal and honor books I read this week are both about discovering the strength within to do as we dream.

The Wheel on the School, winner of the 1955 Newbery Medal, is by Meindert DeJong and illustrated by a young Maurice Sendak before his Wild Things fame. (Extensive coverage of the film will be coming soon.) This charming tale takes place in the Dutch village of Shora, which storks always overlook as a possible nesting space. Lina and her classmates decide to do something about the lack of storks, which their teacher is more than willing to encourage. (Take a note out of his book, teachers who promote Discovery learning. How do you learn about storks? Find a way to have one nest on top of your school! I must confess I have a soft spot for teachers who make the impossible possible.) In the process of finding a wheel for the future storks, the children meet many colorful characters from their community, each with an important perspective and story to tell. As they learn about the people around them, they discover more about themselves and their ability to overcome any obstacle. Like the storks, the children transform an ordinary experience and make it beautiful.

Sarah Noble, the protagonist of The Courage of Sarah Noble by Alice Dalgliesh, winner of the Newbery Honor award, may appear to have an ordinary experience when she volunteers to accompany her father to the wild frontier of Connecticut, but inside, she is changed from a fearful child to a strong young woman. When she is afraid, she tells herself, "Keep up your courage, Sarah Noble!" and somehow this mantra brings out depths of bravery. She overcomes her fears of unfriendly people, nighttime creatures, and unknown Indians. At the end of the novel, the cloak that she had clung to as her security blanket against the cold world becomes unnecessary. The resilience that she cultivated will protect her.

Like the children of Shora and Sarah Noble, I am trying to embrace the process of change. The exciting thing is that once you start trying new things, your thirst for exploration only grows stronger. Like the individual steps of a complex dance, each movement becomes part of a harmonious whole. I am now looking towards the abyss not with trepidation, but with wonder; I am ready to start bravedancing.

Remember the Time

2009-09-21T10:45:00.000-07:00

Does your heart fill up with good times and cheer(s) when someone begins a sentence with "hey, remember that time when-"? Me, too. Face it, we're in love with nostalgia. Somehow the past always seems rosier than the present. We fondly remember a simpler time when politicians were honest, television was original, and Martha Stewart wasn't syndicated. Ginger Pye by Eleanor Estes, winner of the 1952 Newbery Medal, and Secret of the Andes, winner of the 1953 Newbery Medal, both take readers back to this gentler past.

Ginger Pye is the quintessential 50s story of the love between siblings and their dog. Jerry and Rachel Pye dream of purchasing a puppy of their very own for the costly sum of one dollar. Through hard work and kismet, they are able to buy Ginger and make him part of their family. But all is not well in their quiet town. A mysterious stranger, who they call the Unsavory Character, is also interested in owning their puppy and follows them in the shadows. Sadly, Ginger is kidnapped and it's up to Jerry and Rachel to solve the mystery of this shameless wastrel. Throughout their adventures, neither Jerry or Rachel are in any real danger. On the contrary, their community is safe as suburban houses. Everyone cares about each other and of course, adores Ginger Pye. The children can roam the streets alone late into the night without fear. Even the Unsavory Character is mostly a charicature of a villian without the ambition to cause any real damage. The world of Ginger Pye is long gone, but every now and then, it's refreshing to remember the it wasn't so long ago when a boy and girl and their dog could run and play in the sunshine.

While Ginger Pye brings readers back to the world of the 1950s, Secret of the Andes reaches further back, to the time before the Spanish conquistadors conquered the Incas. Cusi, a young Indian boy, lives high in the Andes mountains, with his guardian, Chuto, and his flock of llamas. (Who doesn't love a good llama story?) Cusi's life is shrouded in mystery; he does not know who his family is or where he comes from. He must travel on a quest of his own to find his "heart's desire" and in the process, find himself. Through his adventures, Cusi learns about the illustrious past and beautiful customs of his people, the Incas. While they were conquered hundreds of years ago, their legacy continues in people like Cusi, who understand the value of the past.

** It's important to note that Charlotte's Web by E.B. White is a Newbery Honor book for 1953, and probably one of the most beloved children's books of all time. I actually only read it as an adult, but what impacted me the most was the emphasis on the power of words and literacy. Do you remember your initial reactions to Charlotte's Web?

Redemption Song

2009-09-15T06:14:00.001-07:00

Throughout college, I learned many things - many of which I have forgotten or dismissed as nonsense. The ideas that remain with me are ones that became part of my core. During an English course, we studied the works of Viktor Frankl, author of Man's Search for Meaning, and his words had a powerful effect on me. He wrote: "Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms -- to choose one's attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one's own way.” The idea that freedom is an internal act was revolutionary and I embraced it wholeheartedly. The Door in the Wall by Marguerite de Angel, winner of the 1950 Newbery Medal, and Amos Fortune, Free Man by Elizabeth Yates, winner of the 1951 Newbery Medal, portray characters that assert their freedon despite hardship and struggle.

Set in medieval England, Robin is carelessly abandoned by his parents and falls ill. The illness cripples him and leaves him brokenhearted. Without the surety that he will become a page and eventually a knight, he feels directionless and useless. However, the good priest who nurses him back to health, Brother Luke, shares a common truth with Robin to console him. "Thou has only to follow the wall far enough," he says, "and there will be a door in it" (16). For Robin, these doors are his newly developed skills of whittling, reading, singing, and swimming. Rather than allowing him to indulge in self-pity, Brother Luke helps Robin learn to adapt to his new situation. Strengthened by this education, it is Robin who saves the townspeople from a Welsh siege, and finds his own wall in the door.
While Robin's situation changed because of an act of nature, there is nothing natural about how Amos Fortune, formerly At-mun of the At-mun-shi, was ripped from his homeland and enslaved. Throughout this true story, Amos remembers that he is an African prince and no matter what external changes occur, he retains his regal grace and dignity. Amos is a quick learner and gains the essential skills to one day purchase his own freedom and support himself. For him, it is not enough to liberate himself; as the years pass, he purchases the freedom for his first, second, and third wife. Even if his first two wives only live a year after being freed, he considers his money well spent. His works his entire life for a small portion of land and sky, a place to call his own, to leave this world better than when he came into it. Amos Fortune accomplished this goal in his lifetime, and when others read his story, they continue his legacy. Amos Fortune taught us that it is never too late to free ourselves from our own shackles.

Rogers Park Story (featuring: Tonight, tonightish)

2009-09-14T23:02:00.000-07:00

In my classroom (and now my office), I display the sign above for all to see. More than a cheesy gimmick used to make students bear their souls, it is a representation of my deep-seeded beliefs about the importance of each person’s experience. This began when, as a young adult, I encountered two books that transformed my views about storytelling. While I had previously lost myself in the fantasy worlds of Madeline L’Engle and Lloyd Alexander, I discovered that the candid and often brutal truth expressed in memoirs could help me find myself, and in turn, my own voice. The books that utterly changed my life were Angela’s Ashes by Frank McCourt (who sadly passed away recently) and The Color of Water by James McBride. Both books depict complicated and fragile relationships between parents and children. By completely opening themselves up, their ordinary experiences became something much more profound and unique. Their bravery in sharing their stories constantly inspire me to consider my story worth telling. This week I received a turbo-charged, pop-culture infused reminder of the power of one voice in the form of Nathan Rabin’s epic memoir, The Big Rewind: A Memoir brought to you by Pop Culture.

Better critics than me have summarized The Big Rewind and reviewed it with stunning accolades. The world is in love with this memoir and it’s not hard to guess why. By seamlessly blending the universal appeal of pop culture and the universal experiences of disappointment, rejection, and depression, Rabin speaks to each one of us. Rabin is a wordsmith whose balances self-deprecating humor with uh, other kinds of humor. I can imagine that his book could be used as a springboard towards a very fine Wes Anderson film starring Owen Wilson as Nathan and Bill Murray as the Chabad rabbi. Like Wes Anderson's tangled tales, this memoir is both absurdly comic and terribly tragic. While sharing truths about his troubled life, he makes us laugh about our own foibles. Not only do the anecdotes give me hope about my own twisted life, but the very setting brings out shrieks of pride and excitement. Rabin brings Chicago's Rogers Park to life with specific details that made me feel like I was in on a communal inside joke. (Adam Langer uses a similar device in his novel, Crossing California, which Rabin actually references. Apparently Langer subbed at Mather while Rabin matriculated there... it's a small, small world.) From eating at the Kosher Dunkin Donuts on Devon to going to the zoo in Indian Boundary Park to attending Dewitt Clinton Elementary School and then Mather, I can tell we walked the same streets, and shared some of the same experiences. Rabin overcame tremendous odds against him and ended up working for the best fake paper in the world, The Onion. In his final pages of his memoir, he sums up a truth that we all need to hear: "I would never have a ... normal life. And that was perfectly OK. In fact, it was beautiful" (337). His words reassure me that my imperfect life is worth sharing with the world. I have a story, too.

All the Pretty Horses

2009-09-09T21:15:00.001-07:00

Look me up in a psychology textbook (please don't) and you'll find my picture under the "slow to warm up" category. It takes me extra time to adjust to new ideas or experiences. It took me years to finally join the karaoke frenzy and now I'm addicted. (Sorry! I promise to skip In Da Club next time.) I'm still learning to appreciate the joys of public transportation and city life. I have yet to have a conversation that lasts longer than 5 minutes with the Tori Amos/Neil Gaiman Obsessed fanboy at Barnes and Noble, but there's always room for growth. This week, however, I literally went leaps and bounds beyond my previous schema; I learned to love horses. (For more details on my previous apathy to horses, check out my May 31st post.) This week I read King of the Wind: The Story of the Godolphin Arabian by Marguerite Henry, winner of the 1949 Newbery Medal, and for the first time, understood the appeal of these wild creatures.

In lyrical prose that reads like a nonfiction fairy tale, Henry tells the epic story of Sham, a golden Arabian stallion, and Agba, a mute horseboy, who takes care of him when Sham's mother dies. Instead of giving up on this unlucky animal, Agba becomes his surrogate parent and a special bond grows between them. Agba accompanies Sham when the horse is selected by the Sultan of Morocco to travel to France as a present for Louis XV. Through many unpredictable turns of fate, Sham and Agba are often separated and must find ways to be reunited. No matter who "owns" Sham, he does not bend to the will of any man. Like the Islamic legend states, he is a creature of the wind, born from it when Allah said, "I will that a creature proceed from thee. Condense thyself" (29). Sham comes to life in Henry's lush sensual language which fleshes him out as a complete, but not anthropomorphized, character. He is more than just an animal; he is Agba's family. The love that they share is something transcendent and beautiful, and it changes both of them. It is the chances you take, the steps into the unknown, that make you become more than you are. For Sham and Agba, their world opened up when they fought to remain together. As for me, I have an appointment at Barnes and Noble.

THREE DECADES DOWN>>>MANY MORE TO GO.........

Chicken Soup for the Cynic's Soul

2009-09-05T22:36:00.001-07:00

Inspirational signs make me gag. Show me a kitten hanging on a branch by its claws with the caption “Hang in there,” and I’ll be ready for some Alka-Seltzer. Add a quote by the Chicken Soup for the Soul crew and I’ll be ready for a random act of violence. The sign below from the geniuses at Despair.com sums up my feelings.

Despair.com and I are kindred souls; they understand my frustration at pseudo-inspirational media. We both hold the unpopular belief that people are mostly stupid with spurts of ingenuity and cleverness sporadically mixed in. Strawberry Girl by Lois Lenski, winner of the 1946 Newbery Medal, and The 21 Balloons by William Pene du Bois, winner of the 1948 Newbery Medal, both describe the extreme idiocy and creativity of the human race.

Strawberry Girl is set in the Florida backwoods when the land was still uncultivated and alligators roamed the roads. The Boyer family moves into the neighborhood, bringing modern notions about agriculture and farming with them that disrupt the locals’ long-held beliefs. This clash of cultures causes a feud to erupt between the Boyers and their neighbors, the Slaters. The father of each family comes up with progressively more devious ways to show his superiority and power. Each cruel act brings them further from living in peace with their neighbors. Mr. Boyer may know everything about running a farm, but he has no idea how to resolve the constant battle between him and Mr. Slater. It takes the children and their wives to bring the families together and learn to “love our neighbor as ourselves” (180). In the face of his wife’s life threatening illness and of course, the redeeming guidance of a traveling preacher, Mr. Slater is determined to become a good father and neighbor, and finally, the feud ends.

While Strawberry Girl deals with innovations on earth, The 21 Balloons focuses on the progress of flight. Set in the 1880s, the novel describes the extraordinary adventure of Professor William Waterman Sherman, a balloonist who set out to travel across the globe, only to find himself stranded on the island of Krakatoa. While his plans for the balloon were meticulous and thoughtful, the entire conveyance is dropped into the Pacific by a seagull. Professor Sherman is lucky to be rescued by the inhabitants of Krakatoa, who take care of his every need. He discovers that the island is populated with people with “inventive interests” who spend their days inventing products to make life easier and more fun. Living on top of a live volcano can be troublesome, but the people of Krakatoa adapt to the constant shifting earth beneath their feet with grace. Unlike the Professor, they have an escape plan, a Giant Balloon Life Raft, which can hold all the families. When Krakatoa finally erupts, and all the families are deposited across Europe, the Professor is left with the Giant Balloon Life Raft (which has 21 balloons) to crash gradually into the ocean and then he awaits rescue. After this ordeal, he recounts his tales for the press and when they ask him what he will do now, instead of going to Disneyland, he replies that he wishes to resume his original plan: spending a year in a balloon. In light of his past adventures, this might not be the wisest decision, but for the chance of a year of freedom and flight, perhaps the stupid decision is the correct one. I wonder if there is a poster for that sentiment. I sorta hope so... there just better not be a kitten on it.

Constant Craving

2009-08-24T05:53:00.000-07:00

I woke up with red bloodshot eyes after barely sleeping a wink, my mind racing with thoughts about you. I went through my day like a zombie, going through the motions in the hope of returning to you. Food tasted like sawdust in my mouth when all I wanted to do was engulf you. Okay, I admit it. I have a problem. I am chronically addicted to The Hunger Games* by Suzanne Collins. Within 48 hours, I consumed this book like my last meal. I put my phone on silent and I continued procrastinating from my work to read this riveting post-apocalyptic tale of Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark, two teens who are selected to be tributes in an all out battle to the death. Think of it as Survivor on steroids, or the Real World with real blood, or better yet, Big Brother (and not the CBS one). Reality TV might be entertainment to us, but what if we were forced to watch our loved ones murder other children to survive? The questions that The Hunger Games poses are essential issues to think about as we embed ourselves deeper into virtual worlds where we relinquish privacy and freedom for the sake of safety or worse, fun. Even more than the deep messages it conveys, it is a relief to finally find a new obsession with a female protagonist who can kick butt (sorry, Bella, but it's true...). Luckily, the newest book in this trilogy is due Sept. 1, and until then, I will be salivating...

* Special props go to Mrs. Rosen, master librarian, who recommended this book to me and changed my life.

Teaching Tolerance: The Hundred Dresses

2009-08-23T22:44:00.000-07:00

Once in a while, in the process of reading all the Newbery Medal books, I come across a book that is not only high quality children's literature, but meshes with my philosophy as a teacher. As a teacher, I want to teach my students to appreciate diversity and value people for themselves. The Hundred Dresses* by Eleanor Estes, a Newbery honor book for 1945, is a perfect book for encouraging children how to treat others who are different than them. In the story, Wanda Petronski is a poor, friendless girl who is teased unremittingly by the popular girls when she tells them that she has 100 dresses at home. Without giving too much away, the children learn a unforgettable lesson about the impact of their actions. More than that, Maddie, the resident mean girl's best friend, finally comes to terms with her role as a bystander, and gains the courage to stand up for what's right. This simple story is full of real-life applications for our children. Children are not born bigoted or intolerant and it is up to us as educators to provide models of compassion and tolerance.

*Try compare and contrasting this book with Molly's Pilgrim by Barbara Cohen, a book about a Russian Jewish immigrant who is mocked by her classmates for her nontraditional pilgrim doll, until her classmates learn a lesson in what it means to be a real pilgrim.

What a stupid lamb ... What a sick, masochistic lion

2009-08-23T22:17:00.000-07:00

With the exception of Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIHM and the Kenneth Opell’s Silverwing series, I never liked animal stories. I find it difficult to suspend my disbelief as animals are anthropomorphized to act, dress, and talk like humans. Sure, I can believe in urban faeries, soulless mermaids, and telepathic dragons, but rabbits in waistcoats? Never! Still, animal stories are a cornerstone of children’s literature, and they can convey messages in a different context that make them easier to absorb. In the same way that Shakespeare set his plays in Italy to protect his English interests (namely, keeping his head on his shoulders), animal stories give very human messages that we are more likely to understand. Rabbit Hill by Robert Lawson, winner of the 1945 Newbery Medal, and Miss Hickory by Carolyn Sherwin Bailey, winner of the 1947 Newbery Medal, are both timely animal stories with important messages for a post-World War Two world.

The animals of Rabbit Hill are afraid of the “New Folks” who are moving into the big house until the humans prove to be sympathetic to the plight of the indigenous species that inhabit their land. They go out of their way to provide for the creatures, sharing their food, caring for hurt animals, and maintaining the peace. After a bloody war, we need to be reminded that it is possible to live in harmony with each other. The special relationship between the humans and animals shows that we are all interconnected and dependent on each other.

Miss Hickory definitely stretches the limits of disbelief. Made from a hickory nut for a head and apple twig for a body, she learns to live in harmony with the other creatures of the forest when she is displaced from her perfect man-made home. She learns to live in peace with Squirrel, who resides in the hole beneath the tree she nests in. Finally, when she rags on him for being a “brainless wastrel,” he flips out and eats her head. Without her head, she follows her instincts and grafts herself onto an apple tree, making the dead wood come alive once more. I’m not exactly sure what children are supposed to learn from Miss Hickory’s example; maybe if you push others too far, you might get eaten, or maybe life just happens. Maybe it’s how you deal with life that matters. Miss Hickory deals with her challenges with equanimity and grace, ever a little lady. All the other animals teach her how to survive and in the end, she is immortalized in the rebirth of a tree that will bud, blossom, grow fruit that will have seeds to continue the journey. There is life even in dead wood if we work to restore it. Miss Hickory shows that the reward for pushing ourselves outside our comfort level is that we can grow beyond our wildest dreams. After a war, it’s always difficult to start over, but it must be done. And if we fight for peace, like fictional animals, we might be able to act like human beings.

If I Could Turn Back Time …

2009-08-12T16:53:00.000-07:00

Can you smell the intoxicating aromas of a medieval marketplace, combining the rich scent of roasting meat on a spit and the latest spices from faraway lands? Do you hear the sound of the smith beating his anvil as a traveling minstrel regales a nearby crowd with the latest tale, eliciting cries of horror, excitement, and humor? Do you see the lush countryside dotted with thatched roofs, herds of sheep, and peasants with towering castle looming in the background? If so, you must be reading high-quality historical fiction. Good historical fiction should transport you back in time to almost experience life in a “simpler, gentler” time. The winner of the 1943 Newbery Medal, Adam of the Road by Elizabeth Janet Gray, and Johnny Tremain by Esther Forbes, winner of the 1944 Newbery Award, stand out as books that recall times long ago.

Adam of the Road takes place in 13^th century England and shares the episodic tale of Adam, the son of a minstrel, who travels with his father across the country, singing folk songs, telling tales, and performing gymnastics. His troubles begin when his faithful dog is stolen by a fellow minstrel and must journey on his own to rescue him. On the way, like Blanche Du Bois, he depends on the kindness of strangers to host, feed, and help him. Adam’s travels are filled with the realistic sights and sounds of medieval life, but at the same time, it is hard to believe that people would so easily help a stranger out of the goodness of their hearts. This picture of medieval life is tainted by a wholly unrealistic cast of kind characters. Looking back into the past requires being faithful to the events and people of the time. Adam of the Road represents sugar-coated history that deceives the reader.

However, some ideas are offensive to our modern sensibilities and even if people believed them in the past, it takes special care to express them properly in a modern novel. When I saw Johnny Tremain expertly performed at the Lifeline Theatre, I was unaware of the darker message that permeated the text, which I suspect the adaptation toned down. In the story, Johnny Tremain is a bit arrogant and self-satisfied in his skill as a silversmith. His life comes crashing down when he (gasp!) violates the Sabbath and attempts to finish a sugar bowl. The crucible he is using breaks while he is firing the bowl and his hand is crippled. This horrible event is seen as a “dire punishment from God for your pride” (29), instead of a purposeful act perpetrated by his fellow apprentice, Dove, who had switched the crucible with an old, cracked one to teach Johnny a lesson about breaking the “holy” Sabbath. Even if the historical events and characters are depicted vividly to make history come alive, it is this premise that makes me reject this novel. In the past months, I have been trying to undo years of indoctrination that stress that God throws lightning bolts for target practice. If this were the case, wicked people would be charred to a crisp and good people would be enjoying the barbeque. The American Revolution not only gave people freedom to practice their religion in their own way, but also freedom from religious dogma. Johnny Tremain shows the valiant efforts of the patriots who gave up their “lives, property, safety, skills . . .{so} that a man can stand up (180). However, it also shows how tyrannical fear-mongering made it impossible for anyone to stand up against their make believe God. While the American Revolution may be ancient history, the struggle for religious freedom will continue to be fought. And I am armed and ready.

Summer Reading

2009-07-26T20:30:00.000-07:00

To me, summer reading bring up images of shopping, ditsy female characters. and conveniently romantic scenarios. This summer, however, my selection of reading has been overwhelmingly about strong female narrators who make choices within rigid communities and find themselves in situations that are anything by typical. (Coincidence, I think not...) Challenge yourself to read some amazing literature this summer, and check out the list below.

The Girl Who Could Fly by Victoria Forester
Stephenie Meyer calls this book a cross between Little House and the Prairie and X-Men. Nothing is ever as it appears in this book, which makes it a delicious page-turner.

Two Girls of Gettysburg by Lisa Klein

A study in perspective since the story is told by two narrators, cousins from opposite sides of the conflict. In vivid detail, this book describes how life changed for ordinary people during the Civil War. This is historical fiction at its best.

The Chosen One by Carol Lynch Williams

A candid view into a isolationist polygamist community and the consequences of blind obedience to leaders. It is an intensely powerful book about the value of intellectual and emotional freedom.

Alis by Naomi Rich

Read Alis along with The Chosen One to compare and contrast a realistic fiction situation and a Orwellian Puritan future. Perhaps very little separates the reality from dismal post-Apocalyptic visions. Both books put female characters in impossible situations and show how they rise above their shackles.

The Thirteenth Child by by Patricia C. Wrede

The first book in an exciting new series by one of fantasy's best writers. Imagine the American frontier but with dragons, magic, and wizards.

Skeleton Creek by Patrick Carman

A revolutionary novel, Skeleton Creek uses viral videos and the written word to tell this ghost story. Prepare to lose sleep after watching Sara's videos, but you'll love how you can interact with the book. The sequel comes out in the fall and I am already counting down the days.

Daughter of the Flames by Zoe Marriott

Women warriors. Evil uncles. Hidden identities. What more could you want from a fantasy book?

Ten Things I Hate About Me by Randa Abdel-Fattah

No matter our nationalities or origins, we all feel like we live double-lives at some point, where there are elements of our culture that we cannot share with others. This book makes us feel less alone.

If I Stay by Gayle Forman

The plot sounds like a Nicholas Sparks novel, but reads like no other author. Listen to this one on CD, narrated by the fabulous Kirsten Potter, and you will think, laugh, and cry.

The Forest of Hands and Teeth by Carrie Ryan
After civilization ends, the world is populated by zombies. The community is the only thing keeping you safe from the wild elements. What happens when you begin to question the community? Like an onion (or a parfait), this book has so many layers that make it an amazing read.

Cup of Courage

2009-07-26T20:00:00.000-07:00

Shaking with nervousness, I entered Starbucks and scanned the room for her. She sat by a side table, looking anxious too. I gathered my strength and joined her. For the first time, I directly confronted her about issues that had been bothering me and we communicated. It took a great deal of courage on both our parts to be honest and share our feelings, but without it, our friendship could never grow. For us, courage was not the absence of fear; it was taking action despite the fear. Both Call it Courage by Armstrong Sperry, winner of the 1941 Newbery Medal, and The Matchlock Gun by Walter D. Edmonds, winner of the 1942 Newbery Medal, share this important message about facing our fears.

The story of Mafatu, the Boy Who Was Afraid, is retold in Call it Courage. Mafatu develops an intense fear of the sea after his mother was killed by a tropical storm. This fear isolates him in the village. In order to prove himself, he forces himself to take to the sea with the other boys. However, he is marooned on a deserted island and must fend for himself. (Fortunately, in almost Disneyesque style, he is accompanied by Kivi, a crippled albatross, and Uri, his faithful dog.) Once alone, he faces sharks, wild boars, and cannibals with determination and pluck. It is only when he has to confront his fears that he learns he has the strength within to overcome them. Through his experiences, he learns to live up to his name, Mafatu, which means Stout Heart.

The Matchlock Gun retells the true story of the Van Alstyne family that has been passed down through generations. The Van Alstynes were Dutch pioneers who settled New York to escape political persecution. Teunis Van Alstynes is drafted to help the militia deal with Indian raids spurned on by the French. While Teunis is away, his wife and children must band together and defend themselves when the Indians attack*. Their mother, Gertrude, takes a pivotal role in keeping her children safe by leading the Indians within the range of the Matchlock Gun and instructing her son, Edward, in the perfect time to shoot it. While my modern sensibilities cringe at the sight of a child murdering anyone, maybe in this life or death situation, the brave thing is to strike fast.

Both of these stories show how children manage desperate situations with calm and perseverance. While most of us don't face intense scenarios like these every day, by reading these books, we are reminded to confront our personal demons and rise above our limitations. Change might start with coffee at Starbucks or a trip out to sea, but the important thing is to take the plunge.

*As an aside, this book makes the Indians into the aggressors, despite the fact that we stole their land from them. African-Americans are also mistreated in this book. This book belongs in a different time, and does not hold up in our modern light. For more on this, check out http://www.oyate.org/books-to-avoid/matchlockgun.html.

American Dreamz

2009-07-21T20:57:00.000-07:00

The Statue of Liberty. The Bald Eagle. Uncle Sam. Each is a symbol that is meant to stir feelings of nationalism and pride. Daniel Boone became a living symbol during his lifetime of the unconquerable American spirit and his story is captured for all time in Daniel Boone by James Daugherty, the winner of the 1940 Newbery Award.

The power of Manifest Destiny is in full swing throughout the narrative of Daniel Boone. From childhood Boone felt the pull of the West pulling him further out into the wild frontier. On his way, he helped many other pioneers by sharing his experience, advice, and fighting skills. Sadly, he found and lost every land claim he made due to incomplete paperwork, which is truly a sign of American bureaucracy at its best. Still, his influence was far reaching, and there is no way to tell how many people he helped endure the harsh conditions at the edge of the civilized world.

The story of Daniel Boone could be the story of America itself. As a fledgling nation, newly free and striving to carve out a place for itself from the wilderness, the United States stumbled its way through uncharted territories and grey areas. The mistreatment of the Indians is a particularly shady area, which Daugherty does recognize. He discusses the Indian’s reaction to having their land stolen and religion forced upon them on page 40, but every mention of Indians before and afterwards describes them as willful aggressors. Putting this book into historical context, I can understand why Daugherty perhaps was hesitant to color his story with too many shades of grey. He published Daniel Boone in 1939, as the Nazi party was gaining power and fascism threatened the fabric of America. This book is meant to inspire pride in the American spirit and belief in the American dream, and explaining how America was founded on the destruction of its indigenous people is hardly inspirational. In the New Eden, America must be seen as the “good guys” who fight for truth, justice, and the American way. Like all symbols, Daniel Boone has become more than his original image. From his beginnings as a symbol of hope and perseverance, after reading this book, he might even be a symbol of prewar propaganda.

Heatwave

2009-07-17T09:08:00.000-07:00

Rather than reading Shopaholic for the 15th time while you lounge at the beach this summer, try Thimble Summer by Elizabeth Enright, winner of the 1939 Newbery Medal, and an excellent beach book. It reads like a perfect summer day, with a lazy, easygoing story and characters as sweet as freshly squeezed lemonade. Enright recounts various episodes during a magical summer in nine-year-old Garnet’s childhood. From the miraculous arrival of the silver thimble and life-restoring rain, the appearance of Eric, the drifter orphan, the accidental overnight in the public library, and Garnet’s attempt to run away from her family, Garnet’s life is full of wonderful, exciting, and interesting experiences. She learns to appreciate the simple pleasures of hanging out with friends, spending time with family, and staying up late. Her ninth summer will remain part of her as she grows up and the silver thimble will remain a symbol of endless possibilities. Hopefully each one of us has a memory of a magical summer where the days lingered and the experience lasted long after the rush and heat. This book reminds us that we deserve to take time out of our busy lives and jobs and relax and enjoy ourselves. Take time this summer to appreciate the simple things with friends or family, read a good book, and be kind to yourself.

TWO DECADES DOWN>>>MANY MORE TO GO.........

The Origins of Evil

2009-07-12T11:15:00.001-07:00

The White Stag by Kate Seredy, winner of the 1938 Newbery Medal, retells the myth of the Huns' and Magyar’s search for their homeland in lyrical prose. The story itself reads like an epic poem, but the most fascinating part about The White Stag is that it leads into a historical event, the rise of Attila the Hun. According to the myth, Attila was destined to be a great leader who would find a home for his people. His mother, Alleeta, died in childbirth, which changed his father, Bendegus, forever – especially since his father had just challenged the gods, which as we all know, is a huge no-no. Attila was raised without “pity, tenderness, and love” and became the Red Eagle, the Scourge of God. The myth ends (of course) with the White Stag leading Attila to the chosen land of his people. This happily-ever-after ending does not take into account the price of their home, the stones and fields stained with the blood of thousands. As the release of the latest Harry Potter movie approaches (3 days and counting), I am reminded of another man who had a tragic origin story and used his power for evil. Voldemort’s origins are important but they aren’t everything. He was responsible for every choice he made, no matter his harsh upbringing. Similarly, Attila fits into a well-laid myth but is held accountable for his mass-murdering rampage. In the end, The White Stag disturbs me by almost justifying his behavior. Clearly, I need to reread Harry Potter to gain my sense of equilibrium and good and evil.

NOTE: Make sure to check out On the Banks of Plum Creek by Laura Ingalls Wilder, a Newbery Honor book for 1938, which I honestly think should have won the Medal.

The Moderately Glad Game

2009-07-12T10:41:00.001-07:00

I’ve always aspired to be a Pollyanna, a happy-go-lucky ray of sunshine that finds the good in every person. However, my natural cynicism and mistrust of people in general makes it difficult to open myself up to this way of life. Enter my new favorite heroine, Lucinda, from Roller Skates by Ruth Sawyer, winner of 1937 Newbery Medal, who seamlessly rides the balance between congeniality and realism.

Lucinda skates all over New York City on her polished roller skates, finding new friends wherever she goes. Her natural warmth and interest in others makes her instant friends with Mr. Gilligan, the cab driver, Patrolman M’Gonegal, Tony from the fruit stand, Trinket, her four year old upstairs neighbor, and many others. She touches each person’s life in a profound way, either through her own direct interaction or the connections she makes between her friends. She saves Tony from bullies who attack his fruit stand by enlisting the help of Patrolman M’Gonegal’s friend, Patrolman Jerry Hanlon. She gives Trinket her first real Christmas – complete with a green tree, lavish presents, and good friends. She shares countless hours with her Uncle Earl, reading Shakespeare together, when his own stepdaughters (which he calls the “gazelles”) express no interest in anything besides propriety and sewing. Lucinda is not a docile puppet who can acquiesce to her Aunt Emily’s demands to sit still, control her temper, and imitate her own girls. In one instance, her aunt keeps calling her “homely as two toads” until “something goes off inside Lucinda like fireworks…and shouts, “Glory be to God, Aunt Emily, if you must say it keep it down to one toad! I’m sick to death of two!” (34). Lucinda has a great amount of energy and expels much of it on her excursions around the city. Unlike Aunt Emily who tries to put Lucinda in a box, the colorful family that she has created for herself allows her to be wholly herself, and sees the deep beauty that shines from within.

All families encounter loss and death, and Lucinda’s makeshift family is no different. In true Lucinda fashion, she consoles the survivors like an adult and tells them about the Eskimo idea of death, how the soul becomes a gull, and then has her Uncle Earl make the funeral arrangements for them. Experiencing a death for the first time gives Lucinda a peek into the adult world of grief but also shows her youth. While she is usually the one who takes care of everyone else, in this moment, she lets herself slip into her guardian’s room and be held as she falls asleep.

Lucinda is transformed by her year in New York and the reader with her. She teaches us that we have no idea how deeply we can effect other’s lives and how we are, in turn, changed. While Pollyanna might say that all people are good, Lucinda would say that all people are interesting. And that is a philosophy that can inspire me.

Boys and Girls Club

2009-07-10T11:15:00.001-07:00

Girls play with dolls. Boys play with trucks. Girls are made from sugar and spice, and everything nice. Boys are made from snips and snails, and puppy-dogs' tails. Girls are the cornerstones of the home and boys are the breadwinners. Whether consciously or not, we absorb these stereotypes from the society around us and accept our limitations and gender roles. Fortunately, children’s literature pushes the envelope of conventional mores in Dobry by Monica Shannon, winner of the 1935 Newbery Medal and Caddie Woodlawn by Carol Ryrie Brink, winner of the 1936 Newbery Medal.

Dobry is set in a peasant village in Bulgaria (primarily known to me as home to Viktor Krum). Dobry is a young boy whose future is embedded in the farmland of his fathers. For his mother, Roda, their farmland represents generations of hard work and history that have cultivated life-giving crops. She cannot understand why Dobry would foolishly reject her wishes and the land he was raised on and put his heart and soul into becoming an artist. However, Dobry does not reject his birthplace, but makes it his muse to inspire his art. He captures the storks, cows, trees, snowdrifts, mountains, and people of his village in oils, charcoal, and clay. The conflict between Dobry and his mother is diffused by his storytelling grandfather who expresses the theme of the novel when he says to Roda “. . . people are not all the same, any more than the vegetables, fruits, trees, animals are all the same. . . Both have different needs . . . Dobry needs to draw, to paint, and Dobry is going to be a great man just as his father said he would be” (108). Using the folk wisdom of the Bulgarian people, Dobry’s grandfather is able to help Roda come to terms with the different path that Dobry has chosen, and eventually she gives her blessing and savings to send Dobry to study art is Sofia.

Caddie Woodlawn is set in frontier Wisconsin and tells the mostly true story of Carol Ryrie Brink’s grandmother, Caddie Woodhouse. Caddie Woodlawn is a rambunctious flame-haired girl whose greatest pleasures in life are adventures with her two brothers in the great outdoors, which include visiting the local Indians, berry picking, and tricking her tattle-telling sister, Hetty. Unlike her “ladylike” sisters, Hetty and Clara, Hetty is given free-reign to run wild. After her sister Mary died and Caddie herself was frail and sickly, Caddie’s father decided to experiment with Caddie and help her gain her health back by running the woods with her brothers. This atypical education gives Caddie the strength to get herself into many scrapes and dangerous situations, but it also gives her the tools to handle conflicts successfully. When the adults and children around her huddle in the dark when they hear a rumor about an Indian massacre, a group of trouble-makers decide to take matters into their own hands and attack the Indians first. Caddie saves the day by warning her friend, Indian John, and avoiding bloodshed. By allowing Caddie to “act like a boy,” she is able to save her neighbors from doing harm to themselves and others. This is her father’s goal in giving Caddie her freedom. He wants her to grow up into a “woman with a wise and understanding heart, healthy in body and honest in mind.” His open-minded approach stems from his upbringing in England as the child of a seamstress and the disowned son of an English lord. As the child of a man who had to reinvent himself, he understands the value of choosing one’s own path. Caddie Woodlawn stands out as an iconic character in children’s literature that represents what real girl power is about, and has inspired generations of girls and boys to look beyond sugar and spice and snips and snails.

Better than Ice Cream

2009-07-05T21:22:00.000-07:00

Some books are like bread and water, necessary for survival but without a satisfying flavor. Some books are like cod-liver oil, forced upon us by well-meaning parents. And some books are like ice cream sundaes with sprinkles and a cherry on top, so wonderful and delicious that we savor every spoonful until we are left with a sticky-sweet aftertaste that leave us craving more. Invincible Louisa: The Story of the Author of Little Women by Cornelia Meigs, the winner of the 1934 Newbery Medal, is a tasty treat for anyone whose life has been effected by Louisa May Alcott.

Written in a similar breathtaking style to Louisa May Alcott, Invincible Louisa goes behind the scenes with the Alcott family to draw parallels between Little Women and Alcott’s own life. I found myself constantly crying “I didn’t know that!” aloud as I read this biography, surprised by how many elements of her own life Louisa put into her novels. Like Jo, she had an older sister, Anna, and two younger sisters, Elizabeth and May. She captured the close relationship she maintained with her own family in her novels by including personal anecdotes like the theatricals in the attic, the works of the Pickwick Club, and the importance of the Pilgrim’s Progress. Louisa’s upbringing with the New England Transcendentalists clearly had much to do with the philosophies expressed by the March family. Great men like Ralph Waldo Emerson, Henry David Thoreau, and Henry Wadsworth Longfellow were close friends of the Alcott family, and stirred up questions and new ideas in Louisa’s mind. Louisa’s own moral compass, especially when it came to the controversial topic of abolition, steered true from her experiences with African Americans. As a toddler, a black boy who was passing by saved her from drowning, and this experience profoundly effected her. Her own home was used as a way station for the Underground Railroad, and she remembered vividly when she stumbled upon a runaway slave hiding in the oven. Louisa’s parents were idealists who acted as they believed, no matter the cost. Her parents’ advanced views about education and childrearing are evident in the incident with Amy and the limes. Bronson Alcott, Louisa’s father, was an educator who tried to develop a new system to teach children, maintaining that “children had minds and hearts and spirits of their own, and should have a voice in what was decided concerning them” (65). Creating Plumfield, the fictional school in Jo’s Boys, must be a tribute to her father’s lifetime of work in education. Alcott also plays tribute to her own sister, Elizabeth, as one of the most memorable characters in literature. I had no idea that like Jo, she nursed her own sister after a bout of scarlet fever, and sat with her as she passed into the next realm. Knowing that Beth was more than words on a page makes her death even more significant. Louisa bravely poured her own grief and loss onto the page for readers across the world to experience. Her stories remain just as relevant today as when she wrote them more than one hundred years ago, effecting new generations of readers in new ways. Invincible Louisa has added a new layer of to my understanding of the canon of Louisa’s work and reminded me that good writers must write from their own lives to touch others. In Louisa’s life there were many people that touched her and she has immortalized them in her fiction. Of course, a central part of Little Women is Jo’s relationship with Laurie, which Invincible Louisa addresses, but I can’t give away all the treats of this book. To find out who Laurie was, you’ll have to read it for yourself.

Growing up is Never Easy

2009-07-05T19:57:00.000-07:00

At some point each of us must reassess the values that we have been taught and decide for ourselves if they fit within the framework of our own minds. This is called growing up, and although it is full of difficult choices, complacency holds a much crueler fate than self-awareness. In Young Fu of the Upper Yangtze by Elizabeth Forman Lewis, winner of the 1933 Newbery Medal, Young Fu uses his brain to decide what is true and meaningful to him within his culture. The story begins as Young Fu travels with his mother from the country to the city of Chungking to become an apprentice to a coppersmith. While he experiences the changes of growing from a child to an apprentice to a journeyman to a man, the country around him constantly shifts from ongoing revolutions. At the brink of a new regime, Young Fu undergoes an inner struggle to find his own course. He defies the ancient gods by saving a foreign woman from the Fire Dragon, a fire that is bent on destroying everything in its path. He befriends her when others caution him to stay away. It is because of his friendship with this woman, who turns out to be a nurse, that he is able to save his fellow apprentice, Li, when he falls ill by bringing him to the nurse’s clinic. Young Fu refuses to follow his mother’s superstitions blindly, but thinks through his choices, and then acts. Of course, like any adolescent, he gets himself into his share of scrapes, bad calls, and mistakes, but he learns from each one of them and gains wisdom. While he dismisses concepts that do not make sense to him, Young Fu finds value in the wisdom of his ancestors, which he learns from his neighbor, Wang Scholar. As he grows up, he pieces together his own views, which are certainly shaped by his culture and its beliefs, and finds his place in the world.

Apocalypse Nowish

2009-06-29T22:27:00.000-07:00

It is the distant future. Suspected terrorists are taken to remote locations and water boarded for information. Plastic electronic devices gather data about people’s movements and track any atypical travel patterns. The world is made a little bit safer everyday due to the hard work of the Department of Homeland Security, but fear and panic are on the rise. Seem familiar? The world of Cory Doctorow’s Little Brother is hardly science fiction; it is the natural progression of events if we continue on our current path.

Little Brother begins with the destruction of the Bay Bridge by terrorists. In an instant everyone is a suspect, especially impressionable whippersnappers who are prime candidates for fighting the establishment. Enter Marcus Yallow, a.k.a. “w1n5t0n/M1k3y” who, after being detained in a secret prison by his own government, is ready to take a stand to save his friends, family, and country. Marcus understands the timeless words of Benjamin Franklin that “those who would give up Essential Liberty to purchase a little Temporary Safety, deserve neither Liberty nor Safety” and is willing to sacrifice everything for freedom. I love this book, not just because two of my favorite writers, Neil Gaiman and Scott Westerfeld, recommend it, but because it stirs important questions about security, civil disobedience, and growing up. After finishing this book, I was ready to read it again and gain something completely different. If you only read one book this year, let it be this one – especially if the world is indeed coming to an end.

It is not often when two of my favorite things, dystopian novels and theatre, come together, but this week I had the pleasure of seeing Little Brother performed by the Griffin Theatre Company at the Athenaeum Theatre in Chicago. When I walked in, I had no idea what to expect. The story demanded technological savvy and digital finesse – and they delivered. Using a minimalist set, plastic benches and aluminum gates became the school, Gitmo-on-the-bay, and Marcus’s home. Lighting and sound effects contributed to the emotional experience of the characters. I never quite understood the trauma of Marcus’s experience when he was detained until I saw him being manhandled and questioned by the DHS in a dimly lit cell. The audience was not protected from any of the horrors, even as far as witnessing Marcus’s water boarding scene. Actually observing someone being water boarded, even if it is theatrical, is enough to make it repugnant and horrifying – which, I suppose, is the point. The designers made the production as real as possible, including YouTube, local news, and security camera videos that amazed me in their authenticity. However, even those who are not particularly tech-savvy could understand the technical jargon and counterculture. When introducing new concepts, Marcus, played by the fantastic Mike Harvey, would speak directly to the audience and engage us in explanations about the X-Net, arphids, and LARPing. Each of the actors stepped into the role created by Cory Doctorow and made it his or her own. The highest praise I can give to an theatrical adaptation of a book is that it was true to the novel, and this production of Little Brother stirred the same questions and desire to disobey anyone ever twenty-five. Do yourself a favor and go see Little Brother before it closes on July 19th!

Little Brother Information:

Thursday, Friday & Saturday at 7:30pm and Sunday at 3:00pm.

Ticket $15 - $25.

For Tickets Call 800-982-2787. Tickets may be purchased in person up to one hour before showtime at the Athenaeum Theatre box office.

For general information about the production or to reserve your subscription seats please call 1-773-769-2228. Ext 1.

Athenaeum Theatre, 2936 North Southport Ave. Chicago.

You can also try http://www.hottix.org/ - just scroll down.

Meet Author Cory Doctorow at the July 9th performance! If anyone is interested in going with me to this performance, please let me know ASAP!

* Image above from the Griffin Theatre Blog - check out more amazing images from the production by going to http://griffintheatre.blogspot.com/

On the Trail of Beauty

2009-06-16T10:40:00.000-07:00

It is the tale of a boy with a hidden destiny, a destiny he can only share with his older mentor, discovering the secrets of the universe as he journeys alone in the world, with his faithful steed by his side. No, this is not a review of Eragon, Merlin, or any other fantasy book; it is the plot of Waterless Mountain by Laura Adams Armer, the winner of the 1931 Newbery Medal. Armer creates a portrait of a young Nevaho Indian boy who is coming to terms with his role as a Medicine Man. Younger Brother encounters transforming sights, natural and unnatural wonders, and assorted people that change the way that he looks at the world. Within Younger Brother’s story is an anthropological study of life within the Navaho community that gives the reader glimpses at their customs and spirit. Navaho mythology is told as part of the plot with references to Coyote, the Turquoise Woman, and many others. However, this book remains firmly in the realm of realistic fiction. The characters believe in their pantheon, but unlike fantasy, no gods will step from behind the curtain to prove their existence. Instead Younger Brother must search for truth and understanding himself to lead him on the path of beauty. As Armer tells Younger Brother’s tale, it is clear she has a deep love and reverence for the Navaho people and their way of life. It is impossible to discuss Indians without thinking about the Trail of Tears, or as they call it, the Long Walk. However, while the story could turn into a tirade against the evil Pelicanos (white people), it remains a story about personal growth and love of community. Through his adventures, Younger Brother finds a stash of ancient masks that been hidden and lost during the Long Walk, and reclaims them for his community. This discovery is celebrated with song, dance, and laughter in typical Navaho style. It is this spirit of excitement for life and joy in small experiences that transports the reader into the Arizona desert.

Favorite quote: “He who creates beauty never tires.”

Devil Cat

2009-06-16T10:34:00.000-07:00

Looking at my own devil cat Marco, who is currently absorbed in the effort of scratching every possible inch of my once perfect rug, it isn’t hard to imagine why cats are taboo in The Cat who went to Heaven by Elizabeth Coatsworth, winner of the 1930 Newbery Medal. Cats are masters of their own destinies, care little for social graces or rules, and refuse to make obeisance to anyone else. According to the book, cats did not pay homage to Buddha and were denied entrance into Heaven. Despite their wicked natures, it is impossible to deny them love, consideration, and bowls of food. The story begins when a poor artist is given a kitten by his housekeeper, and although he disapproves at first, the animal’s presence changes him forever. Anyone who has owned a pet can relate to the inspiring influence of animals. However, in the process of creating his art, the artist clashes with society to be true to himself. It is a revelation of Buddha’s compassion for all creatures at the end that clinches the message of the story. So much more can be said about this book with intertwined messages about beauty, honesty, and tolerance, but it is the simplicity of the tale that allows the narrative to speak for itself. It is a book that delves into complex concepts, but never talks down to its readers. It can be read on many levels, the basic cat aficionado level and the Eastern philosophy level, but no matter which way it is read, it is a pleasure.

Favorite quote: “Only a clear pool has beautiful reflections.”

Not a Barbie Girl

2009-06-07T21:47:00.000-07:00

With their wide eyes and open minds, children understand hidden worlds that adults can no longer see. Children can suspend their disbelief and imagine that there are wonderful things happening all around them in the most mundane objects and experiences. The winner of 1930 Newbery Medal, Hitty: Her First Hundred Days by Rachel Field, explores this possibility by chronicling the life of a beloved doll. As Hitty travels around the world through a series of chance encounters and accidents, she reflects on her experiences with good grace, a positive attitude, and the knowledge of an eventual happy ending. Hitty literally has no control of her life; her body of “well-seasoned mountain ash wood” is not made to move and she can only watch as the world changes around her. Through Hitty’s eyes, the reader sees the world of imperialists and missionaries shift to modern secular culture. This novel is as much as story of a nation as it is of a doll. Hitty is indeed a “rare bit of Americana,” she has seen America grow up, fight, and recover. She might even represent the insurmountable American spirit that dreams of a better world.
Children, however, care little for the subtleties of politics and history. For them, this book tells them what they already know: that being owned by a special child fulfills a doll’s life. Hitty has multiple owners but it is the girls that make her happiest. By sharing their adventures, fears, and triumphs, Hitty experiences true love, as dolls know it. Their association with this special doll, in turn, changes the girls, each in her own way. In our world where the most popular dolls are anatomically incorrect and distort children’s perceptions of beauty, it’s especially important for girls to read novels like this one that focus more on character development and kindness than in coiffure and fashion. As the first girl-focused Newbery Medal winner, Hitty’s story stands out as a precursor to the genre of Girl Power literature. Hitty started girls dreaming about the extraordinary possibility that their lives might be filled with adventure - and they haven’t stopped dreaming since.

Other Inanimate Objects Books:
The Velveteen Rabbit by Margery Williams

The Indian in the Cupboard by Lynne Reid Banks

The Castle in the Attic by Elizabeth Winthrop

Trumpeter of Krakow

2009-06-01T21:12:00.000-07:00

The Trumpeter of Krakow by Eric P. Kelly, winner of the 1929 Newbery Medal, finishes off the 1920s by epitomizing the essentials of what makes a good story. In a page-turning narrative, the thrilling story of Joseph and his family, refuges from the Ukraine who come to Krakow to fulfill a promise made by their ancestors. The lush style and language evokes the time period to transport the reader back to medieval Poland. The plot twists and turns to include a love interest for young Joseph, a villainous vigilante, a kind priest, and a confused alchemist. Throughout it all, the struggle between good and evil is held taunt like wire, but it is clear that good must triumph in the end, even if there are casualties. It is this message of morality and character development that makes this book worthy of the Newbery Medal, as a distinguished contribution to American literature for children.

ONE DECADE DOWN>>>MANY MORE TO GO.........

Don't Let the Pigeon . . . Transform your Life

2009-06-01T17:55:00.000-07:00

Pigeons conjure out two conflicting images in my head. I adore Mo Willems’s driving-mad Pigeon whose persistence hardly ever pays off, but he keeps trying regardless. On the opposite spectrum, there are the “rats with wings” that linger along the city streets by my apartment, who no longer have the healthy fear of humans that allow us to coexist. As I read Gay-Neck: The Story of a Pigeon by Dhan Gopal Mukerji, the winner of the 1928 Newbery Medal, I attempted to open my mind to the possibility that there might be a third way to perceive pigeons, a method from the East that allows all creatures to live in peace, whether they seek buses or crumbs.
Gay-Neck or “Chitra-griva” is raised in India by a devoted owner who truly cares about his welfare. Growing up in the presence of such love, Gray-Neck overcomes great odds against him time and again, including the facing the wrath of an eyrie of eagles, getting lost in the Himalayas, and coping with the effects of PTSD from his service in the Great War. Throughout Gay-Neck’s adventures, Mukerji grapples with sophisticated themes that prove that quality children’s literature does not talk down to children. One of the central ideas is the reverence for all life, man or animal. Grey-Neck himself says it best when he declares: “ . . . I am a soul; why should I be treated as a stone or shard?” (101). Animals are more than just pets; they are beloved friends who share the journey of life with us. Ghond, their “teacher in jungle lore” (27), is the arbiter of this philosophy throughout the novel, going as far to kiss Grey-Neck’s feet when the pigeon successfully brings a message to the Allies. In the midst of so much senseless destruction and death, a generation loaded with “fear, hate, suspicion and malice,” (173) the need to reaffirm life is as important as breathing or eating. No one is untouched by the darkness, and Gay-Neck becomes a shadow of his once iridescent self. It is only through the patience and wisdom of the Llamas, as well as the expertise of Ghond, that Gay-Neck is able to overcome the hate and fear to find the serenity to fly once again. This little pigeon, so seemingly inconsequential, teaches the reader to “live courage, breathe courage, and give courage” (197). By following Gay-Neck’s example, I might be a little nicer to the pigeons that flock on my block. And I just might let the Pigeon drive the bus.

Wild Horses Couldn't Drag Me Away

2009-05-31T22:07:00.000-07:00

I cried when Charlotte died. I shuddered with fear as Peter Rabbit ran for his life. I ached to drive the bus with Pigeon. I looked for a home of my own with Lyle, Lyle Crocodile. But no matter how hard I tried, I could not connect to Smokey, the main character in Smokey, the Cow Horse, the 1927 Newbery Medal winner. Written by Will James, it is the epic tale of Smokey, a wild horse who is tamed by cowboy named Clint. Through a series of unfortunate events, Smokey is separated from Clint and is transformed into “The Cougar,” a real mean piece of work this side of the Mississippi, a horse no man can handle – until the miraculous reappearance of Clint. What is set up as a riveting horse story ends up becoming 200+ pages of episodic ennui. While James masterfully describes lush settings, beautiful creatures, and uses cowboy slang like a real son of a gun, he is unable to capture the reader’s attention long enough to make us actually care about Smokey’s fate. It feels more like a documentary than a fictional narrative without the melodic voice of Morgan Freeman. Unlike most Animal Stories, Smokey does not have a voice or personality and thus, it is difficult to connect to his suffering or joy. I really tried to like Smokey, honest. One of my best friends is obsessed with horses and their rugged beauty and I wanted to understand her fascination with these noble beasts. But after reading Smokey, I don’t reckon that I can learn appreciation of horses without actually setting my eyes on them. It seems to me that people in the 20s must have had more experience with horses and could truly connect to the experiences that James describes. However, for city slickers like me, the closest I get to wild horses is watching the Discovery Channel. Pass the remote, please.

A Sorta Fairy Tale

2009-05-01T12:13:00.000-07:00

And I’m so sad, Like a good book, I can’t put this day back, A sorta fairy tale with you
– Tori Amos

A girl sits on the window seat of her room at the topmost level of her remote tower, looking wistfully across the dead city below for some sign of life. Hopelessness fills her throat like thick honey as she waits for what seems like an eternity. Finally, she decides to take matters into her own hands and texts, R u coming 2nite? U no I <3 U, but I Gtg, R.

We are currently experiencing a renaissance of reconstructed fairy tales that allow girls to be the masters of their own destinies. In every generation, authors have taken upon themselves to modernize centuries-old tales to make them relevant for modern audiences, and we are lucky to be experiencing a flood of excellent literature. The malleability of fairy tale archetypes is proof that the characters are timeless and are as significant today as when they were part of oral storytelling. Whether Rapunzel has a cell phone or dangerously long hair, the truths generated by her story remain the same and connect to readers in a powerful way. Several fabulous writers have been able to master this feat.
You cannot have a discussion about post-modern faerie without Francesca Lia Block. Using luscious poetry and sensual imagery, each of her original novels transport the reader into surreal worlds that show the magic of possibility. She retells classic fairy tales in her book, The Rose and the Beast. Stories like Cinderella, Snow White, and Beauty and the Beast are given an LA makeover to deal with darker issues of drug-use, abuse, and sexual awakening. FLB is not for the faint of heart, but if you appreciate honest, lush writing and butt-kicking heroines, you will love The Rose and the Beast.

Juliet Marillier also stands out as writer able to create entire worlds with her pen (or laptop). She retells Grimm’s Six Swans in her SevenWaters Trilogy (which includes Daughter of the Forest, Son of the Shadows, and Child of the Prophecy. Heir of Sevenwaters is a stand-alone novel but includes characters from the trilogy.) She evokes the mood of 13th century Ireland by taking painstaking care to include accurate details about history, geography, and mythology. However, it is her wonderful characters that transform a fairy tale into a personal tale of loss, love, and hope. I constantly come back to this trilogy and every time I gain a new insight about human behavior when I read it. Marillier accomplishes the same extraordinary feat in her retelling of the twelve dancing princesses in Wildwood Dancing and its companion, Cybele’s Secret. (When you read it, pay attention to spot another fairy tale within the story.) In Wildwood Dancing, four sisters are transported every full moon from their remote castle in Transylvania to the Other Kingdom. Faced with impossible choices, each sister must confront her own dreams and desires as they quickly grow up. While Marillier describes intricate fantastic worlds, she puts great effort in being consistent within the worlds she creates, a major point of contention for those who dislike fantasy writing. Still, there is sufficient “meat” in all of her stories to satisfy even the staunchest realist; while the magical creatures may not be real, the human emotions are, and will touch you in a powerful way. (As an aside, Juliet Marillier is currently undergoing treatment for breast cancer and if you have positive comments to share, you can contact her at juliet@julietmarillier.com.

Upon a Time, a series of novels from Simon Pulse, have been capitalizing on this trend. By publishing fairly short, but high quality retellings of fairy tales, Simon Pulse has created a series of books that engage readers of all ages. Writers like Cameron Dokey, Suzanne Weyn, and Debbie Viguie have retold the best classic stories. My favorites so far have been Midnight Pearls by Debbie Viguie (a retelling of the Little Mermaid) and Beauty Sleep by Cameron Dokey (a retelling of Sleeping Beauty). The stories themselves are as familiar as Cinderella’s glass slipper, but it is the unfamiliar layers that breathe new life into the old tales. You will not be disappointed when you sink your teeth into these books, which can be devoured in one sitting.
If you read any of these books, I would love to hear your reactions and insights. Feel free to post your comments to this post or email me at etiberland@gmail.com.

QUESTION OF THE WEEK:

Which fairy tale would you like to see retold and who would you like to write it?
I will include my answer in the next blog.

I have included a longer list of excellent retellings below for further reading. I personally recommend each one of these books. Let me know if you have more books to add to the list.

A Curse Dark as Gold by Elizabeth C. Bunce (Rumpelstiltskin)
Beastly by Alex Flinn (Beauty and the Beast)
Rapunzel’s Revenge by Shannn Hale (Graphic novel of Rapunzel)
Enchantment by Orson Scott Card (Sleeping Beauty)
The Swan Kingdom by Zoe Marriot (The Seven Swans)
The Wild Swans by Peg Kerr (The Seven Swans)
Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister and Mirror Mirror by Gregory Maguire
Mira, Mirror by Mette Harrison (Snow White)
Black Pearls: A Faerie Strand by Louise Hawes (Assorted Stories)
Ella Enchanted by Gail Carson Levine (Cinderella)
Just Ella by Margaret Peterson Haddix (Cinderella)
The Goose Girl by Shannon Hale (The Goose Girl)
A Wolf at the Door and Other Retold Fairy Tales by Terri Windling

Once Upon a Tale Books
The Storyteller's Daughter by Cameron Dokey (The Arabian Nights)
Snow by Tracy Lynn (Snow White)
Sunlight and Shadow by Cameron Dokey (The Magic Flute)
The Night Dance by Suzanne Weyn (The Twelve Dancing Princesses)
Golden by Cameron Dokey (Rapunzel)
Belle by Cameron Dokey (Beauty and the Beast)

Just for fun . . .
The Stinky Cheese Man And Other Fairly Stupid Tales by Jon Scieszka and illustrated by Lane Smith.

Tell me a Story

2009-05-01T11:47:00.000-07:00

In the world of Story, heroes are strong and true, able to overcome giants, witches, and their own egos. Cleverness, more than brute strength, is often the means to winning. Evil will raze the land, but good will always defeat the shadows with light. In our own fragmented world where nothing seems to make sense, we turn to Story to be comforted by the familiar structure that rewards goodness with happiness, effort with success, and hope with love.

The American Library Association understood the importance of universal storytelling when they awarded the 1925 Newbery Medal to Charles Finger for Tales from Silver Lands and the 1926 Newbery Medal to Arthur Bowie Chrisman for Shen of the Sea. Both of these books stand out as exemplary literature that capture the essence of what makes a story worth telling.
Tales from Silver Lands is a collection of folktales from the Indians of South America. Finger gathered these stories himself by setting out on adventures across South America, and it clear from his writing that he deeply respected, and was fascinated by, the culture of the Indians. His book is a generous mixture of twice-told tales, hero stories, and magical occurrences. Truths are revealed within the narrative of the stories that give readers a glimpse into the values of the Indian’s culture. Nature in all its glory is lauded in rich prose throughout the stories with a sense of appreciation for all creatures and plants. (After all, you never know when the animals of the forest might save your hide from a gruesome witch!) The importance of hard work and industry are trademarks of these stories, showcased in The Tale of the Lazy People, whose sloth is rewarded by an army of wooden manikins who take over their village, and then become monkeys. This tale especially resonates in our modern world of autonomous robots only years away, according to sci-fi literature. As a departure from Western tales, where wishes are awarded with the fulfillment of all the dreamer’s hopes, Finger’s stories show the dangers of wishing. Oscar Wilde expressed the risks beautifully by saying: “There are two tragedies in life. One is not getting what you want. The other is getting it." In The Bad Wishers, a mother wishes for children, only to see her wishes go awry when her children are born. However, through many trials and tribulations, a happy ending is orchestrated for this unfortunate family to fit the fairy tale framework.

Like Finger, Chrisman shares the cultural philosophy of his subject, the Chinese people, within Shen of the Sea. As a young man, Chrisman set out on an adventure, ending up in California. There he befriended a Chinese shopkeeper, who fascinated him by sharing stories about demons, emperors, fools, and dragons. Throughout the stories, Chrisman shares little details with the reader to make the world of ancient China come to life. Respecting your elders is paramount in his stories, as seen in Buy a Father. In Buy a Father, a young orphan joins his new father, only to be given impossible tasks and mistreatment. However, the orphan’s pleasant disposition and respectful attitude pays off when the father turns out to be the Emperor. Even a wicked child like Ah Mee (in Ah Mee’s Invention) listens to the stern warning from his father not to play dragons in his honorable uncle’s cabbage patch, and forbids himself from even thinking of loongs (dragons). Instead, he plays elephant. Ah Mee is also credited to be the accidental inventor of printing. (Check out Chop-sticks to find out why Chopsticks became all the rage or Ah Tcha the Sleeper to discover the origins of tea.) Fate holds great power in these stories, where portents and signs are taken very seriously. In How Wise were the Old Men, the wise men predict that the birth of Meng Hu was a bad omen (mei chi), which seems to be true until Meng Hu uses his fate to his benefit. Similarly, in The Moon Maiden, a terrible threat to the princess’s life leads Prince Ting Tzun to his own love, the Moon Maiden. While one cannot outrun their fate, somehow these characters can find loopholes in their dark futures and cleverly trick their way into happy endings.

Both of these collections are replete with wisdom from worlds of the past, expressed through the language, culture, and history of these cultures. By using the South American and Chinese narrative style and language, both authors retain the tone of oral storytelling that inspired these stories. After reading these collections, we should be motivated to tell our own stories because each of us has a tale to tell.
I can’t wait to hear yours.

The Taste of Freedom

2009-04-13T08:32:00.000-07:00

At my Passover Seder this year, one of the parts that made the biggest impression on me was an activity about freedom. My hosts poured a bag of quotes about freedom into the center of the table and everyone was told to choose a quote that he or she connected to and explain how it was meaningful to them. I picked the following quote from Abraham Lincoln that states, “Those who deny freedom to others deserve it not for themselves.” This resonated with me for many reasons, but particularly in light of the reading I have been doing. I just finished reading Chains, an incredible novel by Laurie Halse Anderson, the author of Speak and Catalyst. She tells the story of Isabel, a teenage slave, who is sold to loyalists in Manhattan during the American Revolution. While our forefathers were fighting for freedom and talking about inalienable rights, they left a large portion of the population in chains. In lyrical prose, Anderson describes the day-to-day struggle of a young girl who questions the system and takes her destiny into her own hands. Often underestimated, Isabel is able to hear important information from her owners and pass it on to the revolutionaries, but the rebels are hardly her saviors. Instead, Isabel must find redemption and a place to call home on her own. Stories like Isabel’s are essential to understanding our own place in history, on the backs of those who were enslaved, and necessary to wipe away the rosy gloss that covers our forefathers’ memory. Like M.T. Anderson’s Octavian Nothing, Isabel questions the value of freedom for those who deny her the basic rights of human beings. Using meticulous historical research and intricate details, Anderson takes the reader back in time to confront these contradictions. Like the Seder, which is supposed to help the participants re-experience the slavery and redemption from Egypt, Anderson’s novel draws readers in to put themselves in Isabel’s shackled shoes, walk around for a while, and learn to appreciate the freedom that we have not earned.

Chains by Laurie Halse Anderson
A+
Powerful story, rethinking history, beautifully written

Other Amazing Books about Freedom:

Feed by M.T. Anderson

Martin's Big Words by Doreen Rappaport, artwork by Bryan Collier

Beware of God by Sholem Auslander

Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury

The Giver by Lois Lowry

Brave New World by Aldous Huxley

V for Vendetta by Alan Moore

Guardian by Julius Lester

To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee

The Devil's Arithmetic by Jane Yolen

Roll of Thunder, Hear my Cry by Mildred D. Taylor

Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson

Matilde by Roald Dahl

Non-Fiction

The Feminine Mystique by Betty Friedan

Man's Search for Meaning by Viktor Frankel

Jack Sparrow almost rescues book

2009-04-12T22:16:00.000-07:00

If The Dark Frigate, the 1924 winner of the Newbery Award, would have had Johnny Depp in it, I’m sure I would have enjoyed it much more. However, sans Jack Sparrow, I was left metaphorically up a creek without a paddle while reading this book. I tried to put the events and characters into the Pirates of the Caribbean model just to stay awake. The Dark Frigate has all the elements of a good pirate story: an orphaned boy searching for his place in the world, a band of ruthless pirates who impress his ship, and several storms. However, even Jerry Bruckheimer couldn’t salvage this story. The dialogue was archaic and hard to follow, leaving the reader confused about the plot and the sequence of events. The characters were flat and boring, even the villains. And the villains are the sorest band of lollygaggers I have seen, who constantly plan to do damage to the good townspeople but always manage to bungle it. I wish I could have developed some resentment for the darn pirates who ruin our poor Phillip’s easy voyage, but honestly, they are so incompetent, it is comical. I did enjoy the descriptions of the fantastic vistas that Phillip encounters, but as a whole like the second installment of the Pirates trilogy, I read this book to get through it and moved on to the next one.

The Dark Frigate by Charles Boardman
C-
Confusing plot, language, characters
Beautiful description of scenery and locations

Hungry like the Wolf

2009-03-29T20:19:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I feel like a vampire. No, not a Twilightesque soulful, redemption-seeking hottie who only wants to do what’s right. Instead, I feel the deep hunger of one who has tasted something sweet and wants more – lots more. For me, my craving comes in the form of my obsession with my two new favorite writers, Alex Flinn and Barry Lyga. Both of these writers look deeply into the darkness in all of us without judgment or stereotyping and show how incredible human beings really are. (Take that, vampires!) Flinn tackles the very relevant topics of dating violence and abuse in Breathing Underwater by creating flesh and blood characters who make mistakes and learn from them without preaching. A masterful storyteller, she is able to capture the voice of Nick, a teenage boy who gradually discovers why he hurts the girl he loves. (If you like this book, check out Diva, the continued story of Caitlin, Nick’s ex-girlfriend.) No issue is ever black and white in an Alex Flinn novel and she shows the shades of grey with grace and understanding. In Nothing to Lose, Michael runs away to escape his stepfather – and the threat of being tried for murder hanging over him. Like a tapestry, she gradually describes the factors that effect his choices and their consequences. Nothing is ever as it appears in Fade to Black where three witnesses see Alex Crusan, an HIV-positive student, attacked. Flinn tells this story in the voice of all three witnesses to give readers the chance to open their minds to the possible truth and their own biases. Using her background as a former attorney and work with battered women, she offers a candid perspective about difficult issues that need to be discussed openly. Beastly, her most recent novel, is a modern retelling of the Beauty and the Beast story complete with a fairy-tale chat room, New York City ambiance, and true love. This is my favorite Alex Flinn novel so far; I could read it a hundred times and get something new out of it each time.

Barry Lyga’s first novel, The Astonishing Adventures of Fanboy and Goth Girl, taps into the outsider in each of us and makes us feel less alone. We are all searching for someone who understands us, who gets our obsessions and accepts us for who we are, which Lyga intrinsically understands. When Fanboy deals with bullies, a step-fascist and new half brother or sister, and school, he expresses himself with humor and creativity. Lyga’s unique style of writing uses a vocabulary and approach of its own that is unfailingly comic even at the most embarrassing/painful times. It is this balance of humor and tragedy that helps the reader cope with the awful realities that he describes. In Boy Toy, Lyga tells the story of Josh, who was molested by his teacher in middle school. By juxtaposing the present (senior year of high school) and the past (seventh grade), Lyga creates well-rounded characters who are flawed and human. Even Eve, the teacher, is a person, not a monster, with her own set of issues that make her who she is. Lyga does not rationalize behavior, but helps us understand it. I believe that this is an essential book to read that deals with a complicated topic with sensitivity and without sugarcoating. Lyga’s most recent book, Hero-Type, is my favorite of his novels and flips the idea of becoming a hero on its head. When Kevin Ross saves Leah Muldoon’s life, he suddenly becomes a hero to the community and his reputation instantly changes. But does one act change a dark secret that he has been hiding? The questions that Hero-Type asks are ones we must ask ourselves, and there are no easy answers. What I love most about Alex Flinn and Barry Lyga’s novels is that they push me to consider all sides before passing judgment, to question the biases I may have that make me react to situations. Everyone deserves the benefit of the doubt and compassion. While I wait with bated breathe to read the next Alex Flinn novel and Goth Girl Rising (due Fall 2009), I know that rereading all their novels will only give me more clarity and understanding for the human race.

But I’m still hungry.

Vid-Lit for the Astonishing Adventures of Fanboy and Goth Girl

Meeting Rosemary Wells

2009-03-21T21:31:00.000-07:00

My associations with illustrious writer Rosemary Wells used to have everything to do with my brother. My brother’s name is Max, so of course, my mother read us the Max and Ruby series constantly. I played the part of Ruby with finesse, enlisting my brother in mischievous schemes and instructing him in the important facts of life. It always seemed unfair to me, however, that my brother had namesakes in so many books, especially two of the best ones. The other one being Maurice Sendak’s Max in Where the Wild Things Are. (I have one mention of my name in The Harder They Come soundtrack, but I can hardly count that.) Trying not to be bitter, I left work early to join other aficionados of children’s literature at Esme’s Gingerbread Apartment and meet Rosemary Wells. To my surprise, I found myself connecting my experience to my father, Andy, instead of my brother. Rosemary Wells discussed and read from Lincoln and His Boys, a unique biography that shows a different side of Lincoln through the eyes of his children. She extensively researched Lincoln’s relationship with his children, as well as the political events of the time, in order to make sure all details were “grounded in historical fact” (95). By making Willie and Tad the narrators, the reader catches a glimpse of Lincoln when he was the most unguarded, behind closed doors with his family. We see him as a warm, playful father who tries to explain the complexities of politics and war to his young, inquisitive sons. Wells herself has become an expert about Lincoln after her years of research and it was fascinating to hear her debunk some of the myths about Lincoln and his times. Like her, my father is obsessed with Lincoln, and is always excited to read the latest biography of Lincoln’s life. I think that my father’s interest with Lincoln comes from his own passion for racial equality and humanitarianism, which he has transferred to me throughout the years. Reading about a father’s special relationship with his children makes me appreciate the close connection that I share with mine. And when I stood in line to have my book signed, I knew exactly how I wanted to have it done: “To Eti, Max, and Andy – Rosemary Wells.”

Lincoln and His Boys by Rosemary Wells
Illustrated by P.J. Lynch
A+
Historically accurate
Beautiful and important dialogue
Captures emotion
Leaves reader wanting more – go on to read more books about Lincoln

Rosemary Wells's Website

Special thanks to Rivka P. for joining me (and providing transportation) for this excursion.

King Kong, Kipling, and Kindness

2009-03-21T19:16:00.000-07:00

The Voyages of Doctor Dolittle by Hugh Lofting
Winner of the 1923 Newbery Award (Newbery Winner #2)

When I opened this book, I expected to be bored with I assumed to be a “boy’s book,” a book of exciting adventures and high jinks that offered little to a female reader. However, I was pleasantly surprised with how much I connected to this novel. Just like the characters in the book, as I began to know the good Doctor, I found myself liking him more and more. I particularly enjoyed his stance on animal rights, which seemed to be expressed far before its time. When the young narrator, Tommy Stubbins, asks Doctor Dolittle if he has any lions or tigers in his menagerie, the Doctor emphatically explains that he would never deprive these animals of “the glory of the African sunrise . . . the twilight breeze whispered through the palms . . . the green shade of the matted, tangled palms . . . the patter of the waterfall after a hard day’s hunt. . . {for} a bare cage with iron bars; an ugly piece of dead meat thrust in to them once a day; and a crowd of fools to come and stare at them with open mouths” (59). I wonder if this was a revolutionary idea in the 1920s. (The image of King Kong (1933) battling with airplanes atop the Empire State Building comes to mind when I think of the consequences of capturing wild animals.) Doctor Dolittle did not think too kindly of using animals for sport either. When he is passing through Monteverde, he discovers that a bullfight is happening the next day, a pastime he considers “cruel {and} cowardly” (168). He, of course, defeats the current hotshot bullfighter by convincing the bulls to put on a show for the last time, where he is the victor. And the spoils of the contest? The end of bullfighting in Monteverde. Doctor Dolittle exemplifies selfless kindness and consideration to all creatures. Without preaching, he shows children how to be a good person in an flawed world. In Doctor Dolittle’s world, there is murder, war, exploitation of natural resources, animal cruelty, and bigotry, but there is also a person who stands up for those who have no voice, whether they are human or animal, black or white. The most telling example of Doctor Dolittle’s character is when he is made King of Spidermonkey Island, which he fights tooth and claw (no pun intended) to reject. He has no interest in power or wealth, but simply wants to spend his time “as a useful naturalist” (288). This incident reminds me of Kipling’s short story The Man Who Would Be King about imperialists who take advantage of another culture by making themselves “gods” over the natives. Colonialism has no effect on the incorruptible Dolittle, who respects the natives for who they are and only seeks to make their lives better through modern conveniences like sanitation and fire. Lofting himself wrote, “If we make children see that all races, given equal physical and mental chances for development, have about the same batting averages of good and bad, we shall have laid another very substantial foundation stone in the edifice of peace and internationalism” (355). By reading this novel, children are the right path to gaining the values of respect, tolerance, and kindness – which all children, boys and girls, should encounter in their lives as readers.

Grade: A+
Page-turning plot
Important messages
Dynamic characters and dialogue
Lush pictures by Michael Hague (2001 Edition)

Newbery Winner #1: The Story of Mankind

2009-03-07T21:20:00.000-08:00

The Story of Mankind by Hendrik Willem Van Loom

They say that all beginnings are hard. Based on my experience reading the first book to win the Newbery award, it must be true. It took me weeks to get through this book and digest the epic story within it. This is not to say that I did not enjoy it or that it was not well written, but part of me wonders if people in the 1920s had longer attention spans and were, well, nicer. Throughout the book it is clear that van Loom has retained his faith in humanity and our good intentions. This surprised me the most since he had just witnessed one of the darkest times for Mankind, the first World War, and yet he still saw the good in people. He employed none of the cynicism prevalent in modern histories, but tried to give unbiased views of politics, religion, and society. He seamlessly injects himself into the narrative and talks about the difficulties in writing an objective history, remaining humble and apologetic until the end. Try finding one historian or politician that does that today! Towards the end of the book, he clearly explains that his view is shaped by his life in Protestant Holland for the purpose of the readers “know{ing} the personal bias of the man who wrote this history and may understand his point of view” (477). In an imperfect world, van Loom attempted to show children the world as it was and what it could be. And in a time like ours, when we are fraught with uncertainty and angst, it is refreshing to remember the fundamental goodness of mankind and how much we have overcome over the centuries.

Grade: A-
Well-written with engaging style and dialogue
Too long
Modern version updates history until Internet (not written by van Loom)
Excellent illustrations

Welcome!

2009-01-18T20:07:00.001-08:00

Welcome to From Cover to Cover, my very own children's literature blog! Now you might say, what makes this blog different than other YA blogs that litter the blogosphere with words like "Team Jacob/Edward," OMG, and snog? Well, this blog, unlike other blogs, can speak with a British accent.. But really, my blog will rock and I'll tell you why:

Top 3 1/2 reasons why From Cover is Cover is Awesome

1. I'm writing it so by the associate property if I am awesome, then the blog I write is awesome. it's just simple math.

2. I will provide reviews of similar books for those who are obsessed with a writer/genre and want more. Say you're a Holly Black addict, I'll get you your faerie fix without engaging in illegal activities. Just call me your dealer... I mean book dealer...

3. Marvel in wonder as I attempt the impossible - or at least unrealistic. Like my good friend (read: latest favorite author that I have yet to meet), A.J. Jacobs, who read the entire Encyclopaedia Britannica, I will attempt to glean a wealth of knowledge from a huge selection of books: The Newbery Award winners. My goal is to read all (in print) Newbery Award books and hopefully learn something in the process. I will keep you posted as I attempt to avoid paper cuts and discover if all these books hold up to the scrutiny of time and Harry Potter. (It wouldn't be a YA blog if I didn't mention Harry in the first post would it?)

4. What was I saying? Oh yeah, I'll happily go off on tangents about any random thing that you want to know about. Feel free to share your recommendations, your black lists, your favorite book reading snacks...

Just remember...........
Don't judge a book by its cover!

- Eti