Eat, Read, and Be Mommy

That’s what I spent the evening doing, and it’s a good thing, but my sciatic is now officially done for the day.  Which means no real post, because sitting on my bar stool for long enough to review anything is something I cannot face.  Signing off!

Okay, not any more, but my delightful niece, along with her boyfriend and his cousin/her good friend, came to dinner tonight and helped me turn the strawberries I bought at Ream’s on Saturday into freezer jam.  (Not that my freezer is currently working at the moment–I don’t want to talk about it.)  Which is why I didn’t get on the treadmill until after 10:30 and I’m only now sitting down to write this blog post.

At 11:39.

SO, here’s the Reader’s Digest condensed version of Sid Fleischman’s The 13th Floor:  A Ghost Story.  Imagine a mashup of the Goonies, Treasure Island, Back to the Future, and The Witch of Blackbird Pond.  Now imagine that the mashup is also first cousins with The True Confessions of Charlotte Doyle, and you’ve more or less got it; it’s a fast-moving, adventurous, and funny tale of pirates, time travel, and old New England.  If your elementary school-er likes any of those things, this ought to be a good fit; it should also be good for reluctant readers.  (I quite enjoyed it as well.)  Check it out!

Have I mentioned how badly I’ve slacked at reading last year’s Newberys?  I read the one that was basically a long picture book, but the other three were all close to (or over) 300 pages, and life just feels BUSY, you know?  I am, however, very pleased to report that I’ve managed to finish the second of last year’s four in the same month that–ahem–this year’s winners were announced.

No, I’m not being sarcastic.  I’m owning it.  Why not?

Anyway.

Adam Gidwitz’s The Inquisitor’s Tale:  Or, The Three Magical Children and Their Holy Dog was not at all what I expected.  I wasn’t particularly looking forward to reading it when it won (I tend to avoid the Middle Ages in my fiction, overall), and I started it when I did because I was hoping that the illustrations would make it a shorter choice than some of the others I was considering.  (They didn’t, not really.)  But once I’d started it…wowsers.  Gidwitz sucked me in and started blowing me away.

How does one review a book that packs so MUCH into 337 pages?  (Not counting the author’s notes at the end, which were long AND fascinating.)  It’s at once hilarious and heartbreaking.  It has quite the contemporary feel–the people feel like regular people–and yet the medieval setting is magnificently created.  It occasionally flirts with crude humor, but how many books for kids in the 21st century debate religion and the motivations of God?  The very essence of the plot is based in faith.  Possibly Gidwitz has a bit of Kate DiCamillo’s gift for blending the mundane with the cosmic (I’m thinking The Tale of Despereaux here); the concept of martyrdom is one of the book’s major themes, while a peculiarly potent French cheese is an ongoing metaphor for life (and a key plot device).

Blech.  I sound like I’m writing a paper on it, when what I want to say is that Gidwitz’s book wowed me.  Humor, fear, suspense, love, the reality and nature of God–it’s like a cup full to the very brim, and yet so well written and focused that not a drop spills over.  It’s the kind of good that needs to be read, especially now.  It’s strange and sad and funny and awe-inspiring and kind of amazing, and why are you still reading my late-night ramblings when you could be reading The Inquisitor’s Tale?  Go get it and get started.

I’m going to bed.

My dishwasher died this morning, folks, and I’m feeling it already.  My hubby’s consulting Consumer Reports and investigating the possibility of leftover President’s Day sales, you understand, but at this moment, my dishwasher is dead.

Have I mentioned how much I hate washing dishes by hand?

Anyway.  That being the case, I’m going to do a barely there review–I read the second Franny K. Stein book tonight (Attack of the 50-Ft. Cupid), and it was entertaining, fabulously illustrated, and oddly successful in its occasional moments of poignancy.  (I don’t prefer the word “butt” myself, but it is what it is; it’s used only a couple of times, and never really gratuitously.)  I’m setting it out for my kiddos to read, and I’m sort of looking forward to the next one, so if you need a short, easy chapter book series, this is continuing to be worth it.

My oldest checked Svetlana Chmakova’s Awkward out of her school library a couple of weeks ago, and when she finished it she assured me that I just HAD to read it before she returned it.  It’s a graphic novel (and it was on my list anyway!), so I told her I could make that happen–and I’m so glad I did, even though I was apprehensive at first.  The book starts with the main character–under stress–lashing out at an innocent bystander, which is bad enough, and then suffering agonies of remorse for weeks rather than apologizing in person.  Yes, I know facing up to the injured party is hard, but how can it be worse than feeling guilty about it nonstop?  Spit it out already!

I’ve always struggled with that sort of plot; it would have killed The Kite Runner for me if that book hadn’t been so ridiculously beautiful.  But I digress.

Thankfully, it doesn’t take Peppi the entire book to make amends, and the way in which that scene plays out is an unexpected pleasure.  As for the rest of the book, well–it’s a pleasure, too.  The characters are (mostly) likable and feel alive in a way that has everything to do with the author’s skill, and the conflict and resolution between the Art Club and the Science Club make for a lovely and entertaining fable about growth through making the effort to find common ground and build unity.  (And if THAT sounds stuffy and moralistic, there’s fighting and pranks and punishments by the principal until the two groups figure out a way to live with each other–mostly.)  It’s a book about friendship and compromise, and NOT a book about middle school love–in other words, a winner on both counts!  Don’t miss this one.

I picked up The Whole World’s Crazy (Amelia Rules! #1) to see if it was appropriate for my graphic novel-loving 8-year-old, and I really am divided in my impressions.  On the one hand, I’m not planning on giving it to my girlie to read; the level of name-calling and rude remarks by most of the kids in the book is not something I feel the need to invite into my home.  (Getting called on it twice in 168 pages isn’t enough, at least not for me).  Honestly, it reminds me of the 80s movies I loved as a kid and my mother hated and avoided having me watch; Ferris Bueller’s sister talked the same way, and then there were the Goonies…yeah.  Ah, the perspective parenthood brings!

The objectionable conversational habits of the child characters, however, aren’t the whole story.  There is actual friendship here, albeit buried beneath the insults, and there are generosity and emotional honesty as well.  It also feels–authentic, perhaps?  Amelia is dealing with typical child-of-divorce problems, and she was completely believable for me.  AND hilarious, I have to say.  As a parent, I had real problems with this one despite the good I could see; as a person, I got rather a large kick out of it and kind of want to read the next one on the sly.  I’ll leave you to choose what you want to do for YOUR household!

That’s a win-win, right?  I seriously wasn’t expecting to like this Easy Mexican Chicken Soup as much as I did; it was more of a ‘I need an easy dinner plan and this can’t be terrible’ kind of recipe.  (I’m not the only one who tries the occasional recipe with that attitude, right?)  And while I did take the extra few minutes to saute the onion and garlic before putting it in the crockpot, because FLAVOR, it was still almost criminally easy.  I didn’t bother whisking the spices into the chicken broth–I just dumped them on the chicken together with some bouillon cubes and poured water over the top.  We topped the finished soup with cheese alone, since I’d forgotten to somehow obtain cilantro and we were out of sour cream as well, and that gave the fairly clear broth some body and an almost (but not quite) creamy look.  It was tasty!  The most impressive surprise was the flavor, because it managed to be more than just the sum of its ingredients.  (Although it was also blessedly flexible in the cook time department; I started with frozen chicken but realized an hour or two later that I’d forgotten to plug in the crockpot.  I NEVER do that!)  All in all, you should definitely give this a try on your next busy day.

Just remember to plug in your crockpot.

I seriously struggled with what to review tonight, because I tried a new recipe that was both easy and better than I thought it would be, BUT I finished a book last week that’s been kicking around, and reviewing it would make it possible for it to LEAVE MY HOUSE.  Which, when it comes right down to it, trumps the soup recipe for today.  (Something leaving my house is hard to beat.)  Before I start that, though, I did listen to the ALA Youth Media Awards broadcast yesterday–yay for it being in my time zone this year!–and I have to say, I didn’t see a few of those titles coming.  The definite theme to the awards wasn’t shocking, because there’s always a level of awareness of the most visible social/cultural issues reflected in the winners, but at least one of the Newbery Honor books looked awfully young-adulty to me.  I have them all (the Newberys) on hold at the library, of course, so I’ll know for myself eventually.  In the meantime, if you want to see the winners’ list in full, here’s your link:

ALA Youth Media Award Winners

And now, for the book review!  I’m sure Goodreads will tell me when I started Bewitched & Betrayed on the treadmill, but the fact of the matter is, I’m probably better off not knowing.  I have to be in the mood for whatever I read on the treadmill, and I’m not often in the mood for urban fantasy.  On the other hand, when I AM in the mood for a hit-the-ground-running-and-never-stop sort of fantasy with a contemporary feel (although not a contemporary setting), Lisa Shearin’s Raine Benares series is tough to beat.  It sucks you in immediately and keeps you reading to the bitter end.  (Okay, yes, I did put it down for quite a while, but I’d only gotten through the first scene or so before I lost the mood and wasn’t ready to fall into the action.  Once I was back in the mood and got past the–brief–initial scenes, I wasn’t about to stop again.)  The writing isn’t perfect–Raine’s invocation of her last name to explain various sorts of things starts to get awfully frequent in this 4th book in the series–but it’s tight and funny and entertaining as heck.  (On the other hand, I’ve officially reached the age when I find myself wishing that the font were a bit bigger, but that’s something else entirely.)

B&B sees Raine going after the escaped evil goblin who’s going after her; it gives us a few new characters to root for and takes a big step towards resolving the series’ love triangle, which is always a plus for me.  I certainly wouldn’t jump into the series at the fourth book, but if my description sounds at all like your thing, grab Magic Lost, Trouble Found, fasten your seat belt, and prepare to enjoy a six book ride.

I was totally going to review a book today, but we had 7 dinner guests and now I’m just poopered.  On the other hand, tomorrow is the ALA broadcast, and this year it’s taking place in MY time zone!  I think this link might take you there…

http://ala.unikron.com/2018/index_home.php

Have I mentioned yet that my second girlie is now in the genre report third grade class?  And while we have definitely benefited from her older sister’s experience, girlie #2 could not get into the sci-fi title that girlie #1 read.  Which means that I’ve been brainstorming and looking around online, and my friend Britt has been brainstorming and looking around online, and I now have three books out of the library that had potential but weren’t 300-400 pages long (because that’s not going to happen with any book that isn’t my girlie’s own idea).  I skimmed Cakes in Space on the treadmill and then handed it off to #2, who thought it could be fun.  (It was HILARIOUS.)  Last night I read Lunch Walks Among Us (Franny K. Stein, Mad Scientist #1), and while it’s too easy for her to do a report on (I’m a mean mom that way), it merited its own review, because it was thoroughly (if bizarrely!) entertaining.  While set up as a chapter book, it’s heavily illustrated with impressively sized font; it’s not going to intimidate a new or struggling reader the way many 100-page books might.  And both Franny and the series of books she stars in have quite their own style, one fairly evenly split between creepy and wildly amusing.  Rather than risk spoilers, I will simply recommend this wholeheartedly to lower elementary school readers, because it’s engaging and incredibly entertaining and says some important things about friendship besides.

Oh, and I’ll leave you with a sample passage.  This would be right after Franny’s teacher gets abducted by a monster…

The kids just stood there.  They didn’t know how to help.  A few tried crying.  A few tried screaming.  One tried wetting his pants,

although later on he admitted he had no idea why he thought that might help.

Some of Franny’s new friends hugged her and shrieked, but Franny didn’t shriek.

Franny thought.