Eat, Read, and Be Mommy

So…it’s been a bit. Last Wednesday we had a joint YW/YM activity and a brief youth leader meeting afterward; by the time I got home my “heading to bed eventually” routine sucked me in. On Friday I decided that since it’d been a crazy busy day I wouldn’t do back-to-back reviews on the 31st and 1st; on Saturday my son was baptized into The Church of Jesus Christ of Latterday Saints. We could only have 20 people in the building for the actual event, which was certainly a different experience, but while Covid can change a lot of things superficially, the most important things remain the same. Family members who couldn’t fit waited and celebrated with us afterward, and the church leaders appointed to represent their organizations knew and cared about my son. There was so much love to go around.

Now–if you know me at all, you know that while I know HOW to be a diligent housekeeper, my execution struggles, and so you already know that our family spent several days before the baptism cleaning and organizing (and sweating, because heat wave). I listened to Marissa Meyer’s Scarlet during much of that, finishing it on Friday with no mean sense of accomplishment. Sci-Fi and dystopian are two of my least favorite genres; I read Cinder because it was a book club pick and liked it because I love a good fairy tale retelling, especially one with such an incredibly creative premise. I borrowed Scarlet from Britt shortly afterwards, but I’ve been putting it off because a)not my thing, b)stage of life, and c)memories of its predecessor were growing decidedly faint. My oldest wanted to read the series, however, and the books’ availability on audio saved me. I listened to Cinder at double speed so that I wouldn’t be completely lost with the sequels, and when Scarlet came in I put Cress on hold so I could move right along. (Last I checked it said I still have a 5 week wait, but it doesn’t often take the full time.) On Friday night, then, I finished listening to Scarlet.

Hmmm.

It’s worth mentioning that while “Cinderella” is one of my favorite fairy tales, I can take or leave “Little Red Riding Hood.” That said, Meyer’s retelling was (again) incredibly creative, and while it took me a bit longer to get sucked into Scarlet, I did get sucked in. It’s rather darker than its predecessor, with a different level and variety of passionate intensity, but the ending was just as nail-biting (I’m making that word work here)–and almost as cruel of a cliffhanger. Having finished Scarlet, I’m glad Britt cautioned me against letting my almost-11-year-old start the series–it’s definitely shaping up to be a teen read–but I’m guessing my 13-and-a-half-year-old will be riveted.*

*By the by, I did quite enjoy the Hans Solo character.

I didn’t actually check Primates: The Fearless Science of Jane Goodall, Dian Fossey, and Birute Galdikas out of the library myself; my friend Britt checked it out for her animal-loving daughter and then sent it my way during quarantine once they were finished with it. I’ve had it ever since, and since it’s likely to be due any day now, I brought it to Idaho with me last week. I don’t get a great deal of time to read while visiting Idaho, but a shorter graphic novel is the perfect sort of book for just that reason. I started it my first night there and finished it the next, and I learned all kinds of things I didn’t know.

For starters, I’d never heard of Birute (please imagine an accent mark over that “e”) Galdikas OR her orangutan research. The name Dian Fossey rang a bell, but I don’t think I could have linked her to gorillas without help; Jane Goodall was the only one of the three women I really knew about. Reading Primates taught me something about all three–their focus areas, their methods, and the attitudes with which they approached their work. I found it fascinating, and my older girls found it interesting as well; I’m actually excited to look into similar nonfiction graphic novels. If you have an animal- or science-lover in latter elementary school or beyond, this one’s definitely worth a read, and if you don’t, well…it still is.

And full of birthday cake, actually–it was delayed but delicious! We’re also back from Idaho, where we went for 4 days or so; we wanted to see the regular Idaho family, true, but my nephew and niece and their toddler were visiting from Florida at my sister’s, and I absolutely wanted to see them. It was an all-around good time with family…and now we’re home.

Anyway. Last night I finished listening to The Gammage Cup, a Newbery Honor winner from 1960. The County Library’s Goodreads summer reading challenge this year is for fantasy (and mythology, folklore, etc.), and so I scoured my list of remaining Newberys for books that would fit the bill. The Gammage Cup is not only fantasy, but it’s available in audio. (Score!) As I listened, I found myself getting a quietly hobbit-like vibe; the Minnipins are a peaceful people who value their village and their traditions–and their comforts. Carol Kendall was likely inspired by Tolkien, of coure–what post-1930s fantasy writers weren’t?–but she used that inspiration to create a story that did NOT just feel like a Hobbit retelling, and bless her for that. Instead, this is a story about learning to value individuality, personal integrity, and traditions based on the facts of history. Slipper-on-the-Water learns to value its village oddballs, and its most self-important citizens learn wisdom, and who doesn’t love that sort of story? The turn-around of those self-important citizens–as well as the unabashed otherness of the enemy–make it a very neatly wrapped up children’s story, to be sure, but that’s exactly what it is meant to be. It was still an enjoyable read for me, and I rarely read fantasy; it’s also approachably but not simply written. (It’s possible that “approachably” isn’t an official word, but it’s working for me.) If you’ve got an 8-12-year-old who’s into tales of other lands–or who doesn’t quite fit the common mold–this is a completely worthwhile read.*

*My apologies if this isn’t as polished of a review as I might have preferred–the 5-year-old had a bad dream at 5 am, and I never really got back to sleep. Here’s hoping to a better night (and later morning) to come!

I missed the 17th because it was my birthday and I was distracted, and now we’re headed into family time. I’ll see you at the end of the week!

I was thrilled to win a copy of Susan Wiggs’ The Lost and Found Bookshop in a Goodreads giveway; if there’s anything better than a book, it’s a book about books, right? (Or about food…or about history…really, nothing’s better than books.) What I discovered as I read, however, is that Wiggs’ novel is two things more than anything else–a love story involving life changes and growth and a love song for the city of San Francisco. It’s clear that Wiggs loves books and reading, yes, but I was a bookseller for 10 years, and this just didn’t feel like a book about the bookstore. Of course, the description on the back does an excellent job of describing the book as it is, so perhaps I was just misled by the title? (I’m also pretty picky, having worked as a bookseller for 10 years; her editor should have been pickier about a few of the publication dates of the titles she mentions.*)

At any rate, this was mostly women’s fiction with the sort of detail about San Francisco that will speak to those familiar with the city (being from our country’s other coast, I could feel I was missing out on some of the ambience.) As Natalie deals with her mother’s death and the precarious financial situation she inherited, she rediscovers her past from a different perspective; she also discovers items from her family’s and the city’s history hidden inside her pre-1906-earthquake building. It’s a nice story with an interesting historical component–and an element of hope that’s a good thing in a book published in 2020. Enjoy!

*If you watched your bookstore owner mother handsell a book published in 1992 from the New Release table when you were in elementary school, then that same mother shouldn’t be encouraging you to read a book published in 2005 while you were STILL in elementary school. The 2005 book took place in the 1970s, and I’m guessing that’s why it slipped through the cracks, but a picture book published in 1996 is also mentioned as a girlhood favorite. Dates were just not checked carefully enough.

I finished Rob Buyea’s The Perfect Star the other day, and I have to say, the ending choked me up a bit. (It was also wildly improbable in parts, but whatever.) Gavin, Randi, Scott, Natalie, and Trevor have come a long way over the course of three books, and I was thoroughly invested in their struggles, adventures, and friendship. The Recruits take you along as they navigate injuries, bullies, life changes, and 8th grade, and it’s a ride worth reading (so to speak). Start with The Perfect Score and enjoy!

Oh, and if you see a Hami melon at your local Costco or grocery store, buy one and enjoy that as well. We tried our first one this week, and it was TASTY.

Oh, my goodness. I finished Kate DiCamillo’s Louisiana’s Way Home last night, and it was BEAUTIFUL. (It was also the first book I’ve read of hers in forever that seemed more akin to Because of Winn-Dixie than to her odder (yes, odder, not older!) titles.) Louisiana’s voice is captivating, a mixture of innocence and experience, and the supporting cast of characters constitutes a vibrant slice of southern life. I don’t know that the plot needs more explaining than the title already gives, but this is a story of curlers, caramels, a crow, and kindness when it really matters, and it needs to be on your shelf. If you haven’t read Raymie Nightingale, you’ll still thoroughly enjoy it; on the other hand, if you have, there’s going to be a bit of added background knowledge that will probably enrich your reading experience. On the other hand, I enjoyed Louisiana quite a bit more than Raymie, so it’s your call!

Tonight I took my girlies (all three of them!) to see their cousin in a community theatre production of “Frozen Junior”, and while it’s still not my favorite show, it was a fabulous thing to be able to see. We went to Nielson’s Frozen Custard afterwards–appropriate!–and didn’t get home until 11-ish, which I’m trying not to think about. To that end, goodnight all!

I’ve decided that’s what Gordon Korman writes, folks, and The Juvie Three is a perfect example of that. Remember the movie “The Dream Team”–Michael Keaton, Christopher Lloyd, and the fabulous Peter Boyle? Imagine that, only with kids from juvie in an outpatient/halfway program and their counselor/guardian/sort-of-parole-officer. Imagine that while the latter is in the hospital–first in a coma, then with amnesia–the former have to agree on a plan with the best chance of a decent outcome for their futures. Imagine a cranky old neighbor, a rich man’s daughter, a recording contract, and a broken bowling trophy, and what do you get? A vintage Korman story full of heartache, hope, and humor. Is it likely? Not even remotely. Does it have elements of truth that feel especially (and painfully) timely right now? Only EVERYWHERE. I’d highly recommend this one for junior high on up (note that it’s rightly shelved in YF, not JF, at least in my library system); it’s a ride and a half.

Howdy, folks! I forgot to put up a “taking some family time” post, but that’s exactly what I was doing–my hubby’s family’s reunion was up in Idaho, and we went up the 1st and came home late last night. (Unfortunately, there was a stomach flu making the rounds, and I was up with it this morning…) Good times were had by all–sleep, not so much–and we went back up to my in-laws’ house for dinner tonight. (I didn’t eat much, granted, but hey.) Tomorrow morning will begin the unpacking and putting away and doing laundry process, but in the meantime, I get to review Jason Reynolds’ Sunny, the third in his fabulous “Track” series. All I ACTUALLY need to say about it, of course, is that the entire series is pretty great, and you should just go read the whole thing; on the other hand, there are helpful thoughts to be shared. My friend Andrea got her hands on the audiobook before I did, and texted me to say that the narrator was delightful; when I talked to her next, she talked about sounds being an important part of the story as a whole, and how much more effective listening to it was than reading it would have been.

She wasn’t wrong.

It’s true that it felt a little goofy to me at first, but given Sunny’s character, I’d say that’s part of the point. He’s an odd duck, is Sunny, but his story is a compelling one. (I was pretty mad at his father for a while, but given HIS story, it couldn’t last forever.) From the people in his life to the details of his life, Sunny shows us how personal tragedies we can’t even remember can shape us long after the fact. AND he does it while making us laugh.

That’s all I’ve got in me for tonight, folks–sleep well and I’ll see you on Tuesday!