Stacked Shelves

A few months ago I commented that Small as an Elephant by Jennifer Richard Jacobson might be another quest novel. Boy, is it. I’m still fascinated by how some stories follow every step on that hero’s quest list. It’s especially interesting—and satisfying--when the novels are not fantasy, but rather realistic fiction. In Small as an Elephant , our hero is Jack Martel. His mom, who is suffering from a bi-polar personality disorder, has abandoned him while they are vacationing in Acadia National Park. Here’s Jack’s call to adventure: He must find his way home (Boston), but doesn’t want to alert any authorities for fear that they will separate him from his mom permanently. At first Jack doesn’t want to go anywhere (he refuses the call), hoping his mom will come back. But other campers start to notice his being alone and he knows he must leave. He discovers the free bus system that transports people around Mt. Dessert Island and eats at a restaurant where someone tells him where his mom

I’m very grateful for The Boy at the End of the World , by Greg Van Eekhout. It’s a good, though not outstanding, book. More important, it fills a gap: science fiction for 3 rd -5 th graders. Because at some point during the school year, a teacher will assign a science fiction book report and I will have a hard time recommending books. I grew up reading science fiction and fantasy. And we know how much I like dystopian fiction (a lot). I have no problem finding good science fiction books for teens. In fact, some of the other librarians are tired of me telling teens (regardless of the assignment), “You must read Feed . Everyone should.” Or “You have to read Ender’s Game . You'll love it.” But younger kids come into the library looking for science fiction and it feels like there’s nothing very good. Most of them balk at the length of The True Meaning of Smekday (by Adam Rex), no matter how hard I sell it. They shrug their shoulders at The City of Ember (Jean DuPrau), even when I

My colleague, the YA librarian at my library, and I are deep in the throes of reading books for Mock Newbery and Mock Printz meetings – and of course just trying to keep up with all the books published this year. Yesterday she handed me A Monster Calls by Patrick Ness, which she had just finished reading for Mock Printz (the Michael L. Printz Award is given for literary excellence in Young Adult literature).   I snuck in a few pages at the reference desk and then read the rest of it in one sitting last night. Is it that good? Perhaps. Conor, the teenage protagonist of A Monster Calls , is suffering as his mother receives treatments for cancer. He has nightmares, is bullied in school, and has far too much responsibility hoisted on his shoulders. As his mother’s condition deteriorates, he is visited by a monster, a spirit of nature, as old as the earth and as vast as the universe. I love guys like that. The monster and his mother help him learn that her dying is NOT his fault. It can t

“Everyone is on a path that leads them (sic) to where they belong.” That’s one of my favorite lines from The Mostly True Story of Jack by Kelly Barnhill, a story that looks into the ideas of magic, home and family, and, most important, fate. Many fantasy novels use the idea of fate as a theme--characters are destined to be something or do something. Often the fate question is nicely woven into the plot; other times, it’s not. In a recent article in Entertainment Weekly Trey Parker and Matt Stone (speaking on how South Park episodes always have a lesson) said, “Plot should reveal the theme, and not vice versa.” Unfortunately, that’s not always the case in fantasy books. Naruto (the manga and anime) deftly delves into questions regarding fate and destiny. At least two of the characters--Naruto and Gaara--have demons (real demons) inside of them. And they must decide if they will let the demons control them or if they will learn to control the demons--in essence, they must

Ohhh. I found another. I can easily check off all the steps of the first two parts of the Hero’s Quest for Teodora, the heroine of The Undrowned Child . The return part doesn’t follow exactly, but some of those steps are taken. What a surprise, too. I thought it was going to be a tale about mermaids (no pun intended). Instead, The Undrowned Child is about ancient prophecies and several centuries of the history of Venice. Yes, mermaids play an important role, but Teodora is a human girl, albeit with special gifts. She is the undrowned child of the title and, along with a young Venetian boy, helps to save Venice from an ancient enemy, who is intend on destroying the city. The novel is replete with flying cats, ghosts hoping to redeem themselves, magic spells, statues that come to life, and really wonderful mermaids (who learned human languages from sailors—it’s always “talk like a pirate day” among the maids). It’s a great read and seems all very new to me (a new twist on the hero’s q

Everyone should read at least one book by Mark Haddon. And if you’re an anglophile like me, read more than one. He has written many books for children (and writes poetry), but his name became known outside of Britain with the “adult” book The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time . That book is often marketed to be about a boy on the Autism spectrum, but it’s much more than that. It’s a genre mash-up of mystery, bildungsroman, and dysfunctional family life. And it’s excellent. His other adult book, A Spot of Bother , is a very funny look at a family falling apart and then back together again. I almost want to call Haddon “Franzen super-lite.” He writes about families in a very funny, very cheeky British way. Boom , Haddon’s latest book for children, also features some odd families and, more importantly, aliens. It’s so much fun. Haddon pokes fun at goth teenagers, unemployed dads who fly model planes all day, and sci-fi fans who find the idea of populating another planet j

I hadn’t intended to read the entire “Relic Master” series by Catherine Fisher. My idea was to read the first book, The Dark City , so I could know enough about the books to recommend them (or not). But I read the first and now will probably read the rest. The reason it got me hooked is a little twist at the end, but I won’t reveal it. For the most part, this is a typical fantasy novel… set on Earth in some dystopian future or on another planet in its dystopian present. As with many fantasy novels, everyone lives rather medievally: The people live day to day hunting and farming. But, as the title of the series implies, there are these relics from another time (one is recognizable as a telescope). A group of holy people gather the relics and revere them as sources of great power. Other people, the Watchguard, seek to control the world and every little peon in it. Typical fantasy stuff. The book is well written. There’s nothing that makes it stand out as exceptionally good or bad. An

I really wanted to like The Wikkeling , a dystopian novel by Steven Arntson with illustrations by Daniela Terrazzini. The book got some good reviews, dystopian novels are one of my favorite genres, and I need some horror books to review for our library’s next cable show (during which we recommend books to our local audience). But I found so many problems with this book that I’m just left disappointed. The author paints a picture of a future where children are constantly watched by devices, including bedroom cams. Cars honk advertisements and everyone is connected by cell phones. In school, all the children do is prepare for standardized tests, which determine if they’re fit for better jobs or have to be lowly sanitation workers. No one washes dishes anymore – everyone is extremely germ-phobic – and everyday items are used and then discarded. Guys, this isn’t some far off future. This is now for some kids. A school environment where they’re drilled in the correct answers for standa