New Year's eats

While loitering in the kitchen this evening, I spotted a chance to cement my reputation as Eater/Photographer of Questionable Foods...

If you didn't like the headcheese, odds are you probably won't appreciate these little guys much, either:

Fancy folks call it stuffed calamari, but I prefer plain old squid. You can thank your lucky stars I didn't think to get the camera out until after the heads had been, shall we say, "managed."

At any rate, here's wishing you plenty of what YOU like best in '08.

*******************
Currently reading:

The Thing About Georgie
by Lisa Graff

Re-opening the "advanced" can of worms

A comment from Sheila on my advanced rant got me to thinking this morning:

"...I wanted to say that parents use the word "advanced" because the word "gifted" is somehow taboo and using it brands one as an arrogant, pushy parent who thinks their child is better than everyone else. Even "smart" is somehow indicative of a sense of superiority. So if "advanced" is now also on the taboo list, just how are we supposed to describe our child's reading needs to librarians and booksellers and others who might be able to help us find books that our children will love?

"And sometimes a parent asking for a book for an "advanced" reader is doing it not because they're trying to challenge the child, but because they know that if they come home with the Magic Tree House (or Babysitters Club) book, their child will look at them like they have three heads. I'm all for letting children read what they want - above grade level, below grade level, at grade level. (And frankly, as a homeschooler, I dislike the term grade level anyway). I once saw a parent at the library tell her child, "Oh, no, honey. You can't get that book. It's too easy for you," and I wanted to smack her. My son loved the Secrets of Droon books for a long time, even while he was also reading Harry Potter. But I'm just saying, don't assume it's always the parent doing the pushing. Sometimes the parent is just hanging on for dear life."

She's got some good points there, Sheila does.

It is every bit as hard to find enough appropriate books for a 9-year-old who reads voraciously at a high level as it is to scrounge up appealing and un-babyish titles for a high school kid who's lagging behind.

There are definitely kids pushing for challenges and poo-pooing Magic Tree House, but I can tell you that their parents tend to be a whole 'nother brand of book-shopper than the folks that get under my skin. As Sheila noticed at the library, it's pretty easy to figure out who's pushing whom.

Which leads us back to the sticky business of "advanced." Yeah, I was more or less mouthing off when I brought this up the first time, but there is some genuine frustration lurking behind my grouchiness.

A big part of my trouble with "advanced" (besides that it is indeed becoming the new "gifted") is that it's generally not a very helpful term anymore. I'm a self-confessed hair-splitter and stickler when it comes to defining words, and to me, advanced has to do with more than just skill at reading -- it's got connotations of emotional and social maturity as well as intellectual development. Instead, it's too often used as an overall description of a kid when usually it applies to a very specific piece of their intelligence or development. It almost requires the follow-up question, "In what way?"

See, lots of the kids that the mommies and daddies and aunties and grannies are describing as advanced really aren't. They may be toddlers with unusually long attention spans, or second graders who can read an installment of Junie B Jones in 30 minutes flat, or fifth graders with a striking level of sensitivity and empathy, but they're rarely all-out advanced.

I can hear some of you asking, "So just what are smart kids' parents supposed to say to librarians and booksellers, Miss Hoity-toity language-nazi?" Well, it's really helpful if you can be specific about how your kiddo's taste and ability in reading are unusual:

• She's only two-and-a-half, but she already thinks board books are for babies.
  
• He's three but he's getting bored with shorter stories.
  
• She's eight and she reads so fast I can hardly keep up with her.
  
• He's nine and reads at a middle school level, but he has a hard time with anything that's too intense.
  
• She's just starting middle school and loves to read, but she's not interested in books about boy-girl relationships yet.

You see how there's almost always a "but"? That's the way it goes about 95% of the time. There's usually some facet of the kids' development that hasn't kicked in at the same intensity as their reading skills, and it can make a huge difference in what books will fit them when.

After all that huffing and puffing, I should also say this: Every now and then, we actually get a kid who really is all-around advanced, and you know what? They're great fun to work with. There's nothing quite like a one-on-one book club session with an articulate, well-read 10-year-old to perk you up.

If you heart YA...

...go see Juno. Just go.

I don't care what the credits say -- I swear to God Laurie Halse Anderson must have written that movie. Maybe even with a little help from my crazy pal Casey.

Classroom pre-censorship

If I try to launch this topic all I'm going to do is sputter and fuss incoherently, so I'll let Chris Crutcher do the job:

Masturbation Happens

And if the title alone makes you gasp in shock, I've got news for you: you're one of the folks who needs to read Crutcher's response most.


Here's what really pushes my little red-hot rant button: people (teachers, mostly) who ask, "Why do authors do that?" in a tone of voice that makes it sound like we've been caught picking our noses in public. As if it's some nasty habit we just can't lick. As if classrooms are the only places kids read.

I know it's not soley the teachers' fault. Most of them can see beyond a potentially touchy scene or a bit of intense language to the value of the book as a whole. Most of them recognize that authors aren't throwing so-called offensive material into books for what I like to call "gits and shiggles." However. I can tell you that teachers as a group are turning gun-shy in droves after cowering in the face of irate parents who believe what's best for their kid is best for everyone else's kids, too.

So why do so many teachers keep kowtowing to these folks until we're left with only the blandest books on our classrom shelves? I can't tell you how many books get turned down at the shop because a teacher runs across a line or an issue that might set off some trigger-happy censor. I say might because none of the teachers I've talked to have a particular parent in mind that they're trying to appease or avoid -- there's just a perpetual cloud of fear lurking over their heads all the time. They've heard the ugly school board meeting stories and would rather stay quietly out of the storm instead of whipping out the umbrellas and galoshes and joining in. As an author myself, I find that so very discouraging. People seem to forget it takes as much guts and gumption to write those scenes as it does to defend them.

That's why I get so indigmant when the old "Why do authors do that?" question pops up, more or less accusing authors of limiting our audience by the content we choose. Guess what, folks? YOU'RE doing the limiting when you refuse to even let a book enter a classroom because of your own preemptive apprehension. When you can't bring yourself to read The Prince of the Pond aloud to fourth graders because the mating frogs might upset someone, the problem is yours, not Donna Jo Napoli's. (I swear I'm not making that example up.) For Pete's sake, when did we start treating getting offended or even mildly uncomfortable as if they're terminal conditions instead of as jumping-off points for discussion? As Chris says:

For years kids - teenagers - came into my office to say how unheard they felt by the adults in their lives; parents and teachers. We're either able to hear about their lives in their native tongue, or we're not. When we're not, they stop talking to us. Who can blame them? There isn't a teacher out there who couldn't say, "There are scenes in this book that make me uneasy. They might make you uneasy too. Maybe we should talk about why we feel uneasy. Then we can talk about the book."

Amen, brother, amen....


[Disclaimer: Daryl DeBano, this post does not apply to you. Ever. You've always got your galoshes and umbrella handy.]

The Week in Hand Sales

Board books:
Barnyard Banter, by Denise Fleming
Tails, by Matthew Van Fleet


Middle grade-YA:
Flipped, by Wendelin Van Draanen
The Highest Tide, by Jim Lynch
Viking Warrior, by Judson Roberts
The Wanderer, by Sharon Creech
The Wednesday Wars, by Gary D. Schmidt


Adult:
A Slight Trick of the Mind, by Mitch Cullin
Snow in August, by Pete Hamill

Poetry Friday (22 minutes late)

The Meadow Mouse
1
In a shoe box stuffed in an old nylon stocking
Sleeps the baby mouse I found in the meadow,
Where he trembled and shook beneath a stick
Till I caught him up by the tail and brought him in,
Cradled in my hand,
A little quaker, the whole body of him trembling,
His absurd whiskers sticking out like a cartoon-mouse,
His feet like small leaves,
Little lizard-feet,
Whitish and spread wide when he tried to struggle away,
Wriggling like a minuscule puppy.

Now he's eaten his three kinds of cheese and drunk from his bottle-cap watering-trough—
So much he just lies in one corner,
His tail curled under him, his belly big
As his head; his bat-like ears
Twitching, tilting toward the least sound.

Do I imagine he no longer trembles
When I come close to him?
He seems no longer to tremble.

2
But this morning the shoe-box house on the back porch is empty.
Where has he gone, my meadow mouse,
My thumb of a child that nuzzled in my palm? —
To run under the hawk's wing,
Under the eye of the great owl watching from the elm-tree,
To live by courtesy of the shrike, the snake, the tom-cat.

I think of the nestling fallen into the deep grass,
The turtle gasping in the dusty rubble of the highway,
The paralytic stunned in the tub, and the water rising,—
All things innocent, hapless, forsaken.

~Theodore Roethke

(Chosen because of a mousey escapade I shall tell about another time.)

Aftermath

If you shouldn't happen to hear from me over the next week or so, fear not -- I have not been crushed by Christmas debris. It's just that I've got books to read, a parrot to babysit, houseguests to play with, and lots and lots of cartoons to watch....

M-e-r-r-y

"The first Christmas after Miss Sullivan came to Tuscumbia was a great event. Every one in the family prepared surprises for me, but what pleased me most, Miss Sullivan and I prepared surprises for everybody else. The mystery that surrounded the gifts was my greatest delight and amusement. My friends did all they could to excite my curiosity by hints and half-spelled sentences which they pretended to break off in the nick of time. Miss Sullivan and I kept up a game of guessing which taught me more about the use of language than any set lessons could have done. Every evening, seated round a glowing wood fire, we played our guessing game, which grew more and more exciting as Christmas approached.

"On Christmas Eve the Tuscumbia schoolchildren had their tree, to which they invited me. In the centre of the schoolroom stood a beautiful tree ablaze and shimmering in the soft light, its branches loaded with strange, wonderful fruit. It was a moment of supreme happiness. I danced and capered round the tree in an ecstasy. When I learned that there was a gift for each child, I was delighted, and the kind people who had prepared the tree permitted me to hand the presents to the children. In the pleasure of doing this, I did not stop to look at my own gifts; but when I was ready for them, my impatience for the real Christmas to begin almost got beyond control. I knew the gifts I already had were not those of which friends had thrown out such tantalizing hints, and my teacher said the presents I was to have would be even nicer than these. I was persuaded, however, to content myself with the gifts from the tree and leave the others until morning.

"That night, after I had hung my stocking, I lay awake a long time, pretending to be asleep and keeping alert to see what Santa Claus would do when he came. At last I fell asleep with a new doll and a white bear in my arms. Next morning it was I who waked the whole family with my first "Merry Christmas!" I found surprises, not in the stocking only, but on the table, on all the chairs, at the door, on the very window-sill; indeed, I could hardly walk without stumbling on a bit of Christmas wrapped up in tissue paper. But when my teacher presented me with a canary, my cup of happiness overflowed."

~Helen Keller, The Story of My Life

*****************
It was touching and beautiful to see Helen enjoy her first Christmas. Of course, she hung her stocking--two of them lest Santa Claus should forget one, and she lay awake for a long time and got up two or three times to see if anything had happened. When I told her that Santa Claus would not come until she was asleep, she shut her eyes and said, "He will think girl is asleep." She was awake the first thing in the morning, and ran to the fireplace for her stocking; and when she found that Santa Claus had filled both stockings, she danced about for a minute, then grew very quiet, and came to ask me if I thought Santa Claus had made a mistake, and thought there were two little girls, and would come back for the gifts when he discovered his mistake. The ring you sent her was in the toe of the stocking, and when I told her you gave it to Santa Claus for her, she said, "I do love Mrs. Hopkins." She had a trunk and clothes for Nancy, and her comment was, "Now Nancy will go to party." When she saw the braille slate and paper, she said, "I will write many letters, and I will thank Santa Claus very much." It was evident that every one, especially Captain and Mrs. Keller, was deeply moved at the thought of the difference between this bright Christmas and the last, when their little girl had no conscious part in the Christmas festivities. As we came downstairs, Mrs. Keller said to me with tears in her eyes, "Miss Annie, I thank God every day of my life for sending you to us; but I never realized until this morning what a blessing you have been to us." Captain Keller took my hand, but could not speak. But his silence was more eloquent than words. My heart, too, was full of gratitude and solemn joy."


~Annie Sullivan to Sophia Hopkins, January 1, 1888

The Week in Hand Sales

Board books:

Gossie and Gertie, by Olivier Dunrea


Picture books:
Mary and the Mouse, the Mouse and Mary, by Beverly Donofrio (x2)
The Night Before Christmas, illus by Niroot Puttapipat
That Rabbit Belongs to Emily Brown, by Cressida Cowell (x2)


Beginning readers & Chapter books:
Clementine, by Sara Pennypacker (x2)
Lady Lollipop, by Dick King-Smith
Roxie and the Hooligans, by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor
There is a Bird on Your Head, by Mo Willems (x2)


Middle grade & YA:
A Crooked Kind of Perfect, by Linda Urban
Monster Blood Tattoo: Foundling, by Dean Cornish
No Talking, by Andrew Clements
The Penderwicks, by Jeanne Birdsall
The Warrior Heir, by Cinda Williams Chima
The Wednesday Wars, by Gary D. Schmidt


Non-fiction:
Ape, by Martin Jenkins
George Washington's Teeth, by Deborah Chandra & Madeleine Comora
Seven Brave Women, by Betsy Hearne
This is the Rain, by Lola M. Schaefer
Vherses, by J. Patrick Lewis
What's Up, What's Down, by Lola M. Schaefer


Adult:
The Boy Who Loved Anne Frank, by Ellen Feldman

My little Ritka has a blog!

She's probably going to pound me for calling her "little" but I'm having one of those Awwww-I'm-so-proud moments:

Ritka's Ramblings

I met Ritka online at the Alexander Palace Russian history discussion forum a couple years ago, and I've since become her ARC-fairy. That's basically a fairy godmother who sends you 8-10 pounds of castoff bookstore ARCs every few months or so.

Why should you care? Well, if you're an author of historical fiction or fantasy, you might find your book reviewed on Ritka's Ramblings by a real live teenage booknut. If you're not an author, you should care because I say so. Ritka's way cool and I like her.

A few things Ritka likes a lot just in case her blog gets famous and you ever want to pander to her: theatre, Russia, royalty, mythology, tap dancing, the UK....



Go Ritka, go! Now the pressure's on. ;)

Poetry Friday

Solstice

December has the longest nights
of any in the year.
In centuries past folks were afraid
the sun would disappear.
They lit grand fires to bring it back
with feasting and good cheer.

~Anna Grossnickle Hines
From Winter Lights: A Season in Poems & Quilts

Roar!

Miss Erin has gone and awarded me a Roar for Powerful Words from the Shameless Lions Writing Circle. I'd never heard of this before, but I figured if it comes from Miss Erin, it's got to be good! Plus, she has this to say about little ol' me:

"Sarah offers humor and honesty in her thoughts on books, writing and everything in between (including headcheese!); all from the point of view of a busy bookseller and author."

Awww....

Protocol requires that I now spread my roar to five deserving bloggers:

Fuse #8:
Honestly, it doesn't even matter what Betsy says, or what she's talking about -- it's how she says it. I'd read her blog if she were talking about tuna fish. (I dare you, Bets!) Voice, people, voice.

interactivereader:
Jackie! Another voice-o-rama sort of blog, Jackie has. She's funny, too. Plus, she's a member of the postergirls council for Readergirlz, she's heavy into the Cybils, AND she's been known to chat with me on Google when I'm cranky, and/or procrastinating. That's a tough combo to beat.

emilyreads:
Queen of the review haiku. I dunno why the Library of Congress hasn't hired Em yet to write those itty-bitty summaries on the copyright page. Nobody else I know can simultaneously nail a book in under 25 syllables AND make me snort milk out my nose. Check out this and this to see what I mean.

Barbara O'Connor:
Of course I was lured into reading Barbara's blog because she once nominated me President, Queen, Empress, and Big Kahuna of the Bashers Club of the World. But she kept saying interesting things, and posting tips from fifth graders that remind me how to keep my writing from sucking.

Darcy Pattison's Revision Notes:
THE best and smartest sanity-saving revision blog in the universe.

Antidote

How's this for bookstore karma?

After yesterday's gender rant, I was granted the pleasure tonight of watching a 10-year-old boy (in a suit and tie, no less) beg, wheedle, and plead with his mother to be allowed to buy himself a monarch butterfly finger puppet. Ha!

Of course, he immediately proceded to: a) pretend to burn it up in our fake fireplace; b) fly it around the store accompanied by jet-engine sounds and; c) "devour" it noisily with a snail hand puppet.

I'm not sure exactly what to say to that, but I'm still strangely pleased.


******************
Currently reading:

Princess Ben
by Catherine Gilbert Murdock

Vanity moment

I generally try to spare you the blow-by-blow accounts of every thumbs-up I manage to track down online, but I really like this review.

For the record, you can pay Miss Spitfire no higher compliment than saying/demonstrating that it made you see an unknown side of Annie Sullivan.


[Image of Annie from Wikipedia]

Rant-o-rama

Since I'm already on a roll...

Two more things:

1. What exactly will happen to a 7-year-old boy if you read him a picture book with a female character in it? Really -- what? Will he suddenly sprout boobies and profess a fondess for pink tulle? Ok, I get that I am Really a Princess is perhaps not a gender-neutral title, but That Rabbit Belongs to Emily Brown? Come on!
   
   And why is it that this problem never occurs in reverse? I have never, ever, EVER had a customer turn down a book for a little girl solely because the main character is a boy. But I've actually had people pass on board books for newborn boys because they're "too girly." (I am not making this up.) I'll bet you money that baby Joey is waaaaay more concerned about his upcoming circumcision than whether or not there are baby girl characters jeopardizing the testosterone level of his bedtime stories.
   
   
2. Will you puh-leaze hang up your dadblamed cell phone before attempting to do business with me?

Doesn't ANYONE read at grade level anymore?

I don't know how long I've been not-so-quietly grumbling in the back room about the "She's very advanced" phenomenon (in a snarky nutshell: just because she can read long fancy words like oh, say, necrophilia, doesn't mean she ought to) but I'm glad some folks beat me to the punch, particularly at the high water mark of the Chirstmas shopping season:


A Chair, a Fireplace & a Tea Cozy: "But my child is so advanced!"


Alexandra Flinn: "Why my books really are 12-up."


So now that you've read those smart and logical arguments, I can just moo a little bit on the subject:

I've been reading above grade level for just about as long as I can remember, and I was pretty darn smug about it, too. (I was very proud when I beat Katie Glover to the end of the SRA kit in elementary school. I can't believe they still make those things.) But do you know what my preferred choice of, um, "literature" was at age 10, when I was theoretically capable of deciphering 12th grade vocabulary? The Baby-Sitter's Club. When I hit junior high I graduated to Christopher Pike and Sunfire Romances. A might embarrassing to 'fess up to nowadays, but I somehow don't feel like I've turned into a slouch in the literacy department.

Gosh, I'm just oozing snark this morning, aren't I? Watch out -- I'm not done yet.

You know what really gets me about these folks who are so adamant about advanced books? The word advanced itself. It's like the kids are so smart that using anything less than a ploysyllabic word to describe their abilities would be insulting somehow. Only once has a customer ever said to me, "I need a book for a fifth-grader. He's real smart." I wanted to hug her, and I told her so. She even laughed a little when I explained why.

And another thing! (Almost done ranting.) Aside from the sticky matter of content, what's up with always needing to "challenge" these advanced little folks? I'm betting most of their mommies and daddies aren't wandering into the grown-up section thinking to themselves, "To heck with John Grisham, I want a challenge!" or "Wouldn't Dante make a nice stocking stuffer for Aunt Louise?"

For Pete's sake, let 'em have a little fun with a Magic Treehouse book, even if it's only good for 30 minutes -- coincidentally the same amount of time it takes to watch a TV show. If you want kinds to love reading, don't dose them with books like they're medicine, or pile them on like they're weights on a bench press. Kick back, open a book, and relax. Sheesh.

(Done.)

Bring on the bumpy coolness!

This ranks right up there with an official Red Ryder carbine-action 200 shot range model air rifle. Ready?

Lore Schindler, a teacher of the visually impaired at Brooklyn Avenue Elementary in Los Angeles, liked Miss Spitfire so much that she took it upon herself to transcribe the whole book into braille for her students. Really -- from title page to internet resources (and I can vouch for the fact that those links are no fun to type even when you're a sighted person with a computer keyboard). I have it on good authority that the students of Brooklyn Avenue Elementary, Irving Middle School, and Marshall High are already enjoying Annie's story.

Today *I* got a squatty box holding two -- yes two! -- braille copies of Miss Spitfire. Behold:

Despite the double stacking, that is in fact just ONE copy of the book. 528 cubic inches, to be exact. Brailling a book is like adding fast-acting yeast to the pages. They grow in all directions and expand into multiple volumes. Click here to see one of Ms. Schindler's students present a mind-boggling display of this principle.

More pictures from half a gazillion angles as I attempt to convey the scale and scope:

(Yes, I realize I'm behaving like a new grandmother. Humor me.)

I wish like anything that I could get a decent photo of the insides, but like my braille bookplates, white-on-white is a royal bugger to photograph. Especially since the bumps go in both directions: to maximize space, every page has dots on the front and dots on the back. Imagine printing with ink on both sides of a sheet of waxed paper. This is the 3D equivalent of that. You'd think some of the dots would get double-punched and cancel each other out, but it never seems to happen. I don't know how they do it.

You know what's extra cool about this? I can read it. With my eyes shut and everything! I'm still painfully slow -- Remember sounding out words in first grade? That's me -- but seeing as I kinda know how this story goes, things are apt to go a little more quickly once I get the feel of things. (I know, I know -- boo, hiss.)

Bumpy cool, man. Bumpy cool. Oh, and if people start saying "bumpy cool" out there in the real world, remember: you heard it here first.

***********************
Would you believe I am STILL reading:

The Goose Girl
by Shannon Hale

It's "Best Of" season again

Inspired by Little Willow's favorite books of 2007 project, I've gone and caught the listmania bug. You know it's serious when I break down and link to the Evil Online Chain Store....

Standouts of 2007

Preview of 2008

You see what a good girl I was? I didn't even put my own book on the list. (Though I've just lost all my modesty & humility bonus points by drawing attention to that very fact. Hence, the goofy Lucy-and-the-loving-cup photo.)

The Week in Hand Sales

Board books:
Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See? by Bill Martin Jr.
Dog, by Matthew Van Fleet
Five Little Monkeys Jumping on the Bed, by Eileen Christelow
Jamberry, by Bruce Deegan


Picture books:
Animal Crackers, by Jane Dyer
Don't Let the Pigeon Stay Up Late, by Mo Willems
The Elves and the Shoemaker, by Jim LaMarche
Mrs. McTats and Her Houseful of Cats, by Alyssa Satin Capucilli
Mr. Willowby's Christmas Tree, by Robert Barry
Princess Me, by Karma Wilson
Skippyjon Jones, by Judith Byron Schachner
Twelve Dancing Princesses, by Marianna Mayer
When Dinosaurs Came with Everything, by Elise Broach


Chapter books:
Dog Diaries, by Betsy Byars
A Fairy Called Hilary, by Linda Leopold Strauss
Hannah, by Gloria Whelan
Lady Lollipop, by Dick King-Smith
My Father's Dragon, by Ruth Stiles Gannett
PeeWee's Tale, by Joanna Hurwitz
Sideways Stories from Wayside School, by Louis Sachar
Weird Stories from the Lonesome Cafe, by Judy Cox


Middle grade/YA:
Invention of Hugo Cabret, by Brian Selznick
Mandy, by Julie Andrews Edwards
No Flying in the House, by Betty Brock
No Talking, by Andrew Clements
The Tail of Emily Windsnap, by Liz Kessler


YA:

13 Little Blue Envelopes, by Maureen Johnson
Beige, by Cecil Castellucci
East, by Edith Pattou
Cracker! The Best Dog in Vietnam, by Cynthia Kadohata
Hattie Big Sky, by Kirby Larson
Hope Was Here, by Joan Bauer
Princess Academy, by Shannon Hale
Song of the Sparrow, by Lisa Ann Sandell
Touching Spirit Bear, by Ben Mikaelson
When My Name Was Keoko, by Linda Sue Park


Non-fiction:
Cats, by Seymour Simon


Oh, and those covers I posted pictures of? They represent possibly the best kid-to-book matches I ever made -- the kind where you just KNOW they're going to hit the kids right where they live. Honestly, I needed a ciagarette after that sale, if you know what I mean...

Hugo Cabret and the Newbery/Caldecott

This subject keeps coming up in various spots, so what-say we just kick it around for a while?

There's been talk that The Invention of Hugo Cabret could win the Newbery, the Caldecott, or both. Is that really possible? Does it really fit the criteria for both awards? If not, should the criteria be adapted or re-interpreted to include illustrated novels like Hugo?

Here are links to the full Newbery and Caldecott criteria:
Newbery terms & criteria
Caldecott terms & criteria

Have a read and see what you think. I'll wait.
.
.
.
Ready? Here's what I have to say about the whole thing:

IMO, Brian Selznick has a shot at the Caldecott, but the Newbery will be a challenge.

Here are the parts of the Caldecott criteria that stirke me as conducive to Hugo Cabret:

• A "picture book for children" as distinguished from other books with illustrations, is one that essentially provides the child with a visual experience. A picture book has a collective unity of story-line, theme, or concept, developed through the series of pictures of which the book is comprised.
  


• Each book is to be considered as a picture book. The committee is to make its decision primarily on the illustration, but other components of a book are to be considered especially when they make a book less effective as a children's picture book. Such other components might include the written text, the overall design of the book, etc.

This seems like a pretty good fit for Hugo. To my mind, the criteria tacitly acknowledges that a picture books is a melding of many elements. Hugo is certainly a "visual experience," and the criteria do not explicitly forbid the committe from considering the text and design.

And here is the section of Newbery criteria that presents a potential problem:

• Each book is to be considered as a contribution to literature. The committee is to make its decision primarily on the text. Other aspects of a book are to be considered only if they distract from the text. Such other aspects might include illustrations, overall design of the book, etc. [my emphasis]

If the committee interprets the criteria literally and does NOT consider the illustrations, Hugo Cabret is going to have a rough time.

I like Hugo an awful lot, and I've been grumbling lately about the fact that we can amend the Constitution to adapt to new circumstances, so why not the Newbery criteria? Then this thought occurred to me: is it fair to authors who *don't* draw if illustrations are allowed to come under consideration for the Newbery? How would you feel if you wrote the without-a-doubt best book of the year (I know that's awfully subjective, but just pretend with me for a minute) but lost because someone else wrote a good book with spectacular illustrations?

When I think of the other great books I've read this year, I'm forced to admit that Hugo's writing isn't of the same caliber. The story is intriguing, the format is innovative, and the writing is good, but as much as I adore Brian Selznick, I personally don't think the writing itself is "the most distinguished contribution to American literature for children published in English in the United States during the preceding year."

Thoughts?

Helen's Eyes, by Marfe Ferguson Delano

Helen's Eyes:
A Photobiography of Annie Sullivan
by Marfe Ferguson Delano
(National Geographic, March 2008)


I don't know what's caused the mini-flood of Annie Sullivan & Helen Keller books lately, but I sure am enjoying it!

This may well be the best Annie Sullivan children's biography on the market. The design is impeccable, with big, crisp photos, often overlaid with quotations or layered with maps and other relevant backgrounds. Braille on the title page and photographs of Helen's own hands modeling the manual alphabet on the cover boards were especially nice touches. Unfortunately for me, only one of the interior photos was new to my eyes. But I suppose trying to find a fresh Sullivan/Keller photo for me at this point is a little bit like giving Julia Child a new recipe, so I can't really fault the book on that score.

The text is strong, straightforward, and accurate, though I personally prefer a bit more emotional zing in a biography. Hence, the four-star rating on my reading journal. What can I say -- I'm a tough audience. That said, I found myself constantly nodding in agreement at the familiar details of Annie's life, and even picked up a few new tidbits along the way. In all fairness, Helen's Eyes is probably worthy of a five-star rating in the world at large. Highly recommended!

The Willoughbys, by Lois Lowry

That Lois Lowry sure does know how to keep her readers on their toes. Never the same book twice, I tell you!

So, The Willoughbys. Granted, I was in exactly the right mood to snigger along with some delightfully despicable characters, but gosh this was fun -- sort of an antidote to the modern epidemic of over-protective parents and painfully precious tots. Consider this line, which appears right at the tip-top of the jacket copy: "Shouldn't we be orphans?" one of the Willoughby children suggests one day. Heh!

Lowry's plot and characters constantly poke fun at the syrupy old fashioned stories that have wormed their way into our collective consciousness (actually, "poke" may not be a strong enough word -- "pinch" is a better fit, I think) and the result hits the spot like a cold, crisp dill pickle.

If you're not well-versed in staples like Mary Poppins, Pollyanna, and The Secret Garden, I suppose this book could come off as one long inside joke. Too bad for you if such is the case, though Lowry kindly includes a bibliography to help you along. This ain't no Giver, but it is a wonderfully snarky romp with the unmistakable flavor of Roald Dahl and a dash of Lemony Snicket. Outlandish? Yep. Likely to be too much for some hyper-sensitive parents? You betcha. Precisely why I loved it.

In fact, I'm so taken with The Willoughbys that I don't even have anything snide to say about the fact that Lowry herself provided the illustrations. Generally, I think it's a bad idea for novelists to draw their own pictures, but Lois went and pulled it off. Brava!

It pains me -- though not very much -- to inform you that you must wait until March to read The Willoughbys for yourself. I know, I'm despicable myself sometimes. The Willoughby family would be proud. (Especially Tim.)

To-do list

Things I've managed to get done before noon today:

• Balance my checkbook
• Clean the bathroom
• Strip my sheets and start the laundry
• Address Christmas cards
• Make deposits at the library and post office
• Clean the bird cages
• Post updates to my December reading journal

That leaves one little item, which seems to be the hardest of all. In three deceptively simple steps:

1. Disable my wireless connection (can you hear me flailing and gasping?)
2. Open the WIP file
3. WRITE something

Fortunately, there's a big glaring light at the end of the tunnel. Regardless of whether I manage to check that last pesky item off my to-do list, I get to chat live on the readgergirlz forum tonight at 10:00 EST. Come join the fun -- you can either congratulate me on my day's work or help cheer me up.


**********************
Currently reading:

The Goose Girl
by Shannon Hale

Why I love the mail carrier

The Willoughbys
by Lois Lowry

Princess Ben
by Catherine Gilbert Murdock

***********************
Currently reading:

The Willoughbys
by Lois Lowry

The Week in Hand Sales

Board books:
Dear Zoo, by Rod Campbell
Ollie, by Olivier Dunrea
Ollie the Stomper, by Olivier Dunrea


Picture books:
Nativity, by Julie Vivas
The Night Before Christmas, by Niroot Puttapipat
Please, Baby, Please, by Spike Lee
Skippyjon Jones, by Judith Byron Schachner
T is for Twins, by Mary Bond


Beginning readers:
Hi Fly Guy, by Ted Arnold


Middle grade/YA:
Beloved Dearly, by Doug Cooney
The Best Christmas Pagaent Ever, by Barbara Robinson
Book of a Thousand Days, by Shannon Hale
A Drowned Maiden's Hair, by Laura Amy Schlitz
Gooseberry Park, by Cynthia Rylant
The Invention of Hugo Cabret, by Brian Selznick
Leepike Ridge, by N.D. Wilson
Me and the Pumpkin Queen, by Marlane Kennedy
No Talking, by Andrew Clement
Pippi Longstocking, by Astrid Lindgren
The Tail of Emily Windsnap, by Liz Kessler


Non-fiction:
Owen and Mzee, by Isabella Hatkoff

Tis the season

I know everyone has their favorite versions of A Christmas Carol. In fact, I've further noticed most people have very strong feelings about this particular story and how it should look or sound. In point of fact, I myself don't much care which versions YOU like. My favorites are the best, so I'm going to tell you all about them. Isn't that nice of me?

***PRINT***

Candlewick Press, 2006
Illustrations by P.J. Lynch

I've had the Greg Hildbrandt edition of A Christmas Carol given to me by my late, great Uncle Bob since I was five years old, and I've been sorely tempted by the Trina Schart Hyman version for the last few years, but last year P.J. Lynch completely stole the show.

What's the big deal? For starters, there is something to see on nearly every page. The watercolor illustrations are varied and intricate -- sometimes a full page spread, sometimes just a border or a single object tucked into a corner of the page. The palate is just right, too. Everything seems antiqued and shrouded in London fog. It's a bit like stepping into a Dept. 56 village.

Add to that the fact that Candlewick Press knows how to manufacture a high quality volume. The paper is thick and creamy, the dust jacket accented with deep red and gold -- the whole presentation feels rich and indulgent.

***AUDIO***

Simon & Schuster Audio, 1992
Performed by Patrick Stewart

I admit it: this edition is abridged. I'm usually pretty snotty about abridgements, but this is a glaring exception. I have vast stretches of the story memorized, thanks to this recording. The abridgement is a good one -- Dickens' longer descriptive passages have been carefully nipped and tucked, as have his meandering asides, leaving the essential meat of the story virtually untouched. Even trimmed up like this, the recording is still nearly two hours long.

In Patrick Stewart's mouth, Dickens' language never feels clunky or overwrought. The narration is lively and varied, as are the characters' voices.

Jim Dale -- of Harry Potter audio fame -- reads an unabridged edition of A Christmas Carol, but it falls surprisngly short in comparison to Patrick Stewart's performance. As gifted as he is with voices, Jim Dale just doesn't have Stewart's knack for bringing Dickens' long passages of description to life. And given Dickens' propensity for long-winded description, that is a very important quality indeed.

(Aside: As much as I love Patrick Stewart's audio performance of A Christmas Carol, I emphatically do NOT recommend the film version he stars in. *shudder*)

***VIDEO***

20th Century Fox, 1984

Starring George C. Scott


Everybody and their brother seems to love the 1951 Alastair Sim version of the movie, but all I have to say to that is a hearty, "bah, humbug." I've been watching this edition since I was four years old, and I can't even stand to sit through any other. Well, except for Mickey Mouse or the Muppets....

Anyhow, THIS version was filmed on location in Shrewsbury and Shropshire, and everything -- from the scenes and sets, to costumes and music -- simply drips of 1840's England.

Plus, it stars George C. Scott, who's got a gravelly growl no one can top. Not only that, he's subtle and well-rounded, unlike many Scrooges who appear almost cartoonish in their extremes of bitterness and jollity. Scott begins as an ill-tempered grizzly and turns into a gentleman. In fact, the script is often more subtle than Dickens' original, which occasionally knocks you over the head with Scrooge's light-bulb moments. This is good stuff. Trust me.

It Had to be You

December 6, 1944

Happy 63rd anniversary, Grandma & Grandpa!

*******************
Currently reading:

The Goose Girl
by Shannon Hale

Good thing I've stocked up on lemon drops

Harry Potter Personality Quiz by Pirate Monkeys Inc.

I hear the folks who come up with Voldemort's personality type are not so amused....


(via bookshelves of doom)

Website updates

Business as usual - my November reading journal is complete, and December is just barely in progress.


Best reads of November?

YA:
How to Build a House
by Dana Reinhardt
(Due May 2008)

Adult:
Laura Ingalls Wilder: A Writer's Life
by Pamela Smith Hill

And you?

Just one more question

Indulging in a Columbo-moment, I asked Laura Ingalls Wilder biographer Pamela Smith Hill "just one more thing" yesterday. You can read my question and her answer at the very end of the original interview -- click here.

The Week in Hand Sales

Board books:
Frosty the Snowman, by Jack Rollins


Picture books:
Don't Touch My Hat, by James Rumsford
Frank was a Monster Who Wanted to Dance, by Keith Graves
Mary and the Mouse, the Mouse and Mary, by Beverly Donofrio (x2)
The Night Before Christmas, illus. by Niroot Puttapipat
When Dinosaurs Came with Everything, by Elise Broach


Chapter books:
Clementine, by Sara Pennypacker (x2)
Cobble Street Cousins #1-2, by Cynthia Rylant
A Fairy Called Hilary, by Linda Leopold Strauss
The Jamie and Angus Stories, by Anne Fine
Lady Lollipop, by Dick King-Smith
Mercy Watson to the Rescue, by Kate DiCamillo
PeeWee's Tale, by Joanna Hurwitz (x2)


Middle grade/YA:
Black Duck, by Janet Taylor Lisle
Book of a Thousand Days, by Shannon Hale
Dovey Coe, by Frances O'Roark Dowell
Evolution, Me, and Other Freaks of Nature, by Robin Brande
The Fairy Rebel, by Lynn Reid Banks
Frindle, by Andrew Clements
How to Steal a Dog, by Barbara O'Connor
Mandy, by Julie Andrews Edwards


Non-fiction:
Baseball Treasures, by Stephen Wong
Great Estimations, by Bruce Goldstone


Adult:
A Family Christmas, edited by Caroline Kennedy