Book Buds Kidlit Reviews

A Book Buds challenge: Win a copy of pop-up Narnia

One reason I haven't been reviewing books is that I'm frantically cracking the whip over at Cybils, the online literary awards I helped mastermind and edit. Three of the first four lists of finalists are ready to go; they'll be posted Jan. 1.

Now, I know just about everybody who has anything to do with Cybils has already blogged about it, so I'll do something a little different.

Here's a challenge for you. You can win a copy of The Chronicles of Narnia Pop-up, illustrated by the incomparable Robert Sabuda.

See if you can spot:

• at least one author who's repeating from last year's short lists;
• an author who made two different short lists this year;
• a book from overseas that's not yet available in the U.S.

The winner will be plucked out of a hat from commenters emailers who get all three correct. If no one gets them all correct, I'll pick from the highest scorers.

UPDATE: I've had a night to think about this. To keep the answers secret, it's probably better to email me at anne (at) bookbuds (dot) net.

The contest'll run from Jan. 1 when the short lists are posted until midnight, Jan. 5.*

Happy hunting, all!

And don't forget--four more lists will post on Jan. 7. I'll have a new challenge then, and a new prize.

*Sorry, Cybils organizers aren't eligible.

Best Daddy ever!

When my kids want to suck up to their pop, they throw their arms over their heads, touchdown-style, and shout, "Best Daddy ever!"

It works almost every time.

Extra TV? You got it. Some chocolate? Take mine.

Now you have a chance to tell my husband "Best Daddy blog ever!" over at something called Squidoo. No idea what it is, but they're running a contest of Daddy blogs. My husband's blog, DadTalk, has been alive and kicking since 2004 with his unique mix of the politics and the personal. He deserves to win.

It'll ask you to join Squidoo for free, and then your vote will count. Whatever. He's currently in first place with two votes (his and mine). Go vote!

Maybe he'll even give you some chocolate.

Update: Here's my Squidoo "lens", whatever that is.

Ho ho holiday!

A peaceful and Merry Christmas to all my Christian readers. Book Buds will be back in a week or so.

POETRY FRIDAY Checkmate on trouble

Chess Rumble
by G. Neri; illustrated by Jesse Joshua Watson

Lee & Low Books

Is this a poem or a story or a dramatic monologue? I love genre benders, and this gripping, dark look at an urban African-American kid's anger and confusion defies pigeonholing. It's nominated under Middle Grade novels for a Cybils award, where I'm hoping it doesn't get buried by more traditional fare.

The 11-year-old narrator, who goes by Hulk or Fattie, depending on whether you're friend or foe, wields free verse like a blunt stick, now tapping out a rhythm, now beating us freely with rapid images, impressions and raw action from his damaged life. This is one kid on the edge, and the abyss is a single misstep away.

I wanna say
I'm not a angry guy,
that I'm not the one
she gotta worry 'bout.
But I can see
in the way she look at me
that she don't believe
I will turn it around.

When an exasperated teacher sends him to the library, he encounters the mysterious CM, a tattooed warrior who wields a mean chess board. Average game: three moves. When he challenges Hulk to beat him, we sense a temblor building beneath the boy's fragile fault lines.

Where it leads and how we get there is for you to discover. It reads quickly, but this is one story that lingers long after the covers are closed.

Rating: *\*\*\*\

True friends

Sylvie & True
by David McPhail
FSG

This odd pairing of a zaftig rabbit and a hapless water snake in four short stories reminds me too much of an old lesbian couple. Okay, so most lesbians don't sleep in the bathtub, like True, the snake. There's just something about their level of comfort together--plus the kinda frumpy way they're drawn--that whispered that in my ear.

Sylvie's the one who cooks and goes off to work and is generally the useful husband-type. She and True wear matching bowling shirts--I mean, c'mon, is that not a clue right there? True cheats at bowling, burns whatever horrid concoction was supposed to be dinner, watches TV through the smoke alarm blaring, and is generally not self-sufficient.

It's humorous, to be sure, the same way the Honeymooners would be a scream if remade today as a same-sex couple, maybe Alice and Ralphine Kramden (Book Buds Instant Challenge--who would you cast in it? No points for suggesting Ellen Degeneres--let's be original.)

I'm having fun with this for reasons the author didn't intend, of course. It might've helped if we knew why Sylvie stays in this friendship, but maybe that's something we should leave untouched in a kids' book.

Rating: *\*\

Win stuff from Chronicle Books

Teachers can win a trip from "Ivy & Bean" author Annie Barrows by entering this contest, while kids can squiggle and doodle their way to new art supplies at this contest. But what I really loved was Chronicle's email addressed to "Hello blogger friends."

Chronicle was an early and ardent support of us kidlitters, so let the bloggy love flow both ways. Thanks, Chronicle, and Happy Holidays to all of you too.

Cybils and Santa

Book deliveries have been slow to our panelists over at the Cybils awards, so we're postponing some short lists. Here's the link.

When the green-eyed monster bites

When Randolph Turned Rotten
by Charise Mericle Harper

Alfred A. Knopf

If the green-eyed monster never bites your kids, check them for a pulse. Especially this time of year, the jealousy hits hard. Having a story show how envy can wreak havoc--short of Othello-like disaster--is a pretty good idea, like an emotional band-aid when the owies are on the inside.

Randolph, a beaver, shares a city apartment with best friend Ivy, a goose. Trouble comes in the mail when Ivy gets invited to an all-girl slumber party at her cousin's beach house. Randolph goes through the various stages of jealousy, from annoyance to loneliness to festering resentment.

When Randolph decides to sabotage Ivy's good time, we're in for some sudden plot twists as it veers between his crazy ideas, remorse and Ivy's hapless misadventures at the party. Harper's good humor and those nutty geese keep things from veering into mawkish sentiment, and we never stop rooting for Randolph to work out his rivalry issues.

And while I normally don't quote press releases, Harper's blurb says she's "Randolph down to my very core." Aren't we all?

Rating: *\*\*\

POETRY FRIDAY I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud

I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud
by William Wordsworth; illustrated by Sami Suomalainen

Lobster Press

This whimsical treatment of Wordsworth's poem by a Finnish illustrator for a Canadian publisher--now making its way to us Yanks--is a testament to the enduring and universal power of the poet's imagery.

Suomalainen dedicates the book to "the power of flowers" and creates a candy-striped robot who wheels out of a gray, oily, surreally mechanized city:

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;

The daffodils cavort and lift our robot narrator out of his gloom. Stripes of amber and green on the daffodils' petals and stems echo the robot's patterns, and soon the mechanical becomes organic and vice-versa, with a little of each in the other.

The city's conveyor belt streets come alive with giant, dancing flowers and the other androids take on more vibrant hues, as if showing how flowers can pretty much perk up the gloomiest cityscape.

I agree, and had a lot of fun with this quirky pairing of a Romantic pen with a Modernist brush.

Rating: *\*\*\

Dancing his troubles away

The Only Boy in Ballet Class
by Denise Gruska; illustrated by Amy Wummer

Reviewed by Kelly Herold

Being the boy who likes ballet—or figure skating, or clogging, or, well, you get the picture—is never easy. When you’re the boy who likes ballet, you’re usually the only boy in your dance class. And that's the least of your problems. Often, other boys at school will make fun of you. And, surely, there’s a disapproving relative—an uncle, or a grandmother, or a parent—who will try to convince you that ballet is simply not appropriate for boys.

Enter Denise Gruska’s The Only Boy in Ballet Class, a book for those children who love something so passionately they can’t help but following their dreams. “Tucker Dohr loves to dance ... The other kids think he’s weird, but he can’t help it. It feels right to him. Like breathing.”

Tucker loves to dance so much that he tries to ignore the fact that he’s the “last one picked for softball. And basketball. And volleyball. He tries to pretend that he doesn’t care. He reminds himself that he’d rather dance anyway.” But we all know ignoring only helps so much when you’re in grade school. The small print in parentheses tells us, “But sometimes he has to cry about it at night when he’s alone.”

The boys playing football are the cruelest to Tucker and he has to endure their taunts on the way to his afternoon class each time he attends. But, and this is what I like best about The Only Boy in Ballet Class, the bullying is simply a conflict and a fact of life, not the focus of the story. Tucker’s love of dance and his passion for movement stays front and center and, thanks to Amy Wummer’s charming and accessible illustrations, comes through to the reader. We dance with Tucker when he needs to “leap over Marbles” (the family cat) or “spin past his tricky, tricky twin sisters.” We feel Tucker’s joy in movement and want to dance along.

Sprinkled with an offering of ballet terms, Gruska’s text is lively and will appeal most to readers ages four to nine. Her resolution of the bully conflict is unexpected, but fitting with Tucker’s joyful nature and the magic of dance. The Only Boy in Ballet Class is for all the “different” kids of the world and should be required reading in the first through third grades.

Rating: *\*\*\