OK. My reading choices are eclectic. I like it that way.
And I love skeleton horses named Skinny and dead girl/live guy romances that aren’t all goofy and self-indulgent a la Bella/Edward.
And regular boys who get all heroic on the world!
And my son says, “Ghostopolis is awesome! The Bone King is cool.”
Wow.
Wondering what “voice” is?
This is Voice. Singing. Weeping. Wondering. Pleading.
My reading is nothing if not eclectic since we’re moving from the picture book, Snook Alone, to the YA novel Angry Young Man by Chris Lynch.
The reviews of this book have been stunning, and I picked it up because I’m writing an angry teenage boy character myself these days. I loved this book for the way it took me into such unfamiliar territory. It is one of those books that I could never have written because it’s not my world, not my people. Yet I came to love both world and people and to want them to survive and even flourish.
Thanks, Chris, for taking me somewhere I’ve never been. That is, after all, why I love to read.
If you don’t know the work of Timothy Basil Ering, you should. I would buy anything he’s worked on. My love of Frog Belly Rat Bone is profound! So that said, even if the reviews of Snook Alone hadn’t been spectacular, I would have bought it.
And this book… ah… it sings, it philosophizes, it scrabbles in the sand, it sniffs it’s own butt. And I love all of it. I could not pick favorite bit, but listen to this:
Snook curled in the farthest corner
and watched all night.
In the silence, he listened.
The wind was his breathing.
The waves were his breath.
This delightful, picture book biography is up for an Oregon Book Award tonight. I’ll be in the audience clapping loudly for Barbara Kerley.
As a nonfiction writer myself, it has been gratifying to watch picture book biographies and history come into their own. Writers are pushing the form to greater excellence by using innovative formats and many of the techniques of fiction: scenes, voice, character, story arc, etc.
Interestingly, science books for kids have not innovated in the same way (with the exception of scientist profiles). I think it’s the next frontier and I plan to be there!
Recently I gave my agent a manuscript about extinction biology that melds a graphic novel format with more traditional nonfiction. I can’t wait to see what he says!
Today I read Peter Brown’s delightful book to my son’s class. I told them there was a curious garden quite close to our school. They made me promise to take some pictures.
I’ve always been fascinated by how quickly nature overwhelms our puny human structures once we get out of the way. This bridge is a case in point.
In the story, Liam helps his garden transform an entire city. I love it!
Oh, Grandma Dowdel, I know I’m not Mary Alice, but I want you to teach me to trap foxes and make cherry tarts. Some of that glue would come in handy too. And where do I get a nice, big snake for the attic?
I’m sure the indomitable woman herself would brush me off with the wave of her big, strong hands, but let me continue to gush…
I thought this book probably wasn’t for me… historical novel about the Great Depression in a small town… Yet it was just exactly perfect for me!
Let no one lament the death of historical fiction! Instead celebrate its ascendency by buying a copy of one of these:
Heart of a Samurai
Moon Over Manifest
Turtle in Paradise
When You Reach Me
Or go back to A Year Down Yonder. You won’t be sorry!
On Saturday, I’ll be telling this story during Havdalah services. I’ve modified it to make it work as a more active story-telling experience. I must say that I love this book. It’s a perfect way to get into the mood for Pesach!
I am on a mission to read all 89 winners of the Newbery medel. The Whipping Boy was number 27. It jumped to the top of the pile based on a recommendation by my nine-year-old son. He is reading it in his third grade reading group and loving it.
And Peter Sis illustrated this edition. Need I say more? No, of course not, brilliance speaks for itself.
If we ever run away, we hope the heck it’s with Jemmy.
Gaw!
I read this book to my kids tonight. I always choke up when I read it. Always! There is something so moving about a girl’s need to have a horse and the need of the crowd to make sure she has it. Ahh! I never get tired of reading it especially the personal connection to Marguerite Henry.
I was one of those girls who needed a horse.
But I never got one.