#9 Highlight of Trip to Portland

Playing witness as the odometer tripped over the 200,000 milestone in The Little White Van.

Way to go baby, here’s to another 200,000!

Particulars:

• Location – 25 miles north of home up I-15.
• Musical accompaniment – The Proclaimers’, I Would Walk 500 Miles (How I Met Your Mother reference)
• Celebratory accoutrement – Fake Champaign in the form of sparkling cider. Cigars and real Champaign were out, as the event took place in Utah, and we are participants in the dominate religion. Alas we had no means of opening celebratory device and had to settle for merely waving the bottle about like drunken Super Bowl Champions.

Top 10 Highlights of Taking a Trip to Portland

Admittedly only peripherally related to kid lit, but we have the photographic evidence, and it is my blog, so allow a bit of self-indulgence, the link to kid lit will eventually be in evidence.

Lest you think I value my offspring to lightly, I will clarify that the order of the countdown has more to do with chronology than esteem.

#10 - Being accompanied by my vivacious and raucous 17-year-old daughter. Who, for the purposes of this blog, will be called Trixie. She has been known to break the sound barrier in her high school, and charm the dickens out of surly shop keepers and grizzled policeman. She is also the designated photographer of my goings on. All documentation in photographic form is courtesy of her more than burgeoning talent, with the following exception.

A Revelation

I was blinded by insight this morning. I’m still blinking the residual flash of inspiration from my formally deluded sight. Theoretically I began this blog at the beginning of the year with grandiose thoughts of connecting children to reading, and to discuss my take on the collection, new and old, that is at the disposal of young readers and those not-so-young readers that prefer reading at a 4th grade level. I had plans, big plans, and ideas, oh so many ideas, of all the wonderful content I would cover. At this very moment there are, no lie, about 10 unfinished posts in my Blogger queue. If I have so many great ideas and no shortage of material, why then do I have so few posts?

I figured it out this morning. ADD aside, I tend to write posts that that take hours to finish, resulting in the interruptions of dogs, cats, children, husbands, telemarketers and calls of nature. Not to mention the excruciating slow pace at which I tend to write anything. First off, it is necessary for me to misspell every other word. Don't ask me why, it is just the way it is -OK. I also find the need to revise every sentence. If you find my writing style a challenge to follow, believe me when I say, without these revisions you would truly be suffering.

Cure - WRITE MUCH SHORTER POSTS. Easy-Peasy!

I have been working on a countdown of a trip I made to Portland and it has taken me all week to formulate the first few items. Solution, I will post one a day, thus building in a deadline. Let’s face it, for those of us with lofty plans bigger than our discipline stomachs, deadlines are advantageous to any sort of progression. In an enterprise that is purely optional, say a blog, deadlines are essential if I am to accomplish anything in my life, beyond sleeping, eating and the other physical necessity.

Fingers crossed - insight is the mother of production.

We are Not Looking for the Same Things

If you were to stumble across my Goodreads profile you might mistake me for a precocious 10-year-old. That would most likely be the median age of the target audience of the books on my virtual bookshelves.

Do I feel sheepish, shamefaced, or chagrined at having my childish reading exposed to the public at large? -- Not at all. Just because a book is intended for a young audience does not automatically make it simple. I find there is just as much craft and complexity in plenty of works meant for younger readers. I was, however, reminded quite abruptly at the end of the past school year that my students and I are not always looking for the same satisfaction in our reading experience. While I delight in layered and complex characters, they just want to spend time with someone with the gumption to get the job done, or failing fortitude, someone who will make them laugh. While I delight in a delicious turn of phrase, and lovely imagery, my young charges want action, plot, and action.

As mentioned, I was awkwardly reminded of this truth at the end of the past school year. I like to save the final weeks of classes to indulge myself in reading longer books to my students. This is self-serving in several ways. It allows me to share some of my favorite characters at length, rather than in brief book-talks. Frankly it negates coming up with lesson plans when I am in the thick of inventory. It can also, when I throw caution to the wind, allow me to crack open a title cold and dive in. Last year’s experiment included many a book that had been winking enticingly from the shelves, flirting with me in an effort to be included on my Goodreads page. Some experiments worked out better than others.

Do I recommend tethering yourself and your students, for up to five weeks, to a book you know little about? Maybe, maybe not. It can work out in a sumptuously satisfying manner or be a total train wreck.

As I see up to six classes in each grade I didn’t want to bore myself by reading the same book to each class in a grade, so I mixed it up a bit by reading two or three different titles per grade. When it came to third grade I chose two different books that had been sitting on the shelves with little or no contact with me or any other potential readers to date. I had purchased both books after reading reviews, one starred, one not.

The first book was Haven Kimmel’s, Kaline Klattermaster's Tree House. I should never, ever, have tried to read this tricky little snippet cold. Third-grade Kaline is the offspring of an alphabet soup of dysfunctional parenting. With an ADHD mother and an OCD father, little Kaline, is not only saddled with a smattering of both parents acronyms, but also shows a tendency to light somewhere on the autism spectrum. This character was so nuanced that it would have taken a skilled reader several practice runs to get him to come across right. Not to mention that a good portion of what Kaline is relating as reality to the reader, is in fact occurring only in his delightfully muddled little head. Guess what? – your average third-grader is not going to hold still for a tale about quirkily little guy coming to terms with his parents separation by creating a fantastical world with ready-made older brothers and lots of puppies. There were moments when I had them, but mostly they were confused by a plot that may or may not have been happening, to a character who may or may not have been reliable in the telling of his story.

On the other hand, I adored this book. Kaline was fascinating, and the situations he found himself in were tender, funny, and illuminating in an understated way. I’m not sure which children are the audience for this book. I do believe there are young readers out there who could appreciate Kaline and even empathizes with him. A really big mistake I made was trying to pawn this off on third-graders. Even though Kaline is in third-grade, the book is much too complicated for the average 9-year-old.

The other book I chose for third-grade was Star Jumper: Journal of a Cardboard Genius, the first of series that had been sitting neglected on the shelf from the time it was purchased. It was written by Frank Asch the author of those delightful little picture books starring the earnest brown bear. In Star Jumper, Alex, the titled Cardboard genius, is able to invent anything he can dream up with a few math equations and a smattering of odds and ends found in bins under his bed or his father’s garage, and of course the requisite cardboard boxes. It is the work of an afternoon for Alex to create a space vehicle which will allow him to achieve his life’s goal of escaping his annoying younger brother Jonathon. Through the course of the tale Alex does run into an obstacle or two, but with his brain power and a few paper clips they are easily allied. Did this outlandish tale of youthful fortitude connect with my third-graders? – you bet it did! Before the first class to hear its opening chapters had left the library, the other two books in the series where scooped up by triumphant readers. Will I grab my chance over the summer to read through end of the series in order to discover what other magnificent feats of advanced technology Alex is able to conquer? – um, I think I’ll pass. Will I purchase any subsequent books that Mr. Asch may write for the series? – Oh, you betcha!

Does this mean that children cannot appreciate a higher quality of writing that is out there waiting for them? Not necessarily, but that is an issue for another blog post.

Does that mean that there are no books that both my students and I can enjoy simultaneously? Heck no, here are a couple of little dynamos that I used for read-alouds in second grade. They had both me, and my students, eager for our weekly reading session. Say hello to Clementine and Alvin Ho.

Things I Would Stand in a Midnight Madness Line For

I would assume that if you are reading all the same blogs I am, you have been privy to the following revelations. In case you have missed these newsy bombshells let me share what gets my little heart skipping about in a conga line. From what I can gather 37% of blogging is reporting on what has been read in other blogs. Ihope to give credit where credit is due to breaking the news.

Rob Reiner the meathead who directed such masterpieces as The Princess Bride, Spinal Tap, and A Few Good Men (AKA the best written piece of cinema ever) will be directing the movie version of my favorite Wendelyn Van Draanen book Flipped.



Truthfully, I rarely get excited about movies of my favorite books. And I usually pass on buying a movie ticket or even a $1 rental, but I'm willing to give the son of Carl a chance to impress me. Also it can only increase interest among my young students in one the most kid assessable authors currently juggling up to 3 series.

For those of you who, along with myself, have been suffering Grandma Dowdle withdrawal ever since A Year Down Yonder secured its Newbery award oh so long ago. Never fear she is making a return!

Can you bear the magnificence of it? Do I need to find a defibrillator? There is nothing like a loved character, who's time, it would seem, has come and gone, showing up on your door step. Now if I could get a glimpse as to what Lunna Lovegood is up to since evil at Hogwarts was eradicated. (Thanks to Collecting Children's Books for both of the above tidbits.)

The countdown to more Kate DiCamillo is shrinking. It was quite some time ago that I got wind on the Internet about her upcoming The Magician's Elephant. But now the galleys are out and the lucky show-offs are blathering about it at Goodreads.

By most accounts it is a quiet story, but loaded with plenty of brilliance. I did secure the first chapter, as an insert in June's School Library Journal. I can report mystery, longing, and one spectacularly ridicules event.

I just found out about this final revelation mere moments ago. I can thank Educating Alice for this wildly exciting bit of news. My hands are still a bit shaky from the awe of it all, and the defibrillator is cooling off in the corner.

Let me drag on the unveiling just a little bit longer. While the tale of Harry Potter was still being trickled from the conciseness of Ms. Rowling. I had a horrible thought that I might or she might die before I could read that finial page. As you can assume we both survived. Once the world of Potter was safely delivered, I was content to enjoy my other pet series' whenever they should happen to appear, without the worry of impending doom. And then I discovered the world of Megan Whalen Turner's Eugenides. Never since an obsessive romp through space with Miles Vorkosigan have I enjoyed a character more than that crafty Eugenides. It was not nearly enough to have written a thoroughly upside down, inside out, brilliant protagonist, but Mrs. Turner has managed to write plots so tricky and complex that reading them one time through is not enough, not nearly enough. When I discovered Goodreads I created a virtual shelf, series-to-finish-before-i-die, just to put the following book on.

Here it is:

I realize brilliance takes time, but honestly the King of Attolia came out so long ago I could have suffered several heart attacks, been invaded by numerous forms of cancer, eaten by a grizzly, or fallen off a mountain in the meantime. I truly hope Mrs. Turner is wearing her seat belt and eating plenty of anti-oxidants.

I am making this bold statement in the hopes that it reaches sympathetic and empowered ears.

I will bake cookies for, or turn over the pink slip on my first born to anyone that can get an ARC of A Conspiracy of Kings into my greedy little hands.

When You Reach Me by Rebecca Stead

What to say about a book that a reader should know nothing about before opening
the cover? One’s tongue must tread very carefully, while exuberantly bandying about ones utter enchantment with the work, least it slip and let out one of the book’s many, many delightful secrets. With a great deal of care and some trepidation, here are a few things that I would like to say:

Some books have clever tight plots and leave the reader guessing its mysteries right up to the end, and some books have great characters that are a joy to hang out with, rarely are both fused together in such a way as to leave no fissure to disparage. When You Reach Me is just such a rarity. It is perfection from opening quote (Albert Einstein), to closing four-word statement.

This book is accessible to its target age group, 9-12. This is a clever book. I know I just said that. But really it is very, very clever! Sadly cleverness puts many books outside the reach of many young readers. Not used to nuance and subtlety many books that I most enjoy, are just too clever for their own good, or at least the good of many of my students. I have not the slightest doubt that When You Reach Me will be completely assessable to my fourth-grade and up student body, heck we can even throw in most of the third-graders (we do have above average students). Do you understand what this means? This is a treasure that can be used to intrigue reluctant readers as well as challenge gifted readers. It will make an excellent classroom read-aloud or discussion group book. I dare any teacher to be bored by it!

I am not the first, and I will not be the last to bandy about the N word. Come January if this baby is not announced over the ALSC podium, I will run naked down Broadway (and believe me no one wants to see that, no one!).

Now comes the moment when I introduce a little device I am going to call the Kid Lit Social Club (KLSC). This is where I get to break down the barriers of time, location, publishers, genre, and book binding to throw characters from the currently discussed book into the path of other characters from children's literature.

The Gang from When You Reach Me at the KLSC

Miranda will naturally be BFFs with Meg Murry, after all they will always be the same age.

Miranda can also form a support group with Lynne Rae Perkins' Debbie for the recovery of those who have been dumped by long-time best friends.

Miranda can also join a enigmatic code cracking club with the duo from Wendy Mass's Jeremy Fink and the Meaning of Life.

Miranda and Richard can both join Lucky's friend Lincoln, as members of The International Guild of Knot Tyers.

Marcus should enroll in a social skill awareness class with Emma Jean Lazarus.

Marcus and Julia will most likely get a scholarship to attend Connie Willis' Oxford.

Colin can hang out with Sammy Keyes' pal Casey Acosta at the skate park, where they can discuss the allure of capable, witty females.


Annemarie's father can trade recipes with DJ Swank's Dad.

Sal and Alvin Ho can hold a discussion group on lesson's learned when one tries to shun female friendship.

The Laughing Man can trade tactical strategies with Miles Vorkosigan.

Now can you think of any other characters that would strike up an acquaintance with the gang from WYRM?

It Reached me Sooner than Expected

Monica Edinger is officially my favorite person this weekend. She, and I can only assume her utterly brilliant students, have brought me joy, heretofore only experienced by audience members gyrating in unseemly ecstasy in the pretense of Bob Barker, Drew Carey and possibly Dick Clark. She has made what by all accounts was to be a pretty decent weekend something worthy of the following gloat fest.


This Saturday is the day employees of public education look forward to for 9 months; the day when a glance at the calendar shows square after dated square of classroom free bliss. Days without the dictatorial bell signaling when we and our charges can get fresh air, take nourishment, or void our bladders. Days where, if desired, we can spend the day in elastic-waisted fleece or fail to touch a comb. Weeks stretch before us, free from enforcing excessive running, chatter, and gum chewing. Oh bliss!

This is what I planned on doing my first weekend of freedom. As you can see I walked out of my newly inventoried and abnormally organized library, loaded with plenty of fodder for a 48-hour readathon.

I never went as far as entering Mother Reader’s challenge. When I came across it several weeks ago, I had grandiose thoughts in the back of my head that it would be a good way to get this long neglected albatross of a blog off the ground once and for all. Naturally I was delusional. With a background in dyslexia, distraction (ADHD), and a tendency to Narcolepsy if left in a stationary position for prolonged amounts of time, even an obsessive book addict like myself, is not going to make any sort of showing in a reading challenge, no matter how much bubbly caffeine is involved.

I also had pressing landscaping issues, of the sort pictured below, mocking me every time I passed through my front door, and my back and side door for that matter. I no longer had the excuse of long work hours, to appease the collective suburban disdain for slipshod lawn pride.

The weekend began well enough, with a night out with my husband, who was also prone to celebrate his upcoming break from his role as a School Psychologist. We spent our new found leisure on dinner and a movie. The Brother’s Bloom being the later, which, with a bit more rumination and at least one subsequent viewing, may well make it into my top 25 movies of all time? But this is not a movie blog. I will not bore you with the pleasure of staring into Adrian Brody’s spellbinding eyes for 2 hours.

On our return home I was met with an entryway filled with shattered glass which I am blaming on our cat infestation colliding with a decorative wall plaque. As I was gingerly scooping up shards and slivers of what had previously been known as a loving gift presented to me by my crafty sister, my husband walked in with the mail.

Are you ready for it; this is the point in the story when the mundane and common takes on the sheen of spectacularness. At this point the poor unsuspecting man had no idea what sort of commotion his next sentences were about to elicit.

“Hon, it looks as if someone sent you a book? Were you expecting something?”

My senses on full alert I pivoted, sharp, potentially dangerous, debris carelessly brandished, as my frantic hands reached for the white envelope resting in his unsuspecting grasp. My eyes saw Monica Edinger name scrawled in the upper left hand corner - and all hell broke loose.

As stated before I had a shared experience with embarrassingly enthusiastic game show contestants. Once the squealing, jumping, dancing, rejoicing, and envelope shredding had subsided, I stood panting in the middle of my kitchen, my prize clutched to my chest facing my bewildered spouse.

What, you may be asking, along with my abused and bemused husband, was I holding that would elicit such abandon? If you think you can bear the blinding magnificence of it, I will show you:

There you have it!

I know you are saying to yourself, how could she possibly be holding it in her kitchen when the publication date is weeks away? How could she have the hottest book of the summer? She is in no way cool enough, or privileged enough to be on the galley give-away gravy train.

Let me take you back in time and tell you the story.

It all began when I read Betsy Bird's tantalizing review followed by Monica’s own. Up to that point, I had eagerly been waiting for mid-May to get my hands on little Calpurnia Tate, when suddenly my focus was diverted to this enticing morsel by Rebecca Steed, with its enigmatic title, and unassuming cover, dangling far off in the distant future. It was enough to break the heart of an obsessive kid lit extremist like myself. How could I contain the craving until July?

I had a fleeting hope of getting my hands on a galley when Betsy dropped down this challenge to finish off her fabulous top 100 picture books of all time. I was determined to guess the top ten and demand her galley of When You Reach Me as my spoils. Alas, I was taken out by sweet little Trixie in the first round - the little strumpet. I do however want to boast that I got the top nine of the ten - little good that did me.

Dejected and suffering from PCD, (post countdown decompression), I was not as vigilant in my blog reading as I should have been. A few days ago, after a long day of inventory and delinquent book repo, I was doing my daily blog perusal long past the customary time. When what to my wondering eyes should appear - but a possibility of achieving my heart’s desire! Monica was giving away a whole box of the precious objects!

Oh, the world stopped! I scrambled for a coherent reason to explain my desire to get my grubby little hands on one. For the next hour I was unbearable as I tried to limit myself to a mere 140 characters to convince Monica and her class why I must be one of the ones chosen. As I’m sure you can imagine, after reading this horrendously long post, brevity is not a strong suit, not at all.

I can’t quite remember the exact wording of my carefully, and excruciatingly edited request, but I believe I intimated that some of my students might somehow be in danger if I were not to receive a copy. Finally satisfied I sent off my hopeful plea, only to be desolate moments later. As I had linked to Educating Alice from Fuse #8, I had failed to see this post. And as my school day had ended hours before, I’m sure Ms. Edinger’s class, two time zones ahead, had long since made their selections and were now tucked in their beds. Once again I was thwarted, or so I assumed. But as you know there was some kind of divine intervention. Or did the participants find encouraging messages as they checked their pockets, backpacks, reading material, and footwear?

Whatever the reason I’m so grateful my mailbox contained such a treasure. I spent this day reading what is sure to be one of my top 10 novels of all time. It is not a common occurrence, for the reasons listed at the beginning of this post, for me to finish a book in one day. But I devoured this, plump and juicy bit, by rich and satisfying bit, up to the final emotion-filled paragraphs. And all I want to do now is open it again and start all over!

Thank you Monica and class! (And, um . . . If you so happen to have a copy of Catching Fire laying about, I could threaten another class.)