So you've already read Wimpy Kid......

.....and it's still not October 12th, when Dog Days is due for release. While you're waiting for every one's favorite junior high diarist, let me introduce you to Julian Rodriguez. Julian is one seriously put-upon eight year old. In his first book, Trash Crisis on Earth, he not only has to take a test on an empty stomach, but then he is asked to take out the trash. Invasion of the Relatives involves enduring a Thanksgiving meal with the extended family: two nanas, two cousins, all revolting. Julian's trials and tribulations are dutifully reported to the Mother Ship (yes--did I mention that Julian survives his families demands by imagining he is an intergalactic First Officer?) from whence comes advice and encouragement and a semblance of reason, much like a digital Jimminy Cricket. The motif of Julian parading as an alien sleeper on Earth is played to the comic hilt with plenty of techno-babble tossed in to emphasize how the fantasy plays out in Julian's mind. For instance, his description of a ball, for the benefit of the Mother Ship, with which he must play catch with his cousins:

"...this ORB, how it tortures me! It is nothing but a cheap synthetic polymer formed in the shape of a sphere or a pointed egg, but the mini-brains worship it as though it had magical powers."

Or Julian's description of a Thanksgiving dinner:

"During this particular festival, the living quarters are festooned with natural debris. Groups of genetically linked mini-brains from different localities are invited to come and feast on hideous local specialties."

When you're eight, you can get away with that!

The book combines graphic elements with blocks of text and the impression that the reader is interacting directly with the Mother Ship through black pages representing a computer screen. There is a note at the back of the book describing the different types of fonts used; a lot of effort went into the visual effect of the book, and it shows. Stadler's angular style gives Julian an edgy appearance, while on his family it looks almost grotesque. Julian would not have it any other way!

It is easy to imagine that Julian Rodriguez might grow up to be Greg Heffley; his eye is as observant, his wit as razor-sharp, and his sense of taking-on-the-world just as finely honed. May they one day cross paths, if only on your To Be Read list.

Rave Review: Jasper Dash and the Flame Pits of Delaware

I've been waiting for this book to be published for what seems an awfully long time. As an enthusiastic fan of both Whales on Stilts and The Clue of the Linoleum Leiderhosen, knowing this book was in the works was sweet torture. Now that it's here, and I've read it, I sort of don't know what to make of it. For starters, what started as "M.T. Anderson's Thrilling Tales" has become "Pals in Perils," which to my way of reading consciously shifts the focus of the series away from Lily (the only one of the gang who is "ordinary",) to Jasper himself, the one old-fashioned enough to actually use the word "pal" in his day to day conversation.

But let me backtrack, for those who have not been following this series. Lily Gefelty, Katie Mulligan, and Jasper Dash are three friends who have shared an inordinate amount of crazy adventures. While Katie and Jasper are both stars of their own series of pulp adventure books (which allows author Anderson untold opportunity to lovingly poke fun at the genre,) Lily is just an ordinary girl distinguished mainly by floppy bangs and undying faith in her two friends. After fighting off an aquatic invasion in "Whales," and solving a mystery at a resort visited by other action series characters in "Leiderhosen," Lily, Katie, and Jasper investigate an art theft and the possible endangerment of a group of monks in "Flame Pits".

That's the straightforward plot summary. What it fails to relate is the sheer Sternsian ambition of this book. By focusing the story on Jasper Dash, star of a series that one suspects not many people are reading anymore, and the one character who even within this strange set-up has always seemed out of place, with his arcane expletives ("Saturn's rings!",) endorsement of a vile energy drink (Gargletine,) and technology worthy of Tom Swift, the absurdities to which Anderson can take this story are infinite. For starters, there is his description of Delaware as a mysterious land, which sounds more like Nepal than a Mid-Atlantic American state, although he manages to combine the two profiles with throw-away lines like:

"For one hundred years, Delaware has been cut off from the other states, isolated completely as a result of its overpriced and prohibitive interstate highway tolls. For one hundred years, almost no one has gone in or come out. Only the bravest of explorers have penetrated this exotic land."

Aside from playing with reality within the story--a reality which the characters themselves try to maintain (Katie is indignant at the suggestion of mountain ranges or dinosaurs in Delaware)--Anderson takes liberty with the format of the text, writing downwards to describe a great fall, or inserting pages from the seminal tourist book about Delaware: The There and Back Again Guide to Greater Delaware, which assures you, among other things, that any intrepid visitor will "catch very few of Delaware's disfiguring diseases." And always there is the narrator, who is not so much omniscient as chatty, sometimes diverting attention away from the action of the story with a self-conscious air of mischief and tongue so firmly lodged in cheek that it may never come out again. These playful stylistic touches made me think of experimental literature like Tristram Shandy or If on a Winter's Night a Traveller, where the act of reading the story is part of the story itself.

Allusions, of course, which will go flying straight over the heads of the 8 to 12 audience which this book is targeting. So where is the appeal? The appeal is in a mysterious original colony which is strangely lacking in vowels; or a vendor who chases our heroes for three days over a 15 cents debt; or a Stare-Eyes competition team with a coach who sounds like a sadistic hockey dad (or just the thought of a Stare-Eyes competition at all!) The appeal is in every crazy detail that Anderson crams into this smart, oh-so-clever book. While at times I thought the descriptions of the impossibly strange indigenous creatures of Delaware went on a bit too long, and the bickering between Jasper and Katie was sometimes more dull than droll, there is plenty of goofy fun and laugh-out loud moments (the face-off between the pacifist monks and the cliche-spouting Jersey gangsters is not to be missed) to carry the story. And the ending, where the ultra-square Jasper is heralded by Lily and Katie, is surprisingly touching. The moment doesn't last long, but it is a reminder that smart humor is never gratuitous. And M.T. Anderson has shown himself to be at his smartest when he is at his strangest.

Cybils: Non-Fiction Picture Books

Last year was my first with the Cybils, and I had the pleasure of serving on the Easy Reader Panel. This year it is my privilege to work with another great group of bloggers on the 2009 Non-Fiction Picture Book panel. I've started paying more attention to non-fiction picture books because of the fact that my daughter enjoys reading them so much. And as authors make more use of the picture book to get informational books into the hands of kids, there's a fantastic array of subjects covered by this kid-friendly format. After only one day of nominations there is already a stellar group of books to read and from which to pick the finalists. You can see that ever growing list here (and if you have a favorite title that isn't already on the list be sure to nominate it!) And be sure to check out the blogs of the other members of the Non-Fiction Picture Book Panel:

Panel Organizer: Jone MacCulloch, Check It Out

Panelists (Round I Judges):
Bill and Karen, Literate Lives

Kara Dean, Not Just For Kids

Amanda Goldfuss, ACPL Mock Sibert

Jone Rush MacCulloch (see panel organizer)

Debbie Nance, Readerbuzz

Franki Sibberson, A Year of Reading

Carol Wilcox, Carol's Corner

Round II Judges:
J.L. Bell, Oz and Ends

Shirley Smith Duke, SimplyScience

Roberta Gibson, Wrapped in Foil

Emily Mitchell, Emily Reads

Carol Hampton Rasco, Rasco from RIF

Winnie the Pooh gets an update

Okay, I'll admit it: I'm not a huge fan of Pooh. I kind of like Piglet, and Eeyore is sort of amusing, but when I tried to read the original Pooh books on my own as a child, there was no connection. Perhaps I've been stunted as a person, but there you have it.

All the same, I found myself peeved and protective when I read on the BBC website that a new character, Lottie the Otter, has been created for the first "original" Pooh story since Milne stopped writing them himself. I'm pretty sure I understand why the creation of a new character was deemed necessary, why these "timeless and beloved characters" couldn't be trusted to pull in new audiences on their own. Like the sudden increase in girly trains in the Sodor Roundhouse, marketers (may I blame marketers here?) and creative controllers of these established franchises need those new audiences, otherwise why bother? They probably want to be seen as updaters, too, and updating means inserting female characters were there weren't any. As I try and think back to the inhabitants of the Hundred Acre Wood, the only girl character I can remember is Kanga, and she was pretty much resigned to wearing an apron and hopping after Roo. Admittedly not much of a modern character for today's little princesses.

So how does Lottie stack up? Well, according to the article she is described as "feisty," which makes sense; why go through the bother of creating a new character and then have her be sedate? She likes cricket. What ho! and all that. She is a stickler for etiquette. Okay......no mommy issues there, right? But, so we absolutely, positively know she's the new girl character, she's wearing pearls. Now, perhaps my perspective is a bit colored at the moment because I am reading Packaging Girlhood, in which the authors berate the trend of accessorizing young girls at every turn--usually with a handbag, although that just would not be practical at all when trying to hit a googly. Or perhaps it's because I attended a Southern women's college, at which the running joke--certainly among us hip artistic types--was that it was the place where pearls went with everything: jeans, sweats, shorts--everything. Whatever--the pearls really annoy me.

What it comes down to, at least for me, is this: if the original product wasn't good enough on its own, leave it to the original fans to love as it was. Pooh's devotees will have the requisite passion and enthusiasm to introduce the books to new audiences without the aid of faux modern girl characters. Lottie the Otter, even in the eyes of this non-Pooh fan, you've got some big shoes to fill if you want to claim your place in the Hundred Acre Wood.

Are you ready for the Cybils?

Somewhere between the Nickelodeon Kid's Choice Awards and the John Newbery Medal sits the Cybils. Now in its fourth year, the Cybils, or Children's and Young Adult Bloggers' Literacy Awards, aims to provide a service where popular meets literary. Any book published in English within the contest year is eligible, and any on-line reader/frequenter/passerby can nominate a book within a range of categories. Once nominations close, a group of panelists, selected from volunteers within the children's and YA blogging community, will read the books, discuss the blooks, blog about the books, and finally present the nominees which will then be read, discussed, and blogged by a group of judges. The entire process is transparent, with updates and progress provided on blogs. You can even follow them on Twitter. The final, triumphant results are announced in February. Last year's winners are here.

Nominations for this year's Cybils Awards open tomorrow, October 1, and will remain open until the 15th. If you have a favorite childrens or YA title, be sure to head on over to the Cybils website, read the nomination rules, and fire away. This is the one literary award where anyone who loves books for kids can be a part of the process.

Can Lunch Lady meet these requirements?

Not to go on about it, but for anyone who might have wondered just what a professional librarian is supposed to be able to do, and why it's not just about loving books, the Association for Library Service to Children has updated their competency requirements. School Library Journal reported about the update earlier this week. Librarians serving children should be up to snuff on everything from Babar to Web 2.0.

I read this with interest, because just this morning I was thinking about the reasons I became a librarian in the first place. And in looking back on my decision, it was never about the books. It was never about being helpful, although there is an undeniable rush when I am able to connect a patron to exactly what they want. It's all about the information. I wanted a job where I could ferret around and learn stuff. And in that regard, librarianship has pretty much lived up to that criteria. Just this morning I learned, along with a patron, about making vegetarian smoothies. I'm pretty sure I'll never make one, but I now know where to look if I want to (Green for Life by Victoria Boutenko.) The reason I find book banning and challenges so troublesome is that they stop the flow of the information; the continuing process of daily learning, even if what you learn is not something you will personally adopt or absorb. In a world where everyone has an opinion, it's important to have a place where people--and more specifically, kids--can access information without being judged or questioned. It's a responsibility I take seriously.

So that's why I wanted to be a librarian, but to actually perform as a well-rounded professional, there's a whole bunch of other stuff I have to be able to do, from attending workshops to enduring an irate patron who is giving her local public servant a piece of her mind (I had that pleasure earlier this week.) And the ALSC has most kindly indentified all those necessary skills and put them in a handy document to remind me, and inform non-librarians, of just what it is I need to do. So if I get a little tetchy because it is suggested that anyone who is kid-savey and kind can be a librarian, just remember that my job is more than stacking bestsellers on a shelf.

An Open Letter to Dan Gutman

Dear Mr. Gutman,

As I sit here, with the sun setting on the 2009 baseball season, hanging around and waiting for the Red Sox to clinch a postseason berth (magic number currently stands at 6,) my mind is wandering (it's not a very interesting game.) I have been following the adventures of Joe Stoshack since Honus, straight through to Ray, with various degrees of interest. I keep coming back to the series because: 1) I love baseball and 2) I love time travel stories. So what I want to know is this--when will we be able to read Ted and Me?

Seriously, I think Stosh needs to have an adventure with The Splended Splinter, The Kid, The Greatest Hitter Ever (er....evah!) He needs to meet the player who holds one of the few untouchable records left standing in this post-steroid error. He needs to meet a man who was willing to interrupt his Hall of Fame career not once, but twice, in order to serve his country. More importantly Stosh needs to meet a Red Sox player! He needs to visit that lyric little bandbox known as Fenway Park and stand in the shadow of the Green Monster. He simply hasn't lived as a baseball fan otherwise.

One of the things I admire about your series is how you always attempt to represent the ballplayers honestly, warts and all. I challenge you to find a subject as marvelously flawed and complex as Ted Williams. (You could probably sneak in a fly-fishing scene too, if you were so inclined.) If you are looking for larger than life, they don't get much larger than Teddy Ballgame.

Fenway Park will be celebrating it's 100th birthday in 2012. If you start writing now, you could have Ted and Me ready in time!

I'm looking forward to Roberto.

Cheers,
Kara

Elephants Cannot Dance. Says who?

Both Elephant and Piggie can dance in this cute promotional game. This is the sort of time waster that is allowed childrens librarians, because it is work related (wink, wink.) I like the Funky Trunky.

Rave Review: Lunch Lady

Lunch Lady and the Cyborg Substitute
Lunch Lady and the League of Librarians
by Jarrett J. Krosoczka

The Punk Farm author and illustrator has created a silly and highly appealing superhero for young graphic novel readers. Each volume starts with a crime, foiled by a masked (and rubber-gloved) crusader who is none other than our intrepid heroine. The first volume, which involves a plot to replace all the teachers at school with cyborgs so that the kids will elect one particular teacher Most Popular, introduces the central characters: Lunch Lady, who is serving justice and serving lunch; Betty, who is also a lunch lady and fills the role of Q, devising new gadgets for Lunch Lady in the bowels of the Boiler Room (which can be secretly accessed through an entrance hidden behind the refrigerator;) The Breakfast Bunch--Hector, Terrance, and Dee Dee--a study group-cum-band of buddies who discover Lunch Lady's double life and try to help her, although as the series is continuing their assistance is actively discouraged by Lunch Lady; and Milmoe, the school bully who continuously picks on the Breakfast Bunch, although Dee Dee stands up to him on a number of occasions, while her more timid friends try to avoid trouble at all costs.

The humor in the books is both textual and visual. Lunch Lady often uses types of food as exclamations ("Sweet Potatoes!") and phrases like, "I'm on him like cheese on macaroni!" Images of Lunch Lady sneaking about like a ninja or delivering high-flying kicks while swinging fish-stick nun chucks and hurling chicken nugget bombs, have high goof-appeal. Some of Lunch Lady's other cool gadgets include a Spatu-copter, a Lunch Tray Laptop, Taco-Vision Night Goggles, and a Bananarang. The only color used is a hue of rubber-glove yellow, which is sometimes used in the background, in the action lines, or to accent Lunch Lady's costume.

My only complaint with the books, and this is a clear indication of my bias and bruised ego, is the use of evil librarians in Lunch Lady and the League of Librarians. The plot revolves around a coalition between the school and public librarians to destroy all copies of a new video game which is due to be released. Their plans are discovered by both the Breakfast Bunch and Lunch Lady who work separately to foil the librarians (who, by the way, had some nifty high-tech of their own. They would counter any attacks with, of course, books, that could project laser images of central characters. Thus, the "Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe" attack projected a laser Aslan.) The librarians are not just out of touch in terms of their attitudes towards video games, but they are grumpy and belligerent towards their patrons. Dee Dee, who is an avid reader, seams to be one despite the librarians. At the end of the book, when Lunch Lady sets up the sort of reading/gaming program available at many libraries today, and the principal asks her if she would like to be the new school librarian--well! That's just beyond the pale. Because anyone can be a librarian, right, MLS not withstanding. It's a shame that librarians, a group still subject to unflattering stereotypes, were not at all redeeming (one of them spat out, "I prefer media specialist" in a most uncivil manner.) Here's hoping that in future books, a more positive librarian makes an appearance as a replacement for this band of criminals.

But, as I said, that is my only complaint. This is a fun series that will appeal to reluctant readers and fans of graphic novels equally. I look forward to the further adventures of Lunch Lady.

Rave Review: Stitches

I was not originally going to write a review of this book (and whether this post proves to be a critique or a rambling observation still remains to be seen,) but, having just put it down, I wanted to say something about it. I could have quickly tweeted--"Just read 'Stitches' by David Small. Wow!"--and anyone interested who saw the tweet would have no doubt commented. But that didn't seem fair treatment to this unusual autobiography. 'Unusual' is really an understatement; "harrowing', 'dark', 'grizzly', 'bleak' might be more accurate descriptors. But I want to keep a book which is so reliant on the use of images from becoming bogged down with words. Also, anyone who is familiar with the bigger picture knows that David Small grew up to become a Caldecott Medal winner, married a fellow writer, wrote and illustrated the playful Imogene's Antlers, and--most importantly--survived the story within the pages of Stitches. His is ultimately a story of triumph! And yet.....well.....let's just say, thank goodness for catharsis.

Small starts his story when he is six, an age when the intense emotional repression in his family has become evident. He talks about the language used by his family; his father pummels a boxing bag, his mother slams doors, and his brother thrashes away at a drum kit. David's language is not art, as the reader would be forgiven for assuming, but illness. There is not much that David can do about it, but he is chronically ill. He is born with a sinus ailment, and his father's attempts to treat the respiratory problems with radiation will result in David developing cancer. And yet, ghastly as this is, the story that Small tells up to this point is unimaginable enough. He tells about his mother, born with her heart on the wrong side of her chest, which becomes a tragic allegory for her inability to communicate; he tells of vacations spent with a grandmother who's taciturn nature masks increasing insanity; and always there is the presence of an inexplicable, unfathomable rage which courses through the family.

And yet, as I read this book, I was struck by the fact that I could not hate these warped, disturbed people who raised David Small. This is a testament to his storytelling craft as well as the images he creates; his mother, for instance, is often portrayed with opaque, flashing glasses which prevent us from seeing her eyes. It is as if he is acknowledging that there was more going on than any child could understand. When I read Small's brief note at the end, in which he says that "maturity, reflection, and some family research" has led him to a new understanding of his mother, I felt vindicated as a judge of character. However, Small makes it quite clear that his parents damaged him immensely, and he judges them appropriately.

And, as mentioned, there is the big picture. In a recent issue of Publisher's Weekly, Small wrote a three page article about why he writes. That article, like this book, is presented graphically. He represents himself as Frankenstein, a monster made monstrous through no fault of his own. In that article he explains how the writing of Stitches has helped him feel much better, though he is Frankenstein still. And while the book does not end happily, it does end--which means that there is a survivor to tell the story. Small has illustrated picture books which have been at times exuberant (When Dinosaurs Came with Everything,) reflective (The Friend,) and celebratory (The Library.) As readers we do not always get the full story behind the creators of the books we love. With Stitches we are treated (if that could possibly be the correct word in this context) to a level of revelation beyond what most readers could imagine. Read this book, and marvel.