How Do Dinosaurs Say I Love You? by Jane Yolen

Pages: 29

Ages: 2+

Publication: Already Available

Illustrations by : Mark Teague

In this rhyming story, different dinosaurs behave badly for their human parents, but the humans love them despite their misbehavior.  The dinosaurs experience the same things a human child might, such as waking up grumpy and throwing sand at the playground.  The human parents are disappointed, but know that the rewards of a smile or a hug are just around the corner and misbehavior is not enough of a reason to leave/stop loving someone.

This story has a simpler and less diverse vocabulary than some of Yolen's other rhyming stories, but remains fitting for her intended younger audience.  The concept of this story is also a little simpler than Yolen's other works, again because of intended audience.

Yolen presents the concept of misbehavior and unconditional love with simple honesty.  I like that dinosaurs, not children, are the subjects of the book because Yolen takes the "blame" and guilt away from the child as a reader and projects it onto the dinosaurs--an important technique.  Instead of feeling accused, the child will feel empathy for both the dinosaur and the parent.  Also, in seeing the parents still love the dinosaurs after they are bad, young readers can relate the book-parent's unconditional love to their own parents. 

Teague helps the story with big, bright dinosaur pictures and wonderful background details. Since the book is aimed at younger audiences, Teague adds enough details to make the scene look real, but not overwhelm the eye of the younger reader.  Those readers interested in the illustrations will find the dinosaurs' bedrooms interesting and the playground details fun to decipher.  Teague focuses on the dinosaurs in each scene by placing them in the foreground, drawing the readers eye away from open spaces, and coloring the dinosaurs brightly.  The dinosaurs don't look scary, but aren't too "cartoony" either.  It is a perfect balance for the younger readers.

  

How Do Dinosaurs Say I Love You? is a good lesson presented in a gently way--a must have for every loving household.

Rating: 4 and 1/2 Pages

Come to the Fairies' Ball by Jane Yolen

Pages: 29

Ages: 3-7

Publication: Already Available

Illustrated by: Gary Lippincott

In this rhyming story about a fairy whose dress isn't good enough to wear to the open-invitation ball, Yolen weaves a tale that echos many fairy tales.  The fairy, with a dress tattered from hanging too long on a thorny plant, is comforted by ants who encourage her to work diligently until her dress is repaired.  Meanwhile, a grouchy prince won't celebrate at the ball because nothing is good enough for him.  The prince most surely is looking for a beautiful fairy with whom to dance, but can the fairy repair the dress in time for the ball?  And is the late fairy the one who will make everything perfect for the prince?  

Come to the Fairies' Ball uses amazing onomatopoetic vocabulary and still manages to rhyme! This is one of the most interesting rhyming stories I have ever read because of the alliterative and creative words that Yolen uses to describe the action.  The author also sets the fairy kingdom in reality, but does not forget the magic.  Fairies ride to the ball on rabbits, turtles, and butterflies, but readers still sense a bit of magic (and maybe even a little love) in the air.  In keeping in the tradition of fairy tales the book is gently laced with lessons about punctuality, friendship, hard work, helping others, and true love.

As for the illustration, I like that Lippincott eschews the Disney version of fairies and uses earthy tones of browns, greens, pale yellows, and oranges.  Even inside the glowing hall where the ball takes place, the colors remain earthy.  The fairies themselves are not the usual fairies either.  Lippincott portrays the inhabitants of the kingdom as angular and as varied in looks as any group of humans might be.  Many fairies have pointed elf ears, large angular noses, and long thin bodies.  These fairies are far from the rounded, flushing, wand carrying, sparkling versions of fairies children often see in modern media.  There isn't a sparkle or a wand to be found.            

My absolute favorite illustration is that of the actual ball.  The hall is warmly glowing and the fairies are all cutting loose.  There is so much detail in this one picture that readers could quite possibly find a new something every time they open the book.  

In all this story is a fast, fun, rhyming love story that leaves readers believing (in fairies, love, fun, and friendship).  

Rating: 4 Pages 

Don't Know Where, Don't Know When by Annette Laing

Pages: 209
Ages: 9+Publication:
Already Available (2007)

When Hannah, Alex, and Brandon skip out on their summer extracurriculars to wander the campus of Snipesville State College, they wander into the college library. In the library, the children meet a mysterious professor and then find themselves magically transported to WWII England.

The children are asked to take on new names, participate in London evacuations, and solve the mystery of a missing child. Can three American children survive in WWII England? And more importantly, can the children solve the mystery in time?

In her debut novel, Annette Laing delivers. This novel is slow to start, but once the story gets going it is hard to put down the book. Part historical fiction, part mystery, part modern teen lit, and part sci-fi, Laing creates a unique storyline that has something for everyone.

With a wide geographical and temporal range, Laing gently compares and contrasts the lives of modern children in the U.S. with those of children from two different time periods in England. All three settings are during times of war, however the modern U.S. children seem blissfully unaware as to the goings on in the Eastern hemisphere whereas the children in England have bombs being dropped on their doorsteps. Astute readers will be able to draw meaning from Laing’s parallels and juxtapositions.

While the plot and action of the storyline were well developed, I feel like the characters were a little underdeveloped in places. The professor seemed more of a literary device than a person, especially after the forward takes the time to introduce her work to the audience. The professor appears and disappears at various times, but never seems to really give the children any help, or illuminate the story for readers.

Perhaps the main thing that bothers me is that I really don’t like Hannah. The character doesn’t seem to learn much from her hardships. I was actually happy when she was given an old fashioned spanking. On the other hand, Laing may be getting at something very real with Hannah. At her age, Hannah is beginning to form her own opinions and question authority. Regardless of her “issues,” Hannah is coming into her own—a transition that is hard to make no matter what time period one might be in.

What I liked about the book was all the things that the children do get to experience. It is a realistic look at the way things were in WWI and WWII England. I also appreciated the different takes on racism throughout the book. It startled me to hear that blacks were treated so badly in England, and I laughed out loud then the dentist put English superiority into stark perspective. I also like that the foods aren’t so delicious and that children were looked at in a different light during the wars.

In all, I really enjoyed reading this book and I look forward to more adventures with Hannah, Alex, and Brandon.

Rating: 4 Pages

Pumpkin Baby by Jane Yolen

Pages: 28

Ages: 3-6
Publication: Already Available
Illustrated by: Susan Mitchell

When a girl visits her aunt’s pumpkin patch as a three-year-old, her aunt and mother joke about a baby pumpkin. The girl wonders if it is possible to love a pumpkin baby. Later, the girl’s mother jokes with the mailman about a stork baby and the girl imagines a flying baby with long legs.

In this book, Yolen creates an imaginative and fun book about what it might be like to have a younger sibling. As the main character, a little girl, grows older, she finds that there are many different phases of babyhood. Eventually, the little girl gets an actual younger sibling of her own and sees her brother grow through the vegetable and animal stages described earlier in the book. In the end, the girl finds she loves her younger brother no matter what stage of life he is in.

The idea of family and siblings (younger and older) is explored with love within this book. I also like that Yolen hints at the different ways in which to answer the ever- haunting question: “where do babies come from?” Yolen explores and then gently debunks these myths while giving each myth a real life connection through metaphor.

Susan Mitchell illustrates the story in bright colors and big, geometric shapes. The pictures are simple, yet telling. My favorite pictures are the last two pages, where the girl and her little brother share a picnic and then a nap. These pictures illustrate the more quiet part of love that siblings share.

Yolen and Mitchell are a great pair for this story; it is beautifully told and beautifully illustrated.

Rating: 4 Pages

The Scarecrow's Dance by Jane Yolen

Pages: 29

Ages: 4-8

Publication: Already Available

Illustrated by: Bagram Ibatoulline

The Scarecrow's Dance is one of my favorite rhyming books. When an old scarecrow leaves his post in the corn field to dance the night away, he encounters something he never expected.  

The scarecrow gleefully twists and twirls after being relieved of his duty to keep the cornfield free of destructive crows, but quickly returns to his post when he hears a little boy's prayer.  The scarecrow realizes that even though dancing gives him joy, he is just as joyful in knowing that he is the best at keeping the fields crow-free.

Yolen touches on family, joy, and duty in this magical tale of a dancing scarecrow.  The scarecrow is an great example of how one can get restless doing what he/she is supposed to do.  The scarecrow has grown bored on his post and needs to get away for a while. He does so by dancing.  

When the scarecrow realizes that he is needed at his post for the sake of his family (a family that cares very much for him), he feels a renewed sense of joy and pride in a job that he earlier felt was less important that self-satisfaction (dancing).  Children will realize that helping family, or anyone else, might not be the most fun thing in the world, but it feels good to help someone who needs you.  

Ibatoulline beautifully illustrates the didactic story.  The dark colors of the first few pages accurately portray twilight and the coolness of nighttime, but leave enough color to make the reader feel joy when the scarecrow takes off dancing.  The contrast of the colors when the scarecrow looks in on the praying boy is amazing.  The boy's entire room is filled with warmth and love while the scarecrow stands cold, but illuminated.  

My absolute favorite illustration is the pages when the scarecrow is leaping into the sky to position himself back on his pole.  It is a bug's eye view of the scarecrow leaping into the air and the color, composition, and details are absolutely perfect.  I have a feeling that even careful attention was paid in placing the stars in the sky.  

I liked this book so much that I shared it with my nephews who are both under 3.  They loved the book.  The younger nephew repeated the rhyming words and the older nephew seemed to look at the barnyard illustration for hours.  When the nephews visited a few days ago their first request was to read the "ska-cow" book again.  And again we did.  And again.  And again.  And again...

Rating: 5 Pages 

  

The Nutcracker and the Mouse King

Pages: 48

Ages: 5-9

Publication: Already Available

Illustrated by: Gail De Marcken

E.T.A. Hoffman's classic story becomes highly visible when Gail DeMarcken illustrates it.  In the story an enchanted doll makes toys come to life after midnight and DeMarcken captures the adventures of one little girl in vivid snapshots of fantasy.

The illustrations in this book are yet another good example of how to bring to life such a fanciful story.  DeMarcken uses bright colors and the look of a snug, candlelit room to create a feeling of warmth and safety at the beginning of the book.  However, when the lights go out, the colors change to the vivid strangeness of dreams and fantasy.  Each picture is detailed and captures so much more of the imagination than just reading the story.  

This is what a picture book should be.

Rating: 5 Pages  

The Christmas Magic by Lauren Thompson

Pages: 34     

Ages: 3-6

Publication: Already Available

Illustrated by: Jon J Muth

The Christmas Magic is a fun book for younger children to read when Christmas gets close.  The book focuses on Santa Claus and how he knows when Christmas is near.  Thompson does a wonderful job of giving specific details as to what Santa's house looks like and how meticulously Santa works to ready himself for his biggest night of the year.  

So, how does Santa know what to bring all the children of the world?  How does he get the reindeer to fly?  How do all those toys fit on the sleigh?  And most importantly, how does he deliver all those toys in one night?  The answer is right on the cover of the book. Even adults might want to believe again after reading about how much love goes into everything Santa does.

Jon J Muth beautifully illustrates Thompson's story with bright colors and insightful paintings. Children who can't read yet, or just like to add to the story will be able to look at the illustrations and find new things each time.  I also like how Muth eschews the fat, jolly, and red Santa for a character more like the French Father Christmas.

In this book, the pictures and the story create a Santa full of love, magic, and giving, which might be just the right way to introduce a child to Christmas.

Rating: 5 Pages 

Horrid Henry

Pages: 78-90

Ages: 7-10

Publication:  Already Available

Horrid Henry, an Atlantic crossover written by Francesca Simon, is Dennis the Menace for the contemporary crowd.  Horrid Henry's antics can be reminiscent of Disney Channel's Even Stevens Louis Stevens.

I read four Horrid Henry titles including: Horrid Henry, Horrid Henry Tricks the Tooth Fairy, Horrid Henry and the Mega-Mean Time Machine, and Horrid Henry's Stink Bomb.  Each title has 4 stories in one book and several illustrations to go with each story.

Simon weaves didactic tales of bad behavior and possible consequences into funny and true-to- life tales of childhood antics.  The plot of each story moves quickly (it has to because of the length of the story), which means each tale is action packed from the very beginning.   Horrid Henry and alliterate friends (and enemies) find themselves in situations that I remember clearly from my own childhood. 

Whether Henry is tricking his younger brother, Perfect Peter, into thinking boys will wear dresses and lipstick in the future or plotting to trick the tooth fairy into giving him money for a tooth he didn't lose, the tales will make child and adult readers alike laugh at Henry's fervor.  

The only thing I don't really like is that it seems like Simon consciously changed some of the words from British vernacular to American English vernacular.  Henry says words like, "cookie," "candy," and, "dollar coin" instead of "biscuit," "sweets," and "pound coin."   The tooth fairy story seems a little off when Henry's parents promise to give him a dollar coin, which we have, but don't generally use.  Why not have Henry ask for a "Quid?"  Sure, some of the words don't "translate," but a glossary could be included.  I LOVED glossaries for "different languages" when I was a child.

In all, the series was enjoyable to read and will interest readers of a wide variety.  Horrid Henry was fun, fast, and easy to relate to.  

Rating: 4 Pages   

   

Emily the Strange: the Lost Days by Rob Reger and Jessica Gruner

I have to say, I’ve never been a big “counterculture” fan, but this newest installment of Emily the Strange is quite good. I like Emily, even if she is a little creepy.

In this new book, Emily has a tough case of memory loss. Now she’s on a mission to figure out why she has the memory loss, who did it to her, and what she needs to do in order to fulfill her duty. Emily awakes in a town where she’s never been (or so she thinks) and sets out on an adventure to solve the mystery of her amnesia. When clues lead to something bigger than herself, Emily must figure out how to defeat her enemy and save the day. Can she do it in time, or will the unnamed enemy win and send her packing without answers?

Emily is one of the strongest and best developed characters I have read lately. I imagine her slightly deadpan, but even that has a biting sense of humor to it. It is also to the writers’ credit that Emily is a strong, smart, independent, fearless girl who loves science, technology, and solving mysteries. It is rare that all those qualities can be found in the character of a young girl of today’s literature.

The plot of the book was interesting and gave enough clues to guessing, but not too many that the mystery was “easy” to solve. The missing pages of the diary are affixed at the end, so the readers can fill in the gaps that Emily can’t fill herself (or perhaps she can, since she reads them too). There were so may set-ups and pay-offs right at the end, that it seemed almost like the readers had amnesia right along with Emily. Who could have known that Raven was good at driving AND taking impossible dares? Readers find out what Emily knows when Emily knows, thus the genius of the book. However, readers are likely to see all the clues add up before the dénouement if they think of the book in retrospect: clever.

Emily the Strange: the Lost Days will keep readers interested with its mystery, oddball characters (and I don’t mean Emily!), strange science, and witty commentary done in diary style. This will be a must-read for fans and newcomers alike.

Rating 4 and a half pages

Confetti Girl by Diana Lopez

Publication Date: June 2009
Ages: 8-12
194 Pages

Newcomer Diana Lopez colors the tween scene with her debut novel about a normal Latina girl who loves socks, sports, and science. If only Lina’s life were actually that simple.

Apolonia “Lina” is a girl with a lot on her plate. Still smarting from her mother’s death a year ago, Lina and her father can’t seem to find a comfortable place in which to exist with one another. Lina thinks her father is too interested in stories and Lina’s father thinks she is too interested in anything but.

As an added bonus, Lina’s best friend, Vanessa, has begun using her to secretly date a new boyfriend and Lina’s current crush doesn’t seem to like her “that way.” Oh, and Lina’s English grade has dipped so low that she can’t play sports and her teacher has sent her to the school counselor.

Lopez does a smashing job of portraying an all-American character that doesn’t fit neatly into the all-American mold. Lina is Latina and lives in Texas, but she seems to easily transition between the two cultures in which she frequently finds herself. I really like that Lopez makes Lina’s dual world normal and does not focus too much on one culture or the other. In fact, there are dichos disguised as chapter headings in Spanish and English, as well as a healthy smattering of un-translated Spanish throughout the text.

I think this duality will ultimately be to the book’s advantage because both cultures are very real, but neither is shown to be better or dominate, they simply co-exist. The book does not become a culture “war,” but rather a story about a girl finding her place in a world where both cultures exist. Lina does not have to choose one over the other—she can have both. And so can readers.

The character of Lina is vivid and real. She is quirky, smart, tenacious, and unabashedly pursues her unique passions. However, other characters in the story seen a little flat. Vanessa seems to be the all too often used “flakey friend,” Lina’s dad is the clichéd unavailable brooding widower, and Vanessa’s mom is the very epitome of a man-hater. Bleah. While the story is largely about Lina and her struggles, the overall effect of the novel would have been greater if these characters were more developed and didn’t seem purely incidental to the plot.

For the most part, this bildungsroman unfolds as one might expect. However, it is to Lopez’s credit that the novel ends on a positive note, but does not have a syrupy sweet perfect ending. The sense at the end of the book is that things are looking up, but Lina still has some hardships to overcome. The ending is realistic, yet hopeful; but not overdone.

Lopez sends a clear (but subtle) message to her readers: listen to the wisdom of the ages; be who you are, not who you think you should be; and when life hits bottom, there is nowhere to go but up! Lopez reiterates a message that can’t seem to be delivered enough.

Rating: 3 and a half pages

Deep and Dark and Dangerous

Grades: 4-7
Mark Twain Award Nominee 2009-2010

Mary Downing Hahn creates a solid ghost tale with Deep and Dark and Dangerous.

Thirteen year old Ali finds a mysterious picture in an old book and begins to wonder who has been torn out, so when her aunt gives her the opportunity to babysit at a cabin by Sycamore Lake (where the picture was taken), she jumps at the chance. Maybe she’ll solve the mystery!

Soon after arriving at the cabin by the lake, Ali begins to investigate further into the mystery of the picture. In the process of investigation and babysitting her niece, Emma, Ali meets Sissy; a girl who seems to cause trouble wherever she goes. As things begin to escalate, Sissy appears more often and Ali figures out who Sissy is. Could she really be the ghost of the girl from the torn picture?

Hahn weaves a tale of mystery and suspense that will have readers’ hearts pounding through the action scenes. The book has a little bit of a slow start, perhaps focusing too much on the frailty of Ali’s mother and not enough on the mystery itself.

However, once Ali gets to the cabin with her aunt and cousin, things pick up very quickly. The last half of the book is action-packed and offers few refuges from the action. Hahn did an incredible job of building suspense to the point of absolutely bursting before revealing who Sissy really is and winding down the action.

Aside from offering suspense in the plot, Hahn waxes philosophical with such topics of loneliness (how far will one go to have a friend?), spirituality (what happens after death?), guilt (how long does it take to heal childhood trauma?), and redemption (can you truly remedy a wrong by saying you’re sorry?).

Hahn seems to be a little disconnected from her characters, and the conversations surrounding the mystery of the picture get a little redundant and monotonous. Character development also seemed minimal during the book. Perhaps there is a little development on Ali’s part and Emma learns an important lesson about friendship, but Ali’s mother and aunt (those who should have changed the most from solving the mystery) stay static and secondary.

The book will hold the audience's interest and give just enough clues throughout to help astute readers guess the solution before the end of the book. The book might seem a bit scary as “A Ghost Story” is written on the front cover, but it’s the kind of ghost story that is creepy, not gory. The book does what it sets out to do—tell a ghost story that will keep readers guessing the answer to a mystery.

Rating: 4 Pages

Cornelia and the Audacious Escapades of the Somerset Sisters

Grades: 4-6
Mark Twain Award Nominee 2008-2009

Aside from having possibly the best title in a while, Cornelia and the Audacious Escapades of the Somerset Sisters, by Leslie M. M. Blume, has some really crafty storytelling to it as well.

When Cornelia meets eccentric neighbor, Virginia, the two become fast and very unlikely friends; unlikely because a ten-year-old and an old woman are rarely thought of as buddies. However, the friends share two passions: words and storytelling (Cornelia listens and Virginia tells).

The text of the book jumps in time from present to past to present, sometimes within Virginia’s story. While this technique is generally eschewed by children’s authors in favor of a more linear timeline, Blume manages to make the transitions seamless and easy to follow.

The character of Cornelia is well developed even in the beginning of the book as the audience is given clues as to why Cornelia would be such a fast friend of Virginia. Virginia, the source of most of the book's storytelling, shines as Blume’s biggest work of art. Virginia is just crazy enough to be fun and just grounded enough to be serous when the need arises.

With a fast, interlocking plot, Cornelia and Virginia seem to move through time and space experiencing hilarious mishaps while traveling the globe. Each of Virginia’s stories involves some kind of cultural misunderstanding, but ultimately serves as point of didacticism. Each story teaches something, but I really like that Blume lets the readers glean their own meaning instead of pushing one onto them.

Another credit to Blume is that while the ending is sweet, Cornelia does endure a pretty big tragedy: one that readers might suspect, but hope won’t happen. The tragedy ultimately proves to make Cornelia stronger. Cornelia is not left with memories only—a very special trinket reminds her of where she’s been and where she might go.

Blume’s ability to weave stories together -- and to tell good stories at that -- is what makes this book worth the read. The bittersweet novel about growing up and learning about life will keep readers interested and maybe even inspire them to tell tales of their own.


Rating: 4 and a half pages

Findle by Andrew Clements

This is a story for all the young linguists out there. Frindle explores how one person can change or impact the English language. Clements creates a realistic classroom within which a child with “plenty of ideas” decides to undermine his teacher’s love of the dictionary. And, really, what child hasn’t hated hearing these words from their teacher, “Look it up in the dictionary!”?

Nick Allen, the boy with all the ideas, is one part trouble maker, one part genius, and one part Jungian archetype. Nick is Jung’s child archetype (think ornery Peter Pan) in more ways than one, and his juxtaposition with Mrs. Granger as the (eventually) wise old “man” archetype makes the story more interesting. Mrs. Granger is more like the dragon from The Dragon’s Boy by Jane Yolen, than she is Hook from Peter Pan. The difference being that Hook just enjoys terrorizing Pan, while the dragon is trying to teach Artos some important lessons—like Mrs. Granger is for Nick.

When Mrs. Granger asks the children to do things they don’t particularly enjoy, one child, Nick, convinces the rest of the children to show their true selves. In the plot of the book, Mr. Granger and Nick butt heads several times over the simple change of the world "Pen" to the world "Frindle." Soon, an all-out battle takes place. Nick wants to prove that he can create a new word and that naming things is arbitrary. Mrs. Granger just wants the children to see that language has a long and rich history.

As the plot thickens, the children come up with more and more ways to defy Mrs. Granger’s rules and Nick becomes more and more set in his convictions of arbitration. Nick “wins” in the end only to find out years later that Mrs. Granger was on his side the whole time.

Clements creates a classroom with dialog so real, I felt like I was in 5th grade again (however, I still heard those kinds of comments throughout college). His characters are vivid and arc appropriately throughout the story line. The clever twist at the end will give mean, fifth grade, disciplinarian, teachers a better name. This is one of the few stories where the adults are not useless and only to be seen as opponents. Clements gives the adults realistic abilities and even lets the feared adult become the revered adult. In all, the action and timing were right on pace, the characters and plot were involving, and the ending ties everything into a neatly wrapped package. One must wonder… where has my Frindle, uh, pen, gone?

Rating: 4 pages

Among the Hidden by Margaret Peterson Haddix

Haddix produces a thought-provoking beginning book with Among the Hidden. The series, called The Shadow Children, is seven books long and Among the Hidden introduces Luke Garner to the readers.

While the plot of the first book is pretty mundane and somewhat slow moving, it does serve to create a world in which each family is only allowed to have two children. Haddix hints at the ideas of population control (through a corrupt and over-reaching government) and caste systems as a way of social organization.

Perhaps the most interesting part of Among the Hidden is the juxtaposition between poor farmers who are terrified by the government and rich government officials who break the very laws they have passed. Luke, an illegal third child from a poor farming family, sees the world as dangerous and accepts his life as it is. However, Luke’s neighbor, Jen Talbot, the step-daughter of a wealthy government official, sees the world as something for which to strive and feels she deserves to live her life without hiding.

Ultimately, Jen’s rebellious nature and carefree way of living (she isn’t even careful to stay away from open windows!) are what bring on her demise. Luke’s caution and fear of the government keep him alive and eventually give him a privileged life (for a while, anyway).

This beginning book is more of a philosophical introduction than most series, but there is some pretty good action toward the end. What I though to be the climax of the plot—Jen’s death at the rally—doesn’t even actually happen in the plot, but is talked about in passing a few pages later. Jen’s death is so important to the plot because it is what gives Luke the courage to come out of hiding. I am a little disappointed that Haddix chose to leave that scene out, but also understand that in leaving out the scene the audience remains in the dark just as Luke does. When what happened to Jen is described to Luke the audience finds out in the exact same way as he does—very clever!

The world that Haddix creates in this series is very vivid, yet is never named as a particular time or place. I like that the time is not named, but a remains a vague future that could be a few, or a few hundred, or a few thousand years. However, there are limited places that the book can actually take place.

There are telltale signs of "where" that show up in the book. In chapter 17, on page 79 (paperback edition), Jen offers Luke potato chips and soda (in the novel "junk food" has been banned). Linguistically, potato chips only happen in North America, and soda happens only in certain parts of North America. I give to the fact that perhaps the events of Among the Hidden happen so far in the future that language has been homogenized, but that is unlikely. If anything, the readers who eat potato chips and drink soda will feel as though the story takes place where they live; those who eat crisps and drink pop or fizzy drinks will feel as though the story takes place somewhere else.

In all, Haddix uses her first book of the series to introduce readers to a new world and to give insight to Luke. The characters introduced in this first book are complex; full of life, thought, feelings, and needs. Even some of the minor characters like Luke’s mom and dad are well-written and give a sense of what Luke’s life in hiding might be like. Since Luke or Luke’s actions will carry or intercept with forthcoming novels, it was imperative that Haddix spend the most time on him. The mundane and slow plot for the action of the book don’t seem so important when one looks at the energy put into creating Luke, his world, and the thought-provoking text of Among the Hidden. It is the beginning to a series that is sure not to disappoint.

Rating: 4 and a half pages

The City of Ember by Jeanne DuPrau

In The City of Ember—the book and the actual city—commonplace things become uncommon. Many times throughout the text, the characters come across things they can’t recognize, and the reader of the book may do so also. The literary device, known as defamiliarization, serves the story well and enables DuPrau to create a world that is familiar and at the same time unfamiliar.

Within the first few pages of the book, DuPrau lets readers into a world that feels comfortable and real. Descriptions of the city include flood lights, power lines, houses, streets, and even a school (p 4-5), yet it is the description of the sky that gives the reader a sense of the unfamiliar. The sky is described as, “always dark” (4). The familiar and the unfamiliar are presented to the reader upon first entering Ember. The city is normal, and bustling with people, but the lights are—as the reader quickly learns—essential and unnatural.

The escape from Ember is what most notably constitutes defamiliarization for readers as Lina and Doon try to piece together the last few pieces of the puzzle. First, the unfamiliar objects are explained as the two heroes find them in the blackness, then when the lights come on the objects become even more unfamiliar to the characters.

In her box, Lina finds “smooth white rods, each about 10 inches long. At the end of each one, a little bit of string poked out” (188). Both the audience and the characters are not sure what this new thing is, but the audience soon learns that the item is a candle. DuPrau’s description of the candles as the character’s see them defamiliarizes them for the audience.

In his box, Doon finds, “dozens of small packets wrapped in slippery material” which contain “a lot of short wooden sticks, each with a blue blob on the end.” In the next line, the readers learn that Doon has matches.

The brilliance of the scene lies in the fact that Lina and Doon still don’t know that to do with candles or matches. Thus, the familiar tools the reader sees perplex and slow down the heroes. DuPrau forces readers to think about how a match or candle might be described if one had never encountered them before.

More deafamiliarization happans at the end of the book, when Lina and Doon have come to the surface, the sky is once again described in unfamiliar terms allowing the familiar world of the reader’s surface to be viewed once again through new eyes. The moon is described as, “a shining silver circle hanging in an immense black sky” (252-253). Stars are describes as “hundreds and hundreds of tiny flecks of light, strewn like spilled salt across the blackness” (253). Even the sunrise is poetically defamiliarized.

DuPrau’s ability to make the familiar seen strange and out of place is ultimately what carries her book, characters, and readers on a successful journey of hope. Beyond her defamiliarization is DuPrau’s ability to create characters that are rich and developed. Even the smaller characters in Ember are as vivid as the city itself. This tale of post- apocalyptic dystopia finds a delicate balance between the darkness that is the worst of human nature and the light that is the best of human nature.

Rating: 5 Pages

Gregor the Overlander by Suzanne Collins

On the back cover of Gregor the Overlander, author Suzanne Collins, is said to have been “inspired to write (the book) when she wondered what city kids must make of Alice and Wonderland.” However, Collins infuses other influential authors and works into Gregor; intentionally and unintentionally. Carroll’s Wonderland is just the beginning.

Collins seems to draw inspiration from Franz Kafka in her “Crawlers.” Crawlers are overgrown cockroaches that are capable of speech and thought. While Gregor never actually BECOMES a cockroach—or “cockhorse” as the underland king misnames them—he does encounter two very human-like bugs.

Ideas reminiscent of Jules Verne’s Journey to the Center of the Earth also permeate the text. When Gregor falls, he is transported to an underground maze that eventually leads to an entire underground world. Where Collins parts from Verne is that her underground world has humans. In this respect, Collins mergers her idea with Jeanne DuPrau as the human population is not accidental, but placed there for the purpose of human survival after the surface is destroyed. It would have been difficult for DuPrau to inspire Collins (or vice versa) with the idea of an underground city because both authors’ were published in the same year.

There is also a hint of C.S. Lewis’ Narnia that can be found in Gregor the Overlander. After falling down a dryer shaft, Gregor encounters talking beasts that inhabit a seemingly magical land (magical in the sense of impossible—not actual magic as in Narnia).

With all those other books flowing through the veins of Gregor, Collins still manages to strike out a good story of her own. Collins presents a well rounded and well developed cast whose likes, dislikes, and personality flaws give the story many opportunities for set-ups and pay-offs. For example, Boots’ love of purple prompts her to poke Luxa in the eye and prove her ability to conquer within seconds of meeting the girl.

The main character, Gregor, seems to be more caring or perhaps responsible than most eleven year olds might be, but there are times when his youth gets the best of him. Gregor dislikes Luxa from the start, but ultimately sees her for what she really is—a child still hurting from her parent’s death. Gregor’s thoughts in the book are what propel the story as well as add humor and depth to the protagonist. When Gregor first enters the underland and meets up with Temp (readers’ won’t know his name for a while), who asks what smells so good. In that passage, Gregor thinks, “Be cool, be nice, answer the bug.” Gregor tries to make the best of his situation.

All in all, the book offers an interesting plot, well developed characters, a few unforeseen twists, and a quest that is worthy of Joseph Campbell’s hero cycle. Collins plays with words and concepts in such a way to set up the next books to come, but does not give everything away too soon. A good beginning to what I hope will be a good series.

Rating: 4 and a half pages