I Want My Hat Back by Jon Klassen

Sometimes - no, oftentimes - the simplest books end up being the best books. Here is a 100% complete summary of I Want My Hat Back. Eh-hem...

1. Bear cannot find his hat.
2. Bear asks various woodland creatures, “Have you seen my hat?”
3. The various woodland creatures respond to the contrary.
4. Bear realizes that he has, indeed, seen his hat.
5. Bear gets his hat back.

Simple, yes, but it is in the pictures and the dialogue that I Want My Hat Back becomes a book worthy of repeated readings. Children will realize they have seen Bear’s hat before he does. One of the woodland creatures, Rabbit, appears to be wearing it. Oddly enough, it is Rabbit who is most insistent that he has not seen Bear’s hat. Rabbit insists, “I would not steal a hat” and demands, “Don’t ask me any more questions.” Eventually Bear realizes where his missing hat is, and the climactic confrontation and subsequent reunification of Bear and hat is where the fun starts.

Children will ask all sorts of questions and have all sorts of opinions. Did Rabbit lie? Did Rabbit steal the hat? Is Bear dumb or is Bear just not very observant? Is Rabbit suspicious? Is Bear suspicious? Is the resolution fair? When I read it with second graders, the reading took five minutes but the discussion was spirited, vocal, hotly debated, and twenty minutes long.

I don’t want to give away the end of the book, but it’s awesome. It’s clever, surprising, funny, and refreshingly different from what one might expect from a typical children’s book. Here’s a 100% complete summary of what you should do. Eh-hem...

1. Get the book.
2. Read the book slowly.
3. Look carefully at the illustrations.
4. Draw conclusions with each page, especially near the end.
5. When you think you've got it - about 3 pages from the end - pat yourself on the back and smile at the clever surprise ending.
6. Then turn the page and realize that you really never saw it coming.
7. Repeat. With friends.

Parental Superpowers

When my son asked me about having superpowers, he meant it as a "What if...?" question. Instead it lead my brain down a rabbit trail of thoughts, starting with the belief that I was already in possession of numerous superpowers, all parenting related, and ending with the realization that there is truly only one superhero in our household. And it lead to my latest column. (Read it on the newspaper's website here.)

“If you could choose two superpowers, what would they be?” my son wondered one gray winter morning over breakfast, as if the day’s agenda included re-creating his parents as comic book characters.

“Just two?” I asked.

“Yeah, just two.”

“That’s a tough one. Let’s see, superpowers...” I tried to buy time (superpower: stalling), but kids sometimes use questions only to introduce their own answers. This was such a time. I needn’t have delayed.

“I already know mine,” he interrupted. “Invisibility and teleportation.”

“No, you don’t want invisibility,” I told him. “Invisibility would only get you in trouble.” (superpower: wisdom)

“But what about teleportation? Then I could, like, just show up at school. I wouldn’t have to walk.”

“Seems wasted when you live less than a block away.” (superpower: observation)

“Yeah, well...” he muttered, shrugged, and slurped his last three Cheerios, a whole grain ellipsis punctuating his unfinished thought.

Still not prepared with a response, I deferred to my daughter. (superpower: diversion) “Hey, Meg,” I yelled down the hall to my no-longer-sleeping yet still-in-bed oldest. “If you could choose two superpowers, what would they be?”

“Invisibility and mind reading.”

“Mind reading? People already SAY plenty of nasty things. Why would you want to know everything they’re NOT saying?” (superpower: persuasion)

“Good point,” she conceded.

“Besides, you’re already invisible.” I added. “You haven’t appeared at breakfast all week.” (superpower: humor)

“You guys are freaks.” This was my wife’s unexpected contribution, added with a slight roll of her eyes and accentuated by the thwack of her coffee cup on the kitchen table. “He just throws out ‘superpowers’ during breakfast, and suddenly you three are engaged in full-on conversation. Is there some standardized list of superpowers that I’m not aware of?”

“Well there’s flying and super strength and speed. Those are pretty standard,” I inform her. (superpower: analysis)

“Yeah, like Mr. Incredible and Dash - pshooo!” the boy says, providing his own sound effects.

“I meant real superheroes like Superman and Spiderman and the Flash.” (superpower: suspension of disbelief)

“Real superheroes?” my wife asks.

“But you have to watch out for guys like Batman,” I continue. (superpower: avoidance) “Batman was just a normal guy with cool gadgets. No super-strength or anything.” (superpower: rambling)

The boy nodded his agreement.

“You know what?” Jennifer placed both hands on the table and stood slowly. “You all just keep making stuff up, all your invisi-portation and tele-bility.”

“Invisibility and teleportation?”

“Whatever. Here’s the deal.” She paused and glared at each of us in succession. “I can clear the table without you noticing.” We looked down and sure enough, our cereal bowls were missing. “I can get dishes, laundry, and bathrooms clean faster than you can get them dirty. I can organize transportation for dance, soccer, swim, and after-school meetings and - legally, mind you - get everyone there on time. I pick up the clutter and lay down the law. So you can talk about superpowers all you want.”

“I’ve got work to do.”

(superpower: Mom)

The Pint Man by Steve Rushin

This site is generally home to children’s book recommendations, but occasionally a grown-up book comes along that deserves a mention. I have been a fan of Steve Rushin’s writing since his early days with Sports Illustrated and was curious to see if his style would translate to a novel.

The answer, without a doubt, is yes. The Pint Man is funny and clever and filled with Rushin-isms. And while the book is not for children, it is most definitely a book for certain grown-ups, including people who:

• have spent regular time at a local watering hole, preferably an Irish establishment.
• have ever admired a public restroom.
• enjoy a pint of Guinness. Or Harp. Or Fosters.
• think it’s funny that a bar has booths made from salvaged church pews, above which hangs a sign quoting Mark 2:16. “When the scribes and Pharisees saw him, they said unto his disciples, How is it that he eateth and drinketh with publicans and sinners?”
• also think it’s funny that the bar’s resident bulldogs (one, sadly, deceased) are named Edith and Drinketh.
• are personally offended by the general public’s inability to correctly use apostrophes.
• keep random reference books on hand to settle trivial disputes.
• spend time on Wednesday afternoons watching the English Premier League or wish their schedule would allow it.
• think pollen and swollen ought to rhyme, like main character Rodney, and “not just because they look alike. They were partners in crime. One led to the other.”
• appreciate wordplay, the sort employed by Carnac the Magnificent. (Answer: “Sis boom bah.” Question: “What is the sound made when sheep explode?”)
• keep every book they read.
• find connections between life and literature.

The list could continue, but we’ll stop there. Suffice it to say, if you see yourself (or another reader) in the above criteria - if not perfectly, at least partially - then Rodney’s tale of losing employment, nourishing a relationship, sheltering an injured friend, and pursuing a refreshing beverage just might be for you.

New Post at the Nerdy Book Club

Thank you to the Nerdy Book Club blog for giving me the opportunity to share about junior high study hall, pink eye, and other such reading topics in my post The Non-Reading Reader. It's an honor to be included.

To everyone who makes their way to Help Readers Love Reading from the Nerdy Book Club post, thanks for visiting. I hope you return soon, and it would be great to hear from you. To regular readers of HRLR who came here to read a new post, please visit The Nerdy Book Club to see how pink eye helped me earn my NBC membership.

Thanks, everyone, for visiting, reading, and doing what you do to help readers love reading.

The Chronicles of Harris Burdick by Chris Van Allsburg

After The Mysteries of Harris Burdick poked and prodded the imaginations of countless readers over the years, now comes The Chronicles of Harris Burdick. Fourteen award winning authors were invited to create their own stories based on the original images. (Or, if you take Lemony Snicket’s introduction to heart, each author has now come forward with one of Mr. Burdick’s original stories, placed in their care for various reasons. This theory, however, has been denied, dismissed, or avoided by all of the included authors.) Each image is reprinted at the beginning of its corresponding story, and each story is as imaginative and mysterious and adventurous and horrifying as the personal stories created by readers over the past twenty-seven years.

Except for one thing. These stories, while incredible and wonderfully written, are personal only to their authors. Each story comes from one author’s imagination, not from the imagination of the readers. This reader was let down by the stories, not by the stories themselves, but by the fact that they didn’t match my stories.

Also, I always imagined Harris Burdick’s pictures and captions to be from carefully worded picture books, not longer works of fiction. I pictured fourteen books for the fourteen images, with each page of each book dominated by another incredible Burdick image and similarly carrying a one or two line caption to advance the narrative. In my mind when the mysteries Harris Burdick were eventually solved and released to the public, they would include picture upon picture, not paragraph upon paragraph.

Now that I’ve got my personal feelings out there, let me be fair. The Chronicles of Harris Burdick is a wonderful collection of stories based on equally wonderful images. These short stories have the potential to inspire more stories from readers - additional chapters and sequels and more detailed accounts of what’s Under the Rug or who else must play The Harp or what happened to all of The Seven Chairs.

But beside all that, readers of the original book who have wondered and imagined for all these years will certainly want to read how other readers imagined these stories. Sure, they are all award winning authors, but they were all readers and wonderers first. Just like us.

The Mysteries of Harris Burdick by Chris Van Allsburg

The introduction to The Mysteries of Harris Burdick explains how a mysterious man - Harris Burdick - arrived at a publishing company one day many years ago and shared fourteen images, each with a caption and each from a different story. Mr. Burdick explained that there were many other pictures for each story and was curious if his work was of any interest to the publishing company. The man Mr. Burdick spoke with, Peter Wenders, said he was indeed interested in the stories based on these phenomenal and fascinating images. Leaving the fourteen images, Mr. Burdick promised to return the following morning with the complete stories.

He never arrived, and Mr. Wenders never heard from Harris Burdick again.

Eventually the fourteen images, the story titles, and their captions were published as this book, The Mysteries of Harris Burdick. But without the complete stories, readers are left to fill in the ginormous gaps with their own imaginations. In the twenty-seven years since it’s publication, readers have done just that, creating adventurous, horrifying, mysterious, touching, mystical - and wholly personal - stories of their own based on Mr. Burdick’s incredible images. Many people have written them down, but most stories live only in the imaginations of the readers, free to evolve with each reading and each imagining.

Teachers and parents will love this book. It moves the imaginations of students and children, inspiring creative writing and storytelling for a long time after reading.

Now comes The Chronicles of Harris Burdick. Fourteen award winning authors were invited to create their own stories based on the original images in The Mysteries of Harris Burdick. Click to read my review of this new collection based on Harris Burdick’s original work. (Review and link coming soon.)

A Monster Calls by Patrick Ness

When Conor awakens at 12:07, seven minutes past midnight, he should be thankful. Sort of. Waking up from a recurring nightmare brings a merciful end to the nightmare itself, but it also leaves the dreamer with new, fresh memories. Alone, and in the middle of the night, no less. Then Conor realizes why he woke up, and it’s not simply to escape the nightmare. No. Someone called his name. Conor.

At 12:07.

Conor looks out the window and sees the normal sights: the church on a small hill, the nearby train tracks, and the ancient yew tree rising from the center of the graveyard. Clouds temporarily obscure the moon, but when its light returns, Conor can once again see the yew tree. Which is now in his backyard.

It is the monster.

The monster tells Conor it is “everything untamed and untameable. I am this wild earth, come for you, Conor O’Malley.” Conor asks what the monster wants from him, but the monster responds, “It is not what I want from you, Conor O’Malley. It is what you want from me.”

Conor’s mother is terminally ill, and Conor is no better at navigating the emotions that come with the prospect of losing a parent than any other 13-year-old. But facing that daunting future helps explain why a monster in his backyard isn’t too scary. It helps readers understand why, when a monster says he’s come for him, Conor can nonchalantly respond, “So come and get me then.” It’s why Conor can shrug off a monster’s roar with “Shout all you want. I’ve seen worse.”

Yet despite the title A Monster Calls, the monster insists he’s only responding, that Conor called him. The monster informs Conor he will return on further nights to tell him three stories. “And when I finish my three stories, you will tell me a fourth. You will tell me a fourth, and it will be the truth. Not just any truth. Your truth.”

This is the truth from the nightmare, the truth that Conor has vowed to never tell anyone.

A Monster Calls is a powerful novel and memorable for many reasons, but two things come first to my mind. The interaction between Conor and the monster is one of the book’s strengths. A monster who could destroy Conor in a heartbeat patiently responds to Conor’s questions and demands and lack of respect. Second, I love the fact that the monster’s stories are not cut and dried parables with obvious morals, that these stories cause Conor to explode, “That’s a load of crap!” and the monster to demand, “You think I tell you stories to teach you lessons? You think I have come walking out of time and earth itself to teach you a lesson in niceness?”

But as the monster says, “Stories are wild creatures. When you let them loose, who knows what havoc they might wreak?”

A Monster Calls is a wild creature. Let it loose. Watch the havoc.

A New Family Experience

This column appeared in last Monday's local newspaper. The intensity has been turned up a notch or two at practices, or so the boy tells me, to prepare for the meets in the new year. We're not sure what the parents should do to prepare for the upcoming meets, however.

Thanks for stopping by the site. You can view the original article on the newspaper's website here.

Kids now days participate in a wide variety of activities, and our children are no exception. From games to tournaments, recitals to meets, our family has been there. We've sat on bleachers, folding chairs, cushioned seats, and God’s green earth. We've walked for miles, stood for hours, and bought (and sold) more than our share of licorice whips and walking tacos.

But recently we added a new and thoroughly unique experience. A swim meet.

This is our first year with a child on swim team. Now, at six weeks and two meets into the season, we’ve realized that this youth activity is like no other we’ve experienced.

Many youth sports are played at the mercy of the weather. Sun and heat, wind and rain, cold and snow - as long as there’s no thunder, lace ‘em up. Some youth activities occur under controlled conditions. Basketball and volleyball are inside (but some gymnasiums are infamously arctic), hockey is also indoors (oddly, in rinks often warmer than gyms), and dance recitals are held in beautiful theaters (but there’s never enough light to read the program).

Swim meets are the only sports where the conditions are controlled to be miserable. It’s August in the Caribbean minus the beach, sun, palm trees, and pina coladas. Which leaves two things: hot and damp. But since it’s still winter outside, every open door brings an arctic blast. Wearing a tank-top and mukluks would be appropriate. Maybe recommended.

Volunteering at kids’ events comes with certain perks. Keeping the score book at a basketball game earns court-side seats. Assistant coaches are privy to lineup changes and secret strategies. Even the mom who brings the orange slices to the soccer match gets to hang out with the team.

Parents who volunteer as timers at swim meets certainly get great seats: right behind the starting blocks. Swimmers’ starts are meant to be fast, not necessarily pretty, and splashing will occur. Frequently. In your direction. Recording times becomes rather challenging. Pencil, meet wet paper. Swimmers enter the pool on your right, exit the pool on your left, and lean over your shoulder to ask, “What was my time?” If the splash doesn't get you, the swimmers will.

Even casual fans share the timers’ experience. Cheering for swimmers from the first three rows of bleachers is like an afternoon at Sea World, minus the killer whales. Makes the front row on Splash Mountain feel like the Sahara.

All kids’ activities have their own version of whistles, cheers, announcements, horns, starting guns, and “Stee-rike three!”

At first glance the sounds of swim meets might appear similar. Each event begins with a whistle, a “Take your mark,” and a horn. Our son’s last meet had 141 events all occurring in a room constructed entirely of tile, glass, and echoes. Every whistle-istle-istle and “Take your mark-ark-ark” and HONK-onk-onk reverberates long after splashdown. All 141 of them.

But swim meets, in all honesty, aren’t completely unique. Regardless of the activity, the smile of a medal- or ribbon-holding child makes the heat, humidity, and loss of hearing small prices to pay. You’ll be smiling every step of the way back to the car.

Every squishy step.

Real-Life Lessons

This article appeared in last Monday's newspaper. In the week since its original publication, I'm sorry to report, there are no updates to the story. Not that I expected anything different.

When you boil it down, a great deal of parental instruction falls into one major category: responsibility. Children need to know that it is their responsibility to brush their teeth, finish their homework, behave in an acceptable manner, and put on clean underwear.

As parents we keep on our kids about such things so that as adults they have their own teeth, achieve the tasks set before them, and behave as civilized contributors to a peaceful society. And wear clean underwear.

Yet we know that children aren’t perfect. They make mistakes, and mistakes lead to more lessons about responsibility. I’ve got no problem with that.

But what frustrates me to no end, makes me want to throw up my hands and yell something unsavory, is that even when a parent’s lesson is taken to heart and a child does exactly what has been taught, the outcome can still turn sour.

I’m not talking about getting cavities. That happens. Even completed homework can get eaten by the dog. It’s the bigger stuff.

Our daughter wanted her own iPod. Her mom and I discussed it. What are the positives? The negatives? Most importantly, has she demonstrated sufficient responsibility to warrant such a purchase?

Yes, she had, we agreed.

She responsibly saved her own money. She diligently bypassed short-term trifles for a long-term purchase. Basically, she proved us right.

She got her iPod.

She took care of it. She asked us before purchasing music or installing new apps. She designed and purchased her own iPod cover using a photo she took of a palm tree and printed “Palm Tree Girl” across the top. She used the alarm, took notes, read the news, and even read ebooks.

And then it got stolen.

Brilliant.

What do you say to that? Where is the lesson in this? “Sweetheart, sometimes even when you do everything right, someone else’s shallow actions and irresponsibility can take away something you’ve worked so hard for.”

Nice.

Welcome to the real world where not all people value responsibility, where a person’s long-term achievements can be crushed by another’s short-term greed, and where doing the right thing can still result in frustration, anger, and disappointment.

In all of this, however, I can give thanks that it’s a stolen iPod, not a missed meal. I can give thanks that my daughter has shown such responsibility and that the employees at the doctor’s office were empathetic.

So I’m thankful.

And through it all I have faith that the lessons my daughter has learned - and the lessons we’ve learned from her - will not be forgotten. She’s handled herself well, which brings joy to her mother and me. And we’ll all certainly take more care of our belongings.

So one might say I’m faithful, joyful, and more careful.

And I hope that maybe there’s a parent wondering why their child went to a doctor’s appointment and came home with an iPod. I hope someone will follow the request that appeared on the iPod’s screen to return it to the office where it was stolen. I’m hoping a friend or relative might question the appearance of an iPod where there wasn’t one before.

But honestly, I’m not hopeful.

Sorry. Just being truthful.

Guys Read: Thriller edited by Jon Scieszka

Jon Scieszka, children’s book author and the nation’s first National Ambassador for Young People’s Literature, founded Guys Read to “to motivate boys to read by connecting them with materials they will want to read, in ways they like to read.” The Guys Read mission lists six points, the first of which is “Make some noise for boys.”

Despite the fact that boys tend to need no help making noise, I wholeheartedly concur.

Guys Read: Thriller is the second volume of the Guys Read Library, following the excellent Guys Read: Funny Business. These books (sports and nonfiction are upcoming subjects) are compilations of short stories from a variety of authors who all share one common trait: Boys read what these authors write.

Scieszka writes in the introduction to Thriller,

“Why is that shady-looking character lurking in the dark alley? What’s he doing with that crowbar? Is that something in his other hand? What is he doing? What has he done?  

That is the mystery.”

Guys Read: Thriller is full of the mysterious. There are ghosts and haunted houses. There are wishes that come true and a bumbling detective. There are pukwudgies, pirates, a missing copperhead snake, and a body on the train tracks. In other words, there’s everything a guy might want in a thrilling book.

At the end of the introduction, Scieszka leaves readers with these words. “What happens next? You read to find out. And don’t look now, but the guy in the alley is turning your way.”

It’s good advice. Get the book. Get reading. And move quickly, before the guy in the alley sees you.

The first book in the Guys Read Library had a great video introduction featuring all of the book’s authors. No such luck this time, but I did find this little gem on YouTube. Enjoy!

Benjamin Bear in Fuzzy Thinking by Philippe Coudray

The latest entry to the ever expanding and impressive Toon-Books collection is Benjamin Bear in Fuzzy Thinking from author Philip Coudray. While the format is slightly different - a series of one page comics rather than the longer stories that make graphic novels - some things remain the same. Just like his predecessors Little Mouse, Benny & Penny, Silly Lilly, Mo & Jo, and others, Benjamin Bear is engaging, age appropriate in reading level and interest, and flat-out funny.

As the title indicates, some folks might describe Benjamin Bear’s thinking as fuzzy. Others might see it as outside the box. Kids won’t care. They’ll be too busy laughing. When Benjamin Bear doesn’t have enough courage to hang glide off a cliff, rather than find a way to build up the needed bravery, he instead gets an angry dog to chase him … right off the cliff. In another scene he gets lost in a giant maze carrying nothing but an apple. Rather than eat the apple to get energy to find a way out, he just sets the apple down and waits. When the ants come for his apple, he follows the ants out of the maze.

Traditional graphic novels and comic books tell stories - longer narratives sometimes broken between issues or separated into episodes in one book. Benjamin Bear is a series of unrelated one-pagers. Think Sunday comics. More than the three-panel weekday comics, but much less than a full graphic novel.

On each page Benjamin Bear faces a problem or challenge. Apple too high in the tree? Pets want to visit the ocean floor? But in a matter of moments, a period of panels, by the end of the page, Benjamin Bear creatively figures out a solution.

All thanks to his fuzzy thinking.

Cold Case by Julia Platt Leonard

As Chapter One opens, Oz Keiller laments the blaring six o’clock Saturday morning alarm clock. By page four he’s grumbling about having to spend the day cleaning the kitchen in his family’s restaurant. On page five Oz complains to readers about his bossy older brother, Dave. Page six brings a broken light bulb outside Chez Isabelle’s door - more mess to clean up.

At this point readers might be thinking of dropping Cold Case back in the book return.

But when the blood appears on the prep table at the top of page seven, readers will find good reason to continue. And if that’s not enough to hook them, the dead body in the freezer on page eight will have them moving quickly to Chapter Two.

Julia Platt Leonard has written a great murder mystery filled with pretty much every ingredient needed for a great murder mystery for younger readers. For example:

• Mom is out of town. In Paris. She won’t be back anytime soon.
• A suspicious relative. Why wasn't Dave’s car home when Oz woke up Saturday morning, and why did the dead man have a note that read “D. Keiller Fri night-midnight. Use back door.”?
• Shifty employees. One guy “disappears” for a while. Another is named Razor. You know that’s suspicious.
• An interesting back story. Oz’s father died of a heart attack before Oz was born, but Oz learns that his father was caught stealing nuclear secrets from Los Alamos National Laboratory.
• Present day connections to the interesting back story. The dead guy? He’s the journalist who broke the story on Oz’s dad.
• A good friend. Rusty is Oz’s combat boot-wearing friend, and she has agreed to help solve the murder.
• Oh yeah, and there’s a politician involved. Nothin’ more suspicious than a politician in a murder mystery.

So basically everyone is a suspect and the closer Oz gets to the truth, the more suspicious everyone seems and the more danger he is in.

Some readers with more distinguished tastes (read: grown-ups) might complain that Cold Case is a formulaic and predictable mystery. Maybe. But the young readers who double as literary connoisseurs are few and far between.

Most young readers just want a good book. And Cold Case will give them just that.