File Under: 13 Suspicious Incidents by Lemony Snicket

As a fan of Encyclopedia Brown growing up - and to be honest, I never solved the crime before reading the solution in the back of the book - I was pleasantly surprised when I realized that Lemony Snicket’s new addition to the All the Wrong Questions series was cut from the same mold. To be sure, Mr. Snicket has made the product his own using the characters, settings, and dry humor found in the other books in the AtWQ series, but the book format remains unchanged. Start with a short story. Include a crime to be solved or question to be answered. Reveal clues throughout the story. Give the solution in the back of the book. Repeat.

File Under: 13 Suspicious Incidents includes the same cast of characters from All the Wrong Questions. In the two previous books, young Lemony Snicket has earned a reputation in Stain’d-by-the-Sea as someone who can solve problems, and with the town’s population dwindling, there is a distinct lack of such people in town. Stain’d-by-the-Sea’s residents start requesting Snicket’s help with their problems.

There’s stolen gold, a missing newt, and a car out for a joyride. There’s a person who eats too many muffins, broken windows, drifters, and numerous other mysteries to be solved by careful readers … or if you need to turn to the back of the book, there are solutions to be revealed to the not-so-careful readers.

As always with a Lemony Snicket book, there’s more here than one first realizes. Will you catch the clues to the larger All the Wrong Questions storyline? Will you remember the nuggets of information revealed about some of the main characters? Will you find the information hidden in plain view in the solutions? And who will get the last word? (The last word being “_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ .” as shown on the last page.)

With thirteen short mysteries, 13 Suspicious Incidents will appeal to readers who like everything to get wrapped up quickly. Thankfully, at least for this reader, solving the crimes before reading the solutions is optional.

Melvin Beederman: The Curse of the Bologna Sandwich by Greg Trine

Dear Mr. W,

Melvin Beederman is a superhero. The first book in the Melvin Beederman series is The Curse of the Bologna Sandwich. Melvin graduated from the Superhero Academy at the top of his class. He beat out Superhero Carl who is stronger than him because Melvin uses his brain. “Your brain is your greatest weapon,” Headmaster Spinner tells him. That’s also in the Superhero’s Code.

The world in the Melvin Beederman book is the same as ours. Superhero Carl goes to the Fiji Islands while Melvin goes to Los Angeles. But even though the author doesn’t say so, I can infer that in the book superheroes are considered normal. People just accept that there is such a thing.

First, there is a superhero academy that recruits children who then are allowed to attend. When Melvin has to fly 3,000 miles to Los Angeles, he flies next to a jet window and asks the pilot if he can catch a ride. Instead of being like, “Ah! There’s a little dude flying outside the plane!” he calmly asks, “Are you the new superhero?” and then says, “Have a seat on the wing. We’ll be there in a jiffy.” Flying superheroes must be something normal to him.

When Melvin stops his first crime by picking up a car and shaking the bad guys and the stolen money out of the window, people celebrate what he’s done. They don’t freak out. Melvin says he is the new superhero. New means that there must have been an old one sometime. Then a man asks, “Los Angeles has a superhero?” and another says, “We haven’t had a superhero since . . .” That shows that people know about and accept superheroes as normal.

Finally, word spreads quickly in the media. Melvin was on TV and in the newspapers. Headlines say “There’s a superhero in town. Welcome!” They don’t say, “Tiny kid picks up huge car! That’s impossible!” Everyone is glad that he’s in town and they aren’t amazed at what he does. They must know what superheroes do and aren’t surprised to see it happen. They’re happy to see it.

Sincerely,
Brian Fourth Grader

The Melvin Beederman series currently has eight books. Other titles in the series include The Revenge of the McNasty Brothers, The Grateful Fred, and Terror in Tights. The books will serve as a great introduction to superheros for early chapter book readers. Melvin can fly, has super strength, and x-ray vision. (Although the x-ray vision makes him rather uncomfortable. He sees too much underwear.) Melvin also has a weakness. His kryptonite is bologna. Put the Melvin Beederman books in your young readers' hands. Let them exercise their own superpower: reading.

Maya Makes a Mess by Rutu Modan

If Maya Makes a Mess was nonfiction, if author Rutu Modan had created an illustrated account of a real Maya’s actual dinner manners, than this book would document the greatest achievement in childhood dinner manners in the history of children, dinner, or manners.

In the opening pages, Maya is seen eating with her hands, standing at the table, slouching, leaning back in her chair, and feeding the dog. And her parents are heard correcting each behavior. “You need manners!” says her father. “What if you were eating dinner with the QUEEN?!”

Yes, indeed. What if?

DING DONG! goes the doorbell, and in walks a court herald. TOO-TOOT! goes his horn before he announces, “Her Majesty the Queen invites Maya to come to a dinner party. Tonight.”

Maya is whisked away to dinner, her father’s last words, “Mind your manners!” echoing in her ears. At dinner she faces choices and troubles that would mystify the best of us. Does she choose to eat the goose livers, snail salad, or ham jelly? Should she wash it down with spinach juice? Which of the 8 forks, 5 knives, 5 spoons, and 4 glasses should she use? Thankfully the gentleman next to her - a Duke, it is later revealed - helps her out. “Eat it the way you’re used to.”

So she does. And everyone notices. Including the queen.

But Maya is not thrown in jail, as she thinks might happen. Instead the queen does something drastic: She talks to Maya. She asks questions. She listens. Most amazingly, she trusts Maya.

In the end the queen makes an announcement. It’s an amazing, Maya-inspired, dinner-eating command that is embraced by every Duke, Princess, Countess, and Duchess in attendance and justifies every ketchup-fingered young dinner-eater around.

The Shark King by R. Kikuo Johnson

While searching for her favorite food, opihi (oh-PEE-hay, a delicious sea snail), in a seaside pool, a young woman named Kalei has a run-in with a rogue wave and what appears to be a shark. An ominous black outline complete with jagged teeth is headed right at her as the wave knocks her off the rocks and into the sea. But instead of gnashing teeth, she is grabbed by two strong hands that pull her to safety. Stunned, she can barely utter a thank you as the rescuer warns her that the Shark King does not like visitors.

Kalei and her mysterious rescuer fall in love, marry, and soon a son is on the way. Shortly before the child is born, the husband goes swimming in the sea for hours When he returns, he announces, “I’m making a place for our son at the bottom of the pool.” At the bottom of the pool? Then, the night before the boy is born, he leaves completely, returning to the sea and revealing himself to be the Shark King.

Kalei is left to raise the boy, Nanaue (nah-NOW-way), on her own. But he is different from the other boys and villagers and must stay hidden. Eventually his secret is discovered when the villagers no longer catch any fish. Blaming Nanaue, the villagers chase him to the only place he can find safety - the pool - leaving Kalei alone.

The Shark King is one of Toon Books more difficult books, Level 3 on their Toon Into Reading scale for “Advanced Beginners.” Pronunciations like the ones in this review are included in the text. Readers will enjoy Nanaue’s antics that keep his mother busy, as any young boy's antics will. Readers will especially enjoy drawing conclusions about the mysterious Shark King and Nanaue. As with all graphic novels, the text is limited, leaving readers to use the images to understand the events. Should Nanaue wander farther and farther from home? Is Kalei truly left alone? Will Nanaue be safe in the pool?

The Shark King by R. Kikuo Johnson is another strong addition to the Toon Books library. But with Toon Books, that’s come to be expected with each new release.

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.

Silly Lilly by Agnes Rosenstiehl

Silly Lilly is back with her second Toon Book, Silly Lilly in What Will I Be Today?. This time Lilly takes readers through the days of the week as she tells all the things she can be each day. After all, “Every day is a new day to play!”

“So, on Monday Silly Lilly is a cook.” Lilly makes soup and comments on how her fingers change color as she adds beets, carrots, and spinach. As all those colors go from her fingers to her face to her white apron, Lilly realizes, “Now I can be an artist!”

On Tuesday Silly Lilly take a shot at being a city planner. She moves cement blocks and discovers bugs. The blocks become bug houses, and several houses together become a bug city.

On Wednesday she’s a singer, but her backup band (Teddy and a doll) are not very cooperative. The rest of the week is filled with athletics (as an acrobat), terror (as a vampire), and education (as a teacher).

What four- or five-year-old hasn’t imagined themselves as a cook or singer or vampire or teacher? As Lilly says right on the book’s cover, “I can be anything!” and readers will immediately agree.

Agnes Rosenstiehl introduced Silly Lilly to readers in Silly Lilly and the Four Seasons. In her first book Lilly shares activities she enjoys in all the seasons, starting with a trip to the park in spring. “There is so much to do at the park,” Lilly says. She likes to dance and jump … and nap. Her lovable Teddy, however, just sits. In summer Lilly discovers a shell at the beach. Fall includes apples of all colors, and winter includes snowballs and a messy game of snowball catch with Teddy. Then it’s spring again, and Lilly, probably back at the park, plays on the swing.

Both books feature only one or two frames per page. The frames in each story are numbered, and pages are numbered too. Lilly’s silly activities are the same as most emergent readers. If you reader fits nicely on a grown-up’s lap, he or she will relate to all of Lilly’s imaginary careers as well as playing in the park, the beach, and the snow. Silly Lilly, whether she’s enjoying the four seasons or the days of the week, is an excellent introduction to comics for emergent readers filled with simple text and engaging, age-appropriate activities.

Dave the Potter: Artist, Poet, Slave by Laban Carrick Hill

I know that the Caldecott awards are given for illustrations in picture books, but I was quickly caught up in Laban Carrick Hill’s story of Dave the Potter, an artist who created pots to hold grain, salted meat, and memories. A poet who, in simple two-line compositions, etched history and complex ideas into his creations. A slave with a skill possessed by very few people, let alone other slaves.

Bryan Collier’s illustrations certainly play a role in drawing readers in. Each picture is deep and rich, seemingly made of clay themselves, and take readers through the entire process of making a pot as a potter would in early to mid 1800's. Readers can see the pride and care Dave put into each pot and jar.

The book ends with three pages of details about Dave’s life and work mixed in with examples of his poems that are etched into the sides of his pots. There is also a full page with the author’s and illustrator’s notes explaining how they each learned about Dave the Potter and how the book came to be.

Dave the Potter shares a small piece of American history that few people know (at least I didn’t know about it) and middle and upper elementary teachers can use the book as a resource for Black History month, art and pottery, and even poetry.

Dark Emperor & Other Poems of the Night by Joyce Sidman

Dark Emperor & Other Poems of the Night begins with “Welcome to the Night,” an invitation in verse “To all of you who crawl and creep, who buzz and chirp and hoot and peep.”  It’s an evening summons to the animals that wake at dusk to go about their nighttime business, enjoying the cool, damp shadows.  

Poet Joyce Sidman then introduces readers to woodland snails, the primrose moth, raccoons, porcupines, the red eft, and even the Dark Emperor himself, the great horned owl.  Among other animals, there are also poems that mark the coming of the mushrooms and the silent strength of the oak tree.  The book closes with “Moon’s Lament,” where our lunar friend reflects on the night’s events, questions where everyone has gone, and mourns the dawning of a new day.

Dark Emperor could well stand on its own as a book of poems, but the addition of short paragraphs of nonfiction coupled with each poem pushes it to a new level.  Each poem appears on the left of the two page spread with a small illustration.  The right side features a larger illustration (all stunning, I might add, and giving the book an appearance traditionally associated with Caldecott winners rather than Newberys) and the descriptive text.

Readers not only are given a lyrical tour of the nighttime forest, but also learn more details about the poems’ subjects.  Did you know snails have teeth on their tongues?  Did you know that while trees produce food during the day, they use the hours of darkness to make repairs and take in extra water?  Did you know that baby porcupines are called porcupettes, that cricket sounds peak around midnight, or that one mushroom can produce two billion spores?  Hmmm?

Me neither.  Until now.  Just like Sidman’s previous books, Red Sings From Treetops and This Is Just to Say, Dark Emperor will come alive in a teacher’s classroom.  In one book teachers and students will hold in their hands lessons in rhyme and rhythm, imagery and word choice as well as facts about the creatures, both big and small, quiet and loud, of the night.

A Sick Day for Amos McGee by Philip C. Stead and Erin E. Stead

Amos McGee is a responsible man, rising early every morning.  He always wears a fresh-pressed uniform, eats his sensible breakfast, and takes the 6 a.m. bus to work at the zoo.  Amos McGee appears to be a man content with his life as well.  Even as the city has grown up around him, he continues to live in the same modest house, now sandwiched between high rise apartments.

Every day at work Amos McGee makes time for his friends.  He plays chess with the elephant, who is very thoughtful.  He races the tortoise, a tough competitor.  The penguin is shy, but Amos sits with him.  He always has a hanky for rhinoceros’s runny nose.  And at the end of the day he shares a storybook with owl, who doesn’t like the dark.

So what happens when the routine changes?  “One day Amos awoke with the sniffles, and the sneezes, and the chills.”  What happens if all the animals wait for their friend, Amos, but he never arrives?  They do what friends do, of course.

They go to him.  There are games and runny noses and quiet visits and contests and stories and even a pot of tea.  All on A Sick Day for Amos McGee.

The 2011 Caldecott Medal winner was illustrated by Erin E. Stead using woodblock printing and pencil.  Minimal color is used creating a look and mood to match the quiet, contemplative story.  The story, while featuring an older gentleman and zoo animals, could easily be used in classrooms to discuss friendship.  Despite their differences Amos McGee and the animals not only share time together as friends, but they do for one another as friends do.

Children Make Terrible Pets by Peter Brown

Ah, kids.  If ever anyone starts to think they know what they’re talking about when it comes to children, be sure to test that knowledge with real, live, actual children.  The little rascals will put you squarely back in your place.

I’ve been a fan of Peter Brown’s books for a while and have reviewed several here: Chowder, The Fabulous Bouncing Chowder, and The Curious Garden.  My first impression of Children Make Terrible Pets was cute and creative, unique pictures, nice switcheroo on a well known childhood theme, but not on the same level as the previously mentioned books.

Then I read the story of Lucy, the pink tutu-wearing bear who finds a critter in the woods, names him Squeaker, and takes him home to her mom begging to keep him as a pet aloud to a group of second and third graders.  Laughter.  Roars!  Pointing fingers and “Look at that!”  Groans and “Ooohhh noooo!” at the surprise ending - sort of like when the Pigeon sees a semi at the end of Don’t Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus.

A new Peter Brown book not on the same level as his other books?  Bah!  Foolish grown-up, trusting his own wisdom.

When Lucy finds “the cutest little critter” in the woods, she takes the young, rosy-cheeked boy home and begs to keep him as a pet. And as many parents do, her mom hesitantly agrees, but only on one condition: “Squeaker is YOUR responsibility.  I will not take care of him for you.”

Lucy played with Squeaker.  They ate together, napped together, did everything together.  However, Squeaker was impossible to potty train, destroyed his share of the furniture, and threw food at tea parties.  When Lucy thinks it can’t get any worse, it does.  Squeaker disappears.  

When Squeaker’s hiding place is discovered, Lucy also discovers that what she thinks is best for her - having an awesome pet - may not be the best for the pet.  Lucy is forced to make a tough decision based on what’s best for Squeaker.

So can I change my opinion?  Can I say that I loved the book from the start and knew it would be a hit with kids?  No?  Then I’ll just share my new-found appreciation of the book now that I know how much kids like it, acknowledge that first impressions ain’t always right, keep the beginning of this review honest, and give the book a well deserved recommendation.

The Red Pyramid by Rick Riordan

The Red Pyramid introduces readers to Carter and Sadie Kane.  Fourteen-year-old Carter is home-schooled by his professor father as they travel the world studying ancient Egypt.  His sister, twelve-year-old Sadie, lives in London with her maternal grandparents.  Carter and Sadie see each other two days a year, one visitation day in both winter and summer.  The book begins on Christmas Eve, winter visitation day, as Carter and his father arrive late to see Sadie.  Dr. Julius Kane has arranged a Christmas visit to the Egyptian Collection at the British Museum.

Readers, and the Kane siblings, quickly realize that there’s more to Julius Kane than an advanced Egyptian education when their visit to the museum ends with an explosion, magical appearances, a fiery man making threats, and their father trapped inside a sarcophagus.  Later they learn that their father’s actions at the museum have released five ancient gods, two of which have taken up temporary residence inside Carter and Sadie.

The next 500 pages are mostly a sprint from death-defying explosions to attacks by mythical creatures to trips to the land of the dead to a run-in with an evil Elvis jumpsuit.  (Really, no kidding.)  Along the way are numerous lessons on ancient Egypt.  There are pharaohs and gods, legends and rules, and magical methods transportation.  Carter knows bits and pieces from traveling with his father, but Sadie learns at the same pace as readers do - only as other characters explain the details to the Kane siblings.

I’m torn on which direction this review should go, so rather than pick a side (while relaxing on Christmas vacation, no less), I’m going to stay right here comfortably riding the fence, give both sides, and let readers decide.

I have three (and a half) concerns with the first book of Rick Riordan’s new Kane Chronicles series:

1. At 516 pages, it is unnecessarily long.
2. My lack of background knowledge on ancient Egypt had me trying to keep all the gods and legends and rules straight rather than focus on the main characters’ and plot’s development.  At least with The Lightning Thief I had some knowledge of Greek mythology to draw from.
3. It was easy to miss the changes in narrators between Carter and Sadie every couple chapters.
4. (only half a concern) It requires readers to suspend their disbelief more than the average fantasy novel, but that’s less of a problem with young readers who are generally more eager to do so than grown-ups.

Now, a number of my students have read The Red Pyramid, and based on my observations and conferences with them, here’s how my concerns have translated to young readers:

1. Doesn't matter.  More of a good thing.
2. Doesn't matter.  Most kids have little knowledge of Greek mythology, too.
3. Doesn't matter.  Kids apparently pay more attention to chapter headings.
4. Doesn't matter.  Suspension of disbelief.  Not a problem.

I’m pretty sure I would have recommended this book to students regardless of my personal feelings.  The Red Pyramid moves at an incredible pace with each chapter offering readers another hair-raising adventure and there’s magic and battles galore.  Rick Riordan knows the formula to keep readers reading.  High action, flying-fast pace, amazing escapes, brave battles, and a sequel to come.

Here There Be Monsters by HP Newquist

Before we begin, two quick thoughts:

1. At first glance, the cover of Here There Be Monsters led me to believe this was one of those fantastical nonfiction books that tell magical travelers how to avoid dragons, trolls, and ogres, complete with ornate maps and directions written in rhyming couplets.  It’s not.

2. Here There Be Monsters is just regular ole’ nonfiction, and generally, I dislike nonfiction.  That being said, I have been known - only on occasion, mind you - to read and enjoy regular ole’ nonfiction.  This is one of those occasions.

The full title is Here There Be Monsters: The Legendary Kraken and the Giant Squid.  The prologue begins by asking the reader, a school-aged youngster, to imagine being the late-night lookout on a ship.  You are suddenly drawn out of your drowsiness by a violent thump against the ship.  Then another.  You investigate and discover a giant eye peering at you from the depths, then arms and tentacles covered with suckers and claws groping the ship’s deck.  Eventually you and the crew fight off the monster and save the ship.

When you return to land, your story is dismissed as fantasy.  No one believes you.

Author HP Newquist goes on to explain that these legends, while many times exaggerated in the telling, were indeed based on the truth.  He details the names of scientists, their discoveries, and how each bit of information they learned invariably led to more questions.  One chapter outlines the events of 1870-1880, when there were dozens of sightings and numerous specimens that washed up on the world’s beaches.  Later he details similar events ninety years later during the 1960s.

Newquist does a great job of only giving readers the information scientists discovered as he recounts historical events.  It’s history on fast forward.  Instead of 500 years of scientific discoveries, readers get all 500 years in one book.  There’s anticipation as to what the next discovery will be without the decades of waiting.

As readers learn more about the giant and colossal squids (yes, they are two distinct animals), they are also presented with the fictional accounts that helped grow the legend of the kraken, novels like Moby Dick, Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, and Peter Benchley’s Beast as well as movies like Disney’s adaptations of 20,000 Leagues and Pirates of the Caribbean.

All of this - the history, scientists, specimens, legends, and stories - are integrated nicely for an informational yet enjoyable read.  Rather than reading to learn more, I found myself reading to find out what the next discovery would be.  Would the mystery of the kraken / giant squid be solved?  Turns out it’s a mystery still being solved today.

Bink & Gollie by Kate DiCamillo and Alison McGhee

Bink is a short, wild-haired, peanut butter loving, crazy sock wearing, inquisitive, downstairs neighbor who enjoys eating pancakes.

Gollie is a tall, sensible-haired, lemonade loving, black sock wearing, adventurous, upstairs neighbor who enjoys making pancakes.

They’re perfect for each other.

Bink and Gollie’s first book is just three short stories.  In Don’t You Need a New Pair of Socks, these two seemingly opposite friends go roller skating to Eccles’ Empire of Enchantment where Bink gets a new pair of crazy socks.  Gollie says, “The brightness of those socks pains me.  I beg you not to purchase them,” but Bink can’t wait to put them on.  When Gollie’s dislike of Bink’s new socks conflicts with Bink’s desire for Gollie’s pancakes, Gollie suggests, “Perhaps a compromise is in order, Bink.”  That’s what friends do.

In P.S. I’ll Be Back Soon, Gollie goes on an adventure to the Andes Mountains in Chile.  She posts a sign on her door announcing her absence.  Bink knocks anyway.  Gollie, halfway up a steep incline yet curiously still on the other side of her door, tells Bink she cannot be disturbed.  Bink returns repeatedly, ignoring the signs on Gollie’s door.  One reads, “To Whom it may concern: Further interruptions will NOT be tolerated.”  When Gollie finally achieves her mountain climbing goal, Bink is able to join her on the mountain peak.

In Give a Fish a Home, Bink and Gollie realize the depth of their friendship when a goldfish named Fred threatens to come between them.

I thoroughly enjoyed Bink & Gollie, and judging from the laughter, so did the students and classroom teacher who listened to my read aloud.  I was nervous that the second and third graders wouldn’t really get it.  Would they understand what Gollie means when she says, “I long for speed.”?  Would they know what Eccles’ Empire of Enchantment was?  Would they catch that Gollie’s mountaintop adventure was imaginary?  Would the students recognize Golllie’s feelings when she says, “Furthermore, that fish is incapable of being a marvelous companion.”?

But I realized it didn’t matter.  Some got it, some didn’t, but everyone enjoyed the story.  If kids don’t understand “I long for speed,” they still see that Bink and Gollie are roller skating on the next page.  Even if kids would sooner recognize Wal-Mart than Eccles’ Empire of Enchantment, Bink still purchases outrageous socks inside.

Adults, you’ll love Bink & Gollie the first time you read it.  And even if they don’t understand everything the same way you do, kids will enjoy Kate DiCamillo and Alison McGhee's team effort just as well.

Mockingjay by Suzanne Collins

For as much as I liked The Hunger Games and Catching Fire, I’m unsure if I can say the same about Mockingjay.  Instead of immediately feeling like I’ve read an instant classic, more than anything it leaves me wondering.  I wonder if I liked it.  I wonder if there’s too much violence, hate, revenge, and death.  I wonder if there’s too little love, trust, and forgiveness.

I wonder if I can recommend it.

But wait, I get ahead of myself.

In the first two books, Katniss has survived the Hunger Games and the uprisings in districts around the country that threaten the Capitol of Panem, uprisings touched off partly due to her actions.  To be sure, tensions have been high without Katniss, but now she has become “the Mockingjay,” a symbol of the rebellion that the citizens of Panem can rally around.

The Hunger Games is a book about survival.  Catching Fire is also about survival but with the added undercurrent of political unrest.  Mockingjay is all about that unrest.  Uprisings are occurring in all twelve districts, and war is being fought outright.  The battle for the country between the rebellion, led by survivors in District 13, and the Capitol has begun.  It is ruthless, violent, and matches what readers should expect in the world imagined by author Suzanne Collins.

It’s hard reviewing the third book of a trilogy without revealing key events in the other two, so I won't summarize much at all.  I will say that the action scenes are as intense as ever and vividly described.  Even more than in the other books, Katniss - and readers - emotionally deal with questions of what is right, who to trust, and how to act.

Yes, I do recommend Mockingjay, though not as enthusiastically as the other books in the trilogy.  My concern is that some young readers who successfully read the first two may be surprised by Mockingjay’s tension, death, violence and war.

But that’s so difficult to say!  How could readers (how could I?) not expect a war in Panem to be exactly what Collins describes?  If we accept a world where children are sent off to battle to the death at the command of the Capitol, we must accept - and expect - the way the war plays out.  I’m honestly not sure if I’m more bothered by the events of the novel or that I somehow didn’t expect it.  Not that I imagined everything to end happily ever after, but I admit I was naively ill-prepared for the grave events of the trilogy’s conclusion.

The conclusion no doubt wraps up everything in need of wrapping from the first two novels.  Every reader wonders what happens next when finishing a book, of course, but authors can’t continue a story forever.  Readers need to draw their own optimistic or pessimistic conclusions as they see fit.

In this case I’m going with optimistic.

Countdown by Deborah Wiles

It is Friday, October 19, 1962.  Eleven-year-old Franny wonders why her teacher skips her during read aloud time.  She wonders why Jimmy, who picks his nose at recess, gets selected to read instead of her.  She wonders which friends to join at recess after forgetting her latest Nancy Drew.

Then the air-raid siren goes off.  Her wonderings become one certainty: We are all about to die.

Countdown takes place over the next twelve days, during the Cuban Missile Crisis.  Author Deborah Wiles does a great job of showing the fear that permeated society at the time.  There’s news broadcasts and President Kennedy’s address to the nation and duck and cover drills.  The fear is heightened for Franny – and readers – because of her family’s military connections.

Along with societal fears, there are normal coming-of-age issues as well.  Why does her younger brother get her father’s attention and a promise of playing ball in the yard?  Why is her sister allowed to close her bedroom door?  Why is her best friend acting that way?  And what about that new/old boy across the street?

Countdown is billed as a “documentary novel” with nonfiction interspersed within the narrative.  Many of the nonfiction bits relate directly to the story, items like a fallout shelter handbook, news quotes, Bert the Turtle, mushroom clouds, and photos of Fidel Castro, Presidents Kennedy and Truman, and even Nancy Drew.  But some seem present only in an attempt to flesh out the time period.  There are pictures of James Bond, Cassius Clay, Sandy Koufax, and Lucy and Ricky.

I found Countdown fascinating, but I’m hesitant about how the documentary novel idea will translate to younger readers.  If I’m one of today’s 11-year-olds, I’m looking at the picture of Peter, Paul, and Mary with the words “what a wonderful world this would be” and thinking, who’re these guys?  I’d have no clue of the significance of Richard Nixon saying, “You won’t have Nixon to kick around any more” in 1963.  I’d be wondering why there’s a picture of Rocky and Bullwinkle (who?) with a news item about Kennedy and Khrushchev establishing a direct telecommunications line between Washington and Moscow.

Actually, I’m wondering about that one as it is.

It’s obvious that Deborah Wiles has put incredible amounts of time into Countdown, the first of three companion novels, and there are plenty of signs of what’s to come.  Many of the nonfiction parts reference the Civil Rights movement, a possible indication of how Franny’s older sister plans to make the world a better place.  I am amazed at the detail, the wide range of cultural references, and the novel’s uniqueness.  I recommend it, hesitantly, believing that grown-up readers of children’s literature will like it more than the children.

Where the Mountain Meets the Moon by Grace Lin

Here’s the deal: When a book gives valuable clues and important details immediately in the first few chapters and layers numerous subplots upon one another and then in the end, the plot and all the subplots get tied tightly together and all those clues and details in the opening chapters appear significantly more important than originally believed… Well, like I said, here’s the deal: That drives me nuts. Really. Completely and utterly crazy. Because after finishing the book, and after, like, every other chapter in the closing pages, I think, “Why didn’t I see that coming?!?”

And I absolutely love it.

Where the Mountain Meets the Moon is one of those books. At first it seems a simple story. Minli lives with her parents in a small, poor village beside the Jade River at the foot of Fruitless Mountain. In order to seek a way to bring fortune to her family and village, Minli leaves. She wants to find Never-Ending Mountain and ask its resident, the Old Man of the Moon, how she can change her family’s fortune. Basically, that’s the story.

Added throughout the novel are stories told by Minli’s father, fellow travelers, characters she meets on the way, and Minli herself. But they’re not just stories added to color the seemingly simple novel. The first story, The Story of Fruitless Mountain, begins on page four, and attentive readers will recall it at the book’s conclusion.

There’s also plenty of action. Secret entrances through hidden gates, dangerous encounters and daring escapes, gifts from kings and statues that come alive, dragons, talking fish, overprotective but easily-fooled monkeys … and Minli’s journey is filled with them.

Author Grace Lin has taken the folktales and fairy-tales from her Chinese heritage and woven them into this book. The author’s note describes how, while she originally dismissed her Asian heritage, she ultimately embraced the stories and began to invent storylines, add details, and fit them together into what finally became Where the Mountain Meets the Moon. She closes the author’s note with “I hope there is magic in it for you as well.”

There is.

The Lion and the Mouse by Jerry Pinkney

I generally don’t follow all the pre-Caldecott buzz, but apparently there has never been less suspense than in January of 2010, when everyone and their mother’s librarian expected Jerry Pinkney to take home the medal for The Lion and the Mouse. The Caldecott Medal is awarded for a book’s illustrations. In fact, in the official Caldecott Terms and Criteria, the word author only appears once. Artist appears eight times.

And from first glance onward, it is easily apparent that Jerry Pinkney is an artist by anyone’s definition.

Readers will be able to move through the book quickly, but The Lion and the Mouse begs for an immediate reread. Right from the title page, where the mouse finds himself in paw prints larger than he is, readers will study the remarkable illustrations that reveal more details with each look.

Nearly wordless, the pictures are left to tell the story. Most readers will be familiar with the story already, and my guess is that children who encounter the story for the first time via this book will have an adult leading them through it.

But I wonder if a familiarity with the story is necessary for kids to understand the book independently. For example, kids will see the mouse climb on the lion and see that the lion has captured the Mouse, but why is the lion so mad, and why does he suddenly let the mouse go? More importantly, is it even necessary to know the mouse woke the lion up from a nap? Is the conversation about how someone so small could never help someone so big needed? Do readers need to hear the mouse plead his case?

Maybe the fact that the lion lets the mouse go is reason enough for the Mouse to free the Lion from the hunter’s trap. Maybe a simplified story – lion frees mouse, mouse repays debt – works just as well as the one with a moral about friendship.

Red Sings from Treetops by Joyce Sidman

I am a big fan of This Is Just to Say: Poems of Apology and Forgiveness, the first collaboration between author Joyce Sidman and Pamela Zagarenski, so I was eager to get read Red Sings From Treetops: A Year in Poems, their latest and 2010 Caldecott Honor book. Both books have similar illustrations – part painting and part collage – and I willingly admit, it’s personally a bit frustrating that my favorite of the two isn’t the one with the medal on the cover.

Adding to the illustrations in Red Sings from Treetops are the changes in text. The book starts in spring and progresses through the seasons highlighting the colors of each. Each color word is bold and printed in its own color. Some are highlighted to set them off from backgrounds of the same color.

Spring features red singing from treetops, the white of hail and lightning, and green everywhere. The yellow of the summer sun melt everything and numerous variations of blue describe water. Black describes summer nights. Brown takes over for tired green in fall when orange also arrives. Black and white take center stage in winter, but speckles of red, blue, and even green all make appearances to those who look hard enough. Teachers could certainly use Red Sings from Treetops when studying the seasons, and art teachers could have a field day looking for colors in all parts of life.

I have a healthy respect for poetry even if it isn't a personal favorite, but recommending Red Sings from Treetops is easy despite my literary preferences. The illustrations are deserving, and the text is a colorful walk through the year, especially for people who live in areas where all four seasons firmly stake claim to their own portion of the year.

Chicken Dance by Tammi Sauer

Marge and Lola are chickens with dreams. 1. Enter the barnyard talent show. 2. Win. 3. Accept the grand prize tickets to see Elvis Poultry in concert.

The ducks are realists. Talented realists. According to them, facts is facts. “Ducks win every year. All chickens can do is bawk, flap, and shake.”

Undaunted, Marge and Lola test their talents. Bowling. Juggling. Tightrope walking. Out. Out. Out. They even tried flying and swimming. Also out. Their experiments last all day, right up to the start of the talent show. Out of options, Marge and Lola decide, simply, to wing it.

The goats ate a tractor. The pigs made a pyramid. The cows jumped over the moon. Then the ducks grabbed their boards and surfed their way to the top of the leader board, scoring a 9 out of 10. With only Marge and Lola left, they know they have a chance. They do what chickens do best, and it's exactly what the ducks teased them about. They bawked. They flapped. They shook. They scored a … well, I can’t give that away, can I?

I will say there are a range of emotions for the characters involved. There’s disappointment and excitement. Sadness and surprise. And when the King himself, Elvis Poultry, appears from backstage, his reaction to Marge and Lola’s performance has everybody all shook up.

Tammi Sauer gives readers an enjoyable story with enough twists and turns to keep young readers surprised at the outcome. What at first appears to be a story where the bullies – those rotten ducks – get what’s coming to them turns into a story about playing to your strengths and the rewards that can come from individuality. Dan Santat’s illustrations are as funny as chickens bowling or juggling can be. Young readers will especially enjoy Marge and Lola’s talent show moves and will be eager to imitate them.

UPDATE: Thanks to Tammi Sauer's comment below, I now know there is a website dedicated to "The King," Elvis Poultry. Check it out for all sorts of fun, including dance lessons!