Scars and the Poking Out of Eyes

Image from the GeekDad blog
at Wired.com. This is not Kyle.

My latest newspaper column applies to half the population. Well honestly, I guess it applies to everyone since half the population gets themselves into these situations and the other half has to deal with it. Thanks for stopping by the site, and I hope you enjoy the article.

One morning recently a first grader approached me, proud as a peacock and strutting his new feathers. Stitches, right on the bridge of his nose, there for all the world - and his own crossed eyes - to see.

Seems Kyle and his siblings were playing an age old game, nameless to the best of my knowledge, that involves throwing stuff up in the air and watching it fall. His sister threw a baseball bat-sized stick in the air, and they all watched it hit a home run on the downswing, right between Kyle’s eyes. A first-ever, first-grader, four-bagger.

Kyle’s fine. Ask him, he’ll tell you. And it’s cool, he’ll say, cause the nurse told him chicks dig scars.

But just imagine. One inch right or left and suddenly he’s Captain Kyle, Curse of the Classroom, Scourge of Scholars, and he’s being fitted for an eye patch.

Quick. Name a boy, old or young, with a noticeable scar and a story to match Kyle’s. Easy, right?

Now name a boy or a man who’s actually lost an eye.

Okay, I know these men are out there. Accidents do happen. But I’ve never met a one-eyed man who said, “Yeh see this here eye? Do yeh? Lost it in ‘77, barely off me mother’s milk, I was. All I’ll say is this: the next time someone tells yeh Tiddlywinks ain’t dangerous, don’t yeh dare believe ‘em.”

Ralphie’s mother in A Christmas Story wasn’t the only mom to say, “You’ll shoot your eye out!” (Or “poke your eye out” or “put your eye out.” Same thing.) But truth be told, none of us ever did.

Remember Chicago Bears quarterback Jim McMahon? Remember the ‘85 Bears, the Super Bowl Shuffle, the attitude? Remember the sunglasses? Turns out the sunglasses weren’t just his attitude on display. McMahon’s right eye was extremely sensitive to light.

See, when he was six he tried to undo a knot in a toy gun holster he was wearing. With a fork. Get that image clear in your mind’s eye and you don’t need to hear the rest of the story to know what happened.

The fork slipped, entered his eye, and severed the retina.

Even boys who actually do poke themselves in the eye can’t manage to poke the eye out. It’s like half the population is creative (or stupid) enough to get themselves into these eye-popping situations yet not talented enough to close the deal.

Scars are to boys like words are to the blank page. Neither starts out marked, but both are incomplete without the unique stories etched upon them by their owners.

When I was kid I stood on a chair to reach something on the top shelf of a closet. Instead of removing the items weighing it down, I tugged and pulled. My hands slipped and back I went until my head hit the corner of the coffee table. Blood? Yep. Scar? You bet. Dumb?

Obviously.

And good thing. Had I thought about what was happening, I may have turned to see where my head was headed.

Probably would have lost an eye.

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.

Patrick in a Teddy Bear's Picnic and Other Stories by Geoffrey Hayes

Geoffrey Hayes, 2010 Geisel Award winner for Benny and Penny in the Big No-No!, is back with a new Toon Book featuring Patrick, a new character that beginning readers will love. But while the book and the characters might be new, the enjoyment that Hayes and Toon Books brings to young readers is exactly the same.

The first story, A Teddy Bear’s Picnic, features Patrick enjoying a picnic in the park and his mother trying to keep up with him. Birds get chased, balloons get popped, boats get sailed, and bugs get away.  Even rain can’t spoil Patrick’s fun. He finds puddles and wet clothes, and Ma finds a way to make their picnic happen despite the rain.

In the second story, Patrick and Big Bear, Patrick meets the local bully who popped his red balloon on the picnic. Patrick is sent to the store for cookies, but Big Bear threatens to take away his dollar. Thanks to some simple advice from Ma, however, Patrick stands up to Big Bear. In the end when Ma asks, “So, did you run into Big Bear?” Patrick responds, “No! He ran into ME!”

After both of Patrick’s adventures, Ma says he needs a nap. Picnics and cookie-runs can wear a boy out!  These two nap stories, each only a page or two long, express the feelings of every child still stuck with nap time. Nap! Why?

Young readers will need to use all their story reading skills to find success. While the text is not overly difficult (Level 2 or Grades 1-2 according to Toon Books’ three-leveled scale for their books), Patrick’s actions move quickly, forcing readers to frequently make inferences between frames. Readers need to look closely within each frame as well. Patrick’s personality is on display, not in what he says, but in his facial expressions, his puddle jumps, and his speedy movements.

The book also offers parents and teachers advice on reading comics with kids. Several tips are included like using a finger to follow the action, how to make the story come alive with sound effects and role sharing, asking questions, and watching the action in the panels.

But in the end it’s not advice for grown-ups or Toon Books’ leveled system or their numerous online resources that make Patrick in A Teddy Bear’s Picnic a great addition for beginning readers. It’s the engaging characters and fun stories that will bring readers back for reread after reread.

Travel Lessons for Kids

My new column appeared in the newspaper this past Monday, but for some reason it failed to appear on the newspaper's website.  So here it is.  For those of you who recently enjoyed, are currently enjoying, or will soon enjoy Spring Break, here are a few travel lessons.  Use them as a useful reminder or as preparation for an upcoming trip.  Either way, thanks for reading.

For my children (eager travelers both) and for junior journeyers everywhere, here is a quick review of lessons learned during spring break.

Many people travel. Most are not on vacation. Businessmen, retirees, and other parents may not appreciate your physical and/or vocal efforts to prevent siblings from reaching the next suitcase out of the tunnel at baggage claim before you.

Parents occasionally face unexpected hassles on vacation, at the rental car counter for instance. After selecting the rental car recommended online for your traveling party, plus luggage, the agent might ask your parents, “Is it just the two of you?” and “How many bags do you have?” As your parents try to decide if they are being taken for a ride before actually renting the vehicle, please refrain from using the suitcases in an improvised demolition derby. This will not aid their decision.

Once you are properly loaded into the recently upgraded rental, loud music, while enjoyable, does not help parents navigate unfamiliar highways. This is especially true on interstate highways five lanes wide.

When checking into a hotel, parents must answer certain questions immediately. “Where’s the pool?” is not one of these questions.

Yes, everyone needs to use the restroom, even when traveling. And yes, most gas stations have restrooms. But no, we’re not stopping at that one even if your teeth are singing “Anchors Aweigh.”

Sticker price is a myth. This is particularly true when you are a tourist. Here are some fees frequently added to tourists’ bills: state sales tax, local sales tax, excise tax, segment fee, facility charge, security fee, bed tax, occupancy tax, room tax, service fee, and gratuity. This is the reason why Mom needed to loan you $18.63 even though you had saved exactly enough money.

And I’m sorry, but I only know what three of those fees are.

Even though Grandpa slipped you some cash and told you to get yourself something nice, stopping at the video game resale shop does not count as a souvenir nor is it what Papa intended.

Just because a restaurant claims to have the “Best Fish in Florida” or “Award-Winning Pie” doesn’t necessarily make it so, nor does it make the restaurant any cleaner in your mother’s eyes.

Repacking for home is not as simple as “stuffin’ it in” as you say. It takes a cooperative and concerted effort by both parents to fit everything the family initially brought plus the extras picked up along the way. Unless you want your beach sand and seashells to stay behind, keep quiet, keep out of way, and turn down the hotel TV.

Meals on travel days do not fit traditional meal schedules. If food is not available when you are hungry, whining, crying, and/or blaming your parents won’t make it magically appear. At the same time, when food is available, eat. Saying you aren’t hungry or dismissing a cheeseburger because it’s not “breakfast food” are not legitimate reasons to fast.

Finally, yes, everybody’s ears do that on a plane, but don’t ask repeatedly, “Hello? Hello? Hello?” to test your hearing. People seated nearby can still hear you.

And I hope you’re hearing me.

Turtle in Paradise by Jennifer L. Holm

Turtle in Paradise, a 2011 Newbery Honor book by Jennifer Holm, takes readers to Key West, Florida in 1935.  Main character Turtle had lived with her mother, a housekeeper, until her mother got a job working for Mrs. Budnick, and Mrs. Budnick can’t abide by noise - and children are noisy.

So Turtle is sent to live in Key West with her Aunt Minerva, her mother’s sister, and her sons Beans, Kermit, and the perpetually pantsless Buddy.  Turtle arrives before the letter announcing her arrival, causing stress for Aunt Minnie and an education for Turtle, thanks to Aunt Minnie’s words about her sister.  “This is just like Sadiebelle.  She never thinks.  As if I don’t have enough already with three kids and a husband who’s never home.”

Turtle is introduced to the Diaper Gang - that’s Kermit, Beans, and his buddy Pork Chop - and eventually earns her way into the local crowd.  She tricks the ice cream man into a free cone (“The nickel was in the bottom of the can, mister.”), befriends Nana Philly (“She’s meaner than a scorpion!” Buddy says.), and finds a map that leads her and the whole gang on an adventure.

I’ve been to Key West a couple of times, and I enjoy everything that makes it unique, especially its history, so Turtle in Paradise already had a foot in the door of my good graces when I began reading.  But meeting Turtle and her family, getting to know life on the island during the depression, and seeing how even Turtles with extremely hard outer shells can eventually show their soft sides once in a while was what won me over in the end. Turtle in Paradise was wonderful - as warm as Key West at the end of March.

I enjoyed getting to know Turtle and her conch cousins, but the more I read, the more I pictured all the places mentioned in the book that are still there today.  I’ve been to Sloppy Joe’s, where Slow Poke’s former first mate got bit by a shark - a shark named Margaret.  I’ve walked Duval Street where crazy old Mr. Alvarez once ran naked.  I’ve been to the beach at the end of Duval Street where kids can make a cut-up for lunch.

But I hadn’t been to Curry Lane or Francis Street or Pepe’s, where a writer by the name of Papa used to hang out.  Which meant it was time for a literature-guided tour of Key West.  Here’s what I found:

Curry Lane, where the whole Curry clan lived. It's easy to see why Mr. Edgit and Turtle couldn't find it. I drove right past it twice.

This is one of the houses on Curry Lane.

Another house on Curry Lane.

Another house on Curry Lane. Just to be clear, the Diaper Gang traveled with a wagon, not a golf cart.

The corner of Curry Lane and Frances Street where Turtle tricked Jimmy the ice cream man into free ice cream with the old nickel-in-the-bottom-of-the-cup trick.

The Diaper Gang cools off on a small beach at the end of Duval Street.  At one end of  Duval - or close by anyway - is Mallory Square where we found something other than a small beach.

Although we didn't get here, there is a beach at the other end of Duval Street. (Picture from here.)

Pepe's has been a restaurant in Key West for a very long time. Now located on Caroline Street, it used to be on Duval Street and was frequented by Slow Poke and a writer who went by the nickname Papa.

Durty Harry's is the location of the original Sloppy Joe's, where Slow Poke's former first mate was bitten by a shark - a shark named Margaret.

The current Sloppy Joe's is just down the block from the original. It appears to have outgrown its original space.

And finally, here's what I'd imagine a Twenty-first Century Beans would look like if the Diaper Gang didn't have any babies. Or Kermit when we was told to get inside and take a nap. Or Buddy knowing he lost his pants again - except, of course, that this young lad has his pants. Thankfully.

Reading Recovery and Comprehensive Literacy K-8 Conference - Spring 2011

Thank you to everyone who came to my sessions in Little Rock! You were an encouraging bunch and engaged in the all the sessions. It was a great time and my pleasure to share books and reading ideas for your classrooms.

I'd love to hear from you. Please take a moment and send me an email or leave a comment with feedback about the sessions. What was good? What did you enjoy? What would you have liked more of? All your thoughts are welcome, and it helps me make the sessions better in the future.

Again, thanks everyone. Hopefully we'll see you again at the next conference!

What's Embarrassing Anyway?

New column in the local newspaper today. I was facing a looming deadline when struck with the idea of asking the kids for their help. Um, well, yeah. The column got done, but I made a curious discovery. Or at least I pondered something probably already known.

Anyways, continue reading below or check the newspaper or the newspaper's printable version.

This is a transcript of an actual, recently completed conversation:

Me: Kiddos? I have an article to write. Do you want to help me?

Daughter: Why?

Me: I need ideas.

Daughter: Snakes!

Me: Snakes?

Daughter: I don’t know. That’s what’s on TV right now.

Me: Wha...?

Daughter: Zac gets bit on the butt.

Me, after muting the offending television: Seriously! Quit looking at TV for a second why don’t you?

Son: Hey, I was watching that! What’re you doing?

Me: I’m talking to you.

Son: You are? About what?

Me: My newspaper column. Weren’t you listening?

Son: Um, TV?

Daughter: Texting. You could make a texting article.

Me: I don’t think I could get enough words with texting.

Daughter: Why? LOL. BRB. [giggles]

Me: I don’t think I know what all the things mean.

Daughter, incredulous: Laugh out loud? Be right back?

Me: Yeah, I know THOSE two, but...

Daughter: ASAP? C’mon, Daddio! [Seriously. She called me Daddio.]

Son: [no response]

At this point my writer’s block was becoming an entire neighborhood of emptiness, and I figured kids should be able to provide content for a parenting column. I decided it was time to pull out the big guns. Coercion.

Me: Eh-hem, here’s the deal. I have taken pictures of the floors in your bedrooms. I will describe them in great detail if you don’t help me write this article.

Daughter: What do you mean, describe them? You took a picture of our bedroom floors?

Me: I took two. 

Son: [no response]

Daughter: What are going to do with them?

Me: Describe them.

Daughter: Okay. [shrugs]

Me: Okay?

Daughter: Just not the underwear.

Me: All right. I won’t mention the underwear.

Son: [no response]

And that was it. My last, best grasp at getting help, voluntarily or involuntarily, had disappeared like yesterday’s homework under a pile of fingernail products, torn art projects, and laundry. But how can the threat of public embarrassment bring absolutely zero results?

This is a room meant for human occupancy, yet items pointy, slimy, and sticky threaten every bare-footed step. Personal effects purchased to provide the necessities of life - clothing, comfort, nourishment - and once neatly organized by loving hands, now lay discarded. Clothing, some torn and some stained and all dirty, is piled randomly. Stuffed animals, half-whiskered and half-clothed, are planted face down. Remnants of snacks past now permanently meld spoons to bowls.

And when I threaten to publicly portray the slovenly practices of my children, all I get is “Okay.”? Is a ruinous room not embarrassing? Is the disastrous not distressing?

I took a writing break after that last paragraph when, coincidentally, my wife exited the boy’s bedroom. “I swear stuff just multiplies in there. It wasn’t that long ago we cleaned under his bed the last time.” Upon looking in the boy’s room I found him lying on the floor, calmly assembling some new creation, surrounded by - and oblivious to - the mysteriously multiplying “stuff.”

That’s when I realized that messy bedrooms don’t embarrass kids any more than right turns embarrass drivers. It’s just part of being a kid. And it’s why kids' bedrooms have doors. Doors parents can keep closed.

One Crazy Summer by Rita Williams-Garcia

I’ve confessed this before, but I’ll say it again. I didn’t want to read One Crazy Summer. Maybe it was the mother who abandons her children. Maybe it was set in an era of history which never held much interest for me. Maybe I was just looking for another book with laughs or adventure.

But now that I’ve read the book, and the cover has more medals (four) than main characters (three), I’m ready to state the truth. I should have read it long before I felt obligated to do so by the 2011 Newbery committee.

Delphine, Vonetta, and Fern are sisters who live in Brooklyn with their father and grandmother. One Crazy Summer opens with the five of them in John F. Kennedy airport, the three children preparing to fly to Oakland, California for a four-week stay with the mother who abandoned them when Delphine was four, Vonetta was barely walking, and Fern not yet taking a bottle. Seven years ago.

Their mother, Cecile, is there to pick them up when they arrive, but things are suspicious from the start. Not bothering to help with their bags, Cecile greets her daughters with “Come on,” turns, and begins walking, the gap between mother and daughters growing steadily. At the airport exit Cecile realizes the girls have fallen behind. He second sentence to her daughters? “Y’all have to move if you’re going to be with me.”

That first night at Cecile’s house includes directions to their bedroom, a demand to stay out of the kitchen, dinner from a Chinese take-out, and a visit from three strangers in black t-shirts and jackets with black berets over their Afros, speaking phrases like “Seize the time” and “For the people” and “The time is now” and words ending in tion, ism, and actic.

The next morning Cecile says, “If you girls want breakfast, go’n down to the People’s Center.” At the People’s Center Delphine, Vonetta, and Fern get not only breakfast, but a personal introduction to the Black Panthers. The sisters quickly become part of summer programs at the People’s Center. Yes, there is poster making, lessons about revolution and revolutionaries, and politics, but there’s also free meals and helping the community. The People’s Center provides the mothering that Cecile won’t - and Delphine can’t - provide.

While this story offers readers like me a look into the world of the Black Panthers in the late 1960’s, at it’s core One Crazy Summer is about Delphine and the conflict between her eagerness to mature and her need to be a child. The more I read, the more I liked all three sisters, and the more I longed for them to finally receive what they came all they way to Oakland to get.

And it’s this emotional investment that makes the conclusion (and Rita Williams-Garcia's entire book) extremely satisfying.

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.

Ling & Ting: Not Exactly the Same! by Grace Lin

Grace Lin follows up her 2010 Newbery Honor for Where the Mountains Meet the Moon with a 2011 Geisel Honor for Ling & Ting: Not Exactly the Same, showing she can write excellent books for beginning readers as well as novels for the older ones.

Ling and Ting face the same problem as many identical twins. Everyone thinks they are exactly the same, but they always insist, “We are not exactly the same.” Even the barber says so when they go for their haircuts. But Ling sits still for her haircut while Ting fidgets. When hair falls on her nose …

“AHH-CHOOO!” goes Ting. SNIP go the scissors.

If people thought they looked the same before their haircuts, they’ll make no mistake now that Ting has a chunk missing. Right in the front.

The book is divided into six short stories about Ling and Ting, and after the first one, Ting is always missing that chunk of hair. Next, Ling attempts a card trick. Then the sisters make their own dumplings, proving again that they are not exactly the same when one sister makes dump-Lings, while the other makes dump-Tings. Not even their chopstick ability is the same.

It’s when Ting goes to the library that the fun really starts. Ting’s fairy tale book reminds her of something important: her card from Ling’s card trick back in the second story. The final story, entitled “Mixed Up,” then brings in parts of all the previous stories, as Ting makes up a story about two twin girls. Ling is sure she knows this story, and readers will be too, but Ting’s version will have readers laughing right up to the end.

Beginning readers - and the grown-ups who read with them - will love Ling and Ting. Fans of Bink and Gollie, Cowgirl Kate and Cocoa, and Fly Guy will add Ling and Ting to their pile of favorites, and they’ll be watching for more Ling and Ting books in the future. (And so will I.)

When You Are Watching Your Children, Others Are Watching You

mowillemsdoodles.blogspot.com

My latest newspaper column is out today, and it's all about the people who go out in public without children. Some of these folks have grown children. Others have no children. Some are just lucky enough to be able to drop off their children at Grandma's house while they head to the supermarket. And since they don't have any children under their direct and immediate jurisdiction, they take the opportunity to keep an eye on your children.

Here's the original article at the newspaper's site. Here's the printable version.

When parents take their children out in public, their eyes are on their children.  Parents must always be ready to replace the taken, repair the broken, repeat the spoken, and, well, let’s face it.  Kids can be bulls and the world their china shop.

On those infrequent occasions when a parent’s eyes rise above 36 inches to look at their surroundings, they’ll notice that theirs are not the only eyes on the children.  The world is watching. Watching, and holding tightly to their Blue Willow.

Yes, the world is full of watchers, but their methods of observation are as varied as fish in the sea.  Watch the watchers.  Eventually you’ll see them all.

The Smiler - Always has a pleasant smile, no matter the situation. Will describe a three-year-old who’s pulling heads off Barbie dolls as “energetic.” 

The Scowler - Brow always furrowed; sees no good in children’s actions.  Also generally suspicious.  Will think a well-behaved child is “looking for something.”

The Nodder - Head bobs north and south in understanding.  Believes children will be children and accepts it.

The Shaker - Head shakes east and west in frustration.  Believes children should be miniature adults.

The Nostalgic - Eyes misty, the nostalgic reminisces about her own children, often with one or both hands over her heart. 

The Dreamer - Eyes misty, the dreamer’s gaze flutters between your children and her spouse, communicating a “someday, honey” message.

The Forgiver - Known to say, “That’s okay,” sometimes followed with “sweety” or “sweetheart.”.  A child may commandeer a grocery cart and promptly clip an unsuspecting shopper’s ankles, but the forgiver will wince, whisper “That’s okay,” and limp off to the produce section.

The Forgetter - Does not remember A. being a child, B. having a child, or C. the scientific fact that all life begins before adulthood.  Is known to make comments about animals in the wild “eating their young.”

The Peeker - Wants to watch the children, but doesn’t want you to know. Often found behind menus, newspapers, and church bulletins.

The Starer - Will stop all other activities to gawk at the perceived spectacle your child creates.

The Helpful - Will hold a door, carry a bag, and pick up yogurt containers tossed on the floor by toddlers.  Often a smiler.

The Helpless - Wants to help but is unable. This person often has his own children and can’t risk being distracted.

The Help Resistant - Simply cannot believe a child would act like, well, a child.  Receives satisfaction from letting parent, child, and surrounding citizens suffer.  Nose often pointed upward.

The Empathetic - Will cringe at certain behaviors shown by children, not because of the behavior, but because of knowing the Scowlers and Shakers nearby won’t be happy.

The Rocker - Attempts to calm another person’s crying child by gently rocking herself, sans child.

So watch away, you Smilers and Scowlers, Peekers and Starers.  Enjoy the show because one day you’ll have children or grandchildren out in public, and wouldn’t you know it?  They’ll behave like children.

And we’ll be watching.

We Are in a Book! by Mo Willems

Elephant and Piggie have shared the spotlight in twelve books prior to the release of We Are in a Book! (and more to come). Twelve stories featuring birds on heads and party invitations, dancing and throwing and sneezing and flying, and new toys, new friends, and new surprises. Now finally, in lucky book number thirteen, Gerald and Piggie realize that the spotlight is on them.

Piggie: Someone is looking at us.

Gerald: Who is looking at us? A monster?

Piggie: No. It is … a reader! A reader is reading us!

Piggie explains how books and speech bubbles and words work, and the two friends revel in the incomparable coolness of being in a book. Then Piggie wants to have a little fun with the reader - and with Gerald. Piggie decides that the ultimate in hilarity would be to make the reader say a word.  That word?

“Banana.”

See? You’re giggling already. Piggie was right. But when Gerald learns that books have endings, he panics. He doesn’t want the book to end. Thankfully, Piggie has the perfect solution, a solution satisfying to Gerald, Piggie, and readers. One that causes Piggie to say:

Once again Mo Willems has created a laugh-out-loud funny book featuring two beloved characters. (I hope they’re tight with Pigeon, or he might be getting jealous.) Young readers will enjoy seeing how characters react - and interact - with the person holding the book.

If Elephant and Piggie books have been a hit in your home or classroom, We Are in a Book! will be equally welcomed and eagerly read by all their fans. If Elephant and Piggie books have NOT been a hit in your home or classroom, what are you waiting for? That can only mean you don’t have them yet!

Heart of a Samurai by Margi Preus

At the beginning of Heart of a Samurai, in 1841, Manjiro is a fourteen-year-old fisherman.  Over the next twelve years of his life he endures a shipwreck, is rescued by American whalers, spends years at sea, and explores both coasts of North America.  At the end of the book he is a man in his mid-twenties, still motivated by his overwhelming desire to return to Japan.

The book is divided into five parts.  After being shipwrecked on a deserted island (part one), Manjiro and his fellow fishermen are rescued by barbarians - westerners, as seen by the Japanese.  Part two tells how Captain William Whitfield of the whaling ship John Howland quickly recognizes Manjiro’s eagerness to learn.  Manjiro learns English, the economic importance of whales, prejudice, and the Captain’s inability to take him back to Japan.  Now calling him John Mung, Whitfield offers to take Manjiro home with him to New Bedford, Connecticut.

Part three details Manjiro’s time in New Bedford learning farm life, going to school, trying to understand the very different American way of life, and continued prejudice.  Part four tells of another whaling trip and Manjiro’s participation in the California gold rush in 1849.  Finally, part five is about Manjiro’s ultimate quest to return home.

That’s a lot of ground (and water) to cover in just under 300 pages.  Just like the novel’s main character, Heart of a Samurai doesn’t stay too long in one place.  Readers must pay close attention to the passage of time.  Many chapters begin by giving a month and a year.  At other times a chapter’s opening paragraph will pass six months.  Chapter 20 begins with “Winter was quiet.” Five lines later it says, “But spring brought ...”  Readers may not know, for example, that whaling voyages literally took years, so missing the passage of time may lead to confusion.

At the same time, the novel’s fast pace never leaves readers in one spot for long.  Manjiro moves from whaling to school to whaling to gold rush, and readers will be eager to see what sort of adventure comes next.

At the end of the book, author Margi Preus includes an extensive glossary of Japanese words, terms, and phrases, whaling terms and parts of a ship, and sailor’s lingo.  (And if one of my oppos proves to be a shonkey, I may tell him to stow it before he finds himself with the devil to pay and no pitch hot.)  Heart of a Samurai will be good for upper elementary and middle school students who know the ropes and who won’t be whistling up a wind when trying a more challenging read.