tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86777166025713291122024-03-13T13:25:41.302-04:00Lela Nargi NewsNews, reviews & other fun stuffUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger85125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8677716602571329112.post-83411423540491375412013-05-29T14:38:00.005-04:002013-06-03T09:57:33.303-04:00Yes, I'm Still Moved!So to learn about my Picks of the Week—and all my other news—please come visit me at <a href="http://lelanargi.com/">lelanargi.com</a>! Don't forget to "follow" me over there by clicking the link at the top of the page!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8677716602571329112.post-60086639063057327402013-05-20T10:05:00.001-04:002013-05-21T10:13:17.853-04:00Yes, I've Officially Moved!Yes, this entire blog! For all the news this page has previously provided, please hop on over to my <a href="http://lelanargi.com/">website</a>. You can find this week's Pick of the Week, and all future picks, on my website's "<a href="http://lelanargi.com/newspicks/">News & Picks of the Week</a>" page. Can't wait to see you, and while you're over there, don't forget to hit the "follow" button!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8677716602571329112.post-24452130450010424002013-05-16T11:05:00.000-04:002013-05-17T12:32:27.676-04:00I'm moving!Dear friends of Lela Nargi News:<br />
I'm moving this page! Starting with this weekend's Pick of the Week, I'll be posting reviews over on my website, on a page dedicated to News & Picks of the Week. Find it <a href="http://lelanargi.com/news/">here</a>. And so you don't miss a single installment, make sure you "Follow" the new page! It's easy as pie—just press the little button on the top left bar. See you over there!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8677716602571329112.post-19596298493533813112013-05-13T11:12:00.000-04:002013-05-13T14:54:11.354-04:00Belated Mother's Day Pick(s)As I was way too busy being adored by my family yesterday, I put off posting the thoughts I'd had in mind all last week for this page. And those concerned what is possibly my daughter and my favorite activity, reading aloud together. More specifically, my reading aloud to her. For the past few weeks we've been working our way through these:<br />
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Ada thought that I should wait to post about them until we'd finished the last book in the trilogy, THE AMBER SPYGLASS. But whether Ada likes the third book as much as the first two is slightly irrelevant to the purpose of this post. Which is to extol the virtues of reading to the kid(s) in your life. </div>
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I'm moderately aware of what literacy experts have to say about the matter: that it increases vocabulary and stimulates language development; that it creates positive associations with reading generally; that it introduces kids to books they might not select on their own, and helps them learn to sit still and listen. All of these are terrific reasons. But they're not any of them the reasons I started reading to Ada in the first place, and they're not the reasons I continue to read to her now.<br />
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I guess my reasons are selfish. Reading some of my own favorite books to Ada lets me visit them again, and also to appreciate them from her perspective, since she almost always has some observation that I'd missed, or that never occurred to me. Reading out loud also helps me understand, as a writer, what works and what doesn't in written language—I can <i>hear</i> when passages are too verbose, or when they are paced just right (and in Philip Pullman's books, there are a lot of passages like the latter). And I can figure out, from Ada's reaction, what is fun and engaging and what is completely lame and boring.<br />
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Ada accuses me of not liking to play and I'm ashamed to admit it, but she's right; I'm good for putting together a puzzle, or arranging dollhouse furniture, or hauling down the sewing machine and practicing making seams. But the imaginative play as well as the board games—well, my husband really has to pick up the slack there. When I read to Ada, though, she accuses me of nothing. Pretty much for as long as I'm able to read—and sometimes we have marathon sessions going on two hours—she's able to sit and listen. I love watching as, when we come to a particularly tense scene in which Mrs. Coulter and her monkey daemon are up to their nasty old tricks again, she shoots up her head to look at me with wide eyes and to groan, "Oh, no!"<br />
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A lot less often than when she was younger, Ada will sit curled up with me on the couch as I read—as opposed to sitting and drawing at the coffee table, or glueing beads to something, or rolling around with the dog. When she does, I notice that she's reading along and I think how great that is, that she's getting to see how some big words are pronounced and building her vocabulary, and all those important educational things. But mostly, I'm just enjoying the feel of her soft, warm head tucked under my chin.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8677716602571329112.post-79797129008446667412013-04-30T09:51:00.002-04:002013-04-30T15:41:24.001-04:00Picks of the Two Weeks, and a Tribute, of Sorts<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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I’ve spent the last two weeks reading as much E.L.
Konigsburg as my local library shelf provided. Even before the sad event of her
passing on April 19, I was well through my fourth reading of all time of her
Newberry Award-winner, <i>From the Mixed-Up
Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler</i>. I was trying to determine if my third
reading of all time (about three years ago, out loud to my daughter), in which
I found myself vaguely disappointed by the story, was really a case of
not-in-the-mood, or let-down due to Ada’s apparent lack of enthusiasm, or just of
a once-beloved book—through no fault of its own—not being able to live up to
the adoration in which it was once held. In short, I wanted to know if I plain
didn’t like the book anymore. And more broadly, I was also considering the
question of whether certain books seem out-of-date after a generation or two.
Also in the back of my mind was <i>The Wind
in the Willows</i>, my absolute favorite book of childhood, the one that made
me want to be a writer in the first grade and which I plagiarized heavily for a
story I scribbled in the notebook my mother bought me for my first day of
school. When I tried to re-read it in adulthood, it seemed so dry and slow I
could barely find my way out of the first chapter. </div>
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My 4<sup>th</sup> grade teacher read <i>From the Mixed Up Files…</i>out loud to us, way back in 1976. I was
completely, unutterably entranced. So much so that when she finished the
read-aloud, I asked her if I could borrow the book, so I could read it again at
home. “What do you want to read it again for?” She asked. “We just finished
it!” I wanted to read it again, of course, because I wanted to savor it all on
my own, without having to listen to the tittering and commenting and breathing
of my classmates—the scenes of planning and organizing to run away; the scenes
of choosing where to sleep in the Metropolitan Museum, and those in which Claudia and Jamie have free run of it afterhours. In retrospect, it’s obvious
why I loved these as much as I did. I grew up a few blocks away from the Met
and my parents and I spent every Sunday afternoon there, wandering the Egyptian
wing, and the Arms and Armor, and those rooms full of furniture. The book was
like my own private fantasy written into life.</div>
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After my fourth read-through, I still wasn’t sure what I
thought. Except for this: kids don’t really talk like that anymore. And also
this: the story requires patience, which contemporary kids aren’t asked to
dredge up very often when they read these days—they are thrown right into the
action of a story, right off the bat. I had never read another book by E.L.
Konigburg, so I checked out <i>Jennifer,
Hecate, Macbeth, William McKinley, and Me, Elizabeth</i>, her first novel; <i>The Mysterious Edge of the Heroic World</i>;
<i>The Outcasts of 19 Schuyler Place</i>;
and Konigsburg’s second Newberry winner, <i>The
View from Saturday</i>. </div>
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These books span four decades. And still, after reading
them, I thought, kids don’t really talk that way anymore, and also, these
stories require patience. And I also thought: these two observations are
irrelevant. Because what was obvious on considering these five books
all together were Konigsburg’s real talents. She had a true and deep understanding of the emotional complexity of
relationships—the kind and savage ways we treat each other, and the place where
those disparate sides of ourselves meet. And she was a master of the chaotic
coincidence—the narrator who turns out to mean much more than the reader (or the protagonists) bargained for; an incidental, never-introduced character who holds the key to a
grand mystery; four teenagers whose friendship hinges on a seemingly random
wedding in Florida.</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-d6Oz0VLcoh4/UYAePKp1-BI/AAAAAAAAAzg/coqeevr7RB8/s1600/The-View-from-Saturday-340155.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-d6Oz0VLcoh4/UYAePKp1-BI/AAAAAAAAAzg/coqeevr7RB8/s320/The-View-from-Saturday-340155.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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To enjoy the results of these talents, it is worthwhile to
overlook quirks in dialog, and also to have patience. And as a parent, and a late-arriving fan of some of these
books, perhaps I should have patience, too. Ada may not have been ready for <i>From the Mixed Up Files…</i> as a six year
old; and she might not be ready for it now, as a 4<sup>th</sup> grader; but
perhaps one of these years she will discover this book and the others all on
her own, and find them just right for the moment. </div>
<!--EndFragment-->Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8677716602571329112.post-4591062791854289292013-04-12T11:17:00.000-04:002013-04-12T11:17:22.988-04:00My New Pick of the Week—Now With Extra Newness!<!--StartFragment-->
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It’s not easy to pull off a story whose core has potentially
maudlin proclivities, with no trace of sentimentality or the author’s own pity
for her character.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If I hadn’t
first read WONDER by R.J. Palacio for myself, though, I might have been alarmed
to hear my daughter chuckling as she read the opening chapters of this book
about boy with no real ears to speak of and a severely misaligned,
surgery-scarred face; might have worried that she was sociopathically lacking
in empathy.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-C-V3uSpRHO4/UWgkyNQL4xI/AAAAAAAAAxg/yt1Dfgcn6FM/s1600/wonder.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="182" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-C-V3uSpRHO4/UWgkyNQL4xI/AAAAAAAAAxg/yt1Dfgcn6FM/s400/wonder.gif" width="400" /></a></div>
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But laughing your way through is a good impulse (albeit one
I didn’t have, probably because I’ve already lived through middle school, the
backdrop for WONDER, and remember precisely nothing amusing about the
experience). It not only serves to honor the efforts of the protagonist, August,
and those around him to muddle through adversity—living with your own
impossible face or living with a person who has an impossible face—but negates
the corniness of an inevitable happy ending. Not that a book like this
shouldn’t have a happy ending. In fact, one thing I realize I’ve been enjoying
about middle grade novels is their absolute unabashed conviction in happy
endings; it’s always a joy to reach the last page, when you feel fulfilled by
what’s come before.<o:p></o:p></div>
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WONDER begins in August’s voice, as he grapples with the
idea of going off to the terrifying world of school for the very first time,
and all the angst, fear and bravery that entails. A few chapters in, it
switches its POV to August’s various family members and acquaintances, then
eventually circles back to August. Initially, I wasn’t sure I liked this devise.
It snaps the reader out of the carefully-constructed world of the story, which
is a little bit dangerous—the reader may never come back around. But because of
it, the book achieves a broader, more complex and compelling understanding of
the workings of empathy. It also recognizes that some people who cross our
paths are just jerks, beyond the reach of empathy; a happy ending is happy,
too, to leave them behind. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8677716602571329112.post-74198234460711864112013-03-27T15:28:00.003-04:002013-03-27T15:28:49.003-04:00A Holiday-Week Pick
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Are you and the <i>kinder</i> driving each other crazy this break? In
the spirit of détente, I offer up a Pick of the Week that my own kid and I agree
on: </div>
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This novel by Marie Rutkowski is the first in a trilogy that Ada devoured in short order. I've only made it through the first two, but find the inaugural book to be a lot more compelling (for the record, Ada disagrees). As it turns out, Ada and I not only agree that we really like this book, we agree on the reason why. </div>
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"It's weird," my daughter enthuses. "I mean, how many people have a metal spider?" (This is a reference to the protagonist, Petra's, pet, made by her magic-wielding metalsmith of a father, along with a whole metal menagerie.) "Or can steal eyeballs?" (I'll refrain from elaborating here, in the interest of not spoiling the rest of the plot). "And I love that it happens in a real time" (the Middle Ages), "in a real place" (Bohemia, now the Czech Republic), "and that fake stuff is mixed up with the real stuff." To which I can only respond, "Exactly." </div>
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It's this mingling of the historic and the fantastical that makes the book a success—and Petra's spider, Astrophil, affectionate despite his cold exterior, and also a voracious reader, is only one small part of the equation. The world that Rutkoski has created holds true even though we know that it is punctuated with non-realities. In fact, it is all of its charm. </div>
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<!--EndFragment-->Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8677716602571329112.post-5480357703300434672013-03-14T10:40:00.000-04:002013-03-14T10:40:02.081-04:00Next week, I'll be celebrating Agricultural Literacy Week by reading The Honeybee Man to 2nd graders at PS 29, PS 3 and PS 41. As an added bonus, I'll also be spending Earth Day with 1st and 2nd graders at the United Nations International School. Can't wait to meet you all, and to find out what you know and love about honeybees!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8677716602571329112.post-52196767811762691352013-02-22T11:11:00.000-05:002013-02-22T11:14:16.132-05:00The Next Big Thing: Blog Tour<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“The Next Big Thing: Blog Tour” has landed here!
Thanks to <a href="http://michelledwards.com/">Michelle Edwards</a> for tagging me and for helping to keep this thing
going. Here are my answers to The 10 Questions:</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> <b> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">1. </span></b></span></span></span><b>What is the title of your book?</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The
Honeybee Man</i>, written by me, illustrated by Kyrsten Brooker</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qsLgZ9uwUy8/USeZQOqee8I/AAAAAAAAAvs/gGElgU0HVCU/s1600/the-honeybee-man.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qsLgZ9uwUy8/USeZQOqee8I/AAAAAAAAAvs/gGElgU0HVCU/s1600/the-honeybee-man.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> <b>2. Where did the idea come from for the book?</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">From a jar of Brooklyn honey I found in a
local teashop. Beekeeping was still illegal in NYC at that time (about 5 years
ago) and anyone who was keeping bees was doing it extremely quietly. Until I
found that honey, it had never occurred to me that anyone could or would keep
bees in an urban environment, or that there city flowers would make for
edible—let alone tasty—honey. Immediately, I wanted to know all about it. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;"> </span> <b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">3. </span></b></span></span></span><!--[endif]--><b>What genre does your book fall under?</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">It’s a picture book that’s what I guess
you’d call a non-fictional fiction story.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b> 4. What actors would you choose to play the parts
of your characters in a movie?</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Walter Matthau, if he weren’t dead. I’d
probably pick Walter Matthau to play the role of any man of a certain age, in
any movie at all.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> <b> 5. What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book?</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">A story inspired by a real Brooklyn
apiarist and his delicious honey<br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> <b>6. </b></span></span></span></span><b>Who is publishing your book?</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">It was published by Schwartz & Wade.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;"> </span> <b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">7. </span></b></span></span></span><!--[endif]--><b>How long did it take you to write the first
draft of the manuscript?</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">About a week, although later revisions seemed to take forever.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;"> </span> <b> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">8. </span></b></span></span></span><!--[endif]--><b>What other books would you compare this to
within your genre?</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">There are certainly some terrific picture
books about bees out there: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Beeman</i>
by Laurie Krebs and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">UnBeelievables</i> by
Douglas Florian, for example.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;"> </span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> <b>9. </b></span></span></span></span><!--[endif]--><b>Who or what inspired you to write this book?</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Anything I write for kids I write for my
nine-year-old daughter. And the topics that interest and inspire both her and
me are the ones that often fall beneath the radar in a big and busy city such
as New York. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> <b>10. </b></span></span></span></span><!--[endif]--></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>What
else about this book might pique a reader’s interest?</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Along with Laurie Krebs' <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Beeman</i>, it was recently chosen to be
read to 2<sup>nd</sup> grade New Yorkers as part of the Cornell Extension
Service’s Agricultural Literacy Week. I’ll be reading it at schools around the
city the week of March 18.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Thanks for stopping by and learning a little more about the
book! And now, I’m tagging <a href="http://www.lesleyalderman.com/">Lesley Alderman</a> and her newly released book, which I can’t wait to
read:</span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i_a2JrR4A2o/USeXRgpWO7I/AAAAAAAAAvk/p6CtUOotfls/s1600/bookoftimes+pb+c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i_a2JrR4A2o/USeXRgpWO7I/AAAAAAAAAvk/p6CtUOotfls/s320/bookoftimes+pb+c.jpg" width="236" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #333333; font-family: garamond, serif;">"The Book of Times <i>is an endlessly fascinating survey of time. Packed with compelling charts, lists, and quizzes, as well as new and intriguing research, the book examines a wide swath of life—love, war, crime, art, money and media—through the unerring meter of the clock</i>."</span></span></div>
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<!--EndFragment-->Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8677716602571329112.post-80378056348529854142013-02-02T07:44:00.002-05:002013-02-11T08:00:43.132-05:00Honeybees in the Classroom!No pick of the week this week, but I'll share some fabulous news: Cornell's Cooperative Extension has chosen THE HONEYBEE MAN to teach 2nd graders in NY State a little something about urban honeybees, as part of its Agricultural Literacy Week. It all happens the week of March 18, and hopefully, I'll be hopping around town, reading at schools throughout the boroughs. Find out more about this excellent program <a href="http://www.agclassroom.org/ny/programs/literacy.htm">here</a>, and stay tuned for reading datse—I'll be posting updates as I know them.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8677716602571329112.post-60983821239062445832013-01-25T12:51:00.000-05:002013-02-12T15:30:05.255-05:00The Right Book! (That Wasn't)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZgTihfFMJAw/UQLAjpPnvvI/AAAAAAAAAu8/j1bAO-AUSH0/s1600/show.php.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZgTihfFMJAw/UQLAjpPnvvI/AAAAAAAAAu8/j1bAO-AUSH0/s400/show.php.jpeg" width="243" /></a></div>
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This time, I was sure I had it. Thanks to the excellent book-sleuthing skills of Louise and Sue, librarians at the children's collection at the NYPL's main branch, British author Helen Cresswell's <i>Moondial </i>was<i> </i>delivered into my waiting hands for on-site viewing. In the brief minutes I could spend that day in the reading room, I sped through the first 44 pages.<br />
<br />
All sorts of familiar details sprang out at me: the "icy gusts" that Minty, the protagonist, experiences as she nears the sun/moondial; the garden "waiting for her;" the boy from another time clad in his rough jacket and woolen trousers. Never mind that I didn't remember Minty's mother having a car accident, or anyone owning a microwave oven. I went right home and ordered an old copy of the book for 1 cent, certain that the rest of the details I'd been reading fast to find would emerge beginning on page 45.<br />
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Well, they didn't. The back-and-forth between eras that Minty experiences at the moondial is too swift and easy (in the book I remember, the protagonist has to unlock the mystery of the sundial in order to figure out how to use it for time travel). There is none of the riddle-solving or potion-making that stuck so fast in my memory. And that microwave...well, that was a big clue, if only because it prompted me to look at the publication date. Which was 1987. The year I was a sophomore in college and so, needless to say, an unlikely year for me to have been reading a middle grade mystery novel.<br />
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And so the search continues! Thanks to all who've been helping in the quest and please keep writing in with your suggestions!<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8677716602571329112.post-87624494370271686252013-01-11T11:52:00.000-05:002013-01-11T11:52:35.397-05:00This Is Not the Book I'm Looking For<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Every several years, I embark on a fruitless search to find a particular book I once read and enjoyed when I was about my daughter's age (9). The search renews whenever I have a new crop of librarians and/or children's book specialists of one stripe or another available in my life—in the most recent instance, a week ago, the amazing former Bank Street librarian, Lisa von Drasek. Sadly, the search always ends in failure. </div>
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This is not the book I'm looking for (although, LVD, please know it was a noble guess, the closest yet):<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3pUqFQ53sr8/UPA-BzkwVBI/AAAAAAAAAtQ/w9ggU5iVtKI/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3pUqFQ53sr8/UPA-BzkwVBI/AAAAAAAAAtQ/w9ggU5iVtKI/s320/photo.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="239" /></a></div>
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Neither is this—not even close, not by a long shot:<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-45cwrwaE6Mo/UPA-4YFU6bI/AAAAAAAAAtc/g1tac4lGnxI/s1600/200px-PhilippaPearce_TomsMidnightGarden.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-45cwrwaE6Mo/UPA-4YFU6bI/AAAAAAAAAtc/g1tac4lGnxI/s1600/200px-PhilippaPearce_TomsMidnightGarden.jpg" /></a></div>
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And neither is this:<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mI0s7n13o2k/UPA_J3tTNcI/AAAAAAAAAtk/3PDqtiyr1bk/s1600/book_magichalf.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mI0s7n13o2k/UPA_J3tTNcI/AAAAAAAAAtk/3PDqtiyr1bk/s400/book_magichalf.gif" width="258" /></a></div>
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Although honestly, this one didn't come as any shock at all, since the book I'm looking for must have been written in the '60s or '70s and Annie Barrows is a thoroughly contemporary author. It was just a dream, the wisp of a hope of a dream, persistently unrequited. </div>
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I'm not sure why it's so important to me to rediscover this book. It couldn't have been one of my favorites, seeing as how I can't even remember its title, I never owned it–just took it out of the library, once–and this means I never re-read it. The only thing I remember about it is one critical scene, in which the protagonist brings a concoction of herbs to a sundial in an overgrown garden, in order to travel back in time. I'm guessing it wasn't otherwise much of a book (how else to account for the ignorance of whole teams of kid lit experts?). But still I persist; I hate a lingering literary mystery and plus, my daughter is a dedicated potion concocter–something tells me she'd love, if not this whole book, at least that one potion-related scene in the weed-filled garden. </div>
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Anyone? Anyone?</div>
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Meanwhile, unrelated to magical gardens and time travel, I offer this book as my pick of the week:</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-b1O66AmTYTk/UPBB5b2l9OI/AAAAAAAAAuA/0NEa6oSIVTE/s1600/128521.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-b1O66AmTYTk/UPBB5b2l9OI/AAAAAAAAAuA/0NEa6oSIVTE/s320/128521.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="215" /></a></div>
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It's probably not the greatest book ever written, and it's certainly dated. But in its favor are a tiny, magical talking dog; a covetous collection of miniature bejeweled wind-up animals with various abilities; and yes, as the title pretty much screams, flying in the house. After 45 years of living, I still wish I could do that.</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8677716602571329112.post-56594775990010856682012-12-07T13:11:00.001-05:002012-12-07T13:11:48.820-05:00Two—Count 'Em—Picks of the WeekTo tell you the truth, I wasn't much of a Roald Dahl fan as a kid. I wasn't a disparager, either, just sort of a disinterested party; I think the deep sadnesses experienced by his young characters stressed me out. But sometime in my young adulthood, I got my hands on this:<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5rB8_omv6CQ/UMItDwq122I/AAAAAAAAAso/TpNzLLi7eOg/s1600/boy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5rB8_omv6CQ/UMItDwq122I/AAAAAAAAAso/TpNzLLi7eOg/s400/boy.jpg" width="262" /></a></div>
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And then immediately after devouring it, I went right out and got my hands on this:</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uQnmgGVoyJk/UMItUzYJiuI/AAAAAAAAAsw/b_YBw4Ndq4M/s1600/Going+Solo+Roald+Dahl+cover.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uQnmgGVoyJk/UMItUzYJiuI/AAAAAAAAAsw/b_YBw4Ndq4M/s400/Going+Solo+Roald+Dahl+cover.JPG" width="256" /></a></div>
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I started reading them out loud to Ada a couple of weeks ago, mostly because I wanted an excuse to read them again myself. And happily enough, Ada seems to be enjoying them as much as I did and do. She called BOY "gruesome," but she meant it in the best possible way and her face kind of lit up as she said it. And the book—containing autobiographical sketches of the author's school years, some of which were spent at an English boarding school—certainly does touch on the gruesome. But it is also a kind of amazing and tricky symbiosis of complete self-confidence and self-effacement on the part of Dahl—his way of shrugging off his own bravery or brilliance, and for making his most frightening travails seem, not at all commonplace, but absolutely surmountable. And it's funny. And in addition to all that, there are several terrific "ah-ha" moments throughout, in which the reader gets a glimpse of the author-to-come, and what must have been some rich—and yes, gruesome—material for his later books. </div>
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In some ways, GOING SOLO is even better, although it deals with Dahl's post-school adult years, during which he joined the Shell Company and went off to a life of adventure in Africa, only to be waylaid by World War II. I wasn't sure Ada would be interested in his account of flying fighter planes over Egypt for the RAF. But she is; perhaps it is the recitation of exotic place names, or Dahl's always spot-on tone and ear for pacing—a rival to Tolkien—or the descriptions of places and events that are so distant in place and time as to seem almost magical. Admittedly, though, it was the tales of snakes and other wild animals that had her sitting on the edge of the couch, biting the inside of her lip at the tension. Would the gardener be bitten by the deadly green mamba? Would the lion, trotting off with the cook's wife in his jaws, finally consume her? There is only way for you to find out, of course, and I suggest that you do it, posthaste!</div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8677716602571329112.post-60552576695179552122012-11-29T10:36:00.001-05:002012-11-29T10:36:37.212-05:00A Read-Aloud Pick of the WeekAny day now, Peter Jackson's movie treatment of THE HOBBIT will be upon us. I'm sure I'll like it just fine. But what I love, and loved beyond measure as a child, was Tolkien's riveting novel, which I'm shocked to realize I read to myself only once. I read it out loud to Ada this summer, just before she turned nine. It was one of those rare instances of hitting precisely the right book at the right time, and I'm crossing my fingers that she lets me read it to her again one day extremely soon.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My favorite HOBBIT cover</td></tr>
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<br />It's not that Ada, or any book-loving kid of her age, couldn't read this book for herself. But reading it aloud was a total pleasure for both of us, for the simple, crucial reason that Tolkien was a master of language and pacing and suspense—you feel the full force of these gifts when you utter his words out loud (or hear them read to you). There are few writers to match him in this regard, no matter what detractors like Phillip Pullman eventually made of his "simplistic" moralism (which, in fairness, I believe applies more to the LORD OF THE RINGS trilogy).<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The cover of THE HOBBIT I read as a kid</td></tr>
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Once I got started reading, I almost never wanted to stop, even when I began to go hoarse. So it was that I managed to read the entire book to Ada in about four days. I sped through the thing, then was sorry I hadn't made it last forever. And once the book was finished, I couldn't think of another book I wanted to read out loud half so much. In fact, I'm still trying to come up with reasonable read-aloud sequel. I've hit on something pretty close, though—more about that next week.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8677716602571329112.post-78070086230289752202012-11-16T11:30:00.002-05:002012-11-16T11:30:11.221-05:00A New York-Centric Pick of the WeekIt's not a coincidence that I selected this week's pick directly on the heels of last week's pick. When Ada and I first read ALL-OF-A-KIND FAMILY by Sydney Taylor<br />
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(shown here – small. Sorry – with its most recent reprint jacket), my first reaction was that it was like a LITTLE HOUSE ON THE PRAIRIE of New York. The book and its four sequels follow the lives and adventures of five – count 'em – Jewish sisters (and eventually, one brother) growing up in the early years of the 20th century, and are heavily based on Taylor's own girlhood. </div>
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Throughout this series, as in the LITTLE HOUSE series, there are illnesses (the dreaded scarlet fever); big moves (from the largest Jewish neighborhood in the world at that time, on the Lower East Side of Manhattan, uptown to a more integrated and swank locale); celebrations of holidays (Purim, for one notable example); the saving of pennies for highly coveted candy; detailed and fascinating descriptions of everyday life and various childhood mishaps and triumphs. Here is micro-history, not of the American plains but of urban streets, and every bit as engrossing and unfamiliar when contemplated now, over a hundred years later. There's a dwindling number of New Yorkers who remember, say, street-side pickle merchants, or buying crackers by the pound out of a barrel (broken crackers were cheaper). </div>
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AOAKF was another book that captivated Ada so thoroughly that she could not tease out her favorite parts. As for me, I loved the sisters' Friday visits to the library (a perfect happenstance, since the book was originally recommended to me by a librarian). The highly anticipated recurring event is a thread that stitches some otherwise anecdotal chapters together. It's also a great reminder of the beauty and importance of books, which were once so rare and valuable that, for all but the privileged, owning one was almost unthinkable. </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8677716602571329112.post-66525375771795893342012-11-10T13:59:00.002-05:002012-11-11T08:29:04.858-05:00A (Late) Pick of the Week<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<span style="text-align: left;">It was another strange and dire week of weather as a Nor'easter blew through the five boroughs, dumping snow on an already beleaguered landscape. You know who else knew from extreme weather? The Ingalls family. </span></div>
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Of all the seven books written by Laura Ingalls Wilder, I have two favorites (I can't speak for Ada; I just know that's she's read the entire series three times):</div>
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<span style="font-size: 13px;">LITTLE HOUSE ON THE PRAIRIE (this is the original cover), and </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 13px;">ON THE BANKS OF PLUM CREEK (another original cover here).</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;">It's a testament to the incredible vividness of Wilder's writing that when I first read these books aloud to Ada about four years ago, I remembered certain passages almost scene for scene from when I'd read them to myself as a child. Oddly, two of them have to do with the weather. </span><br />
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The first is the passage in LITTLE HOUSE ON THE PRAIRIE in which Mr. Edwards braves raging rivers and freezing rain to bring Christmas to the Ingalls girls: </div>
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<i>When he saw the creek rising, Mr. Edwards said, he had known that Santa Claus could not get across it. (But you crossed it, Laura said. "Yes," Mr. Edwards replied, "but Santa Claus is too old and fat. He couldn't make it, where a long, lean razorback like me could do so.") And Mr. Edwards reasoned that if Santa Claus couldn't cross the creak, likely he would come no further south than Independence. Why should he come forty miles across the prairie only to be turned back? Of course he would't do that!</i></div>
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<i>So Mr. Edwards had walked to Independence. ("In the rain?" Mary asked. Mr. Edwards said he wore his rubber coat.) And there, coming down the street in Independence, he had met Santa Claus. ("In the daylight?" Laura asked She hadn't thought that anyone could see Santa Claus in the daytime. No, Mr. Edwards said; it was night, but light shone out across the street from the saloons.)</i></div>
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On and on Mr. Edwards goes with his story and at the end of it, there are stockings full of Christmas for Mary and Laura and the contents are so overwhelming to them that they can't quite believe their eyes, or their luck: tin cups, peppermint candy, white-sugar cakes, and to top it all off, a penny for each. And 72 years after the book was first published, this still, thanks to the pacing of the words on the pages, seems like the most incredible bounty.</div>
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The second weather-related passage is in ON THE BANKS OF PLUM CREEK, when Pa is expected back from town during a raging, blinding snowstorm. He's been missing for three days – as it turns out, camped practically right beside the house, which he couldn't see through the driving snow. He's had to eat the oyster crackers he'd been bringing home for Christmas dinner, as well as all the girls' Christmas candy, in order to survive. Not that anyone begrudges him.</div>
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There's plenty more weather in all the books: searing heat, choking winds, snow and rain storms by the dozens, in addition to drought, plagues, and fires. But the passage that haunts me, in the best possible way, and which I could barely read aloud all the way through because the emotion of it was so great, is not weather-related in the slightest. It's the long-drawn-out scene in LHOTP in which Laura, after weeks of being kept awake by "Indians" crying for war down by the creek, watches them finally depart the region in a long stream, by horse and by foot, right past her house. </div>
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<i>The pony was very near now, and Laura's heart beat faster and faster. She looked up at the Indian's beaded moccasin, she looked along the fringed legging that clung to the pony's bare side. A bright-colored blanket was wrapped around the Indian. One bare brown-red arm carried a rifle lightly across the pony's naked shoulders. Then Laura looked up and saw the Indian's fierce, still, brown face. It was a proud, still face. No matter what happened, it would always be like that. Nothing would change it. Only the eyes were alive on that face, and they gazed steadily far away to the west. They did not move. Nothing moved or changed, except the eagle feathers standing straight up from the scalplock on the shaved head. The long feathers swayed and dipped, waving and spinning in the wind as the tall Indian on the black pony passed on into the distance.</i></div>
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There is the most palpable longing in Laura, who wishes to be one of the passing throng and who is left with a sense of tragic emptiness once they've gone. But more than that, the reader can't help but realize, in flashes, that this is not fiction; it is, in fact, history, laid out richly before us as though the moment were still upon us, by someone who experienced it herself. </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8677716602571329112.post-65676678782870891802012-11-03T11:56:00.000-04:002012-11-03T11:56:23.829-04:00Pick(s) of the Week for a Little Reading Pick-Me-UpHere in Brooklyn, it's been a sad, strange and highly inspirational week. Sad, of course, because a large number of neighborhoods in this borough and others were ravaged by Hurricane Sandy, including Red Hook, the neighborhood just adjacent to ours. Inspirational, because so many members of our community (including tons of kids) have come together day after day after day to help where help was needed and the efforts continue, virtually unabated. And strange, well, for a lot of reasons, one of which has been the unprecedented closing of public schools for the last five days. In addition to volunteer work, this has meant a lot of READING.<br />
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Our house, even in a usual sort of week, sees a lot of binge reading of books by favorite authors, especially if there are sequels to be had. The current top of the heap is Grace Lin, first for her highly autobiographical Pacy Lin trilogy:<br />
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YEAR OF THE DOG, </div>
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YEAR OF THE RAT and </div>
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DUMPLING DAYS, </div>
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in which young Chinese-American Grace (Pacy) struggles to come to terms with what it means to be neither one thing nor the other, or maybe two things at once, or maybe something in between. </div>
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And also these two, slightly more advanced novels:</div>
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WHERE THE MOUNTAIN MEETS THE MOON and its sequel, </div>
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STARRY RIVER OF THE SKY. </div>
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These are fables that veer frequently off to present even more fables. They function very well as read-alouds, especially to children who are crazy for all things Chinese (as my daughter is), and have the patience for breaks in the central story. And also for children, and grown-ups, who are ready for a little reminder that even the smallest, youngest, most seemingly inconsequential person can triumph over adversity. </div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8677716602571329112.post-9879514561443849952012-10-26T11:38:00.001-04:002012-10-26T11:38:10.400-04:00Travel with Me Through Time for: My Pick of the Week<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My first reaction on completing this book was awe. It's not easy to pull off sci-fi for middle grade readers – at least, not that they can read to themselves; the potential for confusion in the face of complicated story lines and leaps of readerly faith seems extremely high. And in retrospect, I think what makes <i>When You Reach Me</i> so successful is the fact that it actually doesn't come off as sci-fi at all for most of its chapters. Rather, it's an engaging tale with a vividly (and tenderly) rendered heroine that has a lot of the trappings of a mystery.</div>
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Ada read it first, in fits and starts because certain parts she found so "creepy" she wasn't sure she could go on (I remember having that same reaction at her age, reading Hardy Boys mysteries at bedtime: shutting a book in terror and vowing never to pick it up again; re-poening it minutes later; shutting it; opening it; and finally, triumphantly, making my way to the dénouement). But go on she did. Toward the end she could be heard muttering across the apartment: "Oooooh, that makes sense now. I get it, I get it, it's all coming together!" And when I finished it, I had the same delighted reaction. </div>
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When I realized this morning that I'd managed to pick a book this week that hadn't been written over 40 years ago, I was mightily pleased with myself. Until I realized, it takes place in the '70s, on the Upper West Side. So my quest to choose a thoroughly contemporary, non-urban middle grade novel that both Ada and I love remains unfulfilled. Not that I care, if you don't.</div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8677716602571329112.post-39300345329546470312012-10-19T09:20:00.000-04:002012-10-19T09:20:40.345-04:00(Trumpet Trill Please): Book Pick of the WeekCharacters that are at once noble, flawed and hilarious – HOW DOES E.B. WHITE DO IT? This is what I wondered as I re-read <i>Charlotte's Web</i> and <i>Stuart Little</i> as an adult. And it's what I wondered in spades this summer as I read yet another classic:<br />
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The story of a swan born mute, it chronicles young hero Louis's attempts to make money to pay for the trumpet his vain, endearing father has stolen to be his voice. He triumphs, of course, in more ways than one – love, friendship, monetary gain. But I'm not sure the story would be nearly as appealing to kids if it weren't also humorous. E.B. White was a master of cheerful, casual dialog that is full of sentiment, never cloying, and laugh-out-loud funny. "I've got a trumpet, I've got a slate, I've got a chalk pencil; now I've got a medal," says Louis at one point. "I'm beginning to look like a hippie." When she got to that line, Ada snorted milk out of her nose.<br />
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As with <i>Anastasia Krupnick</i>, I was late getting to this book, too. I started it as a read-aloud; halfway through, Ada commandeered it to read to herself because I couldn't read it to her fast enough – or at all, say, while I was driving the car. She's re-reading it now. Which, of course, is praise of the highest order.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8677716602571329112.post-53967193957299601682012-10-12T11:40:00.001-04:002012-10-12T13:32:08.054-04:00Today I'm trying something new. For an indefinite period of time (read: until I run out of stamina, interest, or opinions), I will be posting a Book of the Week pick here in the newsletter. The picks will be for middle grade readers to read themselves, or in a few notable instances, to have read to them - still (and I hope, forever) a favorite family occurrence at our house.<br />
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What inspired this decision was the dearth of interesting "Just Right" leveled books in the bins in my daughter's classroom. As the school year began, Ada was bringing home books she'd read already (not a bad thing, in and of itself, if you really WANT to re-read a certain book), as well as books she was distinctly hostile towards reading. So, with her teacher's blessing, I started trolling library shelves for stories that were gripping, just the right amount of challenging, and fun. A few people have asked for the list I started to compile. But not all these books are created equal and frankly, I just can't resist putting my two cents in. I'm sure there will be dissenters out there. Go ahead and dissent - and let me know about it! Meanwhile, I'm kicking off the picks with:<br />
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I'm embarrassed that I'd never read the work of fellow-journalist Lois Lowry before – I mean, she's written, what, something like 40 books and won zillions of awards. Nevertheless, ANASTASIA KRUPNIK – a recommendation from Ada's teacher – was an amazing way to begin to get acquainted with her books. I snatched it off the library pile before Ada got to it and read it straight through. It is, quite simply, a book about almost everything; at least, almost everything that's important to a girl of almost any age. Further explanation would only sound bland. The best books have a way of defying tidy accounting.<br />
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I was afraid that part of what I loved about it was the style of writing – so distinctly of the '70s and my own urban childhood – and that Ada wouldn't share my enthusiasm for it. She read half of it in one sitting last night, barely looking up to grunt when I announced that dinner was ready. It's the kind of book I wish were still written for grownups: hopeful, exploring the grey areas that make up our existence, direct. It's still in print after 35 years, so you can order a copy from your local bookseller. Alternately, the one pictured above will be back at our neighborhood library, probably by tomorrow.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8677716602571329112.post-13311384657227309452012-07-12T14:01:00.001-04:002012-07-12T14:01:51.833-04:00A Visit to LBYSA few weeks ago, long before the swelter of summer had set in for good, I hopped the F train and headed into Manhattan for an evening at Lion Brand Yarn Studio.<br />
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Before I talked to all the lovely assembled folks about the making of <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Astounding-Knits-Spectacular-Knitted-Creations/dp/0760338450/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1342116024&sr=1-1&keywords=astounding+knits">ASTOUNDING KNITS</a> and <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Knitting-Around-World-Multistranded-Time-Honored/dp/0760337942/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1342116053&sr=1-1&keywords=knitting+around+the+world">KNITTING AROUND THE WORLD</a>, <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qTCrKN3qrjU&feature=share">I talked to Patty</a>. About the making of ASTOUNDING KNITS and KNITTING AROUND THE WORLD.<br />
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Make sure you're sitting in air conditioning to watch it; otherwise, the sight of me wearing long sleeves and a sweater might make you break out in hives.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8677716602571329112.post-28303027162451013992012-07-06T11:16:00.005-04:002012-07-10T11:09:56.389-04:00Where I've Been<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The lovely public library in Chatham, NY. Every weekday morning, I drop my daughter at camp, then drive along the lily-strewn fields of the Hudson Valley to get here, where I do things like post this blog, browse the card catalog (!):<br />
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and plod along on various manuscripts. For company, I've got this guy, John T. Wheeler, MD one of the original founders of the library:<br />
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as well as Fern, Betty, and the children's librarian, Becky:<br />
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who has been kind enough to organize a reading of THE HONEYBEE MAN next Thursday at 1:00. Come heckle me if you're nearby!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8677716602571329112.post-55412760388157750262012-05-21T10:47:00.002-04:002012-05-23T12:47:05.216-04:00Spiff-ify - With Stickers!Yes, you, too, can spiff up your copy of THE HONEYBEE MAN with a Cook Prize Honor sticker! I've got three left. Leave me a message on this here blog that tells me something amazing about honeybees; I'll send out a sticker to the author of each of the three best comments. Bonus points if your (or better yet, your kid's) comment is a fact I never knew before, or if it involves a personal story about bees. <i>Bonne chance</i>!<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8677716602571329112.post-80299913851537174482012-05-18T14:05:00.002-04:002012-05-18T19:45:41.171-04:00The View from Bank StreetWell, no - not exactly. Because the day was so jam-packed I forgot to take pictures. Except for this one, capturing active resistance by an award-ceremony date, en route inside our deluxe ride:<br />
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The highlight for Ada was Paul O. Zelinski's hilarious PowerPoint presentation on the making of his latest book (with Kelly Bingham), <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Z-Moose-Kelly-Bingham/dp/0060799846/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1337363651&sr=1-1">Z IS FOR MOOSE</a>, during the keynote address for the Black Prize. "But yours was the next best speech after that," she assures me. (This is why it's critical to have daughters on your payroll.)<br />
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There were multiple highlights for me: getting to the last word of my speech without crying or throwing up; receiving this beautiful certificate:<br />
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receiving, too, this original bee drawing by Ada Grazia Cowan to accompany my certificate:<br />
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And really, being asked to be a part of this incredible day to begin with. So, so many thanks to all the Bank Street committee members who chose THE HONEYBEE MAN as a finalist; to all the super kids who read and voted on it; and to librarian extraordinaire, Lisa Von Drasek for, well, beyond "everything," her incredible support and enthusiasm.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8677716602571329112.post-20633797435390966692012-05-16T15:37:00.000-04:002012-05-16T16:40:07.969-04:00How I spent my morningWith librarians: hundreds and hundreds of school librarians. Here they are at the NYPL...<br />
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...shortly before they descended on the Bank Street table, where winners and honorees of two prizes – the Irma Black Award, and the Cook Prize – were on display. (Yup, there's THE HONEYBEE MAN, right there on the left, resplendent in its new silver medallion).<br />
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And here is the (blurry but) excellent Fiona Robinson, whose hilarious book, WHAT ANIMALS REALLY LIKE, is the winner of the Irma Black Award.<br />
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Tomorrow: my report from Bank Street!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0