The Magic Half by Annie Barrows, 211 pp, RL 4

Of course I noticed Annie Barrows's book The Magic Half the minute the paperback hit the shelves almost a year ago. The cover art is by one of my favorites, Alexandra Boiger, who illustrated two books that made it to my Best Picture Books of 2008, The Little Bit Scary People by Emily Jenkins and While Mama Had a Quick Little Chat by Amy Reichert. Boiger has also recently updated the cover art for Betty MacDonald's superb Mrs Piggle-Wiggle series, taking over for the briliant and influential children's book illustrator Hilary Knight. On top of the great cover, Barrows name caught my attention as well. Not only is she the author of the super new chapter book series for emerging readers, Ivy + Bean, but, along with her aunt, Mary Ann Shaffer, she is the co-author of the bestselling book group favorite for adults, The Guernsey Literary and Potato Pie Society!

And, yes, all that great background experience does lead up to a really great book! Like Jeanne Birdsall's wonderful series The Penderwicks (no news yet on when book 3 in the series will be published, but she plans to write 5 in all), The Magic Half shares a sense of timelessness (even though there are brief references here and there to Xboxes, iPods and cell phones) and attention to the importance of family. And, these books also share the common theme of big families. Four sisters make up the Penderwick family. The main character of The Magic Half, Miri (short for Miriam) is the middle child between two sets of twins. As Miri's father notes, "only one in fifty thousand families had two pairs of twins," thus making their family unique. For eleven year old Miri, this mostly means being the odd person out. Older brothers Robbie and Ray are inseparable, as are four year old twins, Nora and Nell. When the family moves to a new (old) house out in the country, Miri gets her own room for the first time, but still has trouble settling in.

The action in the story begins when Robbie and Ray run home with the news that there might be stolen loot buried on their property. Miri, who is getting a break from baby-sitting Nora and Nell, wants to help but the boys won't let her. Wandering around the large piece of land the house is set on leads her to the remains of the old barn and the likely spot for hidden treasure. When the boys spot her trying to sneak off with a shovel, a chase ensues, Miri is tackled, breaking her glasses, and she ends up whacking Ray in the head with the shovel. This lands Miri back in her room awaiting further punishment. Squinting without her glasses, Miri notices a flash of light near the floor from across the room. When she investigates, she finds a piece of glass - the lens from a pair of eyeglasses - taped to the baseboard. She gently removes it and holds it up to her eye for a better look and finds herself in the same place but transported to a different time. I find myself wanting to add exclamation points at the end of every sentence I write about this book. Barrows writing is so descriptively vivid, so immediate and straightforward, that the twists and turns, and magic, when it arrives, are always a surprise.

Miri finds herself face to face with Molly in the year 1935. Glasses, broken or otherwise, play a key role in this story, which quickly turns into a fast paced adventure and a race against the clock. Thoughtful and open to the possibilities of the imagination, Miri is only a little bit surprised by her time travel. Lonely and feeling left out, she immediately sees the same in Molly and her less than ideal family life and knows that, if she does nothing else, she must return to her own time with Molly in tow. This seems easy enough, but Miri first has to figure out how the magic and time travel work and how she can maneuver around Molly's menacing cousin Horst and manipulative Aunt Flo. And then there is Molly's Grandma May. I tore through this book because the story was so engrossing but also because Horst was such an unpredictable, wicked character that I was really worried for Molly's safety and had to know how the plot worked out. Barrows's writing style also lends itself to a speedy read. The book itself is a smaller format and the chapters are often less than ten pages. Which is both good and bad. Being such a great story, I would have loved to spend more time with Molly in 1935 and maybe even learn more about the mysterious Grandma May. Barrows's descriptions of the house are wonderful and Flo, Horst and his sister, Sissy are easily imagined and well drawn. Time with Miri and her siblings in the present is also enjoyable. The way her mother manages five children while unpacking a house and preparing to for a new semester teaching college while their father is out of town at a conference was entertaining from an adult's perspective, especially.

Short or long, I hope to read more of the same from Annie Burrows in the future!

Readers who enjoyed this book (and have already read The Penderwicks) might also like:

Half Magic by Edward Eager. All his books are excellent and this is a great place to start.

Five Children and It by E. Nesbit. Writing at the turn of the last century, Nesbit's fantasy stories have been greatly influential in the world of children's literature, inspiring Edward Eager and CS Lewis, among many others. Many of Nesbit's books have been made (and re-made) into movies by the BBC. One of my favorite is The Railway Children. Reality based, this book is comparable to A Little Princess and The Secret Garden by Frances Hodeson Burnett and a wonderful story about children and adults overcoming hardship with the help of friends. Interestingly, this book has been made into a movie five times in between 1968 and 2000. The British actress Jenny Agutter played the daughter in the 1968 production and the mother in the 2000 one.

Strawberry Hill, by current Children's Poet Laureate Mary Ann Hoberman is an excellent slice of life in America during the Great Depression. While it is semi-autobiographical and thus reality based, Hoberman's writing is so precise and rich that it feels magical.

And, last but not least, The Secret of the Ruby Ring by Yvonne Mac Gory, pictures by Terry Myler, is one of the best time-travel, historical fiction books for young readers I have enjoyed. Sadly, it is out of print but used copies abound. Lucy is a rather spoiled eleven year old who gets a very special ring as a birthday gift from her Grandmother. When she puts it on and twists it she finds herself in 1885 Ireland during a time of unrest, evictions and boycotting, working as a maid in Langley Castle. When she loses the ring and is unsure she will ever see her family again, she begins to take charge of her situation and appreciate her life.

Just in case you weren't familiar with Ivy + Bean, here they are, pictures by another favorite of mine in the world of children's book illustrators, Sophie Blackall.

The Strange Case of Origami Yoda by Tom Angleberger, 141 pp, RL 4

Ok, I am just going to do this now and get it out of the way: YES - there are passing similarities between Tom Angleberger's amazing new book, The Strange Case of Origami Yoda and Jeff Kinney's Diary of a Wimpy Kid that go well beyond their shared publisher, the excellent Amulet Books. Both are set in middle school, both are first person narratives, both contain kids who exist on the fringes (and far, outer fringes) of popularity and both contain a healthy dose of illustrations done by the young characters in the books. However, the whole story arc of The Strange Case of Origami Yoda involves introspection, observation, self-examination and, in more than one instance, forgiveness and the story wraps up in one book that has a very satisfying ending. I guarantee you that, even if Angleberger can't wrangle a few more books out of his well formed characters, The Strange Case of the Origami Yoda will find itself hugely popular among young readers and have a very long shelf life. And, I am sure that, for years to come, thanks to the instructions in the back of the book and on the website, teachers will be confiscating origami Yodas from their students.

The unifying force (no pun intended, Star Wars fans) for The Strange Case of the Origami Yoda is frequent narrator, Tommy. But, from my perspective, the star of the book is the creator and mouthpiece for the origami Yoda, the oddball, outcast Dwight. While he claims never to have seen the Star Wars movies, Dwight finds his origami Yoda, when perched atop of his finger, is a master at dispensing somewhat cryptic, yet mysteriously pertinent, advice. Tommy is desperate to get to the bottom of this phenomenon because he has a burning question to ask Yoda - if Yoda really is a wise piece of paper and not another odd expression of Dwight's oddball personality. Some of Yoda's advice is spot on, like his suggestion that Kellen splash water all over his pants after a mishap in the boys bathroom with a wet sink. This larger splash will mask the smaller, original splash that made it look like Kellen had wet his pants. However, some of Yoda's advice is off the wall, like the day when the only advice he dispenses, regardless of the question, is, "The Twist you must learn." So, Tommy decides to compile a case file and have each person who asked origami Yoda a question tell his or her story about the incident, allowing Harvey, the skeptic in the group, to add his perspective at the end of each case file. In the process, Kellen, another friend in this group of middling outcasts, adds his doodles to each case file. In addition to this, the pages of the book are printed to look like real paper, creases and all, with tiny, yet accurate sketches of tie-fighters and x-wing fighters in the lower corners. This adds to the authentic diary/journal look of the book, which I think is a major selling point for Jeff Kinney's books, and only serves to enhance the genuine voices of the characters.

Tommy's question pertains to a girl he has a crush on, as do many of the other questions asked of origami Yoda, and this kind of romantic tension is an ongoing theme in the book, albeit one that is VERY low key. Tom Angleberger walks a fine line in terms of age appropriate plot and reading level with The Strange Case of the Origami Yoda. Set in a school, the drama of the book has to come from either a boy-girl situation, a bully or possibly a mean teacher. The more books I review, the more I see the map of children's literature and what terrain can be covered in any given reading level. Real life stories, school stories especially, usually only have a couple of options when it comes to creating dramatic tension that will propel a plot, and that tension is often dictated by the reading level that the book is written at. With books written in a fantasy genre, even those at a second grade reading level, the possibilities for tension and drama and really bad bad guys is much greater. When basing a story in reality, there are certain lines you have to color inside of to keep your story real. Tom Angleberger does this so well I find it very hard to believe that this is his first book for young readers. His writing, although markedly different, is on par with the master of real life kid stories, Andrew Clements, author of one of my favorites, The School Story, among many others.

As I mentioned above, I really like the characters in The Strange Case of Origami Yoda, especially Dwight. Dwight does things like dig holes then sit in them, as Sara, his longtime neighbor and case file contributor, comments. He also lies down in inappropriate, odd places. When he wears a hideous holiday sweater vest to school, Kellen questions and goads Dwight into taking it off, but eventually apologizes when he realizes that Dwight is wearing it to impress a girl. In his investigative efforts, Tommy even probes into Dwight's backpack and personal life in an effort to prove that origami Yoda must be real because Dwight himself doesn't take Yoda's advice. He learns some interesting things about Dwight, but, in a genuinely kid-like way, he doesn't judge him or ostracize him. While other boys in the group wish Dwight wouldn't sit at their lunch table and have no problem when a new kid comes along and takes Dwight's seat, Tommy sticks up for him and maintains the status quo. The Strange Case of Origami Yoda ends where it began, at the monthly PTA sponsored McQuarrie Middle School Fun Night, music in the cafeteria, basketball in the gym, with Tommy wondering if he should ask Sara to dance. Afraid that she will reject him and his friends will laugh at him, and even more afraid that Dwight is using origami Yoda as a way to set him up for ridicule, Tommy overcomes his fears and decides to ask Sara to dance. As he is about to make his way over to her, Harvey points out that he doesn't know how to dance and will make a fool of himself even if Sara does agree to dance with him. Before Tommy can even begin to doubt himself, a piece of Yoda's advice that both he and Sara took proves very, very useful and unifying, giving this book a truly great ending. Did I mention how much I love this book?

The Night Fairy by Laura Amy Schlitz, illustrated by Angela Barrett, 117 pp, RL 3

Laura Amy Schlitz is a wonder to me. With The Night Fairy, illustrated by the magnificent Angela Barrett, Schlitz's fifth published book (sixth, really, if you count her now out of print regency romance from 1992 titled, Gypsy at Almack's, which I would love to get my hands on...) she takes her writing in yet another direction. Schlitz won the Newbery Award in 2008 for her collection of poetic monologues, Good Masters! Sweet Ladies! Voices from a Medieval Village, which begs to be read out loud or listened to on audio. Schlitz's young adult novel, A Drowned Maiden's Hair: A Melodrama is one of my favorite works of historical fiction. Set in 1909, Schlitz's main character Maude Flynn can go toe-to-toe with Anne Shirley any day. Schlitz has also taken on the Brothers Grimm with her retelling of The Bearskinner and a biography of the man who searched for the city of Troy in The Hero Schliemann: The Dreamer Who Dug for Troy.

With The Night Fairy, Schlitz presents us with a fairy tale. In her author's note Schlitz, who has spent most of her life working as a librarian and a professional storyteller, explains that, aside from loving fairies herself as a child, she was also motivated by the girls who came into the library where she works seeking books about fairies. Schlitz says, "They adore the prettiness of fairies, the miniature-ness, but they are also nature lovers and lovers of adventure. They are in fact quite interesting little girls - the future wild women of America. I couldn't help thinking that these little girls who love fairies deserve something lively." I love the idea that a writer who has a rich knowledge of children's literature and a connection with and understanding of young readers would channel her creativity into a book for girls. That said, I think that there is enough feistiness in Flory, the night fairy of the title, and more than enough action and adventure in the story to keep boys listening to it as a read out loud.

When the story begins, Flory has just been born a little bit before midnight, the time at which her magic will be strongest. But, being a newborn fairy, she is still quite weak and unsure of the ways of the world and has yet to find her way. As Schlitz writes, "Young fairies have no one to take care of them, because fairies make bad parents. Babies bore them. A Fairy godmother is an excellent thing, but a fairy mother is a disaster." It is because of this that Flory meets with her peril, as Schlitz refers to it. One night, when she is not even three months old yet and no bigger than an acorn, Flory is floating along on a cool spring breeze, her green wings glittering in the moonlight, when a bat mistakes her for a moth and swoops down on her. Being so young, Flory does not know a spell to protect her self and, before the she can get away from the bat her wings have been all but bitten off. Only one sensing feather remains. Flory manages to make her way to the safety of a wren house, which she decides to turn into a home. She also decides to become a Day Fairy instead of a Night Fairy because she will be safer and better fed if she can manage during the day. She also comes to love the various birds who come to the garden, as well as the other animals. As Flory grows older, she learns that she can cast spells - the stinging spell being most often employed. Along with the multitude of birds, there is a giant who visits the garden Flory lives in, bringing seeds and even sugar water.

As Flory makes a life for herself in the garden she befriends, although not in a very friendly way, a squirrel whom she names Skuggle and enlists as a helper. Theirs is a sort of brains and braun friendship based almost solely on food. When Flory sees a hummingbird for the first time she knows she wants a ride on one, the absence of her wings still and aching loss for her. She finally gets her wish when she comes across a hummingbird caught in a spider's web. Flory tries to negotiate with her, offering to help if the bird will promise to be "my very own hummingbird and let me ride on your back." Much to Flory's surprise, the hummingbird refuses saying, "I won't belong to you. I belong to myself. And I have eggs." Flory tries to bargain for the safety of the eggs, but the bird will still have none of it. Even though she cries and stamps her foot when she realizes she is not going to get what she wants, Flory knows she will help the bird. Flory does her best to help, even using a blanket from her own home and a spell to keep the eggs warm. But as night approaches, the dangers of the garden and rescue seem to be too much for Flory's diminutive size and skill. That is when some surprising help comes to her aid.

The Night Fairy is a perfect bedtime read out loud. A chapter a night, combined with Angela Barrett's rich illustrations will make for very good dreams. However, this is also the kind of book that a curious reader will be thrilled to stumble upon and slip into her pocket for reading curled up in a quiet place.

Readers who liked this book will also enjoy:

David Ellwand's Fairie-ality books that are full of amazing photographs of fairie houses and fairies fashion.

The Lost Flower Children by Janet Lisle.

Laura Amy Sclitz's other great books, two of which I have reviewed here.

I could only find the one image of the beautiful, delicate artwork by Angela Barrett for The Night Fairy, so I included some of her other work so you could get a taste of her magical imagery. her art work reminds me a bit of Paul Zelinksky's illustrations for the Caldecott winning Rapunzel and the Caldecott honor winning Rumplstiltskin.

April is National Poetry Month!

April is National Poetry

month and I am

stirring up a

pot of poems

steaming hot poems,

one for every day.

But this pot is so big

and I can't fill it alone

so if any one at home

could add to this stew,

I could really use

you.

Please send me POEMS! If you have personal favorites by other poets, if you have written your own poems, if you want to send me a video clip of you and/or your children reading a poem - poetry appropriate for children only, please - DO NOT HESITATE TO SHARE! I am going to post a poem-a-day for the whole month of April and reviews of books of poetry for children. There will also be posts on "Why Poetry Matters," "How to Read a Poem," "Picture Book Poetry," excellent links and lots more!

Meanwhile by Jason Shiga, 80 pages, RL 3

Meanwhile by Jason Shiga has to be the most amazing choose-your-own adventure story I have ever seen! As a kid, I loved the Choose Your Own Adventure Books, cheesy as they were, for their novelty. As a bookseller, I was thrilled to see them reprinted and back on the shelves a couple of years ago. These books are great enticements for reluctant readers. And, even better, they are now making early reader versions of this series. Meanwhile brilliantly combines the "pick a path" concept with some innovative comic book technology to make up a story that has 3,856 possible endings, secret codes and hidden pages!

It's best to let Meanwhile speak for it's self - you really have to rush out to the nearest bookstore or library and experience it first hand - but I can tell you a little bit about it. The story begins simply enough. Jimmy is at the ice cream shop trying to choose between chocolate or vanilla.....

The hooks on the tabs at the edge of the pages tell you where your story leads to, depending on how you choose. Their are no page numbers in the book. Being a graphic novel, Jason Shiga figured out a way to get from plot to plot with only visual cues. And, being a book that will be read OVER and OVER again, the publisher Amulet Books had the wisdom to print the book on thick, glossy pages.

Without giving too much away, I can tell you that the central plot revolves a run in with a professor who has invented three machines - the Killitron 2000, the SQUID, which can transfer memories between people, and a time travel machine. The professor offers Jimmy the chance to try out one of his inventions and the stories unfold from there. As Jason Shiga says in his introduction to the book, "Instead of one story, Meanwhile splits off into thousands of different adventures. Most will end in DOOM and DISASTER. Only one path will lead you to happiness and success." So, besides just being a great story, Meanwhile also has a challenge hidden in it's pages - the challenge to find the happy ending!

Besides myself, I have seen my adult coworkers and my five year old son (who cannot read yet) pore over this book again and again. My coworker even took to putting stickies on certain pages so he could keep track of the story lines. I have no doubt this book will be a hit. It is IDEAL for long car/plane/train rides and should appeal to boys and girls alike. And, finally, I just had to include this picture of Jason in front of his intricately mapped out story!

Northward to the Moon by Polly Horvath, 256 pp, RL 5

Northward to the Moon, Polly Horvath's sequel to the amazing My 100 Adventures, finds main character Jane Fielding one summer later, one year older and one parent richer. The cover illustration by Matt Mahurin, who also created the cover art for Allison Croggon's YA fantasy quartet, The Books of Pellinor perfectly captures the movement of the book and the unifying metaphor of the book.

When Northward to the Moon begins, thirteen year old Jane and her siblings Maya, Max and Herschel, all of whom have different, unnamed fathers, have spent a year living in Saskatchewan, seemingly a world away from their house on the beach in Massachusetts. Their mother, Pulitzer-prize winning poet, Felicity Fielding, has married Ned and moved her family across the continent and to another country because he has found a job teaching French in an elementary school. It is May and Ned has just been fired from his job because he doesn't know how to speak French and he and Jane are ready for an adventure. An old friend of his, a member of the Carrier tribe of Native Americans, is dying and has asked to see Ned again. Unflappable and seemingly unfazed by any situation life presents her with, Felicity packs the house and the four children into the station wagon for what turns into a long road trip and an even longer journey into Ned's background.

Jane and her siblings have grown up with only their mother and themselves to rely on, making friends, some good, some not so good, with the townspeople. The visit to Mary reveals a whole family and a past of Ned's that they never knew about, one that leads them first to Las Vegas, then to a horse ranch outside of Elko, Nevada and finally back to their beach house again. In My 100 Adventures, it was summertime in a small town and Jane was free to roam as she liked and pursue her adventures. In Northward to the Moon, Jane is trapped, almost, much more at the mercy of the adults in her life and much less able to make her own way. Excited by the thought of an adventure and happy to have Ned in the lead, she makes the best of every situation they find themselves in. But, when she feels that Ned betrays her, she is alone amidst a sea of adults. Because (flawed) adult characters are always a part of Horvath's writing, there is bound to be content in her books that will concern some parents. In My 100 Adventures there is the fact that Jane and her three siblings all have different fathers, however the implications of this are left for the reader to untangle, or not. In Northward to the Moon, Jane develops a serious crush on Ben, a silent but muscular young ranch hand who seems to be pointedly ignoring her. Jane fantasizes about being thrown off a horse and having Ben rescue her and, at one point one of Ned's sisters refers to him as "sex-on-a-stick." That is about as racy as things get, though, and Jane's crush is crushed when, after concocting an elaborate plan to get Ben to teach her to ride, she overhears Ned saying to him, "Why don't you just give poor Jane a break already and take her riding? Anyone can see she's got a huge crush on you." Ben winces, Jane runs. It is when here mother takes her on what is meant to be a healing horse back ride, Jane realizes that Ned, "just wanted adventures to get away from things. I wanted adventures to get to things."

Early on in the book, as they are driving at night down a stretch of tree-lined highway, Jane notices that the "moon dangles tantalizingly at the end of the road as if it hangs just beyond the earth's edge." She imagines that there is a little known highway that leads right to the moon where very "daring and stylish" teenagers from the 1960s circle the landscape, trying to find their way back to earth. Polly Horvath has a poetically visual imagination that permeates her characters and their take on life, and Jane is no exception. She tries to get Maya to join in on this fantasy but Maya has become increasingly irritable and close-minded over the course of their year away from home. The negative effects that the choices of the adults have on the children in their lives are much more evident in Northward to the Moon than they were in My 100 Adventures, and, while Jane suffers a bruised heart, eight year old Maya seems at the greatest risk of being undone by the circumstances. In the first chapter of the book, in some of Horvath's most memorable writing, Jane talks about "place memory," and how her internal landscape is made up of the beach and marshes surrounding their house in Massachusetts. When noting how immediately Hershel, who is six, and Max, who is four, have taken to Saskatchewan, she realizes that, "if they grow up here they will be prairie boys. This will be their place memory of growing up. It will separate us in a fundamental way. As if we belong to different places, they to the prairies and me to the ocean. As if at some stage early in our development, out hearts take root in the landscape that surrounds us and remain rooted there all our lives, even when we're not." Maya's heart, it seems, has not taken root in a place yet. In fact, it seems that Maya's place memory may be rooted in people, not geography, if that is possible. For reasons that no one can fathom, Maya has become attached to Ned's mother, Dorothy, a woman who, after her husband walked out on her, packed up her eight children when they were little and moved them to a forsaken town for reasons they still wonder over. As Ned, Jane and Maya drive Dorothy home one night towards the end of their journey, Maya becomes excited about the moon. As at the start of their adventure, it hangs full and round over the road and looks like you could drive to it. Dorothy says to Maya, "I know exactly what you are talking about! I've seen that too! A moon you can drive to... I had all the kids in the car and we were headed north away from Edmonton and I didn't know where we were going, I just knew we weren't going back there, and I thought, That's where we'll go. I can drive all the way to the moon. We'll just keep going to the moon." Hearing this answer to the long unanswered question is what begins to heal things with Ned for Jane.