The Secret Science Alliance by Eleanor Daivs, 160 pp, RL 4

The Secret Science Alliance, by Geisel Award winner (for her excellent beginning reader comic book, Stinky) Eleanor Davis is beyond amazing. The plot easily could have taken up a couple of hundred pages of a traditional (illustrationless) young adult novel. The depth of the personalities of the three main characters, as well as a few secondary characters is also equal to any good young adult novel I have read. The incredible thing is that Davis conveys this with a mere fraction of the number of words used in a traditional novel! Davis's illustrations, charts, maps, grids and guides (some of which overlap each other as if they are fighting for prominence) tell the story and give life to the characters through images more than with words. It definitely takes a shift in perception to take in this wonderful book in all its glory, but any extra effort is well worth the exertion!

I have to admit, I didn't read comics as a kid, and I have a degree in Literature so, when I read a chapter book with lots and lots of pictures, I feel like I am somehow cheating. I feel like I am indulging in a guilty pleasure - reading a little chick lit in between Virginia Woolf and George Eliot. However, when I turned the last page of The Secret Science Alliance, which I was not able to read in one sitting, I felt like I had read a traditional novel and my ideas about comic books and their value began to expand and explode. Because there are so many aspects to the plot and character details, I know I will not be able to do justice to the amazing story and illustrations that make up The Secret Science Alliance. I hope you will read my interview with Eleanor Davis to get a better feel for everything that goes in to creating a graphic novel. I was so enchanted and entranced by her books and her remarkable skill at weaving plot into the illustrations of her graphic novels (which I learned are also referred to Sequential Art, which I think the the perfect name for them) that I had to pick her brain and, especially, discuss my feelings of "cheating" when I read comics and how I can develop a deeper appreciation for this amazing art form that is relatively new to me. Here is Eleanor's response, which I found extremely enlightening and helpful:

"Well, every artwork needs to be judged on its own merits. But there are really good comics out that are excellent works of art. Most people think of film as being a fine art form, and most movies take under two hours to watch. A great piece of music can be only a couple minutes long. A timeless painting, or a lovely haiku, can be taken in even more quickly. Every art form is unique, with it's own benefits and limitations.

Likewise, when I first saw The Seven Samurai I felt weird - it was supposed to be a great film, but it was so fun to watch! The idea that anything good has to be hard work is pernicious for sure, and has resulted in a lot of bad art whose creators think they just have to be really boring and oblique.

Additionally, people new to comics often read them too quickly because they aren't used to really looking at the pictures - they just skip from word balloon to word balloon. It can take some time to learn to read comics slowly, looking at every image and letting it speak for itself.

Like any work of art, I judge a comic by the emotions it makes me feel, whether it stays with me and I find myself thinking about it after I'm done, and whether I find myself revisiting it again and again."

While I know that I am definitely guilty of reading graphic novels too fast, I can tell you that it is almost impossible to read The Secret Science Alliance too fast. There is so much going on in every page and every panel. I absolutely love maps and The Secret Science Alliance doesn't disappoint. Even where there isn't an actual map on a page, the layout and overlap of the illustrations sometimes feels map-like. As the review at the great kid's book site 100 Scope Notes astutely notes,

"Every element of The Secret Science Alliance, down to the use of word bubbles and panels, has been carefully considered and fully realized. The amount of detail makes the mind reel. Cut-aways and diagrams are liberally used, encouraging readers to pore over pages at close range. Not a spread goes by without some sort of unique way of moving the story ahead. Panels that are the shape of arrows, pointing you in the right direction. Panels in the form of clouds when Julian is daydreaming. Panels waived altogether, allowing objects to lay on the page as if they were sitting on a table. It’s a joy to see what comes next."

The plot follows Julian Calendar, Ultra Nerd (diagram of ultra nerdiness can be found on page 4) as he starts out as the new guy at Mosburg Junior High. Convinced he needs to hide his super smarts and love of all things science so that he can make friends, Julian fails miserably. But, he does attract the notice of Greta Hughes, notorious rebel, and Ben Garza, über-jock with a secret passion for invention. A note written in polyalphabetic cypher brings Julian, Greta and Ben together and The Secret Science Alliance is born! Ben and Greta have built a secret hide-out/laboratory where they think and create and Julian fits right in. When a run-in with a cranky, local scientist results in the theft of their Invention Notebook, the SSA springs into action. There are daring break-ins, break-outs and a thwarted theft. There is also a climactic fight atop a life-size model of a wooly mammoth and a clever trap that involves a secret solvent (vinegar, orange soda and laundry detergent) for the release of the bad guy. Every aspect of this book, from the inventions that Great, Ben and Julian make to the exhibits in the Mosburg History Museum where Greta's dad, Dr Hughes, is the curator and the character of Andro Kablovsky, a scientist and inventor who, if not for his anxieties, could have been more famous than Thomas Edison if he had only made it to the Grand Inventourament of 1897, is rich with detail and information. You will be stunned. Your kids will read it over and over again, discovering something new each time.

And, speaking of detail, I would also like to note that Davis's book has the most integrated cast of characters I have seen in a work of fiction for young adults. The main characters alone would be considered more than representative, but Davis includes secondary characters who are in wheel chairs, different styles of dress and hairstyle as well as a few pranks on the adults in the story, but I'll let the kids find those on their own!

For more information on Eleanor Davis and her husband, Drew Weing, also an artist and creator of graphic novels, check out Little House Comics. And, again, I urge you to read my interview with Eleanor to learn what goes through her head and what she's working on next!

The Secret History of Mermaids by Professor Ari Berk, illustrated by Wayne Anderson, Gary Chalk, Matt Dangler and Virginia Lee

Once again, the remarkable academics of Professor Ari Berk and multifaceted artistry that made The Secret History of Giants a treasure of a book come together to bring us The Secret History of Mermaids and Creatures of the Deep, another look into the archives of the Order of the Golden Quills. Like the Ology series of books published by Candlewick Press, Berk's Secret Histories (a series, I hope?) is filled with the same scholarly bits of folklore from around the world, gatefolds, flaps and books within the book, and magnificent artwork from a longtime favorite of mine and contributor to The Secret History of Giants, Wayne Anderson, returning artist Gary Chalk and new favorites, Virginia Lee and Matt Dangler. As we learned in The Secret History of Giants, the Order of the Golden Quills is a group of archivists, scribes, lore wardens and guardians of long forgotten knowledge who exist to record and protect the mysteries of the secret folk. The Secret History of Mermaids and Creatures of the Deep begins with this admonition, "Pollution of the world's waters and depletion of fish populations have led to growing tensions between merfolk and humans. It is the Order's intention to share with you all knowledge of the merfolk - their magic and enchantments, culture and language, customs and curiosities, and their unparalleled understanding of the deep - so that favorable relations with our sea cousins may be restored." The Order of the Golden Quills conducts studies and houses artifacts in a castle built centuries ago by giants and dwarves, with a secret entrance in a very dangerous to access sea cave. In case you are thinking of visiting, the castle is open to the public from midnight to 7 am on the last day of February, every third leap year.

The book begins by discussing the origins of the merfolk and Atargatis, as imagined by Virginia Lee, whose name may mean "the goddess fish, Atar." Known as the Sea Mother, the Bright One or the Star that Fell to Sea, she is considered the mother of all merfolk and her name is venerated in the deepest zones. There is even a mention of Charles Darwin, who speculated that humans were descended from merfolk who left the sea, however his theory was rejected by the Plinian Society. Anatomy, language and communication, including useful sayings and charms, and songs are each given two page spreads. Merfolk villages are detailed and described as is a mermaid's cave. Apparently some merfolk enjoy living in villages while others seek a life of solitude and retreat to caves. When they are lonely, they will sometimes venture to the shore in search of a human companion to bring below, which leads me to Cohuleen Druith, or Enchanted Caps, which are made exclusively by shoal witches using kelp, fish skin, or the sailcloth from shipwrecks and are often dyed red. They allow Sea Folk to breath on land or Land Folk to breathe under water, depending on the cap. These caps and their construction are detailed in a two page spread on Sea Enchantments which includes a double gatefold depiction of magical objects and occurrences. Another exciting discovery I made was the existence of lugh varry, or Tide Mice. Merfolk sometimes make gifts of Tide Mice to humans. A net is woven from mermaid hair and left to float on the ocean over the spot where a treasure wreck lies below. When the Tide Mice, who love to nest in sunken ships, become caught in the net, the human can take it home and, if it is allowed to sleep on top of a gold coin, will produce a new one every day it is held in captivity. However, a lugh varry must be returned to the ocean before it's keeper dies or it will bring about horrible storms called "mouse squalls."

There are many, many other fascinating aspects of undersea life described in this book, including a map of merfolk sightings, sea zones and hazards, stories of encounters with sea folk and a passage on the dark history of merfolk in captivity. There is a passage on selkies, merfolk artifacts, weapons, sea creatures, both gentle and dangerous, weapons, vengeance, curses and lost lands, including Atlantis and Lyonesse. Having read The Secret History of Giants, I assumed that The Secret History of Mermaids and Creatures of the Deep was based on actual folklore and not entirely fabricated. Even so, I decided to do a bit of informal checking around. I was able to find historical evidence of everything that I searched for and was especially pleased to find this photograph of the pew depicting the Mermaid of Zennor, which can be found in the village of Zennor, Cornwall, in a church that dates back to the 13th century. The story behind the pew is marvelous and retold in The Secret History of Mermaids and Creatures of the Deep.

For any child (or adult) with a rich fantasy life rooted in fairy tales and folklore, The Secret History of Mermaids and Creatures of the Deep (as well as The Secret History of Giants) is a MUST. It is by far one of the most visually appealing and engaging books I have seen in a long time. I actually prefer the smaller format of Professor Berk's books over the larger editions of the Ologies books. The information and artwork are condensed in a way that makes the books feel more magical, scholarly and special. Readers who are fascinated by merfolk should be sure to read Eva Ibbotson's Island of the Aunts, which is chock full of mermaids, selkies, kraken and other creatures of the deep. There are two other mermaid series written at the fourth and fifth grade reading levels which are very popular right now, although I have not read them - yet. Ingo, Tide Knot and The Deep, by Helen Dunmore and are set on the Cornish coast. Liz Kessler, author of the Emily Windsnap series brings a different perspective to ocean life with her books.

Scepter of the Ancients, Skulduggery Pleasant Series, Book 1, by Derek Landy, illustrations by Tom Percival, 416 pp, RL 4

The Skulduggery Pleasant series by Derek Landy, illustrations by Tom Percival, despite the fact that it is currently only three books long, has had three different cover designs as well as a title change since book one, Scepter of the Ancients (the new title of the first book in the series) was published in 2007. Since I often judge a book by it's cover, this phenomenon caught my eye right away. The above covers are my favorite - the girl in the illustration, Stephanie, is one of the main characters and also one of the coolest girls in young adult fantasy fiction to come along in a while. The cover to the left is my second favorite, since it still gives you a little taste for the character of Skulduggery Pleasant, the coolest skeleton detective to hit the pages, ever. The covers at the bottom of the review are the newest incarnations of the books. And, while they are attractive, I'm not sure that they fully convey all the wonderful, creative details that make up the books. But how many covers really do that anyway?

While this series has equal gender appeal, what I love most about it is the character of Dublin resident, Stephanie Edgely, who is twelve when the series begins. For me, Stephenie and this series of books is most readily calls to mind to Eoin Colfer's phenomenal Artemis Fowl series. Whereas Colfer's main characters, aside from Fowl and his family, are mythical creatures who possess certain degrees of magical powers but rely heavily on technological spy gear and weaponry to battle evil forces, Landy's main characters are humans who have learned the craft of magic (and been adversely affected by it in some cases) and posses the skills to imbue everyday objects (cars, clothing, mirrors) with it in their constant efforts to fight the evil forces that continually want to exert their power over the human race. Stephanie, although she is not a child genius like Artemis, is a very savvy girl who yearns for a break in her quiet, middle class, only child life. She gets this break when her Uncle Gordon, her father's brother, dies unexpectedly. Gordon Edgely was a world famous, best selling author of adult horror novels, someone along the lines of a Stephen King, I imagine. As a young man, his interests and friends took him away from his more staid brothers, Desmond and Fergus, resulting in a family that was not especially close knit, although certainly not estranged. Stephanie, however, loved her Uncle very much and spent quite a bit of time with him at his estate, nearby her home in Haggard, Ireland. Always a bit precocious, Stephanie has read all of her Uncle's books and enjoyed them. At the reading of Gordon's will, she is shocked to learn that, upon her eighteenth birthday, she will inherit most of his estate and wealth. Shortly thereafter, she is surprised, but not shocked, to learn that most of the events and creatures Gordon wrote about in his books are real, that magic exists and that Gordon hovered on the edge of a group of magicians who battled to keep order in the world.

While the battle of good versus evil in the world of fantasy is a well worn theme, Derek Landy brings many clever twists to his characters and their magical attributes. First, Landy is brilliant when it comes to character names. As Stephanie learns in Book 1, Scepter of the Ancients, everyone "has three names: the name they are born with, the name they are given and the name they take. The name they are born with, their true name, lies buried deep in their subconscious. The name they are given, usually by their parents, is the only name most people will ever know. But this name can be used against them, so sorcerers must take a third name to protect themselves." By the middle of Book 1, Stephanie has chosen her name and, when Book 2, Playing with Fire, begins, she is referred to by this name almost exclusively. Some of the great names from this series that occasionally had me pulling out my dictionary are Skulduggery Pleasant, of course, China Sorrows, Ghastly Bespoke, Sagacious Tome, Serpine Nefarian, Vaurien Scapegrace, Billy Ray Sanguine, the mysterious Mr Bliss, I could go on and on.

As for magic, Derek Landy's characters can really cook up some creepy stuff. The magicians' Sanctuary, which is secretly (brilliantly) housed in the Dublin Waxworks Museum, is guarded by Cleavers who, with their grey helmets that hide their faces are, "security guards, enforcers, and army rolled into one." The bad guy in book one, Serpine, who already has an army of Hollow Men, papery, human-like fighting guards, manages to create a White Cleaver, even deadlier and harder to stop than the originals. There is also the underground cavern that is full of tentacle laden, beastly menaces which is where the Scepter of the Ancients, the seat of the power wielded by the Faceless Ones, the first and most powerful magicians, is hidden. China Sorrows, an enchantingly beautiful woman, runs a very useful library full of magical tomes she has collected. And, finally, there is the manner in which the characters perform magic themselves. As Stephanie begins to learn basic magic, much of which requires power of the mind, Landy does a wonderful job describing this process. When Stephanie attempts to levitate up to her second floor window upon returning home, Landy writes, "She took her time, felt the calmness flow through her. She flexed her fingers, feeling the air touch her skin, feeling the fault lines between the spaces. She felt how they connected, and recognized how each would affect the other once the right amount of pressure was applied... She splayed her hands beneath her, and the air rippled and she shot upward, just managing to grab the windowsill." Upon arriving in her room, Stephanie encounters the other super-cool bit of magic Landy has conjured up - the reflection. After casting a spell on Stephanie's full length bedroom mirror, the image becomes her "reflection," a surface copy of Stephanie that, when invited to do so, steps out of the mirror and lives Stephanie's life for her while she runs around town fighting villains with Skulduggery. Her reflection goes to school, has dinner with her parents but has no thoughts or feelings of her own. When the real Stephanie comes home and encounters her reflection, all of the events of the reflection's day come flooding back into her. Imagine if we could all have reflections, how much we could get done....

Despite the cover changes and a much higher level of physical action (read: fights) than I am used to in a novel, I could not put these books down and, now that I have finished them, I find myself thinking about characters and passages from the stories often. Since I began my blog, I rarely read more than the first book in a series, and that was my intention with the Skulduggery Pleasant books, but I ended up reading them all. I have to admit, I am a naive and hopeful reader when it comes to books, kid's books especially. I want every book I read (for review) to leave the reader feeling warm, fuzzy and cheerful about being part of the human race. I also want the book to be well written and profound. This attitude probably accounts for my gradual, unconscious decision to stop reading adult fiction. Well written adult books tend to focus on the ways in which we screw up our lives more than the ways in which we make them better. While I wish I could say that the Skulduggery Pleasant books meet my unsophisticated ideals and are literature on the level of Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials Trilogy, I can't. However, after much thought I realized that these books, all books, don't have to meet my high minded ideals to be worthwhile, readable and, above all, enjoyable - which is exactly what the Skulduggery Pleasant books are. Derek Landy's writing is highly entertaining and not without serious content and value. While he doesn't tackle philosophical and theistic issues the way Pullman's books do, he doesn't have to. Landy has created complex characters with faults, values and goals - despite their lack of musculature and epidermis, in some cases...

Three (more) Frogs Worth Knowing...

I know, the two amphibians REALLY worth knowing are Arnold Lobel's brilliant creations, Frog and Toad. However, I think there is enough room in the world of children's literature for a few more frogs on the shelf...

A Froggy Fable , John Lechner's first pictue book, tells the story of a frog who is frustrated by the changes going on all around him. Without giving the whole story away, I can say that, in the end, he discovers that some changes aren't so bad after all. Simply told and elegantly voiced, A Froggy Fable works on many levels without being didactic once. I have never been a fan of children's books that claim to teach a lesson, celebrity authored picture books and The Berenstain Bears being at the top of my list, but John Lechner's book, just like Arnold Lobel's, can be used to "teach a lesson" - if you want it to. And, if you don't want it to, it's a great read out loud and one you will never tire of sharing.

John Lechner is also the author of the excellent forest based kind-of comic book Sticky Burr series as well as his second picture book, also set in a forest, the magical Clever Stick which, like A Froggy Fable, has a subtle lesson woven into a wonderful story.

On the surface, Algy Craig Hall's marvelous Fine As We Are reads like another parable to help children cope with change - especially the change brought about by the arrival of a new sibling. But really, I think the same important ideas that John Lechner presents in A Froggy Fable are also in action in Fine As We Are. We are all capable of learning to accept changes and change can be a good thing. It seems simple, but for little people who see the world in concrete, black and white divisions (read: happy as a clam or pitching a major hissy fit) I think that this concept bears repeating in as many soothing ways as possible and Algy Hall's book, in addition to fitting in with my frog theme, does just that.

Hall's book, his first for children, begins with a very happy Little Frog and his loving mother, and I have to tell you, the depictions of affection between Little Frog and his mother are very sweet. I don't know how Hall manages to convey such love with simple line drawings of frogs, but he does. One day, as mom and Little Frog sit on a rock by the pond she asks him (as most of us foolishly do at some point in our parenting careers), "Would you like a baby brother or a sister?" Little Frog responds, "No. We're just fine as we are." Mom begins to look worried, stricken even, and the reader notices the multitude of frog eggs floating gently at the surface of the water just beneath the rock upon which this conversation takes place. There is no turning back now, and the illustrations of the gaggle of joyously jumping froglets is enchantingly rendered, as are all the illustrations in this book, but these especially so. The pictures I could find do not do Hall's art justice at all.

Mom seems pleased with this hoard of newcomers, so Little Frog tries to adapt. However, they follow him everywhere, are really noisy and, worst of all, eat his breakfast before Little Frog has a chance to. "They only want to be like you," mom says, trying to get Little Frog to see the other side of the situation. "But it's not fair!" Little Frog responds. Mom can't hear him amidst the noise of the babies, though. Hall captures the reality of sibling rivalry and parenting more than one child sublimely. That he himself is a parent as well one of many siblings who grew up in a large family is evident in the precision with which he tells his tale. When Little Frog finally finds ways to love his siblings (playing Leap Frog, naturally) he says to his mom, "We are the biggest family in the world." She answers cautiously, "Do you think we are too big?" "No," says Little Frog, "We're just fine as we are." And this book is more than just fine as it is, it is worth buying and reading over and over again to each and every one of your children.

Stick is the first picture book by Steve Breen, the Pulitzer Prize winning editorial cartoonist (in 1998 and in 2009), and author of the strip Grand Avenue. First of all, I have to tell you how gorgeous this book is - both painterly and expressive by turns. The layout of Stick is evocative of David Wiesner's books and, like his Caldecott winners Tuesday, Flotsam and The Three Pigs, it is largely without words and needs to be added to my list of books in my article How to Read a Book Without Words (Out Loud).

The book begins in an efflorescent swamp with two frogs on a lily pad and the words, "Stick liked to do things on his own..." From there we watch as he tries to snag his own lunch only to be snagged and dragged on a journey that is mapped out on the end papers of the book. A failed attempt to have a dragonfly for lunch takes Stick on the flight of his life, out of the swamp and through New Orleans, among other stops. The fun of the book is guessing what form of transportation will Stick be stuck on next as he goes from dragonfly to balloons to model airplane. The reactions of the people and animals he encounters on his journey are also a hoot. The author information at the back of the book reveals that Steve Breen has long been fascinated by the Deep South and was about to embark on his first trip there to do research for Stick when Hurricane Katrina struck. In honor of all those who lost their lives and homes, he is donating a portion of his royalties to a Katrina-related disaster-relief organization. That and the fact that this delightful book is now available in paperback make it a must-have!

Scream Street Series by Tommy Donbavand, illustrated by Cartoon Saloon, 116 pages

I have to confess, I probably would not have even given this series a second look if it had not been close to Halloween. But, having read the first two books in the Scream Street series, I'm glad I did. While the series name and titles of British author Tommy Donbavand's books (the first two in the series have just released in the States) sound a bit gruesome, the plots rarely are. As Donbavand says of his books, "Imagine if Stephen King had written Scooby Doo," and this definitely rings true. While the blood, fangs and rotting flesh are present but low key, the books are rich with imaginative details and humorous twists on otherwise gory subject matter. When I was a kid, horror stories were the province of adult novels, which Donbavand ended up reading as a kid in order to feed his interests. I was fascinated by ghosts and witches, but their stories made up a small fraction of the books on the shelf in my elementary school library. The great John Bellairs, author of The House with the Clock in its Walls, among many other great gothic novels for young readers, dominated my experience of the supernatural as a child. Even horror movies were not as plentiful when I was a kid. Because of this, I never really developed an appreciation for the genre and it has not been a part of my children's lives. However, vampires, werewolves and mummies are a pretty large part of the current young adult/teen literary world and can no longer be ignored. Also, I think that it is a fairly normal part of childhood to be fascinated by myths, legends and creatures that hover on the edge of reality. Most people, in general, like the thrill of a good scare from time to time, be it from a roller coaster or a suspenseful book or movie, and I think kids crave this as well.

Tommy Donbavand's Scream Street has a very creative premise and, as the plot unfolded in books one and two, I found myself reminded of Michael Buckley's excellent series, Sisters Grimm. Written at approximately a third grade reading level, this series fills a relatively empty niche. For some reason, the bulk of books on the shelf seem to jump from second grade Magic Tree House type books to fourth grade reading level and higher books of 300 pages an more, like the Sisters Grimm series. Scream Street, along with Cornelia Funke's Ghosthunters series and Angie Sage's Araminta Spookie books, make up a tidy triumvirate of creepy, spine tingling stories at this reading level. Scream Street, which is illustrated by the Lilly Bernard of the Irish artistic collective Cartoon Saloon, introduces us to the unusual cast of characters, all of whom are depicted in a "Meet the Residents" picture gallery at the front of each book.

In the first pages of book 1, Fang of the Vampire, the main character, Luke Watson, finds himself and his parents packed up, knocked out and shipped off to a new home on Scream Street by purple clad, masked members of G.H.O.U.L. G.H.O.U.L., which Luke later learns stands for Government Housing of Unusual Lifeforms, has discovered that, ever since his tenth birthday a few months back, Luke has begun to transform into a werewolf, albeit only partially, when he gets angry. Because of this, he and his family are forcibly moved onto the reservation for the un-dead and other assorted creepies. Once there, he and his parents suffer a poltergeist attack as well as a visit from their vampire neighbors, Alston, Bella and Resus Negative. Both incidents seem to be equally upsetting to Mr and Mrs Watson and Luke quickly realizes that his parents have to leave Scream Street soon or possibly be scared to death. Luke quickly befriends Resus, who is actually a "normal" who dyes his hair black and wears fake fangs so that he can fit in with his family and neighbors, and the Egyptian mummy, Cleo Farr, who has almost no pain threshold, perhaps because, as she is fond of pointing out, most of her organs are stored in a jar. Cleo is quite a kick and I look forward to more from her as the series progresses and all the characters, really. Despite the reading level and length of this book, I felt that Donbavand did an excellent job giving depth and humor to Luke, Cleo and Resus. The emotions experienced by Luke when he realizes his parents can't cope with where his condition has taken them and the sense of responsibility that he feels are palpable and purposeful, as are the emotions and the embarrassment of being the "black sheep" in the neighborhood that Resus experiences.

Although the inhabitants of Scream Street are unable to leave due to a spell placed on the neighborhood, Luke, Resus and Cleo learn that Samuel Skipstone, one of the original inhabitants, wrote a book (that he then confined his soul to, upon his death, so that he could continue the research that he loved as well as imbuing the book with magical properties, including the ability to talk and generate 3-dimensional, talking illustrations/ghosts) with the keys to opening a back to the normal world. Luke, Cleo and Resus steal the book from Sir Otto Sneer and his shape-shifting nephew, Dixon. Sneer is the tyrannical overseer of Scream Street who is gradually taking away all of the comforts of the residents, from their personal belongings to their electricity. The three learn what they need to do to open the doorway, which includes finding artifacts from all six of the founding fathers and mothers of Scream Street, and the quest begins. Donbavand has added some very clever and amusing twists to the books. Resus, even though he is not a real vampire, has a magical cape that seems to contain almost all of the things the three need in their adventures. He has also conjured up an unruly gang of goblins who work for Sneer. Led by Squiffer, their greatest defense (and ultimate downfall, thanks to a small, enclosed room and a torch that Resus pulls from his cape) is the noxious, green gas that they expel from their goblin bums. There are faucets that deliver blood to the homes of the vampires (where the blood comes from is too gross to explain) and swarms of vampire rats in the sewers. There are also some very funny and intriguing supporting characters. Although at times it sounds like he is channeling the laid-back turtle dad from Finding Nemo, Doug, the giggling zombie, is hilarious. He pops up from the ground, all scabby and oozing, and says things like, "Far out, little vampire dude!" and will do almost anything for a brain smoothie or spinal fluid. Eefa Everwell, proprietor of Everwell's Emporium, is an enchantingly beautiful witch (due to a spell she cast) who does what she can to help the three emerge victorious. Finally, there is Dixon, the sycophantic nephew and toady to Sir Otto Sneer. His shape shifting ability makes for some surprises and scares for Luke, Resus and Cleo as well as some funny bits.

If your child begs you to read something creepy and a little bit gory, I think that this humorous, inventive, well written series is the one to choose. And, if your kids enjoy it, there are short stories to be read on the Scream Street website. There will be 13 books in this series (naturally) and books 5 and 6 just out in England. Books 3 and 4 will be out in the United States in February 2010.

Strawberry Hill by Mary Ann Hoberman, illustrations by Wendy Anderson Halpern, 230 pp RL 3

After reading Mary Ann Hoberman's picture books and now her first young adult novel, Strawberry Hill, I wish she was my grandmother. Even better, I wish she was my kids' grandmother. If you don't already feel this way about her after reading her many picture and poetry books , including on of my all-time favorites,Seven Silly Eaters, and knowing that she is the current Children's Poet Laureate, you will by the time you finish her impressive, uplifting first novel. And, as always, Hoberman is paired with the perfect illustrator. This time, Wendy Anderson Halperin, illustrator of Cynthia Rylant's Cobble Street Cousins series for early readers, matches her gentle, cozy but intricate artwork with Hoberman's semi-autobiographical story.

I have to admit, when I first read the jacket flap for Strawberry Hill it did not grab me, and, as Elizabeth Deveraux writes in her excellent but brief review of the book for The New York Times Book Review, "The virtues of "Strawberry Hill" may not be immediately apparent from the synopsis of the plot." Set during the Depression, the story follows the narrator, Alice (who goes by Allie) Sherman and her family as they move from New Haven, CT to Stamford when her father gets a new job. Upset at first, Allie warms up to the idea when she learns that their new house is on a street named Strawberry Hill. Like all children, she begins to imagine what a street named Strawberry Hill must look like, from the stone wall and white picket fence to the fields of strawberries that must be on a hill, perfect for rolling down. When they arrive at their new house and Allie's vision does not match reality, she is devastated. At this point, Chapter 5 to be exact, I knew that I was reading a unique book. Allie's experience with imagining one thing and living another recalled vivid memories (and disappointments) from my childhood. This is the first of many incidences in Strawberry Hill in which Hoberman presents childhood experiences, dilemmas and let-downs in a manner that is superbly accurate and genuinely expressed by her characters. I felt like this was one of the few young adult novels I have read in which an authentic child was narrating, not an adult speaking through a child's voice. Similarly, Devereaux notes that "Hoberman maintains an exquisite balance between Allie's perspsective and that of the adults around her, allowing for both a child's way of thinking and a polished narration."

Allie's year continues on in this way, with little bumps, happy moments and a few more upsetting experiences over the course of fourth grade. Allie has two new neighbors, both girls her age, who present very different challenges and rewards. Martha, the next door neighbor, is Catholic and goes to parochial school, not Center School where Allie and their other neighbor, Mimi, will go in the fall. Allie and Mimi are both Jewish and, as Allie thinks to herself after Martha tells her that she prays to our Holy Father and Jesus Christ, "I was really shocked. I had always thought that Jesus and Christ were swear words." Because Hoberman has done such a remarkable job crafting the character and voice of Allie, this thought is so clearly one of genuine candor and not irony or knowingness on the part of the author, that you read it for what it is. Allie and Martha manage not to let their religious differences come between them. What does come between them is the spoiled Cynthia, school friend of Martha's, who accuses Allie of cheating at a game the girls are playing and calls her a "dirty Jew." How this is resolved by the adults and children involved is realistic but the event does not become the center of the book, just as it does not become the center of Allie's life. In fact, Allie is more embarrassed by her mother's response than the insult itself. Despite this, Allie, who left behind a best friend in New Haven, thinks Martha might fill the spot. Even though Allie notices aspects of Martha's character that she dislikes, including lying, she persists in her belief that Martha is a good friend. In addition to going back to being best friends with Cynthia after promising to be Allie's best friend, Martha learns that Cynthia is cheating on her spelling tests at school and does nothing about it. After learning this, Allie begins to see things differently. She thinks about what Martha told her and, "suddenly I knew what else was wrong. It was that she still wanted to be best friends with someone like Cynthia, someone who could be so nasty and who cheated, besides. And then I wondered something else. I wondered why I still wanted to be best friends with someone who still wanted to be best friends with someone like Cynthia."

Mimi Minnick, the sensitive, overweight neighbor who will be repeating third grade because of her low reading skills, is the counterpoint to Martha. Mimi's father has moved out of their run-down house leaving her alone with her Mrs Minnick who is fat and sits at the kitchen table smoking, drinking coffee and listening to her programs on the radio all day. We all know that children notice and comment freely on differences, such as being overweight, having a disability or different skin color. What I have not encountered before is a children's book in which the child narrator notices these differences and makes sense of them in her own way by the end of the novel. At the end of school picnic, Allie notices that there are other "fat [mothers], too, some even as fat as Mrs Minnick," but that, Mrs Minnick, who has had her hair done and put on lipstick, isn't as noticeably overweight in her new dress. Then she remembers the mother of her best friend in New Haven who was overweight as well, but was also "warm and funny and friendly." What I admire most about Hoberman's gift as a storyteller is that she does not tidy up the scene by having Allie think something along the lines of, "Mrs Minnick looks nice today and maybe there is nothing wrong with being fat." In fact, there is nowhere in the book where she even once expresses, through Allie's voice or anyone else's, the idea that there is anything at all wrong with being overweight or compare overweight characters to thin ones. It is nothing more than a difference, in the story and in Allie's observations. Hoberman is letting the reader make her own conclusions.

While I have focused on the relationships and struggles between the characters in the book, the Depression does play a part in the story as well. However, as observed by Allie, its effects of on her family and those around her are subtle ones that she notices in her own quiet way. Hobos who stop at the back door for food, children who's fathers have left home to look for work, children who take jobs to help support the family and families who can't afford to buy packaged cookies are all aspects of Strawberry Hill that give readers a sense of the difficult time period in American history. When Allie empties her piggy bank to buy a copy of Mary Poppins for Mimi, her savings total $1.16, which is almost enough to buy the hardcover book. This is almost 1/15 the cost of Strawberry Hill, but the dynamics of inflation probably isn't something that most kids will be interested in. Nevertheless, the way the children in the book spend their free time - playing paper dolls, hopscotch, jump rope and ball might sound alien to some readers. Another aspect that might be lost on younger readers, although not on those familiar with the Laura Ingalls Wilder saga, is the restraint that the Shermans and other families practice. Allie and Danny are only allowed two cookies after school and they are happily surprised when they get to visit the ice cream parlor while shopping downtown and their mother allows them two scoops instead of the usual one.

As a historical novel, Strawberry Hill is very enjoyable, and, as a young adult novel with an engaging narrator, it is very compelling. Mary Ann Hoberman brings Allie to life and ends her first year in her new home and new town with a truly touching, almost magical surprise that will make you smile.

Readers who liked this book might also enjoy Ginger Pye by Eleanor Estes.

Seven Silly Eaters by Mary Ann Hoberman, illustrated by Marla Frazee

As I was writing my review of Mary Ann Hoberman's debut novel for young adults, Strawberry Hill, I just had to mention Seven Silly Eaters, a long time favorite of mine and my children. Rather than stick this mention in at the end of the review of the novel, I decided to honor it with one of it's own and call attention, again, a brilliant poet and essential contributor to the world of children's literature over the last 50+ years.

In the fall of 2008, in honor of Mary Ann Hoberman being named the second ever national Children's Poet Laureate by the Poetry Foundation (on the heels of Jack Prelutsky) I reviewed her excellent series of books for new readers (and a friend) titledYou Read to Me and I'll Read to You, of which there are now four. Author of over 45 books, only one of which is not in verse, Hoberman might be best known for her 1978 winner of the National Book Award, A House is a House for Me, illustrated by frequent collaborator, Betty Fraser. Fraser also provided the illustrations for The Llama Had No Pajama, a collection of 100 of Hoberman's favorite poems she has written for children. If you do not own this book, which is available in paperback, you must rush out and buy it today. Shel Silverstein and Jack Prelutsky have dominated the shelves of the children's poetry section for long enough! Published in 1997 and available in paperback as well, Seven Silly Eaters is illustrated by one of my all-time favorite illustrators/authors, Marla Frazee. Frazee is winner of the Caldecott Honor medal in 2009 for her excellent book, A Couple of Boys Have the Best Week Ever, which made it onto my Best Picture Books of 2008 review. Frazee's illustrations not only enhance the story of the Peters family, but the detail rich pictures sometimes tell a story of their own.

Wether you have a house full of children or just one, all parents who have aimed to please at one time or another will appreciate the plot of Seven Silly Eaters, which is the story of one mother, her

seven children and their particular eating habits, told in rhyme. Frazzled by meeting the needs of her warm milk, homemade bread, pink lemonade, poached egg, non-lumpy oatmeal, applesauce loving children, she forgets her birthday. But, the children don't. In their efforts to treat her by preparing their favorite foods for her breakfast, they instead end up with a messy kitchen and a pot filled to the top with all their favorite foods. They hide it in the oven, which they forget is still hot, and return to bed. In the morning there is an amazing birthday cake made from all their favorite foods and - best of all - all seven children like it! It turns out that Hoberman has spent quite a bit of time and energy creating a recipe that actually bakes up into a delicious cake. Mrs Peters' Birthday Cake can now be made by kids and parents at home!

Mary Ann Hoberman's most recent book, All Kinds of Families, illustrated by Marc Boutavant, is another great parade of rhymes. While the title and timing may make it sounds like a book about diversity and acceptance, which it certainly could be read as, at its heart it is about a child's natural inclination to group objects. A knife, a fork and a spoon, the sun, the stars and the moon, pebbles and dolls and letters and numbers, we have all watched our children sort things out and Hoberman goes the extra, important step of calling these groups families.

Standing for Socks by Elissa Brent Weissman, 220 pp, RL 4

Standing for Socks, the debut novel from Elissa Brent Weissman employs one of my favorite plot devices in adult literature, children's literature and even movies, namely, how one, seemingly miniscule, unconscious act can shape and change a person's life forever. In Standing for Socks, fifth grader Fara Ross unwittingly wears one white and one dark grey sock to school and starts a kid-sized revolution.

Fara, the only child of socially and environmentally conscious parents, shares their views and is an active supporter of these causes at school. She has a close-knit, comfortable relationship with her best friends, Jody, the budding journalist, and Phillip, artistic but clumsy. She is a good student who is looking forward to going to middle school and maybe even winning the Harvey Award for Outstanding Student at the end of the year assembly. Everything seems perfect - except for one or two seemingly small things. Fara's unintentional sock mix-up garners the attention of kids and teachers alike, all of whom like the message she seems to be sending, namely, this is a free country with freedom of expression and socks don't have to match! All except one, and that one, Melodee Simon, makes it her mission to step back into the spotlight that she (and her mother) thinks is her right. When Fara decides to campaign for sixth grade president, her sock popularity seems like the perfect launching pad to promote her school and earth friendly ideas, even though she finds she is growing tired of the responsibility she feels to keep up her statement on individuality.

Elissa Brent Weissman has taken an innovative plot twist (socks) and given us a familiar setting in which it unravels. Fara and Jody, the two main characters, feel like real people - girls my daughter or I even might have gone to school with. The closeness and the hurt that the two experience over the course of the story also ring true. At first, I was surprised when Jody stopped speaking to Fara, but then I remembered back to the slights and oversights that I experienced as a child and how I felt and did the same thing. While the characters of Melodee and her mother are necessarily a bit larger than life to add to the tension and suspense in the plot, Weissman limits their page time. And, really, while Melodee and her mother may be sterotypes, these kind of girls and mothers do exist. Count yourself lucky if you have not run into them (yet.) While the stories of Fara, Jody and Melodee make for a great plot and a realistic and satisfying resolution (and some very funny sock jokes and plays on words), my favorite part of the story involved secondary characters, kids from other schools that Fara, Jody and Phillip befriend. Vickie, Caroline and Zoë, as well as few others, are part of an interesting plot development that dove tails wonderfully with the main plot in the final chapters of the book.

On one last note, I have to say that I think "Fara" is the perfect name for the main character of Standing for Socks. It is a unique and individual name, like Weissman's main character, and out of the ordinary. And, most of all, for me anyway, the name doesn't bring to mind one set visual. In this way, all girl readers can imagine themselves as the main character of this wonderful book and maybe Fara will give them the sense of self needed to make a statement, even a small one that starts with socks. As an aside, when I first began reading Standing for Socks I thought, "Really? Just wearing two different socks can draw this much attention, make such a statement?" It seemed like I might need a willing suspension of disbelief, then I remembered something that happened a few years back at the bookstore where I work when we sold socks. Non-book items have slowly been taking up more and more shelf space at the chain bookstore where I work for years now, much to my chagrin, and, for some reason, we got in a shipment of socks from the little miss matched company. For about $8.00 you can buy 3 socks, all different, but with similar color schemes and patterns. They didn't sell so well and, when the price was marked down, several of my co-workers, myself included, snapped them up. A few weeks later I was shocked to find that all of my co-workers bought 2 sets of socks so that they would have matching pairs instead of mixing them up as they were intended to be worn (and how I wear them...) Wearing mismatched socks (that did, in their own way match) seemed like no big deal to me, but, after asking my co-workers why they weren't mixing it up, I learned that they just couldn't bring themselves to wear two mismatched socks.

Elissa Brent Weissman has a second, fabulous book, The Trouble with Mark Hopper that takes another great twist (two very different boys share the same name) and creates an entertaining, emotionally rich story for young readers. Readers of this book will enjoy the school stories of the master of the genre, Andrew Clements, as well as Grace Lin's books about the budding artist and author, Pacy and Julie Bowe's My Last Best Friend and the sequel, My Next Best Friend.

Snow Spider by Jenny Nimmo 118pp RL3

Written in 1986 and winner of the Smarties Grand Prix (British equivalent of the Newbery Award) The Snow Spider is book one in the fabulous Magician's Trilogy by Jenny Nimmo. Set in Wales, the characters all have magical sounding Welsh names that are sometimes hard to read, let alone pronounce. But, rather than weighting down the writing this makes the story all the more intriguing, as does the Welsh mythology that Nimmo weaves into the plot. The story begins when Gwydion Gwyn's grandmother, Nain, gives hims five unusual gifts for his ninth birthday. These gifts will help to determine if Gwyn is a magician like his ancestral namesake, Math, Lord of Gwynedd, Gwydion and Gilfaethwy, who lived in the nearby hills thousand years ago. A piece of seaweed, a tin whistle, a twisted metal brooch, a small broken horse and a yellow scarf that belonged to Gwyn's missing older sister Bethan make up the gifts from Nain. However, since Gwynn's birthday has not been celebrated in the four years since Bethan disappeared (on his birthday) the assortment from Nain, even though it is unwrapped and odd, is in no way disappointing to Gwyn. The ruckus his father makes when he discovers the Gwyn's mother has chosen this year to begin celebrating Gwyn's birthday again does upset him, though.

Bethan disappeared when she climbed the mountain behind their house in the middle of the night and the middle of a storm to find Gwyn's missing black sheep and his father holds him responsible for the family's loss and can not get on with his life. Gwyn wants nothing more than to have his sister back. Going on intuition alone, Gwyn goes up the mountain with one of the objects Nain gave him and has a magical experience. The wind whips is and the brooch flies out of his hand. When everything quiets down again he finds a snowy white spider clinging to him. As the spider, whom Nain names Arianwen, which means white silver in Welsh, begins to weave a web, things begin to change for Gwyn, but not in the way he had hoped. Gwyn finds a window to a magical snowy world populated with pale, happy children as well as a foster child new to town who looks remarkably like Bethan except for her fair coloring. Before he can connect the two odd occurrences, Arianwen is washed down the drain by his mother and Gwyn resorts to the last bit of magic in his possession - the broken horse statue with the tiny tag on it reading "Dim hon!" In Welsh, dim hon means "not this," and Gwyn soon finds out why.

The storm that the horse brings on puts everything and everyone Gwyn loves in jeopardy and it is up to him to cast a spell that can stop it. Upon rereading The Snow Spider, I am again amazed by the intensity and content of such a short story. The magic and conflict are abstract enough that it should only trouble a very sensitive reader. However, the personal decisions and responsibility that Gwyn struggles with will feel familiar to all children, especially those with siblings.

Emlyn's Moon and The Chestnut Soldier are books 2 and 3 in the series and Gwyn's neighbors, the Lloyd children, all seven of them, play much bigger roles in these books..

Saffy's Angel (Book 1 in the Casson Family Series) by Hilary McKay, 160 pp, RL 4

With Saffy's Angel, Hilary McKay introduces us to the very creative, very eccentric, Casson family who live outside of London. Bill and Eve Casson are both painters. Bill has a studio in London where he lives and paints during the week and Eve has a shed out behind the house where she paints. The Casson children have all been given names from the color chart that hangs prominently in the kitchen of their home. The eldest is Cadmium Gold, or Caddy, then Saffron, Ingido and Permanent Rose. When the story begins, Saffron is eight years old, just becoming a skilled reader, and perusing the color chart. At the same time, Caddy is sitting at the dinner table painting the feet of one of her many hamsters, Indigo is sorting through the coal bin for pieces flecked with gold and Rose, less than a year old, is being inspected by the health worker since her health has been shaky since her birth. As the health worker pries a tube of ochre paint from Rose's little fist, paint she has been sucking on which accounts for her yellowish tinge and necessitates a trip to the emergency room, Saffron notices that her name is not on the chart. She becomes very upset, loudly asking why she isn't on the chart when the worker asks, "Doesn't she know?" as Caddy's hamster makes colorful, delicate footprints all over her paperwork and Indigo stirs up a cloud of coal dust on the hearth.

The opening scene of Saffy's Angel is representative of the level of low-grade chaos, domesticity and creativity that courses throughout the novel. There are so many charming, unique, loving details in this relatively short book that I could go on for pages writing about them. There is the way Indigo considers his sisters his "pack," and places his concern for them above all else. There is the scene in which Caddy encounters Rose, now five or six years old and quickly becoming a skilled artist, painting a picture using only foods as paint. Caddy helpfully suggests the gel toothpaste as a good source of blue. There is the scene in which Saffy, the only one in the family who seems to resent Bill's life in London, is screaming and throwing tomato sandwiches at his taxi as he drives away to the train station, back to his quiet, tidy life, away from the routineless, jumbled existence that is life in the Banana House (so named because of a plaque over the door when they moved in.) There is Eve making her "brain juice," which consists of instant coffee and cola stirred up together, invented when she had to spend all day mothering her children and all night tending to a fretful baby Rose. But, what you come away with at the end of the book is that, no matter what the level of messy existence in the home, the Casson children have a deep and protective love for each other that allows them to overcome their fears and feel at home in the world.

The angel of the title refers to a statue that stood in the garden of the home Saffy shared with her mother, Eve's twin sister, until she was three years old. That was when, during a visit from her grandfather, her mother died in a car crash. He returned to England with a crying three year old and a car full of toys, however, he could not bring the statue, upon which he had written the words, "Saffy's Angel" in blue pencil, with them. After settling Saffy in with the Cassons, he returns to Italy for the statue and, on the way home suffers a stroke that causes him to crash his Bentley and lose his capacity for speech for the rest of his life. When Saffy is thirteen her grandfather dies. In his will he leaves his crumbling house in Wales to Caddy, his wrecked Bentley to Indigo and $300 to Rose, which Caddy gets all in one pound coins that Rose then super glues together, paints gold and turns into a work of art. To Saffy, he leaves her angel. Knowing nothing about the angel, Bill and Eve at first think this is a figurative term. However, Saffy, who is haunted by dreams of a white, stone walled garden, comes to believe that her angel must be a statue from her life in Siena.

With her new found friend, the wheelchair bound Sarah Warbeck, she pursues her angel. And, when she cannot find it on her own, Indigo, Caddy and Rose get in on the game. How they do it is amusing and touching. There are several other plot threads woven into this colorful book that leave you wanting more of the Cassons, which is a good thing since there are four more books about them.

In Indigo's Star, Indigo misses a semester of school when he comes down with glandular fever (mononucleousis.) This isn't too troubling for him since he also gets to miss the school bullies flushing his head down the toilet. When he does return to school, Saffy and Sarah are there to offer protection, but it is his friendship with the American, Tom, that helps him get through the rest of the year. Caddy is off at University in London, Rose is dreading the news that she must wear glasses and Bill and Eve are still both working away in their separate studios miles and miles apart.

In Permanent Rose Caddy is engaged, and not always happily so. Indigo is cautiously beginning a friendship with the reformed bully, David, who yearns to be part of the Casson family. Saffy and Sarah are on a mission to find Saffy's biological father. And Rose has taken up a life of crime while trying to find where her American friend Tom has gone off to.

In Caddy Ever After, rather than the third person narrator Hilary McKay usually employs, alternating chapters are narrated by Caddy, Saffy, Indigo and Rose and all stories revolve around Valentine's Day in one way or another...

The fifth and final Casson, Forever Rose, finds an eleven-year old Rose who is missing her family. Caddy is now twenty-three and nowhere to be found, Saffy is eighteen, Indigo sixteen and Bill and Eve are separated. Rose finds herself mixed up in her best friend's plan to spend the night in the zoo in the arctic foxes' enclosure. As Marie Orlando says in her review for the Suffolk Cooperative Libary System, "What results from a mischeivous, if dangerous escapde are some surprising resolutions to Rose's disenchantment with school and home, and even a new configuration of the family. McKay is at the top of he game with this poignant, hilarious account, narrated in diary form by the irrepressible, artistic, Rose. Readers will empathize with her frustrations, secretly admire her and Kiran's sassiness, and cheer as everything falls nicely, and unexpectedly, into place."

Readers who liked this book might also enjoy:
Saffy's Angel by Hilary McKay
School Story by Andrew Clements
My Last Best Friend by Julie Bowe
Book of Coupons by Susie Morgenstern
Everything on a Waffle by Polly Horvath