Sir Nathan and the Quest for Queen Gobbledeegook, by Mark Simon Smith, 2012, Book Review

MMGM is a weekly meme hosted by middle grade author, Shannon Messenger. 

My sons both enjoyed this book. The humor is droll, the plot straightforward, and the details random enough to engage young readers. Consider Jubb Jubb Trees that fall into piles of lumber with a precise kick, Hootentoot leaves that scream with fright when they fall, blue squirrels, a sun that rises and sets in the east because of an old grudge with the west, landscapes of polka dots and bright primary colors, lots of magic, and a hero who isn’t all that bright but who is valiant, likable, and bursting with personality. That’s what you get with Sir Nathan.

I, however, don’t rank this one as highly as my sons. I found the detail (which my kids loved) tedious and the plot slow and predictable. There was also a good deal of redundancy and wordiness, and the whole thing needed a few sessions with an editor. Twenty percent of the book could be wiped out with the first markup. But it’s clean, the author has a sense of humor, and it is fun for the audience for whom it is intended.

Consider the following quote:

Surprisingly, Sir Nathan was usually able to finish all of his quests just by shouting knightly stuff. Tupolev (the horse) was amazed at how many bad guys would just give up at the first sign of someone with a huge sword screaming about smiting and smashing and stabbing. There was even one time when Sir Nathan defeated an entire army of goblin pirates with just one single growl.

Of course, Tupolev knew the growl was really just a loud burp from a late breakfast. But, still, it had worked.

What kid won’t laugh at that and read on for more? The tagline (“A Somewhat Silly Story”) is pretty accurate. And I have to admit, Sir Nathan and his trusty steed do have consistent, engaging personalities. It just isn’t the same quality as something picked up from the bookstore. So I won’t give Sir Nathan a high recommendation, but I have no objections if it will get kids like my reluctant readers reading. I have little enough invested in them. Sir Nathan is just .99 on Amazon, and so is the sequel. For ages 7-11.

The Big Bank Burglary (St. Viper’s School for Super Villains), by Kim Donovan, 2013, Book Review

MMGM is a weekly meme hosted by middle grade author, Shannon Messenger. (Finally! A meme that fits perfectly with my content!)

This is the second in Kim Donovan’s St. Viper’s series, and it’s just as fun as the first one. The school hidden within the volcano is back, and the lessons to train young villains in World Domination continue. This time, the Syndicate of Supreme Evil is bent on control of all the world’s banks. The Big Bank Robbery is to be a school project for the baddest of the scholars, and Demon wants in. The problem is, ever since Copycat transferred to St. Viper’s, Demon can’t seem to stop messing up. Demon’s popularity has tanked, and even some of his friends abandon him for the new guy.

The Big Bank Burglary is chucked full of more kid-pleasing detail. A giant food fight involving snake flesh pizza and cowpat curry; super villains with names like Lady Lava, Flying Phantom, Monsieur Magnifique, and Doctor Dynamite; cool technie gadgets like  like the EVIL (Electronic Villain’s Intelligence Log), and enough high-flying action to satisfy every kids craving.

But St. Viper’s isn’t pure evil. Even though we’re rooting for the bad guys (all in good fun, of course), at the end of the adventure, we celebrate some noble traits. Like the loyalty Demon’s friends display. And when Demon’s arch nemesis is in his hands, he lets him go to fight another day. In fact, “he was looking forward to lots of battles…” He found purpose, silly as it might be. And finally, in a hilarious twist, we find that even Dr. Super Villain finds he needs love and acceptance.

Funny, action-packed, well-edited, and containing absolutely no objectionable content, this one rates highly for the younger middle graders. Recommended for ages 7-9.

The Big Bank Burglary is also available on Smashwords.

The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (The Chronicles of Narnia, book one), by C.S. Lewis, 1950

This spring I’m making my, golly, eighth or ninth journey through Narnia, but this time I’m taking along my son. We’re going to end the homeschool year by reading the entire series. He’s watched the movie before, but he’d never experienced the written version. It was a hit. We finished The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe in five big gulps because neither of us wanted to stick to the allotted time frame. I have to say, there is a depth and a beauty in the prose that the movie just can’t capture.

This classic is so well known I hardly feel a plot summary is necessary, but I’ll write one anyway. The four Pevensie siblings, Lucy, Edmund, Susan, and Peter, have been sent to the countryside to avoid the bombing of London during WWII and land in a huge old home owned by a peculiar old professor. There they find within a wardrobe a magical world that is being held captive by an evil witch. The whole land awaits the coming of two Sons of Adam and two Daughters of Eve, as spoken in prophecy, and the great lion, Aslan, who will free them from the witch’s rule. But Edward betrays the others, and the Deep Magic written into Narnia at the beginning of time requires a traitor’s blood. Aslan must make the ultimate sacrifice to save him and save Narnia.

As a child, I loved the fairy tale elements of this story: the talking animals, the children who rule as kings and queens, the medieval quality, the mythical creatures, the great lovable lion. But as I grew, I discovered layer upon layer of richness within its pages. Humans are set up as good rulers over animals and nature; evil choices demand a high cost; forgiveness is granted even at great personal expense; good and evil are constantly at war; and my favorite, we are given a beautiful picture of a fierce, just, loving, involved, good, and untame deity—Aslan, son of the Emperor over the Sea. It doesn’t take a genius to see all that these elements have Christian parallels. Lewis’ story really isn’t all that original after all; he tells the same one set forth in the Bible. He was, after all, one of the greatest theologians of modern times. I’m not typically a fan of allegory, but this story is so strong, so beautiful, so engaging that I love it anyway. In this case, perhaps I even love it more because of it.

It seems I find something new every time I read it. This time I noticed that when the Professor argues logic to determine if Lucy is telling the truth, he uses almost word for word the arguments Lewis uses about Christ: “There are only three possibilities. Either your sister is telling lies, or she is mad, or she is telling the truth. You know she doesn’t tell lies and it is obvious that she is not mad. For the moment then and unless any further evidence turns up, we must assume that she is telling the truth.”

But whether you’re a Christian or not, this tale is magical and timeless, as are all the stories of Narnia. It is one of my favorite places to visit. I’m so excited to be making the trip yet again—and taking one of my favorite people with me. Watch for my reviews.

• Prince Caspian
• The Voyage of the Dawn Treader
• The Silver Chair
• The Horse and his Boy
• The Magician’s Nephew
• The Last Battle

Horton Halfpott or the Feindish Mystery of Smugwick Manor or The Loosening of M’Lady Luggertuck’s Corset, by Tom Angleberger, 2011, Book Review

If I might add yet another subheading to the title of this most unusual book, it would be “or  Whimsical Wit and Lyrical Nonsense,” because those happen to be the two most notable assets of this particular scrap of literature. The story is sort of a whodunit with very stylized characters and a not entirely predictable plot. It’s also a rather meaningless tale with a lot of random details and very little takeaway value aside from entertainment. But it is the very precise placement of well-picked words that make this story noteworthy. It’s rather nonsensical, but it’s whimsical, it’s witty, and it’s lyrical. And that makes the entire thing rather fun.

Everything started one morning when M’Lady Luggertuck ordered her corset loosened—an Unprecedented Marvel. The whole house sensed the Loosening, from the lowliest kitchen boy to the good lady’s son, and the deeds that followed were most unusual. They included thievery, a costume ball, a kidnapping by Shipless Pirates, and the beginnings of true love (on which it’s been decided we shall not dwell). We’re also treated to one young man’s honor, the loyalty of true friends, justice granted, and one young lady’s ability to judge wisely between suitors. All told, a very satisfactory and smile-inducing read.

I’d recommend Horton Halfpott for ages eight and up.

Rules, by Cynthia Lord, 2006, Book Review

This was part of my goal to read every Newbery book (this one took honors), and I finished it in one sitting. I started it the last evening of 2012 and enjoyed it enough to forego watching the ball drop. I turned the last page in the earliest hours of 2013. I knew this book had won wide acclaim, but had no idea what it was about. Turns out it shares a similar theme with Mockingbird, by Kathryn Erskine.

Catherine is a normal twelve-year-old girl who would like a normal life, but having a younger brother with autism means nothing is normal. David blurts out odd phrases at inopportune times. He opens cupboard doors at other people’s houses and hunts for their cellars to make sure the door is closed. He embarrasses Catherine and makes a simple thing like inviting the new neighbor girl over not so simple at all. He must be taught the social graces that the rest of us so naturally assume. So Catherine takes it upon herself to help him by creating a list of rules.

Chew with your mouth closed.

Say “thank you” when someone gives you a present (even if you don’t like it).

If the bathroom door is closed, knock (especially if Catherine has a friend over)!

No toys in the fish tank.

A character like David can easily alienate a reader with no basis to relate, but David actually became my favorite. He evokes a great deal of sympathy with a few cute quirks. For instance, every time he puts a toy in the fish tank, he burst into Catherine’s room and tells her, “No toys in the fish tank!” (See, he hates to be wet, and he needs her to take it out.) And every time Catherine’s guinea pigs squeal, he covers his ears and yells, “Quiet pigs!” And my favorite, my absolute favorite quirk is that whenever he can’t find the words he needs, he quotes Frog and Toad, a classic easy reader written by Arnold Lobel.

“‘“What are you laughing at, Frog?”’” David asks, worried lines cutting his forehead.

I touch the tiny frog stamp on his hand and show him mine. “‘“I’m laughing at you, Toad,” said Frog, “because you do look funny in your bathing suit.”’”

David smiles. “‘“Of course I do,” said Toad. Then he picked up his clothes and went home.”’

I feel like I got to know David, and I loved him. But the story focuses on Catherine and her changing emotion from anger and embarrassment to acceptance. And she does this with the help of Jason, a wheelchair-bound boy she befriends who can’t talk. The person under the handicap, she realizes, is a person worthy of love and respect. Rules is a moving, well-written story any way you look at it, one I’d highly recommend.

A Monster Calls, by Patrick Ness, 2011, Book Review

This was a tough read, though I made it through the entire book in one sitting. You could say it was timely.

Connor has been having the same nightmare over and over for months. The one where—oh, he can’t stand to think about it. He’s been having trouble at school with three bullies. He’s distanced himself from his best friend. His dad lives across the ocean with a new wife. He can’t stand his grandmother. And his mom’s cancer treatments don’t seem to be working. He feels invisible.

Then the yew tree in the back yard comes walking. It appears late at night and tells Connor a series of stories. More dreams. They must be. But each morning his floor is covered with evidence of his late night guest—twigs, leaves, berries.

The yew tree. A tree of healing. That is what his mother needs.

The stories the tree tells are wild, for “stories are the wildest thing of all. They chase and bite and hunt.” And these teach Connor much about the mixed up way life works. “There is not always a good guy. Nor is there always a bad one.” Life doesn’t always make sense. But the yew tree helps Connor sort out truth and error. It helps him face life head on. For “if you speak the truth, you will be able to face whatever comes.”

The tree hasn’t come to heal Mum at all. It’s come to heal Connor. And it demands that Connor tell the last story. It demands he tell the truth—and the outcome of his recurring nightmare.

Though this story is beautifully told, it is not happy. It’s a terribly emotional look at one boy’s struggle with his mother’s approaching death. And it doesn’t really provide any hope. There isn’t much comfort in telling the truth. But it does have some sound advice; facing reality is the only way to begin healing.

I think this one is appropriate for ten-year-olds. It has two minor profanities, and one of the yew tree’s stories does involve “coupling,” but it does have some deep thoughts and some valid wisdom. And the subject matter is handled very tenderly. I recommend A Monster Calls, especially for children who may find themselves in similar, tragic circumstances.

From the Mixed-up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler, by E. L. Konigsburg, 1967

Can you believe I’ve never read this book before? This Newbery winner is a heavy hitter, well-known and well-loved by the generation that grew up with it. Except me. But now I see why it has such a reputation.

Claudia Kincade is a sixth grader who is so unhappy with the routine of her life that she decides to shake things up. She recruits her third grade—and rich—brother and runs away to the Metropolitan Museum in New York. (My only critique is that brother Jamie seems much older than nine.) At first it’s all about the adventure: stashing their bags in a sarcophagus, hiding in the public bathroom after visiting hours, sleeping in a display bed from the 1600’s, rationing their money, and bathing in the fountain. But Claudia doesn’t really like to be uncomfortable, and she misses the clean smell of freshly washed laundry. The constant hunger gets tiresome as well.

Then the children discover Angel, a small marble statue that may or may not have been sculpted by Renaissance great Michaelangelo. It’s under investigation by the museum experts. Claudia becomes fascinated with the statue. She has to find out the truth about it. As she searches, she also learns that her running away, her seeking, wasn’t really about the adventure at all. It was about finding out what makes her Claudia.

From the Mixed-up Files is beautifully written, thought provoking, and fun. I loved the adventure. I would have been all about hiding out in a museum for a week when I was a kid. (It’s still a little tempting now.) But as an adult, I really got on board with the conflict raging within Claudia. In a large family, she wants to feel special. She wants to know she’s an important individual. She does find out what makes her unique, but her search becomes as important as the answers. I just wouldn’t recommend her methods. Ages 9+

Noah Zarc: Cataclysm (Noah Zarc, #2), by D. Robert Pease, Book Review

MMGM is a weekly meme hosted by middle grade author, Shannon Messenger. (Finally! A meme that fits perfectly with my content!)

D. Robert Pease is two for two. His first MG novel, Noah Zarc: Mammoth Trouble, was given the very first Bookworm Blather Squeaky Award. His sequel, Cataclysm, will be receiving another. (Check out my review of Noah Zarc and my 5-Q interview with the author.)

In book one, Noah’s family had embarked on a scientific mission of repopulating the earth with animals. But Haon Craz had done his best to thwart their efforts. Now, we find out another side of this villain. A visit to Venus shows Noah the horrible squalor the Venetians live in. Haon, he learns, isn’t against the ARC project so much as he is for recolonizing the earth with people.  But the Poligarchy, in an effort to keep its rigid control over the solar system, won’t allow it. Yet we’re never quite sure if Haon is really a good guy. In fact, he seems downright suspect. Now Noah is having dreams that link him to Haon and cause him to seek the man out. Only that was Haon’s plan all along. Haon needs Noah to fly the ship back in time to implement his plan to prevent the cataclysm that destroyed earth in the first place. But is Haon really preventing it…or causing it?

This is another great mind-bender. The wild time jump details are fabulously thought out and cause some unexpected results. And we are introduced to some cool robot characters with personalities (personhoods, actually) of their own. Noah and James, one of the robots, share a special connection due to the neuro chip implanted in Noah’s brain. This gives them a direct mental link that comes in handy. They’re like brother, twins, two of the same person, almost. (“I felt like I was actually discovering who I was. And I realized I didn’t mind hanging out with me.”) Noah can even inhabit James, giving him a physical presence outside his own body and a chance to use his legs for the first time. Noah’s handicap gives readers a ready way to identify with him. We may not all be wheelchair- (okay, magchair-) bound, but don’t we all live with something we wish we could change? I know I do.

I have very little bad to say about this series. It can be a little difficult to follow at times, especially if I’m reading in the evening after a long day. You have to stay up on the details, and it moves fast. Also, there are a lot of unnecessary commas that slow the flow of the sentences.  But I can live with both of those. There’s so much good in the series: family, nobility, sacrifice, friendship, excitement, and imagination, not to mention a complete lack of offensive subjects and language. I also really appreciate the high value Mr. Pease gives to people. Cavemen are intelligent and enterprising, and the world was made for people. This implies intention and purpose, not chance and degradation. That is so refreshing to find.

In conclusion, this is a fun read with no caution flags. I highly recommend the series. Probably a 10+ independent reading level, but a great read aloud for those a few years younger.

They’re a steal on Kindle:

Mammoth Trouble 2.99

Cataclysm 3.99

The Riotous Rocket Ship Robbery (St. Viper’s School for Super Villains, book one), by Kim Donovan, 2011, Book Review

MMGM is a weekly meme hosted by middle grade author, Shannon Messenger. (Finally! A meme that fits perfectly with my content!)

This book is funny, perfect for young readers, and truly unique. It’s all about raising up villains, not heroes. But don’t worry, it’s written with a full measure of humor that keeps the tone lighthearted and silly.

St. Viper’s is a secret boarding school set within the cone of a volcano where hopeful young villains study subjects such as “World Domination” and “Sinister Science.” Together, the team of wicked teachers works to create “an elite team—a Syndicate of Supreme Evil, heh-heh—a force of unforgettable fear, ho-ho—a team of terrifying tricksters, har-har—to TAKE OVER THE WORLD.” Yet in the midst of one such mad moment of instruction, Dr. Super Evil takes a call from his mother and quietly assures her he’s wearing a clean vest and fresh pants.

Into this silly world of supreme evil, Demon (who bursts into flame when he’s in a rage) and a few of his First Year friends end up on the wrong side of Senior super, Chill, and his assortment of terrible cronies. A bully with super powers is a fearsome thing, especially in a school that encourages villainous behavior. Along with worries about his own survival, Demon fears he’ll never be able to live up to his father’s reputation, and he’s concerned that his friend Stretch–a girl–is showing him up. But in a display of supernatural plot twists and tongue-in-cheek humor, Ms. Donovan manages a satisfying ending in which “the best baddie wins.”

Yes, this book has young readers cheering for the “wrong side,” but it does so in such an ironic, witty way that I didn’t see any harm in it, just a lot of good-natured fun. It flips the traditional super hero story on its head and leaves kids laughing all the way to the back cover. It’s also clean (thanks, Ms. Donovan!), professionally edited, and appropriate for seven- to nine-year-old readers. I give St Viper’s my wholehearted recommendation.

Open Minds (Mindjack Trilogy, book one), Susan Kaye Quinn, 2011, Book Review

I am so excited to share this book! I have read over two hundred MG/YA books since reading The Hunger Games, a series that totally floored me. Out of those hundreds, Open Minds is the only one that glued my butt to my couch as The Hunger Games did. In fact, this review will be a little off-the-cuff, because I didn’t slow down to take notes like I usually do.

In an aside, the world of juvenile self-publishing does seem to be a small one. I first saw this book on D. Robert Pease’s design website. He’s the one who created this incredible cover art. (He’s also the indie author of the very excellent book, Noah Zarc, which I loved. I have to get the newly released book two.) I remember being totally struck by this cover. But it wasn’t until I saw the book again, in a BookBub promotion, that I picked it up.

Open Minds has a dystopian feel to it. Kira lives in Chicago in a world very different from ours. Because of a mutation linked to chemicals in the water supply, people have developed the ability to communicate telepathically. The skill kicks in roughly with the onset of puberty, and the rare child who fails to develop it is destined for life as a zero, the bottom of society. Kira is one such child. By age 16, she still hasn’t changed to a reader. She’s become something far worse.

Kira is a mindjacker. She can control other people’s minds.

Kira’s confusion, anger, and fear draw us into her story. We learn about her new skill as she does. Fortunately, she has Simon, a classmate and fellow jacker who guides her development. Unfortunately, Simon carries an undercurrent of danger, a hint of the underworld. Kira can’t tell her family about her new abilities for fear of their safety. Neither does she tell Raf, her best friend, and their relationship fills with lies.

Then Kira learns there are far greater dangers when one is a jacker. And in a world that reads minds, a secret is a very difficult thing to keep.

Let me say again, this is a riveting read, one I highly, highly recommend. And I’m proud to say it’s written by an indie author who did an amazingly professional job. The huge popularity of the book is testament to that. I do have a few negatives to mention, though. First, the terminology alienated me in the beginning, but that was probably just me. I was overwhelmed by the new culture (slang/music) as well as new technology like “hydrocars” and “nove-fiber.” Also, the catalyst that prompted this monumental, worldwide mutation felt coincidental and insufficiently explained. Finally, the flow felt a little rushed in some places, particularly at the seams where hard-hitting scenes mesh together or when Kira is reflecting. The prose grows a little matter-of-fact in these few spots. I found myself wishing the author had lingered a little longer, fleshed these moments out, given us more detail to savor.

But don’t let my little quirks sway you from checking out Open Minds. (At .99 it’s a steal!) They certainly didn’t affect my five star rating. Rarely has a book mindjacked my attention like this one. The premise is wonderfully unique, the action fast and hard-hitting, the prose clearly and smoothly written. Details tuck into a tight, intelligent package. All around, it’s the best book I’ve read in a long time, Big Six offerings included. I’ve already downloaded book two.

Geared for a YA audience, but completely appropriate for 10+. I’d honor it with a Bookworm Blather Squeaky Award except for a few omg’s.

View the Mindjack Trilogy trailer.