Read As Long As The Lemon Trees Grow by Zoulfa Katouh and The Weight of Blood by Tiffany D. Jackson when they come out in September, Tin Man by Justin Madson, Dumplings for Lili by Melissa Iwai, and Soul Lanterns by Shaw Kuzki.
With dozens of books read, these sparkling gems shined the brightest.
To try to keep up with reading everything you want to read is the same analogy as trying to find information on the internet which is that it’s like trying to take a drink from a fire hydrant- more will keep coming at you. So the task is always to enjoy it. Yes there are times when I have to read certain things like for a committee or a book review for a magazine that has a deadline, but this year I’ve found I have a lot more flexibility and I’m enjoying myself.
The Only Good Indians I already posted about here. That was a highlight from this month that warranted its own post. And a few others for various reasons which I’ll share now, going backwards from audience since The Only Good Indians‘ target audience is adult.
Anatomy: A Love Story by Dana Schwartz was a perfect Gothic tale to a YA audience. As I’ve shared in the conversations I’ve had since reading it is that while I knew that the subtitle was “a love story”, I think Schwartz could have kept it solely about Hazel’s pursuit of being a physician and it been solidly fabulous. I know why Schwartz included the romance and the ending relied, in part, on it’s existence, but Hazel’s strength of character was memorable all by itself.
I have a good friend who is a high school art teacher. As soon as I closed the book, I sent her a few texts asking if she knew much about Savage. Then I told her she needed to read Augusta Savage: The Shape of a Sculptor’s Life by Marilyn Nelson pronto and that I was just as taken with Nelson’s choice to write in verse but that there was historical context in addition to the biographical content and that I loved a quote that was included by Savage: “I have created nothing really beautiful, really lasting, but if I can inspire one of these youngsters to develop the talent I know they possess, then my monument will be in their work.” Immensely powerful.
And last, a picture book by Phung Nguyen Quang and illustrated by Huynh Kim Lien called My First Day. I will end up owning this book soon because the captivating artwork unlocks a reader’s imagination as much as it connects to every experience we’ve had with a “first”. Yes, the boy is on his way to his first day of school through a maze of obstacles, but perseveres. The writing matches the tone of the design and creates an all-encompassing experience. A feast for the eyes.
I don’t usually fall asleep on the couch at 6pm, but when I do I have an excuse. It was a Friday night after a day that included instruction in the morning about citing sources and then a book discussion virtual author visit collaboration with an outside agency that was doubling as my observation for the afternoon. There was some heightened stress with this event because it had been postponed two weeks earlier due to physical violence at our school that led to a lockdown and early student release. I wanted to make sure this went off without a hitch.
There were a few obstacles to get here:
I sent emails, I made invitations, I made an updated invitation bookmark, I put it on social media. Yet, some students still didn’t show up.
But with all of that, here were the wins:
Then the bell rang and students were done for the day and week as it was a Friday afternoon, but they left happy and fed. The minute they walked out the door, the reflection conversation immediately began in my head and with the community partner. How did that go? What could we do better? What would we change next time?
There will be a next time…
In honor of the Super Bowl today, here are a few pigskin picks.
Whether fiction or nonfiction, these all hit on topics associated with the game.
Each of these stories is worthy of a read, just maybe not during the game today. Go Rams. Go Bengals. I’m just hear for the cider and snacks.
Marc-Andre Leclerc is the focus of a documentary on Netflix called The Alpinist. As a teenager and into his twenties he was an adventurous, nature-loving outdoorsman who became an alpinist. It was his skill and focus that drew attention to him, but also his boyish charm and why documentarians wanted to capture his story. As they followed him to document his ascents, there was a particularly daring one that he hadn’t told the filmmakers about and when they asked him after the fact, why with such an amazing feat, he didn’t let them know he was doing it, he gregariously responds that it wouldn’t be pure unless he was doing it alone: no cameras, no accompaniment. At this juncture in history, everything is documented, often to the detriment of the experience.
That’s in marked contrast to my recent read of Jon Krakauer’s Into Thin Air that documents his climb to the top of Mount Everest with several groups which led to tragedy on the mountain. Krakauer not only made it to the top but he survived. The origins of the trip were to document the ever-growing commercialization of climbing Mount Everest for a writing gig, but then became so much more with the tragedy and why Krakauer ended up writing a book about the experience. The commercialization is a fascinating element. If you made it to the summit, wouldn’t you want some evidence of the feat? Would you be content to look around or would you be grasping for a camera? In the book, one thing struck me and that was that there was never a chance to be alone for these climbers. From every camp they made it to as they trudged up the mountain, there were sherpas, guides, and partnerships to keep everyone safe and secure though Krakauer mentioned one man whose goal was to make it to the top alone after biking to Nepal. There are those that solo and those that don’t. Is one more dangerous than the other?
The documentary and book are riveting. Krakauer’s book had been on my list to read and after watching The Alpinist, it was time. Both were curious looks into a world I don’t have any direct experience with but showcase daring and adventure- though I have occasionally dappled in adventure, nothing to this extent for sure. It’s a phenomenal pairing, this documentary and the book, both of which I recommend especially for those of us in the Northeast in the depths of winter.
I left work and went directly to my local comic book shop that is about a half mile from my high school library. Then, I went home to settle in in my reading chair with a blanket, a drink, and issue #55.
Preparing last weekend, I read the first fifty-four issues spread across nine volumes to fall back into the world that is so eloquently illustrated and created by the brains and hands of Brian K. Vaughan and Fiona Staples. This was my third re-reading. My second reading was in direct response to the pandemic shutdown. On March 13th, I decided I would read a volume a day. The creators also took a step back which Vaughan discusses in his note at the back of issue #55. Their hiatus included necessary recharging, but also plotting the trajectory of the series in addition to growing families (congratulations Fiona!)
Revisiting this world– a world that is dark but has a fighting spirit, a world that is is full of sex and violence, a world of varied creatures, planets, and cultures all surviving– is as much about escape as it is a celebration of an epic space opera from the brains of actual human beings that create art. I do not cosplay per se, but I’ve been known to throw a Ms. Marvel handmade costume on when the occasion calls or make my own witch cap like Coco’s from Witch Hat Atelier, but those that do create intricate costumes inspired by Saga is awe-inspiring. I actually think I might have to have something for the next time “character from a book or movie” shows up during a school spirit week. Either way, readers of Saga have a visceral connection to the content and the art.
Therefore, spending an hour gushing over the next steps in where Vaughan and Staples will take it on release day was magical. I won’t spoil anything because #54 left us with so much to discuss, so I’m eager to hear from other Saga fans out there!
During lunch I typically read something from the shelves or the new cart that I can get through during the period which is usually a graphic novel, a manga, a short nonfiction book over a few days. This is in addition to the audiobook I have on for the car and housework. And in addition to the book I’m reading in the course of the day or week. So I know I’m in love with a book when my general reading book becomes my lunch reading book. That’s what happened when Emily X.R. Pan’s book, to be released in April, made its way into my life.
An Arrow To The Moon is includes elements of magical realism that were present in her first book The Astonishing Color of After. But this one had a layer of moodiness that lent an atmosphere of quiet desperation. Hunter’s family has hidden themselves away in ways Hunter has yet to grasp. But protecting his younger brother Cody helps him find purpose. He also has an instant connection to Luna, a girl who thought she wanted to be the stereotypical perfect Asian child: going to college, getting a well-paying job, doing as her parents say, staying away from boys. And that first connection (for a 90s girl who still owns the Romeo + Juliet DVD as well as the movie soundtrack) happens at a fish tank.
And the pieces begin to fit together. Pan’s use of multiple perspectives continually refreshes the story in addition to her short chapters though the book itself is a hearty 400 pages. I hurried up and then slowed down; I wanted to know what was going to happen next but I also didn’t want it to end. Though when it did I clutched it to my chest in awe of how Pan wove Chinese mythology with a pair of contemporary star-crossed lovers battling misperceptions and parental infidelity, secret-keeping and their own mythological beginnings. It has magic and it is magic.
This one was like Cupid’s arrow striking my heart, my big bookish heart that is a sucker for atmospheric and intelligent writing eager for something new and different. THIS was it.
Maybe it was because I stayed up way past my bedtime to watch the Bills and the Chiefs game that jazzed me for the week. No, that can’t be it. It was the impending Youth Media Awards on Monday morning that got me excited for the week. Being the chairperson for the Excellence in Nonfiction Award, this was the day. The day where we awarded the winner her medal in front of a pre-recorded but live-stream of the ceremony at the advantageous time of 9am EST and shared the finalists (which had already been shared in December) so that everyone could go out and read them widely– although I’m pretty sure many had already had these titles on their radar.
I wore a new dress, I bought myself a chai tea latte– which I never do– and drove in to work early to log in to our committee’s watch party Meet. My body was buzzing and I was overcome with emotion. It was a different emotion than being in Seattle in 2019 where everyone was together in person for the ALA annual conference and Youth Media Awards both because it was a shared in-person experience but also because it was my first on an award committee. I had already served on a selection committee, but an award committee has a whole different feel. This emotion was a mix of pride, excitement, honor, and pure joy.
The watch party was exactly where I wanted to be because my committee made up of two Lauras, Janet, Rebecca, Mike, Ginny, Yolanda, and Jeana was phenomenal. We had fun and got our work done. We talked for hours about the crop of nonfiction books published in 2021 over the course of a year. We debated. We respectfully disagreed. We laughed. Then Monday morning, we had Oregonians who were logging in at 6am, barely a cuppa something hot in their hands and those of us that were a bit into our work day. And we shared the same excitement to share the books out and hear what the other committees selected as well.
If you’re a librarian, it’s one of the most indescribable feelings to work together toward a shared goal like committee membership is. I urge you to take the leap if you haven’t already.
If you’re an avid reader and book lover, tune in each year to celebrate the love of children’s and young adult literature. Buy the books. Share the books.
If you’re a child or young adult, read. Read. Read. You’re who the authors and illustrators write for.
I won’t pretend I didn’t tear up because I’m good at hiding it. But I was so damn proud. Of the work we did, of the American Library Association and YALSA for their efforts to continue the tradition of the Youth Media Awards, of the authors and illustrators who do the work that we get to celebrate. It’s a shared love of knowledge, art, and words that fills my cup in ways that other things just can’t. There was certainly no ‘case of the Mondays’ for me yesterday. I’ll probably be riding this excitement until February 24th when we get to celebrate with the finalists and winner. Tune in because it’s not over quite yet.
Jennifer Dugan will publish four young adult fiction novels come May 17, 2022 with her newest, Melt With You. She does have some comics which I haven’t read, however, I have read all four of her YA fiction titles and I can tell you she works some unbelievable magic in between the pages of her books typically focused on love and coming-of-age.
First, let’s celebrate her titles and covers which are the first things teen readers see and evaluate. The titles tells you exactly what you’re getting and the covers do too. The artwork is soft but mixes the contemporary story with the illustrated style that pulls a person toward it.
Second, the books are character-centered. You can tell from the covers which all feature the main characters on the covers, but also the minute you step into the book, you’re in the middle of someone’s head: how they feel, what their conflict is, how they want to move forward and problem-solve (or avoid it).
And third, they’re feel-good stories. Yes, there is the conflict that needs to be resolved but ultimately, the issue that the character is experiencing is able to be overcome or dealt with. Dugan’s stories are the ones that make it easy to believe that teens can overcome obstacles and work through issues. Oftentimes I find as I’m booktalking in my high school library that there is death, destruction, and heartbreak around every corner. Those books have a place but too many in a row makes it seem like being a teenager is a dark, hopeless place and that’s not true. They’ll raise their hand and ask for a funny book or a romance and ask why everyone’s parents are dead.
It doesn’t hurt that Dugan is somewhat local to us here in upstate New York and as I’m writing this, I’m writing myself a Post-it reminder to contact her to arrange a visit to our school in the near future.
And as the title of my post proclaims, I hope that she doesn’t stop at four, but has plenty more to come.
My middle school sons spent the last few months working with a talented group of middle schoolers (and a few elementary schoolers) in their junior production of Willy Wonka. It was a magical experience altogether and not just because my kids were a part of it but because the directors chose bright and fun props and costumes to make the viewer experience a feast for the eyes. And isn’t that what Willy Wonka does when the Golden Ticket winners enter the factory that has been closed to the public for many years?
When it all came to a close after the third and final performance, I reflected on where it began. With a book by Roald Dahl called Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.
And isn’t that how most things start… with a book? We don’t give them nearly enough credit sometimes. The best blockbuster movies (and then the reboots upon reboots) and plays, fanfiction and t-shirts– usually based on a book. There are two versions of the book made into a movie, both of which were watched by my kids in preparation for their theatrical performance.
But it usually begins with a book.
And of course I decided to do what I do best and return to the OG- Dahl’s book and found that I highlighted one of the closing passages that seems to always stay true in any version:
“Listen,” Mr. Wonka said, “I’m an old man. I’m much older than you think. I can’t go on forever. I’ve got no children of my own, no family at all. So who is going to run the factory when I get too old to do it myself? Someone’s got to keep it going- if only for the sake of the Oompa-Loompas. Mind you, there are thousands of clever men who would give anything for the chance to come in and take over for me, but I don’t want that sort of person. I don’t want a grown-up person at all. A grownup won’t listen to me; he won’t learn. He will try to do things his own way and not mine. So I have to have a child. I want a good sensible loving child, one to whom I can tell all my most precious candy-making secrets- while I am still alive.”
Imagination. The way a child’s brain works to find the magic and the beauty, right from their own imagination. I can hear the music now.
If ever you need a break, borrow a children’s book (or five) and unlock your own imagination. It can begin with a book.
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Readers Be Advised 