Eat, Read, and Be Mommy

Yeah, it’s mid-December, folks.  I’ve been doing ALL THE THINGS, and now I’m going to bed.  We’ll see what happens on Saturday!

Yes, I’m still avoiding the review that’s going to require more thought and emotional commitment.  On the other hand, I finished listening to Birds of a Feather last night–the second installment in Jacqueline Winspear’s ‘Maisie Dobbs’ series–so I’m reviewing that, and that’s something, right?

First of all, I definitely enjoyed Birds of a Feather enough to keep going in the series; the setting is a draw for me, but I also find the characters worth spending time with, as a whole.  Hired to track down a missing heiress, Maisie finds herself investigating the murders of a group of women who formed a group in their school days and immediately afterwards.  Her assistant, on the other hand, has been struggling more and more with the chronic pain from his war wound, and his efforts to control it form a side plot that ultimately connects Maisie’s London life with her Kent roots.  There were a few plot devices that frustrated me–yes, Maisie, you absolutely SHOULD inform the DI that you found a specific item at two different crime scenes as well as the scene of a “suicide,” and surely you’re smart enough to preemptively inform that same DI about your assistant’s visit to a murder victim instead of thinking that perhaps someone else of the same description did so on the same day–but overall, the setting and story won me over.  I’ll be interested to see what the next installment brings!

That’s me tonight, folks.  I STILL haven’t reviewed the book I finished–two weeks ago, I think?  I keep not having the energy to really write at night, it being December and all.  Tonight I sort of had the energy, but I used it all to write the Christmas letter that kind of wanted to be written last week.  I’d feel worse about this if I weren’t pretty sure that December is like this for just about everyone; as it is, I’ll shoot for Tuesday.  Good night (and good luck!) to us all!

And when I say indescribably, I really do mean it; Julia Stuart’s The Tower, the Zoo, and the Tortoise cannot be summarized in a way that expresses properly why you should read it.  It’s about the Tower of London–it’s about grief–it’s about a withering marriage–it’s about exotic animals–it’s about finding someone (or someTHING) to care about in unexpected places.  And on every page, it’s written with a humor that’s part deadpan, part detached, part matter-of-fact, and part consciously hilarious, that made me want to clap and giggle and hand this book to strangers on the street.  To be fair, you have to enjoy a more British style of humor, but that’s about the only restriction I can think of for you.  The ending is completely satisfying, so don’t worry about that–just sit back and enjoy your ride through a historic place filled with modern people who have timeless issues to be resolved!

My 6-year-old son’s Christmas list:

2 boxes of Sprite and 2 boxes of Root beer and 3 boxes of orange Fanta and one of those mini Friges to put all of sodas in   a jump rope  a chismas tree made of soda boxes  a minecraft shirt  a minecraft blanket a minecraft chismas hat  my front tooth  a minekraft jacket a car blaneket like my Jake blanket

a Kindle

a shirt with someone from Dude Perfect on it

Note:  I recreated the spelling faithfully, which I thought was pretty dang good for a kid not quite six and a half.  He fixed the first three Minecrafts but missed the fourth; the last two were additions relayed verbally at bedtime and therefore actually written by my hubby and me.  By car blanket he means one with Lightning McQueen on it, BIG instead of a lot of little Lightnings all over.

1.  So much fun!
2.  Those kids were all in.  I did love my small-town high school, but it had neither the numbers nor the priorities to make something like that happen.
3.  I have awesome in-laws, which hey! I already knew.
4.  I did NOT know that in the Broadway version, the reporter is a)female and b)Pulitzer’s daughter.  That was a little weird.
5.  Also less believable, but possibly more fun for a high school crowd?
6.  Some friends from our neighborhood ALSO had cousins in it.  It’s a small musical world out there.
7.  My 6-year-old son was bored, as I suspected he might be.  His very favorite, most adored cousin was in it, though, so I’m not sure he would have handled being left behind at Grandma’s with his little sister; it’s just that “Newsies” is really not a story geared towards first graders.
8. He fell asleep in my arms towards the end, which doesn’t happen anymore.  A moment to treasure as he keeps growing up.
9.  My 12-year-old nailed the “which song will be stuck in our heads as we’re leaving” prediction.  I thought for sure it would be “Carrying the Banner” or “Seize the Day”, but nope.  “King of New York” won out.
10.  Oh, the energy!  I miss being part of a performance.
11.  Watching my older daughters and their 10-year-old cousin run around and get autographs from kid after kid was, quite simply, adorable.  And I’ll bet the admiration in their eyes made those high school performers feel about 10 feet tall.
12.  Totally worth it–even given the overtired drama we were still having tonight.  Go see for yourselves!

Have you read Svetlana Chmakova’s Berrybrook Middle School books?  I went in to the first one not knowing how I was going to like it, but Awkward proved to be excellent and Brave was as good or possibly even better.  Crush came out this fall and finally came in at our local library a week or two ago; I wasn’t sure how much of an enjoyable plot the premise would provide, but I shouldn’t have doubted Chmakova.  While Raina Telgemeier’s Drama just made me desperately glad that I was OUT OF JUNIOR HIGH, Crush involved me in the characters and felt relatable for me as well as my two older girlies.  That might be due to the personality of the protagonist–Jorge is likable and self-confident in the kinds of ways that make him a good friend and his own person–but I also think it’s the kind of story being told.  Drama works for its audience in a wholly different kind of way; Crush is relatable for just about everybody.  I didn’t actually know what I wanted from a book called Crush, to be honest with you, but really, this was better than I could have imagined.  Each book in Chmakova’s group is fully capable of standing alone, but if you haven’t read them all, you should absolutely do it–they’re ALL fantastic!  In the meantime, a fourth book hasn’t been announced yet, but my girlies and I are hoping!

Once you know an author you love has died, each book of his/hers that you read becomes one less book to be read by that author–ever.  (Which is just sad.)  I finished Richard Peck’s The Mouse with the Question Mark Tail night before last, and that began that mental countdown for me, and–ugh.  Why can’t certain authors just live forever?  And yes, there are amazing new authors out there, but still.

The Mouse with the Question Mark Tail is the tale of a mouse who doesn’t know his name–they call him Mouse Minor at school, and his “aunt” who is raising him (he thinks it unlikely that they’re actually related) keeps telling him “Nameless is blameless” when he asks–or anything about his parentage; he decides to approach and ask Queen Victoria, whose diamond jubilee is days away.  Peck succeeds in imbuing the story with a British tone, although not the kind of British feel you get with a British author; if Wilkie Collins and Arthur Conan Doyle had co-written The Tale of Despereaux with Kate DiCamillo, you might get Question Mark Tail‘s close cousin.  It’s amusing–funny seems too in-your-face a word for the sort of humor going on here–and fast moving, with more than one running joke that I particularly enjoyed.  My library lists it as a sequel to Secrets at Sea, which I don’t remember enough about to comment on; it’s not at all in the same vein as any of his Grandma Dowdel books, OR his ghost stories, but Richard Peck’s ability to write in several completely different styles is one of the impressive things about him.  If you like adventure tales (about animals!) that take place across the pond, this one’s for you.

My oldest is excitedly participating in her school’s ‘Battle of the Books’ this year–you read as many as you can off of a specific list of books, and then are part of a team that answers trivia questions about them all–and many of the books on the list are also Beehive nominees (the Beehive Book Award being Utah’s children’s choice award for literature).  One of the ones she had me check out of the library for her was 5 Worlds Book 1:  The Sand Warrior, by a whole slew of authors (seriously!).  Since it’s a graphic novel, my 4th grader wanted to read it as well; I went ahead and read it, too, and now I must review it so that I can put the next one on hold so that they can get their grasping little hands on it.

Essentially, it’s a fantasy graphic novel with familiar themes–separated siblings, the protagonist who doesn’t feel she can measure up, class misunderstandings, and differing theories about how to fix the serious problems the fantasy universe is experiencing–but a rather original setting.  (At least, I thought so, but to be fair, I don’t read a ton of fantasy!)  There are sand dancers with sand aniforms that they’re supposed to control, ancient beacons that some people think need to be lit to save the worlds and others would die to prevent their lighting, and an interesting trio of friends.  My girls were more into it than I was, but that’s purely because it’s less my thing; my only real issue was that I found it a bit difficult to keep track of all of the different peoples and worlds (I’m assuming that will get easier in subsequent books?).  Graphic novel fantasy/adventure fans, this is for you!

You know what stinks?  Googling an author to see if he/she has a new book out that you haven’t read and catching “was” in the description of the author.  As in, “Richard Peck was an American novelist known for his prolific contributions to modern young adult literature.”  He apparently died in May–how did I miss that?!–and it’s going to take me some time to process the fact that there will be no more new books from the mind that gave us A Long Way From Chicago and A Year Down Yonder.  If you haven’t read anything by him–in which case I’m torn between pity for your colorless life up until now and envy that you have all of his books still to discover–I’d start with those two.

Excuse me while I grieve–and possibly reread–in peace.