Eat, Read, and Be Mommy

Yeah, I spaced my last post, which is what happens when you’ve been gone and you’re tired and suddenly out of the habit. On the other hand, I finished Whitney Gardner’s Fake Blood today, which makes my review choice a no brainer–and an unexpected pleasure. Now, full disclosure: I’ve had this book checked out for YEARS, because it was on the Granite Battle of the Books list in 2019. I kept not getting to it, however, until I finally decided (in the last couple of months or so) that I was going to make a concerted effort to catch up on the graphic novels languishing on my shelf. I’m not sure what made me pull Fake Blood out–maybe knowing that I’ve had it forever?–but I’m seriously glad I did.

So…if you took Northanger Abbey, and you made it a contemporary graphic novel spoofing vampire stories of the last 35 years, and then you crossed it with Barbra Streisand’s “Yentl”, I feel like you might a)think I’m a little nuts for suggesting it but b)get a decent sense of Gardner’s graphic novel. This book is HILARIOUS, people. As someone who worked at Borders (may it rest in peace) during the Twilight craze and who’s seen at least an episode or two of “Buffy, the Vampire Slayer”, this spoof/adventure/school story/all of the above cracked me up. I hate to spoil any of the plot for you, but I suppose it’s safe to say that AJ wants to impress Nia, who’s super into vampires, and…complications ensue. Middle graders should enjoy this, but my generation ought to enjoy it as much or more; do yourself a favor and get your hands on a copy this week.

It’s totally worth it.

I got way more sleep at Girls’ Camp as a young woman than I do as a leader, but I need it more now–which is why, even though we got back on Wednesday, I’m just now coming back online. It went well and I’m very glad I went, but oh, the tired!

Anyway.

Tonight I finished reading Audrey Couloumbis’ Lexie aloud to my tween, and she and I both quite liked it. It’s not a book with heroes or villains or mysteries, but rather a quiet slice of family life, sensitively presented. Lexie is headed to the shore for time with her dad, but when they arrive, he drops a bomb in her lap; enter Vicky (his “friend”) and her two sons, Ben and Harris. (The latter prefers ‘Mack’. As in the truck.) What follows is, of course, quite a different shore experience than Lexie is expecting. There are adjustments, there is frustration, there are unexpected moments of joy–and, ultimately, there is open communication. This isn’t a read for kids who love adventure stories, but it’s an excellent option for members of blended (or looking at blending) families. Couloumbis (yes, that’s really how you spell her last name) excels at emotional insight, which is likely why her Getting Near to Baby is a Newbery Honor book; she’s an author well worth your time.

Oh, my goodness. Between a trip to Idaho, a wedding, appointments all over the place, and getting ready for Girls Camp, that was a longer break than I’d intended; I might still be on break, honestly, except that I want to send Natalie Jenner’s The Jane Austen Society to Idaho with the contingent that’s leaving today. I was lucky enough to win an ARC of it from St. Martin’s Publishing Group, and having thoroughly enjoyed it, I’m sending it along to my sister so that she can do so as well.

Jenner’s novel involves an unlikely group of Jane Austen fans in postwar England; all of them have dealt (or are dealing) with loss, and Austen’s novels have proven therapeutic for each of them. There is true pathos here–England’s suffering during both world wars as well as the sometimes hardness of life–and yet it’s a hopeful novel, with a satisfying ending and sly representatives of key Austen characters. (I struggled a bit with Mimi’s attraction to Jack, but that’s not to say it was unrealistic, and that plot line may be the slyest representation of them all.) Fans of Austen will be delighted, but this is a solid story in its own right, and anyone who enjoys historical fiction ought to pick it up. I’m looking forward to more Jenner novels to come!

I finished The Secret Science Alliance and the Copycat Crook tonight and just realized that while it sounds like a series–it seems like it ought to be a series–it’s NOT a series. Not even a trilogy or duology, folks. It’s ONE book.

That’s a wicked bummer.

Still, though, if you have kids who enjoy science, gadgets, and/or graphic novels, this tale of an inventing trio should be right up their alley. I got a kick out of it myself, even though the quantity of things to look at on some of the pages was occasionally overwhelming. Eleanor Davis even weaves in a theme of self-esteem and self-acceptance, giving it a bit more depth than it might have had. If your kiddos have graduated from the “Lunch Lady” books and are looking for something up a reading level or two, check this one out.

In other news, I’m taking a week or so off for some family time, so you don’t have to worry that I’m spacing again. See you in the June-teens!

It’s not that Rita Williams-Garcia’s P.S. Be Eleven is a meh book, because it’s not; it’s just that I can’t decide how I feel about it. On the one hand, it’s a compelling story that brings its time period alive, and what’s not to love about that? On the other hand, it’s a hard story, and Delphine’s correspondence with her mother didn’t–quite–work for me. Cecile has been a terrible mother, truly, and even knowing her backstory can’t change that. Her choice of writing style in her letters seemed to me at first to be utterly pretentious, and I only made my peace with it by thinking of her as a sort of autistic savant. Whether she is that or is meant only to be a product of her difficult early years I don’t know, but this mother has trouble accepting motherly wisdom and insight from someone who has chosen not to mother her children and then speaks disparagingly of the woman who has. (Not that Big Ma is perfect, by any means, but she showed up and mothered.) As for the rest of the book–there is beauty, but it’s a hard beauty. Hard things happen to Delphine and her sisters, and while their father’s decisions do work in historical context, the parent in me wanted to smack him more than once. My favorite development was the subtle changes in the sisters’ relationship, which are worth experiencing.

Basically, at the end of the day, it’s a good book; I’m going to put its sequel on hold after finishing this review. It’s not, however, a lighthearted read–or a perfect one.

Do with that what you will.

Tonight I read Kathi Appelt’s Down Cut Shin Creek: The Pack Horse Librarians of Kentucky to my 11-year-old, and it was rather nice to have a read-aloud that the two of us could manage in one night. (By the way, it appears to be co-authored by one Jeanne Canella Schmitzer.) It was briefly fascinating, with a solid collection of period photographs, and the topic is one that deserves to be more widely known. I did think its organization was a little iffy–the “typical day” narrative, while a definite asset to the book, blended imperfectly with the fully nonfiction portion–but at under 60 pages, it’s accessible nonfiction for later elementary school, and that matters. Let me know what you and your kiddos think!

My wonderful Uncle Shane–who prefers not be to addressed as “Uncle”–came this morning, which means that we are now wired for a dishwasher AND a garbage disposal. Hooray! That’s one more step in our ongoing sink saga.

In other news, we tried “Mr. Beast Burger” for dinner tonight–decent burgers, but the fries were too spicy for at least four of us. Afterwards, when the younger kiddos were showered and our 6-year-old was tucked into bed, I finished reading The Impossible Journey to my 11-year-old. Funny story about that book–I had it checked out for my oldest, who read another Gloria Whelan book in school and then read Angel on the Square because she wanted another book by her. It sat on my shelf first, because I wanted to read it, dang it!, until long after she’d lost interest*; my 11-year-old’s teacher, however, read Angel on the Square aloud to her class this year, and I jumped at the chance to read its sequel together.

The Impossible Journey focuses on Katya and Misha’s children. When their parents are arrested by the Soviet government, Marya and Georgi stay with a neighbor at first; ultimately, however, they set out to find their parents in Siberia and join them there. It is a long journey, and while they are lucky and it turns out to be successful, Whelan shows us enough of life in Russia at the time that it’s not all smiles. My sensitive girlie wanted to quit after our first session; I had to peek ahead and assure her that they found her parents to get her over that first impression. It didn’t take terribly long to sweep her into the story, however, and she was plenty insistent on reading as much as possible each time! Whelan’s writing is not the stuff of legends, exactly, but there’s a need for accessible historical fiction for the average reader, and she definitely helps fill that need. This is worth reading, especially since stories for children about Russia’s difficulties aren’t exactly legion. My girlie is solidly committed to the next book in the quartet, so stay tuned…

I know I was due for a post yesterday, but our plumber friend had the time to install our new sink last night, and while dinner was about feeding my niece, nephew, and great-nephew as well as my own kiddos, after dinner became all about the sink. It’s now installed–yay!–but awaiting an adjustment to the new disposal to prevent leakage; that disposal will also not be operational until we get wired for the dishwasher, which is currently plugged into the disposal outlet. (When we moved in, the house had neither but was wired for the disposal; I cared WAY more about the dishwasher. And still do.) Unfortunately, due to the pipe arrangements underneath, the disposal is under the big side of the sink, not the little side, which is what I was hoping for. So sad! Such is life, however, and the bigger concern is the whole “my-sink-is-sagging” issue that I’m not sure how to fix at the moment, lacking the immediate funds for new counters and cabinets. Moving on from THAT…

I did manage to finish Becoming Brianna today, which has taken an embarrassingly long time. I enjoyed it, too, although I wish I remembered Just Jaime a little better. Libenson’s “Emmie & Friends” series combines relatable middle school problems with expressive art, and Bri’s struggle to prepare for her bat mitzvah feels real. The friend and parent frustrations are perhaps less believable, but they further the plot and bring it to a satisfying conclusion, and that’s sometimes what matters, right? (Also what matters is that I finally finished the book, since Truly Tyler just came out.) Middle grade girls should for sure enjoy the first books in this series; I’m not so sure about middle grade boys, but perhaps the newest installment will change that. Happy reading!

I’m not feeling too guilty about missing on the 22nd, because I ended up taking the kiddos to Clearfield to see my two nieces in “Seussical Jr.”, and they were in two separate shows. They were fabulous, honestly–it was a pleasure to see them. Unfortunately, I didn’t actually process the fact that it was going to be outside, so I was doubly grateful that my sister-in-law had sunscreen with her. (I also took my littles off to the side after intermission, because I’d rather sit on concrete in the shade than on a bench in the sun. I really loathe the sun.) We roasted during the 2:00 show and then I was grateful to borrow a jacket from my mother-in-law for the 7:00, since the sun had disappeared. Such is life! Between the songs stuck in MY head and the ones my 11-year-old has been singing and finding on YouTube, we’re going to be remembering the experience for quite some time.

Anyway. Today I made jam, because NPS had 2 lb packages of nice-looking strawberries for $1.50 apiece, which is unreal. (Especially for this year. I haven’t even seen strawberries below $2/lb before this past weekend, and that’s unusual.) Tomorrow? Perhaps I’ll buy ricotta and there will be strawberry ricotta muffins! In the meantime, I’m poopered. Goodnight all!

Is it ‘the more things change, the more they remain the same’? That’s how I felt about Victoria Brown’s Minding Ben, a novel that my friend received an ARE of and, when she stepped back from blogging, passed on to me. First picture Anne Bronte’s Agnes Grey. (Haven’t read it? I’ll save you the trouble–being a governess in the 19th century sucks. That pretty much sums up the book.) Then add in a few 19th century novels about the urban poor, racism, classism, and gender politics. Top it off with a dash of A Tale of Two Cities–the uncaring rich bit–and set it all in 1989. Make your governess a West Indian babysitter (her preferred term), add way more F-words than I ever want to experience, and you’ve got Minding Ben in a nutshell. Is it interesting? Disturbingly so. Is it compelling? Painfully. Does it make you think about all of the things it’s talking about? Absolutely. Is it enjoyable to read? Unfortunately, less so for me. I couldn’t situationally identify with any of the characters, and while the West Indian accents were beautifully done and immeasurably enriched the audio version I experienced, the F-words did quite the opposite. Whether or not you opt to read it is your call, depending on whether the idea appeals.

I’m passing my copy on.