Bloggers vs. Book Reviewers

It's like one of those pro wrestling smackdowns. In one corner, we have the Blazing Blogger, apparently a stay-at-home mom with a toddler at her knee and an infant in her arms. She wields a mean board book, so watch out! In the other corner, we have Boudica the Book Reviewer (formerly known as Boadicea—check an actual encyclopedia, not Wikipedia, please). Her weapon is an ARC, but paperbacks can be deceptively powerful, so go ahead and hold your breath.

Is there trash talking? Why, of course!

Boudica: Unprofessional mommy person!

Blazing: Ivory tower snob!

Boudica: Illiterate wench!

Blazing: Hey, I have a master's degree in library science!

Boudica: But, those children...

Blazing: They're props. I borrowed them from a neighbor.*

Boudica: You're still not one of Us.

Blazing: If, by Us, you mean avid readers with intelligent opinions, am too.

Boudica: Are not!

Blazing: Am too!

Boudica: Did you sit through graduate-level classes about Othello's childhood?

Blazing: Worse. Post-modern feminist influences in Lord of the Flies.

Hearing this, Boudica recoils, but she soon recovers...

We'll leave these warriors to their blistering repartee and their book-shaped facial slaps. What is it that has had both the folks commenting on Roger Reads and the ones discussing blog-related issues in the Kidlitosphere community up in arms this summer? Two major questions: (1) Is a blogger qualified to talk about children's books, let alone create an actual Review? (2) Are bloggers unduly influenced by publishers and—even more alarming—by PR/marketing types slinking around in raincoats like flashers?

The discussions were lively, somewhat troubling, and perhaps overly earnest; they were also intelligent. The following are some of the critiques of (children's book) blogging as I recall them:

1. Bloggers take money out of the mouths of professional book reviewers.
2. Bloggers rely almost entirely on Personal Taste, a dubious criterion.
3. Bloggers are self-selected, which means their qualifications vary wildly.
4. The so-called "love of books" is a tawdry excuse for writing something which falsely resembles a book review.
5. Bloggers are obsessed with seeing their words in a public forum. It's the same kind of self-promotion you see on MySpace and Facebook, only with books involved.
6. Bloggers are bought and sold by marketing reps and publishers (think politicians and lobbyists).

Then there are these concerns:

7. Bloggers who run contests are subject to undue influence.
8. Bloggers who participate in blog tours are subject to undue influence.
9. Bloggers who accept ARCs are subject to undue influence.

And my personal favorite:

10. Kidlit bloggers only read each other's blogs. Since nobody out there is listening, who cares?

Nevertheless, for better or for worse, many see bloggers as a rising voice in the world of publishing. Here are some of the pro-blogger points:

--Bloggers are people who love books and talking about them, so they promote literacy. In fact, some bloggers specifically campaign for literacy.
--On a related note, blogging creates a giant, international book club. The more people who talk about books, the better.
--Book reviewers and bloggers are on the same page (pun obviously intended). They should unite to defend books against the encroachment of video games and their ilk.
--Loving books is not, amazingly enough, a Bad Thing that should disqualify one from speaking about specific books with any degree of intelligence. It is even suspected that professional reviewers love books!
--ARCs are simply a way for bloggers to get their hands on books. Most bloggers don't lie about which books they like just to please publishers. (Same thing with giveaways and blog tours, at least in my experience. Send me stuff at your own risk, Paulie PR!)
--Bloggers write for people who read books, not for publishers and their marketing departments. They're just as happy if you get a book at a library as at a bookstore.
--Bloggers have range and creativity; being independents gives them a kind of "Emperor's New Clothes" freedom.
--Bloggers bring a variety of fresh voices to a sometimes-stagnant dialogue about children's books.
--Then again, many of the best bloggers talking about children's books are librarians. Essentially, they're drawn from the same pool of talent as the professional reviewers.
--Even the much-maligned "Mommy Blogger" is often a bright, well-educated individual with actual thought processes. (Pregnancy doesn't destroy that many brain cells. And it's an urban myth that a woman's college degrees burst into flames when she brings a baby home from the hospital.)
--The difference between "I personally liked this book so maybe you will, too" and "Here's a literary analysis of this book" is fairly clear.
--As in any field of endeavor, ethical, talented bloggers tend to stand out.

I will note that this debate parallels last fall's debate about the Newbery selection process, boiling down to the great question of literary vs. commercial publications, or rather academic vs. popular taste. The final selection, Neil Gaiman's The Graveyard Book, is a more-than-fortunate blend of both. (I have since been amused by all the swooning librarians who are enchanted by Gaiman's accent and neo-Byronesque smolder. I was even more amused by James Kennedy's faux Newbery challenge!)

In addition to considering points of logic, we should consider outcomes, the true targets of this uneasy talk about blogging. Perhaps the most worrisome outcome is that bloggers are being quoted on book jackets as if they were reviewers for Booklist and School Library Journal and the Horn Book Magazine. Most readers don't know the difference between a pro reviewer and a possibly compromised blogger. Does that make these blogger blurbs a problem?

I would have to say no, and not because I'm a blogger. Rather, I'm a cynic. When I look around, I see a vast corporate marketing machine dominating the nation, if not the world. (Conspiracy theorists, come on down!) I'm not the only one who thinks like this, of course. What's really funny is that most book buyers don't know the significance of Booklist and School Library Journal and the Horn Book Magazine. What they do know, after hours of TV viewing, is that anyone shilling a product is probably paid to do so. At the very least, they realize that the person quoted is expressing an individual opinion. I'm guessing Mom and Pop Reader take any and all back jacket quotations and associated hype with a big old shaker of salt.

Parents are wa-a-a-ay more interested in whether the jacket art is appealing, the flap copy sounds good, and, most important, whether Johnny has the slightest interest in the book they're waving in his direction. I mean, have you ever walked through the children's section of Barnes and Noble? The opinion of a sales clerk is the only possible source of information parents seek out, and they don't always do that. (Insert fully deserved plug for independent bookstores here.)

Frankly, people who care about books are lucky when a kid will agree to buy something that's not based on either a TV show or a toy commercial disguised as a movie.

Yes, bloggers are undeniably treading on the toes of the pros. But I suspect they're not taking over the world, at least not yet. I do cringe when book reviewers talk about bloggers as if they're uneducated hicks, completely vulnerable to the machinations of book publicists. The blogs I've been reading are written by a very educated group of people who have thoughtful things to say about books.

As for me, I've never taken a children's lit class. (Just things like Faulkner, the Greek tragedies, linguistics, and education.) Mostly, what I've done is read thousands of children's books for 43 years and write a few of my own. I'd like to think that makes me something of an expert.


*PC Disclaimer: Let it be acknowledged that some librarians actually procreate, negating the need for borrowing children in order to participate in imaginary wrestling matches with book reviewers.

Dragon Pages

I'm all excited because the new pages are up on my author's website for The Runaway Dragon (coming out September 1)! Check them out. They're like DVD extras on my semi-sprawling site. Thanks to Barb Aeschliman of Jaleroro Web Designs for her wonderful work in bringing my ideas to life. The pages are "Malison's To Do List" (Malison being an evil teen sorceress), "Naming a Dragon," and "Squirrel Stuff."

Plus I added "Half the Kingdom," the short story that partly inspired The Runaway Princess, while I was at it.

(And now, back to our regular programming!)

On Vacation - Here's a Fun Link!

I will be on vacation out of town for the next week, in the land of Mac computers and family obligations. I'll be back posting next weekend. And for this weekend, here's a fun link, a fan-made anime version of back-to-back movie trailers for Twilight and New Moon. Yes, you too can see parts of Edward and Bella's story acted out by anime characters, with Japanese voiceover and English subtitles!

A Review of When You Reach Me by Rebecca Stead

When You Reach Me is the kind of book that wins the Newbery Award. Remember that next year, because I will be very surprised if this doesn't get at least a Newbery Honor, or even win.

It's the kind of book where various bits and pieces manage to seem symbolic even as they do a perfectly good job of carrying the story along. How can a story full of such ordinary details seem so intense and cosmic? Perhaps the greatest trick the author pulls off is to put in vats of significance without adding even one viscous drop of that goop, pomposity.

When You Reach Me is a book that weaves in another book, A Wrinkle in Time, for more than one reason.

It's a book that talks about friendship in a way few books have. Among them is Louise Fitzhugh's Harriet the Spy, another book which is alluded to once here, albeit obliquely.

And even though When You Reach Me is a book about kids and friendship, I spent the whole thing in a near-breathless state of suspense. Because something bad is obviously going to happen—probably. So this book is also a mystery. Maybe it will win an Edgar award, too.

When You Reach Me reminds me a little of Markus Zusak's book for teens, I Am the Messenger, except that the ending of this one works better.

Is When You Reach Me science fiction? Fantasy? Magical realism? A coming of age story? Not so coincidentally, the same questions have been asked about A Wrinkle in Time. I was reshelving my own library by genre the other day and stood there for five minutes with L'Engle's book in my hand, trying to decide where it should go. I never really came up with a satisfactory answer. (Louis Sachar's Holes is a little like that, as well.)

There's something poetic about this book. Listen to sixth grader Miranda's voice, clear as the air on a mountaintop:

When we were too little for school, Sal and I went to day care together at a lady's apartment down the block. She had picked up some carpet samples at a store on Amsterdam Avenue and written the kids' names on the backs. After lunch, she'd pass out these carpet squares and we'd pick our spots on the living room floor for nap time. Sal and I always lined ours up to make a rectangle.

One time, when Sal had a fever and Louisa had called in sick to her job and kept him home, the day-care lady handed me my carpet square at nap time, and then, a second later, she gave me Sal's, too.

"I know how it is, baby," she said.

And then I lay on her floor not sleeping because Sal wasn't there to press his foot against mine.

So please, follow Miranda around and try to figure out why her best friend, Sal, is avoiding her. Check out the two-dollar bills, the V-cut, Alice's bathroom dance, and Julia's silver bracelet. Wonder for yourself why the homeless guy on the corner sleeps with his face under the mailbox, also whether Miranda's mom will win when she goes on Dick Clark's game show, The $20,000 Pyramid. It's 1978, sort of. And everything matters more than you think.

Note: Although When You Reach Me is listed on Amazon in one spot as being a YA book, it's listed elsewhere as being for ages 9-12. The publisher, Wendy Lamb (Random House), lists the book as suitable for readers ages 9-14. So I'll stick with my Newbery prediction rather than the Printz!

A Review of Clover Twig and the Magical Cottage by Kaye Umansky

Clover Twig is practical. Clover Twig is brave. And Clover Twig needs a job. So when she finds out that a woman everyone says is a witch is advertising for a "STOrNg gRIL To CLEEN," Clover happily applies. Having gotten past a cranky talking gate, she soon proves her worth to Mrs. Eckles and is hired. Clover ignores her family's worries and settles into the new job—which proves far more interesting than originally anticipated.

You've gotta love a book with chapter titles like "First Off, Are You Stupid?" (That would be part of the job interview, of course. How many interviewers over the years have wanted to come right out and say THAT?)

Clover Twig and the Magical Cottage is a cheerful, rollicking story, which is one of my favorite kinds of fantasy. Clover eventually realizes that a mysterious enemy is after something in the witch's cottage, or possibly after the cottage itself. She is joined in her adventures by a klutz named Wilf who has no idea that he is already a pawn in the hands of a bad witch named Mesmeranza.

In counterpoint to Clover's story, the author lets us in on what Mesmeranza is up to. The spoiled villainess reminds me of the evil sorceress in Vivian French's The Robe of Skulls. At least, Umansky's Mesmeranza would really appreciate that robe. After all, she lives in a castle and collects great shoes. She also has a Plan, along with a motley crew of minions who are some of the most entertaining characters in this book—among them Miss Fly, the cat-loving (and cat-allergic) secretary, plus a couple of dungeon keepers named Humperdunk Chunk and Jimbo Squint. The sorceress's plans, which include leaving enchanted cakes on the cottage doorstep, are endearingly melodramatic. I almost feel sorry for Mesmeranza because, being a woman, she can't grow a long moustache and twirl it while practicing her evil laugh.

Naturally, Clover and Wilf end up in Mesmeranza's dungeons after failing to protect Mrs. Eckles's magical property. But never fear: they're sure to escape and save the day. Clover Twig is clever as well as funny, and it has prompted me to order a copy of one of the author's previous books, Solomon Snow and the Silver Spoon. In a year of sometimes indistinguishable fantasies, many of them ponderously dark and YA-ish, Clover Twig and the Magical Cottage offers middle grade readers a refreshing change.

Note: Umansky is a British author, and this book was originally published in Great Britain with a more spoilerish title. See also my post on British whimsy from April 18, as Clover Twig qualifies!

A Review of The Secret of Zoom by Lynne Jonell

I quite liked the author's previous book, Emmy and the Incredible Shrinking Rat, plus its sequel, Emmy and the Home for Troubled Girls. I'm not as thrilled with her new book, The Secret of Zoom, due out September 1.

The Secret of Zoom is an adventure story with some science that reads more like magic, since it's all based on the properties of an imaginary substance, a sort of mineral deposit called zoom.

Here we have mistreated orphans, the lonely rich girl in the house on the hill, a missing mother, and a dastardly villain who reminds me of the bad guy in Fortune's Magic Farm by Suzanne Selfors. (We also have an odd little diatribe about how to teach math, though perhaps I only caught that because I'm a teacher.)

Zoom offers us a lot of fun details, like the way orphans are culled for an unpleasant secret mission based on their singing ability, not to mention miniature zoom-powered planes, secret tunnels, and mad scientists.

So yes, The Secret of Zoom is a fairly entertaining read. I just can't help thinking that it could have been a better one. When I read Clover Twig and the Magical Cottage (see review above), I found myself sucked into the story. I'm always reading more than one book, and I'll confess I set Zoom aside repeatedly for other things. Clover Twig brought me back much more easily. And then there's When You Reach Me (see even higher above!), which I devoured in one sitting.

Zoom's plot didn't capture my heart any more than its characters did. I'm on board with all kinds of fantasy, but I'm not sure the zoom premise works as written here. And the missing mother subplot feels a little hokey, although I'll admit that's a hard one to pull off. Then there's the orphan Taft: he makes a nice counterpart to Christina, but I don't feel convinced by their friendship.

While your child might enjoy this story very much, it wouldn't be my first pick in the bookstore.

Note for Worried Parents: In addition to child labor, you'll find one really gruesome detail in The Secret of Zoom about what is done to unsatisfactory orphans. The rest of the story is an adventurous romp, but that bit might give you pause.

Shelley Moore Thomas's Good Knight

There are a lot of forgettable easy readers out there, unfortunately. Notable exceptions include Arnold Lobel's Frog and Toad books, which are brilliantly written, though they may feel a little quiet for some of today's kids; Dr. Seuss's easy readers, such as the iconic Green Eggs and Ham; James Marshall's Fox books; and Mo Willems's Elephant and Piggie books, those shiny new masterpieces. Joanna Cole's Bony Legs is a marvelous easy reader retelling the Baba Yaga story. I've had older students and boys like that one, probably because it's a little scary. And speaking of scary, Alvin Schwartz's In a Dark, Dark Room and Other Scary Stories is another good easy reader, especially for boys. Two more classic easy readers are P.D. Eastman's Are You My Mother? and Nancy Gurney's The King, the Mice and the Cheese, while Dr. Seuss's Hop on Pop and Eastman's Go Dog. Go! are the easiest of the classics I recommend. (The latter is surprisingly long. It should be read in sections and thoroughly savored.)

Another series I adore for this group of readers is Jonathan London's Froggy books. They're not billed as easy readers, but with a little support, they make a nice transitional tool. The first book, Froggy Gets Dressed, is still my favorite, with its wonderful onomatopoeia and its call-and-response between Froggy and his mother.

Anyway, I recently came across Shelley Moore Thomas's Good Knight books and have happily added them to my repertoire of worthwhile easy readers, particularly for boys. The first book was no doubt inspired by a play on words: Good Night, Good Knight. We start off with an introduction to three dragons, but they're not quite the dragons you might expect:

Once there were three little dragons. They lived in a dark cave. The cave was in a dense forest. The forest was in a faraway kingdom. The poor little dragons were very lonely in their deep dark cave.

And where you have dragons, of course you have a knight. But he's not what you'd expect, either. Then again, the dragons throw him off his game:

He came to the deep dark cave. Inside he saw the first little dragon. "What's this?" he asked. "Methinks it is a dragon!" And he drew his shimmery, glimmery sword. The dragon had on his jammies. He was all ready for bed. "Oh good. You have come," said the dragon. "Could you bring me a drink of water? Please. Then I can go to sleep."

Yep, the Good Knight soon finds himself acting as a sort of guardian to three little dragons. Basically, all of his adventures consist of dealing with the trouble the dragons get into. After he puts them to bed with various complications in the first book, we find him taking care of sick dragons in Book Two. ("Methinks I heard a sneeze," said the Good Knight.) He ends up getting help from a wizard, and then from his mother.

Our hero celebrates his birthday with his three charges in the third book, Happy Birthday, Good Knight. He doesn't guess why the dragons want his help coming up with a present for someone special, and their attempts to make a gift result in more than one mess. Three little dragons can use an amazing amount of glue when making a birthday card!

Books Four and Five switch to a picture book format, so I guess I'm cheating here, but maybe your reader will be able to practice in a slightly tougher format with your help. Take Care, Good Knight is the story about what happens when three little dragons attempt to pet sit for an old, old wizard. But when an old, old wizard leaves you a note telling you how to care for his seven cats and you can't actually read, you're bound to misinterpret his drawings and make some mistakes. Fortunately, the Good Knight is willing to act in an advisory capacity after the cats are put in a cupboard, among other mishaps.

The author's most recent book is A Cold Winter's Good Knight, in which it's too cold for the dragons to stay in their cave, so the Good Knight brings them to the castle. However, there's a ball in progress and the dragons have no idea how to behave. They raise a ruckus as the knight repeatedly tries to instruct them in castle etiquette.

Jennifer Plecas's line drawings, with their bug-eyed baby dragons and their slightly harassed-looking knight, suit this series like a good coat of armor. While her work has a cartoonish feel, the loose lines bring it back into the realm of illustration. It's a nice balancing act.

If you have a kindergartner or first grader at home who's done with Green Eggs and Ham and wondering what to read next, give this series a try. The combination of the author's sense of humor with the fresh premise of a knight fostering baby dragons makes it a charming alternative for the easy reader crowd.

Update: The author dropped by this post and let us know she has a new Good Knight book coming out next year, so look for it!

Harry Potter Prize Pack Winners

The results are in! And by the way, I simply did a drawing. Because we ended up touching on grief situations, I felt it was inappropriate for me to select any of the winners personally. So here are the names of the five winners:

• Silverhartgirl


• Roswell


• Shooting Stars Mag


• Robin Titan


• SMD

CONGRATULATIONS! (And no, I did not do this alphabetically! It just so happened that all of the winners started with R and S!)

If you are a winner, please e-mail your snail mail address to me at author at katecoombs dot com, which is also linked from my author's website. I will then have the books sent to you. Note that it may take a few weeks, as I am not the actual sender. As for the rest of you, like me, you will have to console yourselves by seeing the movie.

Ten Books at a Time

I was at a friend's house the other day when she mentioned that her 8-year-old son, whom I'll call Mark, doesn't like to read very much. She has him on a summer reading schedule of 20 minutes a day, but he fights her constantly.

"What's he reading?" I asked. She brought out the latest book to show me. I also interrogated her son, who clearly suspected that if he admitted to liking any kind of book at all, he would be forced to read more. After further pestering, he begrudgingly acknowledged a fondness for action and sci-fi.

I took a closer look at the book. It was contemporary realism about a kid who tries to build a spaceship out of cardboard boxes. He then pretends to have adventures in it. There were also some family problems, but I got the picture. This was the wrong book for my friend's son.

After a little more conversation, I discovered that every week my friend took her two boys to the library and asked them to pick out one book each. As part of their vacation homework, they would have to write a book report at the end of the week. "Sometimes Mark likes to read, though," she explained. "He loved those Magic Tree House books. Maybe we could find another series."

The next time I came over, I brought an emergency bag of books designed to pique Mark's interests, along with some suggestions for his younger brother Adam, who's currently reading Frog and Toad. My bag contained the following: the four Horrid Henry books by Francesca Simon that I recently reviewed; all six On the Run books by Gordon Korman; Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, James and the Giant Peach, and The Fantastic Mr. Fox by Roald Dahl; The Heroic Adventures of Hercules Amsterdam by Melissa Glenn Haber; Dial-a-Ghost by Eva Ibbotsen; and Mister Monday by Garth Nix. (I suggested that this last book and its sequels should come after the others, as they're much denser reading.)

I also strongly recommended The Lightning Thief by Rick Riordan, although I couldn't find my own copy. It was actually my top pick for Mark.

Further prescriptions from Dr. Coombs? I explained, first to my friend and then to her wide-eyed sons, that when they go to the library they should each check out ten books for the week. Mark winced, so I hastily reassured him that he didn't have to read all ten. "It's so if one of them turns out to be a dud, you have other books to choose from."

I had already told my friend that when a book is boring you to tears, you shouldn't finish it. Whereupon she said that even she had been bored by this week's book, which she was helping her son get through, taking turns.

"Guess how many books I checked out at the library yesterday?" I asked the kids.

"A hundred?" Mark asked.

"Nope. I couldn't carry a hundred. I got 20. At my house I have 2,000." Or is it more?

The two boys looked at each other, suitably impressed.

"We only have 50," Mark informed me.

One thing I hear a lot from well-to-do suburban parents is that they have plenty of books at home. I remember doing a school visit at a private school a few years back and getting a sense of what was going on. After I made a big pitch for going to the library, some of the students' comments made me realize that their wealthy parents didn't ever take them to the library. Instead, they were proud of their supposedly extensive home libraries.

Sorry, but those libraries are just not good enough. They're a wonderful foundation, but the vision I want to instill in parents is that a kid should walk into a public library and feel the incredible power of owning hundreds of books, of having hundreds of choices.

When I was a kid, my mom took us to the library every week. Every week we checked out the maximum number of books we were allowed to get, which I think was in fact ten, and every week we finished those books in the first three or four days. My sister grew up to be an attorney, while I grew up to be a teacher and a writer. Those books weren't the only reason, but they were definitely a factor.

I should mention that I recommend having reading sessions designated by pages or chapters, not by time. That way kids can stop watching the clock and pay more attention to the story. This approach requires a certain amount of supervision and involvement, though. What I like to do is assign my students to read at least five pages. Then the next time I see them, I ask, "What happened in the book?" This question is meant to be gossipy, not teacherish. It's like asking a kid about a movie—they'll often retell the plot in gory detail. A corollary I've noticed is that kids who recount events in a book blithely for three days straight and then get stuck the fourth day have loudly broadcasted that they didn't do the reading. (I've also found out whether they were reading or simply retelling a movie that way, How to Eat Fried Worms being a recent example.)

"When you give Mark a book, tell him you want him to read a chapter a day, but he can read more if he feels like it. Be very casual about this," I told my friend.

While you're getting a kid hooked, you can take turns reading pages, of course. Depending on the child, I may explain to them that I'll get them started, and then they can read on their own.

When I bring books to students, I first find out their interests. If they can't name any books they like, I ask them what movies and TV shows they like, which gives me a pretty good idea. In broad terms, I've found that most kids prefer either sci-fi/fantasy and adventure, contemporary realism (family, school, and sports stories), or nonfiction. Then there are those kids who will read just about anything, given half the chance.

Some parents seem obsessed with having their precocious 6-year-olds read books intended for high schoolers because "my Johnny is reading at a 10th grade level." To which I say, "So?" Because Johnny is not emotionally ready for The Great Gatsby, and oh yeah, he'll probably hate it. Why should Johnny miss out on the great literature written for 6- to 9-year-olds just because he's "gifted"?

Now, my friend who is working on the great summer reading project is highly educated and is very supportive of her sons' academic progress. But she was not herself an avid childhood reader, so she doesn't happen to have a wide knowledge of children's literature. This is where a good children's librarian or the staff at a well-stocked independent bookstore specializing in children's books can be invaluable.

It's early days yet, but I suspect that with the reading list I've given Mark, he may yet be hooked on books. At the very least, reading won't feel so much like torture anymore. In addition, I recommended the Geronimo Stilton books for his little brother. Not because they're the best books of all time, but because they'll launch him into better books and they're just a lot of fun. I also suggested James Marshall's Fox books, which are well written.

Happily, potential readers are all around us. A few years ago, I worked with a tenth grade student who was very bright and articulate. He told me he read articles on the Internet, but he really didn't read books. I explained, "You were meant to be a reader. You're missing out." I brought him some books that didn't completely take, but he started catching on to the possibilities. His next teacher called to tell me that this boy had gone through a couple of assigned books and was now reading Machiavelli's The Prince on his own because he was interested in political theory.

Another time I was teaching a 12-year-old non-reader who informed me that there was no reason to read Harry Potter because he'd already seen the movie. I dialed it down to A Series of Unfortunate Events on the grounds that they were shorter. Pretty soon he'd read all ten of the Lemony Snicketts (then available) and was happily launching into Harry Potter. I remember his mom saying to me one day, mystified, "I don't understand it. I come into the living room, and he's sitting on the couch, reading a book. We go to the doctor's office, and he wants to bring his book."

"That's great!" I said. I waited till I got home to do a victory dance in my own living room.

It seems we are complacent in believing that the many college-educated parents in our society are successfully raising a generation of readers. It certainly isn't for lack of trying. But getting the right book into the hands of the right kid is not as easy as it looks. Of course, when it does happen, the results can be deep and rich and mind-altering.

Because there is simply nothing like a good book.


P.S. Thanks very much to Jen Robinson for mentioning this post on Booklights. More to the point, I recommend you visit Booklights, a site sponsored by PBS for parents, to get more insights into how to raise a reader. The current post is about summer reading, especially letting kids read for pleasure during the summer (as opposed to reading assigned books).

Nonfiction Monday

It's Nonfiction Monday, when we collect blog links celebrating nonfiction children's books. Throughout the day, bloggers will leave comments letting me know about their nonfiction posts, which I will then collect as links for your reference. Let's hear it for the FACTS!

To start things off, here's my own nonfiction post for the day, a review of a biography of L. Frank Baum:

The Road to Oz: Twists, Turns, Bumps, and Triumphs in the Life of L. Frank Baum has a nice Emerald City green cover by the talented Kevin Hawkes, and it's written by the equally talented Kathleen Krull, author of Lives of the Musicians: Good Times, Bad Times (and What the Neighbors Thought), along with Lives of the Artists, Lives of the Writers, and Lives of Extraordinary Women. Another series she's written is Giants of Science, biographies of figures such as Leonardo Da Vinci, Isaac Newton, and Marie Curie. Krull has a clear, reader-friendly style and a knack for telling people's life stories using just the right details. You may have also come across her picture book biographies of Hilary Clinton and Cesar Chavez. Of course, I have a friend whose favorite Krull biography is a picture book called Fartiste, about a Frenchman who farted so musically that he gave concerts. No, really.

Lyman Frank Baum grew up in the 1860s in a wealthy home, on an estate, actually. He daydreamed and read endlessly; he also wrote and printed a monthly family newspaper together with his brother Harry. Frank grew up to be a dabbler—he tried working in the theater, as a traveling salesman, a news editor, a window dresser, and in numerous risky enterprises. One after another his efforts failed, in a seemingly endless combination of poor choices and plain old bad luck.

Meanwhile, Baum married and raised a rowdy houseful of boys. Besides sharing songs and games and jokes and contests, he used to tell stories to his four sons. He published a few books and amassed plenty of rejection slips, till finally, in 1900, he published The Wizard of Oz. Though his money troubles never completely went away, he found a great deal of success and acclaim with the popularity of the Oz series and a musical based on the books.

Kevin Hawkes' illustrations complement the text beautifully. I especially like the title page, which shows the yellow brick road surrounded by fields of red poppies, with the Emerald City gleaming in the distance. (According to Krull, the most famous city in Oz was inspired by Chicago, particularly the 1893 World's Fair, also by an odd little joke about horses and sawdust.) Hawkes's L. Frank Baum is the perfect blend of gentle and playful. The illustrator also brings an unfamiliar historical era to life, making it intriguingly accessible.

I found Krull's biography poignant and inspiring—here is a man who was really bad at providing for his beloved family, but he just kept trying. Eventually, his riskiest work of all paid off with the success of The Wizard of Oz. Krull quotes Baum as saying, "If I am to do any good in the world, my highest ambition will be to make children happy." By today's standards, which often defines people by their incomes and business results, L. Frank Baum was mostly a failure. But who hasn't heard of The Wizard of Oz? Who hasn't seen the movie, even if they haven't read the book? We hear a lot of talk about Narnia and Middle Earth, but I suspect the best-known fantasyland of all is Oz. I very much appreciate Kathleen Krull's lovely biography of the creator of Dorothy, the Tin Woodman, the Cowardly Lion, the Scarecrow, and the Wicked Witch of the West.

Nonfiction Monday Links:

Abby Librarian brings us a review of Beyond: A Solar System Voyage by Michael Benson, a book with wonderful space photos for middle and high school students.

Over at Lori Calabrese Writes! we find some mummies that aren't from Egypt in her review of Bodies from the Ice by James M. Dean for 9- to 12-year-olds.

Jill at The Well-Read Child presents a review of Chee-Lin: A Giraffe's Journey, a picture book by James Rumford. Did you know the Chinese brought a giraffe back home from Africa before Columbus even set sail to the Americas?

From Bookends, it's a review of The Anne Frank Case: Simon Wiesenthal's Search for the Truth by Susan Goldman Rubin. This long picture book for older elementary students shows Wiesenthal's research quest in response to Holocaust deniers.

In Need of Chocolate reviews Dolphin Talk, a title from my favorite science series for first and second graders, Let's Read and Find Out.

From Shirley at Simply Science, read a review of How Weird Is It? by Ben Hillman, a collection of odd science information for 9- to 12-year-olds. Love the cover!

Wild About Nature reviews two of Marianne Berkes' books, both patterned after the classic rhyme "Over in the Meadow": check out Over in the Arctic Where the Cold Winds Blow and Over in the Jungle: A Rainforest Rhyme. As a bonus, we get an interview with author Marianne Berkes.

Roberta of Wrapped in Foil gives us a review of Secrets of a Civil War Submarine: Solving the Mystery of the H.L. Hanley by Sally M. Walker. This YA title should bring home why being asked to crew a prototype for a submarine was a worrisome proposition.

The Book Chook offers up a review of a picture book in rhyme called By Jingo! An Alphabet of Animals by Aussie author Janeen Brian.

Wendie Old tantalizes us with her invitation to a panel discussion featuring 18 nonfiction writers at the upcoming ALA Convention in Chicago. Visit her site, Wendie's Wanderings, to learn more about the presenters and their workshop, titled "Nonfiction Blog Blast: Booktalks for Reluctant Readers."

Thanks to everyone who participated in this week's Nonfiction Monday!

Horrid Henry Stomps Across the U.S.

A few months ago, I read an article which said that the Horrid Henry series didn't initially sell in the United States because the title character was considered such a negative role model. This reminded me of a trend I've been thinking about, the rise of the anti-hero in American culture.

Of course, any controversy about bringing Francesca Simon's series to the U.S. died when publishers looked at the kazillion dollars the series has earned in the UK, winning awards and spawning a Broadway show as well as an animated TV series. It's not a stretch to compare the success of the series in Great Britain to the popularity of the Captain Underpants books and, more recently, Jeff Kinney's Diary of a Wimpy Kid and sequels in the United States. So be warned: as of this spring, Horrid Henry has crossed the ocean. It's kind of a homecoming in the sense that the author is actually an American. Today's review is part of a blog tour celebrating the series launch.

If you go far enough back in history, will you find beloved anti-heroes? Well, yes—they're called tricksters, and every culture seems to have them. Some of the most well-known tricksters include the African spider Anansi, the Native American figures Raven and Coyote, Brer Rabbit from the Southern black tradition, Puck and Jack in British stories, Reynart the Fox in French folktales, Hermes and Odysseus from the Greek myths, and the Norse god Loki.

Keep in mind that not all anti-heroes are tricksters. Tricksters tend to be clownish, while anti-heroes may simply be shadowy versions of heroes, e.g., Batman in place of Superman. (Or we have Edward Cullen, the perfect sweet boy next door except for that darn blood lust thing, which coincidentally gives him bad boy appeal.) As Wikipedia points out, a more current example of a trickster in our culture is Bugs Bunny. I would add Bart Simpson to the list. In fact, it's amusing to think that the country that spawned Bart wouldn't immediately welcome Horrid Henry with open arms.

Historically, trickster characters have stood in for our dark sides; they have also represented those brilliant fringe elements of society who often bring about change while making everybody nervous. A number of legends around the world involve characters such as Raven and Coyote stealing fire from the gods, or Anansi stealing stories from the gods—then passing these gifts on to humans. While Prometheus is a tamer figure from Greek mythology, the fact remains that tricksters are essentially risk-takers, and once in a while their risks pay off.

Still, it has become almost overwhelming how many anti-heroes have flooded TV, literature, and film. I read a very funny article about it last year that said anti-heroes are so prevalent it's become an eye roll-inspiring cliché. Which leads me to wonder whether the idea that "being good is boring" has completely infiltrated our society. A handful of tricksters keeps things fresh; an entire nation of tricksters sounds unpleasant.

But let's think about tricksters in children's literature, a fairly modern genre. Max, the hero of the classic picture book Where the Wild Things Are, is a small trickster in a wolf suit, able to subdue an island full of monsters who are perfectly willing to eat him up. Some of Roald Dahl's best characters are tricksters—Charlie Bucket may be a sweetie, but look at the fantastic Mr. Fox and even Matilda, who uses her powers to defeat a villain rather deviously. The Cat in the Hat is such a trickster he makes some readers anxious, and Sam I Am has a similar huckster persona. Of course, the greatest con man in literature is probably Tom Sawyer, he of the infamous fence painting scheme. (See also the title character of John Fitzgerald's The Great Brain, speaking of which.)

Horrid Henry is not simply badly behaved; he is also clever, though not invincible. Note that in legends from around the world, the trickster character is sometimes fooled by someone who turns the tables on him. This is also the case with Henry.

Why do children like reading about such a rotten kid? Because he makes them look good. Besides, he can do things they know they would never get away with—as readers all know, we find vicarious joy in accompanying characters on escapades we would never dream of trying in real life.

More than anything, Horrid Henry reminds me of Calvin of Calvin and Hobbes fame. I remember reading an interview in which Bill Waterson was asked if he would like to have a child like Calvin. His answer was something along the lines of "You've got to be kidding!" So just picture Calvin with a British accent and an annoyingly well-behaved younger brother named Peter. Then you'll be prepared to meet Horrid Henry.

I have to say, as I read the first four books, I was thrown off a little because all of the child characters have names with obvious adjectives in front. Traditionally, such sobriquets have been a characteristic of heavily didactic stories. Then I realized that the names were basically assigned to reflect Henry's point of view. None of the other characters use those names when speaking. Henry's brother, Perfect Peter, and kids like Moody Margaret, Cross Colin, Pimply Paul, and Prissy Polly, are all defined by Henry, the star of the show.

Once I got past the name issue, I was completely sucked in by the author's mastery of the way kids talk and act. It's the same thing that makes the Diary of a Wimpy Kid books spot-on. Here's an example from the first book in the series, Horrid Henry:

Margaret had eye patches and skulls and crossbones and plumed hats and cutlasses and sabers and snickersnees.

Henry had a stick.

That was why Henry played with Margaret....

"I won't play if I can't be Hook," said Horrid Henry.

Margaret thought for a moment. "We can both be Captain Hook," she said.

"But we only have one hook," said Henry.

Which I haven't played with yet," said Peter.

"BE QUIET, prisoner!" shouted Margaret. "Mr. Smee, take him to jail."

"No," said Henry.

"You will get your reward, Mr. Smee," said Margaret, waving her hook.

Mr. Smee dragged the prisoner to jail.

"If you're very quiet, prisoner, then you will be freed and you can be a pirate, too," said Captain Hook.

"Now give me the hook," said Mr. Smee.

The Captain reluctantly handed it over.

"Now I'm Captain Hook and you're Mr. Smee," Henry shouted. "I order everyone to walk the plank!"

"I'm sick of playing pirates," said Margaret. "Let's play something else."

Simon not only has a great sense of how to pace a scene, but she has a way of using Henry's constant machinations with satisfying irony. For example, when Henry's parents agree to have Moody Margaret stay at their house while her parents are out of town, Henry makes a big stink and his parents reprimand him, telling him to be polite. But it soon becomes clear to the entire family that Margaret is a terrible guest. When Henry pulls one of his tricks to get Margaret to leave, his parents are secretly relieved. Henry is unaware of their feelings—he's just trying to get rid of the girl. For their part, readers will laugh at this second layer of storytelling.

Each of the books contains four episodes, written at about a second grade level in fairly large type. But in terms of the humor, I suspect Horrid Henry will have just as much if not more appeal to third graders. The age range listed for the series is 7-10.

In Book One, our little anti-hero stomps through his dance class while everyone else is twirling delightfully. In fact, Horrid Henry stomps through most of these stories, managing to destroy a camping trip, a wedding, and dinner out at a restaurant, among other events. He plays a diabolical trick on his brother using a time machine (another homage to Waterson?), but Perfect Peter gets him back by concocting public evidence that Henry has a crush on Margaret. (One of Peter's few successes against his big brother.) In Book Two, I especially enjoyed Henry's frantic efforts to trick the "Tooth Fairy," who at one point leaves him a note reading: "Nice try Henry." The title story from Horrid Henry's Stinkbomb is another standout, focusing on how Henry's boys' club plots against Margaret's girls' club and vice versa. To add to the humor, each ringleader is assisted by a traitor as Simon plays with ideas such as the speed at which children quarrel and make up.

Tony Ross's illustrations put the finishing touch on this series. There's a little Quentin Blake in the artwork, evoking Roald Dahl's books. Mostly, though, Henry and friends are Ross's own small masterpieces of childhood crankiness and prankiness.

I haven't seen any of the TV episodes, but Francesca Simon's Henry stories remind me of a really good sitcom, say Malcolm in the Middle. Her series is not only well written, funny, clever, and subversive, it is also the perfect fit for a generation of kids raised on TV, DVD, and Internet storytelling.

Note for Worried Parents: In case it's not completely clear from the post, Henry is not a good role model! However, his devious efforts often backfire.

Picture Books to Sing

Two of the books I managed to rescue from my parents when they moved and were clearing out their library are actually songs: The Fox Went Out on a Chilly Night, an old song illustrated by Peter Spier, and One Wide River to Cross, adapted by Barbara Emberley and illustrated by Ed Emberley. Coincidentally enough, they are both Caldecott Honor books—Spier's in 1962 and Emberley's in 1967. I don't think my mother bothered tracking the award winners particularly, but she always had good taste in children's books.

Ed Emberley has had a long and successful career in children's book illustration, though his name may not be as familiar to you as some others. I was surprised to realize that he had won that Caldecott Honor long ago for his wood-cut illustrations of the Noah story in song, since I know him best as the author/illustrator of Go Away Big, Green Monster! It turns out Emberley is the author of a number of books about drawing for children. What's more, he won the Caldecott Medal in 1968 for Drummer Hoff, which his wife Barbara adapted, as well.

We sang a lot in my family as I was growing up. I was the second of seven children. My mother and two of my sisters played the piano, so we would gather around the piano and sing music from Broadway musicals like Fiddler on the Roof and You're a Good Man, Charlie Brown. Another favorite was The Fireside Book of Folksongs—we especially loved a rowdy tune called "Drill, Ye Terriers, Drill" and spirituals like "Nobody Knows the Trouble I've Seen" and "Oh Won't You Sit Down?" We sang on car trips, too, throwing in camp songs and songs we had learned in church. To this day, I like vocal music better than instrumental music. A few years ago, I went out of my way to track down a copy of The Fireside Book of Folksongs. It was only then that I noticed the collection's illustrators were Caldecott winners Alice and Martin Provenson.

Naturally, when I began teaching elementary school, my students and I sang together—what we lacked in grace, we made up for with enthusiasm. I soon learned that the big name in CDs for kindergarten and first grade is Greg and Steve, but I was still hooked on folksongs. A friend of mine worked in the office of the Smithsonian that preserves folk music, and she gave me a CD of children's songs called Smithsonian Folkways Children's Music Collection, basically her department's "Greatest Hits" from the archives. Woody Guthrie, Ella Jenkins, Pete Seeger, Lead Belly, and Langston Hughes are the best known of the featured artists. Okay, so Langston Hughes doesn't sing, but he does read a couple of his poems. (The Smithsonian has quite a music catalog; look it up!)

The year I taught third grade, my students' favorite CD was Red Grammer's Sing Along Songs, especially "Erie Canal" (we acted out the bridge lowering), "Day-O," and "Wimoweh." In fact, the next year they used to stop by after school and ask to play that CD and sing to it again. They leaped about the room while they were at it.

This spring I ordered a bunch of books and supplemental materials for the Resource Room of my current school. Our school works with students who are homebound for medical reasons, and a number of them are severely handicapped. Because the children can't do much, their teachers put on quite a show, using music and read-alouds more than most teachers do. I ordered a number of board books for this group that came with CDs or could be sung aloud by the teacher. What I discovered is that the authors and illustrators who dominate that particular slice of children's literature right now are Mary Ann Hoberman, who collaborated with Nadine Bernard Westcott on books such as The Eensy-Weensy Spider and Mary Had a Little Lamb; Westcott on her own, perhaps most happily on Peanut Butter and Jelly: A Play Rhyme; performer Raffi, with books like Down by the Bay, also illustrated by Nadine Bernard Westcott, and The Wheels on the Bus; as well as Izi Trapani, whose numerous titles include I'm a Little Teapot and Row, Row, Row Your Boat.

Yet there is something of a distinction between these books and the picture books for slightly older students that feature singable texts. The picture books may be based on less well-known songs, or at least songs less often sung by the pre-school set. One such book in my collection is another Woodie Guthrie number, Bling Blang. You can get the music on another Smithsonian Folkways collection, Guthrie's Songs to Grow on for Mother and Child. Bling Blang is illustrated by Vladimir Radunsky, who created a black child and a white child to star in the book; he went on to include actual art from children, who, as you know, love to draw houses. Bling Blang is about building a great house for a beloved child. The marvelous onomatopoeic chorus goes: "Bling blang, hammer with my hammer/Zing-o zang-o, cutting with my saw." Apparently Woodie Guthrie and his kids used to build odd projects in their backyard.

Bling Blang stands alone, but some songs have repeatedly been made into children's books. I'm guessing that if you counted them up, "The Wheels on the Bus," "The Eensy-Weensy Spider," and "There Was an Old Lady Who Swallowed a Fly" would win for most frequent publication, but the latter undoubtedly takes first prize if you include the many variations. A quick look on Amazon has the old lady swallowing a shell, a pie, a trout, a bat, a bell, the sea, a chick, and Fly Guy (an easy reader character). Plus we find regional fare like There Was a Coyote Who Swallowed a Flea and There Was an Old Texan Who Swallowed a Fly, not to mention a hungry educator, I Know an Old Teacher.

Yet none of these can dent my loyalty to the Simms Taback version, which won a Caldecott Honor in 1998. The illustrations are nuts, the die-cut holes are genius, and then you get the bonus of the secondary characters making odd little rhyming comments around the page edges at key points. My first graders requested that one on a regular basis; in fact, since they were learning English as a Second Language, I started out by singing and then having them fill in the missing words of the cumulative story. I know some parents find the plot a little upsetting, especially the kicker of an ending, but kids have the humor and good sense to know that it's all a big joke. (For a different read-aloud on the topic of cumulative swallowing, you can't beat My Little Sister Ate One Hare by Bill Grossman and Kevin Hawkes, which doubles as a counting book.)

There have been just a few versions of another sing-along book I recommend, Fiddle-I-Fee by Will Hillenbrand; the best-known is probably Paul Galdone's Cat Goes Fiddle-I-Fee, and Diane Stanley illustrated one, as well. I personally like Hillenbrand's narrative approach and cheerily unsentimental artwork, along with his rendering of the animal sounds, which are the best part about this song and guaranteed child-pleasers.

A more openly sentimental picture book version of a song is Morning Has Broken by Eleanor Farjeon, illustrated by Tim Ladwig. You've probably heard the song performed by Cat Stevens, but perhaps you didn't know that the words were a poem by a wonderful children's book writer. (In the days before fairy tale retellings became popular, Farjeon wrote The Little Glass Slipper and The Silver Curlew, novelizations of "Cinderella" and "Rumpelstiltskin" that are more readable and funny than most of the retellings in the current crop.) Ladwig's illustrations are gentle and a little too sweet for my taste, but the words are wonderful, especially if you are on the religious side. Like many of the books listed here, this book provides the "sheet music" for the song.

One picture book I highly recommend has a rap-style chant rather than a melody, and that's Shake Dem Halloween Bones by W. Nikola-Lisa and Mike Reed. The author and illustrator create a collection of fairy tale characters coming together to dance on Halloween Night, and it's another title that my students used to want to hear—and chant with me—over and over. The very strong beat will carry you along!

Which brings me to the two recently published picture book songs that started me thinking about all this: All God's Critters by Bill Staines and Kadir Nelson and Tweedle Dee Dee by Charlotte Voakes. I'll confess I didn't find Tweedle Dee Dee particularly compelling. Voakes's illustration style, which I thought was perfect for Elsie Piddock Skips in Her Sleep (another Eleanor Farjeon offering!), is extra loose here, and the song lacks a strong storyline. The illustrator hits her stride with the birds' nest, though, and the rest of the book is more appealing.

Some songs give artists more to play with, and that's certainly the case with All God's Critters, with its message of inclusion and contribution. Even though the "story" is simply a performance by a series of animals, Kadir Nelson gets to spotlight each animal, imbuing them with colorful personalities. If you've seen his work in books about African American history and culture (e.g, Henry's Freedom Box by Ellen Levine and We Are the Ship by Nelson himself), you may be surprised by his rambunctious departure here. It just goes to show that a talented illustrator has range! In this case, he also has fun. The double-spread grand finale is especially over-the-top as our animal cast hams it up, turning the volume full blast.

Now, I was unfamiliar with both of these melodies, so I played them on my recorder to get a feel for them. "Tweedle Dee Dee" is nice, but not very memorable. "All God's Critters" is a little more catchy, but still nothing like "Eerie Canal" or "The Fox Went Out on a Chilly Night."

The question raised by all of the books in this post is whether they are still as effective if they are simply read rather than sung. I'm guessing the rhythm and a reader's use of expression will make most of them solid read-alouds even if they aren't used as sing-alouds, but I can't emphasize enough how much kids LIKE singing and being sung to.

So, while I sort of understand teachers who can't carry a tune and just treat these texts as poems, I am appalled by teachers who play a CD and have their students sing without singing themselves. Of course, a lot of teachers are perfectly happy to belt out songs with their students as long as there aren't any other adults in the room, and the same thing is true for many parents at bedtime. So what do you do if you can't read music? Then it helps to have a CD in order to learn the tune, but I suggest you resist the urge to listen silently to words and melodies that are just begging to be sung! My family may sound musically talented to you, but none of us were outstanding vocalists. More than anything, we sang for the sheer joy of it. That experience was a gift from my parents that I still treasure. There's a reason I keep those ratty old copies of The Fox Went Out on a Chilly Night and One Wide River to Cross. Just the sight of them gets me singing my way around the house.

My First Giveaway, Featuring the One and Only...

I'm getting the same feeling I got last summer, a kind of melancholy I can only associate with the lack of a new Harry Potter book coming out. The movie helps, but it's just not the same as a big, fat book full of Hogwarts adventures along with the direness of Lord Voldemort's quest to defeat Harry and, incidentally, to conquer the world.

So when I got the chance to do a giveaway in honor of the newest (and last) Potter paperback, Book 7, which is auspiciously due out on 7/7, I was totally there. Although you, fellow Hogwarts devotees, are the beneficiaries, with the possibility of winning one of five prize packs, each consisting of three paperbacks:

• Book 5, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix


• Book 6, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince


• Book 7, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

The folks who are providing the books wish me to include this Harry Potter website link, plus the following info:

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows is a breathtaking finish to a remarkable series. The final chapter to Harry Potter's adventures will be released in paperback July 7th! It all comes down to this--a final face-off between good and evil. you plan to pull out all the stops, but every time you solve one mystery, three more evolve.

My thoughts about Book 7 are a little darker and deeper. When I bought the book, I wondered whether J.K. Rowling could possibly end the series in a way that could satisfy me. For one thing, I didn't want the series to end, implying built-in dissatisfaction. I was amused by the middle of the book, which dragged. But the dragginess had a purpose--Harry and his outgunned friends were muddling around in the countryside, unsure how to defeat the undefeatable, or even to save their own lives. It was a gloomy, drizzly book, but that kind of makes sense, when you're talking about such fear and sadness.

I'll confess that I wasn't fond of the long exposition from a beloved and departed mentor near the end of the book. But that's just a quibble; when I closed Deathly Hallows, I really felt like the author had pulled it off. I gave one of those happy, happy sighs you give just before turning back to reread favorite scenes. (Or in my case, to reread the last three chapters, as I tend to speed up toward the end of a book and need a second, calmer read to recover anything I've missed in my hurry.) I decided that the final battle could easily have been botched, but instead it was just right, up to and including the losses, as well as the strange roles played by some of Harry's supposed enemies. J.K. Rowling is a lot more subtle than you might think!

Now, if you'd like to participate in the giveaway, which will run for three weeks and close July 4th with a nice blast of fireworks reminiscent of a powerful burst of magic, just write about Harry Potter in the comment section of this post. Tell us about a favorite character, secondary character, monster, teacher, or villain. Write about a favorite scene. Write about your favorite clever details or your favorite plot twist. Or you can write about staying up till midnight at a bookstore party when one of the books came out. As my English teachers used to say (every single one of them), be specific. Anything from 2-3 sentences to a longer paragraph is fine. Just show off your love of Harry!

One of my own memories of Harry Potter was the night I bought a book at midnight (I think it was Book 6) and came home feeling really tired. I said to myself, I'll just read a chapter or two. Yeah, right. At ten o'clock the next morning, I stopped to take a nap. Then I finished the book in time to go to a birthday party at the home of my student's aunt. My student was twelve and too cool; he was way less thrilled to see me than his mother was. Fair enough, since she had invited me. The party was Belizean, so I got to eat plaintains and try to figure out what everybody was saying as I watched the little kids bounce up and down in one of those jumpy houses in the backyard. My student and his cousin and I did have a conversation about the new Harry Potter book, though, and both of them were amazed that I had already finished--they forgot to be cool for a full ten seconds, they were so impressed!

The thing is, this student of mine was slowly dying of cancer. (I teach sick children.) A few months later, he wasn't up for algebra anymore. All I did when I went over to his house to work with him was read Harry Potter--I think it was Book Three. He really liked the way I read, doing different voices and everything. The day before he died, I was reading him Harry Potter.

I guess that might also explain my melancholy.

Anyway, I hope your thoughts and memories are far more upbeat than mine. Please share, and I'll be happy to pick a handful of the comments to win the prize packs. What I'll do is select 1-2 that I think are especially great and then do the rest simply as a drawing, giving us the best of both worlds.

P.S. Apparently several other bloggers in Kidlitosphere are also doing this giveaway. Visit each of these sites for more chances to win! They are Abby Librarian, Charlotte's Library, The Well-Read Child, Brimful Curiosities, The Spiral Notebook, Wizards Wireless, Write for a Reader, and readergirlz.