MASTERPIECE is now in PAPERBACK!!!

This is such a fabulous book, and a great read-out-loud for the 5 and under crowd who are ready for a more complex story that is still gentle and only a little suspenseful...

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In the great tradition of EL Konigsburg's masterpiece of children's literature, From the Mixed-up Files of Mrs Basil E Frankweiler, with a little Cricket in Times Square thrown in, comes Elise Broach's fantastic new mystery, Masterpiece, with superb illustrations by the wonderful Kelly Murphy, doing double duty as the illustrator of the text and the artist behind the creations of Marvin, the beetle with a true artistic gift.

Masterpiece involves drawings by the great German artist Albrecht Durer, art theft, forgery, the FBI and beetles, not necessarily in that order. Marvin is a beetle living the good life in the walls of the Pompaday aprtment in New York City. He has loving and attentive parents, a large extended family and William Pompaday, an unruly baby who drops plentiful (for beetles) amounts of food on the floor of the kitchen. When we first meet Marvin, he is being awakened from a deep slumber to come to the aid of his family and Mrs Pompaday, who has dropped a contact lens down the drain of the bathroom sink. Like the Borrowers and The Littles, the beetles repay the food and objects they take from the humans by performing helpful tasks around the apartment, such as repairing small appliances and helping locate lost items. This is an act of self-preservation as well, as it keeps electricians, plumbers and the likes from poking about and possibly uncovering the beetles' homes, ensuring the next visitor to the apartment would be the exterminator. Marvin takes his peanut-shell-floatie and gamely hops down the drain and retrieves the contact lens, which is deposited in a not too obvious spot after being excavated from the drain pipe.

Marvin is a cautious, thoughtful and observant beetle who, despite the insistence of his parents otherwise, believes that humans can be friends with bugs based on the time he has spent watching James, Mrs Pompaday's son from a previous marriage to the abstract painter, Karl Terik. Mrs Pompaday takes her career as a relator a little too seriously and is always mixing business with pleasure. James' eleventh birthday party, brilliantly described as a "boisterous disaster" by Broach, takes place shortly after the contact lens incident and is attended by the children of Mrs Pompaday's clients, or people she would like to be clients and none of James' friends, if he in fact has any. The disappointing afternoon is topped off with a visit from James' father and the gift of a pen and ink set that his mother feels will result in a horrible mess for sure. Dispiritedly, James makes a few experimental scribbles and writes his name with the pen then goes to bed, leaving the bottle of ink open. When Marvin goes to James' room that night to deliver his birthday present, he sees the ink and is overcome by the desire to try drawing with it. He dips his arms into the ink and produces a remarkable miniature sketch of the scene outside James' window. And this is where the story really takes off!

James discovers Marvin and his picture in the morning and is delighted. But, he is even more taken with Marvin himself. Amid the excitement of his parents over what is perceived to be James' drawing and his newly uncovered artistic potential, James and Marvin forge a friendship and a form of communication (Marvin cannot talk, to James anyway) that allows them to get along pretty well, despite several life threatening situations for Marvin and many nights passed without his parents knowing where he is, if he is alive or dead. In one of many climactic scenes in Masterpiece, Marvin is faced with the choice of letting his friend down or disobeying his mother, who is standing right next to him. Like Lynne Jonell's enthralling Emmy and the Incredible Shrinking Rat, Broach goes back and forth between the insect/rodent world and the human world, bringing up important issues to be resolved in each, and making important points about choices, actions and decisions in each as well. Broach sprinkles her story with important observations about the nature of life, beauty and art throughout. The imaginary Virtue drawings by Durer are representations of Fortitude, Justice, Temperance and Prudence, and being an important part of the story, they get discussed somewhat philosophically throughout Masterpiece, with Plutarch and Nietzsche's names even being bandied about. But one of my favorite lines in Masterpiece is spoken by Marvin's mother who, when asked by Marvin why beetles don't get divorced after he has been pondering feelings that James shared with him about his parent's divorce answers, "Well, our lives are so short, darling. What would be the point? We have so little time, we must spend it as happily as possible...And we expect a lot less than people do. If we get through a day without being stepped on, with a little food to fill our bellies, a safe place to bed down for a few hours, and ou family and friends close by - well, that's a good day, isn't it?" Simple as it is, I feel like I would do well to adopt a more beetle-ish outlook on my own life...

As I said, there is a mystery in this book that involes James posing as the artist of a forged Durer to be used as bait for an art thief. Beyond that, I can't say much more without giving away too many surprises. And there are surprises. I gasped out loud at one point and couldn't stop reading until I finished the book after that point. Broach does a masterful job of weaving many fascinating elements into her superb story.

Don't miss these other fantastic books by Elise Broach!

 one of the best picture books of 2008, and all time, really...

 When Dinosaurs Came with Everything

a fantastic and rare mystery for middle schools, and one that involves Shakespeare!

Shakespeare's Secret 

And don't miss the Superstition Mountain Trilogy, of which the first two books have been published:

Anne Ursu's Cronus Chronicles series, the first book of which is The Shadow Thieves, manages to be playful and menacing at the same time, a bit like Eric Fortune's cover illustration which I loved so much I had to share in its text-free form. Published early in 2006, less than a year after The Lightning Thief hit the shelves, The Shadow Thieves is a different animal all together. And really, why even compare the books? The Greek gods and goddesses are a bit like vampires when it comes to literary representation these days - there are as many different ways to make them modern or keep them classical as there are fish in the ocean. I do feel compelled to point out this one major difference between the two books, though. Where as The Lightning Thief is a fast paced, action packed book right out of the gate - I felt like I was watching a movie as I read it - The Shadow Thieves takes it's thoughtful, descriptive, character building time, waiting 100 pages before even mentioning the Underworld. Of course, this ultimately a matter of writing style, but it interests me that the main character of Riordan's book is a boy, where as the main character of Ursu's book is a girl.

Ursu employs first person narrator to guide the reader, sometimes in a very sardonic voice, through the story like Ariadne and her ball of thread in the Minotaur's maze. When we first meet the main character Charlotte Mielswetzski ("Say it with me: Meals-wet-ski. Got it? If not, say it again: Meals. Wet. Ski. There. You thought your name was bad?" the narrator chides the reader) she is on her way home from a not-too-great day at school. Charlotte is cranky, grumpy, even, and definitely unhappy. Her best friend has moved to Russia with her parents to teach English to orphans. Encouraged by her mom, she tried out for the school play and didn't get cast. Her only joy comes from making up stories to explain the absence of homework in some of her classes. Charlotte yearns for something out of the ordinary, magical, even, to happen to her. Somehow, though, the ordinary keeps piling up. Charlotte finds a kitten, which she names Bartholomew, Mew for short, (too cute) but this doesn't really shake up her life in any significant way. Charlotte learns that her cousin, Zachary, is coming to live with her family from his home in England. Still no big deal. Even worse really, since Zachary, or Zee as he likes to be known, is friendly, out going, good looking and sporty, all the things Charlotte feels she is not. However, things start to change quickly when Charlotte's friend becomes mysteriously, deathly ill. Soon the rest of the kids at her school are toppling like dominoes.

Zee knows why and he tries to tell Charlotte, but ultimately decides to prove it to her, which almost results in a trip to the Underworld. Instead, they are rescued by Mr Metos, their creepy English teacher who fills in some of the gaps in their story. Mr Metos is part of the Promethian Society, a group dedicated to protecting humans from the follies of the gods. Mr Metos explains that Philonecron, grandson of Poseidon, is trying to take control of the Underworld from Hades, who has become so jaded over the years that he turned the Underworld into a corporation full of mid-level managers and bureaucratic busy bodies. Phil has some plans for Hades, the Underworld and the Shades who inhabit it. Through his mastery of sorcery and Zee's blood, Phil has managed to create an army out of Shades from the shadows of living children, rendering them virtually comatose. When they are tricked into believing Mr Metos wants them to head down to the Underworld, the story takes off and Charlotte and Zee are forced to rely on their wits and instincts (and, fortunately, knowledge of Greek mythology and the ways of the Underworld) alone. Ursu does a great job re-imagining the Greek gods and goddesses and creating her own vision of the Underworld and all the creepies that reside in it. She even provides a bestiary at the end of the book to sort them all out...

One thing I loved about this book was the role of, mere existence of PARENTS. Unlike most fantasy novels in which the kids disappear for an indeterminate amount of time and no one seems to notice, Charlotte and Zee's parents notice. Not only are they typical, they are modern. Zee has a few visits with the psychiatrist when things go wrong in England and all his friends are falling ill. Charlotte's mother is "a child psychiatrist who wrote books on adolescence and was very concerned with Charlotte's well being, This was not always as advantageous as it sounds." Another interesting aspect of the books, as noted by another Charlotte, this one of the blog Charlotte's Library, is the fact that Charlotte and Zee are not, "Chosen Ones, with a Great Destiny and Magical Gifts etc." This is so true and so worth taking note of. The fantasy genre will always have characters who labor under the assumption of normalcy only to wake one day and learn that they are special, and young adult fantasy even more so. What kid doesn't dream of this, or at least dream that they are maybe adopted and there real parents are out there somewhere, maybe even royalty... But, I think it is much more challenging and ultimately interesting to write characters who are normal and survive by their brains and courage alone. Well done, Anne Urusu!

Book Two, The Siren Song, finds Poseidon out for revenge after Charlotte and Zee's actions lead to another, harsher banishment for Philonecron. They are tricked into taking a cruise through the Mediterranean on board Poseidon's own cruise line. Book Three, The Immortal Fire, finds the two on Mount Olympus facing off with Zeus in an effort to stop Phil once and for all.

Of course I noticed Annie Barrows's book The Magic Half the minute the paperback hit the shelves almost a year ago. The cover art is by one of my favorites, Alexandra Boiger, who illustrated two books that made it to my Best Picture Books of 2008, The Little Bit Scary People by Emily Jenkins and While Mama Had a Quick Little Chat by Amy Reichert. Boiger has also recently updated the cover art for Betty MacDonald's superb Mrs Piggle-Wiggle series, taking over for the briliant and influential children's book illustrator Hilary Knight. On top of the great cover, Barrows name caught my attention as well. Not only is she the author of the super new chapter book series for emerging readers, Ivy + Bean, but, along with her aunt, Mary Ann Shaffer, she is the co-author of the bestselling book group favorite for adults, The Guernsey Literary and Potato Pie Society!

And, yes, all that great background experience does lead up to a really great book! Like Jeanne Birdsall's wonderful series The Penderwicks (no news yet on when book 3 in the series will be published, but she plans to write 5 in all), The Magic Half shares a sense of timelessness (even though there are brief references here and there to Xboxes, iPods and cell phones) and attention to the importance of family. And, these books also share the common theme of big families. Four sisters make up the Penderwick family. The main character of The Magic Half, Miri (short for Miriam) is the middle child between two sets of twins. As Miri's father notes, "only one in fifty thousand families had two pairs of twins," thus making their family unique. For eleven year old Miri, this mostly means being the odd person out. Older brothers Robbie and Ray are inseparable, as are four year old twins, Nora and Nell. When the family moves to a new (old) house out in the country, Miri gets her own room for the first time, but still has trouble settling in.

The action in the story begins when Robbie and Ray run home with the news that there might be stolen loot buried on their property. Miri, who is getting a break from baby-sitting Nora and Nell, wants to help but the boys won't let her. Wandering around the large piece of land the house is set on leads her to the remains of the old barn and the likely spot for hidden treasure. When the boys spot her trying to sneak off with a shovel, a chase ensues, Miri is tackled, breaking her glasses, and she ends up whacking Ray in the head with the shovel. This lands Miri back in her room awaiting further punishment. Squinting without her glasses, Miri notices a flash of light near the floor from across the room. When she investigates, she finds a piece of glass - the lens from a pair of eyeglasses - taped to the baseboard. She gently removes it and holds it up to her eye for a better look and finds herself in the same place but transported to a different time. I find myself wanting to add exclamation points at the end of every sentence I write about this book. Barrows writing is so descriptively vivid, so immediate and straightforward, that the twists and turns, and magic, when it arrives, are always a surprise.

Miri finds herself face to face with Molly in the year 1935. Glasses, broken or otherwise, play a key role in this story, which quickly turns into a fast paced adventure and a race against the clock. Thoughtful and open to the possibilities of the imagination, Miri is only a little bit surprised by her time travel. Lonely and feeling left out, she immediately sees the same in Molly and her less than ideal family life and knows that, if she does nothing else, she must return to her own time with Molly in tow. This seems easy enough, but Miri first has to figure out how the magic and time travel work and how she can maneuver around Molly's menacing cousin Horst and manipulative Aunt Flo. And then there is Molly's Grandma May. I tore through this book because the story was so engrossing but also because Horst was such an unpredictable, wicked character that I was really worried for Molly's safety and had to know how the plot worked out. Barrows's writing style also lends itself to a speedy read. The book itself is a smaller format and the chapters are often less than ten pages. Which is both good and bad. Being such a great story, I would have loved to spend more time with Molly in 1935 and maybe even learn more about the mysterious Grandma May. Barrows's descriptions of the house are wonderful and Flo, Horst and his sister, Sissy are easily imagined and well drawn. Time with Miri and her siblings in the present is also enjoyable. The way her mother manages five children while unpacking a house and preparing to for a new semester teaching college while their father is out of town at a conference was entertaining from an adult's perspective, especially.

Short or long, I hope to read more of the same from Annie Burrows in the future!

Readers who enjoyed this book (and have already read The Penderwicks) might also like:

Half Magic by Edward Eager. All his books are excellent and this is a great place to start.

Five Children and It by E. Nesbit. Writing at the turn of the last century, Nesbit's fantasy stories have been greatly influential in the world of children's literature, inspiring Edward Eager and CS Lewis, among many others. Many of Nesbit's books have been made (and re-made) into movies by the BBC. One of my favorite is The Railway Children (read my review here). Reality based, this book is comparable to A Little Princess and The Secret Garden by Frances Hodeson Burnett and a wonderful story about children and adults overcoming hardship with the help of friends. Interestingly, this book has been made into a movie five times in between 1968 and 2000. The British actress Jenny Agutter played the daughter in the 1968 production and the mother in the 2000 one.

Strawberry Hill, by current Children's Poet Laureate Mary Ann Hoberman is an excellent slice of life in America during the Great Depression. While it is semi-autobiographical and thus reality based, Hoberman's writing is so precise and rich that it feels magical.

And, last but not least, The Secret of the Ruby Ring by Yvonne Mac Gory, pictures by Terry Myler, is one of the best time-travel, historical fiction books for young readers I have enjoyed. Sadly, it is out of print but used copies abound. Lucy is a rather spoiled eleven year old who gets a very special ring as a birthday gift from her Grandmother. When she puts it on and twists it she finds herself in 1885 Ireland during a time of unrest, evictions and boycotting, working as a maid in Langley Castle. When she loses the ring and is unsure she will ever see her family again, she begins to take charge of her situation and appreciate her life.

Ok, I am just going to do this now and get it out of the way: YES - there are passing similarities between Tom Angleberger's amazing new book, The Strange Case of Origami Yoda and Jeff Kinney's Diary of a Wimpy Kid that go well beyond their shared publisher, the excellent Amulet Books. Both are set in middle school, both are first person narratives, both contain kids who exist on the fringes (and far, outer fringes) of popularity and both contain a healthy dose of illustrations done by the young characters in the books. However, the whole story arc of The Strange Case of Origami Yoda involves introspection, observation, self-examination and, in more than one instance, forgiveness and the story wraps up in one book that has a very satisfying ending. I guarantee you that, even if Angleberger can't wrangle a few more books out of his well formed characters, The Strange Case of the Origami Yoda will find itself hugely popular among young readers and have a very long shelf life. And, I am sure that, for years to come, thanks to the instructions in the back of the book and on the website, teachers will be confiscating origami Yodas from their students.

The unifying force (no pun intended, Star Wars fans) for The Strange Case of the Origami Yoda is frequent narrator, Tommy. But, from my perspective, the star of the book is the creator and mouthpiece for the origami Yoda, the oddball, outcast Dwight. While he claims never to have seen the Star Wars movies, Dwight finds his origami Yoda, when perched atop of his finger, is a master at dispensing somewhat cryptic, yet mysteriously pertinent, advice. Tommy is desperate to get to the bottom of this phenomenon because he has a burning question to ask Yoda - if Yoda really is a wise piece of paper and not another odd expression of Dwight's oddball personality. Some of Yoda's advice is spot on, like his suggestion that Kellen splash water all over his pants after a mishap in the boys bathroom with a wet sink. This larger splash will mask the smaller, original splash that made it look like Kellen had wet his pants. However, some of Yoda's advice is off the wall, like the day when the only advice he dispenses, regardless of the question, is, "The Twist you must learn." So, Tommy decides to compile a case file and have each person who asked origami Yoda a question tell his or her story about the incident, allowing Harvey, the skeptic in the group, to add his perspective at the end of each case file. In the process, Kellen, another friend in this group of middling outcasts, adds his doodles to each case file. In addition to this, the pages of the book are printed to look like real paper, creases and all, with tiny, yet accurate sketches of tie-fighters and x-wing fighters in the lower corners. This adds to the authentic diary/journal look of the book, which I think is a major selling point for Jeff Kinney's books, and only serves to enhance the genuine voices of the characters.

Tommy's question pertains to a girl he has a crush on, as do many of the other questions asked of origami Yoda, and this kind of romantic tension is an ongoing theme in the book, albeit one that is VERY low key. Tom Angleberger walks a fine line in terms of age appropriate plot and reading level with The Strange Case of the Origami Yoda. Set in a school, the drama of the book has to come from either a boy-girl situation, a bully or possibly a mean teacher. The more books I review, the more I see the map of children's literature and what terrain can be covered in any given reading level. Real life stories, school stories especially, usually only have a couple of options when it comes to creating dramatic tension that will propel a plot, and that tension is often dictated by the reading level that the book is written at. With books written in a fantasy genre, even those at a second grade reading level, the possibilities for tension and drama and really bad bad guys is much greater. When basing a story in reality, there are certain lines you have to color inside of to keep your story real. Tom Angleberger does this so well I find it very hard to believe that this is his first book for young readers. His writing, although markedly different, is on par with the master of real life kid stories, Andrew Clements, author of one of my favorites, The School Story, among many others.

Once again, I have to begin with the best fantasy beast ever (after the unicorn, right?) the raggant. From the mind of ND Wilson, and brought to life by the amazing artwork of Jeff Nentrup, this little creature gets more page time in Dandelion Fire, but still has yet to fly. The worlds behind the cupboards get more time, too. While much of the plot of 100 Cupboards played out in Henry, Kansas, book 2 in the 100 Cupboards trilogy, Dandelion Fire, takes place almost entirely in the worlds that exist behind the cupboards. However, one thing remains the same. Main character Henry York continues to be beaten, battered, burned and, in book 2, ritualistically carved up as he is pursued by the force of evil released from the cupboards in book 1. Based on the four books by ND Wilson I have read now, he really likes to rough up his characters, although, I have a feeling that my perturbed perspective on this has something to do with my gender and not the genre, ultimately. However, let it be noted that Henry York takes more of a beating in three books than Harry Potter does in seven...

Before I plunge into the details of Dandelion Fire, I need to share an interview Wilson gave with Robbie F. over at the excellently named blog, A Fort Made of Books that helped to deepen my appreciation of what goes into Wilson's writing and what he is doing with the fantasy world he has created. The main focus of A Fort Made of Books is theology, art and entertainment, which provided insight into ND Wilson's background which is rooted very profoundly in classical education and Christianity. In addition to being an editor for CREDENDA/agenda, a religiously and philosophically Christian cultural journal, ND Wilson is on the faculty at New St. Andrews College in Moscow, ID, a school dedicated to classical Christian liberal arts. It was interesting to read Wilson's interview and learn about his religious and academic background as well as have him describe the spiritual elements in the 100 Cupboards trilogy. When asked how his religious beliefs influenced "the overall shape" of the 100 Cupboards trilogy, Wilson answered,

My religious beliefs are part of who I am, so they influence everything I do. But I wasn’t setting out to write a religious story. I wanted to write a good one. Of course, what I think is good is informed by my beliefs. I see patterns—triumph through sacrifice, death and resurrection, small foolish things overthrowing powerful things—everywhere in the world, in history, in literature, in mythology. And I find those patterns beautiful and work to imitate them. I also see the world crawling with mystery, every corner crammed with life and the secrets that sustain it. That is certainly something I try to communicate.

However, as a non-Christian who is also interested in classical studies and the liberal arts, I found it more enlightening (personally) to learn about the literary influences that shaped the world behind the cupboards as well as influenced the setting of Henry, Kansas. Most specifically, I appreciated this response from Wilson when asked what he feels needs to be added to the world of fantasy,

American kids have plenty of fantasy that appeals to them. The question is only how they feel about their own lives and environments when they’ve finished reading. On my last book tour, I ran a little experiment. I would ask groups of kids which country they needed to live in if they wanted to have magical adventures. Of course, fantasy and magic are global. They can wander anywhere. But that’s not what I was told. The answer (always shouted back), was England. I love English fantasy, and that nation (in my own humble o.) has produced the best fantasy to date (a few times over). But I wanted magical imaginations to broaden, to more thoroughly include the taste of Americana mythic. I want kids to look at lonely red barns in the same way that I would have looked at a wardrobe discovered in an empty room. I want the whole world to be seen as magical, including our part of it. And so I use baseball and wheat fields and a tiny rural town in Kansas. Thanks to Oz, we know anything can happen in Kansas.

As a reader of fantasy with an unabashed love of all things British, Wilson's observation stunned me into admitting that there is absolutely no good reason why kids should think they need to live in England to have a magical adventure. There is so much wonderful fantasy that begins and ends in America and the 100 Cupboards trilogy will go a long way towards convincing kids (and adults) of that. In the interview, Wilson also goes into some of the sausage-making details about the worlds behind the cupboards, saying that they are not separate worlds, but a "branch on the same tree, a twig on the same tumbleweed. Move down to the trunk, and it is all only one single world. Move up, and history forks and splinters into different branches of reality." My favorite response, though, was a question as to how all of the magic behind the cupboards works.

Maybe I should keep mum, but I’ll give you a little something here. There are a couple types of magic in the trilogy. The most basic breakdown is between natural and unnatural. An example of natural would be the magic of the faeren. They are able to do what they are able to do in the same way that a bird is able to fly. The wizards (for the most part) are using unnatural magic. They are like men in helicopters—they have to manipulate and force the world to give them its strength. (Not that I have anything against helicopters.) The seventh sons are men with natural magic like the faeren—the world gifts them with different strengths and allows them a measure of control. Darius and Nimiane are blends, but I’ll say no more about them. The doors... now we must apply this to the doors. The faeren have their own “natural” fluctuating connections between distant places which they can control. The forgotten wizards set themselves “unnatural” gashes in reality, and fixed them in place with stone. The cupboard doors are primarily natural connections—but they have been collected and arranged and manipulated in an “unnatural” and dangerous way.

I have never heard an author break down his world like that and I found it fascinating. But, I especially like Robbie's final question for Wilson, which is, "Do you think (or hope) that your work will make the world better? In what ways?" To this, Wilson responds,

Of course, I would be thrilled if the world were to improve thanks to my labors. But I think of myself as a cook (a chef on my fancier days). I want to feed as many young imaginations as I can. I want to feed them well. I want them healthy. I can hope that my readers will be improved and go on to improve the world around them. But more immediately, I can hope that I have given them friends and siblings and cousins in my characters. I can hope that I am brightening days and weeks and dreams.

I think that that is such a wonderful answer and such a grand measure for the value of a book. As a mother, bookseller and reviewer, I am always thinking about the value of a book and weighing the various factors involved in getting a child to read and keeping him/her reading - or, in many cases, helping the voracious reader to choose with a purpose. Every book read doesn't have to be about being entertained and it's not always reading for reading's sake and getting that practice under the belt. I agree whole heartedly with Wilson. When I help a child choose a book, I, too, want to feed their imaginations and feed them well. We want them healthy and not littered and clogged with throw-away books. And, most of all, I hope that they will find "friends and siblings and cousins" in the characters of the books they read. Of course a little candy is okay now and then, but really, there is so much good literature out there, for children and adults, why not read with a purpose beyond just being entertained?

In the 100 Cupboards, as a reader, I felt a bit like Henry, stumbling along as his adventure unfolded around him, mostly unaware of how any of it worked or what he needed to do to fit in to and fix it. With Dandelion Fire, which does not feel like a second in a trilogy AT ALL, all things are explained - mostly - and Henry begins to find his place in the world, although which world still remains to be seen. When the book opens, Henrietta (the reason that the evil witch, Nimiane, has been freed from her prison and is after Henry) has hidden the key to Grandfather's room, making travel through the cupboards impossible for humans. However, Henry and Henrietta are soon out behind the barn digging for the buried key. As a storm approaches Henry has a life-altering physical experience that sets in motion a sort of adolescent transformation and a revelation. I feel like I want to keep mum about what happens in the book - it moves at such a breakneck pace and is so dense with sights, sounds, smells and touches that I strongly encourage you to read it for yourself. Wilson has masterfully crafted a complex fantasy with a world as rich as Narnia and every bit as menacing and dangerous as Middle Earth. And, the characters who inhabit this world, from Fat Frank the faerie and the mysterious Caleb with his dog the size of a pony to the more subdued and possibly even remorseful Henrietta and her father, the humanly flawed Frank, are every bit as complicated and absorbing as the geography they inhabit - be it magical or mundane.

For a detailed rundown of Dandelion Fire, check out the review at Mugglenet, which was also written by Robbie F, to whom I owe a huge debt of thanks for his superb interview with Wilson that could only have come from his expansive understanding of the text.

I am now half way through my third ND Wilson book and I have to say, he really likes to beat the tar out of his main characters - all of whom are boys. Leepike Ridge is Wilson's first published book, his second, 100 Cupboards, is also the first in a trilogy. Having been a female my whole life, this getting beaten up and bashed about thing is still pretty alien to me as I (women in general?) try to stay out of scrapes as much as possible. And, while I do think it is possible to write suspenseful, adventurous stories without the main character having to endure cuts, burns, scratches, bruises, bloody noses, lips, ears and the like, I am getting much more used to this as a rule. I have to agree with the always excellent and enthusiastic Elizabeth Bird over at School Library Journal when she says in her review of Leepike Ridge which ran in the fall of 2007, "I am a traitor to my sex. I must be. All evidence clearly points in that direction. If 2007 is remembered as anything, for me it will be the Year of Boy Books That I Adored While My Female Friends Slowly Shook Their Heads." I have to agree, Leepike Ridge is one great book, just a notch or two below the superlative classic that I am ashamed I have yet to review here (do I need to, though, really?) Hatchet by Gary Paulsen. Hatchet and Johnny Tremain were two "boy books" I staunchly refused to read for many years, but when I did, I was blown away. And grateful. While these are two books that sell themselves, it's always good to be able to put in my two cents when suggesting them to reluctant or uninterested male readers while I am at work.

But back to ND Wilson, for whom my appreciation of his works continues to grow, deepened by an excellent interview by Robbie over at the brilliantly (wish I'd thought of it) named blog A Fort Made of Books. While the interview sheds more light on Wilson's fantasy writing than the reality based Leepike Ridge, I encourage you to check it out. If you forget to, you can see large chunks of it in my review of Book 2 in the 100 Cupboards series, Dandelion Fire. Leepike Ridge has been compared to Tom Sawyer. As Elizabeth Bird aptly notes, it is "an adventure novel with a soul." Wilson's writing and his poetic way with language is what sets him apart from other writers (of fantasy, anyway) like (please, please forgive me) JK Rowling. His turn of a phrase can make readers sit back and observe the scene that Wilson has just laid before them. His way with words can make a reader pause and read a sentence over again. Sometimes Wilson's writing can be clunky, like his opening sentence, "In the history of the world there have been lots of onces and lots of times, and every time has had a once upon it." However, if you find yourself stumbling here and there, that is all the more reason to go back and read a sentence, and occasionally a passage, again.

The story of Leepike Ridge is an adventure story with a treasure at it's heart. I really don't want to give anything away, which is EXTREMELY difficult since there seems to be one surprise after another, a plot twist around every corner. I can tell you this, though. The first two chapters of Leepike Ridge contain some of the best writing about a boy in nature that I have ever read. Thomas Hammond, main character (soon to be beaten and bloodied no end) an only child, lives with his mother in a house at the top of Leepike Ridge. I included an image of the hardcover jacket, front and back, to help you visualize this house that is perched, chained in some places, on this small peak that was once shaped like a crescent moon. At the foot of the peak is a valley of willow trees growing by a stream. It is here that we first meet Tom, in the stream collecting leeches, as he watches a delivery truck carrying a new refrigerator. When he reaches the top of the steps that lead to his house, he finds the empty fridge box "lying on its side, carefully arranged and waiting for him" with a small stack of cookies placed inside on top of the white styrofoam packing. I love Tom's mother. She knows enough to leave the box for him and disappear. She also knows that, at the age of 11 he might feel he is a bit too old to be playing in boxes so she leaves the cookies - inside - to lure him. Being a boy of 11, Tom kicks the box and watches it skid off the ridge, tumbling to the ground far below. As Wilson writes, "The box bounced in the gravel drive and rolled into the long grass, but the foam floated nicely, clearing the first willow trees. The plastic bags disappeared." The scene doesn't end here. Irked by the knowledge that Jeffrey, his mother's boyfriend is coming to dinner and by the fact that his mother has told him to clean up the "trash you just spread through the valley," Tom heads back out to the stream. Once there, he ends up playing with the packing foam and not the box. By the end of chapter two, titled Voyage, that foam will have saved his life.

The story that Wilson churns up is as breakneck and twisted as the river that carries Tom, who has fallen asleep on top of the floating foam, away. If you want to discover the rest for yourself, STOP READING MY REVIEW NOW!

(however - if you plan to read it out loud to your kids without pre-reading it, I need to tell you that there are some bad guys with guns and explosives and plastic bags. There is a murder, or two, also.)

If you want a preview of the plot, READ ON!!

So, Tom gets sucked into this underground river and shot through cavern after cavern, it seems, until he finally finds himself on a quiet, albeit pitch black, shore. Lost inside a cave in the mountain that his house is perched on, Tom bumps into a dead body. Sickened at first, he soon realizes (just like Brian in Hatchet) that this corpse might be holding some important tools. Sure enough, he finds a headlamp, batteries, a small knife, a big ring and a can of sardines - although not without having to reach under the dead guy's bloody beard... He decides that his only chance of survival, battered though he is, is to get back in the river and see where it takes him. But not before he realizes that he can use the knife to scratch a message onto the boots of the dead guy and send them down the river also. Tom is not alone, however. A dog has shown up in the cavern as well, paddling about, and the two head off together.

I'm not telling you the rest, where Tom and the dog end up, who/what they find and if/how they get out alive because, if you've read this far I know that you really do want to read this book and be surprised all on your own!!! Go back and read Elizabeth Bird's review if you really want the beans spilled.

It's not possible to write a review of Wendy Mass' bouyant new book 11 Birthdays without comparing it to the 1993 movie Groundhog Day. Like Bill Murray, Amanda Ellerby is forced to repeat the day of her eleventh birthday, Friday, June 5th, over and over again until she gets it right. That is where the similarities end, however. Mass takes the idea of having to repeat the same day over and over, puts it in the hands of her characters and lets them run with it.

Each named for a great-great grandparent, Amanda Ellerby and Leo Fitzgerald are born on the same in the same birthing center. Unbeknownst to them, their great-great-grandfathers carried on a legendary feud that turned town upside down until they ended it, instantly and mysteriously, and were friends for the rest of their lives. Also unbeknownst to Leo and Amanda is the presence at their births of Angelina D'Angelo, the woman who, with a little bit of magic, brought about the end of the Fitzgerald and Ellerby feud. However, these details aren't revealed until almost the end of the book. And, while they are interesting, the bulk of the plot, which has Amanda, the narrator, reliving the same day over and over again - eleven times in all - until she gets it right, is so much more compelling and entertaining that I didn't even need the magic to make sense of the glitch in time.

Amanda and Leo have always celebrated their birthdays with a joint party. At the start of their tenth birthday parts, Amanda overhears Leo telling a group of boys that he doesn't like having his party with Amanda. Amanda is so hurt by this that she runs out of the party and doesn't speak to Leo again for a year. Aside from losing her best friend, Amanda's grudge also means that there will now be two different parties competing for guests on the same night. Without Leo, Amanda has clung to Stephanie, who sided with Amanda after the fight. Stephanie is a gymnast who wants to make the team and be friends with the popular girls. Amanda is willing to practice her back handspring and try out for the team, but she knows that she's not as good as the other girls and, being a drummer, would rather be trying out for the marching band. Repeating her birthday over and over gives Amanda the chance to work through these tough situations. And, after she and Leo figure out that they are both repeating their birthday, they team up, first to take advantage of the fact that they can do whatever they want and when they wake up in the morning it will all have been erased, and eventually to get to the bottom of the situation and whatever it is that is keeping them stuck.

In case you have never read a Wendy Mass book before, she is a sneaky philosopher. She is a teacher of important life lessons - behind your back. I am sure that as an adult reader I see this more readily in her works than an eleven year old would. Even so, I have no doubt that Amanda's insecurities and refusal to forgive her friend Leo for his hurtful words will resonate with young readers. Just as she did with Jeremy Fink and the Meaning of Life, Mass comes up with a creatively clever device that serves as a teaching tool for the main characters of her books. For Jeremy, a box with four different locks that is inscribed with the words, "THE MEANING OF LIFE: FOR JEREMY FINK TO OPEN ON HIS 13th BIRTHDAY," sends him and his best friend Lizzy on a scavenger hunt around New York City that reveals more answers to the question, "What is the meaning of life?" than there are locks on the box. For Amanda, the opportunity, which to her seems like a curse, to repeat a day over and over, fixing her mistakes as well as doing some good deeds - at first to try to keep the day from repeating, but eventually just because it feels good - ultimately leads her to discover truths about herself and ways to find a balance between her interests and her desire to be a good friend.

This year celebrates the 200th anniversary of the birth of Charles Darwin and there are many books for children and adults recognizing this. One of the most beautiful and and engrossing, and possibly the one that will be the most attractive to young readers who are less than enthralled by science, is Charles Darwin and the Beagle Adventure: Countries Visited During the Voyage Round the World of the HMS Beagle Under the Command of Captain FitzRoy, Royal Navy. The scrapbook format of this book, made popular by the Ology series of books, also published by Candlewick Press, is what makes this book so easy to pick up and fall into. My 5 year old, who cannot read yet, has spent minutes (for him, this is a very long time to sit still in one spot, regardless of what he is doing) poring over this book at a time, picking it up again and again. On top of that, our local Natural History Museum has an exhibit titled Darwin: Evolution/Revolution at which we were able to see artifacts and facsimiles of artifacts that accompanied Darwin on the HMS Beagle. This, too, proved fascinating for my son. Why? I may never know... But, I think this might be a testament to the universally interesting life of Charles Darwin.

Like Professor Ari Berk's gorgeous books, Charles Darwin and the Beagle Adventure is, above all else, a collection of the work of amazing artists. I have always been a fan of antique scientific drawings, be they of flora or fauna, and this book does not disappoint. There are also historical photographs and engravings included in the book. Small books within the book and flaps conceal added information about the subject and his journey. There are "booklets" on Erasmus Darwin, Charles's famous grandfather, navigation, orchids, slavery, hydrography, Darwin and the Bible, the geologist Charles Lyell who may have been Darwin's greatest influence, and rodents of the Andes, to name a few. There is also a fold-out chart showing the principle tracks of the Beagle as well as envelopes containing the reproduction of a letter written by Darwin as well as a family tree and a final envelope containing a brief version of his Theory of Evolution that took him 20 years to publish, as well as a handful of "photographs" that illustrate this.

Two-page spreads, with the occasional four-page spread, make up the "chapters" of this book. Beginning with an introduction that focuses on Darwin's early life, the chapters also cover the preparations for the trip, the HMS Beagle, the voyage to Brazil, South America, Patagonia, Cape Horn, the Galapagos, and the voyage back to England. The most fascinating thing that I learned as I read this book was the story of the Fuegians. When FitzRoy and the HMS Beagle first visited the island of Tierra del Fuego in 1830, he adopted four native children and took them home to England with him. FitzRoy renamed the boys Boat Memory, York Minster, Jemmy Button and the girl Fuegia Basket. They were returned to their island homeland in 1832 along with a missionary who, along with the children was meant to help spread "civilization" among the Fuegians. The missionary lasted a matter of days and was taken back on board the Beagle.