THREE CHAPTER BOOKS

I really wanted to be at NCTE in Boston this weekend. Since I wasn't, I drowned my sorrows by reading. I finished an adult novel for book club, then read two chapter books that I have been wanting to read since last summer.

ORPHAN TRAIN by Christina Baker Kline is an adult book (but could easily be read by a middle school reader). Seventeen-year-old Molly is growing up in the foster care system in Maine. When she steals a copy of JANE EYRE from the library, she is sentenced to fifty hours of community service with Vivian, a 91-year-old woman who needs her attic cleaned. Molly doesn't expect to enjoy the experience, but soon discovers that she and Vivian, who was part of the Orphan Train from New York to Minnesota as a young girl, have much in common. Alternating chapters tell the two women's stories.

COUNTING BY 7's is a story about another orphan. Willow Chance is a very gifted (genius) twelve-year-old, who finds herself an orphan after her parents are killed in a car accident. Through a series of "chance" encounters, she is taken in by Pattie, a Vietnamese woman who lives in a garage behind a nail salon, and her two teenagers, Mai and Quang-Ha. Willow and Quang-Ha are both under the care of a less than competent school counselor, Dell, who also becomes part of the Willow's extended family, as does Jairo, a taxi driver. Sloane has done an amazing job knitting together the lives of these quirky characters; I cried at the end of this story.

Last night, I read ELEANOR AND PARK, another story about a brave young woman, growing up on her own. Eleanor is in high school. She's overweight, has a mop of red curls, and wears Goodwill clothes that never quite fit. When the book opens, Eleanor has just moved back in with her family- her mom, an abusive stepfather, and four younger siblings (who are all sharing a bedroom). On the bus to school, Eleanor begins a relationship with Park, a Korean boy who has a loving family, but never quite feels like he fits in either. A teenage love story with a shocking ending. I can think of so many middle schoolers who need this book.

TWO BOOKS FOR READERS

 I love books about readers! Here are two from my stack of CYBILS Nonfiction Nominees.

"Thomas Jefferson learned to read. And then, he never stopped. 

He sat and he read. 

He walked and he read. and then, lying in bed,

 instead of sleeping, he read. "

So begins Barb Rosenstock's picture book biography, THOMAS JEFFERSON BUILDS A LIBRARY. Rosenstock traces Jefferson's love of books and reading from childhood (he supposedly read every book in his father's library before he was six), through his long political career. While he was president, Jefferson helped build the nation's Library of Congress,  then, after more than three thousand books were lost when British soldier burned them in 1814, he donated his extensive personal library to create the Library of Congress in Washington D.C.  

Rosenstock's text (which would be a great mentor text for teaching about voice in nonfiction) is hugely complemented by John O'Brien's illustrations; I really can't understand why I'm not seeing this book on Caldedcott lists. Very, very clever- there are books everywhere! The title page, for example, is a Library of Congress, made of out of books. On another page, Jefferson is astride a horse, with a book saddle.  Interesting facts and quotes are contained in book-shaped sidenotes and inserts on each page.

Another reading related biography, MISS MOORE THOUGHT OTHERWISE, details the life of Anne Carroll Moore, the woman who created the New York City Public Library's Children's Department. Anne Carroll Moore, grew up in LImerick Maine, where libraries included some books for older boys, not many for girls or young children. Moore moved to New York to attend the Pratt Institute's Library School, then became the librarian at the Pratt Free Library, where they had a children's room. Eventually, she was asked to take on the children's rooms for all libraries in New York City. Moore set an example for children's libraries across the country-William Howard Taft attended the dedication, and people like Theodore Geisel came to read at special events. Debby Atwell's gorgeous, brightly colored folk-artish kind of paintings add much to this story.

CELEBRATE ON SATURDAY

 

About six weeks ago, Ruth Ayres launched Celebrate Saturday. It's a fun way to review the week and after you will want to head over to Ruth's blog and read more celebrations.

I've been a teeny bit, OK, actually more than a teeny bit, sad for the last couple of weeks. Everyone has been posting about NCTE 2013, held this weekend in Boston.

And even though NCTE is one of my favorite, favorite conferences, I'm not there. With two kids in college, out of state conferences are just not a possibility.  I am sad about missing all of the great sessions. I'm sad about missing the rich conversations. And I'm saddest of all about not seeing dear friends.

I decided, then, to celebrate this weekend by reconnecting with a dear friend.

Cyrene was one of the first people I met when I moved to New Hampshire. A former middle school teacher, Cyrene was a year ahead of me in the doctoral program. She and her husband Jim sort of adopted me, and made me part of their family for the four years I spent in New Hampshire.

Cyrene was one of my biggest cheerleaders during my years at UNH. She responded to one pagers, helped me hammer out the chapters of my dissertation, shared syllabi from courses she had taught. When I turned in the last edit of my dissertation, we celebrated by riding the Matterhorn at IRA.

Cyrene and Jim were avid Patriots fans. I spent many a Sunday afternoon in their family room, cheering for their favorite team. I lost more than one bet when the Broncos played the Patriots. Cyrene and Jim have a cabin on an island in New Hampshire and they introduced me to the joys of island life.

When I moved back to Colorado, Cyrene and I met every year at NCTE. Usually, I'd work on Thursday morning, then jet off to the conference, eager to see my favorite roomie. We'd  share dinners and sessions, stay up late exchanging book titles and family photos. And there would always be Saturday morning oatmeal with Don and Betty Graves.

When I adopted the boys, Cyrene and Jim celebrated by sending a box of Christmas ornaments for our first tree. That year at NCTE, Cyrene and I shopped for silly stocking stuffers (bodily fluids and embarassments figured prominently).

The last three or four years I have not gone to NCTE and somehow, Cyrene and I have kind of lost touch. I have been thinking about my dear friend all week. This morning I decided I would celebrate by sending her an email. I'm hoping the address that I have is accurate, and we will be able to reconnect.

Because today I'm celebrating dear friends…

TWO ANIMAL BOOKS FOR YOUNG READERS

A new book by two of my favorite Colorado authors? I'm definitely in!

MY FIRST DAY by Steve Jenkins and Robin Page is a collection of interesting facts about how more than 20 animals spend their first day. The Darwin Frog spends its first days inside a special pouch in the father's throat. The wood duck jumps out of its nest in a tree, falls a long way, then paddles after its mother. A baby sea otter dozes on its mama's belly while she floats in the waves. A california sea lion calls back and forth to its mama until she and the mama can recognize each other's voices and she won't get lost. A Mexican free tailed bat's mother recognizes its call and scent from millions other bats. The baby manatee's mama lifts it to the surface for its first breath, but within an hour it's swimming and breathing on its own.

Of course, the reader falls in love with Jenkins signature collage illustrations. Three pages of endnotes have tiny thumbnails and five or six more facts about each animal.

Thinking this would be a perfect sibling gift for a family with a new baby!

And then another favorite author/illustrator, has a gorgeous new book for the just-beginning-to-actually-read-the actual text set. WHAT AM I? WHERE AM I? is a riddle book. Each section of the book begins with a circular picture of part of an animal and the question, "What am I?" The reader makes a guess, then turns the page to see a two-page spread of the full animal, with the text, "I am a ________. Where am I?"  The reader turns the page again and sees, "I am in a ________."

A great nonfiction text for beginning readers. Classic detailed, watercolor Lewin illustrations. Great introduction to habitat vocabulary (grassland, tundra, forest). Another sure winner!

CELEBRATE

YIKES! I almost forgot about celebrating today. One of the reasons I forgot is because I was reading a great book, one of my favorite genre, historical fiction. ORPHAN TRAIN is two stories, woven together. Molly is a seventeen-year-old girl who has grown up in the foster care system. In trouble for stealing a book from the library, she gets assigned to do community service cleaning an attic for a 91- year-old woman named Vivian. Molly soon discovers that Vivian was orphaned in a fire, and rode an orphan train from New York to Minnesota. It's a great story and one that I could definitely celebrate.

That's not what I'm celebrating though. I'm reading the book for book club next Friday, and book club is what I'm celebrating tonight. My book club has been together for a long, long time, more than 15 years. We started out with seven or eight people (it's been so long I can't exactly remember). I think the first book we read was MIDNIGHT IN THE GARDEN OF GOOD AND EVIL. We've been meeting, pretty much once a month, ever since.

That's a lot of books, but maybe more importantly, it's a whole lot of living. When Karen got married, we had our own rehearsal dinner, buying the ugliest bridesmaids' dresses we could find at the Goodwill, and then surprising Karen by wearing them to dinner at a fancy restaurant. We celebrated with Terri when she was married for the first time at age 50. We had a Hello Kitty sleepover at a hotel when Val moved to Iowa. When I surprised book club by announcing that I had decided to adopt, they quickly took on the role of the "Book Aunties," bringing casseroles and babysitting and providing moral support.

We've celebrated a lot of losses too. We've struggled together through hard jobs and bad bosses. We've all lost parents- my dad and Karen and Terri's mom to cancer, Brenna's dad to Alzheimers. We've watched dreams die. And through out all, we have been together.

Those gals- Karen, Laura, Brenna, Terri, and Val (from three thousand miles away) are my home girls.

And tonight, I'm celebrating more than twenty years of reading and friendship.

POETRY FRIDAY- DAVID WHYTE

Photo by Jonathan Zander, found on Wikimedia Commons

Once or twice a week, Parker J. Palmer posts a poem on his Facebook page. And somehow, almost every time, they are poems that speak to something deep within my soul. I go back and reread them again and again.

David Whyte is a poet that shows up a lot in Palmer's post. And finally I got curious enough that I googled Whyte and went to his website. He's published a lot, and he speaks a lot, and maybe I have read other things by him, and just don't know it, but he has definitely jumped onto my list of favorite poets, right up there with Mary Oliver and Billy Collins.

On his home page, I found a poem I absolutely loved. It's not very long, and I couldn't figure out how to share a part of it. I probably used too much, and I didn't do it justice here, at all. Please take a minute and go to his website and read the poem.


"The Lightest Touch"

Good poetry begins
with the lightest touch…

then like a hand in the dark
it arrests the whole body…

you can feel Lazarus
deep inside
even the laziest, most deathly afraid
part of you
lift up his hands and walk toward the light.

Read the rest of this incredible poem here.


And then, in what seems like an incredible act of generosity, Whyte has a page with links to 13 more poems. Here are parts of two I loved. 

Arrivals

Imagine the confines of a long grey corridor
just before immigration at Washington Dulles
airport. Imagine two Ethiopian women amid
a sea of familiar international plastic blandness,
entering America for the first time…

Imagine a sharp plexi-glass turn left and suddenly
before them, in biblical astonishment, like a vertical
red sea churning, like the waters barring Moses from
The Promised Land, like Jacob standing before the ladder,
a moving escalator, a mode of rising, a form of ascension,
a way to go up they'd never seen before, its steel grey
interlocking invitation on and up to who knows what,
bringing them and everyone behind them, to a bemused,
complete, and utter standstill

So that you saw it for the first time as they saw it
and for what it was, a grated river of lifting steel,
an involuntary, moving ascension into who knows what.
An incredible surprise…

David Whyte

Read the rest of the poem here.

Second Sight

Sometimes, you need the ocean light,
    and colors you've never seen before
        painted through an evening sky.
Sometimes you need your God
    to be a simple invitation,
        not a telling word of wisdom.
Read the rest of the poem here.

Visit David Whyte's website here. Poke around a little while- there are beautiful poems and words hidden on almost every page. Your spirit will feel better after you do.

Jama is hosting Poetry Friday today. You will want to drop by for more delicious offerings.

FROG SONG

FROG SONG is a magical, musical, melodic, tribute to frogs.

"Frogs have a song for trees, bogs, burrows, and logs. When frogs have enough moisture to keep gooey eggs, squirmy tadpoles, and hoppity adults from drying out they can sing almost anywhere. CROAK! RIBBIT! BZZT! PLONK! BRACK! THRUM-RUM!"

After that introduction, each two page spread focuses on a different and unusual frog from all over the world.

"In Chile, the Darwin's frog sings in the beech forest. Chirp-Chweet! The male guards 30 eggs in the damp leaves for three weeks. When the tadpoles wiggle, he scoops them into his mouth. SLURP! They slither into his vocal sacs, where he keeps them safe and moist for seven weeks. Then he gives a big yawn and little froglets pop out. "

I could see kids poring over this book with an atlas or globe right beside them.

I'm not even sure where to begin to talk  about Gennady Spirin's illustrations. They are so lifelike and detailed you almost feel like you are looking at photographs. I wonder if Spiring might do illustrations for scientific journals. And I'm not at all surprised to have seen this book on more than one Mock Caldecott list. Think it's definitely a contender.

A two page spread in the back gives a photo, range, size, and a quick fact about each frog. Another page describes "Frogs in Trouble."

FROG SONG could be used in a unit on animals, or adaptation, or protecting the earth. It could be used in a nonfiction study of  text structure. Or in writing for voice.

Or it could simply be read and reread and enjoyed, because it's wonderful!