Book Review: Splendors and Glooms by Laura Amy Schlitz

Just finished reading Splendors and Glooms. It was the Newbery Medal winner this year. She also wrote Good Masters! Sweet Ladies, also a Newbery Medal winning fiction picture book. (BTW... I went to another library and because my zip code sits on the boarder with another city, the second library let me borrow the books because I lied and said I lived in the other city.)

I thought it was an endearing story and provided a satisfying ending for any middle grade reader. I especially loved  Parsefall and the colloquial pauper ole' English he spoke.

Also, another heavy dialogue character in the book's villain, Grisini, who speaks words and sentences in Italian. It bothered me tremendously that the author never explained what the character had said.

The author's use of language was fabulous. For example, "Except for his industry, he had few good qualities." or "Only the wind pursued them."

The book reminded me of The Underneath because its fairy tale like quality and it's told in omnipresent. I liked it much more than The Underneath, but I don't think it's exactly MG because it is quite scary--although that can be said about the latter Harry Potter books which children devoured.  The story line had no love interest or older humor and wouldn't exactly fit in the YA market, either. Although the book was wonderful, it is more for adults with children as the main characters. It is a plot driven book with endearing characters, but no real theme, unless I want to force the "there's no place like home" mantra at the end.

I like it enough to recommend it, and listing to the recording on Audible, it sounds like it is a brilliant audio book, which I plan to download it for my daughter.

Hey Mr. Postman...

Until we are completely settled, my husband and I have a box at our city's post office.

Never before had I seen POB that open with a combination using the alphabet. Think you can crack our combination?

Cicada Serenade...

What would it be like to be serenaded by a bunch of bugs fifteen hours out of every day? How lucky we are to have a visit from the cicada, who makes his presence know every seventeen years, by hatching out of the ground and filling all the trees in my neighborhood. It's like our very own nature orchestra.

This bugs occupy all the surround trees, and similar to the wave at in sporting event stadium, these bugs chirp/buzz-like noise sends a sound wave through the different trees. It is the weirdest thing I've ever heard. 

Book Review: Bomb: The Race to Build and Steal the World's Most Dangerous Weapon by Steve Sheinkin

Once again, I found myself deeply engulfed in this non-fiction book which one a Newbery Honor, The Robert F Sibert Medal, YALSA-ALA Winner of the Excellence in Young Adult Nonfiction, and a National Book Award Finalist. It is easy to understand why after reading it.

Steve Sheinkin's Bomb: The Race to Build and Steal the World's Most Dangerous Weapon was fascinating to me, and I learned so much while reading it.

First, Albert Einstein did not help create the Atom Bomb. What Einstein did was send a letter to President Franklin D Roosevelt explaining about a scientific discovery in Germany which has the possibility of creating devastating weapons. The discovery was made by the German chemist, Otto Haun, who discovered the splitting of uranium atoms and the chain-reaction called fission.

Second, President Roosevelt took the information seriously and created a department specifically for beating Germany in the race to build the Atomic Bomb. Robert Oppenheimer, a physicist and professor at Berkley, was given the job. He recruited a top team of scientist from all over the world to see the project through. Their job was to build a bomb before Hitler.

Third, and what I loved most about the book was the espionage angle between the US and the USSR, which I never knew existed during World War II. I grew up in the 80’s cold war era and the arms race to be the country with the most nuclear weapons. My generation grew up with the constant fear and threat of war.

I never knew that a nineteen-year-old American genius and fellow scientist named Ted Hall was be one of the spies that handed over the instructions on how to build a nuclear weapon to the Russians. The book details his reasons for his decisions as a Communist sympathizer. Hall figured that no one nation should have a monopoly on war technology, and since Russia was doing most of the fighting against Germany, it was only fair that the information is shared with them.

After reading this book it was easy for me to see the marketing potential to children in both the history arena and the real spy cat-and-mouse game between the US and Russia.

Book Review: Crazy by Amy Reed

In an attempt to add to my list of competitive works, I checked out CRAZY by Amy Reed from the library. The novel is told through emails being shot back and forth between the two main character's dual points of view. Both of them are eighteen and in there last year of high school. This is the only reason why I can see it was put in the YA section.

I don't think the YA section is the correct place for it. There was a lot of profanity--which fits in with the actions of a manic depressive personality, so that part I can understand--and vivid sexual descriptions.

Sexual acting out is a common sign of the irrational and impulsive behavior BP personalities deal with, so that adds to the book’s realistic edge. Maybe it was too shocking and realistic for me to handle because I am Isabel, although I wasn't diagnosed with BP until I was thirty-five.

Reed does an excellent job and creating two very different POVs. It is obvious that Connor, a boy, has a co-dependent crush on Isabel, the exciting yet mental disturbed person.

Reed does a fabulous job describing/showing Isabel's destructive behavior before a diagnosis is given.

If I had to describe this author, I would say her writing is like Laurie Halse Anderson on steroids.  It is a compelling read, though, and I would recommend it to any older teenager dealing with these same issues.

Book Review: Hitler Youth: Growing Up in Hitlers Shadow by Susan Campbell Bartoletti

The first SCBWI National Conference I attended was in the Summer of 2009. During one of the outbreak sessions, there was an interview with three successful non-fiction authors. They took turns answering questions from Lin Oliver about their craft. Susan Campbell Bartoletti was one of those authors.

Bartoletti's book, Hitler Youth: Growing Up in Hitler's Shadow won both a Newbery Honor and a Robert E. Sibert Honor. I remember wanting to buy it at the conference, but there were so many books from all the conference speakers, I had to limit my choices to what I could afford.

Five years later, having almost completely forgotten about her book, I'm in the library searching for the 2012 Newbery Medal book by Steve Sheinkin, when I found Susan's book.

After reading, The Book Thief, I understood how not all of the country was in love with their Fuhrer, Adolph Hitler, but it was Susan's book that made history come alive, and actually brought the children back to tell their own biographies.

I'm so glad I read it.

Book Review: Storyteller by Patricia Reilly Giff

I purchased Storyteller at a Scholastic Warehouse sale. I remembered the author's name, but have never read any of her books.

If anyone tries say that book covers don't influence purchasing decisions, then they are wrong. I bought the book because the girl on the cover was pretty and she reminded me of my daughter.

This story goes back and forth between two points of view, and it was nothing like I thought it would be. From the flap, I thought it would have some supernatural connection. Instead, it was written as a mystery--the main character needs to find out more about a girl in an old photograph.

The main character, Elizabeth, lives in the present and finds an old-fashion photo of girl, Zee, who is supposed to have a big mystery behind her life which Elizabeth is going to unravel.

Zee, Elizabeth's distant relative from the Revolutionary War era, was the second point of view. I thought Zee's POV and experiences of living during the war for our country's independence much more compelling, and I had to stop myself from skipping over the chapters with Elizabeth.

Patricia Reilly Giff is a Newbery Honor winner for Lily's Crossing, which I enjoyed very much. But with this novel, I thought the historical fiction aspects of the novel outshined the present.

While the Cat's Away, The Mice Will . . . Read

My husband went to CA for an ERSI convetion in San Diego and Lucy, my soon-to-be-fourteen-year-old daughter, tagged along. What turned out to be a three day visit turned out to be eleven. The reason for their extended stay was a last minute doctor appointment at Kaiser.

During his check-up he was tested for sleep apnea, which I could have told them he has, and it turns out the his condition was one of the worst the doctor had seen. He ended up staying extra days so that they could fit him for breathing apparatus.

I stayed at home in TX to take care of my wonderful girls, our two boxers. While alone with the girl I read several books. They are:

1. Storyteller by Patricia Reilly Giff
2. The Edumacation of Jay Baker by Jay Clark
2. Hitler Youth: Growing Up In Hitlers Shadow by Susan Campbell Bartoletti
3. Just Write, Here's How by Walter Dean Meyers
4. Splendors and Glooms by Laura Amy Schlitz
5. Crazy by Amy Reed
6. Bomb: The Race to Build and Steal the World's Most Dangerous Weapon by Steve Sheikin

For those interested, I will provide my personal book reviews in the upcoming blogs. For those who frankly don't give a darn, it makes no difference to me. I write to challenge myself as a writer and not for anyone in particular to read.

P.S. I finally got a library card by lying about what city I lived in. My zip code is shared by another city just 2 miles on the other side of the freeway. When filling out my library card for the Cedar Hill City Library, I said I lived in the neighboring city and wallah I got to check out the books I'd tried to get three weeks before.

Texas Wildflowers

The following flowers look like Audrey II from Little Shop of Horrors.

"Feed Me Seymore."   

Silky seeds from Audrey II

Dangerous Intersection...

This is a sign on S. Houston School Road. 

It is posted about fifty feet before the cross street on Bear Creek,

which is the main road I turn onto to get to my house one mile from this point.

 This is the road behind me at the stop sign.

I have never seen more than five or six cars on the road whenever I'm driving on it, but at least now I know how dangerous it is so I will be more careful.

This is the road to the left of me at the stop sign.

This is the road to my right of the stop sign. 

Crack(s) Kills... Concrete Foundations, that is.

When looking for a home, our awesomely-wonderful, hardworking and honest Realtor named Perry Flowers--I kid you not, that is his name--pointed out vital information about the houses we looked at for possible purchase.

He showed us the warning signs of damaged or poor roof and chimney construction, and he advised us on homes that had cracked foundations from the earth shifting (expanding/contraction) due to the clay soil here in North Texas.

There were houses we looked at that had lifted or slanting tile; he even rolled a marble down a hallway to show how a home that we really liked wouldn't be the wisest choice for our new home. He also showed us slight cracks in the ceiling or chimneys that were warning signs that the property we were viewing wasn't for us.

On the last home we inspected, we fell in love with a home because it was everything I had asked for: one story, brick-dairy exterior, land for our dogs to run around, plus no evidence of cracked foundation or roof leaks, and it had only been on the market for two days. We put in our bid and it was accepted shortly after.

When we arrived, there had been plenty of rain, so the yards and fields were green with with beautiful wildflowers. But, now, it has been over 21 days without rain and the clay soil is shriveling up like chapped lips in the sun.

Here are two of what I mean:

   

The ground swells when it rains and cracks when it's dry. As I stare hopelessly at the widening crevasses, I understand how Billie Joe felt in Karen Hess's book Out of the Dust.

Toilet Seat Covers

Today was the first day I had to use a public bathroom since our move to Texas.

It all started on a quest for the UPS Store, which ended up being in a city 20 miles away. To my delight, in the same shopping center,  I found a Sprouts and Bath and Body Works, but they were closed at the time. 

On my drive back home, I really had to pee, so I pulled into the local Micky D's--for the most part their bathrooms are usually clean, and sprinted for the little girls room. I barged into the largest stall, and impatiently wasted forty valuable seconds on the lock, cursing under my breath during the struggle for privacy.   

Anyway, I ungracefully whipped down my pants while scanning the room for the toilet seat covers.  OMG, I can understand if the bin is empty, but to have no bins on the wall at all has got to be a mistake.To make matters worse, the toilet paper was out. 

I preformed the tightest Kegel in my life, pulled up my drawers and walked cross-legged to the next stall. And, you guessed it, no freakin seat cover dispenser. At least there was toilet paper, so I carefully laid out a hand made version, and then had an almost orgasmic urinating experience from holding it forever. 

As I got closer to my town, I wondered if it was just a McDonald's no toilet seat covers thing, so I pulled into a Jack-in-the-box off my freeway exit and hobbled in to check out the bathroom. Nope... not in that restroom either. 

Maybe it's a fast food thing, but next time I'm at Barnes and Noble or Panera (also in the next city) you bet I will check out the loo. 

Getting a gun permit is easier thant checking out library books

My husband already has a California gun permit, so he decided to apply for a Texas permit and a concealed gun permit. Here are the rules: In Texas, to get a gun permit you must show your id and wait fifteen days for a background check.

My library card experience:

After three weeks of residency, I thought it’s time to get a library card. I searched the Dallas County library catalogs and saw that the Polk Library, fifteen miles from home, had all three 2013 Newbery winning books that I haven’t read yet.

Completely excited, I drove to the library, found the books and proceeded to the check out desk to fill out the application for a library card.

The librarian sighed after looking at my license, and told me that I need a loan permission card from my town’s local library, Lancaster Veterans Memorial Library. I explained how I chose the Dallas County library search because, I know from experience, city libraries don’t have the large selection that county libraries do.

“Unfortunately,” she said, “there is nothing I can do about that, but I will hold your books until next Wednesday when you we return with your lending card.”

My thank you expressed both my frustration and disappointment, and I headed off to my city’s local library.

First thing I did when I arrived at my next stop was search the shelves for my books, which they did not have. Then I went to the counter to fill out my paperwork for my local library’s card and get the slip that I needed to check out the books from Polk.

This librarian wasn't as nice as the other, and her reply to me was, “To get a library card you need a Texas Driver’s license and a utility bill to prove I lived where I said I lived.” 

I handed her my paper license, since I hadn't received my permanent one yet. She kept glancing at the clock, as it was twenty-five minutes till closing, and she barely paid attention to me as I explained that we just moved here and I have not received a current utility bill.

For my entertainment, she performed a little annoyed cough and said, “We can accept a rental contract or mortgage paperwork instead.”

“You’re kidding, right? Can’t you ask a supervisor for an exception?”  The woman huffed and left to find the branch manager.

When she returned, she begrudgingly took my paper license and began the new library card process. I explained that I needed a lending card because the Polk Library was holding three books for me to pick up by Wednesday.”

After looking at the clock again, she said. “You don’t qualify for that paper, until you've had your library card for ninety days.”

“Now, you’re joking.” I started laughing, mostly to keep from yelling, and replied, “I wasn't advised that at the Polk library.”

“That’s our policy,” she said, “we are the responsible if you fail to return the book.”

Thank gawd, I took my anxiety pill because I kept my temper, and instead pleaded, “Isn't there something I can fill out so the books can be sent here?”

The clock read ten-till-six, and the line grew with all the last second check-outs. The librarian, reached over the counter, pulled out a form from the plastic bin in front of me and told me to fill out the form and bring it back on Monday.

I grabbed two more forms and left the library defeated.

Bright and early Monday morning, I returned to the library with my completed forms. Smiling, I handed the forms to a younger, friendlier librarian. She dawned an I'm so sorry mask as she informed me that I would have to wait thirty days until I can be eligible for a library book transfer.

“When I was here Friday, no one informed me of this,” I whined. “The Polk Library is even holding these books for me.”

Her voice remained calm, despite the frustration in mine, as she piled on more ridiculous policy rules. “And even after the thirty-day waiting period, it can take from two to eight weeks to receive the books at our location.”

“But the librarian at Polk is holding my books!” My frustration oozed out. “That should expedite things. She knows I’m expecting these books.”

Being overly polite, she replied, “Procedure is procedure. Holding books does not guarantee when the books will arrive here.”


Needless to say, I never received my books.

Can't Make This Stuff Up

Two nights ago, I went to ER at 12 a.m. for knee pain I've been dealing with for over a month and I found out I have a torn meniscus on the inside ligament of my right knee and the bone is popping in/out and away from my patella. I have to keep my leg immobilized for three weeks, and then see an orthopedic surgeon about the possibility of putting a pin in my patella to keep the bones from moving.

OMG... NOW THE FUNNY PART:

While in the ER, the room I was assigned had cable television and the channel it was on was Starz. A movie was already in progress and it looked like a comedy because of the slap-stick scenes that I watched before I was taken off for x-rays.  The volume was off so I couldn't hear what it was about.

When the nurse brought me back to the room after x-rays she helped me onto the bed and left.

When I looked up at the screen, the movie was still playing, but it wasn’t a comedy. It was a porn movie. And not just boobie porn, but it had a subplot where two socially awkward men snuck on a farm behind an unsuspecting goat.  The movie showed the men’s butts as they pulled down their pants, and then the camera panned to show the goat.  I won’t fill in the rest.

I scanned the room for the remote, which was, of course, nowhere to be found. My curtains were closed, and the nurses were with other patients, so they couldn't hear me calling. Well, there I lay with my forearm covering my eyes, laughing my butt off, very grateful for the lack of sound.

Anyway, when a staff member finally returned to my room, it wasn't a nurse that came in first. It was a young, tan, doctor whose first impression of me was a fresh set of ta-tas playing on the screen above me.

Apologizing profusely, he grabbed the remote from a cabinet and switched the television to the Disney Channel. The hospital waived my out-of-pocket provider fee, gave me a steroid shot in my backside, wrapped my knee and sent me on my way.

What great material for a book, right?  Maybe Frank Portman (King Dork) or Jay Clark (The Edumacation of Jay Baker) can use it in one of their edgy teen boy novels.

Got a story that can beat this one. If so, I'd love to hear it. I think it comes real close to my brain falling into my sinus cavity--a story I'll blog later.