Tink and I fell in love last night. With this:
My Best Friend
by Mary Ann Rodman,
illus. E.B. Lewis
First of all, look at that cover. It's gorgeous. The inside is just as gorgeous. Honestly, the book could have had no words and no story and it would still be worth falling in love.
But it does have a story, and if you know anyone who is a year older than you and cool, it is the story of your life. Six year old Lily desperately wants to be best friends with seven year old Tameka, but Tameka barely notices her. Lily tries having the right kind of bathing suit and learning how to dive, but it's useless.
While I read, Tink squirmed and shook her head. 'That's never going to work," she predicted. "Oh boy," she worried. "Ugh," she groaned, squirming in recognition.
When I got done, she sighed in contentment. "That was good," she said, hugging the book.
Then we spent the rest of bedtime looking at the pictures all over again, and wishing it was summer and we were swimming.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
My Best Friend
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2 comments:
Those responses you describe? Your books get them, too, you know ... I trust you've seen it. I know I have.
Sniff. I was almost always Lily, wistful to get Tameka's attention. That cover would have me reaching for the book straight away, anticipatory tears in my eyes.
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