This Week's Library Haul

This week's library haul was huge in number, range, and impact. Here are some highlights.

So far, this Jacqui Reads Her Children & Herself Books By & About People Different From Her (explanation here) idea is one of the best I've had.


I'd Really Like to Eat a Child
by Sylviane Donnio, illus. Dorothee deMonfried

How can you not love a book with that title? And yes, it is about an alligator who wants to eat a kid. But he's too little, so when he tries, the tasty morsel he's chosen calls him cute and then tosses him in a lake. I wish I could find (and pirate) the interior art of that page, because it's hilarious. We had several good laughs with this one, which has the bonus of adding the phrase "I'd really like to eat a child" to your child-chasing-pretending-to-nibble game.

The next two books are more appropriate for elementary kids, not preschoolers.

Pitching in for Eubie
by Jerdine Nolen, illus. E.B. Lewis

Have you read Plantzilla? What about Harvey Potter's Balloon Farm? Did you know they were written by the same person and that in addition to hilarity, she writes lovely realistic picture books like this one?

Well, I didn't, and now I'm a little in awe of Jerdine Nolan. I picked this book up because we were so in love with E.B. Lewis's illustrations in My Best Friend (and his ten million other books). In it, a little sister tries to figure out what she can do to pitch in when the whole family works to pay for her older sister's college tuition. Tink liked it, and the artwork is as fabulous as anticipated. Also, it drove us back to Plantzilla, prompting the announcement "I like her funny books better." Which I can understand.


Henry's Freedom Box
by Ellen Levine, illus. Kadir Nelson

Tink is a little fascinated by the idea of the Underground Railroad. I think it appeals to kids her age, because the horrors of slavery are so overwhelming to envision that it helps them to focus on what somebody was doing to fight it. This is the great true story of a slave who mailed himself to freedom. It's a great example of one person's tale giving the larger historical story. There is pain and loss and terror in it, but delivered in a way that even my somewhat tender-hearted seven year old could handle it. And, it's Kadir Nelson; do I have to mention that the illustrations are fantastic?

Also, we took out ten (I swear I am not exaggerating) Rainbow Fairy Magic Books, which are about people different from me as I do not GASP every fifteen seconds and have an unnatural fascination with Jack Frost. We had to take out ten because it wasn't enough for Tink to be obsessed: Destructo had to decide he loves them too. "I do yuv fair-yeez, you know, Mama." I know, Destructo. "Why you hitting you-self on the head with dat book, Mama?"

The Adorable Kitten of Death

We interrupt to bring you this week's Thursday News of the Absurd Will Someone Please Write This Book Inspirational Moment. We are going to be religious about our TNoftheAWSPWTBIMs from now on, due to a comment from a non-writer friend that Jacqui's Room is "hilarious, except when you talk about, you know, writing."

Leaving the fact that this means I am funny approximately 1% of the time, there's a new grim reaper in town and I love this story idea.

From YahooNews & Reuters:

Doctor casts new light on cat that can predict death

In 2007, scientists released a paper describing Oscar, a nursing home cat who can sense death coming; he consistently curls up in bed with people right before they die. Now the doctors who broke the story are concerned Oscar has gotten an unwarranted reputation for being a harbinger of doom, when really he's just trying to comfort people.

Yeah. Right. Even I, a lifelong cat lover, have to scoff. A cat who wants to comfort humans?

Oscar is clearly killing these people. OR, Oscar can sense death coming, because Oscar is Death. And that is the book I want. What if Death were not a skeletal or pale-faced hooded ghoul? Because who wouldn't run from that? If Death really wants to trap as many folks as possible, he'd appear as a totally adorable kitty-witty.

But outside the nursing home where they recognize him, Death gets no respect. He comes to take people's souls and lay his cold paws upon them and they all pet him and forget how to say the 'l' sound.

"Oh, is the widdle kitty twying to --"

Death tries to growl, "I am NOT a widdle kitty. I am the Gwim Weaper." But the people just giggle and offer him milk.

Okay, maybe it's not a book. Maybe it's a Monty Python sketch. Or maybe you have a better idea.

And if it doesn't make you laugh, think of it this way: I could be, you know, talking about writing.

My Best Friend

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.

Jacqui Reads Her Children & Herself Books By & About People Different From Her, day 2

(explanation here)

Looking Like Me
by Walter Dean Myers*, illus. Christopher Myers

Jeremy looks in the mirror and sees all the things that make him himself: a brother, a son, a runner, a dancer...

Every once in a while I read a book to my kids and think, "Oh, I wish I had a classroom full of kids right now." If I were still teaching, I would snatch up Looking Like Me and we would read it alongside George Ella Lyon's fantastic poem "Where I'm From" (read it here). And we would write our own poems of what we see and where we're from, and we would study Christopher Myers collages and talk about how we are all collages, really, of all that makes us us, and then we'd make our own collage self-portraits and...

My kids enjoyed it. The verse is fun to read and there's a chance on each page to yell "Bam!" and give a fist-punch. But man, if I were a teacher, the fun we would have.

I know it's cheating to start with the Myers family. It's not like the genius of Walter Dean Myers is a hidden gem none of you know. But considering I decided to do this project exactly three minutes before I told you about it, I had to go with what I had around unexplored. And if you haven't read any Walter Dean Myers, go -- go now and buy Monster or Sunrise Over Fallujah, or any of them really, and settle in for some brilliance.

Jacqui Reads Herself & Her Children Books By & About People Different From Her

This is a long post. If you have a short attention span, skip to the big letters in the middle of the page that are the same as the title.

There's been a lot of kerfluffle this month about race and children's book covers and how some people think other people don't buy books whose covers have people of color on them.

This is interesting to me for many reasons, not the least of which is that my first book's cover features a giant brown face smiling out at you.

Which is how I wanted it. Richard Jackson and I openly discussed it in the editorial process. I was a public school teacher in New Haven and Chicago and Philadelphia. I never had a class of white students in my life. And I wanted the book to be for and about my students. He totally agreed. When Two of a Kind came around, I reminded S&S of that and they said, "Of course." It never occurred to me that I was driving customers away.

Now, I know it's different for picture books. And I don't mean to be flip. But I'm fascinated by this. White people won't buy a book because it has a person of color on the cover. Because it's not someone like them. When half the fun of reading is diving into someone else's life and either learning something or finding out it has a lot of the same struggles as your own. This makes no sense.

But yet. I look at the list of my top ten chapter books and am blinded and shamed by the whiteness. And I do think that it takes a little more effort to find great books that aren't in your normal book comfort zone, that publishers think are for a "limited market" or that get less buzz.

So. Here it is Black History Month. Let's celebrate. Let's everybody -- no matter how you self-classify -- pick up a book by or about someone different from you. You can define "different" however you want. We'll call it:

Jacqui Reads Her Children & Herself Books By & About People Different From Her*

Every day this month** I will EITHER read my children or myself a great book by someone different from me and tell you about it (or have Tink and Destructo review it), OR I will point you towards a great resource for finding such books for your own enjoyment. Sound like fun? I am very excited.

Who's in??? All you have to do is say, "I'm in!" and report back on anything you find that you like. And who has suggestions for me?

* I gotta get me an intern in charge of naming my features. This is getting ridiculous.
** And by every day, I mean every day that I can, with the caveat that I am trying to write two books at once as well. Which is probably why I took on this suddenly huge-seeming project.

Top Ten Chapter Books Ever

Remember when I agonized over Elizabeth Bird's call for our lists of the top ten picture books ever? Well, she's done me in good this time, that Fuse #8. Now she wants our top ten chapter books ever, ranked in order.

Picture books were easier. I barely remember reading picture books as a kid, with a few exceptions. But the chapter books? They were like old friends, read over and over. I kept saying, "Who can I leave off the list?"

I finally got my list in today. Here's what I sent:

1. Bridge to Terabithia – because it made me cry in fifth grade, and again in high school, and again and again and again. And because even at 38, I still dream of Terabithia. If this were a list of “best books ever, regardless of genre,” Bridge to Terabithia might still top my list.

2. The Westing Game

3. Charlotte’s Web – including the award for the best all time first line.

4. Are You There, God? It’s Me, Margaret

5. Harry Potter and the Sorceror’s Stone – Harry Potter is like Justin Timberlake: it’s so popular that I always want to think it’s junk, and then it constantly surprises me with how brilliant it is.

6. The Giver

7. From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler

8. The Black Cauldron

9. Harriet the Spy – because the kid emotions and interactions are perfect. Plus, who didn’t read this and then go around with a black composition notebook writing about people? Wait. I still do that. Huh.

10. Otherwise Known as Sheila the Great – because thirty-seven years later, Judy Blume still speaks straight to kids’ secret hearts

Your thoughts, wise visitors to Jacqui's Room? And you still have all day today and tomorrow to send your own list in to be tallied.

Her name was Lola...

... she was a Sinosauropteryx,
With colored feathers on her head
Stripes of black and white and red.

She would meringue
And feast on raw meat.
But while she watched the feathers grow
They were always just for show.

She'd stay up late at night,
Trying to take flight
While the T-Rexes and the raptors
All learned how to fight.

In the Cretaceous,
Cretaceous-era
The hottest thing til the Sahara
In the Cretaceous,
Cretaceous-era
Sharp claws and slashin' were the latest fashion
But feathers?
'head of her time.

Her name was Lola,
She was a Sinosauropteryx,
But that was 100 million years ago
Before the disco balls did glow.

Now it's a blingfest,
But not for Lola,
Still in her fossilized mud bed
Faded feathers on her head

She lays there all alone
And Idol never phones
In the age of rhinestones and sequins
She is left with bones.

In the Cretaceous,
Cretaceous-era
Sharp claws and slashin' were the latest fashion
But feathers?
Go take a look.
You're on the hook.
Write me this book.