Theodore Boone: Kid Lawyer, by John Grisham (Penguin Audio, 2010, read by Richard Thomas)
Both of Theodore Boone's parents are lawyers--his mother, a divorse attorney, his father, something to do with taxes, I think. His uncle has been disbarred but used to by an attorney, as well. Theodore is also a lawyer, of sorts. He sees kids pro bono and offers them info on matters such as home foreclosures and pets picked up by animal control.
When a murder trial is held in town, a friend comes to Theo with incriminating evidence that his cousin turned up. The problem is: the cousin is an illegal immigrant and afraid to tell the police what he knows. Can Theo keep the witness secret and still reveal the truth?
I don't know. Maybe he should ask his parents. Or his uncle. If he wants to ruin the book, that is!
In real life, yes. When in doubt, tell your parents. If your parents are idiots, find an adult who is not an idiot, and talk to them. Talk to two adults so that if one flakes out on you, you've covered your bases.
But in books...the kid should solve the problem on his own. I thought we'd established that in all the other kids books. Instead, Theo tells his uncle, who makes him tell his parents. This cuts through the tension a little too early in the book. However, Grisham is such a skilled storyteller that he can break this kidlit rule and still pull off an exciting and well-plotted mystery.
It is a courtroom thriller for kids, which I love. To Kill a Mockingbird is the only courtroom drama I can think of that, if not written for kids, has become a must-read for junior high or high school kids. (Must read because their teachers make them read it, but many of them end up loving the book.)
Loved the plot, loved the idea. However, there was something pretty big I didn't like about this book: Theo. He just didn't seem like a realistic 13 year old to me. His life and his comfort level in all situations seemed too perfect. Nobody has a perfect life, least of all a 13 year old.
Maybe your parents get along great and have good jobs that they love. Maybe you've come to terms with the fact that you are not athletic but are instead smart. Maybe classmates turn to you when they're in trouble. Okay, maybe Theo really does have a perfect life. What can you do? Don't hate him because he's perfect.
I guess I just like a little vulnerability in my characters. In the Echo Falls series, Ingrid is cute and good at soccer. She lives in a nice house with successful--and pretty nice--parents. But there is vulnerability. Her family is always under pressure to succeed. It makes them real.
Everybody has something. They don't make problem-free lives. It's like a jackalope. You can buy the postcard. But it doesn't really exist.
I had a nice life when I was 13. My parents loved each other. My brothers and I laughed together. I got good grades. I had a best friend. But I was still miserable. Because I was 13! Not to say every 13 year old has to be miserable, but I have a hard time believing they'd take everything as philosophically as Theo does.
I listened to the audio version and found myself responding aloud in certain parts.
Book: Theo's dad liked to give him suggestions for improving his golf game. Theo took them well.
Me: Of course he did.
Book: Theo never charged his classmates for his legal advice.
Me: Of course he didn't. Classic Theo.
To me, either Theo is too good to be true, or his life is too good to be true.
That's just a personal thing, though. Nancy Drew and The Hardy Boys are very popular, so lots of people must like invulnerable characters.
The verdict: More (less perfect) legal thrillers for kids, please.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Behind the Curtain
Behind the Curtain by Peter Abrahams (Laura Geringer Books, 2006.)
These Echo Falls mysteries are my Twilight Saga. My Girl with the Dragon Tatoo. My Harry Potter. When does the next one come out? When? When?
Granted this is the second of three. But I already read number three. Unlike Twilight, you really don't need to read these in order.
Ingrid suspects that her brother Ty is doing steroids to get strong for football. Through her sleuthing, she links the drug ring to her friend Stacy Rubino's rotten older brother Sean and the Kraken family, who are also rotten.
Meanwhile, her dad seems to have been replaced at work by Julia LeCaine. Julia becomes Ingrid's assistant soccer coach, and soon shows her colors as a bit of a psycho. Ingrid's dad is in hot water because Ingrid's grandfather refuses to sell his property to the Ferrand Group, which employs Ingrid's dad. As always Ingrid's math teacher is giving her a hard time.
When Ingrid is preparing to leave for a math fest that she's been forced into, she gets kidnapped. She escapes, but the problem is: nobody believes her! After all there was no ransom note, and Ingrid has no enemies. Or does she?
Ingrid assumes the kidnapping is related to steroids. The drug ring leaders must have sensed that she was onto them. Rather than telling her boyfriend Joey's father--town detective Officer Strade, lest her brother get popped, she investigates on her own.
The steroid case gets wrapped up in an exciting chase scene...then comes a surprise ending.
The verdict: Love this series. The plot strands are beautifully woven together, and it presents a realistic portrait of a junior high girl in Ingrid's situation (which is an upper-middle class family whose members are under a lot of pressure to achieve, achieve, achieve.) When will the next book come out? When? When? When?
These Echo Falls mysteries are my Twilight Saga. My Girl with the Dragon Tatoo. My Harry Potter. When does the next one come out? When? When?
Granted this is the second of three. But I already read number three. Unlike Twilight, you really don't need to read these in order.
Ingrid suspects that her brother Ty is doing steroids to get strong for football. Through her sleuthing, she links the drug ring to her friend Stacy Rubino's rotten older brother Sean and the Kraken family, who are also rotten.
Meanwhile, her dad seems to have been replaced at work by Julia LeCaine. Julia becomes Ingrid's assistant soccer coach, and soon shows her colors as a bit of a psycho. Ingrid's dad is in hot water because Ingrid's grandfather refuses to sell his property to the Ferrand Group, which employs Ingrid's dad. As always Ingrid's math teacher is giving her a hard time.
When Ingrid is preparing to leave for a math fest that she's been forced into, she gets kidnapped. She escapes, but the problem is: nobody believes her! After all there was no ransom note, and Ingrid has no enemies. Or does she?
Ingrid assumes the kidnapping is related to steroids. The drug ring leaders must have sensed that she was onto them. Rather than telling her boyfriend Joey's father--town detective Officer Strade, lest her brother get popped, she investigates on her own.
The steroid case gets wrapped up in an exciting chase scene...then comes a surprise ending.
The verdict: Love this series. The plot strands are beautifully woven together, and it presents a realistic portrait of a junior high girl in Ingrid's situation (which is an upper-middle class family whose members are under a lot of pressure to achieve, achieve, achieve.) When will the next book come out? When? When? When?
The Crooked Man
The Crooked Man, by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
A grumpy military man argues with his wife, and then winds up dead. The wife is in shock. Did she kill him.
Sherlock Holmes, seeing that the key with which they had locked themselves into their room, is gone, deduces that a third party was in the room. He discovers that the third party was the wife's long-lost love. He had been betrayed by her husband in battle. But he didn't kill the husband, either, he died of apoplexy--probably a heart attack or stroke in today's medical lingo.
Once again, I liked the retelling of the argument and the long lost love the best.
Verdict: I think that because Holmes' clues are so concrete, and mysteries so memorable, they're great for kids. Not that he needs anybody's endorsement. No, sir!
A grumpy military man argues with his wife, and then winds up dead. The wife is in shock. Did she kill him.
Sherlock Holmes, seeing that the key with which they had locked themselves into their room, is gone, deduces that a third party was in the room. He discovers that the third party was the wife's long-lost love. He had been betrayed by her husband in battle. But he didn't kill the husband, either, he died of apoplexy--probably a heart attack or stroke in today's medical lingo.
Once again, I liked the retelling of the argument and the long lost love the best.
Verdict: I think that because Holmes' clues are so concrete, and mysteries so memorable, they're great for kids. Not that he needs anybody's endorsement. No, sir!
The Red-Headed League
The Red-Headed League, by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
This was the Sherlock Holmes story I red as a kid--it was in one of the big reading anthologies--issued by my school--that were hit or miss. Like so many things, I realize now that I read it without reading it. Spacing out as usual. Too bad they didn't have Ritalin when I was a kid!
Beginning a review with a personal anecdote...always professional.
A small business owner visits Sherlock Holmes and tells him an odd story: At the urging of his assistant, he answered an ad in a paper for a red-headed man. He was chosen, and was paid well to sit all day and copy entries from the encyclopedia. Then one day, the job--and the Red-Headed League--are gone without a trace.
Holmes realizes the assistant and the Red-Headed League man were in cahoots. They wanted to get the business owner out of his shop so that they could tunnel through to the bank, which had recently gotten a valuable shipment.
I love when there is a story within a story in Sherlock Holmes. More so than when he and Watson are chasing people or uncovering clues. Not sure why. I guess because the back stories have that air of a story that is supposed to be a secret. The kind where you think, "I can't believe you're telling me this," but say, "Go on. Go on."
Needless to say, Holmes and Watson catch the bad guys and remark that the business owner isn't the sharpest tool in the tunnel that his assistant was digging.
The verdict: How did Sir Arthur Conan Doyle come up with this stuff? Brilliant!
This was the Sherlock Holmes story I red as a kid--it was in one of the big reading anthologies--issued by my school--that were hit or miss. Like so many things, I realize now that I read it without reading it. Spacing out as usual. Too bad they didn't have Ritalin when I was a kid!
Beginning a review with a personal anecdote...always professional.
A small business owner visits Sherlock Holmes and tells him an odd story: At the urging of his assistant, he answered an ad in a paper for a red-headed man. He was chosen, and was paid well to sit all day and copy entries from the encyclopedia. Then one day, the job--and the Red-Headed League--are gone without a trace.
Holmes realizes the assistant and the Red-Headed League man were in cahoots. They wanted to get the business owner out of his shop so that they could tunnel through to the bank, which had recently gotten a valuable shipment.
I love when there is a story within a story in Sherlock Holmes. More so than when he and Watson are chasing people or uncovering clues. Not sure why. I guess because the back stories have that air of a story that is supposed to be a secret. The kind where you think, "I can't believe you're telling me this," but say, "Go on. Go on."
Needless to say, Holmes and Watson catch the bad guys and remark that the business owner isn't the sharpest tool in the tunnel that his assistant was digging.
The verdict: How did Sir Arthur Conan Doyle come up with this stuff? Brilliant!
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
The Dollhouse Murders
The Dollhouse Murders by Betty Ren Wright (Holiday House, 1983.)
Confession: I almost returned this book to the library unread. The cover on my copy(which has since been updated) was so dated and downright ugly, I assumed the book would be dated, too. It wasn't.
Granted, there weren't cell phones, or even answering machines when the book was set. Other than that, the book has aged beautifully. Meaning it's an old school mystery that a kid could pick up right now and love. (Versus new school mysteries, which I think tend to have more bells and whistles--puzzles! word games! cool first person narrators! That's fine and all. But there's something to be said for the kind of mystery you can retell to your kids in the car over and over until they're under the impression that it happened to your own family.)
Plus, this is the rare ghost story/true mystery combination. Our heroine is actively trying to solve a mystery, and ghosts are helping her. I love this kind of story. (In some ghost story/mysteries, the ghost story is the pulled pork sandwich; the mystery is the side of cole slaw if not the optional pickles.)
Um...anyway, the plot: Amy Treloar is charged with babysitting her sister, Louann, who has brain damage, every day. She loves Louann, but the constant babysitting is weighing on her. After fighting with her mom, she rides her bike to her grandparent's big old home. They passed decades ago, but her Aunt Clare has moved into the home to clean it up before it goes on the market. Seeing that Amy needs a break, Clare asks her to stay and keep her company for a while.
In the attic, there is a dollhouse that Amy thinks is beautiful--it's an exact replica of the family home--complete with a grandmother and grandpa doll, and one of Clare as a teenager and Amy's father as a little boy. (The two siblings were raised by their grandparents. However, Clare really hates the dollhouse--it reminds her of the bad relationship she had with her grandparents, who in hindsight had been trying to protect her from a dangerous boyfriend.
To Amy's shock, the dollhouse pieces appear to move on their own when Amy isn't watching. As she learns that her grandparents were murdered in the home, she realizes the dolls are trying to help her solve the crime. Unfortunately, Clare, who is a bit of a hothead, thinks Amy is reenacting the murder out of curiosity.
Finally, Clare understands that the house is haunted--probably by her grandmother. With the help of the dolls, Amy, Clare and Louann (who in the end also has to stay with Clare) solve the murder...in a really cool way.
The Verdict: Old School Mystery at its best/plus great ghost story/mystery combo.
Confession: I almost returned this book to the library unread. The cover on my copy(which has since been updated) was so dated and downright ugly, I assumed the book would be dated, too. It wasn't.
Granted, there weren't cell phones, or even answering machines when the book was set. Other than that, the book has aged beautifully. Meaning it's an old school mystery that a kid could pick up right now and love. (Versus new school mysteries, which I think tend to have more bells and whistles--puzzles! word games! cool first person narrators! That's fine and all. But there's something to be said for the kind of mystery you can retell to your kids in the car over and over until they're under the impression that it happened to your own family.)
Plus, this is the rare ghost story/true mystery combination. Our heroine is actively trying to solve a mystery, and ghosts are helping her. I love this kind of story. (In some ghost story/mysteries, the ghost story is the pulled pork sandwich; the mystery is the side of cole slaw if not the optional pickles.)
Um...anyway, the plot: Amy Treloar is charged with babysitting her sister, Louann, who has brain damage, every day. She loves Louann, but the constant babysitting is weighing on her. After fighting with her mom, she rides her bike to her grandparent's big old home. They passed decades ago, but her Aunt Clare has moved into the home to clean it up before it goes on the market. Seeing that Amy needs a break, Clare asks her to stay and keep her company for a while.
In the attic, there is a dollhouse that Amy thinks is beautiful--it's an exact replica of the family home--complete with a grandmother and grandpa doll, and one of Clare as a teenager and Amy's father as a little boy. (The two siblings were raised by their grandparents. However, Clare really hates the dollhouse--it reminds her of the bad relationship she had with her grandparents, who in hindsight had been trying to protect her from a dangerous boyfriend.
To Amy's shock, the dollhouse pieces appear to move on their own when Amy isn't watching. As she learns that her grandparents were murdered in the home, she realizes the dolls are trying to help her solve the crime. Unfortunately, Clare, who is a bit of a hothead, thinks Amy is reenacting the murder out of curiosity.
Finally, Clare understands that the house is haunted--probably by her grandmother. With the help of the dolls, Amy, Clare and Louann (who in the end also has to stay with Clare) solve the murder...in a really cool way.
The Verdict: Old School Mystery at its best/plus great ghost story/mystery combo.
Regarding the Fountain
Regarding the Fountain: A Tale, in Letters, of Liars and Leaks, by Kate Klise, illustrated by M. Sarah Klise (Avon, 1998.)
When Principal Walter Russ writes to Florence Waters asking for a bid to replace the leaky school drinking fountain, he gets more than he bargained for. Waters doesn't simply design drinking fountains. She creates works of art. She also involves Mr. Sam N's fifth grade class in the design process.
Suggestions range from making the water come out in a loop-the-loop to including a wading pool to offering options besides water, such as rootbeer and chocolate shake. To the surprise of Principal Russ, Waters appears to be considering their suggestions--and she hasn't even given a bid yet.
Meanwhile something fishy is going on between the school board president, Sally Mander, who owns a nearby swimming pool, and Dee Eel, the owner of the town's water company. The town's creek dried up a few years back, limiting the swimming options to Mander's pool, and requiring people to buy their water from Eel. At the same time, the middle school was built.
As Waters works with the fifth grade class (all through letters) to find a water source for the fountain, they uncover the truth about both the leaky drinking fountain and the dried up creek.
I'm sure you can put two and two together here. But here's a spoiler alert in case not. Mander and Eel diverted the water from the creek to suit their own interests, and the Spring is now bubbling up under the school. For kids who don't give much thought to water works, the mystery might take more time to solve. Otherwise, it's like a Columbo mystery. We know what's up; we just don't know how it will be uncovered, which is fine.
The way that it's written, with the letters and emails and drawings, it's a lot of fun to read. Plus, it begs the question: Why do the things kids use everyday--paper towel dispensers, drinking fountains, floors--have to be so boring? Maybe they don't! After all, in the end, the fountain includes a walrus, tree slide, swiming pool, and ice skating rink!
The verdict: Nice visual mystery.
When Principal Walter Russ writes to Florence Waters asking for a bid to replace the leaky school drinking fountain, he gets more than he bargained for. Waters doesn't simply design drinking fountains. She creates works of art. She also involves Mr. Sam N's fifth grade class in the design process.
Suggestions range from making the water come out in a loop-the-loop to including a wading pool to offering options besides water, such as rootbeer and chocolate shake. To the surprise of Principal Russ, Waters appears to be considering their suggestions--and she hasn't even given a bid yet.
Meanwhile something fishy is going on between the school board president, Sally Mander, who owns a nearby swimming pool, and Dee Eel, the owner of the town's water company. The town's creek dried up a few years back, limiting the swimming options to Mander's pool, and requiring people to buy their water from Eel. At the same time, the middle school was built.
As Waters works with the fifth grade class (all through letters) to find a water source for the fountain, they uncover the truth about both the leaky drinking fountain and the dried up creek.
I'm sure you can put two and two together here. But here's a spoiler alert in case not. Mander and Eel diverted the water from the creek to suit their own interests, and the Spring is now bubbling up under the school. For kids who don't give much thought to water works, the mystery might take more time to solve. Otherwise, it's like a Columbo mystery. We know what's up; we just don't know how it will be uncovered, which is fine.
The way that it's written, with the letters and emails and drawings, it's a lot of fun to read. Plus, it begs the question: Why do the things kids use everyday--paper towel dispensers, drinking fountains, floors--have to be so boring? Maybe they don't! After all, in the end, the fountain includes a walrus, tree slide, swiming pool, and ice skating rink!
The verdict: Nice visual mystery.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Into the Dark
Into the Dark by Peter Abrahams (HarperCollins, 2008.)
In this, book three of the series, Ingrid is performing in the community theater's production of Hansel and Gretel. Meanwhile, her grandpa is arguing about his property with a guy from the Department of Conservation. (Grandpa is an environmentalist, but he believes the department to be meddlers.)
When Ingrid stumbles upon the conservationalist's dead body during a hike with her boyfriend Joey, all heck breaks loose. Grandpa is accused of the crime. He refuses to give himself an alibi, for reasons related to a doctor's appointment. Joey's father has instructed his son not to talk to Ingrid because of a conflict of interest (he is the detective working the case.) And soon, another bombshell is dropped on the family. Ingrid's dad is having an affair with Ingrid's friend's mom!
The story doesn't get all "poor Ingrid-y" though. Our heroine pushes forward and solves the crime on her own--without revealing grandpa's medical secret.
Love this series. Love. Was a little taken aback by the affair. I tried to think of the age at which I knew about affairs. I think it was fifth grade. That is probably the age this series is for (5th-8th.) (And kids are probably more socially savvy today than I was in the 80s.) It did make me think twice about loaning this book to my fourth grade niece. I would probably recommend the first two in the series instead. Not that I don't think she should read it (I would let my third grade son read it, if he could get over the female protagonist thing) but her not being my own child, well, you know.
As I read this, I realized how great Abrahams is at giving you a window on his characters. He never forces them on you. He lets you get to know them and make your own judgements. Ingrid's dad, for instance, has always been kind of a slick guy. Ingrid likes him. He's not my kind of person, probably because my dad is the opposite of him, but I do enjoy him as a character, and I can see why Ingrid adores him. He's always seemed like a standup guy, so the affair kind of floored me. Okay, so this is how real the characters are. Even one I don't particularly love, I feel utterly betrayed by him, for Ingrid's sake.
It reminds me of something my friend told me. He was a Hallmark illustrator. There, he had to draw characters who made an instant connection with the card buyer. They were posing for the camera, reaching out a hand to greet the buyer, asking the buyer to like them. When my friend switched to children's book illustrating, editors told him he had to learn to paint "candid shots" of his characters. They should be going about their business. The reader is looking in on them unbeknownst to them. Abrahams made me realize that writers have to do this, too. He does it just brilliantly.
Also, he briliantly draws one of the villains of this story in the likeness of the witch in Hansel and Gretel. How he does this without going over the top is beyond me. It should be over the top. I mean, the villain wears pointy boots, for Lord's sake. But it isn't. It feels real. Maybe this works because kids are open to the fact that some people are over-the-top evil. Grownups think bad guys need a psychiatrist. But kids know some people are just bad--by the book bad. That's how Ingrid sees this villain and it feels very real.
Interestingly, the part of Hansel and Gretel that Ingrid's mother remarks at the beginning always seemed unreal--that parents would leave their children to starve in the woods--is kind of explained here. It's not that Ingrid's parents want her to meet a witch in the woods. But Ingrid--because of her family falling apart--has to take matters into her own hands. Does that mean her parents are culpable for the danger that befalls her, or simply that we all have to do our part for our families--no matter our age? I think it's the latter. Incidentally, her dad comes to the rescue at the end--which I thought was an appropriate ending. After all, kids--no matter how smart or tough--need their parents--even when they're flawed.
In this, book three of the series, Ingrid is performing in the community theater's production of Hansel and Gretel. Meanwhile, her grandpa is arguing about his property with a guy from the Department of Conservation. (Grandpa is an environmentalist, but he believes the department to be meddlers.)
When Ingrid stumbles upon the conservationalist's dead body during a hike with her boyfriend Joey, all heck breaks loose. Grandpa is accused of the crime. He refuses to give himself an alibi, for reasons related to a doctor's appointment. Joey's father has instructed his son not to talk to Ingrid because of a conflict of interest (he is the detective working the case.) And soon, another bombshell is dropped on the family. Ingrid's dad is having an affair with Ingrid's friend's mom!
The story doesn't get all "poor Ingrid-y" though. Our heroine pushes forward and solves the crime on her own--without revealing grandpa's medical secret.
Love this series. Love. Was a little taken aback by the affair. I tried to think of the age at which I knew about affairs. I think it was fifth grade. That is probably the age this series is for (5th-8th.) (And kids are probably more socially savvy today than I was in the 80s.) It did make me think twice about loaning this book to my fourth grade niece. I would probably recommend the first two in the series instead. Not that I don't think she should read it (I would let my third grade son read it, if he could get over the female protagonist thing) but her not being my own child, well, you know.
As I read this, I realized how great Abrahams is at giving you a window on his characters. He never forces them on you. He lets you get to know them and make your own judgements. Ingrid's dad, for instance, has always been kind of a slick guy. Ingrid likes him. He's not my kind of person, probably because my dad is the opposite of him, but I do enjoy him as a character, and I can see why Ingrid adores him. He's always seemed like a standup guy, so the affair kind of floored me. Okay, so this is how real the characters are. Even one I don't particularly love, I feel utterly betrayed by him, for Ingrid's sake.
It reminds me of something my friend told me. He was a Hallmark illustrator. There, he had to draw characters who made an instant connection with the card buyer. They were posing for the camera, reaching out a hand to greet the buyer, asking the buyer to like them. When my friend switched to children's book illustrating, editors told him he had to learn to paint "candid shots" of his characters. They should be going about their business. The reader is looking in on them unbeknownst to them. Abrahams made me realize that writers have to do this, too. He does it just brilliantly.
Also, he briliantly draws one of the villains of this story in the likeness of the witch in Hansel and Gretel. How he does this without going over the top is beyond me. It should be over the top. I mean, the villain wears pointy boots, for Lord's sake. But it isn't. It feels real. Maybe this works because kids are open to the fact that some people are over-the-top evil. Grownups think bad guys need a psychiatrist. But kids know some people are just bad--by the book bad. That's how Ingrid sees this villain and it feels very real.
Interestingly, the part of Hansel and Gretel that Ingrid's mother remarks at the beginning always seemed unreal--that parents would leave their children to starve in the woods--is kind of explained here. It's not that Ingrid's parents want her to meet a witch in the woods. But Ingrid--because of her family falling apart--has to take matters into her own hands. Does that mean her parents are culpable for the danger that befalls her, or simply that we all have to do our part for our families--no matter our age? I think it's the latter. Incidentally, her dad comes to the rescue at the end--which I thought was an appropriate ending. After all, kids--no matter how smart or tough--need their parents--even when they're flawed.
From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler
From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler, by E.L. Konigsburg, (Atheneum, 1967.)
Claudia and her brother Jamie run away to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. While there a statue arrives titled "Angel." Is it by Michealangelo? Or is it a fake? The story is narrated by Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler, as a letter to her attorney (who she calls boring--all he ever talks about is his grandchildren.) "Angel" had belonged to her; she let it get away for a song.
Frankweiler is about as enjoyable narrator as you can ask for--pragmatic, judgemental, and wise (but not in a sappy way.) And Claudia is as serious as she is funny (to readers.) For settings, you can't beat two kids living in a museum--or the disorganized offices of Mrs. Frankweiler.
In the end, you find out who the attorney is in relation to the story (if you hadn't already guessed from the beginning.) The whole thing is just nicely done. It's obvious why it won the Newbury. The only thing I would have wished for, in my own little perfect angel statue world, is that we could have seen Mrs. Frankweiler spend more time with the kids. This whole episode is just priceless. But maybe extending it would have ruined it. Like telling a secret ruins it (as Claudia comes to understand.)
Claudia and her brother Jamie run away to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. While there a statue arrives titled "Angel." Is it by Michealangelo? Or is it a fake? The story is narrated by Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler, as a letter to her attorney (who she calls boring--all he ever talks about is his grandchildren.) "Angel" had belonged to her; she let it get away for a song.
Frankweiler is about as enjoyable narrator as you can ask for--pragmatic, judgemental, and wise (but not in a sappy way.) And Claudia is as serious as she is funny (to readers.) For settings, you can't beat two kids living in a museum--or the disorganized offices of Mrs. Frankweiler.
In the end, you find out who the attorney is in relation to the story (if you hadn't already guessed from the beginning.) The whole thing is just nicely done. It's obvious why it won the Newbury. The only thing I would have wished for, in my own little perfect angel statue world, is that we could have seen Mrs. Frankweiler spend more time with the kids. This whole episode is just priceless. But maybe extending it would have ruined it. Like telling a secret ruins it (as Claudia comes to understand.)
Eleven
Eleven, by Patricia Reilly Giff (Yearling, 2008.)
Eleven-year-old Sam finds a newspaper clipping in his attic indicating that, as a child, he had gone missing. Is his grandfather, who raises him, really his grandfather, or did he kidnap him?
As a struggling reader, Sam seeks help from a new girl at school to read the newspaper clipping. Together, they also make a castle for their class unit on the Middle Ages. As the project unfolds, Sam realizes that the castle is something from Sam's memory.
I loved the concept of this book, and some of the mysterious elements. Why is Sam's grandfather afraid of water? Why does Sam remember a castle? Why was Sam missing? Sam's grandfather is a nice man, so it is pretty clear from the beginning that he must have rescued Sam from something--but from what?
I also liked Sam's character. I liked his voice, and I felt like I got to know him. I didn't feel the same way about Caroline, who never felt real to me. I also felt like some of the grownup characters could have been cut from the story. I guess I got the feeling that Caroline and these "extra characters" were jumping out at me saying, "We're good. We'll help Sam." But I wanted to say, "Be cool! Stop trying so hard! Let me decide for myself how I feel about you." That's probably not a good description, but that's how I felt.
In the end, I never got wrapped up in Sam's world, even though I wanted to. However, I did like the mysterious elements of the book, and I think I would like other books by Giff, who is a two-time Newbery Honor-winning author.
Eleven-year-old Sam finds a newspaper clipping in his attic indicating that, as a child, he had gone missing. Is his grandfather, who raises him, really his grandfather, or did he kidnap him?
As a struggling reader, Sam seeks help from a new girl at school to read the newspaper clipping. Together, they also make a castle for their class unit on the Middle Ages. As the project unfolds, Sam realizes that the castle is something from Sam's memory.
I loved the concept of this book, and some of the mysterious elements. Why is Sam's grandfather afraid of water? Why does Sam remember a castle? Why was Sam missing? Sam's grandfather is a nice man, so it is pretty clear from the beginning that he must have rescued Sam from something--but from what?
I also liked Sam's character. I liked his voice, and I felt like I got to know him. I didn't feel the same way about Caroline, who never felt real to me. I also felt like some of the grownup characters could have been cut from the story. I guess I got the feeling that Caroline and these "extra characters" were jumping out at me saying, "We're good. We'll help Sam." But I wanted to say, "Be cool! Stop trying so hard! Let me decide for myself how I feel about you." That's probably not a good description, but that's how I felt.
In the end, I never got wrapped up in Sam's world, even though I wanted to. However, I did like the mysterious elements of the book, and I think I would like other books by Giff, who is a two-time Newbery Honor-winning author.
The Hidden Staircase
Nancy helps a friend's older relative, who believes her home is haunted. As I said in my previous review, I'm not a Nancy Drew person. I love bestsellers. I love cultural phenomenons. I love mysteries. I love girl detectives. I love girls who have everything going for them. I just don't like these books. Like my friend who wishes she liked tomatos so she could grow them in her garden and pick a ripe one off the vine and slice it and eat it, (I find it hilarious that she wants to do all this given the fact that she does not, in fact, like tomatos,) I wish I liked these books. I don't. Thus concludes the worst review ever written.
The Secret of the Old Clock
Nancy Drew sees a little girl nearly get hit by a car. Checking to see if she is okay, Nancy meets the girl's aunts. She soon learns that they have little money to care for the child. They had expected a relative to remember them in his will, but as it turns out, he left all his money to the relatives he lived with. Nancy knows this family, which is both snooty and tacky. All they talk about is money. Nancy gets the chance to talk to other relatives and friends of the man, who also expected him to leave them money.
Nancy, with the help of her lawyer father, gets to the bottom of why the man's will ended up so differently than his friend's expectations. As it turns out, there was a later will.
I remember reading a couple Nancy Drew books as a kid. I remember grownups being happy about me reading them. That made me happy. But the truth was, I had a hard time focusing on the books. I think, looking back, that it was because I didn't like them. Lots of people obviously do like them--they've sold millions of copies. They just aren't my style.
I love to fall in love with a character, and I just don't feel like I know Nancy well enough to feel anything about her. She seems nice enough, and she's certainly smart and capable--I like that in a character. She's popular and pretty--I like that, too. You rarely get an alpha character in a book, and it's refreshing. I guess it's just that I don't hear her voice. She's like the lady you see at school events and think you might become friends with, but she never talks turkey--never offers even one morsel about how she feels about things--not even a joke, so eventually, you just give up.
I do like how the book paints the scenes of the era: the aunts raising the little girl, two other sisters living in the country together. T.V. doesn't seem to be a factor in anyone's lives. There are daily family breakfasts and tea times and maids. That part is enjoyable. But finishing the book (and The Hidden Staircase) was a chore.
In contrast, I watched Nancy Drew the movie last night and loved it. The character was equally as smart, capable, and popular (in her home town at least.) But in this movie, in which she visits Hollywood with her father, those qualities make her vulnerable. Mean girls make fun of her old fashioned ways (the movie is set in the present; Nancy is a bit stuck in the past.)
The role is acted brilliantly by Emma Roberts, who makes you just ache for Nancy at times. I can watch sincerity get made fun of. I don't like it, but I know that sincere people are usually positive and can withstand bumps in the rode. But I will not watch earnest people take a hit. It is just too hard. They are earnest because they take things seriously, and that includes what people say to them. Nancy, in this movie, is earnest. Rest assured that she gets her come-uppance by showing what an amazing detective and all-round person she is.
So the movie worked for me while the books don't. Was it Nancy's vulnerability in the face of mean girls? The conflict (her dad asked her not to sleuth in Hollywood)? Her youth (she was younger in the movie than she was portrayed in the books)? The slightly tongue in cheek depiction of Nancy Drew? I think it was Nancy. In the movie she seemed like a real person. In the books, for me at least, she never did.
Nancy, with the help of her lawyer father, gets to the bottom of why the man's will ended up so differently than his friend's expectations. As it turns out, there was a later will.
I remember reading a couple Nancy Drew books as a kid. I remember grownups being happy about me reading them. That made me happy. But the truth was, I had a hard time focusing on the books. I think, looking back, that it was because I didn't like them. Lots of people obviously do like them--they've sold millions of copies. They just aren't my style.
I love to fall in love with a character, and I just don't feel like I know Nancy well enough to feel anything about her. She seems nice enough, and she's certainly smart and capable--I like that in a character. She's popular and pretty--I like that, too. You rarely get an alpha character in a book, and it's refreshing. I guess it's just that I don't hear her voice. She's like the lady you see at school events and think you might become friends with, but she never talks turkey--never offers even one morsel about how she feels about things--not even a joke, so eventually, you just give up.
I do like how the book paints the scenes of the era: the aunts raising the little girl, two other sisters living in the country together. T.V. doesn't seem to be a factor in anyone's lives. There are daily family breakfasts and tea times and maids. That part is enjoyable. But finishing the book (and The Hidden Staircase) was a chore.
In contrast, I watched Nancy Drew the movie last night and loved it. The character was equally as smart, capable, and popular (in her home town at least.) But in this movie, in which she visits Hollywood with her father, those qualities make her vulnerable. Mean girls make fun of her old fashioned ways (the movie is set in the present; Nancy is a bit stuck in the past.)
The role is acted brilliantly by Emma Roberts, who makes you just ache for Nancy at times. I can watch sincerity get made fun of. I don't like it, but I know that sincere people are usually positive and can withstand bumps in the rode. But I will not watch earnest people take a hit. It is just too hard. They are earnest because they take things seriously, and that includes what people say to them. Nancy, in this movie, is earnest. Rest assured that she gets her come-uppance by showing what an amazing detective and all-round person she is.
So the movie worked for me while the books don't. Was it Nancy's vulnerability in the face of mean girls? The conflict (her dad asked her not to sleuth in Hollywood)? Her youth (she was younger in the movie than she was portrayed in the books)? The slightly tongue in cheek depiction of Nancy Drew? I think it was Nancy. In the movie she seemed like a real person. In the books, for me at least, she never did.
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Down the Rabbit Hole
Down the Rabbit Hole by Peter Abrahams. (HarperCollins, 2005) First in the Echo Falls Mystery Series.
Ingrid gets a little turned around on her way to soccer practice and encounters Cracked-up Katie, a lady in town who has the reputation of being crazy. Katie calls her a cab, and Ingrid makes it to soccer practice. She doesn't tell her mother of her adventure, lest she get in trouble. That's fine until, the next day, a story in the local paper says that Katie was murdered. Besides feeling sad for Katie, Ingrid realizes she left her red puma cleats at Katie's house.
For various believable reasons, Ingrid doesn't come clean to her parents or anybody else about having seen Katie the day of the murder, but instead tries to solve the mystery on her own. In this way, she digs herself into deeper trouble...and deeper danger. She's aware of the trouble, but a little oblivious to the danger, which is in keeping with her character.
How would I describe Ingrid? She's funny. Smart. Wily. But a little--not airheaded, exactly. I'll say this: her brain needs to go on little excursions to find wherever it's going. She is one of my favorite characters ever. It goes Huck. Scout. Ingrid. Maybe Huck. Ingrid. Scout. No. Ingrid. Huck. Scout.
While Ingrid solves the mystery, she is involved with the community theater production of Alice in Wonderland. My experience with Alice is limited to the Disney movie and my eighth grade play, for which I can't even remember my role. But Abrahams makes it easy to draw connections to Alice because Ingrid, herself, draws these connections. (For instance, Cracked-up Katie's grandmother reminds Ingrid of the Queen of Hearts.) And even an Alice dummy like me can see that Katie is falling--no marching--deeper and deeper down the rabbit hole as she attempts to crack the case of Katie (who, like Ingrid, was an actress in the local theater.)
There are also references to Sherlock Holmes and old movies. Sherlock Holmes: again I'm a dummy, having only read The Red-Headed League. Now, old movies are something I'm more familiar with--or at least I was at Ingrid's age. The villain in this book reminded me of the delicious villains in the mysteries of that era. Meaning: I liked him. He was creepy in the smoothest possible way. The climax was also very movie-esque. My stomach was in knots. I kept reminding myself that they never kill the detective...and certainly not the child detective in a children's book! Did Nancy Drew die? No, she lived on to sport every hair cliche known to womankind.
The primary way the ending resembled a movie ending is that Ingrid followed the danger. The danger didn't follow her. In the other children's mysteries I've read, the children start out investigating, but typically, when they get to the point of no return, the villain sets the trap for them. That happens in this story, too, but then Abrahams pulls back and lets Ingrid head for the villain's lair. It was a "Good Lord! Don't go see what that noise is!" moment.
There is much more going on in this story: A mother and father trying to put together a real estate deal that involves selling off Ingrid's grandfather's land to the town rich people. (A story that dovetails into cracked-up Katie's murder.) A big brother who punches her. For shame. I know. I can't get through a review without saying something self-righteous. But seriously. For shame. And a grandfather who is teaching Ingrid to be stone cold. A skill that comes in handy at the end of this mystery.
The cover of this mystery has a quote from Stephen King: "My all-time favorite. Astonishing." I sort of ignored this because J.K. Rowling had a quote about the Cirque du Freak series, which I hated. The main character in that book inexplicably steals a spider and then almost lets his best friend die of a poisonous bite rather than coming clean. Ingrid keeps secrets, too, but she is trying to help the late Cracked-up Katie--not turn her back on her. And she barely knows the poor lady.
I don't know why I'm comparing the two, except to say that I don't expect great authors to also be great at picking great books. But in this case, I agree word-for-word with Stephen King. I, too, thought this was my all-time favorite. Astonishing.
After reading it, I logged onto my public library account, which is my rabbit hole. I checked out all Echo Falls mysteries, plus Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, plus several Sherlock Holmes Mysteries. But before doing any of this, my first order of business was to convince my 9-year-old son to read Down the Rabbit Hole.
I don't typically tell my son what to read. He likes to choose his own books, or talk things over with his librarian. I don't interject myself into sports conversations between him and his barber, and the same goes for book talk with him and his librarian. But I made an exception here. "Really," I said. "You have to read this. It's kind of scary, though." I think that hooked him. He wanted to start it last night. But I was like, "Um, I'm still reading it." And the hook pulled tighter.
He's starting it today. Can't wait to see what he thinks.
How the parents were cut out of the picture: Ingrid cuts school and sneaks out at night to solve the crime. (They live in a big house, so I guess her parents can't hear her.)
The verdict: Like experiencing an old movie, Alice in Wonderland, Sherlock Holmes, and the best character ever for the first time.
Ingrid gets a little turned around on her way to soccer practice and encounters Cracked-up Katie, a lady in town who has the reputation of being crazy. Katie calls her a cab, and Ingrid makes it to soccer practice. She doesn't tell her mother of her adventure, lest she get in trouble. That's fine until, the next day, a story in the local paper says that Katie was murdered. Besides feeling sad for Katie, Ingrid realizes she left her red puma cleats at Katie's house.
For various believable reasons, Ingrid doesn't come clean to her parents or anybody else about having seen Katie the day of the murder, but instead tries to solve the mystery on her own. In this way, she digs herself into deeper trouble...and deeper danger. She's aware of the trouble, but a little oblivious to the danger, which is in keeping with her character.
How would I describe Ingrid? She's funny. Smart. Wily. But a little--not airheaded, exactly. I'll say this: her brain needs to go on little excursions to find wherever it's going. She is one of my favorite characters ever. It goes Huck. Scout. Ingrid. Maybe Huck. Ingrid. Scout. No. Ingrid. Huck. Scout.
While Ingrid solves the mystery, she is involved with the community theater production of Alice in Wonderland. My experience with Alice is limited to the Disney movie and my eighth grade play, for which I can't even remember my role. But Abrahams makes it easy to draw connections to Alice because Ingrid, herself, draws these connections. (For instance, Cracked-up Katie's grandmother reminds Ingrid of the Queen of Hearts.) And even an Alice dummy like me can see that Katie is falling--no marching--deeper and deeper down the rabbit hole as she attempts to crack the case of Katie (who, like Ingrid, was an actress in the local theater.)
There are also references to Sherlock Holmes and old movies. Sherlock Holmes: again I'm a dummy, having only read The Red-Headed League. Now, old movies are something I'm more familiar with--or at least I was at Ingrid's age. The villain in this book reminded me of the delicious villains in the mysteries of that era. Meaning: I liked him. He was creepy in the smoothest possible way. The climax was also very movie-esque. My stomach was in knots. I kept reminding myself that they never kill the detective...and certainly not the child detective in a children's book! Did Nancy Drew die? No, she lived on to sport every hair cliche known to womankind.
The primary way the ending resembled a movie ending is that Ingrid followed the danger. The danger didn't follow her. In the other children's mysteries I've read, the children start out investigating, but typically, when they get to the point of no return, the villain sets the trap for them. That happens in this story, too, but then Abrahams pulls back and lets Ingrid head for the villain's lair. It was a "Good Lord! Don't go see what that noise is!" moment.
There is much more going on in this story: A mother and father trying to put together a real estate deal that involves selling off Ingrid's grandfather's land to the town rich people. (A story that dovetails into cracked-up Katie's murder.) A big brother who punches her. For shame. I know. I can't get through a review without saying something self-righteous. But seriously. For shame. And a grandfather who is teaching Ingrid to be stone cold. A skill that comes in handy at the end of this mystery.
The cover of this mystery has a quote from Stephen King: "My all-time favorite. Astonishing." I sort of ignored this because J.K. Rowling had a quote about the Cirque du Freak series, which I hated. The main character in that book inexplicably steals a spider and then almost lets his best friend die of a poisonous bite rather than coming clean. Ingrid keeps secrets, too, but she is trying to help the late Cracked-up Katie--not turn her back on her. And she barely knows the poor lady.
I don't know why I'm comparing the two, except to say that I don't expect great authors to also be great at picking great books. But in this case, I agree word-for-word with Stephen King. I, too, thought this was my all-time favorite. Astonishing.
After reading it, I logged onto my public library account, which is my rabbit hole. I checked out all Echo Falls mysteries, plus Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, plus several Sherlock Holmes Mysteries. But before doing any of this, my first order of business was to convince my 9-year-old son to read Down the Rabbit Hole.
I don't typically tell my son what to read. He likes to choose his own books, or talk things over with his librarian. I don't interject myself into sports conversations between him and his barber, and the same goes for book talk with him and his librarian. But I made an exception here. "Really," I said. "You have to read this. It's kind of scary, though." I think that hooked him. He wanted to start it last night. But I was like, "Um, I'm still reading it." And the hook pulled tighter.
He's starting it today. Can't wait to see what he thinks.
How the parents were cut out of the picture: Ingrid cuts school and sneaks out at night to solve the crime. (They live in a big house, so I guess her parents can't hear her.)
The verdict: Like experiencing an old movie, Alice in Wonderland, Sherlock Holmes, and the best character ever for the first time.
Flush
Flush by Carl Hiaassen (2005, Random House) audio performed by Michael Welch (also Random House.)
Noah's father Paine has just sunk the Coral Queen. He suspects the casino is dumping its sewage into the ocean, polluting the local family beach in the Florida Keys. He is right, but he has no proof. He is also in jail for his crime. Now it is up to Noah and his sister Abbey to prove what they--and the readers--already know. I'll call this a Columbo mystery, in honor of my childhood sweetheart, Peter Falk. (My best friend was Angela Lansbury.)
At first, Noah's father is calling the shots. He encourages Noah to pay off Lice Peeking, former mate on the Coral Queen, to testify against Dusty Muleman, owner of the Coral Queen. The plot thickens when Lice disappears, and his girlfriend Shelly suspects he was murdered.
Now, Abbey and Noah take matters into their own hands, with the help of Shelly, a nice lady (and with Pippi Longstocking-like strength) who for one reason or other dates drunk-ass Lice.
I'll take a moment here to say: between Lice and Shelly and Noah's dad, this is how you do "quirky" characters. I put quirky in quotes because I think people who use that term have it backwards. Most people are quirky. Normal people--or those who are able to act normal--are in the minority. A simple trip on the city bus will prove this point, but you can also look at your own family. It's no coincidence that people think their families are crazy. Everybody is crazy. We know our families best, and therefore have confirmation. I think people who write "quirky" characters well understand that there isn't a box for nutties and a box for normal people. It's the same box. It's just that quirky people live outside of it. Hiaasen nails "quirky." Only Noah comes across as completely normal, which makes sense. He's the narrator. It would make sense that he would present himself as the voice of sanity in a sea of craziness. Or maybe he really is normal. Or maybe he is a character in a book and I'm overthinking this.
Anyway, once Paine gets out of jail, he's forced to wear an ankle bracelet monitor and cannot talk about The Coral Queen to the media (which he did freely while in jail.) It's important to Noah and Abbey to show that their dad was right, thus proving to their mother and everybody else that he's not crazy.
Abbey tries to capture evidence on film of the Coral Queen dumping in the water, but the video turns out poorly. So Noah comes up with a plan of his own, which involves Shelly going undercover as a bartender on the Coral Queen. (I told you she's a nice lady.)
There is also a bully (Dusty's son Jasper) and a pirate (who seems to have escaped from a Hardy Boys book.) I think these characters probably resonate with kids, which is good because it is a children's book. The resolution takes a while to unfold, but is satisfactory and gives readers more time to spend with this family, who I came to love both for their imperfections and their ability to work as a team. (I love when kids are treated as part of the team--not as the mascots.)
The verdict: This story was a lot of fun. Well, as fun as a book about water pollution can be, especially at this juncture.
Noah's father Paine has just sunk the Coral Queen. He suspects the casino is dumping its sewage into the ocean, polluting the local family beach in the Florida Keys. He is right, but he has no proof. He is also in jail for his crime. Now it is up to Noah and his sister Abbey to prove what they--and the readers--already know. I'll call this a Columbo mystery, in honor of my childhood sweetheart, Peter Falk. (My best friend was Angela Lansbury.)
At first, Noah's father is calling the shots. He encourages Noah to pay off Lice Peeking, former mate on the Coral Queen, to testify against Dusty Muleman, owner of the Coral Queen. The plot thickens when Lice disappears, and his girlfriend Shelly suspects he was murdered.
Now, Abbey and Noah take matters into their own hands, with the help of Shelly, a nice lady (and with Pippi Longstocking-like strength) who for one reason or other dates drunk-ass Lice.
I'll take a moment here to say: between Lice and Shelly and Noah's dad, this is how you do "quirky" characters. I put quirky in quotes because I think people who use that term have it backwards. Most people are quirky. Normal people--or those who are able to act normal--are in the minority. A simple trip on the city bus will prove this point, but you can also look at your own family. It's no coincidence that people think their families are crazy. Everybody is crazy. We know our families best, and therefore have confirmation. I think people who write "quirky" characters well understand that there isn't a box for nutties and a box for normal people. It's the same box. It's just that quirky people live outside of it. Hiaasen nails "quirky." Only Noah comes across as completely normal, which makes sense. He's the narrator. It would make sense that he would present himself as the voice of sanity in a sea of craziness. Or maybe he really is normal. Or maybe he is a character in a book and I'm overthinking this.
Anyway, once Paine gets out of jail, he's forced to wear an ankle bracelet monitor and cannot talk about The Coral Queen to the media (which he did freely while in jail.) It's important to Noah and Abbey to show that their dad was right, thus proving to their mother and everybody else that he's not crazy.
Abbey tries to capture evidence on film of the Coral Queen dumping in the water, but the video turns out poorly. So Noah comes up with a plan of his own, which involves Shelly going undercover as a bartender on the Coral Queen. (I told you she's a nice lady.)
There is also a bully (Dusty's son Jasper) and a pirate (who seems to have escaped from a Hardy Boys book.) I think these characters probably resonate with kids, which is good because it is a children's book. The resolution takes a while to unfold, but is satisfactory and gives readers more time to spend with this family, who I came to love both for their imperfections and their ability to work as a team. (I love when kids are treated as part of the team--not as the mascots.)
The verdict: This story was a lot of fun. Well, as fun as a book about water pollution can be, especially at this juncture.
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Encyclopedia Brown, Boy Detective
Encyclopedia Brown, Boy Detective, by Donald J. Sobol (Puffin, 1963.)
I loved Encyclopedia Brown as a kid, and read whatever was available in my school or classroom library. My brother also had a copy, which I read multiple times.
In this, the first in the series, Encyclopedia helps his dad, the chief of police in Idaville, to solve a case involving "Natty Nat," a ne'er-do-well who supposedly held up The Men's Shop. One clue allows Encyclopedia to crack the case. Mr. Dillon said he only saw the front of Natty Nat. Yet he described the back of his coat, based on earlier reports of Nat. As it turns out, Mr. Dillon is stealing from his own store--and the co-owner. Recognizing his talent, Encyclopedia decides to start his own detective agency.
The remainder of the book is comprised of short mysteries that Encyclopedia solves, always based on one crucial clue. At the back of the book, that one clue is explained.
These stories are calisthenics for mystery readers' minds. There is always that one crucial clue--no matter how long or short the story. This series trains young readers to recognize details that whisper, "Something's amiss."
With the latest Encyclopedia Brown book, Super Sleuth, having come out in 2009, this series appears to be going strong. I'll have to read that title to see if the detective has raised his rates (which started at 25 cents per day) to account for inflation. Don't let those clients rob 'ya, Brown!
The verdict: Fun stuff for mystery readers in training.
I loved Encyclopedia Brown as a kid, and read whatever was available in my school or classroom library. My brother also had a copy, which I read multiple times.
In this, the first in the series, Encyclopedia helps his dad, the chief of police in Idaville, to solve a case involving "Natty Nat," a ne'er-do-well who supposedly held up The Men's Shop. One clue allows Encyclopedia to crack the case. Mr. Dillon said he only saw the front of Natty Nat. Yet he described the back of his coat, based on earlier reports of Nat. As it turns out, Mr. Dillon is stealing from his own store--and the co-owner. Recognizing his talent, Encyclopedia decides to start his own detective agency.
The remainder of the book is comprised of short mysteries that Encyclopedia solves, always based on one crucial clue. At the back of the book, that one clue is explained.
These stories are calisthenics for mystery readers' minds. There is always that one crucial clue--no matter how long or short the story. This series trains young readers to recognize details that whisper, "Something's amiss."
With the latest Encyclopedia Brown book, Super Sleuth, having come out in 2009, this series appears to be going strong. I'll have to read that title to see if the detective has raised his rates (which started at 25 cents per day) to account for inflation. Don't let those clients rob 'ya, Brown!
The verdict: Fun stuff for mystery readers in training.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Snatched
Snatched, by Pete Hautman and Mary Logue (Putnam, 2006,) first book in the The Bloodwater Mysteries series.
Set in Bloodwater, Minnesota, high school newspaper editor Roni Delicata and freshman science wiz Brian Bain investigate the disappearance of their schoolmate, Alicia. New to the school, Alicia was recently beat up, apparently by a stranger in the park. Roni wrote about this story for the Bloodwater Pump, hilariously concluding the article by encouraging classmates to shoot suspicious-looking people on sight. With Alicia's disappearance, Roni and Brian wonder if the stranger is to blame, or if it is her father, her stepfather, her boyfriend, her boyfriend's teammate, or Driftwood Doug, a town eccentric. The trail leads them to Wolf Spider Island, a freewheeling place for people who "just say no" to fitting in with society. The mystery is satisfying and ends with a nice twist.
This is a fast-paced, breezy mystery. I see this as a double-edged sword. On the one hand, it moves the story along at a nice clip, and readers get to see the various parts of Bloodwater. Being mired in the Midwest Desert (at least, this time of year it is,) I always enjoy reading stories set along lakes or oceans--or anything that would prompt one to buy a boat. (Unless I have to move some lumber--or play blackjack, I will never set foot on a boat in the Missouri River.) The problem with the fastness and breeziness is that I felt like I never got to know Roni or Brian--or Alicia.
In particular, I wanted to get to know Roni. I learned a little about her through the course of the book. For instance, she is a haphazard dieter (aren't we all?) and is unable to envision herself in a chosen outfit in public. (At one point, she peddles to Nun's Island wearing an orange helmet, too-small black leather jacket, and blue tights, which is a nice scene.) But I didn't know her like I've known characters in other mysteries.
I felt like instead of exploring Roni's or Brian's characters more, the authors would introduce new characters, which for me, didn't add to the story. For instance, on her way to Nun Island, Roni bums a ride from a nun. I was educated by nuns, and love them dearly, but I didn't understand the point of this scene, other than to get Roni from point A to point B. There was some humor here but not enough to justify shifting gears away from the main character.
Another character that felt unnecessary was butterfly fanatic Mr. Nestor. Roni and Brian track him down as the person who gave Alicia a ride prior her disappearance. They, too, get in the car with him, and he takes them to the spot where he and Alicia parted ways. At first I wondered why Alicia would get in a car with a stranger, but as the story went on, I saw that Roni also sometimes bummed rides with strangers, so assumed that was common in the town of Bloodwater. What I never could figure out was: Why would Mr. Nestor give Alicia a ride, seeing how Alicia is not a butterfly? It didn't seem in keeping with his butterfly-obsessed and socially awkward personality. I thought maybe this was a sticky detail: something in a mystery that doesn't set right with you, but that you explain away. Then later, you realize that the detail was a clue. That wasn't the case with Mr. Nestor. Instead, the episode seemed far-fetched to me, even for a mystery populated with eccentric characters. I wished that a character we already knew had given Alicia a ride.
Other characters, such as Alicia and her family, and Roni and her mother, were better drawn. But I never felt completely immersed in their world.
The verdict: I felt like I only skimmed the surface of Bloodwater, and never got to know the characters--or the town--in depth.
How the author got the parents out of the picture: Roni's mom and Brian's mom each have busy jobs. Brian's mom is a detective also investigating Alicia's disappearance, which I thought was a nice touch. She isn't actually out of the picture; Brian simply has to avoid her. His dad, meanwhile, is a scientist wrapped up in his studies.
Set in Bloodwater, Minnesota, high school newspaper editor Roni Delicata and freshman science wiz Brian Bain investigate the disappearance of their schoolmate, Alicia. New to the school, Alicia was recently beat up, apparently by a stranger in the park. Roni wrote about this story for the Bloodwater Pump, hilariously concluding the article by encouraging classmates to shoot suspicious-looking people on sight. With Alicia's disappearance, Roni and Brian wonder if the stranger is to blame, or if it is her father, her stepfather, her boyfriend, her boyfriend's teammate, or Driftwood Doug, a town eccentric. The trail leads them to Wolf Spider Island, a freewheeling place for people who "just say no" to fitting in with society. The mystery is satisfying and ends with a nice twist.
This is a fast-paced, breezy mystery. I see this as a double-edged sword. On the one hand, it moves the story along at a nice clip, and readers get to see the various parts of Bloodwater. Being mired in the Midwest Desert (at least, this time of year it is,) I always enjoy reading stories set along lakes or oceans--or anything that would prompt one to buy a boat. (Unless I have to move some lumber--or play blackjack, I will never set foot on a boat in the Missouri River.) The problem with the fastness and breeziness is that I felt like I never got to know Roni or Brian--or Alicia.
In particular, I wanted to get to know Roni. I learned a little about her through the course of the book. For instance, she is a haphazard dieter (aren't we all?) and is unable to envision herself in a chosen outfit in public. (At one point, she peddles to Nun's Island wearing an orange helmet, too-small black leather jacket, and blue tights, which is a nice scene.) But I didn't know her like I've known characters in other mysteries.
I felt like instead of exploring Roni's or Brian's characters more, the authors would introduce new characters, which for me, didn't add to the story. For instance, on her way to Nun Island, Roni bums a ride from a nun. I was educated by nuns, and love them dearly, but I didn't understand the point of this scene, other than to get Roni from point A to point B. There was some humor here but not enough to justify shifting gears away from the main character.
Another character that felt unnecessary was butterfly fanatic Mr. Nestor. Roni and Brian track him down as the person who gave Alicia a ride prior her disappearance. They, too, get in the car with him, and he takes them to the spot where he and Alicia parted ways. At first I wondered why Alicia would get in a car with a stranger, but as the story went on, I saw that Roni also sometimes bummed rides with strangers, so assumed that was common in the town of Bloodwater. What I never could figure out was: Why would Mr. Nestor give Alicia a ride, seeing how Alicia is not a butterfly? It didn't seem in keeping with his butterfly-obsessed and socially awkward personality. I thought maybe this was a sticky detail: something in a mystery that doesn't set right with you, but that you explain away. Then later, you realize that the detail was a clue. That wasn't the case with Mr. Nestor. Instead, the episode seemed far-fetched to me, even for a mystery populated with eccentric characters. I wished that a character we already knew had given Alicia a ride.
Other characters, such as Alicia and her family, and Roni and her mother, were better drawn. But I never felt completely immersed in their world.
The verdict: I felt like I only skimmed the surface of Bloodwater, and never got to know the characters--or the town--in depth.
How the author got the parents out of the picture: Roni's mom and Brian's mom each have busy jobs. Brian's mom is a detective also investigating Alicia's disappearance, which I thought was a nice touch. She isn't actually out of the picture; Brian simply has to avoid her. His dad, meanwhile, is a scientist wrapped up in his studies.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Twisted Summer
Twisted Summer by Willo Davis Roberts, (Atheneum, 1996.) This is a YA mystery, but I I would have liked it best in fifth or sixth grade. (I liked it a lot as a 34 year old, but kept wishing I could hand it to my fifth grade self, who would have loooooved it.) It is probably YA because a young person has been killed.
Cici's extended family doesn't talk much, but they meet each summer at Crystal Lake. That's where her grandmother and stepgrandfather, the Judge, live.
Cici's family missed last summer at the lake. Now, she is looking forward to seeing her cousins and the other lake kids--especially Jack, the Judge's cook's son. Cici is a big kid now, and hopefully Jack will see it that way.
When they arrive, Cici is shocked to learn that last summer a teenager named Zoe was murdered. Jack's brother Brody is now serving time in prison for the crime! The cook, Lina, has quit because the Judge wouldn't stand up for her son.
Cici doesn't believe Brody killed Zoe, a flirt who annoyed everybody. (Not that that's grounds for killing someone, which Cici acknowledges.) She begins to investigate by casually talking about the crime to families staying at the lake. She makes a list of possible suspects--including her own family. For one reason or other (I guess because she's always swimming and can't take the list with her,) she leaves it lying around the house, putting her own life at risk.
This is a real page turner and Cici's relationship with Jack--who is a sweetheart--is intriguing. He likes her...but still sees her as a little kid in some ways. (He's a couple years older.)
It was also interesting for me to see what constitutes as a YA versus a juvenile mystery. In all the juvenile mysteries I've read so far, the murder victim was elderly--that may be a coincidence, but the victim certainly wasn't a young person. Zoe was not only young, but there was also some talk of whether she had flirted with someone who turned out to be a killer. That's pretty grownup subject matter. Other than that, this book seemed young. There was no swearing, and Cici was a young 15--especially in Jack's eyes.
The verdict: page turner with a loveable heroine.
How the parents got out of the picture: Kids have free rein at Crystal Lake, and eventually, Cici's parents go home, leaving her under the care of her relatives.
Cici's extended family doesn't talk much, but they meet each summer at Crystal Lake. That's where her grandmother and stepgrandfather, the Judge, live.
Cici's family missed last summer at the lake. Now, she is looking forward to seeing her cousins and the other lake kids--especially Jack, the Judge's cook's son. Cici is a big kid now, and hopefully Jack will see it that way.
When they arrive, Cici is shocked to learn that last summer a teenager named Zoe was murdered. Jack's brother Brody is now serving time in prison for the crime! The cook, Lina, has quit because the Judge wouldn't stand up for her son.
Cici doesn't believe Brody killed Zoe, a flirt who annoyed everybody. (Not that that's grounds for killing someone, which Cici acknowledges.) She begins to investigate by casually talking about the crime to families staying at the lake. She makes a list of possible suspects--including her own family. For one reason or other (I guess because she's always swimming and can't take the list with her,) she leaves it lying around the house, putting her own life at risk.
This is a real page turner and Cici's relationship with Jack--who is a sweetheart--is intriguing. He likes her...but still sees her as a little kid in some ways. (He's a couple years older.)
It was also interesting for me to see what constitutes as a YA versus a juvenile mystery. In all the juvenile mysteries I've read so far, the murder victim was elderly--that may be a coincidence, but the victim certainly wasn't a young person. Zoe was not only young, but there was also some talk of whether she had flirted with someone who turned out to be a killer. That's pretty grownup subject matter. Other than that, this book seemed young. There was no swearing, and Cici was a young 15--especially in Jack's eyes.
The verdict: page turner with a loveable heroine.
How the parents got out of the picture: Kids have free rein at Crystal Lake, and eventually, Cici's parents go home, leaving her under the care of her relatives.
Wait Till Helen Comes
Wait Till Helen Comes by Mary Downing Hahn (Sandpiper, 2008, reissue.) This is actually a ghost story rather than a mystery, but I read so many good reviews I had to dive in. First off, I would have loved this story as a kid. In fact, I vaguely remember the plot, as if my friend read it and told me the whole story.
Molly and Michael move with their mother and stepfather to an old church (remodeled to be a home) in the country. Their mother neglected to tell them that their backyard is a graveyard. Apparently, she thought it was no big deal. She seemed like a nice enough lady, but this oversight made me think she was a total dingbat. I mean, I'm a grown woman and if I was made to sleep anywhere near a graveyard, I would want some advance warning.
Well, as it turns out Molly and Michael have bigger fish to fry: their younger stepsister Heather. She is so bratty and manipulative, that Molly goes so far as to compare her to The Bad Seed. If you'll recall, the toe headed little girl in that movie is a stone cold killah. To make matters worse, Heather and Molly and Michael stumble upon a grave of a girl with the same initials as Heather. Doing some research at their local library, they learn that the dead girl is Helen, who died, along with her mother and stepfather, long ago in a fire. (Heather's mother also died in a fire. Coincidence? I think not. Actually, it is a coincidence.)
Heather begins warning Molly and Michael to "Wait till Helen comes. Then you'll be sorry." Note to Heather: this is the sort of thing that gets you labeled as a psycho by your new family. You might be wondering: what will they be sorry for? Who knows? Heather is always tattling on them to her daddy for things they didn't even do. I guess they'll be sorry for not really liking Heather.
According to town lore, Helen is a very real ghost. But only Molly believes this. Her pragmatic brother Michael, and her mother and stepfather do not. Guess who's right? Hint, this is a real ghost story--not a Scooby Do number--where the ghost turns out to be Old Man Higgins or whatever. You're right. Helen is real. But just how psycho is she--and is Heather really a bad seed? You'll have to see for yourself.
The verdict: This was an enjoyable ghost story that was creepy but kid-friendly.
How the author got the parents out of the picture: Molly and Michael are basically in charge of Heather while their mother and stepfather do artwork. This is realistic because they live in the country and have room to roam and explore. Needless to say Heather is a bit of a handful due to being a psychopath, but the parents don't know that.
Molly and Michael move with their mother and stepfather to an old church (remodeled to be a home) in the country. Their mother neglected to tell them that their backyard is a graveyard. Apparently, she thought it was no big deal. She seemed like a nice enough lady, but this oversight made me think she was a total dingbat. I mean, I'm a grown woman and if I was made to sleep anywhere near a graveyard, I would want some advance warning.
Well, as it turns out Molly and Michael have bigger fish to fry: their younger stepsister Heather. She is so bratty and manipulative, that Molly goes so far as to compare her to The Bad Seed. If you'll recall, the toe headed little girl in that movie is a stone cold killah. To make matters worse, Heather and Molly and Michael stumble upon a grave of a girl with the same initials as Heather. Doing some research at their local library, they learn that the dead girl is Helen, who died, along with her mother and stepfather, long ago in a fire. (Heather's mother also died in a fire. Coincidence? I think not. Actually, it is a coincidence.)
Heather begins warning Molly and Michael to "Wait till Helen comes. Then you'll be sorry." Note to Heather: this is the sort of thing that gets you labeled as a psycho by your new family. You might be wondering: what will they be sorry for? Who knows? Heather is always tattling on them to her daddy for things they didn't even do. I guess they'll be sorry for not really liking Heather.
According to town lore, Helen is a very real ghost. But only Molly believes this. Her pragmatic brother Michael, and her mother and stepfather do not. Guess who's right? Hint, this is a real ghost story--not a Scooby Do number--where the ghost turns out to be Old Man Higgins or whatever. You're right. Helen is real. But just how psycho is she--and is Heather really a bad seed? You'll have to see for yourself.
The verdict: This was an enjoyable ghost story that was creepy but kid-friendly.
How the author got the parents out of the picture: Molly and Michael are basically in charge of Heather while their mother and stepfather do artwork. This is realistic because they live in the country and have room to roam and explore. Needless to say Heather is a bit of a handful due to being a psychopath, but the parents don't know that.
Friday, June 11, 2010
The Absolutely True Story
The Absolutely True Story...How I Visited Yellowstone Park with the Terrible Rupes, by Willo Davis Roberts (Atheneum, 1994.)
Lewis and Alison are 11-year-old twins. Their new next door neighbors, the Rupes, seem like a nice family. Mrs. Rupe is a friendly lady. And Mr. Rupe is a good bowler. They have three cute kids, Harry, Ariadne and Billy. What's not to like? So Lewis and Alison's parents agree to let their twins go with the Rupes on a motorhome vacation to Yellowstone Park.
Now, the Rupes aren't really terrible. They're just terribly lax, and the kids, as a result, are terribly unruly. If this story were told once the kids reached high school, we might have a darker story. As it is, it's a funny story. Lewis' observations of the Rupes are hilarious. These kids are allowed to eat candybars and chips all day, steal cats from the motor park, throw stuff into geolical wonders at Yellowstone, etc. (Actually, that part is kind of scary.)
The Rupes invited Lewis as a friend for Harry, who is the same age. They invited Alison as a built in (and unpaid) babysitter for the younger Ariadne and Billy. This way, Mrs. Rupe can take it easy, which is her forte. (Her idea of multi-tasking is smoking and sitting in a lawnchair.) Mr. Rupe, meanwhile, has his hands full trying to operate their deluxe motor home, which they rented. Apparently, driving a motorhome is similar to driving an 18-wheeler. It's not something you teach yourself. Well, Mr. Rupe does. But Lewis has to coach him from the backseat based on what his grandpa taught him.
The motorhome is what gets them in trouble. Somebody has hidden money in there. Billy finds it and hides it someplace else (in the motor home.) Now the money hiders are following the family, waiting for them to leave the motor home somewhere not swarming with tourists (kinda hard in yellowstone.) Eventually, the bad guys find the motor home deserted, or so they think. The kids are inside, but the parents are out with friends.
The mystery is a not a hard case to crack, but it is exciting. And the location of the money had me fooled. (I thought it was in the the toilet.)
The characters are what drive this story: Mr. and Mrs. Rupe are really funny as clueless parents, and their kids are real characters. They are not portrayed as brats--more like unruly kids in a funny way. Of course, I kept thinking of what was going to happen once these kids were in high school, but that's just a personal worry. (They won't go to high school. It's a book!)
I thought this was an interesting way to get the parents out of the picture: cluelessness/lax parenting, without crossing over into the parents being neglectful. Somehow, they don't come across as bad people--or bad parents, even. Maybe because all is set right in the end. At the same time, the kids were free to solve the mystery on their own.
The Verdict: A funny story with a mystery embedded in it.
Lewis and Alison are 11-year-old twins. Their new next door neighbors, the Rupes, seem like a nice family. Mrs. Rupe is a friendly lady. And Mr. Rupe is a good bowler. They have three cute kids, Harry, Ariadne and Billy. What's not to like? So Lewis and Alison's parents agree to let their twins go with the Rupes on a motorhome vacation to Yellowstone Park.
Now, the Rupes aren't really terrible. They're just terribly lax, and the kids, as a result, are terribly unruly. If this story were told once the kids reached high school, we might have a darker story. As it is, it's a funny story. Lewis' observations of the Rupes are hilarious. These kids are allowed to eat candybars and chips all day, steal cats from the motor park, throw stuff into geolical wonders at Yellowstone, etc. (Actually, that part is kind of scary.)
The Rupes invited Lewis as a friend for Harry, who is the same age. They invited Alison as a built in (and unpaid) babysitter for the younger Ariadne and Billy. This way, Mrs. Rupe can take it easy, which is her forte. (Her idea of multi-tasking is smoking and sitting in a lawnchair.) Mr. Rupe, meanwhile, has his hands full trying to operate their deluxe motor home, which they rented. Apparently, driving a motorhome is similar to driving an 18-wheeler. It's not something you teach yourself. Well, Mr. Rupe does. But Lewis has to coach him from the backseat based on what his grandpa taught him.
The motorhome is what gets them in trouble. Somebody has hidden money in there. Billy finds it and hides it someplace else (in the motor home.) Now the money hiders are following the family, waiting for them to leave the motor home somewhere not swarming with tourists (kinda hard in yellowstone.) Eventually, the bad guys find the motor home deserted, or so they think. The kids are inside, but the parents are out with friends.
The mystery is a not a hard case to crack, but it is exciting. And the location of the money had me fooled. (I thought it was in the the toilet.)
The characters are what drive this story: Mr. and Mrs. Rupe are really funny as clueless parents, and their kids are real characters. They are not portrayed as brats--more like unruly kids in a funny way. Of course, I kept thinking of what was going to happen once these kids were in high school, but that's just a personal worry. (They won't go to high school. It's a book!)
I thought this was an interesting way to get the parents out of the picture: cluelessness/lax parenting, without crossing over into the parents being neglectful. Somehow, they don't come across as bad people--or bad parents, even. Maybe because all is set right in the end. At the same time, the kids were free to solve the mystery on their own.
The Verdict: A funny story with a mystery embedded in it.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
The Night Tourist
The Night Tourist, by Katherine Marsh, (Hyperion, 2007,) another Edgar Award Winner, in my mind is more of a ghost story than a mystery. I guess it falls under the family secret mystery category. In spite of suffering genre confusion (I like when things fall into neat little categories) I loved this book.
It's about Jack, a boy who is hit by a car and sent by his father to visit a mysterious psychologist in New York (because Jack is acting strangely.) While in New York, he tours the subway system, where he meets Uri. Uri takes him into the underworld of Greek mythology. Only this underworld is home to deceased New Yorkers--not Greeks. Jack is a classics scholar, so this all makes sense to him. I'm not, but it still made sense to me. In fact, I enjoyed learning about the underworld anew. It made me hope the Greeks were right.
By day, the dead are crammed into the underworld. But by night, they are free to roam the city. They can attend--or even write and perform plays, hang out at bars with poets, go sledding, or visit the library. There is a hilarious scene in which Jack watches a death orientation video in the library. It is a cheeseball training program in which cab drivers, police officers and others declare, "I'm a New York ghost!" Uri is not as enthusiastic about her ghostly status. She is hell-bent on coming back to life.
Some ghosts work or cultivate ghostly friendships, but many roam their old "haunts"-- wherever they hung out in life. See, they are only in the underworld because they have unresolved issues. Once those are solved, they go to something like heaven. Naturally, their "issues" lurk in the shadows of their old stomping grounds.
Now, Jack's mother is dead. So he decides to find her in the underworld. In fact, he believes this is his destiny and this is why he got a "golden ticket" into the underworld--a rare priviledge. But when he and Uri visit the records bureau, they see an asterick by her name--meaning she's done something taboo in the underworld. This is the family secret they are trying to solve. Meanwhile, Jack learns that Uri has a secret of her own. It's a tragic one, but it doesn't bring the whole world down with it, unlike some grownup books I've read. Together, Uri and Jack track down his mother and try to bring Uri back to the living world.
The verdict...a beautifully imagined family secret mystery populated with likeable main characters, quirky bit characters, a few laugh-out-loud funny parts, and a few heartbreaking ones, too.
It's about Jack, a boy who is hit by a car and sent by his father to visit a mysterious psychologist in New York (because Jack is acting strangely.) While in New York, he tours the subway system, where he meets Uri. Uri takes him into the underworld of Greek mythology. Only this underworld is home to deceased New Yorkers--not Greeks. Jack is a classics scholar, so this all makes sense to him. I'm not, but it still made sense to me. In fact, I enjoyed learning about the underworld anew. It made me hope the Greeks were right.
By day, the dead are crammed into the underworld. But by night, they are free to roam the city. They can attend--or even write and perform plays, hang out at bars with poets, go sledding, or visit the library. There is a hilarious scene in which Jack watches a death orientation video in the library. It is a cheeseball training program in which cab drivers, police officers and others declare, "I'm a New York ghost!" Uri is not as enthusiastic about her ghostly status. She is hell-bent on coming back to life.
Some ghosts work or cultivate ghostly friendships, but many roam their old "haunts"-- wherever they hung out in life. See, they are only in the underworld because they have unresolved issues. Once those are solved, they go to something like heaven. Naturally, their "issues" lurk in the shadows of their old stomping grounds.
Now, Jack's mother is dead. So he decides to find her in the underworld. In fact, he believes this is his destiny and this is why he got a "golden ticket" into the underworld--a rare priviledge. But when he and Uri visit the records bureau, they see an asterick by her name--meaning she's done something taboo in the underworld. This is the family secret they are trying to solve. Meanwhile, Jack learns that Uri has a secret of her own. It's a tragic one, but it doesn't bring the whole world down with it, unlike some grownup books I've read. Together, Uri and Jack track down his mother and try to bring Uri back to the living world.
The verdict...a beautifully imagined family secret mystery populated with likeable main characters, quirky bit characters, a few laugh-out-loud funny parts, and a few heartbreaking ones, too.
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Closed for the Season
Closed for the Season, by Mary Downing Hahn (Clarion, 2009), begins where many juvenile stories seem to: with the main character moving--reluctantly--into a new house. In this case, it is the narrator, Logan. In spite of the stereotypical beginning, I kept an open mind. After all, this book won the 2010 Edgar Award for Juvenile Mysteries.
It didn't disappoint.
On page three, next door neighbor Arthur Jenkins stops by--a character that is an absolute breath of fresh air. Though the story isn't told from his point of view, he is the main character--in a Gatsby sort of way. Only instead of being an enigma like Gatsby, Arthur is a dork.
That, combined with an utter sense of self-confidence, make Arthur an edearing character. I wanted to cry for him when he got picked on, beat up, and dumped, but I couldn't. His dignity and optimism made feeling sorry for him seem disrespectful.
As soon as he walks through the door, Arthur tells Logan that the home's previous owner--Myrtle Donaldson--was murdered in the basement of the home. And we're off...
Before her death, Myrtle was accused of stealing money from Magic Forest, the amusement park she worked at. Having lost boatloads of cash, the park closed, and the land was sold to real estate developer/town big shot Mr. DiSilvio. Kudzu made swift work of the fairytale-style park, and it is now falling apart.
Logan and Arthur set out to find the murderer--and the real thief. (It wasn't Myrtle, bless her heart.) Danny, the late Myrtle's grandson, plays a minor role--that of beating up Arthur--until later in the story, when he moves in with Arthur and his grandmother. Hahn did a great job of portraying Danny as an angry young man without laying the sympathy on too thick. Yes, Danny has an abusive father, and yes, Danny, in turn, makes everybody else miserable. But he is portrayed as a character capable of making choices--not as a victim.
The other characters are mainly grownups: first, there are Logans' parents. His father is an art teacher. His mother is a--oh, how would I describe her? Well, you could call her up right now and say her son needs to take piano lessons or else he'll grow up to be a blithering idiot, and she would hang up and frantically dial a piano teacher. She'll take parenting advice from anybody, including:
-Her real estate agent Rhoda.
-And Nina, a newspaper reporter from another city.
Both advise Logan's mother to forbid her son from seeing Arthur. Rhoda does this because it is important to her that children--whether her own or other people's--be popular (don't you just love people like this?) Nina's reasons are more mysterious.
Then you have Logan's grandmother--who raises him, or, I should say, provides pop to him when he comes home from doing whatever the heck he wants, and subjects him to her clown collection. Logan, fortunately, uses his independence for good--namely, solving this crime.
Then there is the late Myrtle's daughter Violet, who has married the town wife-beater, Silas (Danny's mother and father.) Minor characters include Mr. DiSilvio, who is married to Rhoda, and Silas' cousins, who range from good-hearted aspiring criminals to full-fledged punkasses.
I'm lingering on the characters in this book because they're an absolute treat. You can't make up the details Hahn has lovingly--or frustratingly--bestowed on them--or maybe you can. I just have a sneaking suspicion that Arthur is based on a real little boy. At one point, when being bullied, he defends himself with a British phrase--in a British accent--which makes his attacker think he is all the more wierd. It just seemed so real.
The setting wasn't as magical as I thought it would be, given that some of the story takes place in an old timey overgrown amusement park. But I did get a sense of the town--how it was laid out. It was modern--having a Walmart and a highway running through it, which made it realistic. The best setting description, for me, was of Rhoda's McMansion, where, after Logan is forbidden from hanging out with Arthur, he is forced to have a playdate with Rhoda's arrogant son Anthony and his boring friends. (Note to Logan's mom: Logan is too old for playdates. Let him play with Arthur, you great big snob.)
The plot gets more exciting as time goes on, culminating in a chase through the Magic Forest, and a hilarious run-in with protesters who want to save the park (and are dressed as Fairytale characters.) By the end, this was a real page turner. But the characters--especially the unforgettable Arthur--and his friendship with Logan were what made this story a winner in my book.
It didn't disappoint.
On page three, next door neighbor Arthur Jenkins stops by--a character that is an absolute breath of fresh air. Though the story isn't told from his point of view, he is the main character--in a Gatsby sort of way. Only instead of being an enigma like Gatsby, Arthur is a dork.
That, combined with an utter sense of self-confidence, make Arthur an edearing character. I wanted to cry for him when he got picked on, beat up, and dumped, but I couldn't. His dignity and optimism made feeling sorry for him seem disrespectful.
As soon as he walks through the door, Arthur tells Logan that the home's previous owner--Myrtle Donaldson--was murdered in the basement of the home. And we're off...
Before her death, Myrtle was accused of stealing money from Magic Forest, the amusement park she worked at. Having lost boatloads of cash, the park closed, and the land was sold to real estate developer/town big shot Mr. DiSilvio. Kudzu made swift work of the fairytale-style park, and it is now falling apart.
Logan and Arthur set out to find the murderer--and the real thief. (It wasn't Myrtle, bless her heart.) Danny, the late Myrtle's grandson, plays a minor role--that of beating up Arthur--until later in the story, when he moves in with Arthur and his grandmother. Hahn did a great job of portraying Danny as an angry young man without laying the sympathy on too thick. Yes, Danny has an abusive father, and yes, Danny, in turn, makes everybody else miserable. But he is portrayed as a character capable of making choices--not as a victim.
The other characters are mainly grownups: first, there are Logans' parents. His father is an art teacher. His mother is a--oh, how would I describe her? Well, you could call her up right now and say her son needs to take piano lessons or else he'll grow up to be a blithering idiot, and she would hang up and frantically dial a piano teacher. She'll take parenting advice from anybody, including:
-Her real estate agent Rhoda.
-And Nina, a newspaper reporter from another city.
Both advise Logan's mother to forbid her son from seeing Arthur. Rhoda does this because it is important to her that children--whether her own or other people's--be popular (don't you just love people like this?) Nina's reasons are more mysterious.
Then you have Logan's grandmother--who raises him, or, I should say, provides pop to him when he comes home from doing whatever the heck he wants, and subjects him to her clown collection. Logan, fortunately, uses his independence for good--namely, solving this crime.
Then there is the late Myrtle's daughter Violet, who has married the town wife-beater, Silas (Danny's mother and father.) Minor characters include Mr. DiSilvio, who is married to Rhoda, and Silas' cousins, who range from good-hearted aspiring criminals to full-fledged punkasses.
I'm lingering on the characters in this book because they're an absolute treat. You can't make up the details Hahn has lovingly--or frustratingly--bestowed on them--or maybe you can. I just have a sneaking suspicion that Arthur is based on a real little boy. At one point, when being bullied, he defends himself with a British phrase--in a British accent--which makes his attacker think he is all the more wierd. It just seemed so real.
The setting wasn't as magical as I thought it would be, given that some of the story takes place in an old timey overgrown amusement park. But I did get a sense of the town--how it was laid out. It was modern--having a Walmart and a highway running through it, which made it realistic. The best setting description, for me, was of Rhoda's McMansion, where, after Logan is forbidden from hanging out with Arthur, he is forced to have a playdate with Rhoda's arrogant son Anthony and his boring friends. (Note to Logan's mom: Logan is too old for playdates. Let him play with Arthur, you great big snob.)
The plot gets more exciting as time goes on, culminating in a chase through the Magic Forest, and a hilarious run-in with protesters who want to save the park (and are dressed as Fairytale characters.) By the end, this was a real page turner. But the characters--especially the unforgettable Arthur--and his friendship with Logan were what made this story a winner in my book.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
The Westing Game
The Westing Game, by Ellen Raskin (Dutton, 1978.)
For writers, The Westing Game is murder. It is simply the best mystery, best juvenile novel, best anything ever written. I cried at the end. How often can you say that about a mystery? I cried because it was touching. I should have cried because I could never write like that. It made me feel like a five year old who still sticks her bottom out when she plies watching a ballerina piroette in toe shoes on a ballerino's head. (If your mom forwarded you the Chinese Swan Lake video, you know what I'm talking about.)
Raskin amazingly juggles 16 characters who are playing the Westing Game, and they all have their own touching and at times hilarious personalities. They first come together to live in an apartment building overlooking the old Westing House. (A salesperson has given them a great deal.) Next, they are summoned for the reading of Samuel Westing's will. There, they learn that the millionaire's life was taken from him. Westing has divided them into pairs in order to solve the mystery--presumably of who killed him.
Living and working together to solve crimes, the apartment tenants become a tightknit community--albeit a competitive one, as whoever solves the mystery will win the Westing inheritance. Interestingly, the pairs seem perfect for each other. Flora Baumbach, who lost her daughter, is paired with Turtle, for instance, whose mother favors her older sister.
All the characters are given clues, and it's hilarious to see how they use them. Turtle, for instance, is convinced she is supposed to invest in the stock market based on the clues.
As the game nears an end, readers are hit with one twist after another. I thought I had the whole thing solved, but was duped!
More than a mystery, this book is a character study--of 16 people! I like that it showed both their flaws (Mr. Hoo is a grump, for instance, and Grace Wexler, a social climber) but also their good points (Mr. Hoo is a brilliant inventor and proud father and Grace Wexler ends up being a shrewd business woman--and an introspective person.) In the end, they bring out the best in each other, which may have been Mr. Westing's intention.
In the 25th anniversary edition introduction, editor Ann Durell described Raskin, who passed away in 1984 at age 56, as a brilliant woman, not only talented in writing, but also art and the stock market. She wrote The Westing Game as she went along, not plotting the clues and twists before hand. Amazing.
The Verdict: Book Heaven
For writers, The Westing Game is murder. It is simply the best mystery, best juvenile novel, best anything ever written. I cried at the end. How often can you say that about a mystery? I cried because it was touching. I should have cried because I could never write like that. It made me feel like a five year old who still sticks her bottom out when she plies watching a ballerina piroette in toe shoes on a ballerino's head. (If your mom forwarded you the Chinese Swan Lake video, you know what I'm talking about.)
Raskin amazingly juggles 16 characters who are playing the Westing Game, and they all have their own touching and at times hilarious personalities. They first come together to live in an apartment building overlooking the old Westing House. (A salesperson has given them a great deal.) Next, they are summoned for the reading of Samuel Westing's will. There, they learn that the millionaire's life was taken from him. Westing has divided them into pairs in order to solve the mystery--presumably of who killed him.
Living and working together to solve crimes, the apartment tenants become a tightknit community--albeit a competitive one, as whoever solves the mystery will win the Westing inheritance. Interestingly, the pairs seem perfect for each other. Flora Baumbach, who lost her daughter, is paired with Turtle, for instance, whose mother favors her older sister.
All the characters are given clues, and it's hilarious to see how they use them. Turtle, for instance, is convinced she is supposed to invest in the stock market based on the clues.
As the game nears an end, readers are hit with one twist after another. I thought I had the whole thing solved, but was duped!
More than a mystery, this book is a character study--of 16 people! I like that it showed both their flaws (Mr. Hoo is a grump, for instance, and Grace Wexler, a social climber) but also their good points (Mr. Hoo is a brilliant inventor and proud father and Grace Wexler ends up being a shrewd business woman--and an introspective person.) In the end, they bring out the best in each other, which may have been Mr. Westing's intention.
In the 25th anniversary edition introduction, editor Ann Durell described Raskin, who passed away in 1984 at age 56, as a brilliant woman, not only talented in writing, but also art and the stock market. She wrote The Westing Game as she went along, not plotting the clues and twists before hand. Amazing.
The Verdict: Book Heaven
The Red Blazer Girls
Next up: The Red Blazer Girls: The Ring of Rocamadour, by Michael D. Beil (Knopf, 2009.) Sophie, Margaret, and Rebecca are seventh graders at St. Veronica's, a Catholic girls school where they are forced to wear red blazers (hence the name of the series.)
I, too, attended a Catholic girls school and would like to take this moment to personally thank the Sisters of St. Joseph for not making us wear blazers (though we did wear plaid skirts.)
Sophie is in class when she sees a ghostly woman in the window of the adjoining church. She and her friends investigate, and find Ms. Harriman, who is not a ghost but does need help. She has just found a 20-year-old note written to her daughter. It is from the girl's grandfather, who has since died. The note introduces a series of riddles that will lead the girl to her birthday present. The "girl" is now in her thirties and is estranged from her mother. Ms. Harriman asks Sophie and her friends to solve the riddles and find the present, which is likely a valuable treasure since the grandfather was an archeologist.
As the girls solve riddles that involve literature, theater, and math, they are helped by a teacher (who claims his personal hero is the severe Charles Dickens schoolmaster Thomas Gradgrind, but is in fact a nice guy.) However, for the most part, these academic overachievers solve the riddles on their own.
I liked that this mystery is largely set at the school and church, and their nearby hangout Perkatory--a coffee shop that plays on the old Catholic belief in a place between heaven and hell, where incidently, my cousin believes my late aunt resides. (Purgatory. Not the coffee shop.) I mean, I'm sure a lot of us are going to purgatory, if there is such a thing. But it was the first time I'd heard someone be like: She's happy now. She's in purgatory.
Anyway, this allows, the girls to solve the mystery independently. When the girls' parents are introduced, they are loving, normal adults, that come from somewhat economically diverse backgrounds. Rebecca's mother, for instance, has lost her job as a nurse, which means Rebecca might not get to attend private school next year. I appreciated this portrayal of Catholic school. From my experience, Catholic schools aren't schools for rich kids, they're schools where some parents often pay their last penny to ensure a good education for their kids.
I also enjoyed the plot twist in which somebody else is after the treasure. Is it Ms. Harriman's ex-husband, or somebody else? Honestly, I thought Ms. Harriman was using the girls to steal the treasure all along. She just seemed too kooky to be for real. But as it turned out, she was really just kooky.
Sadly, nobody got murdered in this book. I am trying to review murder mysteries. Happily, this was such a good mystery that it didn't even need a murder. The riddles and word play for some reason reminded me of The Westing Game, perhaps because I am obsessed with that book and everything reminds me of it. It also reminded me of my own Granddad, who wrote quizzes and riddles for me to solve, though, admittedly, they never led to treasure...or did they? Maybe I just never solved the clues. Either way, I did treasure them. They were way over my head, and I appreciated my Granddad thinking I was smarter than I really was. (Where is a friend like Margaret--the smartest of the Red Blazer girls--when you need her?)
One last word, I mentioned these girls are smart. They really drove home that line from What a Wonderful World--"They'll learn much more than I'll ever know." In that way, it differed from The Westing Game, in which characters illustrated the more spacey/distracted problem solving abilities that I am more familiar with.
The verdict: This book is as smart and adorable as its three main characters.
I, too, attended a Catholic girls school and would like to take this moment to personally thank the Sisters of St. Joseph for not making us wear blazers (though we did wear plaid skirts.)
Sophie is in class when she sees a ghostly woman in the window of the adjoining church. She and her friends investigate, and find Ms. Harriman, who is not a ghost but does need help. She has just found a 20-year-old note written to her daughter. It is from the girl's grandfather, who has since died. The note introduces a series of riddles that will lead the girl to her birthday present. The "girl" is now in her thirties and is estranged from her mother. Ms. Harriman asks Sophie and her friends to solve the riddles and find the present, which is likely a valuable treasure since the grandfather was an archeologist.
As the girls solve riddles that involve literature, theater, and math, they are helped by a teacher (who claims his personal hero is the severe Charles Dickens schoolmaster Thomas Gradgrind, but is in fact a nice guy.) However, for the most part, these academic overachievers solve the riddles on their own.
I liked that this mystery is largely set at the school and church, and their nearby hangout Perkatory--a coffee shop that plays on the old Catholic belief in a place between heaven and hell, where incidently, my cousin believes my late aunt resides. (Purgatory. Not the coffee shop.) I mean, I'm sure a lot of us are going to purgatory, if there is such a thing. But it was the first time I'd heard someone be like: She's happy now. She's in purgatory.
Anyway, this allows, the girls to solve the mystery independently. When the girls' parents are introduced, they are loving, normal adults, that come from somewhat economically diverse backgrounds. Rebecca's mother, for instance, has lost her job as a nurse, which means Rebecca might not get to attend private school next year. I appreciated this portrayal of Catholic school. From my experience, Catholic schools aren't schools for rich kids, they're schools where some parents often pay their last penny to ensure a good education for their kids.
I also enjoyed the plot twist in which somebody else is after the treasure. Is it Ms. Harriman's ex-husband, or somebody else? Honestly, I thought Ms. Harriman was using the girls to steal the treasure all along. She just seemed too kooky to be for real. But as it turned out, she was really just kooky.
Sadly, nobody got murdered in this book. I am trying to review murder mysteries. Happily, this was such a good mystery that it didn't even need a murder. The riddles and word play for some reason reminded me of The Westing Game, perhaps because I am obsessed with that book and everything reminds me of it. It also reminded me of my own Granddad, who wrote quizzes and riddles for me to solve, though, admittedly, they never led to treasure...or did they? Maybe I just never solved the clues. Either way, I did treasure them. They were way over my head, and I appreciated my Granddad thinking I was smarter than I really was. (Where is a friend like Margaret--the smartest of the Red Blazer girls--when you need her?)
One last word, I mentioned these girls are smart. They really drove home that line from What a Wonderful World--"They'll learn much more than I'll ever know." In that way, it differed from The Westing Game, in which characters illustrated the more spacey/distracted problem solving abilities that I am more familiar with.
The verdict: This book is as smart and adorable as its three main characters.
Friday, May 21, 2010
100 Mysteries for Kids
I'm a children's book writer. The other day, my son's friend said to me, "Mrs. Heos, you should write a series. That's where the real money is."
By series, he meant a mystery series for kids. He said that he and my son should be the main characters, and, for one reason or other, it would be their job to solve murders.
Good idea, I thought. But for now, I'm up to my ears in nonfiction.
Turns out, that boy is very tenacious.
Everytime he sees me, he asks, "Have you started writing your series yet?"
"Not yet," I say. See, I like what I already write. Nonfiction is a lot of fun.
Then, the other day, he said, "Mrs. Heos, if you wrote that series, you guys could move into my neighborhood."
Ah, this is what we call motive. If I write a series, we can afford the friend's more expensive neighborhood, making it easier for him to play with my son. Well, that's kind of sweet.
So I decided to try it. Only before I can write a mystery series, I have to write a mystery, and before I can do that, I have to read 100 mysteries for kids (or mysteries4kids.blogspot.com). I don't know what it is about this formula, but it works. If you want to write something, first you have to read 100 of that thing. Unless you're a superstar genious writer, which I'm not. I'm a regular writer. (Meaning that I sometimes write brochures.)
This blog will be about the 100 mysteries for kids that I read. They will be classic or contemporary, Edgar Award winning or not, series or standalone. Mainly, they will be books written for a third-eighth grade audience. They will primarily be murder mysteries. Reason being: I love murder mysteries. In my favorite story, somebody solves a murder simply by overhearing something like "Eight miles is a long way to walk to the rain." My hero, as a kid, was Angela Lansbury. My dream husband was Columbo.
Plus, when I asked my son and his friend if the kids in my "series" should solve kid mysteries or murder mysteries, "murders" got the resounding vote.
I don't know if reading 100 mysteries for kids will make me a mystery writer. Writing a novel is daunting and having it twist and turn like mysteries do, yikes! But I love mysteries and writing, so I think it is worth a try.
Without further chit-chat, the first book I read was The View from the Cherry Tree, by Willo Davis Roberts (published in 1975.)
Rob Mallory escapes to a perch in a cherry tree whenever he is bored or tired of doing chores. (His mother is busy preparing for his sister Darcy's wedding, so there is lots to do.) Meanwhile, he tries to avoid his grumpy neighbor, Mrs. Calloway, who is angry that his cat trespasses on her lawn. One night, she goes so far as beating Rob with a broom when he chases the cat onto her porch.
The next day, Rob watches from the cherry tree as a man pushes Mrs. Calloway out the window. It is a short fall, but Mrs. Calloway is wearing binoculars around her neck(to spy on her neighbors, naturally.) She dies of strangulation. Essentially, she has been murdered.
Rob tries to tell his family, but everyone thinks he is putting them on. (Rob is a bit of a fibber.) More importantly, they have a wedding to attend to. Sorry, Robbie, no time for murders! We must marry off Darcy at all costs!
After witnessing the murder, Rob suspects the killer is after him. I don't know why he would think that. It's not like a potted plant nearly falls on his head or that he is shot at in his own backyard. Oh, wait. Both happen. But his family still thinks it's an accident. (Again, if somebody shot at my son, all holy hell would break lose. And by that, I do not mean I would call my husband to make sure he'd picked up the champaigne for the rehearsal dinner.)
As a grownup, the constant refusal of Robbie's parents to listen to him felt a little unrealistic. I mean, if my son told me he'd witnessed a murder, I might put down my dress alterations for five seconds and hear him out. However, from a kid's perspective, it makes sense. Grownups always seem preoccupied, especially when there is a big event at hand. Plus, with this wedding, everything that can go wrong does, mostly due to a cast of relatives that have never heard of RSVP-ing for a wedding (but seem nice other than that.)
Once I got past my grownup skepticism, Rob's parents' unwillingness to listen took on a nightmarish aura. They seem like good parents. The fact that they don't pick up on his impending doom hit me hard. It's that realization you get as a kid: It may seem like you're taken care of, but at any time, you can be all alone like anybody else. Not to get depressing, but we're talking murder, people.
Rob's situation comes to a head when he is chased by the murderer--an exciting scene! Obviously, in the end, his parents feel terrible that they'd ignored his pleas. (Though the wedding goes off without a hitch, so all's well that ends well, I guess.)
I loved this mystery. I liked that Rob was alone while being in the midst of family and friends gathered for the wedding. And I liked Rob, loved him actually...eventually.
Prior to the murder, I thought he was a bit of a Debbie Downer. It's a wedding, Rob, not a funeral! But after the murder, his pessimistic (realistic?) perspective on life made me feel for him so much. When one of the visiting cousins (a toddler) destroys something in Rob's room and he gets mad (which brings the wrath of his aunt and mother) I just wanted to cry for him. When nobody would listen to him, on the hand, he had a quiet resolve that I admired. He knew he might die that weekend. He would simply do his best to lead people to the murderer (even from the grave.)
The Verdict: Classic children's murder mystery, and a great way to start 100 Mysteries4kids!
By series, he meant a mystery series for kids. He said that he and my son should be the main characters, and, for one reason or other, it would be their job to solve murders.
Good idea, I thought. But for now, I'm up to my ears in nonfiction.
Turns out, that boy is very tenacious.
Everytime he sees me, he asks, "Have you started writing your series yet?"
"Not yet," I say. See, I like what I already write. Nonfiction is a lot of fun.
Then, the other day, he said, "Mrs. Heos, if you wrote that series, you guys could move into my neighborhood."
Ah, this is what we call motive. If I write a series, we can afford the friend's more expensive neighborhood, making it easier for him to play with my son. Well, that's kind of sweet.
So I decided to try it. Only before I can write a mystery series, I have to write a mystery, and before I can do that, I have to read 100 mysteries for kids (or mysteries4kids.blogspot.com). I don't know what it is about this formula, but it works. If you want to write something, first you have to read 100 of that thing. Unless you're a superstar genious writer, which I'm not. I'm a regular writer. (Meaning that I sometimes write brochures.)
This blog will be about the 100 mysteries for kids that I read. They will be classic or contemporary, Edgar Award winning or not, series or standalone. Mainly, they will be books written for a third-eighth grade audience. They will primarily be murder mysteries. Reason being: I love murder mysteries. In my favorite story, somebody solves a murder simply by overhearing something like "Eight miles is a long way to walk to the rain." My hero, as a kid, was Angela Lansbury. My dream husband was Columbo.
Plus, when I asked my son and his friend if the kids in my "series" should solve kid mysteries or murder mysteries, "murders" got the resounding vote.
I don't know if reading 100 mysteries for kids will make me a mystery writer. Writing a novel is daunting and having it twist and turn like mysteries do, yikes! But I love mysteries and writing, so I think it is worth a try.
Without further chit-chat, the first book I read was The View from the Cherry Tree, by Willo Davis Roberts (published in 1975.)
Rob Mallory escapes to a perch in a cherry tree whenever he is bored or tired of doing chores. (His mother is busy preparing for his sister Darcy's wedding, so there is lots to do.) Meanwhile, he tries to avoid his grumpy neighbor, Mrs. Calloway, who is angry that his cat trespasses on her lawn. One night, she goes so far as beating Rob with a broom when he chases the cat onto her porch.
The next day, Rob watches from the cherry tree as a man pushes Mrs. Calloway out the window. It is a short fall, but Mrs. Calloway is wearing binoculars around her neck(to spy on her neighbors, naturally.) She dies of strangulation. Essentially, she has been murdered.
Rob tries to tell his family, but everyone thinks he is putting them on. (Rob is a bit of a fibber.) More importantly, they have a wedding to attend to. Sorry, Robbie, no time for murders! We must marry off Darcy at all costs!
After witnessing the murder, Rob suspects the killer is after him. I don't know why he would think that. It's not like a potted plant nearly falls on his head or that he is shot at in his own backyard. Oh, wait. Both happen. But his family still thinks it's an accident. (Again, if somebody shot at my son, all holy hell would break lose. And by that, I do not mean I would call my husband to make sure he'd picked up the champaigne for the rehearsal dinner.)
As a grownup, the constant refusal of Robbie's parents to listen to him felt a little unrealistic. I mean, if my son told me he'd witnessed a murder, I might put down my dress alterations for five seconds and hear him out. However, from a kid's perspective, it makes sense. Grownups always seem preoccupied, especially when there is a big event at hand. Plus, with this wedding, everything that can go wrong does, mostly due to a cast of relatives that have never heard of RSVP-ing for a wedding (but seem nice other than that.)
Once I got past my grownup skepticism, Rob's parents' unwillingness to listen took on a nightmarish aura. They seem like good parents. The fact that they don't pick up on his impending doom hit me hard. It's that realization you get as a kid: It may seem like you're taken care of, but at any time, you can be all alone like anybody else. Not to get depressing, but we're talking murder, people.
Rob's situation comes to a head when he is chased by the murderer--an exciting scene! Obviously, in the end, his parents feel terrible that they'd ignored his pleas. (Though the wedding goes off without a hitch, so all's well that ends well, I guess.)
I loved this mystery. I liked that Rob was alone while being in the midst of family and friends gathered for the wedding. And I liked Rob, loved him actually...eventually.
Prior to the murder, I thought he was a bit of a Debbie Downer. It's a wedding, Rob, not a funeral! But after the murder, his pessimistic (realistic?) perspective on life made me feel for him so much. When one of the visiting cousins (a toddler) destroys something in Rob's room and he gets mad (which brings the wrath of his aunt and mother) I just wanted to cry for him. When nobody would listen to him, on the hand, he had a quiet resolve that I admired. He knew he might die that weekend. He would simply do his best to lead people to the murderer (even from the grave.)
The Verdict: Classic children's murder mystery, and a great way to start 100 Mysteries4kids!
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