Book Review: First Love by Gay Head (1963)

One of our favorite weekend activities in the Fitzgerald household is to visit used bookstores. On a recent trip to one particular store, which is housed in an old library building and run by the Friends of the Library, I was browsing the shelves in the children’s section, when a spine jumped out at me. The book was a compact little paperback, First Love by Gay Head. I felt certain that I had seen this book before and had even been searching for it, and I eagerly flipped to the table of contents, hoping to recognize whatever it was that had initially grabbed my interest. Nothing looked familiar, but seeing that Maureen Daly and Kurt Vonnegut Jr. had contributed stories, and knowing that the book was only 50 cents, I decided to take it home anyway. I have now finished reading all fourteen stories in the collection, and I still have no idea why I originally wanted it, but I’m glad I didn’t put it back on the shelf. The cover advertises “warm and glowing stories,” and indeed, this is what it contains.

Here are my descriptions of the fourteen stories:

• Stardust by Virginia Laughlin is about a girl named Wendy who lives next door to two young men. Tod, the younger of the brothers, has very obvious feelings for Wendy, but she is lukewarm about him, and much more interested in Brian, whom she has idealized and worshipped from afar for a long time. It is only when it becomes clear that Brian is not available that Wendy comes back down to earth and begins to consider Tod’s merits. 
• A Girl Called Charlie by William Kehoe introduces a quiet, thoughtful teen girl named Charlotte who has been invited on a date by the highly desirable Ridge Evans. Though her parents keep reminding her not to get too excited, as he may not be as interested as she is, Charlie can’t help but be intrigued. When Ridge makes it clear that he considers it boring and close-minded to “go steady” in high school, Charlie must decide whether she can put aside the urge to date exclusively in order to continue seeing him.
• In Blue Valentine by Mary Gibbons, Angelo is sixteen years old, the oldest in his family, and the only boy. Because his mother died when he was ten, he has spent a lot of time filling the role of surrogate parent to his sisters, making him privy to the wants and needs of women in a way that is uncommon among the boys he knows. When it comes time to give his girlfriend, Ethel-Irene, a gift for Valentine’s Day, he chooses a sophisticated lacy nightgown, knowing the fine stitching will appeal to Ethel-Irene, but not realizing how such an adult gift will look to her parents. 
• Jenny Lee of The Walnut Trees by Virginia Akin is at an age where adults are beginning to question her about her college plans. When her teacher, Mr. Applegarth asks her what she has in mind, she makes up an elaborate story about marrying a (non-existent) boyfriend, all because she is secretly in love with Mr. Applegarth and wants him to be jealous. Alas, it is Jenny who feels jealous - and disappointed - when it turns out that Mr. Applegarth is engaged to be married. 
• While traveling by train in Once Upon a Pullman by Florence Jane Soman, nineteen-year-old William Fowler introduces himself to Emmy Smith, then engages her in conversation, occasionally using lines from the novel he is reading, which stars an overly confident air force hero. When they get off the train, William loses sight of Emmy, only to discover that she lost him on purpose in order to find out whether he was truly as pompous as he sounded.
• EPICAC by Kurt Vonnegut, Jr., is from his book, Welcome to the Monkey House. EPICAC is a computer who has near-human intelligence. The narrator of the story works with EPICAC alongside a woman named Pat, whom he wishes to marry. When he enlists EPICAC’s help wriinig love poems to impress Pat, the narrator inadvertently causes EPICAC to fall in love with her as well, thereby causing the computer to self-destruct. EPICAC appears again in Vonnegut’s 1952 novel, Player Piano.
• Sixteen by Maureen Daly and Eighteen by Charlie Brodie tell two sides of the same story. The female lead of Daly’s story is affronted when she has a romantic time skating with an older boy who promises to call, only never to hear from him again. From the boy’s point of view, however, this time skating  was just a diversion while he dealt with some more complicated feelings about his girlfriend, Betty. 
• Prelude by Lucile Vaughan Payne tells of Nancy Hollister, a popular girl with an interest in music appreciation who has a real chance of being elected prom queen, and the identity crisis which ensues when she finds herself attracted to Stephen Karoladis, the boy who cleans the music department at her school. 
• In Tomboy by Gertrude Schweitzer, Frances, called Frankie, can’t see the need for romance when she could just as soon be out at the pond catching frogs with her friend Skeet. When she is forced to attend her cousin’s sixteenth birthday party, however, Frankie gets all dressed up and ends up meeting a boy. When she takes her new beau along with her to the pond,  she suddenly realizes that her interests are shifting and she might be ready to leave behind her childhood pastime. 
• In Bittersweet by Arlene Hale, two young lovers, Leslie and Claude, who have broken up but have not yet told their families of their parting are thrust together for a reunion by their well-meaning parents. As they reminisce, it begins to look as though they might be able to rekindle old feelings, until Claude’s new girlfriend appears on the scene. 
• Who is Sylvia? by Laura Nelson Baker is about Adam, who, despite warnings from his sister and his parents not to get involved with her, is head over heels for Sylvia Mauer. Sylvia is the granddaughter of a wealthy local, and though she is warm toward Adam, she is also very mysterious. In the end, Sylvia disappoints Adam by leaving town unannounced, leaving him to pretend to other girls that he has forgotten her. 
• In Theme Song by Dave Grubb, Edith works behind the counter of a restaurant next to a filling station. One night, she meets a young serviceman who tells her of the girl who is waiting for him back home and requests to hear a particular song that makes him remember her. Though Edith knows the young man is spoken for, she can’t help but think of him whenever she hears that song. Later, when the young man is dumped, she helps him retrieve the song from the jukebox so he never has to hear it again. 
• Tough Guy by Peter Brackett concludes the collection with a story about Byron Stover, a young man with a real chip on his shoulder, put there by his mouthy best friend Albert. Soon, though, Byron begins to realize how Albert may be holding him back from getting to know other people, especially girls like Nina.

I have grown weary of contemporary love stories for teens, mostly because they are usually highly sexual, and overly dramatic. This collection, by contrast, is grounded in real day-to-day problems and emotional connection, with no sexual content at all. (Half of them don’t even have any kissing!) There is a sincerity to each story, and also a maturity about topics like marriage and college that is entirely missing from so many contemporary romances. There are also several ambiguous and unhappy endings, whose realism I really appreciated.

First Love is similar to the Beverly Cleary First Love series, and to the later Betsy-Tacy books, especially Carney’s House Party. I’m not too crazy about the idea of my kids ever reading romances, but if it does have to happen someday, this is the type of book I will recommend.

Reading with Little Miss Muffet and Little Bo Peep, September 2016

This month, we started homeschooling preschool for Little Miss Muffet (2 years, 10 months) and we counted down the last days of Little Bo Peep's first year. (Her birthday is imminent!) Here are our September reading highlights:

• Miss Muffet has been able to recall the names of the authors of her favorite books for a while, but now she is beginning to recognize those same names even on books which are new to her. She was thrilled, for example, when she realized that The Relatives Came and the Poppleton books were both by Cynthia Rylant, and when I pointed out that The Doorbell Rang was written by the same author as Titch, her whole face lit up. She gets a real kick out of the idea that one person would write so many of her favorite books.
• Miss Muffet has also become very interested in comparing different editions of the same book. We recently purchased an older copy of Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See? with the original illustrations, which includes all the same animals, but has a mother instead of a teacher at the end of the story. Miss Muffet sat down with the old and new versions and compared them page for page, noting all the differences in the animals, including which direction they were looking, and the colors of their eyes. We also borrowed both the picture book and board book editions of It Looked Like Spilt Milk from the library, with the idea that Bo Peep could hold the board book while Miss Muffet read the picture book with me. Miss Muffet immediately wanted to compare the two editions, and she was somewhat dismayed to discover that the board book was abridged. She also notices subtle differences between editions that we own and those that she sees on library and bookstore shelves.
• In terms of what she has been reading, Miss Muffet is very into nonfiction right now. Topics of interest include horses, squirrels, buildings, stores, and nature. She also had a great time reading The Doorbell Rang and then retelling the story with me on the flannel board. At times when no one is available to read with her, we frequently hear her making up her own stories based on the illustrations and/or what she remembers hearing on previous readings. She also likes to "read" to her sister, though sometimes this looks a lot like grabbing a book away from Bo Peep and refusing to give it back. 
• Speaking of Little Bo Peep, we are starting to see glimpses into her growing relationship with books. When heavily prompted, she does sometimes say "buh" to indicate that she sees a book in her vicinity. (This tends to happen a lot in used bookstores when she is surrounded by nothing but bookshelves.) She also likes to hold up books and show them to anyone who is willing to look. She still doesn't get as much one-on-one reading time as her sister did at this age, but she has recently enjoyed A Splendid Friend, Indeed by Suzanne Bloom and Octopus Alone by Divya Srinivasan. She also loves Brown Bear, Brown Bear, and enjoys pointing to each animal's eyes. 
• Further evidence of Bo Peep's love for books is her constant need to pull them down from their shelves on top of herself. Her playpen is set up near the living room bookshelves, and every few days, she will get it into her head to pull on a few of the books and see if they will come down. She has a particular obsession with the Gossie books by Olivier Dunrea and The House in the Night, which have been temporarily relocated to prevent their being ripped by her eager little fingers.
• For her birthday this coming weekend, Bo Peep will receive several books: Stanley's Shapes and Stanley's Colors by William Bee, The Baby's Catalogue by Janet and Allan Ahlberg and (from Miss Muffet) Peekaboo by Janet and Allan Ahlberg. We are hoping she will love Stanley as much as the rest of us do, and we know she will love looking at babies in the two Ahlberg books.

Book Review: Hope Was Here by Joan Bauer (2000)

Named Tulip at birth by the mother who abandoned her, Hope Yancey chose a new name for herself when she was twelve years old. Now sixteen, Hope tries to live up to her name when she and her aunt Addie arrive at the Welcoming Stairs, a diner in Wisconsin in need of a short-order cook because the owner, G.T. Stoop, is fighting leukemia. Not long after Addie begins work as a cook, and Hope as a waitress, they learn that G.T. isn't just sick; he's also running for mayor against a corrupt local politician! Hope realizes quickly that G.T. is the kind of candidate who can be trusted, and even though he may not live long enough to institute his proposed plans, he is willing to literally die trying. To get the word out about Stoop's candidacy, Hope teams up with Braverman, a recent high school graduate who also cooks at the diner, and other teens, to help with his campaign, resulting in some unexpected changes in her own life and outlook.

Hope Was Here is a sweet and wholesome novel, which focuses on a black-and-white struggle of good against evil. Corruption and cancer are the clear villains, while those who trust God, tell the truth, and don't hide behind pretenses are the heroes, even if they don't always win every fight. Joan Bauer quickly builds up the world of the Welcoming Stairs, and its many interesting employees and customers. These include a local pastor, a young single mom whose daughter may have special needs, G.T.'s corrupt opponent, and many more. While the story is ultimately about Hope's own journey, the fate of her new hometown and G.T. himself are strongly connected to hers, so the book is just as much about the setting as it is about the characters. 

Because the main character is sixteen, I consider this to be a young adult novel, but its uncomplicated plot and straightforward writing style make it feel more like middle grade, and there is really no reason kids in the upper elementary grades could not enjoy it just as much as teen readers. All kids can benefit from learning about elections, voting, and the responsibilities that come along with being a good citizen - not just in this election year, but any time. There is also much to learn from this book about justice, truth, and, of course, hope. 

On Becoming an Author

In the interest of networking a bit more with the blogging community, I'm participating in this week's Book Blogger Hop. The question for this week is: Have you ever wanted to write a book? If so, what genre would you choose? And...have you been successful in writing a book? 

I think I probably first announced that I wanted to write a book when I was five or six years old. Throughout my childhood, in fact, I imagined that I would someday become an author, and I went to college still mostly believing that my future was in writing short stories and novels. I took all the creative writing classes I could get into, and then applied for the senior composition course. After being rejected from the course, and subsequently from an embarrassingly large number of graduate programs in creative writing, however,  I stopped writing almost completely. I would occasionally write collaboratively with a friend just for fun, but I wasn't really inspired to work on a writing project from beginning to end. I made a couple of attempts at NaNoWriMo, but they weren't particularly fruitful, and though I still had occasional ideas pop into my head, I mostly couldn't think of what to do with them. Creative writing, which had once come so naturally to me, began to feel like a chore, and a struggle, so I just walked away from it.

For a long time, I thought that if I couldn't write fiction, I wouldn't be an author at all. Nonfiction writing, including book blogging, didn't seem like real writing to me. I enjoyed writing book reviews, of course, but I was pretty terrible at writing English papers despite majoring in English, so I figured nonfiction wasn't something I was likely to be good at anyway. Interestingly, though, as soon as I stopped thinking of myself as a writer, the opportunity to become one came knocking at my door - or, more accurately, my inbox. A reader of my professional blog, Story Time Secrets, had recommended me to write a book about story time for Rowman & Littlefield's Practical Guide series.

While I would not say that writing a book is easy, I do think that the how-to genre - specifically when it comes to library programming - is well-suited to my capabilities. Though I had my fair share of challenges when I was trying to put my thoughts about story time into words, I was never at a loss for what to say. Writing nonfiction doesn't depend upon imagination or inspiration. The facts already exist; I just have to find them and help them make sense to the average reader. I submitted chapters over a period of about 15 months and Story Time Success: A Practical Guide for Librarians was published this summer. Also this summer I signed the contract for my second book, now in progress.

Though my writing "career" is not the glamorous life I imagined when I was a kid, I'm comfortable now identifying myself as an author, and even if I never publish again after these two books, I will be satisfied knowing that something I've written is out there in the world. Part of me still dreams of writing fiction, and perhaps when my kids are older, or grown, that dream will be realized. But until then, I'm content just to be a writer at all.

Why the Public Library Does Not Need Toys

A week or so ago, my husband and I took Little Miss Muffet and Little Bo Peep to one of our local libraries. I noticed when we walked in that something was different, and Miss Muffet did too. Shelves had been rearranged, and the toy area, once somewhat possible to avoid, was now a prominent feature of the children’s department, just begging for my preschooler to run over and jump in. Alas, despite Miss Muffet’s very definite desire to play with toys, I laid down the law: “Libraries are for books, not toys.”

If a librarian were listening when I made this statement, I’m sure she would have swooped in to give me a spiel. She would be desperate to enlighten me about the fact that play is an early literacy skill, and these carefully selected educational toys are in the library to facilitate parent/child interaction that helps kids with their narrative skills and their vocabulary. Some children might not have toys at home, she’d tell me. Libraries aren’t just for books anymore, she’d say.  Go ahead and let her play with the toys, it's okay. (This was the collective reaction of librarians online, after all, when Kate Schweitzer’s post at PopSugar made the rounds over the summer.)

Because I am a librarian, I have heard all of this before, and I’m probably supposed to believe it if I want to be seen as hip, and trendy, and forward-thinking. But as a parent, and the primary educator of my children, I think it’s mostly nonsense. The public library does not need toys. I’ll tell you why.

Play does not have to involve toys.

Jean Piaget said that “Play is the work of childhood.” No matter what they are doing, young children are playing because that is how they interact with the world. My children have some toys, but more often, at different stages of development I have found them playing with their toes, their shadows, a mirror, a paper towel tube, blankets, spoons, and each other. When I play with them, we almost never use toys. Instead, we make up scavenger hunts, tell stories about what we did today, observe birds and animals in our neighborhood, make up dances, pretend to be firefighters, and hunt for letters of the alphabet. There is nothing inherent in a toy that encourages play, and there is nothing magical about the library that suddenly turns a toy educational when it is displayed beneath an early literacy poster. With or without the toys, the early literacy benefits of play depend entirely on the interaction between the child and another person. Allowing Little Miss Muffet to play alone with the train table keeps her busy, but it is not as educational - or as valuable to my educational goals for her - as staying with her parents and selecting books to borrow.

Toys are everywhere.

Most public places which cater to young children have toys. At diners, there are crayons and cardboard cars. Fast food restaurants will happily hand over hunks of cheap plastic alongside their kids’ meals. Even stores often have baskets of ratty stuffed animals, buckets of cars and trucks, and dollhouses with mismatched furniture. Waiting rooms, toy stores, nature centers, baby clothing stores, gyms, parks, sandboxes… everywhere a child goes, there are toys. But how many of these places have books? Sure, Chick-Fil-A occasionally throws a book in with the kid’s meal. Toy stores sometimes have a rack or two of recent and classic picture books. But the only place you can take a child where they can have the singular experience of being surrounded by books is the public library. Placing toys in the public library is robbing an entire generation of this experience, and it’s not something that can be duplicated elsewhere.

My child is learning the wrong thing about libraries.

Finally, the last objection to toys in the library is personal. Miss Muffet, who absolutely loves books, has begun to associate her local public library with toys instead. I say, “Today is library day!” and instead of asking for a book about trees, or snakes, as she might have done 6 months ago, she now says, “Do they have cars and trucks? Do they have a dollhouse?” Her enthusiasm for being in a building full of books has been overshadowed by the potential ten-minute thrill of playing with a toy we don’t own. I still intend to teach her that we don’t use the library for toys, but it’s disappointing that the library itself is what has turned this into an uphill climb for me as a parent.

Reading Through History: The Wednesday Wars by Gary D. Schmidt (2007)

From the moment Holling Hoodhood's seventh grade teacher, Mrs. Baker, learns that he is Presbyterian and therefore does not attend religious instruction on Wednesday afternoons with his Jewish and Catholic classmates, Holling is convinced that she is out to get him. After several Wednesdays of doing odd jobs for Mrs. Baker, however, she begins teaching him Shakespeare. As they read through the plays and the months pass by, a genuine bond forms between teacher and student which influences many areas of both of their lives.

This book, which comes before Okay for Now, is everything a reader wants in a middle grade novel. The prose is by turns humorous and reflective, and Holling is a hero kids can believe in, even though he lives during the 1960s, because his concerns and interests are so recognizable and universal. It is truly Holling's voice, more than anything else, that carries this book, a fact which becomes especially clear when listening to the audiobook. I only listened to a small portion - the segment of the book in which Holling acts in a Shakespeare play and then must meet Mickey Mantle while still wearing a fairy costume - but hearing it read aloud in Holling's voice (performed beautifully by Joel Johnstone) really made the story come to life. That section may be the best-written passage in any middle grade novel of the last ten years; it's just perfect.

The Wednesday Wars is a school story and a family story, a story about the Vietnam war, and 1960s public schools, and a story of the importance of reading and the value of a great teacher. It resists any urge to talk down to the reader, or preach, or even hint at its message. Everything comes through in the telling of the story; because Schmidt is such a good writer, he never needs to spell out for readers what he wants them to think or feel. I can even forgive the ridiculous name of Holling Hoodhood because Schmidt makes it work.

Overall, this is a refreshingly well-written book with a wholesome family friendly feel, and the perfect mix of boyish humor and real raw emotion. Highly, highly recommended.

Book Review: Journey (2013), Quest (2014), and Return (2016) by Aaron Becker

The young girl who stars as the central character in this wordless picture book trilogy by Aaron Becker begins Journey feeling bored and left out amidst her busy family's other obligations. After asking each member of the household to spend time with her and being rejected, she, much like Sendak's Max, sets out on a journey. She begins by drawing a doorway into her bedroom wall with a red piece of chalk. The passageway she opens leads her into another world, where she is greeted cheerfully by soldiers, and then witnesses the capture of a beautiful purple bird. When she tries to free the bird, she finds herself caged, but not for long. By the end of the story, she is safely rescued and in the company of a new friend.

The second book, Quest, picks up the two children's adventure just where it leaves off in the first book. The two ride their chalk-made bicycle through the park, where they are approached by the king of the other world the girl has just visited. The king presents the children with a map which will lead them to a piece of chalk for each color of the rainbow. It becomes clear that these chalks are the source of power in the land where the king rules and by tracking them down and returning them to their rightful place, the young girl and boy will restore the king to his full strength. Throughout the book, the two friends work together ingeniously to draw the solutions to the problems presented by various obstacles in their path.

Finally, in the conclusion of the trilogy, Return, the girl once again approaches a family member, her father, with an invitation to spend time together, but is ignored. When she retreats once again to the magical world she helped to save, this time her father follows behind. When he finds his daughter, she refuses to speak to him at first,  but that changes when the king is once again put in danger, and only the girl and her dad are left free to save the day.

I read each of these books independently of the others at the time of their publication. When considering each individual book, the first one, Journey, comes across as the strongest and most compelling. The story is self-contained, with no required prior knowledge and no cliffhangers, so the reader walks away satisfied. The emotions of the story, from the girl's sadness at being excluded by her family, to the exhilaration of saving the bird from danger, to the instant recognition of a new friend at the end, are relatable and they make it easy for the reader to navigate the largely unfamiliar fantasy world. The second and third books, read as isolated stories, don't work as well. Return, especially, requires knowledge of at least the first book, if not the second, to even begin to make sense. When I received my review copy of Return, I immediately needed to reread both Journey and Quest to refresh my memory.

Read together, however, these books are truly beautiful. The trilogy reads like one cohesive story with a strong beginning, an exciting middle, and an ending which happily resolves the tension between the young girl and her dad. The illustrations in all three books are distinctive, filled with interesting uses of color and light and unique changes in perspective that show both the large-scale terrain of Becker's world, and the small details within it. Though there are no words at all in any of the books, the reader easily begins to grasp the politics of the fantasy world of the story, and to understand the danger the young characters are in as they try to rescue the chalks ahead of the bad guys because of the many details Becker includes. (Among my favorites are the petroglyphs discovered by the girl and her dad in Return, which provide pictorial backstory.) There is also perfect continuity from book to book, as the bicycle which appears on the final page of Journey is the first image of Quest, and the crown which the king places on the girl's head at the conclusion of Quest is still present on the opening page of Return.

Return is a fitting conclusion to this trilogy, and the perfect stopping point for the story arc. The final moment, especially, is subtle, but powerful, and it leaves the reader smiling and nodding that all will be well for our young heroine from now on. Because this trilogy is wordless, it can be enjoyed by children and adults at different levels. Little Miss Muffet found quite a bit to talk about in the illustrations at the tender age of two, and I'm sure her reading will only deepen as she grows. These books are a wonderful addition to any picture book collection, and I look forward to discovering whatever Aaron Becker publishes next.