MotherReader

Monday, June 16, 2008

Your Regularly Scheduled Program

Deep breath in. Deep breath out. I can sense the world settling down around me. It’s a good feeling.

In my head I had aimed for June 14th as an end to the chaos, but then amended it to June 16th after realizing that we still had a play rehearsal, a play casting call, my mother’s arrival, Father’s Day shopping, and my daughter’s play to wrap up over the weekend. Still pretty busy.

Of all the things I’m proud of this year, near the very top is my sixth... no seventh grader’s play. You see, she was selected, along with two other students and three older women, to write a ten-minute play featuring characters from the younger and the older generations. Then over the course of the last few months, the play took shape with actors and staging and props and lighting. The whole thing! The actors could use their scripts, because technically it was a play reading, but the teen and the kid in her play were off-book for the final production. It was wonderful. The actors were great, and in all honesty, I think it was the best of the six plays. While I asked her questions to help her shape the story, and Bill helped her understand the logistics of writing a play, my kid wrote the whole thing and it was fabulous.

And now with it done... breathe in, breathe out. Smooth sailing for the summer. I’ll be working on the getting the prizes out to the 48 Hour Book Challenge winners. I need to catch up on some email and blog reading. Laundry is beginning to be an issue. But how nice to take care of everything with air in my lungs. Deep breath... and out. Ahhh.

So now my news. Not News. But news, little n. Over the summer I’m having a book club with my rising seventh grade Girl Scout troop, and you’re invited to read along. Every two weeks we’ll be reading a book, generally a coming-of-age/transitions type book, and getting together to talk about it. I’m hoping to have the authors answer interview questions from the girls and post them on my blog the following week. I haven’t exactly asked said authors, so let’s all hope for the best. In fact, before announcing the whole schedule, maybe I’ll check in with those writers. But I will announce the first book anyway, because I’m unstoppable.

I’ll be meeting with my girls on Tuesday, July 1st. I’ll write up our discussion for Wednesday, July 2nd, inviting your participation. The first book in the MotherReader Summer Book Club is... Shug, by Jenny Han. This was a book I absolutely loved two years ago, and I can’t wait to share it with my daughter, her friends, and... you.

Labels: Family, Girl Scouts, Summer Book Club

Friday, January 04, 2008

Poetry Friday: Toys Song as Poetry

First of all, and non-kidlit-related, OBAMA! There, had to be said.

Next, the poetry for Poetry Friday is hosted this week by A Year of Reading. Once again, I bring you song as poetry. I think of this one from Toys every New Year:

If I cannot bring you comfort
then at least I bring you hope
for nothing is more precious
than the time we have and so
we all must learn from small misfortune
count the blessings that are real
let the bells ring out for Christmas
at the closing of the year
let the bells ring out for Christmas
at the closing of the year.

Now, I’ve been enjoying the posts popping up all over regarding the thoughts, resolutions, and goals for the new year. I loved Sara Lewis Holmes’ theme of The Year of Once (Upon a Time). In fact, I printed it and taped it on my desk at work. I dug deep to see myself in Robin Brande’s Year of Independent Thinking and Laura Salas’ Year of Losing Control. But the best I could come up with for a theme is The Year of No Plastic Spoons at Work, which doesn’t particularly inspire.

As it turns out, I had a rather stressful holiday week. Don’t worry, both I and the immediate family are fine. Really. But there was a lot of emotional turmoil from the extended family that I soak up like the Bounty quicker-picker-upper. We spent the first five days of vacation involved in various visits, meals, and gift exchanges with Bill’s family, where there were lots of last minute schedule changes and “issues” that kept it all lively. You know, where lively means stomach-churning.

Then we spent the next four days hosting my family, including my busy — but delightful — toddler niece. Oh, and did I mention that there was a visit to my actual messy house from my ninety-six-year-old Grandma? You’ve got to at least try to clean up for Grandma. Oh, and just as I needed to do the Cybils judging with my fellow panelists, my husband was taking my mother to the urgent care center for an infection that was coming back with a bullet. Which kept my mom here for another day — and as I was trying to open up some communication among us, I ended up causing a big blow-up where the actual phrase “If I died tomorrow...” was uttered. Fortunately, my brother had the quickness to reply, “Tomorrow’s really not good for me.” Gotta love family getting together for the holidays.

At least I got a notebook computer, or I’d have to call the whole thing a wash.

So, if you’ve read this far — and bless you if you did — I’m giving myself the weekend before I start the new year. And I’m telling anyone else who needs a mother’s permission to take the extra time as well. It’s my New Year’s gift to you. I have to admit to myself that I need some quieter time to reflect before I can arrive at a soul-centering theme or goal or resolution. Or even to decide not to arrive at a soul-centering theme or goal or resolution. In which case, The Year of No Plastic Spoons at Work stands.

Labels: Family, Holidays, Personal and Somewhat Embarrassing Stories Told to Make a Point, Poetry Friday

Tuesday, December 25, 2007

Yeah, Yeah, Merry Christmas

Instead of talking about the joy of Christmas, the spirit of giving, and all that jazz, I’d like to focus my attention on the little things that really bring the holiday home to me.

Of course, there’s always not getting what you wanted. In this case, not making the Brotherhood 2.0 Happy Dance video. We were disappointed. We posted a video response with the girls dancing at, yes, The Land of Little Horses. John did comment, which was nice, but too little, too late. ;^)

There’s the delight of a fancy party where you know very few people and feel very old because when did the dresses get so short and the music get so loud? But, hey, at least for once in your life you’ve got an “up-do.” Gotta love complicated hair.

While other families bake cookies and decorate them lovingly, you make sugar cookies that you cut from the roll and cover with random bits of candy, making the whole thing look like an exercise in modern art. (Though you’re rather fond of the Mr. Bill cookie. Oh no!)

And what’s Christmas, really, without the cats getting stoned on catnip?

Or shameless, shameless self-promotion. (BACA merchandise is still available at the MotherReader store. Just think how fun it will be to carry the tote bag — just $14.99 — to the ALA conference or the bookstore.)

Merry Christmas to all.

Labels: BACA, Brotherhood 2.0, Christmas, Family

Tuesday, December 11, 2007

Break For Hanukkah

Now I’m Jewish like Britney Spears is a brunette — occasionally and with some effort — but Hanukkah brings out the need to express my heritage. But being half-Jewish, I only lit the candles on the menorah four nights this year. I wish I were kidding, but it would have been funnier if the negligence were deliberate.

I did celebrate with my grandmother, aunt, uncle, and cousins on Saturday. One of the highlights of the evening was my reading of the new Lemony Snicket book, The Latke Who Couldn’t Stop Screaming. Just hysterical. A latke runs screaming from the frying pan, and encounters various Christmas icons along its path. As the latke explains what it is and its significance in the celebration of Hanukkah, it keeps getting compared to Christmas. And so it keeps screaming.

Lemony Snicket actually gets in a fair bit about the meaning of Hanukkah, while keeping a wry tone throughout. One of my favorite parts is when the latke is explaining to Christmas lights why it is fried in oil:

“Because I’m a latke,” said the latke. “The olive oil reminds us of the oil used to rededicate the temple following the defeat of Antiochus at the hands of the Maccabees. The oil was only supposed to last for one night but there was a miracle and it lasted for eight. Plus frying makes my skin crispy and brown.”

“So you’re basically hash browns,” said the flashing colored lights. “Maybe you can be served alongside a Christmas ham.”

“I’m not hash browns!” cried the latke. “I’m something completely different!”

And then it runs screaming, “AAAHHHHHHHHH!” for two pages.

It’s lots of fun to read aloud, either to a crowd of adults and kids at a Hanukkah celebration, or to a class of third or fifth graders at school. This book will be a must-read every year.

Tonight is the last night of Hanukkah, and before I try making my own latkes, I wanted to leave you with my favorite comedy bit of the season. It’s Steven Colbert on The Daily Show, and it cracks me up every time. (“Rosh Hashanah?” “Okay, now you’re just making words up.”) Enjoy.

Labels: Book Reviews, Family, Holidays

Tuesday, November 06, 2007

The Edge and DC KidLit Drink Night

I’ve returned from a long weekend which was equal parts complete delight in my toddler niece and emotionally draining upkeep of my mother. Ah, family. Gotta love ’em.

I’ve also wasted my one day that is both off work and at home sneezing my poor nose off. Delayed allergy attack from cleaning twenty pounds of pine needles off my mother’s roof? Oncoming cold to taint my good deed karma? A coup by my nose against my very face? Wish I could tell you.

I can find a little bit of peace in being able to post an announcement about the new Edge of the Forest issue instead of writing up something today. The issue includes an article I wrote, “Can A Funny Book Be Taken Seriously?” which included some great insights from some wonderful writers (who are particularly wonderful for responding to my article question quickly, much less at all). I can only hope it included some interesting bits from me. The Edge also features an interview with Sara Zarr, a discussion about readergirlz’ “31 Flavorite Authors for Teens,” many reviews of Young Adult novels, and even more for the low, low price of... nothing!

In other news, there looks to be a DC-brand KidLit Drink Night on Saturday, November 10th. Okay, it’s actually in Bethesda, Maryland, not DC, but we’re all one big regional family here. The new locale is the Rí~Rá Pub & Restaurant at 4931 Elm Street. There is a cheap parking garage across the street (its meters take change) and it’s about three blocks from the Bethesda Red Line Metro stop. I’ll be there along with writers Sara Lewis Holmes and Caroline Hickey, and you’re invited too! We’re meeting around 6:00 p.m. and staying until we get sick of each other. Come on out and hang with the cool crowd — oh, and me.

Labels: Edge of the Forest, Family, Kidlit Drink Night in DC

Sunday, July 08, 2007

A Fourth Story

I wasn’t going to write this story, but then I looked at the line-up of posts I have. Go ahead, scroll down and look in awe. Or maybe a couple of notches below awe. There’s the ALA post with mucho comments. The new Knuffle Bunny exclusive. Two great book recommendations and one book slam. So even though this story is a little late, it feels right to include it and knock the one weak post off the page.

So I had a great Independence Day. At midnight, I was re-reading The Other Boleyn Girl, and I read until 2:00 a.m. for no other reason than I wanted to. I love this series, because though you know it might be trash, the historical aspect allows you believe that it’s good for you. They’re like the book equivalent of Lunchables.

I slept late, and then played around with my digital photos for a while. The family decided to give the community pool party a try, and even though I was worried that it would be too crowded, it was very fun. The kids played games diving for change, racing for soda, and swimming a relay race. There was also food and little star-spangled knick-knacks to buy. At the end, they had a beer dive for the adults. All the kids probably enjoyed that more than anything, because there is something very amusing about watching grown-ups make fools of themselves to get a beer. Adults call that “college.” We went home and Bill cooked out while I snuggled on the hammock with my younger daughter. We ate inside just as the storm went through, meaning the night would probably be fine for fireworks.

At the local fireworks display, we met up with our friends and set up a spot on the ground. After music and visiting, the show was about to begin. Now I didn’t think of the fireworks as a fake war, as noted by John Green at Brotherhood 2.0. It never crossed my mind. But he is an intelligent Printz-winning author, and I’m a blogger who just about wets herself with glee for using “bitch-slapped Tinkerbell” in a post, so maybe that’s understandable. What I’m saying here is that I was moved by the pretty lights and the crowds surrounding me. There was music playing during the display as well, and it was not your standard 1812 Overture, but pretty much any pop/country/rock song that featured the words “America” or “U.S.A.” Yes, we could question the wisdom of including Carrie Underwood’s “Independence Day,” which is about abuse, arson, and perhaps murder, but it was crazy-fun to sing out the chorus while the fireworks lit up the sky. “Let freedom ring! Let the white dove sing! Let the whole world know that today is a day of reckoning!”

Beside me was a man who was cheering on the display like most men would yell at a football game. Given the profusion of Spanish I heard uttered earlier, I’m going to make his story that he and his family recently came to America and were very excited to be here. With the fireworks, and the music, and the exuberance, I was touched. I thought it was one of the best shows I’d ever been to.

Suddenly the fireworks stopped. Technical difficulties. Much more like my luck, especially given my fantastic day. I mean, how much longer could things go well for me? But I was upbeat, and took my girls to the bathroom while the band played and we waited for the show to get back on track. While I was in line, a cute guy — shirtless and built and twenty-fiveish — started chatting me up. He even did the conversational arm-touch thing! I was in complete internal conflict between “Does he think I’m someone else?” and singing “Stacy’s mom has got it goin’ on!”

At that point, the announcement came on that the fireworks could not continue. Show over. Given my incredible day, with the hot guy flirting with me, the universe had clearly had enough. I blew some kind of karmic fuse.

I feel bad for the rest of the audience who paid for my mistake, but what can I do? If you believe The Secret, we all attracted that kind of luck with our negative energy, so maybe we’re all to blame.

And that leads me to the slight — very slight — book connection. At the end of next week, I’m bringing out The Secret. Brush off your copy, or skim it at the local bookstore, and we’ll talk the good, the bad, and the insane aspects of this bestseller.

Labels: Family, Holidays, Irony-Prone, Karma

Sunday, May 27, 2007

Checking In With Myself

Every Sunday, Seven Impossible Things has a post that asks the blog readers to list seven (more or less) great things that happened in the past week. It’s become a weekly ritual for me, not only to read and respond, but also to revisit and reflect to come up with seven things. Personally, I like the idea of coming up with exactly seven things, because it forces me to look back at my week and find the great things that happened to me. Sometimes they are big and obvious. Sometimes they are small and discreet. But the weekly task serves as a reminder to me that even in the chaotic, crazy weeks, good things are happening and sometimes you just have to allow yourself to see them.

Every Friday, I stop by Robin Brande’s blog to report on the nice thing I’ve done for myself that week. Now treating myself is not my issue. I’m always the woman who will take a nap rather than sort the laundry if said nap is needed. I generally make time to read and play and soak in the sunshine. However, going to visit on Friday has reminded me to pay attention to when I treat myself and to how I treat myself. Sometimes it’s a gaudy ring that will just make me smile. Sometimes it’s taking a break in the hammock. But what’s important for me is mentally checking in to make sure I am keeping some balance in what I’m giving to others and what I’m giving to myself.

This weekend has been a bit of a breath in the tight schedule I’ve been keeping. There have been some long conversations with my dad — some overly long — that have kept our connection. Together, we’ve worked on cleaning and fixing the deck. It’s been extremely satisfying to get that done. I’ve realized that next week is a little less busy than it has been, which should get me on track with my booktalking. And in something that qualifies as both a kick-ass thing and a nice thing I’m doing for myself, I’ve come to the conclusion that I over-prepare for these booktalks, so I’m scaling back. I’ll prepare a third fewer books and repeat them more to the different classes. It seems obvious now, but sometimes these moments of clarity come under crises.

Today I’m going to see my grandmother for her 96th birthday. Ninety-six years old, can you believe it? She’s still sharp as a tack, too. Tomorrow I’m allowing some downtime with my girls at the pool. But yes, I’ll be bringing a book. Maybe two.

Labels: Family, Me

Wednesday, January 31, 2007

Five... No, Three YA Books

Last weekend I drove home to see my niece. My husband took off a day of work. My youngest skipped a friend’s birthday party. I gave up the chance to do any of the forty-two projects that needed doing. We drove three hours down and three hours back. Over the three days, we saw my niece for about four hours. Some of the problem was in scheduling. Some of the problem was in someone else not making a whole lot of effort to see us. It was a big disappointment for me and my family, and I may have ended up causing another family incident similar to the Christmas Debacle of 2006. Not that I yelled, or said mean things. We’re just a very sensitive family.

So, that happened.

My mother doesn’t have a computer, much less Internet. I did some helpful daughter stuff and then I read. Over the three days, including driving time, I read five young adult books.

Upon my return, it hit me how little of an accomplishment that was. There was no parade. No raise in my salary. No feeling of higher enlightenment. Why isn’t there some kind of Pizza Hut Book It program for adults? I want a personal pan pizza too, and I deserve it!

I can’t even write about five books in one post. Or can I?

Accidents of Nature, by Harriet McBryde Johnson
Jean has cerebral palsy and attends a summer camp with kids who have many different kinds of disabilities. She meets Sara, who opens her eyes with her sharp look at the world of normals and Crips. I found the book to be interesting and insightful, but I wondered how different the book would be if it were set in the present time instead of in 1970.

The Fighter, by Jean-Jacques Greif
When you’re feeling sorry for yourself, there’s nothing like fiction about the Holocaust to make you feel like a whiner. This is a powerful, harsh, and graphic book. The story follows a young man, who gets taken from his home in France (after immigrating from Poland) and sent to the camps. The book is based on a survivor’s story and takes its title from the fact that Moshe was a boxer. But, of course, since he made it through such a horrible thing, he’s also a fighter. Oh, I get it. The common-word title also makes it a pain to look up when you don’t remember the author.

Saint Iggy, by K.L. Going
In keeping with the dark theme of the day, I choose this well-written book about a kid who’s down on his luck. Iggy’s drug-addict mother has taken off, his father’s a drunk, and he’s facing expulsion from school. He turns to an older kid who is not much better off than Iggy, but at least he has a mom to turn to. It was an interesting book, but generally it’s not a good sign if the guy on the cover is wearing angel wings. I’m just sayin’.

As it turns out, I can’t write about five books in one post. The rest tomorrow.

Labels: Book Reviews, Family, Young Adult Books

Sunday, December 17, 2006

Woe Is Not So Much Me Anymore

Today, a new perspective, because I generally don’t stay down for long.

If my mother, brother, and niece aren’t coming for Christmas — bad thing number one — then I don’t really have to worry if my house is clean — bad thing number two — meaning that two negatives cancel each other out. My maternity cargo pants are no worse than sweat pants, and they look better. Perhaps the oddly wide elastic waistband should have tipped me off when I was trying them on, but it’s not like they have a tummy pouch, so I can stand by my error in buying them and enjoy them without guilt. I am still a little down that blogs seem to be un-linking me, but that will just inspire me to do something exciting in late January. Maybe a contest of some sort.

And of course, I am cheered by the restored equilibrium between me and Mo. We have a relationship of sorts. I semi-stalk him online and in person, and he doesn’t have a personal restraining order issued. There’s a comfort in it. And now that he’s actually commented here, we are that much closer to being BFF — best friends forever. Especially after I gave him his own category in my blogroll.

Oh, and thanks to my husband, I’m now on beta Blogger. I’m not even sure what that means, but I’m hoping that I’ll be able to comment on my blogfriends’ sites again without using the “anonymous” button — which has been slightly humiliating.

I am proud of my Twenty-One Ways to Give a Book and my Twenty-One More Ways to Give a Book, because with my knowledge of books and my love of shopping, I can contribute something unique. I’ll move the links over to my template for permanent reference.

Today I’ll celebrate Hanukkah with my aunt, cousins, and my cousins’ four kids. We exchange presents for the kids, and I bought all of them books — commitment to the cause. We’ll eat lots of latkes and tons of sweets. I’ll give my ninety-five-year-old grandmother a calendar I made through Snapfish with pictures of my kids and my baby niece.

Thanks to my blogfriends for sending me uplifting comments. I’ll tell you, I love this blogging community. It makes me realize why I spend so much time online and so little time, say, cleaning my living room. Or buying better pants, even.

Labels: Family, Gift Books, Mo Willems

Saturday, December 16, 2006

Woe Is Me

It’s not been a good day for me. Here’s why.

My mom and brother had an argument, and now I don’t think they will be coming for Christmas — meaning I won’t see my beautiful, baby niece whom I adore. Presumably, I will also have to negotiate the peace settlement.

You know those scenes in movies where the bad guys search the good guy’s house to find something of value and they’ve left it completely trashed with stuff all over the place? That is how my living room looks right now.

With a lot of work to do today, I put on the only comfy pants I could find. And between the advent of lower rise jeans, which slip down, and my... ahem, weight, the most comfortable working pants I’ve got are maternity cargo pants. Even sadder, I bought them recently. My youngest child is seven.

While my readership is going slightly up, my Technorati rank is going slightly down because I now have fewer links from other sites. I have somehow gone from attracting people to actually repelling them.

As if it isn’t enough that Fuse#8 meets the cool authors at cool receptions at her cool library, y’know, along with having the top kids’ literature blog, she breaks the news that Mo Willems — my Mo Willems — has a new blog. On his site he shares some of his drawings and doodles and...

...I’m sorry, I can’t even go on.

Labels: Family, Mo Willems

Tuesday, December 12, 2006

It’s a Tradition

I make the rounds of a few mommy and daddy blogs, but only if they’ve got a bit of the funny about them. Notes From the Trenches is written by a mom of seven kids who seems to handle it all with a laid-back style and a sense of humor. On her sub-blog she talked about a special holiday tradition with Christmas books. She wraps them up and opens one a day as sort of a literary advent calendar. I think that is so cool.

When she opened up the comments to other holiday traditions from readers, I could only think of two long-standing traditions. We always order pizza on Christmas Eve because we’re so blown out from all the holiday preparations. We did it a couple of times, and then it seemed funny to keep doing it, and that’s how traditions start in my family. Also, for years we had the tradition of the Domino-experience Christmas tree. We wanted a tree that we could pick out, pay for, and bring home in thirty minutes or less. For years my in-laws would try to get us to go to this Christmas tree farm an hour away to trudge through the cold and chop down a tree. They could not get it that we wanted a tree with minimal fuss. Last year my mother gave us her artificial tree, and though I don’t love it — it’s pretty skinny — I don’t care enough to get a better one or pay seventy dollars for a live tree.

But I forgot our most important Christmas tradition. I always take my kids for a Christmas picture at JC Penney (the $9.99 package of one pose, 37 pictures) and then to see Santa in the mall. We have done this every year, except the one year I tried Target’s photography studio, which appeared to be staffed by employees on rotations from the stockroom. They were rude, used bad poses, and took terrible pictures. At JC Penney the employees are nice, actually seem like they do this job often, and keep taking pictures until they get a good one.

This year we were early for our photo session. I know, unprecedented. We finished quickly and were on to see Santa in no time. My husband skipped out of work early to join us for what will probably be my seven-year-old’s last Christmas of believing in the mall Santa Claus. It was very sweet, especially my ten-year-old playing along and sitting beside Santa. Our picture of them with Santa is total crap. The seven-year-old is squinting, and Santa looks like he has a hangover, but it’s still special.

My other holiday tradition is reading to my daughter’s classes. Today I’ll go to the fifth grade and read Hanukkah at Valley Forge, by Stephen Krensky. For my oh-so-careful-it’s-politically-correct school system, the book is a little heavy on the religious history of Hanukkah. However, since it continually makes the connection between the fight of the Maccabees and America’s fight with the British, I’m calling the whole thing historical and I’m going with it. The book does have basis in historical fact, as it was noted in an American Revolution period diary that General Washington had learned about Hanukkah from a Polish soldier.

I’ll also read A Christmas Tree in the White House, by Gary Hines. It’s an interesting book with a historical background that makes it ideal to share with fifth graders. The book recounts the fictionalized story of the Roosevelt children sneaking a tree into their bedroom in the White House when their father said that they couldn’t have a tree. Theodore Roosevelt was concerned about conservation of the forests and didn’t think that the president should set an example for the country by cutting down a tree. Can you imagine — a president who cares about conservation? It seems so quaint.

Labels: Book Reviews, Family

Wednesday, August 23, 2006

Glass Half Full

I’m a “glass half full” kind of person. Stop laughing, Bill — I am. Sort of. Sometimes. Well anyway, today I was.

Last night my seven-year-old was snuggling in our bed. She was having trouble sleeping, and it was almost midnight. She sat up, muttered something incomprehensible, and threw up on my actual person. The hubby and I went into full-on crisis mode. He scooped her up and ran to the bathroom. I also ran to the bathroom, undressed my disgusting self and tried to clean up. I made a fair shake of it and returned to pull off the sheets and mattress cover before damage could be done to our bed. You know, the only mattress without plastic sheeting.

With the seven-year-old under my husband’s care, I went to take a shower to rid myself of the residual stench. We tucked my daughter in, my husband went back to bed, and I waited to put the sheets in the dryer. I was also listening for further episodes from my little one, but thankfully, none were forthcoming. However, with the surprise shower, listening to her every movement and the general post-traumatic stress. I could not get to sleep. I read a book and turned in after 2:00 a.m.

But I woke up today looking at the positive. I guess I didn’t have to go to work. And we would be obliged to stay home. No tossing your cookies at the pool, after all. I could catch up on some housework, some blog stuff, and maybe read a book.

With my seven-year-old feeling better and clearly in view (one rule in my house: don’t throw up on Mommy’s brand new couches), I turned my attention to Haunted Waters. I think the author is Mary Pope Osborne — because it says so on the cover — but I would never have suspected it or, without proof positive, believed it. The book is so far removed from the Magic Tree House series as to occupy an entirely different literary planet.

The story is based on a German fairy tale, “Undine,” but she has crafted her own version of the story. It’s creepy with anticipation and mixing with the unknown. A Lord is riding in the woods, when he is drawn in further by mysterious sources. He is welcomed in from the storm by a fisherman and his mad wife. When he sees their daughter, called in from visiting the sea, he is entranced. Stuck on their land for a few days as a flood cuts off his return to his castle, he gets to know the mysterious and lovely Undine and falls in love with her. But the woods hold a demon that terrifies him, even though Undine is not afraid. She has always known its presence. Can the two of them make a future when her past holds her so tightly?

This is a spooky book, of mood and mystery more than actual bad things happening. Mary Pope Osborne wrote Haunted Waters in 1994, than recently revised and republished it. Is it good? It’s not my style, so I find it hard to judge. But it certainly is different. And things could be worse than reading a just decent book. I mean, I believe I’ve covered that topic pretty well today.

Labels: Book Reviews, Family

Thursday, January 26, 2006

Raise a Reader, Raise a Writer

I ask for a little indulgence here.

My fourth grade daughter wrote an essay for the PTA’s “Reflections” contest, and it won for her grade category at her school. This year’s theme was “I Wonder Why,” and the children who particpated tended to wonder about nature or the world around them. My daughter wrote something a little different. My husband and I have told enough people about this essay that we’ve received many requests for a copy. Thus, I post it here tonight, and we hope that as it goes on to the next level of judging, other people will find it just as... let’s say, inspirational.

Motion Activated
I wonder why automatic paper towel dispensers hate me. It all started a bit ago. We were on a car trip, and had made a pit stop at the public bathrooms. When I was done, I went to the automatic paper towel dispensers to dry my hands. I waved my hand in front of the sensor. Nothing. I did it again, and again, and again. I didn’t just wave, I did everything! Nothing. My mom walked over, waved, and got a paper towel. My sister walked over, waved, and got a paper towel. I waved, and waved, and waved. Nothing. Finally, I got fed up and grabbed a paper towel that had been hanging out of another dispenser. There was only one logical explanation. They hate me. Why?

Labels: Family

: Name: MotherReader; Location: Virginia, USA

One of the bestselling preschool books of recent times was Walter the Farting Dog. At the same time, the American Library Association named as one of its best books Michael Rosen’s Sad Book, a book in which Mr. Rosen talks about his despair over the death of his son. I believe that, for most of us, what we want lies somewhere between a flatulent canine and overwhelming grief.

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Monday, June 16, 2008

Your Regularly Scheduled Program

Friday, January 04, 2008

Poetry Friday: Toys Song as Poetry

Tuesday, December 25, 2007

Yeah, Yeah, Merry Christmas

Tuesday, December 11, 2007

Break For Hanukkah

Tuesday, November 06, 2007

The Edge and DC KidLit Drink Night

Sunday, July 08, 2007

A Fourth Story

Sunday, May 27, 2007

Checking In With Myself

Wednesday, January 31, 2007

Five... No, Three YA Books

Sunday, December 17, 2006

Woe Is Not So Much Me Anymore

Saturday, December 16, 2006

Woe Is Me

Tuesday, December 12, 2006

It’s a Tradition

Wednesday, August 23, 2006

Glass Half Full

Thursday, January 26, 2006

Raise a Reader, Raise a Writer

The Basics

Previous Posts

Hot Topics

The heart of a Mother. The soul of a Reader.

Monday, June 16, 2008

Your Regularly Scheduled Program

Friday, January 04, 2008

Poetry Friday: Toys Song as Poetry

Tuesday, December 25, 2007

Yeah, Yeah, Merry Christmas

Tuesday, December 11, 2007

Break For Hanukkah

Tuesday, November 06, 2007

The Edge and DC KidLit Drink Night

Sunday, July 08, 2007

A Fourth Story

Sunday, May 27, 2007

Checking In With Myself

Wednesday, January 31, 2007

Five... No, Three YA Books

Sunday, December 17, 2006

Woe Is Not So Much Me Anymore

Saturday, December 16, 2006

Woe Is Me

Tuesday, December 12, 2006

It’s a Tradition

Wednesday, August 23, 2006

Glass Half Full

Thursday, January 26, 2006

Raise a Reader, Raise a Writer

The Basics

Previous Posts

Hot Topics

The heart of a Mother.
The soul of a Reader.