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Book Talks for 2003-2004 Award Nominees
1st to Die by James Patterson
Someone is killing newlyweds on their wedding days. And not just taking their lives, viciously mutilating and denigrating the couples in death, leaving crime scenes that turn the stomachs of all involved.
Including chief investigator Lindsay Boxer. But Lindsay has more on her plate than tracking down a sadistic killer. She has just learned she has Negli's aplastic anemia, a rare blood disorder that can be fatal. She is driven to fight off the illness that requires many blood transfusions by her persistence in solving the murders.
Lindsay forms a support team of women, "The Women's Murder Club" including a homicide detective, a medical examiner, an assistant district attorney, and a reporter who meet to unofficially look into the details of each case. They turn out to be a lifeline for Lindsay as well as performing excellent analytical work on the murders.
Wrap this all together with romantic feelings Lindsay begins to have for her assigned partner, Chris, and you have an emotional journey with a national search for a brutal killer at the forefront.
(Not for the first-time crime novel reader, this is a vivid look into murder, fixation, and forensics. Those comfortable with the genre will find a fast paced, twisting tale of cat and many mice.)
Jan Knauer
Aimee by Mary Beth Miller
The trial is over. I was acquitted of the murder charges, but it is hard to go on when even your parents think you are guilty. My friends had to testify at the trial and they didn't even stand up for me or meet my eyes once during the whole thing. The closest anyone came to really looking at me was when Chard had to point at me, but he didn't look at me, not even when he left the stand. So I was alone during the whole trial, and my best friend is gone forever. Aimee took away all of my other friends, and my family too. She even tried on that last night to take Chard from me. I didn't think that this could happen. Friends don't commit suicide.
My parents decided that I needed a fresh start, so we have moved to a new town to escape the stigma of the trial. Whether we moved for them, or me I don't know. I have no friends. And to top it all off, I have to see a court-ordered psychiatrist. Actually, this is the fourth one that I've seen. It was part of my sentence. I call it "My Plan to Become Normal Again."
My parents think that everything these quacks have tried is psychobabble, garbage in other words, but that's because they want to pretend that nothing's happened. We are supposed to be a perfectly normal family with one child, no divorce, a large income and three cars, counting the SUV and they don't want anything to rock that boat. It's unstable enough as it is.
The shrink, I call her Marge (the name seems to fit her) wants me to write everything in a journal. So last night, I wrote about how awful it is to have to go to shrinks, and how awful my parents are - ladder climbing kiss-ups. I wanted to look cooperative. But Marge didn't like that. She told me that it wasn't useful stuff. She handed it back to me and said that I needed to write about what it used to be like with Aimee, Chard, Kates, Jason and Kyle. She wanted me write about what I felt and thought and what was important to me. She promised that she wouldn't read it unless I wanted her too. I was tempted to look up into her eyes, but I didn't want her to see the doubt in mine.
I don't know if I can write about what happened and come out whole - ALIVE. I don't know if I can look back. Besides, if I tell it, who will listen? No one believes us- the kids that is. They all think we have it so great, and that this is the best times of our lives. When people tell me that, I want to puke. If this is the best time of my life, and I'm going to spend the rest of my life looking back at this with fondness, then I should just end this right now.
Aimee, I didn't mean that.
Aimee I'm sorry, but Marge may be right. I've been so uncooperative with the other shrinks, and there's no one else left one the list of acceptable list the judge gave my parents, that I guess I will try writing the journal. It is easier that talking about it and I don't have to show it to anyone. So, here goes.
Marilyn Bunker
All American Girl by Meg Cabot
Here are the top 10 reasons why Samantha Madison's life might just be over:
10. She can't stand her first-born sister (a.k.a. Lucy): you know the kid most likely to be CEO of a major corporation, dictator of a small country, supermodel, you name it.
9. She's in love with her first-born sister's boyfriend (a.k.a. Jack): you know, the one with the soul of an artist, the tortured genius. Surely Jack is just about to realize that he really doesn't like Lucy dragging him to teen gross-out movies, or the mall, or receiving boxer shorts with Tweetie Bird on them for his birthday. Surely he would much rather see independent films, visit museums or galleries, discuss the latest issue of Art in America, and open a present filled with sable brushes or a leather-bound copy of Romeo and Juliet.
8. She can't even begin to understand her last-born sister (a.k.a. Rebecca): you know, the kid most likely to discover a cure for cancer, host her own talk show, step up to the alien mother ship when it lands and be all, "Hey, welcome to Earth."
7. That's right, Samantha is the middle sister: you know, the misunderstood forgotten middle child. The kid most likely to be a teen runaway, the one who's died everything she owns black and has bright orange hair sticking straight out of the top of her head.
6. Samantha has to take art lessons from Susan Boone. That's right Susan Boone. You know, the teacher who has a big black crow named Joe who likes to take chunks out of Samantha's scalp while chanting, "Mind your manners, mind your manners." Susan Boone, who has the nerve to tell Sam that she must "draw what she sees, not what she knows"... as if she weren't already the best artist in the whole class.
5. While trying to avoid art lessons Samantha inadvertently saves the life of the President. That's right, the President. You know, the guy who runs our nation. She didn't mean to do it. One minute she was standing on the street, looking for her ride. The next minute the President's entourage pulls up and "He" gets out. Then some old guy next to her pulls a gun, and Samantha finds herself flying through the air at the old guy.
4. Samantha now has a broken wrist, is in the hospital, is surrounded by men in black suits with ear thingies, and is looking at the TV with breaking news bulletins showing a picture of Samantha's school ID photo... You know, the one you never show to anyone for fear of public humiliation... the one where you blink just as the picture's being taken and your hair has gone completely berserk.
3. The news is calling Samantha a national hero and now she can't go anywhere without lightbulbs popping in her face and microphones being stuck under her chin. People who used to avoid Sam now invite her to parties and dress in all new, all black clothes from the Gap. And, to top it off, Samantha has been asked, by the President, to be the Teen Ambassador to the U.N.
2. Samantha has just found out that the cute guy in her art class at Susan Boone's is none other than the son of the President of the United States. You know, the one whose life she just saved. How was she to know? I mean, he was wearing a Save Ferris T-shirt and combat boots. He looked nothing like the geeky guy she'd seen on TV.
1. Samantha begins to suspect that Number One Son might just be in love with her.
Susan Bartel
The whole reason I ended up saving the president of the United States life is on account of a pineapple that wasn't there. My name is Samantha Madison or Sam for short and no I'm not related to Dolley Madison. I'm an urban rebel, meaning I dress in black on a daily basis and I'm not like my cheerleader popular sister, Lucy who pours over the fashion magazines daily. She does have the coolest boyfriend, Jack who I'm sure is my soulmate and once he wakes up and realizes this, he'll break up with Lucy to be with me.
Back to the pineapple that wasn't there. I have a bit of an artistic talent and have gotten a reputation around school that I can draw a decent celebrity picture. For the most part I do this for free, because I don't think it's fair to charge anyone except for Kris Parks and her group of snobby friends. Kris Parks was my best friend up until third grade when my dad moved us to Morocco. The next year when we came back, I had to attend a speech and hearing class to overcome my speech impediment, something akin to what Cindy had on the Brady Bunch and Kris believed this was fodder to dump me as her friend. But I digress. The problem is Lucy squealed on me about drawing celebrity pictures during Duetsh class and my parents decided to sign me up for an art class to channel my talents.
All of that was right and good until the day we had an assignment to draw a still life. Susan Boone, the art teacher, put some fruit on the table and said, "Draw what you see". So I did, and I added a pineapple to spruce up the picture. When she came around to critiquing mine, she said "Oh Sam, I didn't tell you to draw what you know, but what you see". Needless to say, when next Thursday rolled around and Theresa our housekeeper dropped me off, I didn't head up to class. I went into Capitol Cookies to get a snack and then to Static to listen to some music.
Later on, when I was back out on the sidewalk waiting for Theresa, the president came into Capitol Cookies. Then when he came back out, I noticed the guy on the sidewalk next to me, who was also in Static listening to Billy Joel's "Uptown Girl" (music for old people, by the way). Mr. "Uptown Girl" started fiddling with his jacket and the next thing I know, he's pulling a gun on the president. Without even thinking about it, I leapt on top of the guy, foiling his plan and saving the president.
Now I'm considered a national hero, with a broken wrist on top of it. Not only that, but I don't want my parents to find out that I was ditching art class and that's how I saved the president's life. On top of that, the whole reason the president showed up in that neighborhood is that his son David was in my class. The very guy who I thought was sort of cute and complimented me on my combat boots. He also knows about my pineapple fiasco. There are times like this, I wish I could be someone cool like Gwen Stephani who would totally know how to handle a situation like this. What's a girl to do??
Susi Bonato
In the right place at the right time? Or was it the wrong time? wrong place? Dressed all in black, and with wild red hair, Samantha prided herself on her nonconformity, her sensitivity, and her artistic talent. She was hardly inconspicuous as she nonchalantly perused CDs at a music store instead of going to the art lesson her mother had insisted on.
But after almost accidently saving the life of the President of the USA ( who just happened to have a non-conformist, artistic son) what could she do but be an All-American girl?
An entertaining examination of an "all-American" teenage girl's values by the author of The Princess Diaries, Meg Cabot, this will be a popular read.
Marge Erickson Freeburn
Artemis Fowl by Eoin Colfer
The author describes this book as "Die Hard with Fairies" and it is a first in a series.
The reader will discover that these are high-tech fairies and the book is action-packed and filled with 21st century gadgets. Artemis Fowl is from a legendary crime family. He seems to be almost completely evil, but maybe he does care about his crazy mother who is locked in a bedroom upstairs in the family mansion. Yes, he is rich, but he wants more, so he kidnaps the leprechaun, Holly Short. He wants the gold, but he also wants to have a wish granted. What will he do with the gold and what is his wish?
Karen Kargel
"Stay back, human. You don't know what you're dealing with."
But, Artemis does know! Artemis Fowl, a millionaire, genius 12-year-old criminal mastermind, has stolen the secrets of the fairies. He knows their history, magic and rules.
And now Artemis has kidnapped Captain Holly Short of the LEPrecon Unit. He plans to exchange her for gold . . . lots of gold.
But Holly's Commander isn't going to take this sitting down. Artemis Fowl and his Butler are up against and entire unit of armed and dangerous fairies.
Kathy Preller
Dr Franklin's Island By Ann Halam
Semi was certain that nothing could ever be more horrific than what she (and Miranda and Arnie) had just lived through. But she is wrong.
Semi, Miranda, and Arnie - they probably wouldn't have become friends under normal circumstances. But, then again, these weren't exactly normal circumstances! They were 3 of 37 British teens about to have the biggest adventure of their lives - three weeks deep in the rain forests of Ecuador and the Galapagos islands.
Semi was seated next to Miranda on the flight. Miranda - self-assured, outgoing - a natural leader - everything Semi was not. And Arnie? - well, he was a big, chunky pale boy, sitting by himself - he just glared at Semi when she sat near him. Aloof, that describes him. Not exactly the stuff friendships are made of.
Then, halfway through the flight, something goes very, very wrong. There was a loud bang and the plane starts lurching all over the place. Confusion - no one really knows what happens next - except that the plane suddenly began a steep nose-dive and then, just before it hits the sea, the pilot miraculously levels it out. Now, there is mayhem. Everyone scrambles to get out. Miranda tells Semi to hold on and not let go. Stick together. Next thing they knew, they were in the water, buoyed up by their life jackets. And then they started swimming - swimming as fast as they could away from the wreckage - away from the deafening explosion. Swimming, swimming, swimming. That's all Semi could remember. She doesn't really know how they made it to the sand, and crawled out of the roaring waves. Semi, Miranda, and, Arnie, further down the shore. Three survivors, alone, somewhere, nowhere. But alive.
Semi was certain that nothing could ever be more horrific than what she had just lived through. But she is wrong.
Surviving on the beach - the sun, the snakes, the dead body parts, ...and the fading hope of rescue - that just may be the easiest part of their ordeal. For unknown to them, there's a terrible secret on this island. Dr Franklin's "hospital".
Sam Marsh
How many of you have wondered what it would be like to be a bird? I think the freedom of flight must be wonderful. Any of you ever wish you could be an ocean creature? What kind? Why?
That's the premise of this book, Dr. Franklin's Island. A plane full of teens is headed for Equador for a wildlife conservation trip. There's a terrifying plane crash. Only 3 kids survived, washed up on a desert island.
Miranda's the one who seems to take the lead. She's the positive, self-confident, inspiring one.
Arnie's the slacker. He's a dreamer who pretends he doesn't care.
And Semirah is our narrator. She's unsure of herself, has always been a loner. But she admires Miranda a lot.
The island looks deserted. The teens build a shelter, find food and a fresh water source. Things are discouraging, but the kids are surviving. Arnie's trying to build a raft. There's hope. Then Arnie disappears. The girls look in all the usual places. No Arnie. The girls have pretty much given Arnie up for dead when they stumble upon a compound, hidden in the middle of the island. They're immediately discovered and taken by guards to the compound. Their hopes that this is a rescue are quickly demolished when they are imprisoned. Soon they come to a horrible realization. This compound is a research station run by Dr. Franklin. Dr. Franklin is doing genetic research. Dr. Franklin's mad dream is to change humans into a superhuman breed that can mutate from humans to animals at will. Miranda and Semirah are to be Dr. Franklin's next test cases.
The thing is, they DO get to choose what animal they'd like to be. So the question is: do you really want to be a bird? A fish? A victim? An experiment?
Susan Bartel
Ender's Shadow by Orson Scott Card
Bean appeared first on the streets of Rotterdam. He was a tiny child for his age, but his mind more than made up for his physical size. He used his mind to survive rather than his strength, joined a gang, and made it the example for all other gangs in the city. Eventually, he gained the notice and the enmity of Achilles, an older brilliant child with a disposition towards manipulation and control . . . one who would kill anyone who ever saw him in a moment of weakness.
Eventually, Bean came to the notice of Battle School, the interstellar school for child military genius' that were being trained to defeat the "Buggers," the insect-like alien race who threatened the existence of the entire human race. Bean was accepted to Battle School, as was Achilles. Eventually, Bean was forced to subdue his rival and humiliate him to the point that Achilles was thrown out of Battle School.
Bean, meanwhile, became the right hand of "Ender" Wiggin, the "best of the best." and the head of all the generals. Bean was the steadying force behind Ender. He was the one who, despite being the youngest and smallest, always excelled and watched and learned. He was the one who stepped in and led when Ender was too sick and exhausted to lead. It was Bean who understood the truth, who figured out that the 'test' battles were directing real men in real ships who were dying against the Buggers. He was the strategist and may have really been the Best of the Best, always there, always ready to step in at a moment's notice. He was Ender's Shadow.
Sam Marsh
Gingerbread by Rachel Cohn
"My so-called parents hate my boyfriend, Shrimp. I'm not sure they even believe he is my boyfriend. They take one look at his five-foot-five, surfer-shirt-wearin', baggy-jeans-slouchin', Pop Tart-eatin', spiked-hair-head self and you can just see confusion firebombs exploding in their heads, like they are thinking, Oh no, Cyd Charisse, that young man is not your homes.
Dig this: He is."
When Cyd stays out late with Shrimp once too often, her mom and stepdad decide they've had enough - maybe her father can do something with her. So they send her from San Francisco to New York for the summer, to stay with a man she's only met once in her life.
Susan Dunn
Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban by J. K. Rowling
After spending a lonely summer being ignored by his Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, and Cousin Dudley, Harry Potter can hardly wait to begin his third year at Hogwarts. But, in a moment of uncontrolled desperation Potter finds himself alone on the streets of London. How will he get to Hogwarts? Will the Hogwarts Express leave from platform 9 _ without him again like last year? And why does he keep seeing a big black dog with wide gleaming eyes?
The captivating adventures of Harry Potter and his friends Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley continue in J.K Rowling’s third installment of the Harry Potter series. Yet even under the watchful eyes of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry’s Headmaster Professor Dumbledore, Hagrid the Keeper of the Grounds and Keys and new Care of Magical Creatures teacher, and the tired, dowdy, gray faced Professor Lupin the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Potter appears to be in grave danger. The heir apparent to You-Know-Who, Dark Lord-Voldemort, has escaped the dreaded fortress of Azkaban. Convicted of killing wizards and muggles alike, this infamous escapee is now actively seeking out Harry Potter, and the Dementors otherwise known as Death Eaters are actively seeking out him, Sirius Black. Professor Snape the Potions Teacher is fuming mad he didn’t get the Defense Against the Dark Arts post and Potter’s new Divination teacher Professor Trelawney keeps "seeing" his death. Is Harry Potter safe within the protected walls of Hogwarts, the place he considers home? No, because there is a traitor lurking in the corridors and secret hiding places around the castle and grounds!
Old friends and teachers appear to not be themselves, spells are woven, death omens are wearily averted, slimy Slytherins continue their despise for Harry, and gut-wrenching fast-flying Quidditch games are played on the finest broomstick now available, "The Firebolt!" Year three at Hogwarts casts the most exciting, endearing, and enchanting school term yet for Harry Potter!
Karen Kargel
Harry hated summers more than anything. He had to live with his Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia and his awful, multi-chinned cousin Dudley. Although Harry attended the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry, during the summers the Dursleys locked up his spellbooks, wand and broomstick and forbade him to do anything connected with magic. The summer after his 2nd year had caused Harry no end of trouble. Professor Snape, Harry's least favorite Professor, had given Harry a lot of homework to be done over the summer. One assignment was to write an essay on Witch Burning in the 14th century Was Completely Pointless. So, one weekend, Harry retrieved his spell books, quill & parchment so that he could work on his homework at night under the covers where none of the Dursleys would know.
That summer, Aunt Marjorie was going to be paying another of her not so happy (for Harry) visit to the Dursleys, so Uncle Vernon laid out some rules for Harry about her stay. She had been told that Harry was a student at the Brutus Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys. Harry agreed to go along, but only if Uncle Vernon would sign Harry's permission slip to visit Hogmeade on certain weekends when he was at Hogwarts.
Aunt 'Marge' was a large, beefy, purple-faced woman who doted on her little "Dudders." Dudley was a perfect match for her as he had spent the entire summer eating and watching T.V. One of Aunt Marge's favorite activities was comparing Dudley to the skinny, rotten (to her) Harry. Finally, on the last night of her visit, Aunt Marge began talking about how awful Harry's mother and father had been. Harry kept getting madder and madder until suddenly Marge stopped talking and started to bulge and float up toward the ceiling. Before anyone could stop him, Harry ran to the locked cupboard, opened the door (magically), grabbed his trunk, ran upstairs, threw his books and wands in the trunk and ran out into the street. What a fix! Harry had just done some serious magic...not allowed to students outside of Hogwarts...and he was certain to be expelled. Where could he go?!
Then, he felt something watching him from the shadows. Something big and black with gleaming eyes. Just as Harry fell over his trunk in surprise, a triple-decker bus appeared out of thin air. Harry boarded the bus and headed to London. On the way, he picked up a newspaper and read about the most infamous prisoner ever to be held at the Azkaban Fortress, one Sirius Black who had murdered 13 people in the Muggle world with a single curse. Black was a supporter of "you know who (Lord Voldemort)." (It was a magical bus after all.)
When Harry got off the bus at Diagon Alley, he ran smack into the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge. Rather than expelling Harry, the minister told Harry that the Reversal Department had been dispatched to puncture Aunt Marge and modify her memory. Harry was allowed to spend the last 2 weeks of vacation at the Leaky Cauldron. Harry couldn't believe it!! He wasn't going to even be punished! Why?! Regardless, he thoroughly enjoyed his two weeks of freedom from the Dursleys. The day before the return to Hogwarts, Harry ran into Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger and had a lovely dinner with all the Weasleys.
In bed that night, Harry heard Ron's parents arguing over why Cornelius Fudge had not warned Harry about Sirius Black and his pursuit of Harry. Apparently, Black believed that "you know who" would come to power again if Harry were dead. Would Harry live through his 3rd year at Hogwarts despite the Prisoner of Azkaban?
Marilyn Bunker
The Healer's Keep by Victoria Hanley
I had to run. There was no choice. Lord Morlen was evil!! Yes, slaves were commonly scared to mark them as such, but Evan was not Lord Morlen's to mark. He belonged to my master, and when Morlen grabbed Evan and sliced his face, Maeve fled, Crying for Orlo who had interrupted the powerful lord at his task.
In retaliation, Morlen had forced Lord Indol to sell both Evan and me to him. Luckily, I overheard the conversation and was able to remain out of their sight. When they left, I entered the room, forced open the chest where Lord Indol had placed our purchase price, appropriated it, and hurried to my mother, Lila.
Lila refused to leave with me, saying that her life was nearly at an end and that she had only held back death to see me one more time. She had made me a dress fit for royalty from bits and pieces of scraps. A dress that I could wear once out of Lord Indol's estate and pass as a free person.
My father she told me (I never had known anything about my father) was a Dreamwen, one who could walk through dreams, visit other realms, aid the dying and heal the minds of the living. The lords had hunted them nearly to extinction in their quest for power, so the remaining Dreamwen had taken refuge among the lowborn free.
Morlen, on the other hand, was an Ebrowen, one who could invade the dreams of anyone whose eyes they have looked into and learn everything the dreamer knows. Morlen had fallen into the ways of evil, and had looked into my eyes.
My only hope was a family treasure, the Dreamwen Stone which would protect the bearer of the stone from invasion by an Ebrowen. My father had left the stone for my mother who told me where and how to find it. We hugged goodbye one last time.
Then, I gathered up my things, told Matron Jill that Morlen had sent me for Evan, and escaped from the estate with him. Now, all I had to do was retrieve the Dreamwen Stone, hope that it would protect Evan's dreams as well as my own all while traveling through a countryside that would be on the lookout for the two of us.
Sam Marsh
House of the Scorpion by Nancy Farmer
In the Beginning, there were 36 of them, 36 droplets of life so tiny that Eduardo could see them only under a microscope. Water bubbled through tubes that snaked around the warm humid wall. Air was sucked into growth chambers. A dull red light shone on Eduardo's face as he scanned the glass dishes, each containing a drop of life. As Eduardo scanned the dishes with a microscope, the cells seemed perfect. Each furnished with all it needed to grow, so much knowledge hidden in that tiny world. Even Eduardo was awed. The cell already knew what color hair it was to have, how tall it would become, and even whether it preferred spinach or broccoli. It might even have a desire for music or crossword puzzles. All of that was hidden in that tiny droplet of life.
The round outlines quivered and lines appeared, dividing the cells into two, Eduardo sighed and thought that it was going to be all right. As he watched the samples grow, he moved them to the incubator. But something about the food, or the heat, or the light was wrong and Eduardo didn’t know what it was. Soon half of them died, and now there were only 15. Eduardo had cold lump in his stomach. If he failed he would be sent to the Farms and then what would become of Anna and the children and his father who was so old.
Lisa, a senior lab technician said, “It’s OK. The cells were frozen over a 100 years ago. They can’t be as healthy as samples taken yesterday. Some of them will grow.” For a month everything went well. The day came that they implanted the tiny embryos in the brood cows. The cows lined up patiently waiting. They were fed by tubes, their bodies were exercised by giant metal arms that flexed their legs as though they were walking through endless fields. Perhaps the cows hated what had been done to them, because one by one the infants, no larger than a minnow died, until there was only one. That infant grew until it was clearly a being with arms and legs and a sweet dreaming face. Eduardo looked through the scanners and said, “You hold my life in your hands.” Then the day came, the cow gave birth to the baby, Eduardo grabbed for the needle that would blunt its intelligence. Lisa stopped him saying, “Don’t fix that one, It’s a Matteo Alacrán. They’re always left intact. Eduardo wondered, “ Have I done you a favor. Will you thank me for it later?
Marilyn Bunker
How to Disappear Completely and Never Be Found by Sara Nickerson
Wouldn’t you want to know what really happened to your dad—a champion swimmer who mysteriously drowned? Could you sneak inside an abandoned mansion, on an isolated beach, in the dark of night to hunt for clues? Shouldn’t you tell someone about Ratt, Volume I, that’s not really a comic, the weird librarian, and the lonely boy who seem to know more than they will reveal? Margaret asks herself these questions and more, yet perseveres in the dangerous search for the truth in How to Disappear Completely and Never Be Found by Sara Nickerson.
Marge Erickson Freeburn
Most stories start at the beginning, but I really can’t say I know where that is. Is it in a falling-down mansion on a small island in the Pacific Northwest, or in a navy-blue pickup truck making its way to that mansion? Does it start on a sunny day this year, or a sunny day twenty years before? Is it with me or with a young boy, who a long, long time ago, believed he was turning into a rat? I guess the only thing I do know is where it started for me - in that navy blue pick-up truck heading toward a place I didn’t know existed. A place that had already changed my life.
My name is my Margaret Clairmont. I have always known that my family is a little weird. There is my Mother Lizzie, she sleeps when she isn’t at work, and my sister Sophie, who is always doing the Hardest Jigsaw Puzzle Ever Made. You get some kind of certificate if you ever finish. My father died three years ago. We don’t ever talk about my father, unless my Mother isn’t there. There was something very strange about my Father’s death. He was a champion swimmer, and he drowned. I have a lot of questions, but Lizzie, I mean my Mother will not talk about it. The only time that we ever go anywhere is on Saturday. Sophie calls it Family Fun Day, I call it Bare Minimum for Survival Day. About three o’clock every Saturday, we gather up our dirty clothes and go to the Laundromat. After we get the clothes into the dryer, we walk a block and a half to the grocery store. We always buy two loaves of bread, two boxes of cereals, milk, bananas, chips, peanut butter and jelly, 6 frozen pizzas two bags of tater tots and 6 microwave bean burritos. Then we walk back to the Laundromat and get our clothes and go home. That had been our life for years. Well one Sunday, after Lizzie, I mean my Mom got up from her morning and afternoon naps, she looked at us, and said, “Get your shoes! Get your shoes and jackets!
Soon, we were all in the navy blue pick-up and headed somewhere. We saw a sign for a ferry and soon we were on the ferry. In the back of the truck was a sign that said FOR SALE BY OWNER. We had no idea what we were doing or where we were going. We drove up to a huge old house. It was like a palace, but one that was under a dark spell. There was another ordinary house right next door that looked like it had been plucked from a regular housing development. But we drove into the driveway, and Sophie and I wanted to move in right away. Lizzie, er Mom, lit her cigarette, and said, “Take that sign and put it in the middle of the yard, and write our phone number on the bottom with this marker.” I honestly tried to get it in the ground but the ground was too hard. I wanted to explore a little, but Sophie got in trouble by going too close to the water. So after Sophie was stuck back in the truck, while Lizzie stomped around. She sent me to the back of the house to get a shovel. I just wanted a peek inside this strange house. The back door was opened just a crack and I stepped inside. It was packed floor to ceiling with things. Things you think about and things you don’t, things that make up the world. There were wooden pickle barrels, rusted gates, tools to fix a car, tools to fix a tooth, tools to build a house. There were bicycle horns, and balls of string, and at least a dozen different mannequin hands, all with chipped red nail polish. There were stubs of candles and old-fashioned ruffled dresses, and doll heads with missing hair, and baby bottles, cans of food without labels, garbage sacks full of toilet paper. I could have stayed on that porch for days. I took a step forward, tripped over a box of old encyclopedias, and rusty fishing poles and then looked down at an old wooden crate that I had crashed through. And that’s when I saw it, a package that was addressed to Elizabeth Clairmont, (MY MOTHER). Someone had sent this to my Mother. I had to see what was inside. I stuffed it in my jeans and under my sweatshirt. And I took it home. What was in it?
A Key, A champion’s swimming medal, and A graphic novel entitled Ratt Volume 1.
You will need to read How TO Completely Disappear and Never Be Found to find out what it all means!!
Marilyn Bunker
The Hunting of the Last Dragon by Sherryl Jordan
"You should have given it to me," Addy said.
"Given you what?'
"Your old bow."
I threatened to give it to her with an arrow...stuck where she didn't want it.
"You can't," she said. I saw you throw it in the duck pond. Why?"
"It was useless and never would shoot straight."
"I doubt that was the bow's fault, Jude," said my mother. "You should have sold it."I hadn't thought of that until AFTER I threw it in the river. But, I had saved enough money for a new bow and new arrows at Rokeby the next day. And, so I left the next morning for town. But, it was not a happy time. Thornhill was razed to the ground the evening before My father's brother, wife and ten offspring along with it. Everything was destroyed and burned for miles around. None survived. No footprint, no soldiers seen, no arrows in those who tried to flee. Just burned beyond recognition.
"Fire fell from the skies," said my grandfather. "It was a pestilence, a judgement from the almighty."
"There's another kind of death," said my father. "...Fire and smoke from hell itself."
They were talking about dragons. But all the dragons had been killed off over 70 years ago. But, the fear was back. What if...
The next day I went to town. I purchased my bow and arrows as planned, and then found a fair on the village green. I wandered until I saw the swordsman's pavilion, and paid a coin to see the performance. He held the sword blade upright, then swung it down, around and in a circle, faster and faster. Then it flew up high...but he caught it as it came down.
He needed a man, brave and steadfast, unafraid to meet death. No one moved, except to look at their feet or to whisper to their wives. Then, his gaze lighted on me and I became his 'brave' man. He had me lift the sword which, with its weight, was no small feat. Then he took me to the center of the stage, had me tuck my elbows against my belt, and told me to stand still...to not move a muscle. I froze and heard the whirring of the blade, slow then fast. I felt a lock of my hair as it fell to the floor, then another, and another...until, he was finished.
When he was done, Tybalt praised my bravery to the crowd and had them applaud me. I was proud, but not too proud, more scared to death to move, I'd been.
I saw one more show while I was there. A tiny little creature with the smallest feet I'd ever seen on a human. Then, I headed home to Doran, practicing with my new bow. I shot at a hare, but the wind was stronger than I imagined and I hit a hill. The road seemed longer, and it was sunset when I began the final climb to home.
My head down to watch for ruts, I smelled smoke before I saw it. Disbelief and then fear shot through me. I ran up the hill in terror to find Doran was no more. Burned bare just as was Thornhill. Nothing but ash and glowing embers, and smoke, and the stink...
Fire from the sky.
Sam Marsh
Lady Knight by Tamora Pierce
In this fourth and final book in the Protector of the Small series, Keladry of Mindelan has finally become a knight despite many who have sought to keep her from her goal. Like all of the other squires, Kel had to pass through the Chamber of the Ordeal as her final test. She succeeded, and was then knighted. Unlike the other Knights however, Kel was shown a second vision before the Chamber released her – the vision of a small, unkempt man, the terrifying killing machines he created, and piles of dead children. “This is your task” the Chamber tells her. “It will find you. When it does, fix it.”
Several times each week since then the Chamber has sent her this vision during the night. Kel knows she must put a stop to the man, whom she has begun to call “the Nothing Man”, but has no idea who he is or where to find him. Her efforts are thwarted before she can even begin her search when Tortallan forces, including Kel, are sent to defend the northern border. Kel is now bound to stay and fight – she can’t sneak off and find her quarry.
Worse yet, Kel, who is anxious to see battle and worried that her commanders will try and protect the “Lady Knight” by giving her a position behind the lines, receives a most unusual assignment. At only 18 years of age she is to command a refugee camp near the front lines. There will be 700 men, women and children whose homes have been destroyed by the raiders. Kel will only have a small band of soldiers to help defend the camp – and half of them are convicts who have only signed on to get out of prison. Torn between her natural tendencies to help those in need, and her terrible nightly visions, Kel must find a way to fulfill both of her obligations before it’s too late.
The darkest of Pierce’s books yet, readers can see the events of September 11, which occurred while the author was in the middle of the story, reflected in the horrors of the war in Tortall.
Susan Dunn
Once Upon a Marigold by Jean Ferris
In Once Upon a Marigold by Jean Ferris, the reader learns about the lives, abilities, politics, and traditions of trolls, the hazards of a world governed by too many rules, and that an ambitious mother can be as dangerous as a wicked step-mother. All the anticipated elements of the fantasy fairy tale are here, but a humorous twist makes this a more thought-provoking and entertaining read than most “happily ever after “ romances.
Marge Erickson Freeburn
My dad is a troll. Well, he’s not my real dad, but he found me hiding in the forest when I was just a little guy. I’d run away from home. I knew my name was Christian, but all I knew about my parents was that their names were Father and Mother, and Ed couldn’t figure out how to return me to my real home without getting himself into a lot of trouble. So he took me in, got to liking me, and raised me in his cave in the forest, along with the dogs, Bub and Cate. Ed’s big passion in life is trying to convince the members of the LEFT Association (LEFT stands for Leprechauns, Elves, Fairies, and Trolls) that Queen Mab’s tooth fairy monopoly should be broken up. Queen Mab is just unbelievably bad at reading maps, is forgetful and overworked.
We live in King Swithbert’s kingdom. He’s a decent sort. Mostly concerned with keeping folks in his kingdom happy. The one person in his kingdom who’s the most difficult to please is his wife, Queen Olympia. She’s a control freak, wanting to increase her power by marrying her 4 princesses to the right princes, in order to expand her sphere of influence. The three blond triplets were easily married to the right guys. This only left Queen Olympia with the troubling problem of Princess Marigold. For one thing, a fairy had given as a birth-gift to Marigold the gift of sensitivity to the thoughts and feelings of others. The birth fairy overdid it, however, so that Marigold can actually know the thoughts of others just by touching them. So the gift turned out to be a curse because very few people wanted to touch Marigold. Certainly her mother never touched her. And this meant very few eligible suitors could be found for Marigold.
How do I know all this? Well, I’ve been watching! I’m an inventor of sorts. I’ve invented an elevator which delivers water to the cave from the river, and boomerang arrows (kind of handy when you miss your target), rutabaga parfaits (that one didn’t go over so well), a telescope, and p-mail. What’s p-mail, you ask? Well, pigeon-mail, of course. I’ve spent a lot of my time using my telescope to watch the castle which is across the river from our cave. I know all about King Swithbert, Queen Olympia, and the three triplets. But most of all, I watch Marigold. I feel like I know Marigold. I see that no one but King Swithbert ever touches her. I feel that she’s lonely and unhappy. And I want to get her know better.
So I devised a little canister that fits on Walter the pigeon’s leg, and I trained Walter to fly to a destination, wait for a reply and fly home again. Now Marigold and I have been communicating via p-mail. We both love Greek myths, we trade bad jokes, and I hear all about her attempts to foil Queen Olympia’s attempts to marry her to one horrible suitor after another. But this can’t go on forever. Soon Queen Olympia will succeed. She’s determined to have Marigold out of her way. I’m not sure there’s anything I can do, but it’s time for me to try.
With lots of mixed feelings and none of us knowing what to say or do, I leave Ed and the dogs, cross the river and take a job as a squire, working in the stables at the castle. Now I’m close to Marigold, King Swithbert, and Queen Olympia. And things are worse than I thought. Queen Olympia really is willing to do anything, even bump off her own family, to have her way.
Susan Bartel
Scribbler of Dreams by Mary E. Pearson
High school senior, Kaitlin Malone, has had a difficult year. Her father is in prison for involuntary manslaughter, the family is in danger of losing their farm, and now she must begin her senior year at a new school. And not just any school, this school is on Crutchfield land.
The Crutchfields and the Malones have been enemies for generations. Their hatred for each other runs deep and when Kaitlin’s father is involved with the death of a Crutchfield, their mutual loathing intensifies. Kaitlin is miserable at her new school until she meets Bram. To escape the lunchroom, Kaitlin spends time in the courtyard writing in her journal. One day an attractive young man carrying a sketchbook interrupts her solitude. They finally meet when Bram shows Kaitlin the sketch he has made of her. Kaitlin finds herself falling in love with Bram and his feelings for her seem equally as strong. Trouble begins again when Kaitlin discovers that Bram is a Crutchfield.
Kaitlin knows she is supposed to hate the Crutchfields but she can’t make herself stop seeing Bram. She longs to tell him who she is, but she fears his reaction. When her father comes home from prison and finds out what is happening, Kaitlin knows it is time to tell Bram whom she really is.
Maida Finch
Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson
I am an outcast.
My first day of high school and I can see, as we are herded into the auditorium for orientation, that I don’t fit in. Everyone else falls into a clan – you know, a clique; THE JOCKS, THE CHEERLEADERS, FUTURE FASCISTS OF AMERICA, GOTHS, …well, you get the idea.
Me? I am clanless…I have entered high school with the wrong hair, the wrong clothes, and definitely the wrong attitude. No one will speak to me.
I am an outcast.
The orientation begins with “the rules” – All lies!
#1. We are here to help you!
#2. You will have enough time to get to your classes between bells.
#3. The dress code will be enforced.
#4. No smoking is allowed on school grounds.
#5. Our football team will win the championship.
#6. We expect more of you here.
#7. Guidance counselors are always available to listen.
#8 Your schedule was created with your needs in mind.
#9. Your locker combination is private.
#10. These will be the years you will look back on most fondly.Yeah, right! Fondly. NOT.
I didn’t want high school to start out this way – it just sort of happened. I’m not used to failing classes. I don’t skip school. I talk. I have friends.
Not any more.
It all started at that end-of-the-summer party. Big deal, that party. Rachel and I were pretty excited about going to a high school party.
Now, they all blame me – they blame me for calling the cops and closing down the party. Even Rachel hates me.
I am an outcast.
No one knows the truth about that night. No one CARES to know the truth. I don’t know the truth - can’t face the truth, anyway.
So, I get a brilliant idea … if they won’t talk to me, then I won’t talk to them! I’ll just retreat. Yes, I’ll retreat into that old janitor’s closet I found on Senior Hall. No one will find me there. The closet is abandoned – it has no purpose, no name…. Perfect, for me. There, I can think.
Problem is, I don’t want to think. I fainted in biology class the other day and hit my head on the table. I was really worried… Worried when the doctor looked into the back of my eyes with a bright light. Could she read the thoughts hidden there? What will she do? Call the cops? Send me to the nuthouse?
Can’t they understand that the whole point of NOT talking about it, of silencing the memory, is to make it go away. IT won’t. I’ll need brain surgery to cut IT out of my head.
IT is my nightmare … and I can’t wake up.
Bonnie Phinney
Stargirl by Jerry Spinelli
I’d like you to think about what would happen if this person showed up at ______________.
Her name is Stargirl. That’s not her real name, they say she gave herself the name. She dresses however the spirit moves: it might be in a pioneer-style dress; it might be in bright red overalls. She carries a ukelele with her and sings during lunchtime. If it’s your birthday, you’ll be PERSONALLY serenaded. She carries her pet mouse Cinnamon in her backpack with her. Before each class period she covers her desk with a lovely tablecloth and a vase with a daisy in it. So whaddya think? What would be the reaction of you and your friends?
Leo, who’s the 16-year-old narrator of this book says his school’s reaction could be summed up in one word … HUH? Here’s his description of Stargirl:
She laughed when there was no joke. She danced when there was no music.
She had no friends, yet she was the friendliest person in school.
In her answers in class, she often spoke of sea horses and stars, but she did not know what a football was.
She was elusive. She was today. She was tomorrow. She was the faintest scent of a cactus flower, the flitting shadow of an elf owl. We did not know what to make of her. In our minds we tried to pin her to a corkboard like a butterfly, but the pin merely went through and away she flew.The interesting thing was, Stargirl’s enthusiasm began to make her popular. So the cheerleaders asked her to join the squad. Do you think Stargirl fit the mold of a cheerleader? No, of course not. And things began to turn against Stargirl again. You know why? She cheered for both sides. And when games were close and important games were on the line, this didn’t go over well at all.
So Leo, our narrator, is totally and completely confused, because you know what? He’s finding himself quite attracted to Stargirl. On the one hand he wants her to be more normal, so she’ll fit in with everyone else, and so he can hang out with her and not feel the accusatory stares of his friends. But Stargirl’s unpredictable spirit is who she is – it’s what makes her Stargirl. Leo’s torn – he really likes Stargirl, but the opinion of his friends matter to him a lot.
What to do with Stargirl…
What would you do with Stargirl?
What do you imagine happens to Stargirl?
Susan Bartel
I'm Leo…Leo Borlock. I started collecting Porcupine ties when I was little and my uncle Pete gave me his when we moved from Pennsylvania to Arizona. I have two now…I mean, how many porcupine neckties are there anyway?!
It was on my first day of school in eleventh grade that Mica Area High School encountered Stargirl. We were NOT a hotbed of nonconformity. Anyone who somehow mistakenly distinguishes themselves quickly snaps back into place, like rubber bands.
Hillari said Stargirl was fake…a plant by the administration, or some such. Everyone at Mica wore pretty much the same clothes, talked the same way, ate the same stuff, etc. Not Stargirl. Normal for her were long, floor-brushing pioneer dresses and skirts. She was as likely to show up in a flapper dress, kimono, buckskin, or miniskirt with green stockings with ladybug and butterfly pins crawling up one leg.
She always had her ukulele at lunch and often serenaded someone with "Happy Birthday" with it. She said "Hello" to perfect strangers in the halls, asked questions in class (whether or not they had anything to do with the subject), carried her pet rat to school in her canvas bag, danced in the rain, ran cross-country until she got kick off the team for running the wrong way. She was just weird. We couldn't define her. She was uncomfortable. She couldn't be real. We couldn't let her be real.
My buddy Kevin and I wanted to sign her up for Hot Seat, our in-school TV show. I was producer/director and Kevin was the host. Each month we interviewed a different student…always the model citizen type, but not really interesting. Stargirl was something else. She would definitely get our ratings up. The only problem was that Kevin was convinced that she was fake and his plan was to EXPOSE her on our show. Matter of fact, Kevin WANTED her to be a fake.
But, I knew somehow, that she wasn't a fake. She never made the show. She did, however, make the cheerleading squad. After a basically hilarious performance at one of our poorly attended halftime shows, she was asked by blond, beautiful Mallory Stillwell to become a cheerleader. She agreed. Eventually, she even wore her uniform. But, she was never truly a cheerleader, simply Stargirl dressed up like one. She still did her weird things, but we were beginning to decide that we liked having her around. She entertained us and gave us something to look forward to in our dull conformist world.
Then came Hillari's birthday. The day before, Hillari told Stargirl in the lunchroom that she didn't want Stargirl singing to her. "I won't sing to you," said Stargirl. Yep, true to her word, Stargirl didn't sing Happy Birthday TO Hillari. No, she sang the words and used Hillari's name, but she sang it to ME.
Kevin's the one that asked her what everyone was thinking: "Why him?" Stargirl looked at me mischievously while tilting her head, tugged my earlobe and said, "He's cute."
Sam Marsh
Stetson by S.L. Rottman
It was NOT a day to remember. I had taken a dare/bet to earn ten badly needed dollars, promising to get us out of a end of period quiz. Unfortunately, the first-year, smiley-faced Ms. Pepper had taken my antics harder then I'd anticipated. I guess the dead mouse I left on her desk must have sealed it.
I stopped at the office on my way out, and as Mr. Johnson was in a meeting I told Mrs. Beard that I was suspending myself for the rest of the day and the next and that I'd meet with the principal at 8:00 when I got back the day after that.
I went over to Jason's Salvage Yard where I worked in my 'spare' time and started stripping the latest additions to the lot down to their component sellable parts. Jason was the closest thing I had to a parent...or friend. I was pretty much a loner, and liked it that way.
My mom left when I was little, and I never heard from her since. Dad did his best to take care of me, but the older I got, the less his best became. He had degenerated from a laughing, caring parent into a drunken slob with matching beergut. We had a big fight after he got trashed at Mac Gregor's celebrating my first day of junior high and threw up on me. That was the climax, and he hasn't done anything positive since.
He never finished school and it bugs him that I'm still going and may actually graduate. He's been trying to get me to quit and work full time with him at the mill. I'm the one who buys the groceries. His money all goes for beer.
Then, there's my car. I got it two years ago and spend every spare minute and penny on it. Its almost totally reconstructed, and I won't let dad touch it and won't drive it myself until I'm finished. It drives dad nuts. Of course, he hasn't had a license for some time with his drinking problem.
Today, Jason has a Honda civic with a full set of good wheels that he knows I've been searching for my car. He tells me that when I've finished with the four new cars, I can have the wheels. After finishing two of them, its time to head home, so I set off with two of them for the day's pay. Jason offers me a ride, but I know its out of his way, and I don't mind the exercise.
I notice that John Stevens's truck is parked between the shed and trailer, meaning dad probably borrowed it for something. Then, I hear dad's bellow, demanding that I get in the trailer. After setting the wheels inside the shed and relocking it, I head into the trailer. I stop in surprise as I enter the trailer. The curtains, always shut, are wide open and the room is actually somewhat clean. And, there is a girl in a t-shirt and miniskirt sitting on the sofa.
"I'm Kayla. Who are you."
"I'm Stet."
"Stetson," dad corrects.
"Why are you here?"
"My mother died last week. No one else would take me."
Yeah, I was sorry about her mother, but "...why are you here?"
Dad's smirking, enjoying the show.
"So Dad came and got me this morning and brought me back here."
"...that makes her your sister," Dad says.I have a sister??!!
Sam Marsh
Stetson was in a desperate situation. His alcoholic father gave him no financial or emotional support, his mother had abandoned him 14 years earlier, and he was quickly alienating anyone at school who could have helped him. He thought he wanted to graduate, but wouldn’t or couldn’t get the homework done. Maybe the GED was his only chance after the “prank for pay” he pulled in Ms. Pepper’s class was defined as sexual harassment and grounds for expulsion.
Could his life get worse? Yes, Kayla arrived. No one knew that Mom was pregnant when she left. After her death, Kayla had no where else to go. She needed a family, a parent who could enroll her in school, feed, protect and guide her, but all she had was Stet and his irresponsible Dad.
The only positive thing in Stet’s life was his part-time job at the salvage yard. Tearing apart wrecked cars for parts gave him something to do, some cash, a, his boss and friend Jason, and the resources for building his own car from parts.
S.L. Rottman draws strong characters in Stet, Kayla, and Jason. Stet’s problems are realistic. Stet seems like a loser, but Rottman moves the reader from disdain to admiration for his strength and determination as he struggles to overcome adversity.
Marge Erickson Freeburn
Strangers and Beggars by James Van Pelt
"What really tickles me, though, is that none of you young men think of the woman," the wizard remarked.
"Excuse me?" I said.
"The woman might already love the man." Both the man and woman might pay, he explained, or two men might both want the love of the same woman. There was one instance where two men came back nine times for the same woman. After giving up all their fingers (the price included a sacrifice of a finger as well as gold after all), one of them even gave up his arm.
"What of HER free will?" I asked the wizard.
He paused in honing his blade. "You don't know much about love."
"I want my gold back."
And got it, less the consulting fee.
"...when you fell in love with her, where was your free will?" he remarked as I rose. "I'll always be here, boy. You won't be the first to come back a second time."He was wrong. He hadn't seen that extra instant when our eyes met that afternoon. He was wrong!?
Sam Marsh
Telling Christina Goodbye by Lurlene McDaniel
On the way home from a basketball game one night the two couples are driving on a deserted country road. Suddenly another car filled with teenagers comes up behind them, riding their bumper. Tucker slows down and the car passes them, then slows down so Tucker has to as well. Annoyed, Tucker speeds up to try and pass them, and the next thing Trisha knows she lying in the snow, dazed and in shock. The car stereo is blaring and she can’t find her friends.
For most of high school now it’s been the four of them – best friends Trisha and Christina, and their boyfriends Cody and Tucker. Lately however, it’s been getting harder and harder for Trisha to tolerate the way Tucker treats her friend. He gets angry when Christina talks to other guys, he wants her to spend all of her free time with him, and worst of all he is trying to talk Christina out of attending an out-of-state college that has offered her a scholarship because then they’ll be apart. The week before Valentine’s Day Trisha finds out that Tucker is planning to ask Christina to marry him. To her it’s not a romantic ideal however, but more of a trick on Tucker’s part to keep Christina close by, and she hopes Christina can see through it.
Unfortunately, Tucker never gets the chance to propose. On the way home from a basketball game one night the four of them are involved in a terrible car accident. Trisha is injured, Cody is in a coma and Christina is killed. Trisha and Christina have been best friends since seventh grade. They never imagined life without the other in it. And now Trisha is without Cody as well. Lonely, devastated and still in shock, the survivors struggle to put their lives back together.
Susan Dunn
©2003 Colorado Blue Spruce Book Award
Last updated: April 12, 2003