It’s shiny and attractive. They had good graphic designers working on this series, and they include lots of bright color photos so that if you just pick it up and flip through the pages it looks like it’s going to be really interesting. But it’s not. It’s got all the basic information. But it reads like a textbook, with absolutely no effort put into the writing in terms of making any of this information sound interesting, let alone enchanting, as the series title claims.
Author Archives: Courtney Morgan
Thailand
It’s shiny and attractive. They had good graphic designers working on this series, and they include lots of bright color photos so that if you just pick it up and flip through the pages it looks like it’s going to be really interesting. But it’s not. It’s got all the basic information. But it reads like a textbook, with absolutely no effort put into the writing in terms of making any of this information sound interesting, let alone enchanting, as the series title claims.
My Bedtime Monster
According to the flap on the back of the dust jacket, both author and illustrator are award-winners in their fields. But picture books depend upon the story and the illustrations supporting each other and enhancing each other, but in this case they don’t. The pictures really don’t seem to even fit the story. The story’s not bad on its own. It opens with a little girl describing her perfect pet to her parents (soft and cuddly and quick and strong, able to both fly and swim, able to shrink so small it can hide anywhere, and also to grow big enough to protect her). After her parents tell her such a pet does not exist, she goes to bed and meets her perfect pet, and enjoys a whole night of adventures with it. The illustrations, though kind of cool in their own right, don’t fit the story: when the words say the creature is soft and cuddly, it looks rather sharp and geometric; when the words describe it’s sparkling eyes, the illustrations don’t support that, the wings that are described as broad and beautiful appear rather small and stubby.
Fire and Ice
If you are going to buy it for your library, you’ve got to be prepared to buy the whole series, and warn your patrons that this is most definitely the kind of series that one really needs to read in order. This book alone does not stand on its own feet — it’s more like a mid-season episode of a TV series. The reader who picks this up to read without having read the earlier books must constantly work at piecing together what’s going on, always well aware that there’s more they don’t know. That being said, the action is good, the themes of good v. evil (and trying to figure out which is which) are good, the characters seem likeable (though not terribly well-developed in this title alone).
Fish in a Tree
The characters are likable and believable, and facing issues a lot of kids would relate to: feeling dumb because of school struggles. For the kids who can’t personally relate, this book is the kind of story that will give them insight into struggles that others face, and help them develop empathy. The one element of the story that I, as a teacher, did not find believable was that Ally, a fifth grader, has up until now managed to keep all of the adults in her life from knowing that she can’t read. Though there might have been a time when students could hide such things by acting out like Ally does, our educational world has become so driven by testing data, that there’s no way she would now be in a new school for even a month without someone conducting a reading fluency test. But kids aren’t going to clue into that, and many may like to think that others are in the dark. The best thing about this book is that it makes it really clear that Ally is smart, despite her dyslexia.
A Plague of Bogles
It’s the second book in a series (and by the looks of things, the middle book of a trilogy), but it reads decently, even if one hasn’t read the first book. It’s obvious to the reader that there is history among the characters, which might encourage someone who likes this one to go back and read the other, but there’s enough explanation offered so that this book stands okay on its own, without leaving the reader constantly trying to fill holes to figure out what’s going on. It’s set in late-nineteenth-century London. The main character, Jem, is a young boy on his own, trying to make his way in the world however he can. Jem becomes aware that there’s been a rash of children going missing, all within the same neighborhood, and he enlists the help of expert bogler, Alfred, dragging him out of retirement, and offering his services as bogler’s boy, which basically translates as bogle bait. The team must put themselves in danger and figure out why there have been so many bogles in such close quarters (apparently highly unusual behavior for bogles) in order to save the city from this plague. It’s engaging, and just scary enough.
Draw What You See: the life and art of Benny Andrews
This is a wonderfully inspiring picture-book biography about following one’s dreams. Born in the midst of the great depression in the to a family of southern farm workers, Benny dreamed of moving out into the wider world, but in the meantime he used his art to capture the daily world around him. Knowing finishing high school would be an important part of escaping his current circumstances, Benny he remained dedicated to his education. Military service after high school first gave him an opportunity to travel, and then allowed him to continue his college education, and throughout he continued to use his art to capture daily life, and given the times in which he lived, it became a force in the civil rights movement.
Pirate Treasure
As early-reader non-fiction goes, this one does a pretty decent job of providing a reasonable amount of information while keeping the readability easy. Like other Pebble Plus non-fiction, this one offers 3-4 sentences per page, opposite full-page color illustrations. This one accurately recognizes pirate treasure as stolen goods, not romanticizing the pirates, but acknowledging the lure it has held for many over the years. The illustrations are partially historical artwork of the time, and partly color photos of historical recreations.
Sarah and Simon and No Red Paint
It’s a sweet story, in a somewhat vintage sort of way. It tells the story of the family of an impoverished artist. Having fallen out with his wealthy uncle who wanted him to go into business, the young artist and his family struggle to get by, his small children helping out the local book shop owner in exchange for being allowed to sit and read his inventory. Just when their father is about to finish his masterpiece, and has a buyer all lined up for it if he can finish by the next day, he runs out of red paint, and the local art dealer won’t extend him any more credit. Wanting to help, but coming up short, the children sit in the book shop bemoaning their family’s troubles, little knowing they are being overheard by another gentleman in the shop, who just happens to be the long-estranged wealthy uncle, who has had a change of heart, so the needed red paint shows up as the gift of an anonymous benefactor just in time. The problem is that this is a reprint of a book originally published before color illustrations were common, and I doubt many children today will appreciate the sketchy brown-tone illustrations.
After the Bell Rings: poems about after-school time
It’s cute. It’s a series of poems centered around the theme of student down-time, hobbies, homework, and friendships — all topics students will relate to. The illustrations are cute and cartoonish and inviting. It offers a fun, non-threatening way to share poetry with children.