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The Strange Case of Origami Yoda by Tom Angleberger

Oct13

The Strange Case of Origami Yoda is soooooo sixth grade/middle school. I felt as if I were transported back in time to my sixth grade year. Yes, there were guys like Dwight who did weird stuff. Dwight carries a talking origami Yoda around on his finger, and Origami Yoda answers questions and gives advice—in strange Yoda-like syntax. “New one must you make.” “Rush in fools do.”

Yes, there were guys (and girls) in my sixth grade like Tommy and Harvey who argued about silly things and became totally involved in investigating ridiculous phenomena. The book is actually Tommy’s “case file” in which he attempts to gather all the evidence to decide whether Origami Yoda is real or just Dwight pretending. When I was in sixth grade, we spent a lot of time trying to figure out whether our sixth grade teacher left in the middle of the year because we drove her insane and sent her to a mental institution.

And yes, sixth grade was full of embarrassing situations, strange obsessions, and awkward situations. In fact, I can admit it here for the first time: I was a little weird when I was in sixth grade. I think, if I remember correctly, I carried a large doll to the sixth grade skating party and dared anyone to laugh or call me a baby.

I have mixed feelings about this book. On the one hand the idea of a bunch of middle school kids putting their faith in the oracles of an origami finger puppet is so ridiculous and superstitious and sort of sad. On the other hand, when I was a kid, a good church kid, my friends and I did many things just as ridiculous. We used “cootie catchers” to answer questions about life and love. We tried out a Ouija board. We sort of, kind of, believed that if you took off the Vietnam POW (prisoner of war) bracelet that you agreed to wear until the POW came home that he never would be released.

It’s kind of like Halloween. As a Christian parent, I don’t think there’s anything harmful or wrong about dressing up in costumes and going trick or treating around the neighborhood. Harmless fun. But I wouldn’t want my urchins to get caught up in the more occult aspects of the Halloween holiday, playing witches and chanting spells and believing that Satan has some kind of extra power on Halloween. Reading about and even playing around with or making your own Origami Yoda is similar. Harmless fun, unless my kids actually started believing that Origami Yoda could give them guidance for their lives. That’s where I’d draw the line.

Bottom line: good book, guy book, funny book with a lighthearted moral: sometimes you’ve got to believe and go for it. Ignore the naysayers.

Just don’t take the whole “believe in Yoda and the Force” thing too seriously. Oh, by the way, there are instructions for making your own Origami Yoda in the back of the book. I think Karate Kid’s going to make me one.

The Strange Case of Origami Yoda has been nominated for the 2010 Cybils Award in the category of Middle Grade Fiction.

The Fences Between Us by Kirby Larson

Oct12

true-blue, in a dither, mind your own beeswax, old battle-ax, can it, the hoosegow, a good egg, bushed, conniption fit, scuttlebutt, shut-eye, cock-eyed, tough cookie, chitchat, discombobulated, peaked, dreamboat, triple whammy, in a funk, hit the jackpot, jazzed, kitty-corner, don’t take any wooden nickels.

Reading Kirby Larson’s entry into the Dear America series, set in 1941-42, was like revisiting my childhood. Not that I was alive during World War II. But the slang terms and the idioms above that I took from The Fences Between Us were words and phrases that I heard my mother and father use as I was growing up. And they were children during World War II. The language Ms. Larson used in her pretend diary of a 13 year old girl growing up in Seattle was perfect, not overdone as I’ve read in some books that attempt to portray a certain time period, but just enough to make it feel real.

Then, too, I grew up in a Southern Baptist church where we read and studied about “home missionaries” who worked with ethnic churches, and I knew that Ms. Larson’s story of a Caucasian pastor of a Japanese Baptist Church and his daughter, Piper the sometimes reluctant PK, was something that really could have happened. In fact, the afterword to the book says that the story is based on the WW2 experiences of Pastor Emory “Andy” Andrews who “moved from Seattle to Twin Falls, Idaho to be near his congregation, all of whom had been incarcerated in Minidoka“, a Japanese internment camp.

Like all of the books in the Dear America series, the story is written in the form of a diary. Piper’s diary is a gift from one of the members of her church, grandmotherly Mrs Harada, who’s trying to make Piper feel a little better about her brother Hank’s enlistment in the U.S. Navy. Hank enlists in what he thinks is a “peacetime Navy” in November 1941, and he’s soon shipped to Hawaii, a seeming plum of an assignment. December 7, a day that will live in infamy, changes everything for Hank, for Piper, for Piper’s sister Margie, for Piper’s pastor dad, and especially for the members of the Seattle Japanese Baptist Church.

The book isn’t all history. Piper experiences her first romance, and she tries to work out her own feelings about being patriotic while at the same time supporting her friends who are Japanese American and being persecuted and mistreated for no good reason. There are other books for young people about the same time period and about the Japanese “relocation camps”, but I thought this one was a good addition to the category.

Other children’s books about the Japanese American experience during World War II:
Picture Books
Baseball Saved Us by Ken Mochizuki.
The Bracelet by Yoshiko Uchida.
So Far From the Sea by Eve Bunting.
Flowers from Mariko by Rick Noguchi and Deneen Jenks.
Fiction
Weedflower by Cynthia Kadohata.
Eyes of the Emperor by Graham Salibury.
The Moon Bridge by Marcia Savin.
Journey Home by Yoshiko Uchida.
Nonfiction
Farewell to Manzanar: A True Story of Japanese American Experience During and After the World War II Internment by Jean Wakatsuki Houston and James Houston.
The Children of Topaz: The Story of the Japanese-American Internment Camp by Michael Tunnell and George Chilcoat.
The Invisible Thread: An Autobiography by Yoshiko Uchida.

The Fences Between Us has been nominated for the 2010 Cybils Awards in the category of Middle Grade Fiction.

I, Emma Freke by Elizabeth Atkinson

Oct12

I, Emma Freke pushes some of my buttons: homeschooling, family reunions, community. So let’s take them one at a time.

Homeschooling: Emma Freke, age twelve, has a mom, Donatella, who acts about fourteen. When Donatella decides to give Emma the birthday present of being homeschooled, the result is not pretty. Homeschooling is not a choice between child neglect and authoritarian scheduling in a school-like environment. It really is possible to have children who are free to learn at their own pace and even choose many of their own areas of study and who are also required to to be responsible and work at their education. And most people like Donatella don’t last long at homeschooling, which is what happens in the book. I also didn’t like the implication that people tend to homeschool in order to use their children as free labor as Donatella does when she leaves Emma to tend the bead shop. I know lots of homeschooling families, and none of them have their children at home in order to enslave them to the family’s business.

Family reunions: Emma attends a family reunion in Wisconsin in order to get away from her negligent, selfish mother and to meet the extended family of the father she’s never met. The entire Freke family is about as dysfunctional in the direction of controlling and domineering as Emma’s mom is in the opposite direction. In fact, The Freke family is so uptight and scheduled that they’re borderline unbelievable. Again, family is not usually a choice between a mother who’s so permissive that she should be hauled in for child neglect and a father’s family that’s so authoritarian that rebellion is the only option for anyone with a sense of self at all.

Community: The theme of the book is finding home, finding the place where you can fit in and feel accepted and loved for yourself. Emma, with her strange name and her height (six feet tall at age 12) and her advanced intellectual abilities and her odd family, doesn’t fit in anywhere. She’s not only a Freke, but she feels like a freak. And don’t we all sometimes? Especially young teens? This aspect of the story really communicated to me, and I felt as if the target audience, middle school readers, would identify, too.

I’m not sure about the portrayal of homeschooling as an alternate lifestyle for neglectful parents nor about the family reunion that’s too structured to be true, but the story transcends these lapses. The supporting cast in the book, Donatella, Aunt Pat Freke, Nonno, Emma’s grandfather, and others, all tend toward caricature. However, Emma Freke is a great character, and she deserves the happy ending that she gets at the end of the story.

I, Emma Freke is nominated for the 2010 Cybil Awards in the the Middle Grade Fiction category.

Tortilla Sun by Jennifer Cervantes

Oct11

This is a cuento, a story about magic, love, hope, and treasure. If you read this under the glow of the moo or by the light of the summer sun, listen for whispers in any breeze that passes by. Then close your eyes and let the cuento take you to where magic still exists and spells of fear and hope are told through the heart of the storyteller.

Jennifer Cervantes’ Tortilla Sun certainly captures the atmosphere of a small village in New Mexico. The plot didn’t really grab me, but I did like the setting and the many, many vivid descriptions of the Southwest.

“I followed her past the long tables and into the sky-blue kitchen. Dried flowers and plants hung in tied bunches from the ceiling, making the kitchen smell like a freshly lit cranberry candle.”

“Two French doors opened to a walled courtyard with a brightly painted yellow and purple fountain.”

“The whole yard smelled of Mexican spices and roses.”

“We made our way through a small courtyard, where pink geraniums hung over the sides of terracotta pots lining the walkway. Above the bright turquoise door was a small painted tile that read Mi casa es su casa.”

“Beyond the village, the Albuquerque lights flickered like a thousand tiny twinkling stars. A distant howl flew on the edge of an approaching wind; withn seconds it had found us on the mesa. It whipped around, loosening Nana’s bun and then descended into the village below, gliding like a ghost.”

Can’t you just imagine yourself in a New Mexico village with the adobe houses and the flowers and the wind whistling through the trees and the smells of chili powder and comino (cumin) and candles burning?

I grew up in West Texas, and I had Hispanic friends who lived in houses like those in this book and whose mothers and grandmothers made tortillas and empanadas and other comidas muy deliciosas. Reading Tortilla Sun took me back. The story of a girl trying to reconnect with her dead father and New Mexico, Hispanic roots was OK, but somewhat predictable; however, if you have ties to New Mexico or to Hispanic culture or just want to read a story evocative of those ties and that cultural experience, Tortilla Sun is worth finding and reading and savoring.

And there’s a recipe in the back of the book for homemade tortillas that I may try. I won’t give you the long version of the story of the last and and only time I tried to make tortillas, twenty-five years ago, but I called the experience The Great Tortilla Battle. Maybe Ms. Cervantes’ recipe would, like her prose, cause something magical to happen and transform my tortillas into something edible.

More good books for children and young adults set in New Mexico:
The King’s Fifth by Scott O’Dell. Esteban is accused of withholding the fifth of the treasure that by law belongs to the King of Spain in this adventure set during the time of of the Spanish conquistadors and the search for gold and for the city of Cibola. YA

Josefina books by Valerie Tripp. Set in 1824, these six books in the American Girl series tell about Josefina, a Hispanic girl growing up on a ranch in New Mexico.

The Girl Who Chased Away Sorrow: The Diary of Sarah Nita, a Navajo Girl, New Mexico, 1864 (Dear America) by Ann Warren Turner

And Now Miguel by Joseph Krumgold. Miguel is the son of a sheep rancher who longs to join the men as they take the sheep to summer camp in the Sangre de Cristo mountains. Krumgold’s book won a Newbery Medal in 1954, and it is deserving of that recognition. However, you’ll have to slow down and savor the descriptions and the details to enjoy the story.

The Staircase by Ann Rinaldi. 13 year old Methodist Lizzie, left by her father in a convent school in Santa Fe, is confused by the Catholic teachings and the culture of the all-girls school. But she is able to help the nuns and the girls find a carpenter to build a much-needed staircase for the convent’s new chapel. YA

The Last Summer of the Death Warriors by Francisco X. Stork. Semicolon review here. Definitely YA or adult.

More books set in New Mexico at Wrapped in Foil, a website which lists children’s books by state setting.

Tortilla Sun is one of the books nominated for the 2010 Cybil Awards in the category of Middle Grade Fiction.

The Cardturner by Louis Sachar

Oct9

Last week I was reading about the (insane) World of Rock Climbing and the (dangerous) World of Nashville Country Music, and this week it’s the (philosophical) World of Duplicate Bridge. I must warn would-be readers that there is a LOT of bridge in this YA fiction book about a boy and his curmudgeonly, rich uncle. Uncle Lester, or as he’s affectionally known, Trapp, is an expert bridge player. He’s also blind. So Alton, his nephew, becomes Trapp’s “cardturner.” Basically, Alton plays the cards, and Trapp tells him what cards to play.

The only reason I got through all the technical jargon and card-game-play-by-play in this book was that I have a secret history that I’ve never told anyone, at least not lately and not on this blog. Nope, I’ve never played bridge. However, back in the day, when I was in college, I used to hang out at the Baptist Student Union. And at the BSU there were almost always two games going: a game of spades and a game of 42. Spades is a card game, and 42 is sort of like spades, but with dominoes. well, it turns out that Spades is a much-simplified version of bridge. According to Wikipedia, “Spades is a descendant of the Whist family of card games, which also includes Bridge, Hearts, and Oh, Hell.” I played a lot of spades and 42 in between classes, while skipping classes, and before and after classes. So, since I used to know how to play both spades and 42 about thirty years ago, I could sorta, kinda, follow the very long, involved, complicated explanations about specific hands of bridge and how they were played, won, and lost.

And I thought the whole book was fascinating. I’m funny like that. I like being introduced to worlds I never knew existed. I’ve heard of bridge, but I thought it was just something blue-haired little old ladies and retired army colonels played in Agatha Christie murder mysteries. I had no idea there were bridge clubs, and national championships, and master points to be gained, and mastery levels to be attained. Did you know that you can become a Grand Life Master bridge player if you rack up enough points? And did you know that people who play competitive duplicate bridge scorn the casual living room players who discuss other things while playing bridge? If you’re going to play bridge with the big boys (and women) apparently you have to behave and concentrate on the game. Did you know that the sides of the table in bridge are named for the cardinal directions: East, West, North and South?

Louis Sachar is the author of the Newbery Award-winning book, Holes, which means he’s got a good readable style and kind of quirky characters. But don’t expect a story like Holes if you decide to give The Cardturner a try. As I said, I liked The Cardturner a lot, but I can see that it won’t be everyone’s cup of tea. There’s a plot, about Alton and the uncle developing a relationship and bonding over bridge, and there’s a theme, about life being a lot like bridge and about synchronicity. But this book really is about the bridge. It was worth all the bridge (I admit to skimming through some of the play by play) to get to chapter 76 (short chapters) which encapsulates the moral of the story. I was going to quote it, but I think I’ll let you work a little to get there. And I’m not sure how meaningful the lesson would be in isolation anyway. Suffice it to say by the end of the book I think Alton’s on to something in relation to faith, coincidence, synchronicity, and the meaning of life.

The Cardturner by Louis Sachar has been nominated for a Cybil Award in the 2010 Young Adult Fiction category.

Other reviews:
Presenting Lenore: “After reading this novel, I’m convinced Sachar can make any subject fascinating. I went in knowing next to nothing about bridge, and I put the novel down at the end not only with a rudimentary understanding of the game, but a healthy appreciation for it.”

Melissa at Book Nut: “It works, primarily, because of the narration. For starters, because Alton’s about as clueless at bridge as we are (I’m assuming you’re as clueless as I am), it helps that he stops and explains it as we go. Amazingly, it doesn’t halt the plot, but it’s woven into it almost pretty seamlessly.”

TheHappyNappyBookseller: “By the time the game of bridge was introduced, Sachar already had me with Alton. His parents were very interesting, at times inappropriate and always funny. Alton’s, 11 yr old sister, Leslie was smart, sweet and a natural at bridge. I really liked the brother sister dynamic in this story.”

So you see, even if you don’t think you’d like to read a book that’s mostly about bridge, a game that’s mostly played by old people and people in books, you might want to give The Cardturner a try. Oh, the subtitle is pretty good, too: A Novel About a King, a Queen, and a Joker.

Shooting Kabul by N.H. Senzai

Oct8

Isn’t it interesting how much attention a country gets when we (the U.S.) go to war with or invade them? How many children’s books can you name set in Sri Lanka, Armenia, or even modern Italy? But there are several set in in Vietnam and now in modern Afghanistan. That’s not a criticism, just an observation, perfectly understandable.

Shooting Kabul takes place in 2001 when Fadi and his family flee Taliban-controlled Afghanistan. In the confusion of their escape, Fadi’s six year old sister, Mariam, is left behind. And each person in the family feels guilty for having let it happen. Fadi’s father, Habib, feels th loss of honor for not having taken care of his daughter. Fadi’s mother, Zafoona, knows that it was her responsibility as a mother to make sure Mariam was on the truck that took the family across the border into Pakistan. And Fadi’s older sister Noor says that it was her job to look after the younger chldren, so it’s her fault that Mariam was left behind. However, Fadi knows that it was his refusal to help Mariam with her beloved doll, Gulmina, that really caused Mariam be left, and now it is twelve year old Fadi who must get Mariam back. Can he win the photography contest and the airplane tickets to India and find Mariam?

Fadi is a great character, a kid who worries about his family and his responsibilities and his honor. Kids do worry, and adults sometimes don’t realize how complicated and difficult a young person’s decisions and dilemmas can be. I liked the photography angle in the story and the details about what makes a good photograph and how to deal with lighting and other technical difficulties. I also liked the glimpses of a modern Afghan family integrating religious beliefs, cultural practices, and family crises in a new and somewhat trying environment, San Francisco, CA.

The story is partly about adapting to a new culture, but the overriding theme is that of blame and shared responsibility and a family caring for one another. Fadi’s family share the guilt that comes from having left Mariam behind, and they share the sense of obligation to do everything possible to find Mariam and bring her home. It’s an exciting, yet realistic, story that kids can connect with and grow from reading.

More kids or YA books set in Afghanistan or about Afghans:
Wanting Mor by Rukhsana Khan. Semicolon review here.
The Breadwinner by Deborah Ellis.
Parvana’s Journey by Deborah Ellis.
Mud City by Deborah Ellis.
Camel Bells by Janne Carlsson.
Under the Persimmon Tree by Suzanne Fisher Staples.
Thunder Over Kandahar by Sharon McKay.
Count Your Way Through Afghanistan by Kathleen Benson, James Haskins, and Megan Moore.
Afghan Dreams: Young Voices of Afghanistan by Mike Sullivan and Tony O’Brien. Reviewed at The Well Read Child.
Nasreen’s Secret School: A True Story from Afghanistan by Jeanette Winter.

Shooting Kabul has been nominated for the 2010 Cybil Awards in the Middle Grade Fiction category.

Emily’s Fortune by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor

Oct6

Emily was an orphan. A very quiet orphan without much experience in navigating the great, wide world.

Rufus was Emily’s pet turtle.

Emily’s Aunt Hilda lived in Redbud, and she had a kind face, a warm lap, and big arms that hugged Emily tight. Aunt Hilda also sent cookies at Christmas.

Emily’s Uncle Victor is the villain of the piece. He had “the silver-black of a wolf, the eyes of a weasel, the growl of a bear, and tiger tattoo on his arm.” He also had “a gold tooth that gleamed when he opened his mouth, and he could crack two walnuts in the palm of one hand just by squeezing his fist. He never came to see Emily’s mother unless he wanted money.”

Which of those two relatives would you go to live with if your parents were dead?

Of course, so Emily sets out for Redbud on the stage coach, escaping from the Catchum Child-Catching Services (Orphans, Strays, and Roustabouts Rounded Up Quickly). She soon makes a friend, Jackson, who’s also on the run from the Catchum Child Catching Services.

This story, set in the Old West, is a rip-snortin’, shootin’ shivers, hunky munky, ding-dong dickens tall tale. Each chapter ends in a cliff-hanger and with a question, for example:

And what in blinkin’ bloomers do you think she saw?

What in pickin’ poppies could possibly happen next?

Now what in a devil’s doughnut should Emily do?

I loved this story, just exciting and suspenseful enough for nine, ten, and eleven year olds, but not too scary and horrible. I hope to read this book aloud to Z-baby, and I predict that she’s going to be a fan. For one thing, Z-baby will like the chapter endings/transition questions because she likes to make up her own words and ask lots of crazy questions.

The Kneebone Boy by Ellen Potter

Oct5

Dashes of Dahl. Snippets of Snicket. Heaps of Horvath. Those are the comparisons on the back of the ARC of this rather gothic middle grade adventure novel that I read breathlessly to the end in one day.

I would add: A modicum of Monty Python. Pinches of The Princess Bride (without the kissing). Even a bit of Joan Aiken’s Wolves of WIlloughby Chase.

So I’m not as good with the alliteration as the blurb writer. I do have three questions after reading about the strange and abnormal Hardscrabble children, Otto, Lucia, and Max, and their adventure in Snoring-by-the-Sea:

1. What is lurgy?

2. Will Otto ever talk?

3. Do British children really hate peanut butter and jelly (jam, not jello) sandwiches, and if so, what do they eat when there’s no food in the house except for PBJ?

If you can answer these questions and if you’ve already read The Kneebone Boy, you probably figured out the ending to the story long before I did –especially since I didn’t figure it out until the end when our helpful narrator who shall remain unnamed told us exactly what was what and who was who. I loved the chapter titles, such as:
In which the Hardscrabbles worry about the title of this book and other things.

In which something awful happens but I can’t say what it is.

In which Max’s educated guess had better be right or else Lucia and Otto are going to throttle him.

However, it must be said that those sorts of titles don’t really give away much about what’s going to happen in any particular chapter, much less how the book is going to end. Anyway, it also won’t hurt to tell that The Kneebone Boy has no vampires, no magic, only one very small ghost, one large castle and one small play castle, lots of adventure, many oddities, and a few crazies. Also, there’s not much blood, and lots of stuff happens at night . . . in the dark . . . in a spooky forest.Oh, and there’s a dungeon and a secret passageway.

If all that doesn’t convince you to pick a copy of The Kneebone Boy and start reading now, you obviously aren’t like Lucia who “wished something interesting would happen” and read lots of novels. Nor are you the Max-type, Max being the youngest Hardscrabble “who always thought he knew better” and thought “deeply and importantly.” You might be like Otto, the oddest of the Hardscrabble children. Otto, who never spoke out loud, only communicated with his own special sign language, and generally wanted to go home to Little Tunks instead of continuing on a dangerous and exciting adventure.

Now if that paragraph didn’t get you, nothing will.

Finding My Place by Traci L. Jones

Oct4

I graduated high school in 1975, the year in which this story takes place. So I loved all the cultural references to TV shows like Barney Miller and Sanford and Son, to songs like Monster Mash and Stairway to Heaven, and to political and social events and entities like the Black Panthers and maxi skirts and hippie communes. But the characters themselves eventually felt flat and unconvincing in spite of all the time period references and slang-sprinkled dialog.

Tiphanie Jayne Baker is the one who’s “finding her place” in a nearly all-white high school in the suburbs of Denver, Colorado. Her parents have made it in the business world–dad’s a banker and mom’s a real estate broker–so they are moving into the house to match the income, out of the predominantly black part of town and into the ritzy white suburbs. Tiphanie has to transfer to a new high school where there’s only one other black student, a boy named Bradley. At first, no one even speaks to Tiphanie or acknowledges her presence, but that situation changes as she makes friends with social outcast, Jackie Sue Webster, and then eventually others in the school begin to notice that Tiphanie is a real person and not just the token black girl.

Unfortunately, it’s at the point that Tiphanie is finally beginning to feel somewhat accepted by the kids at school, except for a couple of garden variety racist idiots, that the story of the friendship between Tiphanie and Jackie Sue takes a turn for the oversimplified and stereotypical. Stop here if you’re not in the mood for spoilers. Jackie Sue’s mom is a former beauty queen, unwed mother, dumb blonde, now alcoholic and abusive mess. Could one possibly impose any more poor white trash stereotypes onto one character? Oh, yeah, Jackie Sue and her mom live in a trailer park, of course.

At the beginning of the story Jackie Sue with her impressive vocabulary and her observational skills was an interesting character. Then she somehow turned into a cliche. Tiphanie, although she’s smart and witty, hovers on the edge of stereotype with her parents lecturing her about upholding the good image of the Afro-American race and her friends accusing her of becoming too white, an Oreo. But whereas Tiphanie feels almost real, and her parents kind of snooty but also believable, Jackie Sue and especially her mom are just a plot device for Tiphanie to learn from and for the reader to get the message that some white people have poverty-stricken, dysfunctional lives that are worse than the lives of upwardly mobile blacks.

Read for a taste of the seventies, if you want one, but not for the realistic characterization.

Other views:
The HappyNappyBookseller: “I really enjoyed Finding My Place. It was a quick, fun and entertaining read. Jones knows how to write a good story and great dialogue.”

The Fourth Musketeer: “In this novel, Traci Jones examines serious issues of prejudice with a terrific sense of humor–I laughed out loud at numerous places in the novel. She explores overt prejudice against blacks . . . but also more subtle types of prejudice.”

Bookish Blather: “As her friendship with Jackie Sue grows, Tiphanie finds herself wrestling with her values, and the values of her family. I loved reading about Tiphanie. She’s smart, funny and witty, and a compassionate person.”

And, again, I am in the minority. Try it if you’re interested and see what you think.

Jump by Elisa Carbone

Oct1

On belay?
Belay on.
Climbing.
Climb on.

What would you do if you weren’t afraid?
Imagine it perfect.

Jump is my introduction to the sport of rock-climbing. Apparently, there are rock-climbing gyms and climbing shops where you buy gear with esoteric names and rocks and cliffs and routes to climb that have ratings and their own weird names (Swing Shift? Midnight Lightning?). Who knew such a world existed?

Anyway, our two protagonists, Critter, escapee from a mental hospital, and P.K., a runaway who just wants to avoid being sent to boarding school, find themselves hitchhiking across country to Nevada and then to California to find a place where they can share their mutual passion–rock-climbing. In the process, they, of course, discover another passion for each other, but there are issues that must be resolved. And the cops are chasing both Critter and P.K., seeking to return Critter to his drugged life in the hospital and P.K. into the arms of her parents-who-don’t-understand-me.

I’m making the book sound a bit trite and predictable, but it’s really anything but. Critter isn’t really crazy, or is he? He does read people’s emotions by the colored auras he sees surrounding them, and he makes things happen by visualizing them. And P.K. is a strong, independent, rock-climbing, kick you-know-what female, or maybe she’s just a girl who wants her daddy to listen to her and her mom to let her stay home. The parents of both young people were rather flat characters, not very comprehensible. But this story isn’t really about kids and parents; it’s about P.K. and Critter and their relationship and about trust and most of all about living in the present. Critter tells P.K. over and over that the present moment is all that’s real. The past can’t be changed; it’s subject to what Critter calls “the Law of Inevitability.” The future isn’t here, and most of the things we worry about happening in the future, won’t. So Now is all there is.

That’s the philosophy part of the book. The story part is your basic boy meets girl, problems, resolution. But it’s a good climb with some quirky, lovable characters.