Halfway through this book, I knew I had to nominate it for a Cybil Award in the Middle Grade Fiction category. So I did.

I absolutely devoured this book. I’ve always been interested in memoirs, based-on-fact stories, biographies, and just plain fiction about people who live on the fringes: people with mental illness, the disabled, children who are neglected or ignored. I like to see how these people see the world, how they approach those who are more “normal” than they are, how they think. Reading about those who are somehow out of the mainstream of what we call normal teaches me something about what it means to be human, and what it means to be made in God’s image.

Window Boy is the story of Sam Davis. In some ways Sam is a typical sixth grader. He’s crazy about basketball. He doesn’t like math so much, but he does quite well at language arts. He wishes he had more friends.

But Sam’s outside is so different from that of the rest of his new sixth grade class that no one can see any of the things that Sam shares in common with the other boys in the class. Sam has cerebral palsy. He was injured by the doctor at birth, and the only parts of his body that work even halfway well are his tongue and his right hand. Sam has never even been to school before. It’s 1968, and not many children who are as severely physically handicapped as Sam are allowed to go to a regular public school.

Sam can talk —a little. And he can use a letter board to communicate and do his school assignments. The question is whether or not his teacher and his new classmates and the PTA and the principal will give him a chance to prove himself, prove that he can learn and go to school just like everyone else. And will his single mother be able to keep their apartment in spite of money problems that are threatening to make Sam’s public school experiment a short one? And will Miss Perkins, Sam’s nurse and interpreter, be able to help him make the transition and make friends? Finally, will Sam be able to live up to the example of his hero, Winston Churchill, who overcame a difficult childhood to become one of the world’s greatest leaders?

I found this book to be both inspiring and absorbing. It probably could have benefitted from some tighter editing; there’s a lot of extraneous material at the end especially which interested me but might not appeal to kids, and sometimes the pace is a little slow. However, I didn’t care. Sam’s story was amazing, and I had to keep reminding myself that this book was a work of fiction, not a biography or a memoir. I wanted to find out where Sam was now; I actually wanted to write him a letter of encouragement and congratulations. I predict that many of the middle schoolers who read this book will try to do just that, not realizing that Sam is a fictional character.

The emphasis on bravery and perseverance and on Sam’s relationship with Winnie (Winston Churchill with whom Sam carries on a rich interior dialog) is moving and will be an encouragement to those children and adults who are facing their own life challenges. I think the book will appeal to the Helen Keller fans, whose numbers are legion, who are looking to step up to a more demanding read. Boys who are interested in sports but unable to play for one reason or another may also identify with Sam’s love of basketball. Kids with CP or other disabilities should read this one or have it read aloud to them. Kids who need to understand the world of disability, and all of us do, should also get a taste of Window Boy. It’s not at all didactic, but highly educational nevertheless.

Andrea White on inspiring young people with fiction:

Alaska is a popular subject these days, courtesy of you-know-who, so maybe this book, set in rural Alaska, will ride the wave of Alaska-love, especially if Sarah Palin happens to become Vice President of the United States.

Unfortunately, this verse novel didn’t do much for me. Diamond Willow is a twelve year old part-Athabascan girl: “In the middle of my family in the middle of a middle-size town in the middle of Alaska, you will find middle-size, middle-kid, me.” She finds it difficult to make friends, and her father’s dogs are her best friends.

“Most of the story is told in diamond-shaped poems, with a hidden message printed in darker ink at the center of each one.” I found this layout gimmicky and distracting. I would start reading the diamond-shaped poem on a page, and then get distracted by the bold print “message”, and then have to go back and start reading the page all over again to get the gist of the plot. It was not an effective way to read a story.

Then there was the reincarnation/ancestor guides aspect of the story which was also not my cup of tea. If you like or believe that sort of thing, Diamond Willow might be just the book for you. If not, then not.

And other bloggers say:

Jennifer Schulz at The Kiddosphere@Farquier: “Diamond Willow is not a book that will appeal to a broad audience; for those that enjoy quiet and thoughtful reads, it will be a memorable experience.”

Bill at Literate Lives: “The story is filled with fantastic language and description. Helen Frost has captured the drama and teen angst of middle school in very few words.”

Fuse 8: “Diamond Willow aims younger than Frost’s usual teenaged fare. Examining the relationship between a girl and her sled dog, Frost combines her standard intelligent wordplay with a story that will catch in the throats of dog lovers and people lovers alike.”

Helen Frost’s website.

All I’m reading these days is middle grade (grades 3-7-ish) fiction in preparation for the Cybils. So far 106 books have been nominated in the Middle Grade Fiction category, and I’ve read fifteen out of the 106. So I’m at approximately 14%. And the panel I’m a part of has to whittle the list down to five finalists.

I just finished reading two great ones: Clementine’s Letter by Sara Pennypacker and Window Boy by Andrea White (reviews soon). I would really like to read and review all of the books on the list before Christmas since we’re supposed to announce the finalists on January 1, 2009. That’s about ten weeks to read over a hundred books, since nominations don’t close until Wednesday, October 15th. If you haven’t already nominated your favorite children’s and young adult books published in 2008 (before October 15), you have three more days to do it.

FYI, here’s an alphabetical list of books already nominated for Middle Grade Fiction with link to the reviews I’ve already written.

And here are a few freebie middle grade titles that haven’t been nominated yet, but should be. I’ve already used up my one nomination, but you’re free to nominate anytime from now through Wednesday:

Isle of Fire by Thomas Wayne Batson. I haven’t read this sequel to last year’s Isle of Swords, but I’d like to, and I’ll bet it’s as good as or better than the first book in the pirate adventure series.

Sisters of the Sword by Maya Snow. Karate Kid just finished this samurai tale that I checked out of the library, and he loved it. I think he’s planning to write a review here at Semicolon, but he may be too young (age 11) to nominate it for a Cybil.

So, now I’d better quit typing and get to reading. I figure I need to read and review at least ten books per week to even come close to my goal of reading all the nominees. Wish me luck.

In the author note in the back of this book, a NYT critic is quoted as saying, “It should be said: Kevin Henkes is a genius.” The critic was referring to Henkes’ work in picture books, which includes the Caldecott Award winning Kitten’s First Full Moon and the popular Lily’s Purple Plastic Purse. If we’re talking picture books, I might have to agree with the NYT critic.

However, I found the middle grade fiction title Bird Lake Moon to be slow-moving, like wading through molasses, and rather odd. Told in alternating points of view, by Mitch, whose parents are planning a divorce, and Spencer, whose parents are trying to decide whether eight years have healed their grief enough for them to return to the summer home where their oldest son drowned, the book tries to picture the potentially disastrous consequences of lying and deceiving a friend and at the same time the bittersweet, grown-up feeling of harboring secret knowledge that even the adults don’t have.

So strike one, it’s a Divorce Book. I know Divorce Books are necessary, but I don’t usually like them very much. Strike Two, it’s a guy book in which nothing much really happens. Guys tend to like action. Strike Three, well, I don’t really have a strike three, but what does happen in the book is fairly realistic, but not very novelistic, if you know what I mean. If not, chalk it up to the influence of this strangely out-of-sync novella.

The novel was odd, as I said, and it gave me a creepy feeling while I was reading it. If some kids, or adults, like it and get something out of it that I didn’t, more power to them. I’m just not thinking it lives up to the genius billing.

Twelve year old Owen Burke just fell out of a tree, and now his arm won’t move at all. But since Owen’s an orphan and destitute, there’s no doctor for him, just a few days in bed to recover and then a sling for the now-useless arm. Owen and his younger brother Zach are set to go on the next Orphan Train and find a new family out west, but when Owen decides that Zach will be better off and find a family more easily without a crippled brother to hold him back, Owen makes the sacrifice and goes off on his own.

And where Owen lands is the most unlikely place you could imagine, a floating circus traveling down the Mississippi River. Owen finds a new sort of family in Solomon, the freed slave who works as stable hand and all-round janitor on the circus barge called The River Palace. And Owen becomes attached to the animals, especially the elephants, Tippo and her calf, Little Bet.

The Floating Circus, a straight prose work of historical fiction, doesn’t have much in common with Ms. Zimmer’s 2007 verse novel for children, Reaching for Sun (Semicolon review here), except maybe a certain empathy for the disabled and a talented story-telling ability on the part of the author. I think The Floating Circus will reach a wider audience since it’s appropriate for reading aloud in conjunction with a history unit (pre-Civil War, 1850’s) or for suggesting to children who are interested in reading fiction about circuses or the Mississippi River or slavery.

The story moves along at a good pace, and the book is not too long, only about 200 pages. There is some violence portrayed in relation to both animals and people. Although it’s not graphic or gratuitous, if your child is especially sensitive to reading about the mistreatment of animals or of people, you might want to take a look at the book before handing it over. Otherwise, it’s highly recommended.

Tracie Zimmer’s blog.

Well, maybe I’m just in a sourish mood. Lots of people seemed to be quite taken with Ms. Dowell’s Vietnam-war-from-the-homefront novel, Shooting the Moon. I thought it was O.K.

The best part of the novel is the main character, twelve year old Jamie. Jamie’s brother, T.J., has just left for Vietnam, and Jamie is higher than a kite. Finally one of them will get to experience what a real war is like, experience all the games Jamie and T.J. played growing up on an army base, and T. J. has promised to write and tell Jamie all about it. Jamie only wishes she could enlist and go with him.

Jamie, a self-described “Army brat” who admires her father The Colonel to the point of hero-worship, is an ebullient, indomitable, ball of fire, and she kept me reading just to see what she would do next. The plot and character development are predictable; as Jamie grows up she learns that war is not all fun and games. T.J., instead of sending Jamie letters, sends her rolls of film, pictures that he has taken in Vietnam for her to develop and print. For some reason, many of his pictures are photos of the moon, hence the title. I’ll probably beat myself when I figure it out, but I didn’t really get the significance of the moon pics. Maybe it’s something about the same moon shines over in Vietnam that shines over Fort Hood where Jamie is?

I also enjoyed one of the minor characters, Cindy Lorenzo, a learning disabled friend of Jamie’s who “hit and bit” and “whose brain was still on the first grade level.” Everyone knows a Cindy, and Ms. Dowell presents her sympathetically but realistically. I never really understood why T.J. joined the Army in the first place, and I didn’t get why Jamie’s other friend, Private Hollister, did what he did in the course of the story either.

Anyhoo, if you’re a fan of war/anti-war Vietnam novels, this one fits that description. Or if you like girls that win at gin rummy . . .

Other, uniformly laudatory, opinions (what do I know?):

Becky’s Book Reviews: “Full of depth and true meaning-of-life “stuff,” Shooting the Moon is one of 2008’s must read books.”

Megan at Read, Read, Read: “This book would really be a great starting board for talking about some of the harsh realities behind war. Frances O’Roark Dowell is very careful not to be too preachy about war or even too supportive of war. The novel had the perfect balance for me.”

Fuse 8: “This book is amazing. Top notch, wonderful, humorous, meaningful, with a pull and a hit in the gut that’ll knock a readers’ socks off. What we’ve got here is a title that has an excellent chance of engaging every reader that comes across it. And timely doesn’t even begin to describe it.”

A Wrunge Sponge: “This is a really wonderful middle grade novel, highly recommended for boys and girls alike. You could use it as a discussion starter around the topics of family, war, and changing perspectives, an example of memoir writing and excellent dialog that moves the story along and reveals character traits, or to introduce comparisons of writing and the visual arts (photography).”

Franki at A Year of Reading: “This is a powerful story. A story of how war affects a family and how a family deals with a child that is sent to war. It is the story of a young girl growing up and finding herself. And there is amazing thread of photography throughout the book.”