This book is for all those fans of graphology, the study of handwriting. If you have one in your life, Signed by Zelda is the book. Lucy, the female protagonist of the story, is nearly obsessed with handwriting. She gathers handwriting samples wherever she goes. She looks up samples of famous signatures on the internet. She knows how to tell if a signature is a forgery. She even knows how to forge signatures herself, but she’s still working on being able to replicate John Hancock’s signature.

However, the book is only partly about Lucy and her interest in graphology. It’s also about Nicky, the boy who lives in the apartment above Lucy’s and is always in time-out, sent there by his shouting and uncaring dad. (Mom absconded to India.) And it’s about Pigeon, a talking, pie-eating pigeon, and Grandma Zelda, who’s Nicky’s sometimes forgetful but excellent pie-making grandmother. Grandma Zelda’s specialty is Zeldaberry pies (recipe in the back of the book).

When Grandma Zelda disappears, Nicky, Lucy and Pigeon band together to find her. This final third of the book is both the best and the weakest part of the story. It’s best because we finally get to see the three friends working together to solve a problem, the disappearance of Grandma Zelda. But it’s the weakest because Nicky’s dad, the person responsible for Grandma’s vanishing, was just too bad for his eventual “redemption” to be believable. He’s bad, bad, bad, all through the book; then he apologizes and everything is fine. (Not a spoiler. It’s pretty obvious throughout the book who the bad guy is and what his nefarious plan is.)

Signed by Zelda is quirky, sort of a stretch on the believability scale, and a delight for anyone who’s a fan of handwriting analysis–or pigeons. Lucy even has rules, called LUCY’S WRITING RULES:

LWR #1: Watch your back around paper stabbers.
LWR #2: Confused people have confused writing.
LWR #3: Real friends write with real letters.
LWR #4: You are your I.
LWR #5: Every signature has a secret.

Context is everything, and you would probably have to read the book to get the full significance of Lucy’s Writing Rules. I just wonder what Lucy would make of my signature?

More steam-punk, time travel, kids-save-the-world with a dose of zombies, pirates, and intrepid explorers thrown in for good measure. Shake it all together, and you have an adventure story that answers the eternal question: “Should you be afraid of dark closets and basements and monsters under the bed at night?” (The answer, of course, is a resounding “YES!”)

Tommy is a nineteenth century Dickensian London street urchin who is recruited to join the Explorers’ Society, a group of men devoted to exploring portals to other worlds. Jezebel Lemon is a twenty-first century schoolgirl who lives in a New York apartment with her dad, an artist. When Tommy and Jez become partners, they have to find a way to save the world from the un-dead, Dead Gentleman.

I liked the friendship aspect of this story. What does it take to make people friends?What if a friend betrays you? What do friends do to balance each other and compensate for the other’s weaknesses? Tommy is a bit rash, rushing in where others fear to tread; Jez is more cautious, but she approaches bold and daring by the end of the novel. Then there’s also Bernard, another friend and ally who’s super-cautious, but loyal. The friends complement one another.

I didn’t much like the villains of the piece, not that you’re supposed to like villains. The Dead Gentleman and his henchman Macheath are a little too nefarious and mustache-twirling to be believed. However, each to his own villains, I suppose.

For middle grade steam-punk adventure fans, The Dead Gentleman is a solid entry in the genre. Recommended on the back cover by Pseudonymous Bosch.

Clay and his four young dragonet friends have lived their entire lives hidden away under the mountain, being trained for their eventual destiny: to end the dragon war among the various groups of dragons in Pyrrhia, the dragon-inhabited land in this intriguing story of dragonets, prophecy and coming of age. Each of the dragon tribes has a queen ruler, except the Sandwings, who have three sisters fighting for control of the tribe. Other dragon tribes have taken sides in the Sandwings’ war, so the entire land of Pyrrhia is at war and has been for quite a long time. It’s kind of like World War I Europe with all the intertwined alliances and treaties, except with dragons.

The Dragonet Prophecy, the first book in a projected series about the “dragonets of destiny”, tells the story from the point of view of Clay, a Mudwing dragon who, despite being the biggest and possibly the most talented fighter of the five dragonets of destiny, has a heart for peace and non-violence. That’s not to say that the story itself is non-violent; there are several complaints on Amazon about the book being too violent for the intended age group. I think the appropriate age group is about 10 and up, and for better or for worse, most 10 year olds in our culture are accustomed to the level of violence in The Dragonet Prophecy (dragons eating prey, including humans, and dragons fighting other dragons).

There’s not much of a theme here or underlying subtext. Maybe the story is about how difficult it is to make peace in the midst of war and warlike dragons. Or maybe it’s about coming of age, and finding your parents, and moving on from there. However, not every story has to be about Big Ideas. Some can just reference the Big Themes and rely on plot and characters to carry most of the weight. The Dragonet Prophecy is that second kind of novel.

I thought this book was a promising start to a somewhat unconventional and unpredictable story. The world-building was good, and there’s lots of room for more surprises as readers find out more about the cultures and habits of the various tribes of dragons in Pyrrhia. I’m looking forward to reading the second book in this series, The Lost Heir, due out in January, 2013. It’s told from the viewpoint of Tsunami, a SeaWing dragonet who, accompanied by her fellow dragonets of destiny, goes to find her parents underwater in the SeaWing kingdom.

I hereby christen a new genre: eco-fantasy. (Ummm, OK, so Google shows over 28 million hits for eco-fantasy. There’s nothing new under the sun.)

Anyway, The Hop is an eco-fantasy, complete with Big, Bad Developers, a nature-loving heroine, and talking toads. The toads including one named Tad, live in Toadville-by-Tumbledown. Their habitat is about to be destroyed by Central Iowa Realtors, a company looking build a new shopping center. Only if Tad can kiss a human girl will Toadville be saved.

Told alternately from the point of view of Tad the Toad and of a girl named Taylor, this story was cute and enjoyable, even if it was a bit predictable. Of course, Toadville will be saved. Of course, Tad will kiss the Queen of the Hop. Of course, all will be well, even if it takes a cross-country journey to Reno, Nevada, a bit of magic and a rich conservationist to pull it all off. For gardeners, herpetologists, fifties music fans, and eco-fantasy readers.

In the meantime, if you’re starved for herpetological information:
Toads Could Be Used to Predict Earthquakes.
Frogs and Toads Nature Study
Enchanted Learning: Toads
Frog and Toad page on Pinterest
For further reading: The Frog and Toad Collection by Arnold Lobel, The Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Grahame, Commander Toad and the Space Pirates by Jane Yolen, The Toad Books by Morris Gleitzman, Toad by the Road by Joanne Ryder.

The jackalope is said to be a hybrid of the pygmy-deer and a species of “killer rabbit”. Reportedly, jackalopes are extremely shy unless approached. It has also been said that the jackalope can convincingly imitate any sound, including the human voice. It uses this ability to elude pursuers, chiefly by using phrases such as “There he goes! That way!” During days of the Old West, when cowboys gathered by the campfires singing at night, jackalopes could often be heard mimicking their voices. It is said that a jackalope may be caught by putting a flask of whiskey out at night. The jackalope will drink its fill of whiskey and its intoxication will make it easier to hunt. However, legend has it that they are dangerous if approached.

My source for such informative data on the elusive jackalope is, of course, the ever-trusted and trustworthy Wikipedia. The narrator of Project Jacklope, Jeremy, who is a “basic junior high type”, and his next-door neighbor Professor Twitchett, who is “kind of a wack job”, both make liberal use of the same source. So I’m in good company when it comes to finding out about jackalopes and other so-called mythical creatures.

I say “so-called” because after you finish reading Project Jackalope, you may or may not believe that jackalopes actually exist. I’m a skeptic, but then it takes a lot to convince me of anything outlandish. And Project Jackalope is an outlandish tale in which a crazy zoo employee leaves a science experiment in Jeremy’s bedroom along with a note telling him to “keep it safe, keep it secret.” Jeremy ends up on the run, with the jackalope (or animal hybrid) in a Dora the Explorer suitcase. Jeremy’s only friend, and accomplice, is another neighbor, Agatha, Miss Know-it-all, Science Fair Champion, and Accomplished Anathematizer.

Yeah, we are not treated to any examples of the actual words Agatha uses, but at several critical moments in the story, Agatha cusses up a bluestorm, as my mother would say. And Jeremy’s language while not profane, is definitely on a continuum from cheeky to downright rude. Typical junior high. If that’s likely to annoy, don’t read. Otherwise, Project Jackalope is funny and entertaining.

Author Emily Ecton is a writer and producer for NPR’s Wait, Wait . . . Don’t Tell Me, and I think some of the snarky humor of that show rubbed off on her or got into her book or something. Junior high is a snarky time of life, so the shoe fits. Maybe a few examples, chosen, nearly at random, would give a more accurate picture of the tone of this middle grade comedy adventure:

“I rolled my eyes. How corny can you get? You’re going to see the boss. But I had a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach, like I was getting an ulcer or was going to puke or something. Agatha stopped cussing and got a stricken look on her face.”

“Agatha turned around in her seat and stared at me. Somebody needed a whack with the cluestick.”

“If you didn’t count the problem of the freaking mutant sitting in the middle of the floor, we were all clear.”

“I think I handled the situation well. I immediately slammed the door in his face and locked it. It was an impulse and I went with it. So sue me.”

It may say something about the general level of humor around this house that I read straight through Project Jackalope, laughed frequently, and generally didn’t mind the (unspecified) cussing and the snark. And I’m inconsistent because I just wrote about another Cybils nominee that it was too junior high sarcastic for me to enjoy. It just wasn’t funny anymore after a few chapters, but this book was.

So sue me.