Bruce’s Shelfies: We have come….to the end.

Well. Sort of.  We haven’t come to the complete, grinding end, but it’s time to announce that I will be winding back my output for this blog over the next few months.  After nearly five years of blogging and nearly two years of posting five days a week, I have hit something of a wall in both reading and wanting to blog and I have therefore made the decision to ease off a bit.

It started with Fiction in 50.  At the end of last year I was unsure of whether I wanted to continue that feature because it felt like a chore more than anything.  I put the question to you good folk and some of you felt strongly that it should stay, so stay it has.  But my heart’s not in it.

Then over the past month or two I’ve had enormous trouble keeping up with my review schedule.  I just can’t seem to read fast enough to get through all the books I have scheduled.  And just when I get through one stack, a whole new slew of books arrives in the mail.  I’ve come to dread receiving book-shaped packages, to tell you the truth, which is a very sad thing for a Bookshelf Gargoyle.  I’ve been reading the same two books for a fortnight now and while I’m enjoying both, I don’t seem to be making much progress.

A few nights ago, instead of picking up my scheduled books, I started re-reading Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.  I haven’t re-read it in years and for the last few days I have loved dropping back into that world.  I have ignored my reviewing responsibilities and I’m loving it.

I’ve also been having tech issues, with computers dying and troubles with posting on other devices.  Then there’s the fact that I really only get one day during the week to post, so I have to cram in five, sometimes six days worth of posts, into a few hours of sitting in front of the computer.

It has all begun to feel like too much work for something that is supposed to be a hobby.

So today I emailed the main publishers that I work with and asked that any requests for books that I have made for the rest of the year be withdrawn so I can sit back, relax and concentrate on getting through the books I have already received.  This was tricky to do because even as I looked through the list I thought, “Oh no, I can’t cancel THAT request, I just HAVE to read that book!” but I steeled my reserve and pressed send regardless.  And as if to illustrate the necessity of taking this action, I had no sooner sent the emails than the postman arrived with another book.

The crux of the matter is that for the next little while I will not be posting five days a week.  I may post once a week.  Maybe once a fortnight.  I will endeavour to post on the books that I have already received from publishers – about 14 in total – but I have completely ignored Netgalley for the last week and I don’t think I’ll get to the 20+ books on my Netgalley list.

I am taking a break.

And this decision has made me a lot more positively disposed toward the books already sitting on my shelf.

Until next time,

Bruce

 

 

Picture Book Double Dip: Dragons and Planetary Terraforming…

Grab some colourful snacks to accompany two colourful picture books for today’s double dip review.  We received both of today’s books from Bloomsbury Australia for review.  First up, we have There is No Dragon in this Story by Lou Carter and Deborah Allwright.  Here’s the blurb from Goodreads:

Poor old dragon. Nobody wants him in their story. Not Goldilocks, not Hansel and Gretel – no one. But Dragon will not give up! He shall continue on his course of finding someone who wants him in their story. ANYONE. His boundless enthusiasm surely won’t get him into any trouble. Surely …

A glorious story about dragons, heroes and ice cream with sprinkles. From author Lou Carter, a phenomenal new talent, and Deborah Allwright, illustrator of the bestselling The Night Pirates.

Dip into it for… 

… a fun romp, and with such a sympathetically drawn protagonist, too! Poor old dragon is always the villain and he’s now fed up with having to fight (and lose) to the knight every single time. He wants to be a hero, but none of the fairytale folk can find room for a dragon in their stories. While assisting Jack (of beanstalk fame) on his mission, dragon accidentally sets in motion a chain of events that cause the sun to go out….but who could the fairytale folk possibly find who could reignite the sun? Enter the dragon of course!

There’s plenty of humour in this one, in both the text and cheeky illustrative details. The mini-fleshlings enjoyed spotting all the different fairytale characters and the surprise post-climax ending (ie: the last page!) even had us trip-trapping off to remind ourselves what happened in a certain fairytale story, so the book launched us on our own adventure.

Overall Dip Factor

Young readers, and especially those who are younger siblings or always shunted out of the “hero” role in imaginative games, will no doubt relate to poor old dragon, who really only wants a brief shining moment in the sun and a chance to break out of his stereotypically assigned role.

The combination of text and illustrative format means that the story rolls along quickly and we found this to be an all around winner as a pre-bedtime, relaxing read.

Next up we have one for the budding astronomers and engineers with Up, Up and Away by Tom McLaughlin.  Here’s the blurb from Goodreads:

What does it take to build your very own planet? Orson is about to find out.
He takes:
A cup full of rocks
A dash of water
A sprinkling of metal
A lot of nothingness
A big bang …
And before long, BOOM! He has it – a tiny planet with rings around it, right there in his bedroom! But it seems that BUILDING a planet is the easy bit; taking care of it is a different thing altogether. Over time, Orson realises that his planet needs to be free and that sometimes you have to let go of the things that you love the most …

A heart-warming story about life’s possibilities and disappointments with an uplifting ending that will resonate with all fans of Oliver Jeffers’ work.

Dip into it for…  

…a remarkably cute story with a multi-pronged narrative that covers everything from environmental issues to the struggle of letting go. Orson is a boy who likes to make things and very handy at it too, he seems to be. After creating a very small planet in his own bedroom, a chain reaction begins that leads to Orson having to weigh up his love of his creation against the planet’s best interests. The ending might encompass the only sensible choice that Orson can make, but the author leaves the reader with a bit of hope that Orson and his planet might one day meet again.

The mini-fleshlings enjoyed this story and the busy illustrations but it didn’t grab them on first reading as I expected it might, given that both of them are avid makers of things using random bits of rubbish from around the house. I had a little trouble with the way the story meshed together (or didn’t) because I expected after the first few pages that the story might have a strong scientific bent. A few more pages in and I changed my mind to think that the story would focus on environmental issues regarding the proper way to care for a planet. A few pages on however, and the focus had changed again to an “if you love something, set it free” sort of vibe. This change of focus throughout meant that I didn’t feel the story hung together quite as well as it might have, but this was a small niggle in the scheme of things.

Overall Dip Factor

This would be a great choice as a literacy link for primary school classes in the early years who are covering planets in science. Orson’s makey nature is also a good source of inspiration for getting little ones making their big ideas for real.

So what do you think of this duo? Better than a roast-Knight sandwich with a space food stick chaser, I suspect!

Until next time,

Bruce

Gabbing about Graphic Novels: The Park Bench…

Today’s graphic novel is a ode to the humble park bench from Christophe Chaboute.  We received The Park Bench from Allen & Unwin for review and here’s the blurb from Goodreads:

Chabouté’s enchanting story of a park bench was first published to critical acclaim in France in 2012. Faber now brings his work to the English-speaking world for the first time.

Through Chabouté’s elegant graphic style, we watch people pass, stop, meet, return, wait and play out the strange and funny choreography of life. Fans of The Fox and the Star, The Man Who Planted Trees and Richard Linklater’s Boyhood will find this intimate graphic novel about a simple park bench – and the people who walk by or linger – poignant, life-affirming and brilliantly original.

Target Age Range: 

Adult

Genre:

Contemporary, realism

Art Style:

Line drawings, cartoon

Reading time:

About twenty minutes in one sitting

Let’s get gabbing:

The Park Bench is a longitudinal look at the life and times of a simple park bench, as seen through the eyes of those who use it.

One might not expect a great deal of feels, as the young people say, to arise in a wordless story about an inanimate object, yet The Park Bench is chock full of poignancy and moments that are quietly heartbreaking. The book follows various folk as they interact (or not) with a simple park bench, from the young sweethearts who carve a memorial to their love into the bench, to the elderly couple who routinely use the bench to share a baked snack, to the homeless man who just wants to have a kip without being moved on by a recurrent policeman. Some characters seem to be bit players, with a very small story arc – such as the businessman who trudges past the bench on his way to and from work and the jogger who uses the bench as part of his fitness routine – while other characters’ stories unfold throughout the tale. The story of the homeless man is, I think, the most developed of the bunch and the ending to that story is both satisfying and somewhat irritating, although it does prompt reflection on the various uses to which one can put their life and the vagaries of changing allegiances.

This is a right old doorstop of a book, yet it took me a very short time to get through it, given its graphic novel format. I suspect it’s one that is meant to be flicked through again and again, to allow details that were missed the first time to come to the surface.

The ending of the park bench’s story is quite bittersweet and filled with the same sort of quiet rebellion and “coming full circle” that colour the stories of many of the characters with whom the park bench has a relationship.

Overall snapshot:

I enjoyed this one, but the sparsity of text and the need to look carefully at panels that alternate between mostly blank and filled with action may not be to everyone’s tastes.

 Until next time,

Bruce

 

Meandering Through Middle Grade: The Guggenheim Mystery…

What an interesting offering I have for you today!  I first encountered The London Eye Mystery by the late Siobhan Dowd back in 2008, a year or so after its release.  The story features Ted, a lad on the Autistic Spectrum, whose cousin Salim goes missing from one of the pods on the London Eye.  It is a brilliant locked room mystery story for middle grade and YA readers with an interesting narrator and compelling mystery.  Sadly, Siobhan Dowd, who was also the author with the original idea for David Almond’s excellent, now-turned-into-a-film book A Monster Calls, passed away from cancer in 2007 and it seemed that Ted and his mystery-solving prowess would be forever confined to a single tale.

Enter Robin Stevens, the author of brilliant historical schoolgirl detective series Murder Most Unladylike Mysteries, and Ted has been given a new lease on life.  Stevens was brought in to continue Siobhan’s story and with only a title to work from – The Guggenheim Mystery – she was thrust into the breach.  We received our copy from Netgalley for review and here’s the blurb from Goodreads:

My name is Ted Spark. I am 12 years and 281 days old. I have seven friends.

Three months ago, I solved the mystery of how my cousin Salim disappeared from a pod on the London Eye.

This is the story of my second mystery.

This summer, I went on holiday to New York, to visit Aunt Gloria and Salim. While I was there, a painting was stolen from the Guggenheim Museum, where Aunt Gloria works.

Everyone was very worried and upset. I did not see what the problem was. I do not see the point of paintings, even if they are worth £9.8 million. Perhaps that’s because of my very unusual brain, which works on a different operating system to everyone else’s.

But then Aunt Gloria was blamed for the theft – and Aunt Gloria is family. And I realised just how important it was to find the painting, and discover who really had taken it. 

It has to be said that Stevens was a great choice for carrying on Ted’s story, because she can work a mystery like nobody’s business.  Even though it had been years since I had read Ted’s story (and I think I read it twice in quick succession at the time), Ted’s style of narration was immediately recognisable and I quickly remembered the atmosphere of The London Eye Mystery.  Stevens has done a wonderful job of recreating Dowd’s characterisation of Ted, but there is a definite Stevens stamp on the construction of the mystery.

Being out of his everyday context, Ted at first struggles with the mysteries of human relationships, as his cousin Salim and sister Kat seem to be shutting him out for reasons that aren’t clear to Ted.  The early chapters of the book are coloured in part by Ted’s feeling of loneliness as he sees his two closest companions moving on without him.  Once the mystery of the stolen painting kicks off however, and it is clear that Aunt Gloria is being framed (pun intended?), the relationship rifts are quickly healed and Ted even attempts to look at his family’s behaviour from a different viewpoint.

The mystery part of the story felt very much like Steven’s Murder Most Unladylike setups, and it was clear that the theft and its various elements – the timing, the smoke bombs, the suspects – had been tightly plotted.  I did find that this story lacked the emotional connection that was so heightened in The London Eye Mystery – and is present in most of Dowd’s work – but I suspect that was only because this particular mystery dealt with a stolen painting rather than a missing child.  Given that the stakes were not quite as high in this particular story – the loss of the painting not being as emotionally charged as the potential loss or death of an actual person – I enjoyed the story but wasn’t blown away by it.

I think it must be said that Stevens has done a worthy job here of recreating a memorable character in a new setting with nothing more than a title to go on.  It would be interesting to see if this series will be developed further and whether that emotional element from the first story can be reinvented down the line.

If you haven’t read The London Eye Mystery, you should really seek it out.  If you have, you really ought to check out this next offering and see how you think it stands up.

Until next time,

Bruce

Picture Book Perusal: I Just Ate My Friend…

I’ve got a new book on the block for fans of subversive picture books of the style of Jon Klassen today, with I Just Ate My Friend by Heidi McKinnon.  We received our copy from Allen & Unwin for review and here’s the blurb from Goodreads:

This beautiful, innovate picture book from an enormously talented new creator will make you laugh out loud. The search for a true friend is something everyone can relate to – from the very young to the very old.

I just ate my friend. He was a good friend. But now he is gone. Would you be my friend?

A hilarious story about the search for friendship and belonging… and maybe a little bit about the importance of impulse control… from an amazing new creator.

I Just Ate My Friend by Heidi McKinnon.  Published by Allen & Unwin, 26th July 2017.  RRP:$24.99

A monster realises the error of his ways after eating its only friend. Will the quest for a new friend result in success…or dinner?  This was a totally fun read that resulted in a few bemused looks as the realisation dawned that the monster did actually just eat its friend and now required a replacement.  For friendship, that is.  Not for eating.  Definitely not.

The book reads like a cross between Please Mr Panda and Ugly Fish as once the friend has been eaten, the protagonist monster goes on a hunt for a new buddy, asking all manner of variously weird, winged, toothy, leggy creatures whether they’ll be its friend.  All the creatures asked have perfectly valid reasons for denying the request (except for the cranky looking fanged dragonfly thing that responds simply with a “No”) and it quickly becomes apparent that the monster may well have eaten its only friend.

There is definitely a Klassenesque feel about the story, with the eating of the friend presented bluntly, with no explanation as to why the monster may have felt the need to nosh on its only mate.  The monster differs from most of Klassen’s morally bankrupt characters however, in that it seems genuinely remorseful once the consequences of its actions become apparent.  Those who enjoy reading these subversive types of picture books can probably guess what happens in the end, but it will be no less of an enjoyable read for guessing correctly.

The illustrations consist of bold, bright colours set against a deep green, blue and black background and we just loved the array of strange creatures that populate the story.  The text comes in short bursts so the book is perfect for little ones just learning to read as they will quickly come to remember the words on each page thanks to the repetition in the text.

The best indicator that the mini-fleshlings enjoyed this book is that upon finishing it, they immediately requested that it be read again.  I’m not sure whether this had something to do with the disbelief of how the story ended, but they definitely wanted to go back and have a second look at this funny, quirky and just a little bit scary story.

Until next time,

Bruce

DNF with Massive Potential: Give Me the Child…

Although today’s book was a DNF for me, I would still heartily recommend it to you if you enjoy psychological thrillers featuring creepy children.  We received Give Me the Child by Mel McGrath from Harlequin Australia for review and here’s the blurb from Goodreads:

An unexpected visitor.

Dr Cat Lupo aches for another child, despite the psychosis which marked her first pregnancy. So when Ruby Winter, a small girl in need of help, arrives in the middle of the night, it seems like fate.

A devastating secret.

But as the events behind Ruby’s arrival emerge – her mother’s death, her connection to Cat – Cat questions whether her decision to help Ruby has put her own daughter at risk.

Do we get the children we deserve?

Cat’s research tells her there’s no such thing as evil. Her history tells her she’s paranoid. But her instincts tell her different. And as the police fight to control a sudden spate of riots raging across the capital, Cat faces a race against time of her own…

Even though I DNFed this at 81 pages (chapter nine), it is not for the reasons you expect.  In fact, for the 81 pages I read, I was engaged, creeped out and thoroughly looking forward to the storm of batsh*t crazy that was no doubt going to explode in the second half of the book.  The reason I put this book down is purely because I could no longer bear to read about one of the characters – Cat’s “King of the Manchildren” husband, Tom.

But back to the good bits.  The book is a psychological thriller based upon the question of what would one do if a long-lost child turned up on the doorstep needing sanctuary…but said child was also significantly emotionally damaged.  This is the situation in which Cat finds herself, when the product of Tom’s affair (undertaken when his wife was in the HOSPITAL, PREGNANT and suffering from PRE-NATAL PSYCHOSIS!!) is unexpectedly thrust into the bosom of their family after the death of the child’s mother.  From the get-go, Cat is uneasy about the arrangement (perfectly understandably, one would think) and as she goes about tying up the loose ends of the child’s life, discovers some events which give her pause…not least because Cat is a doctor who deals with children displaying characteristics of psychopathy.

The story begins to unfold as you would expect.  There are incidences that send a shiver up your spine.  Cat tries to be welcoming to Ruby (the child) but is conflicted by her resentment of her manchild husband whose manchild actions have caused such disruption to the family.  Tom begins to show more loyalty to Ruby than Cat.  The suspense is taut, the potential for exciting and thoroughly spine-tingling disaster is ready for tapping….

…but then I just snapped.  When Tom – philanderer, crap husband and emotionally immature asshat – tells Cat that she’s being paranoid (a direct attack designed to shame her for having a completely unavoidable episode of mental illness in pregnancy) and that he won’t get his new child (who has obviously experienced trauma and neglect) therapy in order to ease the transition into her new family, I could not stomach reading one more second of book that had Tom in it.  In fact, I was wishing fervently that Tom could somehow be whooshed out of this book and into the Game of Thrones series, there to be eviscerated by whatever would be the most painful means.

Perhaps my irritability trigger is heightened at the moment.

But I just couldn’t bear to share the story with Tom any more.

However, I would love to know how it ends.  If you do happen to read it – and I really hope you do because it has all the hallmarks of a spectacular psychological thriller – please let me know how it ends.

And if Tom somehow manages to get off scot-free, feel free to make up some horrible fate for him.  I’ll believe you.

Until next time,

Bruce

Fiction in 50 July Challenge: After Dinner…

Welcome to the Fiction in 50 micro-writing challenge for July, with the prompt:

If you’d like to join in, just create a piece of prose or poetry in fewer than 51 words and link it up in the comments section of this post.  For more detailed information on the challenge and future prompts, just click here.

I’ve gone with a somewhat grim interpretation of the prompt this month and have titled my contribution….

Insomniac

The last bites of dinner still redolent on his tongue signaled the beginning of the long, dead hours between this moment and the early hours in which the world would once again begin to stir.

He sighed. 

Stroked the cat beside him.

Braced himself to fend off the whispers.

---

 

I look forward to seeing what other people have come up with this month!

Our prompt for August will be…

Until next time,

Bruce

Meandering through Middle Grade: The Tale of Angelino Brown…

David Almond is one of those authors that many people categorise as an “auto-read”; that is, such is the strength of his previous work, any new work that is published will be snapped up immediately by his fans.  It’s a bit that way for we shelf-dwellers.  We loved Skelling, A Monster Calls and Heaven Eyes, for instance, but found some of his other books like Clay and The Savage a bit too dark and depressing.  The Tale of Angelino Brown which we received from Walker Books Australia for review, felt like something new from Almond.  The magical realism and quirkiness were all still there, but oozing out of the pages was a sense of hope and a lightness in tone that we hadn’t encountered in Almond’s work before.  Before I say too much more, here’s the blurb from Walker UK:

A warm and witty tale from a master storyteller, author of Carnegie Medal-winning Skellig and internationally bestseller The Boy Who Swam with Piranhas

Bert and Betty Brown have got themselves a little angel. Bert found him in his top pocket when he was driving his bus. Bert and Betty’s friends think he’s lovely. So do Nancy and Jack and Alice from Class 5K. What a wonder! But Acting Head Teacher Mrs Mole is not so sure. Nor is Professor Smellie. Or the mysterious bloke in black who claims to be a School Inspector. Then there’s Basher Malone – big, lumbering Basher Malone. He REALLY doesn’t like Angelino. And it looks like he’s out to get him…

There’s a real sense of joy that comes flitting through the text and images of this tome, from the opening lines of “Here we go. All aboard”, to the rosy-cheeked, golden-haired, flatulent angel of the cover.  This book felt quite uplifting to read throughout, which is not always the case with Almond’s work, and I couldn’t help but feel that this book would be a hit with both its intended young audience, and older readers who dared to venture into books for young readers.  The tone is generally light and humorous, without ever losing Almond’s signature sense of pathos directed toward certain of the more pitiable characters in the story.

The book opens on Bert Brown’s pondering about the deficiencies of the bus driving trade, when all of a sudden, Bert’s life is turned on its head by the discovery of an angel – a living, breathing, if somewhat flatulent and undersized angel!  The grumpy Bert brings the angel home to his wife Betty and the pair immediately become enamoured of the little creature and name him Angelino.  As the story moves on, Angelino becomes a treasured being among the children at the school at which Betty works as a lunch lady and with each passing connection, Angelino grows larger.  All is not well however, as unscrupulous and just plain unwise forces find out about Angelino and set into motion a plan to kidnap him for reasons nefarious.

This really is a delightful read, with lots of giggles to be had and a real sense of warmth about the quirky characters.  Almond has a way of making even the most odious of personalities at least pitiable, if not likeable, and there is much of that going on here with everyone from Kevin the Master of Disguise, to Mrs Mole the acting Headteacher and the truly monstrous Basher Malone.  Bert and Betty are the epitome of lovable however and felt like the true heart and soul of the book to me.

Themes of friendship, forgiveness and the forging of community can be found at various junctures of the story and Angelino, while never the most loquacious of characters, serves as a central focus around which unconnected characters come together.  The illustrations enhance the reading experience and wrap neatly around sections of text, giving extra life to the imagery generated by the writing.

I thoroughly recommend The Tale of Angelino Brown to current fans of Almond’s work as well as those who have never come across his work before.  I could see this being the perfect read aloud for a lower middle grade classroom, both for its humour and its gentle message of rallying around the vulnerable.

I’m going to submit this one for the Popsugar Reading Challenge, under category #47: a book with an eccentric character, because eccentricities abound in this one.  You can check out my progress toward my reading challenges here.

Until next time,

Bruce

 

Fiction in 50 June 2017 Challenge!

It’s time once again for Fiction in 50, where payers attempt to create a story in fewer than 51 words based on a monthly prompt.  This month our prompt is…

And I have titled my contribution…..

Predicting the Weather

It hadn’t looked like rain when Steve left the house.  Icy drops now splattered his hair as he huddled at the ill-covered bus stop.

An elderly woman, attired in rain-jacket and hat, smiled sympathetically, “No rainbow without rain.”

Steve smiled weakly back, a drip sliding down his collar.

It hadn’t looked like rain when he left the house.

---

I’m eight words over, but I can’t really be bothered to fix that at the moment.  The prompts for the next six months are now up and thanks to Rebecca Douglass, The Ninja Librarian, for suggesting three of the prompts.

Our prompt for July will be…

Until next time,

Bruce

 

Keep in a Cold, Dark Place: Good Advice for Potatoes and Monsters…

Today’s middle grade creepy, action tale features a brilliant cautionary tale for those who like to keep unusual pets at home.   We received Keep in a Cold, Dark Place by Michael F. Stewart from the publisher via Netgalley and here’s the blurb from Goodreads:

Reaching for her dream, Limpy unleashes a cute, fluffy, NIGHTMARE …

Keep in a cold, dark place. That’s what’s written like some ancient law on every bag of potatoes the family farms. And it’s where Limpy fears she will always remain.

It’s also carved on a box of spheres she discovers in the cellar. Spheres that hatch.

Cute at first, the creatures begin to grow. Then the chickens disappear. The cat is hunted. And something sets the barn ablaze. To survive, Limpy will need to face her greatest fear. The whole family will. Or they may end up in a cold, dark place indeed.

Limpy is the only daughter in her family and was unlucky enough to have her mother die while giving birth to her.  Her father is so stricken by grief that he keeps a potato-sack effigy of his dead wife in their home, her brothers are alternately bullying and selectively mute and Limpy wants nothing more than to escape her dreary existence and go to art school far away from their failing potato farm.  After discovering a strange box in the potato cellar, Limpy begins to hope that maybe her impossible dream isn’t so unlikely after all…but at the same time, she may have just unleashed an unholy terror onto the farm that could be the end of her broken family.

I thoroughly enjoyed this original and layered middle grade horror-action story. Other reviewers have compared the story to the film Gremlins and there are certainly shades of that fun film in the parts of the book relating to the “pets” that Limpy discovers, but in addition to that, Stewart has crafted an emotional story about grief, moving on and coping with change that is forced upon you.  There’s a definite atmosphere of oppression and depression that emanates from the descriptions of the farm and the town in general and the reader can definitely understand Limpy’s deep need for escape.  The depictions of Limpy’s family life were, at times, difficult to read as the grief and anger of her father, particularly, is raw and toxic despite the passing of time.

When the creatures that Limpy discovers stop being so cute and fluffy in favour of being more scaly and rampaging, the book alternates between bursts of chaotic action and poignant personal discoveries, as Limpy and her family face their deepest fears in order to save themselves.  Part of the emotional draw at the end of the story, I think, depends on the fact that Limpy is the only girl in this part of the story, and it is her older brothers and father (as well as some male neighbours) that have to put aside their bravado and acknowledge those things that make them frightened and hold them back.

I love that the author has selected a monster that isn’t so common in children’s literature, or “monster” stories generally, so the book provides an opportunity for young readers to discover a legend that they may not have encountered before.  I would highly recommend this book to adventurous young readers who enjoy action and fantasy elements blended with real-life problems.

I’m submitting this one for the Colour Coded Reading Challenge 2017 in the brown category.  Check out my progress toward the challenge here.

Until next time,

Bruce