peer pressure

The Ethan I was Before by Ali Standish and Truth or Dare by Non Pratt

It’s funny how books bucket together. In the past two months I’ve read three books with ‘dares’ as their theme – I Dare You by Reece Wykes, a picture book for the young at heart with a wry sense of humour, Truth or Dare by Non Pratt, a most excellent YA novel with some hard truths at heart, and The Ethan I was Before, a middle grade novel with a dare at its core.

In The Ethan I Was Before, twelve-year-old Ethan is moved with his family to live with his grandfather in Georgia, a far cry from the Boston he is used to. Allegedly the move is to help his grandfather, although it soon becomes apparent that his grandfather is an independent soul, and the move is to remove Ethan from an uncomfortable incident in his past.

Ethan’s relationship with his angry older brother, his new relationship with Coralee (an enigmatic girl he meets at school), and the exploration of his new town make up the bulk of the novel, but all the time the reader is aware of a past secret that Ethan is hiding.

Standish’s prose pulls in the reader from the beginning. There are some key phrases that show flashes of great writing, her similies are excellent and create an authentic sense of place: she describes the air at one point with “humidity like a wet fleece blanket”. Her characterisations too are neat and winning, from her portrayal of forthright and keenly intelligent Mack, who runs the local store, to Ethan’s Mum, who tends to burn food because she forgets having put it in the oven in an endearingly absentminded preoccupation. Standish also has a handle on the unsophisticated twelve-year-old way of trying to describe in words the complex emotions of guilt and anxiety. She also focuses on what Ethan’s therapist has told him to do, extrapolating the way Ethan is feeling without laying it too bare for the readership:

“It’s almost funny, that everything that would make a normal person happy is what makes me feel the most sad.”

And yet, it’s the not laying it bare that holds this book back from being as good as it should be. The ‘secret’ in the past is too often alluded to by Ethan’s family, and himself, and yet doesn’t feel real. Because they are all holding back so much, the constant nudges that there is something else going on, or something big that happened in the past, feel too contrived. Although in real life, we all do keep back parts of ourselves, even in some cases from ourselves, one feels that Ethan’s family would talk more frankly – particularly his brother – or that Ethan, who narrates the story in first person, would be slightly more honest with himself and with the readership. It doesn’t sit well that he hides the past from himself, because it doesn’t fit with his character.

On the whole this was a really enjoyable book; I just felt that it could have been bigger. With slightly more depth and more subtlety, the past could have been explored in more detail and led to a weightier novel. So the denouement, when it comes, feels half-hearted, and I wanted the ‘dare’ to be more dramatic. But for glimpses of what Standish can do, and with the possibility that there is better to come, this is an intriguing debut. It will fit the bill nicely for a summertime coming-of-age novel, and gives a great sense of small town America. You can buy it here.

For meatiness I’d go to the YA coming-of-age title, Truth or Dare by Non Pratt. Although the production at first seems gimmicky, in that the first part is narrated by main character Claire Casey, leaving the story on a cliffhanger, with the second part physically flipped over so that the reader has to turn the book upside down and start from the other end to read the other main character, Sef’s narration continuing the plot, the story itself is far from contrived. In fact, it becomes swiftly apparent reading part two that this consecutive narration adds depth and substance.

Kam Malik suffers a life-changing injury after a stupid stunt goes wrong. Claire, shy and unobtrusive, volunteers at his rehabilitation clinic. When she gets to know Kam’s brother, Sef, together they come up with a scheme to raise much-needed funds to maintain his rehabilitation. It’s a Truth or Dare YouTube campaign, but before long their truths collide and their dares take things too far.

Non Pratt has a magnificent turn of phrase that enables description without the reader feeling they’re reading any. The plot is deft and agile – the book skips along punctuated with accurate and authentic dialogue, and a look into the innermost thoughts of her narrators, which is, at times, devastating.

What shines through is the depth of characterisation, as at first the reader, through Claire’s eyes, really likes Sef Malik, but what soon becomes apparent through his point of view in part two, is that no one shows their true self to everyone, and that people aren’t kind or unkind throughout. Everyone has their motivations, demons, and selfishness. Pratt wheels through a host of issues including prejudice, fame, guilt, and love without once making this an issue novel. It’s a gripping read, as tumultuous as Claire’s relationship with Sef, and deeply satisfying. You can buy it here.

 

Embarrassing Parents

It’s Father’s Day today, so for a little twist, I thought I’d feature tween books with embarrassing mums instead.

The omg blog

The OMG Blog by Karen McCombie

I was quite smitten with this slim gem of a book from the cover – which is a bit different and highly coveted by many of my readers. The book is about four secondary school girls who are thrown together for a school project, and find something in common: they all have embarrassing mums.

But far from being snipey, or menacing, this is a super little tale that shows how to make new friends, to work together and develop loyalty, as well as using empathy to be able to see parents in a new light.

Four girls meet in detention, and although seemingly different on the surface, take part in a blogging competition together. The one thing they have in common is their embarrassing mums – and they make a blog on the subject the ‘Our Mums – Grrr’ Blog – OMG. The blog is hugely successful, but will their mums discover who they’re writing about?

One of the most striking changes that happens to children in their early teens is the different way in which they view their parents. As science has shown, this is to do with conflict created by the development of the brain’s frontal lobes during adolescence, which for a short period of time means that teens can be more impulsive and are more susceptible to poorer judgement.

What makes this novel particularly clever is that the mothers (and families) aren’t out the ordinary – the embarrassment of the girls, and their frustration with their mothers, stem from small incidences that mothers do, from being too involved in their daughters’ school, to dressing and talking loudly, to befriending their children on social media. It’s tame, and yet real.

Karen McCombie is a skilful and experienced children’s writer, and she manages to create well-defined characters and a well-crafted story in quite a condensed novel. She also promotes online safety through careful writing, not preaching to her readership, but merely portraying how the internet can be used for good – an intelligent view of our current online world.

It’s a light-hearted novel, good for a quick read or for reluctant readers, with the main narrative interspersed with the girls’ blogs and the comments of their peers. As a parent, this is a reassuring read – it promotes good friendship, appreciation of family (no matter their quirks) and safe use of the online world. Highly recommended for age 9+ years. You can buy it here.

the parent problem

The Parent Problem by Anna Wilson

Another light-hearted, easy-to-read novel featuring a Year 8 girl called Skye Green, who is also mortified by her mother’s behaviour. Her mother wears bizarre clothing, dabbles in new hobbies, and invites the new neighbour’s son to babysit – even though he’s only a year older than Skye.

Told in the first person, and dotted with excerpts from Skye’s diary, the whole story is told from her own point of view, so that the reader is truly immersed in her life. Of course, that’s part of Skye’s problem – she’s extremely self-involved, and once Wilson adds to the mix Skye’s penchant for being impulsive and jumping to conclusions, it makes for some highly comic reading as the reader sees through her story.

The serious side is explored in Skye’s relationship with her best friend – as they move into adolescence it becomes apparent that loyalty towards each other is waivering as their interests start to differ, as well as their differing views on boys – one friend maturing before the other can be a tricky part of tweendom to navigate. Anna Wilson exploits every teen’s fear of losing friendship, and explores the perceived hurts and betrayals on both sides. There’s also a focus on bullying in today’s world, as Skye’s own embarrassing moments are filmed by her peers on their phones and shared widely. The perpetrators of this seem not to be punished though, merely threatened by others with their own embarrassing moments – perhaps this is truer to life than the adult world intervening.

Skye’s mother does intervene in her daughter’s best friend problems though, and helps her to navigate through – despite being embarrassing, it turns out mothers can be good listeners.

This is a comforting read – it doesn’t push any boundaries, but merely lays out friendship struggles and points to the perils of narcissism. When Skye finally sees beyond her own dramas, she embraces her family wholeheartedly.

There are many endearing and warming features about this book – from the boy next door, who is portrayed as far from perfect but completely adorable in his own way, to Skye’s obsession with books – she talks about what she’s reading and why she likes it – almost like a recommendation list within a book, which explores a breadth of reading and is good fun. This reader obviously particularly enjoyed that aspect. The interplay between school and home life is well depicted, as are themes of jealousy, younger siblings, and realising that parents are humans too. You can purchase it here.

 

No Angry Birds Here

It’s walk to school week this week. I’m one of those smug people who walk to school every day, but although the walk is the same, what we see and hear changes from day to day, season to season. There’s traffic of course, but a field to stroll across too, and that’s where we see wildlife. We skip over the slugs, avoid squashing the snails, dart away from dogs, and flap at flies. But we see some beautiful birds, so here are five fiction books – one for each school day this week – about birds!

dave pigeon

Monday: Dave Pigeon by Swapna Haddow, illustrated by Sheena Dempsey

Not unlike The Unbelievable Top Secret Diary of Pig by Emer Stamp, Haddow has written a riotously funny book from the point of view of a pigeon – in fact the strapline betrays the fact that the book is almost a manual for pigeons – ‘How to Deal with Bad Cats and Keep (most of) Your Feathers.’ Dempsey’s hilarious pigeon on the front, wrapped in bandages, declares in a speech bubble that this is the best book you’ll ever read. It is certainly one of the funniest.

Pigeons Dave and Skipper are friends. But their common enemy is Mean Cat, and through the book they relay (in narrative and conversational speech bubbles) their attempt to defeat the cat and oust it from its comfortable home with Human Lady – taking the cat’s place, especially because the Human Lady has the nice biscuits with jam in the middle. The text reads in part through speech bubbles, but even when there is traditional narrative, it’s interspersed by the two pigeons bantering as they attempt to tell the story.

Their plans to outwit Mean Cat grow more and more absurd, but are always extremely funny. The pigeon’s point of view and language is exceptionally rendered with silly humour and observation:

“I lay back on the lawn. The grass dazzled greener, the sky shone bluer and the washing line looked lineier. Life was cat-free and felt birdrilliant!”

With a surprising ending, and equally comical illustrations from Dempsey, this is a title for younger readers to grab and adore. Look in particular for the full page illustrations in which the pigeons wait for rain. For ages 6+. Fly to your copy here.

tufty

Tuesday: Tufty by Michael Foreman
A gentle picture book about losing one’s family but finding a mate in Michael Foreman’s new book. As with many of his illustrations, they feel traditional – rendered first as sketches and then painted.

Tufty is placed firmly in London – he’s a duck that lives in the middle of the lake near the royal palace – in a nice touch the human royalty are drawn as being rather birdlike, and are addressed by the Mother Duck as ‘The Royal Duck and Duckess.’ But the story isn’t really about royalty – it tells the tale of Tufty flying south for winter, but losing his family in the process.

Perhaps an environmental comment lies within, as Tufty flies beautifully over Hyde Park – the Albert Memorial depicted lovingly from a bird’s eye view, but then the small duck gets lost among the cranes and towering buildings of London. The orange cranes and glass buildings are distinctive by their lack of distinction from each other.

Tufty is rescued by a homeless man, and then eventually finds his own duck mate back near the palace. The scenes of nature feel homely and gentle, with a wash of colours across the sky that reflect in the lake. All in all, an uplifting story – young readers will like the homeless man’s hollow in the tree, and the tenderness of finding a home, wherever it may be. Take one home with you here.

swan boy

Wednesday: Swan Boy by Nikki Sheehan

Swans and metamorphosis have long gone together – from narrative roots in Leda and the Swan to Russian folk stories such as The White Duck, and the Grimm’s Six Swans, as well as the ballet Swan Lake, and the contemporary film Black Swan.

Nikki Sheehan infuses her latest book with magic realism. She tells of a boy grieving for his father and suffering the agonies of starting a new school, and yet weaves in subtle fantasy and magic by gradually layering swan attributes and feathers on his body at the same time as an inspirational teacher at school persuades him to dance in her production of Swan Lake.

The story works because the contemporary London setting, the character of Johnny and his mother and brother, as well as his peers around him, feel so real that long before the swan metamorphosis becomes an issue, the reader is sucked into the story. The writing is so solid and the characters so rounded that its even believable that bully Liam and his cronies, and Johnny become fully immersed in a Matthew Bourne type production of a ballet to be performed in front of the school.

If anything, Sheehan could have pushed the ‘darkness’ of Johnny’s discovery of feathers on his body a little further – but the novel wins hands down in its portrayal of his character – his rising to the responsibility of caring for his little brother Mojo (who himself is fully realised with his penchant for drawing and his own reaction to his father’s death), and also in Johnny’s realisation that friendship takes work and sacrifice. The slight shift to Liam’s point of view didn’t garner my sympathy, but the story as a whole was compelling and page-turning.

This is a good poignant study of the effects of bereavement on a family (for this audience) and a solid plot that moves quickly and effortlessly. Thoroughly enjoyable. For 10+ years. Buy a copy here.

seagull and cat

Thursday: The Story of the Seagull and the Cat who taught her to Fly by Luis Sepulveda, illustrated by Satoshi Kitamura

Books in translation can be hard to get into – the rhythms and what’s suitable for children can vary country to country – but this quirky story of a seagull (and mainly a cat) is worth persevering with. A gull, stricken in an environmental oil spill, gives birth to an egg, and leaves a dying wish that the cat, Zorba (who is the last animal she sees) nurture her baby and teach it to fly.

As with all good literature, it’s the characters that forge through and make the book. And this cat, together with his gang, is no exception. Completely anthropomorphised, he shoulders the responsibility with pride and a little anxiety, using his friends the Colonel, the Secretario and Einstein – the last of which rapidly searches for answers to everything in an encyclopedia. The cats themselves are fairly eccentric, and owned by even more eccentric humans, and the book is flooded with humour because of this.

The second part is most endearing as the gull hatches and the impetus is on the cats to teach it to fly – they try to study da Vinci’s flying machine for clues. It’s for a mature reader – one who can handle the vocabulary, but underneath that is a beautiful tale of friendship, perseverance and identity, as well as age-old themes of life and death.

Kitamura’s illustrations bring the story to life, adding humour, expression and unique characteristics to each personality – and should be savoured. A classic from Chile. For age 8+ years. Buy it here.

dawn chorus

Friday: The Dawn Chorus by Suzanne Barton

From the complex to the unassuming – this picture book is beautiful by way of its simplicity. Peep hears a beautiful song upon waking and wishes to know what it is. On discovering it’s the Dawn Chorus, he is invited to join in if he can audition. Unfortunately for him, he’s just not an early bird kind of a bird, and fails to turn up on time, then fails to stay awake during the audition the following morning.

Of course it’s not his fault, it turns out he’s a nightingale – and dawn is the wrong time of day for him to sing.

Suzanne Barton has managed to express the beauty of bird song through her renderings of colour in this picture book – from the leaves on the front cover to the luscious harmony of reds, oranges and yellows of the gathered birds of the dawn chorus. Each bird is drawn to be plump with patterned wings and tails – almost collage-like in their depiction. It gives them a cuteness, and yet doesn’t completely sentimentalise them.

Young children will delight in the hanging musical notes in the air, the bird conductor with baton in hand, and the delightfully tender ending. It’s uplifting, a lovely introduction to birds and nocturnal animals, and about persevering for what you want and who you are. Take home your own dawn chorus here.

Anti-bullying Week

It’s national anti-bullying week. I have wanted to bring these two books to your attention for some time – they are brilliantly written, fantastic stories, which shout to be read. They both feature a group of bullies – one more prevalent in the story than the other, but what shines over and above the bullies is the discovery of true friendship.

storm horse

Storm Horse by Nick Garlick

A page turner of a book, Storm Horse is about 12 year old Flip, an orphaned boy, who is taken in by his aunt and uncle, whom he barely knows, on an island off Holland. At first he spends all his time helping out on their farm, but when a terrible storm engulfs the island, Flip shows immense bravery in rescuing a horse from drowning in the sea. He is allowed to keep the horse, provided that he shows he can care for it himself – but the horse is more troublesome than the storm itself.

Under constant menace from a group of local bullies, Flip and his cousin, as well as a ghostly mute girl, must battle against the bullies and the weather to triumph.

The story isn’t set in a specific time, but the atmosphere of the island is of a time past, in which the island’s lifeboat is launched into the sea by horses, music is played on a record player, and life is set at a slower pace. The wonderful community spirit that pervades the island is magical to read about – with farmers volunteering their services for lifeboat work, and everyone knowing and helping each other. It is very much a depiction of a different time and a different place (particularly for modern urban readers.)

There are many strands running through this timeless story – from the way in which Flip finally overcomes the bullies, to the friendships that develop between himself and his cousin and the strange mute girl. Garlick also explores Flip’s friendship with the horse. Storm, which allows Flip to develop self-confidence, self-awareness, and to find solace in this particular friendship as a way of overcoming his grief. It is common in children’s literature for a child’s relationship with an animal to provide a special type of comfort. The power of nature is also a force within the story.

Moreover, the story deals with grief in many ways – from Flip’s grief for his parents to the mute girl’s grief, and the grief of the islanders for the loss of life and horses in a storm, as well as grief for the way of life that might be lost. It was interesting too to see a book deal with adults who are being bullied – and how they overcome this adversity. For 10+ years. Buy it here from Waterstones

butterfly shell

The Butterfly Shell by Maureen White

There is potential bullying of adults in The Butterfly Shell too – but the main bullying happens at school. Maureen White excels with her depictions of female friendships in the early years of secondary school – she is both perceptive and astute as she describes the delicate hierarchies and shifting friendships at school that can be affected by home life, appearance, and self-confidence.

Moreover, the overarching hook as to why the main character, Marie, feels so hit upon is ingenious. Called ‘other Marie’ by the bullies at school, simply because she is not the Marie who is in the popular girls’ group, the damage goes far beyond school, as it is revealed that her parents named her after her older sister, who sadly died as a baby and was called Marie. Of course the bullies at school have no way of knowing this, but the damage is done.

Told in the first person narrative, the reader feels deeply for Marie, even when she acts wrongly, and messes up. In fact, she starts to self-harm, which is portrayed in the most realistic and sympathetic way I have yet encountered in a book for this age group – beginning with the picking of a scab.

The text is simple and minimal, as is the story – but its effect is long-lasting. It shows the consequences of teen girls’ actions, and the incredibly complex relationship between parents and teenagers – the latter wanting to please, and yet also protect their parents, at the same time as still wanting to be ‘parented’ by them. As in Storm Horse, there is a therapeutic relationship with an animal (a dog) too. However, the cleverness of the writing is what penetrates the reader – the plays on words, superstitions, and the understanding of the psychology of teen girls.

Maureen White also incorporates modern technology into her piece about bullying – from Stella’s phone trick, to the intimidating text messages that reach school girls out of school hours and cause untold misery.

The book ends with a great moral conclusion – that it’s good to talk, that self-confidence stops bullies, and that self-harming is never okay. For 12+years. Buy it here from Waterstones.

 

With thanks to Chicken House and O’Brien publishers for sending review copies.

 

Imaginary Friends

If you include the premise that an imaginary friend can be based on an object – a very special stuffed animal for example, as well as the completely made up illusion of a friend, then about 65 per cent of children have had one*. Take out the stuffed animal, and that leaves about 37 per cent. It’s a common phenomenon.

Not all imaginary friends are born out of loneliness. According to Marjorie Taylor from the University of Oregon, author of Imaginary Companions and the Children Who Create Them, children make up imaginary friends for many different reasons. Interestingly, girls tend to create characters who need nurturing, some boys create aspirational characters who are born from their own sense of who they want to be.

Imaginary friends abound in children’s books, from Hobbes and Soren Lorensen, to the Wild Things and Beekle. Two recent additions to the canon are:

imaginary fred

Imaginary Fred by Eoin Colfer and Oliver Jeffers
A picture book for older children, this explores friendship and transience. Imaginary Fred moves the imaginary friend centre stage. Fred, our imaginary friend depicted in small turquoise dots by Jeffers, in comparison to the ‘real’ people who are in black and white, floats in the wind and waits for lonely children to summon him. Of course, what he longs for most is permanence, as most of the time he is discarded when a ‘real’ friend comes along. In the end, he gets his happy ending, but not as the reader first envisages.

Colfer’s message at the end is that all friendship is real, in whichever guise it comes. And also that friendships shift and change during childhood, as do a child’s interests. Interestingly, the real children in this picture book are often depicted as being cruel to their imaginary friend in the pictures Jeffers draws, although not necessarily in the text. Colfer imagines that Fred tries to be the best friend that he possibly can, with Jeffers drawing in what Fred has to put up with – from being imagined as a witch with the little boy stabbing him with a sword and yelling ‘Die, Evil Witch’, to another boy imagining Fred naked and laughing at his humiliation. It’s an interesting twist and can lead to discussion on how far we go to be a friend, and what that entails. Of course, it also shows great comedic potential.

The children’s use of ‘imaginary Fred’ displays their vivid imaginations, but perhaps, as with all our imaginations, allows us to do things that we wouldn’t do in ‘real’ life. This is where the book gets really interesting.

Because Colfer and Jeffers have turned the premise around so that the reader sides with the ‘imaginary’ person – the one who demonstrates emotions, as opposed to the ‘real’ children. In fact, Imaginary Fred fades a little bit each time  he is discarded – he wants a forever friend, and needs the illusion of permanence.

As always in Jeffers’ books there is much added detail in the illustrations, from the wonderful attitudes of the couple on the bench in the first scene, to the eyebrows on Frieda. Check out also the author references in the books that the boys read. And when Jeffers plays with the pictures, so Colfer plays with the text. The whole story is told very much ‘to you’ the reader, as if the reader is alone. It’s a neat device, and by the end the reader has a friend – because the author is calling you and all the other readers friends:
“And this, dear friends, is the interesting thing that happened.”
So you aren’t alone any more either.

There is also wonderful comedy for adults throughout the book, from the depiction of the teachers at the school concert, to the audience in the Carnegie Hall. Trademark Jeffers abounds with his famous noses and his squigglish captions. The pen-inked drawings contrast beautifully with Colfer’s full-bodied lively text.

Not for the very small, but a book to be treasured by all. If you find it lying on the sofa, it’s probably because your imaginary friend was reading it. Again and Again. You can buy it here.

honey and me
Honey and Me by Karen McCombie
A very different book from that above, but of equal importance. According to Marjorie Taylor’s study, school age children still had imaginary friends – they might have changed and they were more likely to have purely imaginary friends than stuffed toy friends – but they were still there. Honey and Me tells the story of Kirsten, who is starting at a new secondary school without her old friends, who are going to a different school, and she is coping with various issues at home because her Dad has lost his job. She turns to her friend Honey, who is a great listener, and has been in Kirsten’s life for a long time. In fact she always turns up when Kirsten needs her, even when they haven’t seen each other for quite a while.

Kirsten realises that Honey is still there for her, and not only helps her to think things through more carefully, but comes up with solutions for some of her problems. Her forever friend is a good listener and a troubleshooter. It is only near the end of the book that it becomes apparent that Honey is a purely imaginary friend – and Kirsten is desperate for the ‘real’ girls at school not to find out about her. Kirsten eventually finds the courage to bond with the ‘real’ people in her life, and gets her happy ending.

This is a moving book for those children coming to terms with growing up, dealing with difficult issues in life, and making new friends. It’s a great short story by an experienced storyteller, and published by dyslexia specialists Barrington Stoke. A highly recommended read. Ages 8-12 yrs. You can buy it here.

 

*Marjorie Taylor, University of Oregon studies

 

 

 

Goodbye Stranger by Rebecca Stead

goodbye stranger

Every so often a writer comes along who weaves magic with every book. Rebecca Stead’s books are insightful and compelling, her words flow off the page like cake batter into the tin. Her books are always unputdownable; and always ask questions.

So, it comes as no surprise to find that her latest follows suit. Set in New York, Goodbye Stranger tells three interlocking narratives: Bridge, a girl stepping into seventh grade (Year 7), and navigating her friendships, and pondering the question of life after miraculously living through a terrible car accident when she was eight years old; Sherm, who is coming to terms with the breakup of his grandparents’ long marriage and puzzling the meaning of love; and a third mystery strand told in the rare second-person narrative: “You paint your toenails. You don’t steal nail polish, though”. The three strands build together until all is revealed at the end of the book.

Topically dealing with internet safety, body image and of course the ever-present problems of friendship and peer pressure at this pivotal point of adolescence, Stead handles her young teens with emotional depth, wonderful empathy and adroitness. These are children with whom the reader immediately identifies, and wishes well. The reader waits on tenterhooks to see if everything will turn out alright. The dialogue sits well, and as always, New York springs to life under Stead’s pen.

All in all, this is the quintessential story for this age group – it discusses and makes you ponder what it means to be yourself – it pulls out arguments about identity. How much do we fit in with our peers or strike out on our own? How much of ourselves do we show to our parents or our friends? These are key questions of identity for this age group, and the book handles them responsibly without once becoming patronising.

As mentioned before the prose is idyllic – “Bridge woke to the sound of the cello. Her {mom’s} music reminded Bridge of picking wildflowers – she started with something thin and simple and then kept adding new sounds, all different shapes and colors, until she had something explosive. But in the mornings her mom tried to explode very quietly, so that the people downstairs didn’t get annoyed.”

Stead’s book is a pleasure to read from start to finish. I only wish I hadn’t read it so quickly! You can order your copy here.
For the 11+ years crowd.

Please note the book does contain a narrative about sending selfies of various poses by mobile phone.

Andersen Press very kindly sent me a copy of this book to review.