The Ghosts of Tupelo Landing

Last year, I returned from #ALA12 with a book I knew little about, but which looked great while browsing the stacks.  That book was great and I wasn't the only one who thought so, it won a Newbery Honor Award. Three Times Lucky by Sheila Turnage is a gem.  You can read my reflection here.

This year, at #ALA13, I heard about the early bound manuscripts of The Ghosts of Tupelo Landing, the sequel to Three Times Lucky. I hot footed it to the Penguin Booth and got myself a copy.

Yesterday was rainy. Yesterday was a reading day.  A full-on - curled-into-the-couch, tea-consuming, cookie-munching - reading day.

I am so glad I had ample time to spend with Mo and Dale, Miss Lacy Thornton, Miss Lana and the Colonel, and many other Tupelo Landing friends and foes alike.  I love leaving my New England surroundings behind and spending a little time down south, in Sheila Turnage's wonderfully crafted town of Tupelo Landing.  I even picked up a few "social skills" (you will understand this reference when you read the book).

The Ghosts of Tupelo Landing feels like picking back up with friends you haven't seen in a while -- not much has changed, but a lot is going on.  

Sheila Turnage spins a great yarn.  I cannot wait to put this ghost story, which will be sufficiently scary for my, "Do you have an scary books?" readers. The sale of an abandoned inn, along with its resident ghost, stirs up painful memories and buried history.  I don't want to give much away, suffice to say, all the characters, living and dead, are equally endearing. 

The Ghosts of Tupelo Landing reminds me of Diamond in the Window by Jane Langton, a book I read over and over again as a young child.   But The Ghosts of Tupelo Landing is not just a ghost story, like Three Times Lucky, it is a story of significance and much more depth.  It explores: how truth and rumor impact our lives; the gift of forgiveness (whether it is due or not); the pain and confusion, but also freedom of letting go; and, ultimately, what it means to be part of a community.

This book will satisfy any readers of it's predecessor.  I have no doubt there will be a queue forming to the left...

Mr. Tiger Goes Wild ... by the river

I was heading to the river for a swim and picked up 

Mr. Tiger Goes Wild by Peter Brown.

It seemed fitting to bring this book with me to my own wild haven.

I gave Mr. Tiger a tour.

Settled him on a rock

and went for my swim.

I then sat down to read the book.

I. Love. This. Book.

All of it - 

-the writing, the art, the weight of the paper, the feel of it in your hands, the journey along which it takes the reader.

It's a gem, just like the ones I seek in this river.

(Stay tuned - for the full review next month.)

The Boy on the Porch

Yesterday was the first real day of summer.  

I said goodbye to the students on Wednesday and on Thursday, I wished colleagues a relaxing summer and promptly flew out to Chicago for the American Library Association Annual Conference. It was an amazing whirlwind of booklove - but more on that later. I flew back on Monday and on Tuesday, I packed up for the summer and headed for the north country, where I promptly unpacked. 

Which brings me to yesterday, the first real day of summer.

I feel significant pressure to make this day remarkable, to somehow savor its goodness.  Therefore, whatever I choose to do must fit into this paradigm of pressure.  A swim (or two) in the river is always a must, along with a visit to my mother's garden and watching the sunset while sitting on the back porch.  "How else to fill my day?" Can better be answered by, "Which book shall I read?"  

You see my dilemma.  So much pressure placed on that first book of summer.  I had better choose a good one.  And I did.

I read Sharon Creech's The Boy on the Porch on my porch.

The Boy on the Porch is a beautiful and satisfying read. 

It is the story of a young couple that find a boy on their porch, a boy who does not speak, but who communicates in ways that make his, and their, world come alive.  Sharon Creech is a master and she has crafted a story that explores the beauty and heartache of unconditional love.

Without telling too much I will share some things I loved about the book.

I love the relationship between the young couple, Marta and John.  They know what the other person is thinking and the sentences left unfinished and the questions that are left unanswered are the ones too painful to finish or answer.  I love how they rely on each other as they take this unfamiliar journey. (I kept picturing them as older, even though I knew they were young.  I think this was because I selfishly wanted to identify with them, I wanted to be able to put myself in their shoes.)

I love the boy, Jacob.  His gentle spirit is heartwarming and his joy with the world around him is infectious.  Watching himself find and express his "voice" is an experience not to miss.

I love how they trade everyday objects for things for the boy and how these things give him a voice.  This act of giving away a necessary object, for one that might seem frivolous, but is most definitely not, is an act of love and devotion.

I love how Sharon creates threads in her stories, as with how the sheriff draws his fingers across his badge to polish it when speaking with someone.  This subtle gesture, aptly repeated in specific moments on the text, creates a marker for a moment in the story and draws the reader back to those moments.

And here is an excerpt, it's describing the boy, but I think it also describes what Sharon Creech has accomplished in this book.  

"It was as if he were re-creating the sounds of the forest and the dawn and the mountains, all rolled together. The sounds moved John and Marta greatly.  One minute they would be smiling and soon after they were close to tears.  It was as if the boy had control over their minds and bodies."  

You can replace Sharon's name for the boy and my name for the John and Marta.  I laughed, I cried.  I felt sated.  Marta, John, Jacob and their journey will stay with me long after this summer.

Second Graders share what they learned about...

...some very cool animals!

The second graders have been learning about animals that live on the African continent.  They have been using both online and print encyclopedias as well as nonfiction books.  It has been exciting to watch them take ownership over the process. Taking good notes was an integral part of the process.  I loved watching the students work hard to write down  "words and phrases that were in their own words" as well as illustrate or draw their new found knowledge.

Hearing a child stand up and lean over a computer to share new information with a classmate: 

"My animals eats what your animal leaves behind."  

"My animals eats your animal!" 

"My animal can be as long as a station wagon!"

The students produced nonfiction "All About" books for their animals.  They also created a Kid Pix slide that had to demonstrate the habitat of the animal along with a picture of the animal and some facts.  Here are their slides.

On leaving my fifth graders with a lasting impression

Yesterday, I saw my 5th graders for the last time as their library teacher.  Each year it is harder to say goodbye -- six years is a long time and they grow and mature in ways that are both predictable and surprising.

I always feel this need to leave the 5th graders with some lasting impression - a great story, a fun project...something.

I sat in front of them yesterday and asked them, "What is the last thing you think I would want to see you do?"  The expected litany of responses ensued:  "Destroy a book;"  "Spill water in a book;" "Write in a book;" and, "Not read."

I proceeded to share this need to leave them with a "lasting impression."  I took a book out from behind my back, opened it and ripped out a page.  Right.  I was going for dramatic effect...and it worked.  With this page, I showed them how to create a blackout poem.

I then ripped out a page and handed it to each student as they walked by.  It was incredible.

Part of the drama surrounded the book I was using,  Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban.  (This book had been glued and taped beyond measure and was now no longer repairable.)

The library was then filled with an angst-like noise of something that is difficult and hard to grasp.  Gradually, the din grew into something closer to productive noise - it grew quieter yet bubbly as students found their rhythm and began to get excited about the poems they were creating.  Check it out.

Did I make a lasting impression?  

I think so.