Carie Juettner

Carie’s Lists: 10 YA & MG Books That Deserve More Readers

I love reading books for kids and I love talking about books for kids. Most of the titles I mention to fellow kidlit readers get nods of recognition or at least the comment, “I’ve heard of that. Is it good?” But lately I’ve seen more and more blank looks when I mention certain titles, so I decided to do some investigating. The following ten books have been rated by fewer than 900 people on Goodreads, and for many the number is much lower. However, I’ve given them all at least three stars, sometimes four or five.

I think these books, which have been passed over for some reason, deserve another look. There’s good stuff here– memorable characters, touching stories, and a lot of diversity. Take a moment to scan the list and see if there’s not at least one book you or your child might be interested in reading.

[Note: All summary information is from Goodreads unless otherwise noted.]

1. The Little Leftover Witch by Florence Laughlin – 1960

A little lost witch undergoes a magical transformation when she’s loved by a human family in this heartwarming story. When Felina, a little witch, breaks her broom on Halloween and can’t fly home, she is stuck with the Doon family and their black cat, Itchabody, for an entire year. Although she’s homesick and unhappy, the Doon parents and their daughter, Lucinda, do their best to make Felina feel welcome. (And she has no trouble with Itchabody at all!) As time passes, the mischievous Felina learns what it means to be part of a family—and how, with love, she will always belong.

My Rating – 5 stars

My Comments – This is such a beautiful little story. It’s not at all what I thought it was going to be, but I absolutely loved it. To see my full review, click here.

2. How to Disappear Completely and Never Be Found by Sara Nickerson – 2003

Margaret’s father died in a mysterious drowning accident when she was eight years old. Four years later, her mother still won’t talk about it — in fact, she doesn’t talk about much of anything. But when Margaret’s mother takes her and her little sister, Sophie, to a strange abandoned mansion and puts a FOR SALE BY OWNER sign in the front yard, Margaret is determined to solve the puzzle of her family, once and for all.

Armed with three strange clues — a swimming medal, a key, and a handwritten comic book — Margaret returns to the mansion alone. With the help of Boyd, the lonely, comic-book-obsessed boy next door, she discovers that truth can be stranger than fiction — depending on who’s telling the story.

My Rating – 4 stars

My Comments – This book was a favorite in my classroom library, partly due to the graphic component. Part of the story is told through comic book format.

3. Sees Behind Trees by Michael Dorris – 1999

Visually impaired Walnut cannot earn his adult name the same way other boys do, by hitting a target with a bow and arrow. With his highly developed other senses, however, he earns a new name: Sees Behind Trees. “Dorris takes on some meaty existential issues here; he does so with grace, bighearted empathy, and always with crystal-clear vision”. —School Library Journal

My Rating – 4 stars

My Comments – This is a tiny book– only 100 pages– but it makes a big impact.

4. The Color of My Words by Lynn Joseph – 2000

Twelve-year-old Ana Rosa is a blossoming writer growing up in the Dominican Republic, a country where words are feared. Yet there is so much inspiration all around her — watching her brother search for a future, learning to dance and to love, and finding out what it means to be part of a community — that Ana Rosa must write it all down. As she struggles to find her own voice and a way to make it heard, Ana Rosa realizes the power of her words to transform the world around her — and to transcend the most unthinkable of tragedies.

My Rating – 3 stars

My Comments – This is a sad story, but one with hope through words.

5. Trouble Don’t Last by Shelley Pearsall – 2003

Eleven-year-old Samuel was born as Master Hackler’s slave, and working the Kentucky farm is the only life he’s ever known—until one dark night in 1859, that is. With no warning, cranky old Harrison, a fellow slave, pulls Samuel from his bed and, together, they run.

The journey north seems much more frightening than Master Hackler ever was, and Samuel’s not sure what freedom means aside from running, hiding, and starving. But as they move from one refuge to the next on the Underground Railroad, Samuel uncovers the secret of his own past—and future. And old Harrison begins to see past a whole lifetime of hurt to the promise of a new life—and a poignant reunion—in Canada.

In a heartbreaking and hopeful first novel, Shelley Pearsall tells a suspenseful, emotionally charged story of freedom and family.

My Rating – 3 stars

My Comments – Samuel’s endearing voice is what I remember most about this gripping historical fiction novel.

6. On the Devil’s Court by Carl Deuker – 1991

Summary from Amazon:

What would you give to be your school’s superstar? After reading Dr. Faustus, Joe considers the merits of selling his soul to the devil. Suddenly, he finds himself changing from a lousy basketball player and a C student to the star athlete he always dreamed he could be. Even though he isn’t sure if he actually made a deal with the devil, he can’t help but enjoy the benefits that come with his newfound abilities. But is achieving his dreams worth what he may have given up?

In this coming of age sports novel, Joe learns the power of belief and that the only goals worth attaining are the ones that you earn — on your own.

My Rating – 3 stars

My Comments – I’m not a big fan of sports novels, but the angle that this one took really kept my attention. Fans of Mike Lupica’s books would enjoy this one.

7. My Thirteenth Winter by Samantha Abeel – 2005

In this beautiful and chilling memoir, twenty-five-year-old Samantha Abeel describes her struggles with a math-related learning disability, and how it forced her to find inner strength and courage.

Samantha Abeel couldn’t tell time, remember her locker combination, or count out change at a checkout counter — and she was in seventh grade. For a straight-A student like Samantha, problems like these made no sense. She dreaded school, and began having anxiety attacks. In her thirteenth winter, she found the courage to confront her problems — and was diagnosed with a learning disability. Slowly, Samantha’s life began to change again. She discovered that she was stronger than she’d ever thought possible — and that sometimes, when things look bleakest, hope is closer than you think.

My Rating – 4 stars

My Comments – This is such an important book. Abeel’s descriptions of what her life was like with an undiagnosed learning disability haunted me for weeks after I read it, and her joy at finally getting the help she needed brought tears to my eyes. In my opinion, it is a must read for educators. Also, this summary doesn’t mention the fact that, while Abeel struggled in some areas, she was always a talented writer and poet. After you read My Thirteenth Winter, check out her poetry in Reach for the Moon.

8. Leslie’s Journal by Allan Stratton – 2000

A gripping story about the dark side of a first love.

Leslie can’t seem to avoid trouble, whether it’s at school or at home. Just as life seems at its lowest, Jason McCready, the exceedingly cool new guy at school, enters her life.

Now Leslie is the envy of all the girls. But Jason’s appearance is deceiving — he is determined to control every aspect of Leslie’s life, and he begins terrorizing her in unimaginable ways.

When a substitute teacher reads the private English-class journal in which Leslie reveals Jason’s abuse, Leslie is suddenly forced into hard choices and terrifying action to take back her life.

Updated to reflect the contemporary world of the Internet, cell phones and text messaging, Leslie’s Journal is a suspenseful, fast-paced story about love, friendship and what it means to stand up for yourself

My Rating – 3 stars

My Comments – Apparently this book has been updated, but I’m pretty certain I read the original version. This story deals with some heavy issues, so it’s for more mature readers.

9. After the Death of Anna Gonzales by Terri Fields – 2002

“I can feel
The whispering of the hallway walls
Growing louder as the groups gather.
Each clique adding to its morning input.

“Did you hear?”
“Who told you?”
“Do you think it’s really true?”

New at this school,
I stand alone.
Watching . . .”

Brutally honest and authentic in tone, this collection of voices centers on the suicide of high school freshman Anna Gonzales. Each piece, read alone, portrays a classmate’s or teacher’s personal reaction to the loss, taken hard by some, by others barely noticed. Read together, the poems create a richly textured and moving testimony to the rippling effects of one girl’s devastating choice. Terri Fields has written a thought-provoking, important work that resonates with both pain and hope. This is a book that will stay with readers long after they put it down.

My Rating – 4 stars

My Comments – There were waiting lists for this book in my classroom library. I couldn’t keep it on my shelves. Students read it until it was falling apart and then eventually it disappeared completely. Teen suicide is a horrible thing, but kids like to read about the hard stuff, and this book deals with it in an honest way. Fans of Jay Asher’s 13 Reasons Why would be a good fit for this book and it is a very quick read.

10. All Hallows’ Eve: 13 Stories by Vivian Vande Velde – 2006

A boy is trapped in a possessed car that has stalled in the path of an oncoming train. A girl is dragged into a crypt during a field trip to an eighteenth-century cemetery. A group of friends meet their fate after an unsettling visit with a backwoods psychic. And that’s just the beginning. Celebrated author Vivian Vande Velde is at her spine-tingling best in this collection of thirteen scary stories, all of which take place on Halloween night. With tales that range from the disturbing to the downright gruesome, this is one collection that teens will want to read with the lights on . . . and the doors locked.

My Rating – 4 stars

My Comments – I love scary stories and there are some scary stories in this book. Too many horror stories for kids have the Scooby-Doo ending. Oh! It was just Farmer Bob in a mask! Not these. I enjoyed almost all of the 13 stories, but it was the third one– “Morgan Roehmar’s Boys”– that made me sit up and take notice. It reminded me of when I first picked up The Hunger Games back in 2009 and thought, Is she REALLY going to have kids killing kids? Oh, yep. She is. Vivian Vande Velde’s book hit me the same way. Is this real horror or kid horror? Oh, real horror. Got it. Now to check behind me before I keep reading. The stories are both scary and clever, and Velde will keep you on your toes with all the twists. Seriously, go read this book.

See? Do you see what I’m talking about now?

These are good books, and they deserve more attention.

Go read one of them today!

Encyclopedia of MY Ordinary Life: A Plagiarism of the Best Intentions

I don’t know about you, but I could use some reasons to laugh this week. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, just turn on the news. On second thought, don’t. It’ll just bring you down.

Anyway, I have been watching the news, so I’ve been needing a way to cheer up. Today I stumbled upon something in the hidden crevices of my computer that made me laugh and, on the off chance that it might make you laugh too, I’ve decided to share it.

Really, though, you shouldn’t thank me for this bit of mirth. You should thank Amy Krouse Rosenthal (who has a really cool website).

Two and a half years ago, I read Amy’s memoir, Encyclopedia of an Ordinary Life, in which she shares personal anecdotes in the form of an encyclopedia. Rather than try to explain how she turns this classic nonfiction format into something quirky and fun, here’s a picture of pages 108 and 109 in the G section:

The end of the GROCERY CART entry on page 110 says, “unpacking the groceries at home, I realized the rose was still sitting there at the store, paid for, on the bottom of the cart.”

I loved this book. What a unique, creative idea! And, as with all unique, creative ideas that other people come up with, I wished it had been mine. So, I decided to copy it.

Shortly after finishing Amy’s memoir, I began writing my own encyclopedic snippets, trying to recreate her cleverness. I told myself that my work was my own, that I was simply “inspired by” her book. But after a few pages, I had to admit that it wasn’t so much emulation as plagiarism, and poor plagiarism at that. So I tucked my attempt away and forgot about it.

Today I stumbled upon the file, and it really put a smile on my face. Not only did it remind me of how much I enjoyed Encyclopedia of an Ordinary Life, which I’ve been re-reading and re-enjoying all afternoon, but some of my anecdotes also tickled my funny bone.

Here are three entries from the ill-fated, quickly-abandoned, somewhat-plagiarized Encyclopedia of MY Ordinary Life. I hope you enjoy them (and that Amy Krouse Rosenthal forgives me for them).

EXTREMELY LOUD AND INCREDIBLY CLOSE

In the movie Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, there is a man who does not speak. He has the words YES and NO tattooed on the palms of his hands. While watching the movie with my husband, I noticed something interesting that I couldn’t wait to talk about when it was over.

Walking out of the theater, I proudly told my hubby, “The words were on the wrong hands! NO was on the right hand and YES was on the left. It should have been the other way around. Your right hand is the one you use to shake and take oaths. It represents your promise, your guarantee, your word. It’s symbolic. YES should be on his RIGHT hand.” I grinned at my cleverness.

My husband responded, “The whole thing was dumb. Is holding up your hand really any faster than nodding your head? I mean, what if he was carrying something?” Oh. Huh. Good point.

MISUNDERSTOOD SONG LYRICS

Whenever I watch The Big Bang Theory (which is a LOT) I can never understand or remember if the theme song is staying “dense” or “tense”. They both seem like they could work. “The whole universe was in a hot ______ state.” Every single time, I have to ask my husband, “dense or tense” and he tells me. And I promptly forget again. Ok, it’s “dense.” I just asked him. But couldn’t the whole universe be in a hot tense state too? Sometimes I think it is.

In the song “No Rain” by Blind Melon, I thought for a very long time that he was saying, “You know I like to keep my cheating strategied (pronounced STRA-ti-ge-ee-ed.” I now know he is actually saying, “You know I’d like to keep my cheeks dry today.” Fine. But really, if you were cheating a lot, wouldn’t you want to have a strategy to keep it all from falling apart?

I still have no idea what the lyrics to “Roam” are, but that has not prevented me from singing along with the B-52’s at the top of my lungs for the past twenty years.

SPIDER, FAKE

I found my fake tarantula in a drawer in my classroom the other day and decided to bring it home. (I am quitting teaching at the end of this year, so I have been taking home about one item a day from school that I want to keep. At this rate, I will have my entire classroom cleaned out by August of 2013.)* Not having any better place to carry the fake spider, I put it in my purse. (Yes, you already know where this story is going, but I’m going to tell it anyway.)

I have a very short attention span. I am very good about following through on tasks and getting things done, but that is because I write EVERYTHING down. If I don’t, I forget it. I can be less than five minutes away from my house and think to myself, As soon as you walk in the door, go write shaving cream on the grocery list. Do it. Shaving cream, shaving cream, shaving cream, shaving cream, shaving… I wonder if I should postpone that vocab quiz until Friday. And then it’s gone. I won’t realize until I get home from the grocery store the next day and then try to shave my legs, that I’ve forgotten to write down shaving cream. So when I told myself I would take the spider out of my purse when I got home, I didn’t even pretend to believe myself.

The next morning on the way to work, I was stopped at a red light (thank goodness) when I decided to get my work badge and keys out of my purse. Half looking at the road, half looking at my purse, I pulled the silver lanyard out, felt the extra heaviness of it, glanced over, saw that giant tarantula hanging from the clasp by his hairy legs and screamed so loud I hurt my own ears. The whole time my brain was yelling, “Stop, you idiot! It’s the fake spider! You knew it was in there! You knew this would happen! You’re making a fool of yourself!” But my body wouldn’t listen, couldn’t keep up, and was just trying not to have a heart attack.

Afterwards, I didn’t know what to do. I knew I couldn’t put it back in my purse because in just five short minutes I would forget it was there again and repeat the whole process, maybe while going 60 mph. The light turned green, so I stuffed the thing in the glove compartment. And forgot about it. Now, every time I open the glove compartment, I scare myself, but I still can’t remember it’s in there long enough to take it out. **

*2014 Note: I actually managed to clean out my classroom much sooner than that, thank you very much, former self.

** I don’t think the spider is still in there. I’m pretty sure I moved it… somewhere else. ?

That’s all, folks.

I’m going to keep the rest of the entries to myself, since many of them were even more embarrassing than these. But I highly recommend you read Encyclopedia of an Ordinary Life by Amy Krouse Rosenthal. It should brighten your day whether the news has gotten you down or not.

How I Got Here: My Life With Books

I’ve been reading a lot lately. What is “a lot”? Well, my goal was to read 50 books in 2014. As of the end of July, I’ve already finished 46. So, a LOT.

Part of the reason for the recent spike in numbers is the discovery of two new forms of reading: audio books and the Kindle app on my phone. Since January, I’ve listened to audio books almost exclusively in the car. I’m not very up-to-date on the news of the world, and I’ve probably missed out on at least a half a dozen new pop songs, but I’ve “read” fourteen novels while sitting in traffic or running errands, and I think I’m a better person for it. Without audio books, my current total for the year so far would be 32, just about on par with my goal. But with them, I’m looking at a possibility of 80 or more books this year, which is pretty cool.

I live in a household with no e-readers or iPads (shocking, I know) but this year I discovered the Kindle app on my phone and put it to use. It’s still not my preferred format—I’ve only read four books this way so far—but I do find it useful for reading in bed. My husband can’t sleep if I leave the lamp on, but the dim glow of my phone’s screen doesn’t bother him, so I can read long after he zonks out. Unless the book makes me laugh out loud like Graeme Simsions’ The Rosie Project did. Then I’m busted and have to turn off the phone. (To read Lauren Henderson’s review of The Rosie Project, click here. I agree with her completely.)

All this reading has made me look back on my life as a reader with Wonder Years-colored glasses.

I don’t remember exactly when I learned to read, and I can’t clearly conjure up the process, but I have vague memories of not being able to read at all—staring at the words on the page of my dad’s newspaper or my mom’s novel and wondering what they said, or holding up a book and pretending to read it, making up the story as I went. I also remember, later, practicing my reading with the Sunday comics, things like Garfield that had few words and familiar themes.

That’s about as far as the memory goes. I couldn’t read, and then I could. I don’t recall much about the steps in between.

But once in a while I get a glimpse of that blurry phase in the middle. Due to fatigue or distraction, I misread something, and all of a sudden I remember that struggle, how exhausting it could be trying to decipher the BIG words on the page. Today it was the word “mythmaking” in an article in Writer’s Digest. My mind wanted to divide it after the y instead of the h and, for just a second, I was thinking, “My-what? My-thmaking?” Of course, it only took a moment for me to realize my error and move on.

That time.

A few months back, though, I was reading Raiders! The Story of the Greatest Fan Film Ever Made aloud to my husband in the car. The author described a house called “Manyoaks.” About the fourth time that I said, “Man-yokes,” Mark stopped me. “What are you saying?” he asked. That’s when I realized my mistake. The house was named “Many-oaks” not “Man-yoaks.” We laughed for miles.

Once I learned to read, I was a good reader but not a voracious one. I watched a lot of TV and played a lot of video games and spent a lot of time in my backyard. Although I loved buying books from the Scholastic catalogues, I didn’t always read them. I wouldn’t call myself a hyperactive kid, but I don’t remember having the patience to sit down and read a book long enough to get into it. My mom likes to talk about how hard it was to get me to do my weekly assignments out of the “home readers” we were given. She says I was very critical of them, always asking, “Well, why did they say it that way? Why did they write it like that?” I guess I was born an editor.

I did enjoy being read to though—Mom read me the Bunnicula books and Dad read Hank the Cowdog—and in the sixth grade when we read Bridge to Terabithia as a class, I learned how much fun it could be to study a book as a group. That love followed me though middle and high school where I enjoyed analyzing the novels and dissecting them, but still often did not actually finish them, if left to read them on my own.

It wasn’t until college when I started truly reading for pleasure. I bought books and stayed up late reading them. I wrote in the margins and swapped titles with friends. I started a journal where I listed all the books I read and discovered the value of never going anywhere without something to read.

For years, I’ve craved the “home of overflowing books,” that image that’s such a staple in books and movies about teachers and writers and scholars. In these scenes, there are always floor to ceiling bookshelves lining the walls and someone is always having to move a stack of books off a chair for someone else to sit down. There are books tucked everywhere in the room and at least two or three are always lying open. I love these rooms, these scenes. I want to be these characters.

Only recently have I realized how close I’ve come to achieving that dream.

I do live in a house of books, and I read them, and I love them, and if you want me to, I’ll talk to you about them all day long. However, thanks to the public library and audio books and my Kindle app, there’s still room for you to sit down when you come over. I’m more likely to have to move a cat off a chair than a pile of books.

In interviews, most writers say they were bookworms as children. The phrase “read everything I could get my hands on” comes up a lot, as does the description of books as their “closest friends.” In a way, I’ve been envious of those childhoods, slightly embarrassed at all the required reading I left unfinished, all the coming-of-age titles that I didn’t read until I was already of age. But I’ve come to embrace my own history with books. It may have taken me longer than some to discover the beauty of reading, but I’m here now and I’m happy. I don’t think it matters how I arrived.