A Summer Without Anna

Written by Kate Jenks Landry

Illustrated by Risa Hugo

Kids Can Press

978-1-5253-1025-6

32 pp.

Ages 3–7

June 2025 

 

For children, every summer is different and still the same. There may continuity in activities undertaken or camps attended, in visits with family or in hanging out with friends. But with each year that a child gets older, things will change for them and for their families. Some changes will be welcome and others not. For Junie, this will be a summer without her sister Anna.

From A Summer Without Anna, written by Kate Jenks Landry, illustrated by Risa Hugo

This summer Junie will be visiting her Nan and Pop's house while her parents take care of her hospitalized sister. To help ease Junie into this new set of circumstances, Anna lends her little sister her camera, instructing her to use it if she sees Edmund, a very old turtle. As Junie continues to do many of the activities she and Anna had often done at her Nan and Pop's, such as swimming and catching minnows for bait, Junie takes photos of what she sees, keeping a record of her time away from Anna, and always looking for Edmund.

From A Summer Without Anna, written by Kate Jenks Landry, illustrated by Risa Hugo

But even as she bakes and fishes, swims and relaxes, Junie has a quiet solitude about her. For her, a summer without Anna means so much more than just missing a companion with whom to play and to look for Edmund. Her parents arrange phone calls with Anna so the girls can keep in touch, and Junie takes lots of pictures of everything from the recipes she and Nan use to the water as it ripples with the wind. And when Anna's return home is delayed, Junie is both angry and saddened. 

     I run down to the lake and hurl Anna's tarts into the water.

     The air feels electric. Rain is coming. I tilt the camera straight up to the sky. A fat drop hits the lens and turns the world all wibbly-wobbly.

From A Summer Without Anna, written by Kate Jenks Landry, illustrated by Risa Hugo

When the two sisters are finally reunited, there is much sharing that happens, demonstrating that the two were never far apart in their thoughts and their hearts.

 

This is the first book that I have reviewed of Kate Jenks Landry and Risa Hugo (though both have written or illustrated others). Both take a sensitive perspective to the story, emphasizing Junie's muted experience of a summer without her sister. Though there would be no story without Anna's illness and hospitalization, that all happens outside of Junie's immediate experience. Kate Jenks Landry makes the story all about Junie; in fact, Risa Hugo does not include Anna until the older sister is set to come home and be reunited with Junie. The tenderness of the girls' relationship and the lingering days of summer that Junie experiences are paramount. Without that closeness, there would be no wistfulness or the stillness of play without a playmate. Kate Jenks Landry makes us feel Junie's longing for her sister and the stillness of her summer, even as she is occupied by her grandparents with typical bonding experiences in and outside of their house. 

From A Summer Without Anna, written by Kate Jenks Landry, illustrated by Risa Hugo

The quiet of A Summer Without Anna calms me, even as I feel for a family dealing with an ill child. That quiet, which comes through in both Kate Jenks Landry's words and Risa Hugo's art, is both reassuring and hopeful, and I was left knowing that all would be well in the end. Whether I hear that assurance in Kate Jenks Landry's poetic language ("My belly's full of moth-wing flutters") or in the emotions of her words ("The smile in her voice feels like a promise") or in Risa Hugo's illustrations rendered in gouache, coloured pencils and soft pastel, or in both, I could not speculate. All I know is that, if I had child undergoing medical treatment and wanted to comfort a younger sibling, a reading of A Summer Without Anna would be restorative.

Shadow Grave

Written by Marina Cohen

Roaring Brook Press

978-1-250-78300-4

288 pp.

Ages 8-12

May 2022

 

The trip to a New Hampshire bed-and-breakfast for twelve-year-old Arlo and his eight-year-old sister Lola with their mother for Thanksgiving is supposed to be a treat. With their father remarried with a new child and Mom dealing with health issues and Arlo managing anxiety, the family needs a break. And with money being an issue–they're driving Mom's old clunker of a car–everything is being done on a budget. But when something jumps into the road and they end up hitting a tree and totalling the car, their family trip takes an unexpected turn. 

The trio have no option but to seek help, especially as Mom's ankle may be broken and their one working cell phone cannot get a signal. Following the road that eventually becomes little more than a footpath, they reach the town of Livermore, an isolated community that almost feels deserted. In fact, when they finally get someone to open their door, the woman tells them, "You've come to the wrong place." (pg. 37) But Lovicia, with the urging of her young niece Hannah, lets them in and summons Doc Brown to tend to Arlo and Lola's mom. Everything's a little bit old-fashioned from the plaster cast Mom is given to the pot over a fire in the hearth but it's the lack of automobiles or phones that poses the greatest concern. And then Arlo hears some one say, "Leave now. While you still can." (pg. 46) With one last call to his Dad before their phone dies, the family is put up at the Samuels' B &B, a large mansion of Mr. Woodbridge Samuels, his young daughter Alice, and housekeeper Mrs. Hawthorn. They also meet all the community who join them for a Thanksgiving meal but, even though they are polite enough, Arlo feels the townspeople are somewhat reserved, perhaps even unwelcoming.

It was as though their warm smiles and formal manners hid their true feelings, like sweet perfume masks the stench of sweat. (pg. 87)

What their superficial politeness and old-fashioned natures hide is far more creepy than even Arlo and his family could anticipate, and whether or not they can get out of Livermore safely is part of the mystery of Shadow Grave.

Author Marina Cohen has always given us a little bit of creepy blended with the realism of family relationships, mental health, and more. With Shadow Grave, she again delivers us to a surreal world, this one the town of Livermore with its eerie inhabitants, time-frozen settings and dark unknowns, while integrating it with the familiar as Mom battles a life-threatening illness, Arlo struggles with his anxiety and the whole family is challenged with rebuilding after divorce. So while Marina Cohen has given us another solid middle-grade horror novel (check out my favourites The Inn Between, The Doll's Eye and Chasing the White Witch),  Shadow Grave has infused a story with ghost-like entities, monsters, and unknown dangers with the reality of a family's challenges, thereby also drawing in readers with the fears of every day life. She reminds us that some times the terrors we feel are both familiar and alien. 

Enter Livermore with caution. There are monsters of different kinds but, if you face them as Arlo does, with positive thoughts, trust and family, you may just get out alive.

The Cow Said Boo!

Written by Lana Button

Illustrated by Alice Carter

Pajama Press

978-1-77278-216-5

28 pp.

Ages 4-7

September 2021

The cow says, "Moo." Every child knows that. But what does it sound like with a stuffy nose? Disastrously, this cow learns that it's "Boo!"

From The Cow Said Boo! by Lana Button, illus. by Alice Carter

Judging by the falling leaves and the ripe pumpkins on the ground, the cow has caught a cold in the autumn. Clutching her tissue box and stumbling around in misery, she crashes into a clothesline from which a white sheet falls and shrouds the poorly cow.

From The Cow Said Boo! by Lana Button, illus. by Alice Carter

When she approaches the other farm animals–a goat, a cat, a horse, a rooster and a pig–at breakfast, her "Boo!" and sheet-covered form sends them into a tizzy, convinced the farm is haunted.

Saddened, the cow goes off by herself to rest and recuperate. But as the other animals sleep, except for the infirmed cow, a fox sneaks onto the farm. Knowing she must do something to save her friends, she uses her altered voice and sheet disguise to scare it away, and become the hero they needed, even if she says, "Boo!"

From The Cow Said Boo! by Lana Button, illus. by Alice Carter

Lana Button gives us a story in which a difficulty becomes a blessing, reminding young readers that face-value is just that. Sure, the cow looked like a ghost and frightened her friends with her nasally voice but she used that to her advantage to help her farm pals in the end. Ultimately, they appreciate her efforts, cheering her and even nursing her back to health, though they all catch their own colds and speak with transformed voices. (They would be wise to follow the illustrated instructions on the back end-papers for scaring away colds by washing hands.) Lana Button gives us some silliness and some wisdom, a great way for young children to learn important lessons like how to keep colds at bay and not being too quick to judge.

Ottawa's Alice Carter created her art with coloured pencils, watercolour and digital media to give The Cow Said Boo! the simplicity and mischievousness that speaks to young children. They know about getting colds and how it feels but Alice Carter makes it more goofy than ridiculous and definitely less miserable than the common cold. From her blue skies and sickly yellow green fields–yes, sickly is a colour–there's some subtle messaging but the animals are the stars with their brightly-hued coats and cartoonish faces and forms. Moreover, because young children are familiar with animals and their sounds, especially on farms–even if they've never visited a rural community–Alice Carter's depictions of Lana Button's characters will make them smile.

The cow may have had the misfortune to get a cold but she had the good fortune to turn it into a lucky break for her friends, even if they'll be in bed sneezing and coughing soon enough too.

We Dream Medicine Dreams

Written and illustrated by Lisa Boivin

HighWater Press

978-1-553799870

48 pp.

Ages 5-10

April, 2021

The cover tells you this is going to be a powerful book. From its vibrant colours and emotional depiction of adult and child resting and dreaming to the natural landscape of bear, vegetation and stars, the book cover of We Dream Medicine Dreams invites us into a different world.

From We Dream Medicine Dreams by Lisa Boivin

Lisa Boivin, a member of the Deninu K’ue First Nation, recalls her memories of napping with her grandfather and his teaching her of the importance of medicine dreams.

There is medicine in our dreams. This medicine teaches us to be skillful in the world and teaches us how to face the challenges in our lives. These skills are learned from animals.

With each animal dream comes a lesson. Bear teaches about listening and finding safety, finding food and being alone.

He is cradled by his love of the land when he sleeps, and he is encouraged by the land as he learns how to live a good life.

Bear teaches us that, though there will be times in our lives when we are alone, we have learned well from family and carry their love which will help us thrive.

 

There's also Hawk who teaches us to open ourselves to new good things, and Caribou who teaches us about generosity and respectfulness. Her favourite lesson from her grandfather is about Wolf who learns from his elders how to hunt and accepts failures as a part of learning.

From We Dream Medicine Dreams by Lisa Boivin

But her grandfather is now ill and in a coma, and his death is imminent. At the hospital, she crawls onto the bed to have one last nap with him to "dream a medicine dream for us."

From We Dream Medicine Dreams by Lisa Boivin

When her grandfather has passed, she takes his teachings to heart. Like Bear, she knows she has been taught well that the world loves her as he did and that he would want her to be happy. Hawk reminds her that she has received many gifts from her Grampa, and that she must be open to new ones. Like Caribou, she will be respectful of the gifts given to her and the lessons learned.  Finally from Wolf, she learns humility and to keep trying.

From We Dream Medicine Dreams by Lisa Boivin

Her grandfather, whose own mother had called him Little Wolf, now visits his grandchild in her dreams as a dark wolf to teach her to be happy with the world around her. 

 

Wow.

 

We Dream Medicine Dreams is the whole package. Its story about the teachings that come from animal dreams blended with Lisa Boivin's impactful and vibrant digital art tells and shows and invites the reader to experience and learn. These lessons about being one's best self, of living as part of the world and with others are profound. Conveyed through a tender and meaningful inter-generational relationship, the message that animal dreams can heal with their teachings is not lost on the reader, as they were not on the granddaughter in We Dream Medicine Dreams. Her grandfather's words are touching in their sincerity and intent, demonstrating the compassion and wisdom needed to live life well.

Lisa Boivin's words are stirringly meaningful, and her illustrations are vivid and textured, so skillfully rendered digitally that I was initially convinced it was cut-paper art. It isn't. It's just so multilayered in colour and shape that it gives the impression of depth, energy and even daring.

From Lisa Boivin's dedication that begins with

"This book is a sacred ceremony..."

I know that this book honours the teaching of her fathers, grandfather and other, who shared with her Indigenous lessons of animal dreams. In creating this picture book, not only has she honoured them and their bonds, Lisa Boivin has shared restorative lessons for living with challenges including loss, lessons we've always needed, but especially now.

Jon's Tricky Journey: A story for Inuit children with cancer and their families

Written by Patricia McCarthy

Illustrated by Hwei Lim

Inhabit Media

978-1-77227-145-4

70 pp.

All ages

July 2017

The fact that Patricia McCarthy, a Pediatric Nurse Practitioner, wrote this book is a sad reminder that there are many children, including Inuit children, who must endure treatment for cancer. Their childhoods should be filled by play and learning and friends and family and not the medical traumas involved in being diagnosed with and then treated for cancer.  Jon's Tricky Journey, which is both picture book story and resource guide, takes the reader on that journey and provides a compendium of supportive resources for navigating pediatric cancer treatment in the North.

Jon is an Inuit boy who lives with his parents (anaana and ataata) and two siblings and their husky dog Nanuq in Nunavut.  He loves camping, watching the northern lights and hearing stories about his ancestors.

From Jon's Tricky Journey 

by Patricia McCarthy

illus. by Hwei Lim

When Jon starts to feel pains, a visit to the nursing station ends up sending him to the hospital far away south.  Only his anaana goes with him to a land of trees and noise and busyness that made him fearful.  A social worker helps him and his anaana adjust, including finding them a place to stay, while he visits with the oncologist Dr. Lewis who tells him that he has a lump called cancer inside his body.  An operation is needed to remove it and then he'll have to take special medicines.

From Jon's Tricky Journey 

by Patricia McCarthy 

illus. by Hwei Lim

From the nurses and child-life specialists, pharmacists and special visitors, Jon is helped through what he calls his "tricky days," those days when pain, fatigue and homesickness overwhelm him.  (The above art illustrates Jon's trick of thinking happy thoughts, such as camping, to get through episodes of pain.) As he deals with his chemotherapy (a word not used in the story) and becomes more familiar with the routines and the hospital and meeting other children with cancer, Jon begins to appreciate that he is showing strength and resilience, just like his Inuit ancestors.

Patricia McCarthy's intent for this book is to "serve as a source of comfort and useful information for families who find themselves far from home, facing a cancer diagnosis in a strange and sometimes frightening environment." (pg. 37)  Jon's Tricky Journey, the story, is a reassuring depiction of what a child might need to go through when being treated for cancer but that story only takes 34 pages.  The remainder of the picture book lists children's hospitals and cancer treatment facilities and a map of flight paths from Arctic locations to these facilities; navigation and coordination services by region; descriptions of all medical team members; answers to FAQs; the northern pain scale, most appropriate for Inuit children; a glossary; an art project; and additional resources.  Jon's Tricky Journey, brilliantly translated into Inuktitut so that it can be read by all family members, should be available at every treatment centre accommodating Inuit children and their families as well as the nursing stations of their home communities.  By depicting Jon's Inuit life and his oncology journey with simplicity and realism, Malaysian illustrator Hwei Lim ensures that any child of the North dealing with cancer will see himself or herself within the pages. This is as it should be.  Sadly, Jon's Tricky Journey could be the journey of far too many children but, within the pages of this book, there is some solace that it's a journey that is not taken alone.

Transferral

Written by Kate Blair

Dancing Cat Books

978-1-770864542

194 pp.

Ages 13+

October 2015

Most of us are maddened when a good person becomes ill with a life-threatening disease. It just doesn’t seem fair.  And, even though we know that illness is not a reflection of goodness or badness, it’s hard not to lament an illness with “What did I do to deserve this?”, seeing it as a possible punishment for poor life choices.  But, in Transferral, illness is a punishment, one doled out to convicted criminals, the illness reflective of the severity of the crime.

That’s how Tranferral opens, with sixteen-year-old Talia Hale, daughter of the U.K.’s prime ministerial candidate Malcolm Hale, going to St. Bart’s hospital for a Transfer i.e., to get rid of the cold she was getting, knowing that on the other side of the hospital a criminal would be going through the painful process of being infected with that same cold.  But when leaving the hospital,  Talia witnesses a large black man wielding a meat cleaver at a young girl and Talia clubs him with a chair to protect the girl.  Though Talia’s actions are hailed as heroic and her father’s campaign manager, Piers, spins it to her father’s advantage, as leader of the National Law Party whose mandate is being tough on criminals and supporting the National Transfer Service, Talia begins to realize that the girl’s fear hadn’t been for the man hurting her but for Talia hurting the man.  Recognizing that the loss of her own sister, the same age as the young girl, and their mother to a criminal who broke into their house probably affected her take on the situation, Talia goes in search of girl she rescued.

Forging her dad’s signature, Talia goes to Holloway Quarantine, essentially a prison, to speak to Jack Benson, the man with the cleaver.  His confusion leads Talia to recognize he wasn’t fully cognizant of his actions, and she promises to find a way to look after his daughter, the little girl, Tig.  With that, Talia makes her first foray into the Barbican, the criminal-rich but poverty-stricken estate, where she meets Tig and Galen, a young man who is caring for Benson's daughter.  Sure that she’s doing the right thing, Talia gets Tig taken by social services to a children’s home.  Too late, Talia realizes that she’s been making everything worse, even getting herself convicted for the forgery, though Piers thinks he can spin that too.

We’ll leak the story to the media, along with your apology, and we might be able to get you off with a stomach bug or strep throat. (pg. 105)

Slowly, Talia begins to see that wealth and privilege affect everything, and that because of her perspective, as a rich and advantaged young woman, albeit a victim of a man who murdered her mother and sister, she has not taken the time to learn Tig and Galen’s stories.  Once she does, though, she has to find the means, criminal or not, to make things right.

There’s a lot of edge-of-your-seat storytelling with Talia’s search for Tig and her ventures into the subculture of the Barbican, amidst dealing with her role in her father’s election campaign.  Kate Blair gets the right balance of trepidation and righteousness, with Talia starting to break free from what she has always known and what she is just now learning about the world.  Talia makes a lot of mistakes but her heart is in the right place and she is determined to be part of the solution.

Tranferral is a strongly plotted story that builds on the surreal premise of linking justice with illness and comes through it all with a healthy ending that is neither sappy nor all wrapped up but a convincing remedy for a disturbing basis for dealing with criminality. 

Oscar Lives Next Door

A story inspired by Oscar Peterson's childhood

by Bonnie Farmer

Illustrated by Marie Lafrance

Owlkids Books

978-1-77147-104-6

Ages 4-8

September 2015

Canadian jazz lovers will all know pianist Oscar Peterson very well.  But with Oscar Lives Next Door, author Bonnie Farmer and illustrator Marie Lafrance will introduce younger readers to the legendary musician and his musical beginnings while providing a glimpse into a less-than-famous life-changing event that sent the young Oscar to the piano.

Told from the perspective of Mildred, the little girl who lives next door to Oscar in the predominantly black community of Little Burgundy in Montreal, Oscar Lives Next Door focuses on the musical family of brothers and sisters of which Oscar is but the trumpet player.  Yes, the trumpet player.  And as much as she is Oscar’s playmate running the streets of Little Burgundy, Mildred sees Oscar as a magician of music.

He blows a few notes and, like magic, a turbaned genie curls out of the trumpet’s mouth and floats above the telephone wires. (pg. 13)

Then Oscar’s red handkerchief, a common accessory of horn players, which was usually flying out from the boy’s pocket, is drawn lying useless on the ground. Oscar is ill with tuberculosis and hospitalized, and the music, the play with Mildred, and even the talking stops for Oscar. It is only after a year’s hospitalization and his return home that Oscar tries to find the magic again,  first taking apart his trumpet and then looking within the family piano.

Oscar sits at the piano.  His fingers pause over the keys for a moment before playing.  When they finally touch the keyboard, it sounds like rolling thunder. (pg. 29)

While Oscar Lives Next Door is a fictionalized story, his love of the trumpet, his life-threatening illness (the same illness from which his brother dies), and his subsequent though temporary lack of speech were all key events in Oscar Peterson’s life, helping to create the pianist he became and for which the world loved him.  Bonnie Farmer gets the right tone of reality and fiction by creating a neighbourhood friend who experiences Oscar’s musicality–sometimes to the chagrin of her hard-working, sleep-deprived father–and is there to offer a child’s perspective on his music and his illness.

Be sure to take note of Marie Lafrance’s touching illustrations which transport the reader to the working-class neighbourhoods of Little Burgundy and adjacent Saint-Henri of the 1930s.  With the easily-identifiable Union Church and the train tracks, smokestacks and cars, trucks and horse-drawn carts, Little Burgundy comes alive and becomes the playground and home of Oscar and Millie and a character in its own.  Marie Lafrance, whose artwork has graced numerous youngCanLit classics (including The Tweedles Go Online and The Tweedles Go Electric reviewed here on CanLit for LittleCanadians) conveys a time and place when children could play safely on the streets, when music streamed the air, and life was full, following the seasons and the workings of fathers.  What a treat it would’ve been to have Oscar live next door.

Transferral: Book Launch (Toronto)

DCB /

Dancing Cat Books

 is pleased to launch its newest young adult science fiction book

Transferral

by Kate Blair

978-1-770864542

Dancing Cat Books

240 pp.

Ages 13+

October, 2015

on

OCTOBER 3, 2015

at

3 p.m.

at

BAKKA-PHOENIX BOOKS
84 Harbord Street

Toronto, ON
 

Transferral takes place in an alternate version London, England, where a miraculous medical treatment - one which allows the sick to be completely cured by transferring their illnesses into the bodies of the healthy - has been turned into a form of criminal punishment.

Into this world is born Talia Hale, who upon befriending two children from a "diseased" neighbourhood, finds herself at odds with her politician father, whose campaign to be elected prime minister includes a promise to crack down on her new friends' community. 

From Lands of the Night

by Tololwa M. Mollel

Illustrated by Darrell McCalla

Red Deer Press

978-0-88995-498-4

32 pp.

Ages 7+

January 2014

An ill child is great cause for concern and worthy of a heroic pursuit for a remedy. But, after fruitless hospital visits, futile treatments and prayer, the only potential help may come From Lands of the Night where the ancestors reside.  In fact, a joyful celebration of family, friends and neighbours with music, food and drink is deemed necessary to save the life of the young narrator's baby brother, Samson.

An angel, sent by God–Mola–to request they turn down the music, actually heralds the arrival of more angels, moved to dance to the rhythmic sounds.  That is, until the brilliant light of Mola draws the celebration to a stunning silence.  But the young girl invites Mola to be their guest, and soon the ancestors resplendant in colourful and unique regalia appear.  Samson's parents and other relatives greet their ancestors with respect and gifts, hopeful that they may help.

A new picture book from Tololwa M. Mollel is always cause for celebration.  Though illustrators may change, the text will always be powerful and inspired and immersed in his African heritage.  From Lands of the Night is no different, depicting the joy of community and tradition, culture and history.  Though the story may reflect Tololwa M. Mollel's African (Tanzanian) heritage, the colours and vibrancy of Darrell McCalla's illustrations definitely have a warm Caribbean flavour.  As such, From Lands of the Night may be more universal than initially thought, reflecting the similarity of stories told across regions.

There will be some (there always are) who will question the inclusion and appropriateness of angels and spirits and even a God in a children's book.  Tololwa M. Mollel, ever the sensitive statesman, addresses this potential concern in his poignant author notes, which should be read by all for greater understanding.  But I see the global nature of From Lands of the Night by including common elements of faith and belief systems to which so many turn when crises of body or spirit arise.  The reassurance that our world extends beyond the here-and-now and includes a rich support system of ethereal entities is both reassuring and hopeful.

Blues for Zoey: Blog Tour stop

by Robert Paul Weston

Razorbill
978-0-14-318328-0
272 pp.
Ages 13+
For release February 2014

Although the title of this book is Blues for Zoey, the reader would be hard-pressed not to sing the blues for sixteen-year-old Kaz whose life is filled with responsibilities and worries.  Though his family once lived comfortably in Rosemount, the death of Kaz's dad and his mother's illness has the family now living above the Sit N' Spin laundromat and dry cleaners where Kaz works for Mr. Rodolfo.  Mom suffers from somnitis, a disorder which causes her to fall asleep at anytime and for days, and she can no longer perform as an orchestral musician.  Between taking care of his eight-year-old sister Nomi, worrying about his mother, saving frantically so he can take her to an expensive treatment facility in New York City, working, and going to school, Kaz has little time for socializing.  But when Calen, his only Rosemount friend to stick by him, asks Kaz to join him and his girlfriend Alana at the big summer party of rich boy Topher Briggs, it's the beginning of something new.

Though Kaz's former girlfriend Becky is now going out with the pompous Topher, and Kaz is looking to grab the attention of the beautiful Christina Muniez, it's the girl with the blond dreadlocks who makes the biggest impression.  Kaz has spotted Zoey Zamani several times on the street near Dave Mizra's jewelry store, carrying a large cross-shaped structure which Kaz learns is a musical instrument she created and calls a rood.  When he hears her play it and sing the obscure music of Shain Cope (a curiously talented but tragic musician), Kaz is hooked.

But Kaz is soon burdened with more concerns. First, as he tries to get to know Zoey, he suspects a very dangerous situation with her father.  Then, Kaz starts watching and spying on his boss Mr. Rodolfo who Zoey suspects of being involved in illegal activities like gambling and laundering money.  Finally, amongst the various characters Kaz knows in the community of Evandale, two homeless veterans, A-Man and B-Man, draw Kaz's attention with regards to their enigmatic interactions with  Mr. Rodolfo, especially after B-Man disappears. 

A more welcome situation has Kaz scrambling to do the right thing after a producer shooting a TV pilot around Evandale spots Zoey's rood hidden at the Sit N' Spin and recognizes it as an instrument made by Shain Cope and stolen after his death.  His offer to buy it has Kaz contemplating the money he could make for his mother's treatment and his relationship with Zoey.

Though Robert Paul Weston's Blues for Zoey is a complete departure from his fantastic stories of Zorgamazoo (Razorbill, 2008), Dust City (Puffin, 2010), Prince Puggly of Spud and the Kingdom of Spiff (Puffin, 2013) and The Creature Department (Razorbill, 2013), his characteristically detailed plotting is still evident.  To young adult readers, the subplots and secondary characters may appear to be simple add-ons but they do so much more than just add flavour, never revealed until those "aha" moments closer to the story's conclusion.  Never overlook the inclusion of any story element in Robert Paul Weston's books.  He doesn't do filler.  Others might need more words to fully elaborate on criss-crossing story-lines but never Robert Paul Weston.  I was convinced I knew where the story was going, and appreciated where it was heading, until that one piece of information dropped into the text.  Then those story-lines sorted themselves out, again, and Blues for Zoey transformed from a story about a teen with worries and smitten with a girl to a teen with worries and still smitten with a girl. You'll see the difference when you read Blues for Zoey and recognize that Robert Paul Weston has found a new avenue for his writing, drawing older teens in now too.  Fortunate readers, I'd say.

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Check out my interview with Robert Paul Weston soon in which he shares some details about Blues for Zoey and this new writing venture.

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The Color of Silence

Written by Liane Shaw
Second Story Press
978-1-926920-93-1
269 pp.
Ages 13-17
2013

Does silence have a colour?  Or does silence have different colours?  If I'd been asked those questions, I might have initially given silence the colour black - a void, without filling, a black hole of nothingness but the potential for sound.  But Liane Shaw shows us that The Color of Silence will vary with the listener, here specifically two teens: one whose world had been filled with laughter and song, and then terror, before she chooses not to speak; and one whose silence is involuntary as a result of a medical condition which has denied her a voice since birth.  And just as she did in Fostergirls (Second Story Press, 2011), her novel which was reviewed here on December 5, 2011, Liane Shaw demonstrates that perspective is everything and nothing is the same for everyone.

Alternating chapters between Alexandra and Joanie, and the reminiscences and present situations of both seventeen-year-old girls, Liane Shaw has the two connecting first due to a court order, definitely involuntarily, and then emotionally and naturally through silence.  Alexandra Taylor is court-ordered to provide 200 hours of community service after an accident in a borrowed car leads to the death of her best friend, the popular Cali Prescott.  While both Alex and Cali had loved singing, Cali's talent seemed more innate and now Alex can't even bear to speak.  With her dad, Alex is somewhat more forthcoming, although accepting the guilt for Cali's death and recognizing the futility of her words in preventing it have numbed Alex's desire for verbal communication. Unfortunately, Joanie is the one whose brain doesn't relay messages to her body and suffers through repeated bouts of severe respiratory distress, necessary feeding tubes, a lack of muscle control (except for her eyes) and no voice.  And yet she is the one who works tirelessly to understand Alex and to connect with her.

Joanie, whose poor health and absence of real family would give her great reasons for bitterness, shows only acceptance and understanding, trying to learn more about Alex's reluctance to speak (she doesn't know anything about the court order) and still appreciating the silence she brings.

I rather like having someone here who understands about silence. (pg. 69)

Joanie's silence is coloured with the prisms of light, i.e., rainbows, that reflect from a stone necklace that has been hung above her hospital bed.  The colours trigger her memories of happier times, staying at the group home, going out on school trips, and just being able to leave her hospital bed. So much of her day is quiet because of the dearth of visitors, essentially only her care staff.  Until Alexandra.  Joanie is delighted with Alex's visits, although Alex barely groans out a gasp or yes or no for her first visits.  But Joanie takes it upon herself to get Alex speaking.

Finding the words in silence is one of the things I do best. (pg. 123)

Though the two girls seem to be voiceless, they are attentive to each other.  For Alex, she is too distracted at the beginning to notice much about Joanie, spending much of her efforts anticipating others judging her for her past "crime" and her lack of skills.  Similarly, Joanie worries about others' perceptions of her, even wishing that,

there was a magic mirror that could show him who I really am.  I don't want either of us to keep on looking at the outside of me. (pg. 93)

 When Joanie is given the opportunity to turn her eye movements into words using technology called the Eye Gaze (which they affectionately call the Wizard), the two girls are finally on the same page, with Alex realizing that she has something to offer Joanie i.e., the time and effort to ensure the Wizard is everything it can be.  They are only limited by Joanie's health and consequently time to see what the Wizard can help her achieve.

Liane Shaw ensures that the readers see that voicelessness can be selective or involuntary but the consequences similarly disheartening.  For each girl there is a degree of shame (justified or not, as much shame is) but understanding, appreciation and  effort can mitigate the effects, if only temporarily.  The Color of Silence is not a plot-driven novel of adventure, intriguing subplots or parables to teach us how to live. It's a story of two characters and how they develop and evolve into better functioning individuals, finding the colour in their lives.

The Paper House

by Lois Peterson
Orca Book Publishers
978-1-4598-0051-9
108 pp.
Ages 8-11
2012

Safiyah's ten years of life have been fraught with many hardships and tragedies.  She and her grandmother, Cucu, live in slums of Kibera outside of Nairobi, Kenya.  Her parents have both passed, her mother from AIDS, and now Cucu is ill and coughing up blood.  Fearful of losing the only family she has, and far away from her birth place, where the failure of the crops forced them to Kibera, Safiyah is determined to make improvements to their hut by repairing the holes that let the smoke and cold night air in.  In her daily scavenges of the dump, where she usually excavates those items which she can sell, Safiyah gathers old magazines with their glossy pictures of beautiful women, glamourous homes, fancy cars, and unfamiliar lives, hoping to use the paper to chink the cracks.

After repairing the walls, Safiyah selects magazine pictures to decorate the outside of the hut, using the scissors and paste shared from her friend Pendo's school.  The magazines are coveted by others, including young Chidi who tries to steal the magazines from her in the dump.  Fortunately for Safiyah, the infamous red-hair-dyed gang leader, Blade, comes to her rescue several times, while ensuring his cousin Chidi attends school regularly.  Although Cucu is vehement that Safiyah stay away from Blade a.k.a. Rasul, Safiyah reveals to him her fears for her grandmother's health.

This innocent admission to Rasul and her engagement with Pendo in the decoration of the house walls bring Safiyah to reognizing the efforts she must make in order to enrich her life with others.  As Cucu has reminded her, "Words are easy. Friendship is hard."  By embracing the help of others, without demeaning their efforts, Safiyah gets medical help for her grandmother and creates a work of art on the walls of their hut that brings even more blessings.

Safiyah's story of The Paper House demonstrates that, though the lives of children may be different, everyone has a way to connect with others and can benefit from these connections.  Safiyah learns that not everyone is as poor as they are but this is a lesson she needs to understand to elicit assistance.  Furthermore, although Rasul's family is obviously far wealthier than Safiyah's, the loss of Rasul's sister and the necessity for Chidi to become part of a new family indicate that anyone can experience tragedies and hardships.  With The Paper House, Safiyah makes her own luck, achieving a dream she believed impossible to attain, while endeavouring to improve the lives of others.

While I was not always sympathetic to Safiyah's reactions when she was upset (e.g., chastisizing Pendo for pasting the pictures on wrong when her friend only wanted to help), I cannot imagine the breadth of disappointment, fear, and unhappiness which pervades her responses.  Lois Peterson provides Safiyah with the demeanour of a child who must endure life, not embrace it, and so Saffy's less-than-considerate attitude may be more authentic even if less desirable.

The Paper House is a perfect read for sharing the lives of children in different parts of the world and providing a foundation of empathy upon which the supporting walls of understanding and caring can be built.