The Gryphon's Lair (A Royal Guide to Monster Slaying, Book 2): Guest review

This review was written by Grade 7 student Matthew Green.

Written by Kelley Armstrong

Puffin Canada

978-0-735265387

352 pp.

Ages 10-14

June 2020

 

The Gryphon's Lair is the second book in the A Royal Guide to Monster Slaying series by Kelley Armstrong. The Gryphon's Lair is every bit as good as A Royal Guide to Monster Slaying, which I loved, and maybe even a bit better!

The story is about the adventures of 12-year-old Princess Rowan, the Royal Monster Hunter elect, and her companions who are on a mission to reunite a lone baby gryphon with her kind after the mother (who Rowan captured in the first book) dies. But their mission is complicated by many monstrous encounters! They run into monsters of all shapes and sizes, from dropbears to wyverns and everything in between. During her adventures, Rowan learns lots of life lessons (and teaches a couple too!). For instance, she learns about the value of teamwork and she teaches that it’s better to choose peace over violence.

The story is told from Rowan’s point of view, so I enjoyed reading her inner thoughts as she slowly but surely forms plans to overcome obstacles under extreme pressure.

The book has a really great cast of characters too, both human and monster! My favourite character is Jacko the baby jackalope because he’s funny and cute and very protective of Rowan even though he's so small. I also like Wilmot the trainer because he’s tough but fair. I think that the catalogue of monster illustrations at the end of the book is pretty cool as well because it gives you a visual reference for all the monsters.

Though I have read the first book, The Gryphon's Lair explained everything before the real adventure started and that makes me very sure that you would understand this book even if you didn’t read the first one. Also, the writing itself is clear and thoughtful which makes it an easy and pleasurable read.

Overall I had a lot of fun reading this book! Personally I enjoyed the book largely because of the fantasy aspect, which is great for fantasy lovers, but I would strongly recommend this book to anyone who loves a good adventure story! I’m looking forward to more action-packed adventures with Rowan and her friends and can’t wait for the third book! I would give The Gryphon's Lair a 9/10.

~ Written by Matthew Green, Age 11 ¾

The King of Jam Sandwiches

Written by Eric Walters

Orca Book Publishers

978-1-4598-2556-7

312 pp.

Ages 8-12

September 2020

This was a difficult story for me to write because it's so personal. Many of the things I've written about are from my life. The question I'm already being asked is, How much of this is true? The answer is simple–too much and not enough. 

(From Author's Note) 

So begins The King of Jam Sandwiches, the story of thirteen-year-old Robbie whose familial circumstances have compelled him to take on adult responsibilities and worries far beyond his years, reminding all readers that even the most unbelievable of situations can be a child's reality.

Since his mother and grandparents have passed, Robbie only has his father, a man whose erratic behaviours shout of bipolar disorder, swinging between fears for his imminent death, hoarding food supplies and disappearing for days. Though he has an Uncle Jack and Aunt Cora, Robbie is always told that he'll be going into foster care if anything happens to his dad. So Robbie is the one steady element in his family. He cares for his dog, Candy; he does the laundry, if there's detergent; he peels potatoes when he gets home from school; and he works part-time at a butcher shop, though his father doesn't want him taking food, as charity, from the kindly Mr. and Mrs. Priamo. But Robbie does more than just endure and persevere. He makes plans and he has ambition.  Working hard to earn good grades and save his money, Robbie has a plan to get out from under his father and escape, ultimately going to university.

If you're broken and you know it, you have to get up every day and work harder and longer than everybody else if you want to get anywhere. (pg. 298)

Then Robbie meets Harmony, a new student. An enigma of brashness and hopelessness, Harmony is living with her newest foster family and counting on being reunited with her mother who has been in and out of rehab.  While Robbie feels that he has to prove himself, Harmony accepts his daily jam sandwiches as tasty, not humiliating; helps him buy some new, though heavily discounted, clothes that fit; and finds a way for him to do something fun like basketball. Robbie may not want to admit to anyone that they are poor and that his father is a negligent parent, feeling like this is the life he deserves, but Harmony, in her convoluted style, makes sure that he knows otherwise. 

I am loathe to call The King of Jam Sandwiches a coming-of-age story because, sadly, Robbie and Harmony have been adults for years.  They've carried burdens that children should not. They are the parents in their lives, looking after the adults who have failed to be parents. They live disquieted lives, never knowing when danger might arise or when the flimsy stability they've create for themselves might dissipate. And Eric Walters establishes that precariousness of reality from the onset and throughout The King of Jam Sandwiches. There is no respite from the poverty or the instability. There is only survival, physical and emotional, and the reader's hope that Robbie and Harmony get through it. (The author's "Post Note" reassures that they do.)

The King of Jam Sandwiches is a tough read because no one wants to think about children suffering. But The King of Jam Sandwiches is reality for many children, and while telling us about his own childhood wrapped in Robbie's story, Eric Walters has given voice to children who, like Robbie, don't think they deserve better or that they count. They do. They are the royalty of their own realities and, if they can get the support they need and want, they may even come to recognize that,

"You already are somebody." (pg. 115) 

Harvey Holds His Own

Written by Colleen Nelson
Illustrations by Tara Anderson

Pajama Press

978-1-77278-114-4

288 pp.

Ages 8-12

August 2020

It's funny how a little dog can help people without even trying. (pg.73)

After Harvey's first adventure (Harvey Comes Home, 2019) in which he becomes lost, Maggie's West Highland Terrier is happy to be home, though he does miss the boy who'd found him and the people at Brayside Retirement Villa where he'd spent much of his "leave." However, seventh grader Maggie doesn't necessarily feel very hospitable to Austin who, though he'd cared for Harvey well, had kept her dog without looking for his home. Still, as she chooses to do her volunteer hours at Brayside where Austin works alongside his grandfather, the head custodian of the facility, Maggie will learn more about connecting with others, even those with whom she seemingly has little in common, courtesy of a little dog.

Told from the different perspectives of Maggie, Austin and Harvey, Harvey Holds His Own follows multiple plot lines, all brought together via Maggie's volunteering at Brayside. There she meets new resident, Mrs. Josephine Fradette, a spirited senior, who shares her memories of being evacuated from Winnipeg to her grandparents' home during the Red River flood of 1950 and learning car mechanics from her Pépère. This connection is especially meaningful for Maggie who is feeling isolated from best friends Lexi and Brianne. Meanwhile Austin continues to help his grandfather at Brayside and is thrilled to reacquaint himself with Harvey during Maggie's visits–though he'd dearly love a dog of his own–but is distracted by fears that his Grandpa is in danger of losing his job.  And then there's adorable Harvey whose nose will lead him to both crisis and blessing, and bring Maggie, Austin, and others together in an ending that will leave readers smiling, heartened and satisfied.

From Harvey Holds His Own by Colleen Nelson, illus. by Tara Anderson

I am always apprehensive of animal stories as I anticipate hardships like vulnerabilities, injury and cruelty, especially at the hands of humans. Unfortunately, these things do happen in reality and they always leave me emotionally shattered. But Colleen Nelson, with her compassionate heart and love for Westies–there is a photo of her with her own family's–gives us a story of a girl, a boy and a dog (or two) that will make readers happy, both entertaining and reassuring them that things can work out well in the end. And while many will be drawn to this middle-grade novel because it is an animal story at its core, there are important messages about courage and perseverance, friendships new and old, and even love.

Loving something always comes with a risk; that's what makes it so special. (pg. 245)

I had to take a risk reading Harvey Holds His Own because of my own anxieties. What I got for that risk was a lovely story–with chapter headings delightfully illustrated by Tara Anderson–that reassures that there are good people who will always do right by others, whether they be their canine families, seniors in a long-term care facility, or friends. And isn't it nice to know, especially nowadays, that there is goodness out there?

I Do Not Like Stories

Written by Andrew Larsen

Illustrated by Carey Sookocheff

Owlkids Books

978-1-77147-378-1

32 pp.

Ages 3-7

September 2020

Like many children, this child has very definite preferences, especially about the types of stories he likes. Actually he is more adamant about the types of stories he doesn't like than those he likes. But does he really know what he doesn't like?

From I Do Not Like Stories by Andrew Larsen, illus. by Carey Sookocheff

From waking up to his cat pawing his face to getting dressed, feeding his fish, heading to school and participating in his school day, the child is reminded about all the stories he doesn't like i.e., stories about fish and buildings, numbers and fruit, and buses and bikes. As the day goes on, everything remind him of the stories he doesn't like.

From I Do Not Like Stories by Andrew Larsen, illus. by Carey Sookocheff

But as the boy relates all the stories he does not like, his cat, a lovely tuxedo, lives those stories. The boy doesn't like stories about numbers or letters but his cat races by a parking meter and surprises the postal carrier with his bag of mail. The boy languishes over his lunch fruit and thinks about how much he does not like stories about apples or pears or peaches or plums while his feline friend visits a fruit stand, toppling produce after a dog chases it away. For each experience for which the child recounts his dislike of stories, his cat is creating its own stories about that same set of circumstances. From trees to going home and doing things, the boy dislikes the stories and the cat lives them.

From I Do Not Like Stories by Andrew Larsen, illus. by Carey Sookocheff

In the end, the boy relents that he might like a story about a cat.

Without establishing the fact that the child has been wrong all along and that he, in fact, does like stories, Andrew Larsen delivers that message with a tongue-in-cheek approach. It's like a parent who smiles, knowing that the child who insists that they don't like something will like it once they try it. It's accepting a child's assertions as true but allowing for leeway in the actuality of those pronouncements. By allowing the child to come to that realization himself, Andrew Larsen takes the adult out of the equation and makes it all about the growth of the child in learning what he might like for himself.

As in her earlier books (see What Happens Next, Wet and Buddy and Earl for other samples), Carey Sookocheff's illustrations play on the author's important message and elevates it with subtlety of colour and line for greater impact. Her artwork plays on that juxtaposition of child and cat, what one affirms and the other experiences. Same circumstances but different perspectives and appreciation for those circumstances. Carey Sookocheff's minimalist palette, primarily pale blue-greys with splashes of yellow and orange, keeps the reader focused on the darkest elements of her illustrations: the cat and the child's head. So, while it is the child's head only that has decided what he doesn't like, it's the whole cat that lives life, pursuing adventures and involving itself in its day fully.

For any child who cannot see beyond a pervasive opinion that may or may not be valid, I Do Not Like Stories will make them think twice and perhaps even consider a different perspective to the story.

From I Do Not Like Stories by Andrew Larsen, illus. by Carey Sookocheff

Sara and the Search For Normal: Guest review

This review was written by teacher Elizabeth Cook.

Written by Wesley King

Simon & Schuster/ Paula Wiseman Books

978-1-534421134

272 pp.

Ages 8-12

June 2020

Is it bad to admit that I pick books based on their covers and titles?  Well, sometimes I do. I loved Wesley King’s Laura Monster Crusher, but didn’t even notice that he was the author when I saw the title Sara and the Search For Normal.  The title just drew me in. After all, what is normal?  I know that, while on a European trip with my parents, we were deemed "that crazy family" when we continued to sit on a patio enjoying our schnitzel in a downpour. Even though I had deemed our lives to be pretty normal, others, including friends, recognized our eccentricities. When I spotted Sara and the Search for Normal, I couldn’t wait to see how Sara’s search for "normal" would go.

Seventh-grader Sara hates the labels of the four disorders which have been tacked on her: bipolar disorder, general anxiety disorder, mild schizophrenia, and depression. But she really only wants one title and that's normal. Her school days are spent in an isolated classroom with her one-on-one teacher Mrs. Hugger, and she only speaks to a handful of people including her parents, teacher, and therapist. It's not surprising that she studies other students for normalcy on the rare occasions she is allowed to go to the cafeteria with Mrs. Hugger. Then Sara keeps a secret list of what "normal" kids do so that it might help her on her own journey to normal.

Though she is hesitant, Sara begins to attend group therapy for kids her age with similar issues. There she meets the very different Erin, who speaks a mile a minute, and loves ice cream and Ryan Gosling movies. Erin has trichotillomania (hair pulling disorder) and dubs Sara her new bestie within seconds of meeting her. These two mismatched friends navigate therapy, adolescence, and friendship together all while trying to manage their own family problems.

I really enjoyed living the novel through Sara’s perspective. It can be hard for neurotypical people to fully understand the struggles of those with various mental disorders. While most readers might not be able to fully empathize with all that Sara goes through on a daily basis with her many diagnoses, everyone will be able to feel her emotions. There's her first crush, the ups and downs in friendships, trying to fit in at school, and dealing with family members, and Wesley King does a fabulous job of balancing Sara’s search for "normal" with the joys and anguish that come with being a teenager.

Upon finishing the novel, I read the "Author Notes" at the back of the book and realized this book is a companion novel to Wesley King’s popular book OCDaniel (2016).  If you have read that multi-award-winning book, you will have already been introduced to Sara.  Because her character was so well-received by the readers who wanted to know more about her, Wesley King has given us Sara and the Search for Normal.  Regardless, this book can easily be read as a stand-alone novel and enjoyed without knowing the story of OCDaniel, though if you're like me and have not read OCDaniel, it's sure to be on your To Be Read list too.  As such, I look forward to reading the beginnings of Sara’s story in OCDaniel.


~ Reviewer Elizabeth Cook is a teacher in the Halton District School Board. She is an avid reader and fan of Canadian literature. 

Mr. Beagle Goes to Rabbittown

Written and illustrated by Lori Doody

Running the Goat, Books & Broadsides

978-1-927917-31-2

44 pp.

Ages 3-6

July 2020

This new picture book from Newfoundland's Lori Doody is a true allegory about a multicultural society, emphasizing the precarious balance of acceptance of self and community, of staying true to oneself while trying to fit in.

From Mr. Beagle Goes to Rabbittown by Lori Doody

In Rabbittown, a town alive with colour, all the bunnies know each other.  Then Mr. Beagle comes to town and opens up his convenience store. Because the bunnies–this is Rabbittown–"didn't know what to think of him," Mr. Beagle's business is slow. At the same time, mittens begin to go missing. Having a "good nose for sniffing out trouble," Mr. Beagle goes on the hunt for the lost mittens.

From Mr. Beagle Goes to Rabbittown by Lori Doody

He prowls the streets and businesses and eventually detects an odd scent in Rabbittown, finding one "fishy" bunny.  When this rabbit is revealed to be a cat who'd just wanted to fit in to the neighbourhood and was borrowing mittens for his kittens who kept losing their own, the community comes together to embrace the new arrivals and any others who decide to make Rabbittown their home. 

From Mr. Beagle Goes to Rabbittown by Lori Doody

Rabbittown, with its Hare Salon, Hop's barbershop and Hoppington Post, reflects a community that, on its surface, appears to be segregated but is not. They may be different species in a town settled by rabbits but it becomes evident that all belong and are welcomed.

And now Rabbittown was a neighbourhood where 
any bunny, dog, cat, mouse, squirrel or fox
could find new friends 
and warm mittens.

As she did in her earlier books Capelin Weather (2017), The Puffin Problem (2017), Mallard, Mallard, Moose (2018), and Paint the Town Pink (2019), author and illustrator Lori Doody paints an important message in a charming story. Older readers will understand the complexity of a story about diversity and inclusivity, though our youngest readers may only see a tale about rabbits and a dog and some cats, and be captivated by the colours of Lori Doody's artwork. But, with re-readings of the story, and looking back, as I did, to see whether they can spot the wannabe rabbit from the onset, they will be excited to realize the clues were there all along and will endeavour to fill in more of the story for themselves. As welcoming as her illustrations of bold colours and folksy shapes, Lori Doody's story invites the reader into a community where everyone and anyone can reside and be accepted.

Please Don't Change My Diaper!

Written by Sarabeth Holden

Illustrated by Emma Pedersen

Inhabit Media

978-1-77227-273-4

28 pp.

Ages 0-4

June 2020 

As adults, we know why babies must have their diapers changed and why children should bathe. We know about cleanliness and hygiene and good health. But babies don't have any understanding of this. So, it's not surprising that when a mom swoops in for a diaper change, this little guy is screaming in his mind, "Please Don't Change My Diaper!"

From Please Don't Change My Diaper! by Sarabeth Holden, illus. by Emma Pedersen

In a charming rhyming voice, a toddler is excited at the prospect of heading outside to play in the snow with his puppy. Sure he smells something malodorous but,

I think I know...but let's just go!

Don't worry about where it's coming from.

Oh no, what's that you say, Mum?

And when his mother, only seen from his perspective as a pair of legs in slippers, socks and leggings, brings out the diaper, decorated in pale aqua with teddy bears, it's as if his whole world has collapsed. 

From Please Don't Change My Diaper! by Sarabeth Holden, illus. by Emma Pedersen

The toddler is tormented by the vision of a multitude of diapers. He's begging for her not to do this, and imaging telling his friends how much he cares for them, as if he would never see them again.

I will miss my fluffy puppy.
I will miss the sparkly snow.
To my best friends, near and far,
I love you, you must know!

From Please Don't Change My Diaper! by Sarabeth Holden, illus. by Emma Pedersen

With face grimacing with irritation and perhaps even fear, the little boy's diaper is changed.  Of course he survives the trauma and, in fact, is gratified by the "fresh, delightful feeling" while still recognizing that the world remains as it had. (That is, until another inevitable change is required.)

From Please Don't Change My Diaper! by Sarabeth Holden, illus. by Emma Pedersen

While Sarabeth Holden can only imagine what this little one is thinking, she ensures an authenticity with the innocence of his perspective, the mindfulness of the moment i.e., play over diaper change, and the singularity of his needs and wants. She makes him sweet and emotive while also timid and fearful, giving him a candid voice that rhymes with wonder and simple acceptance of his circumstances.  Emma Pedersen, whose artwork was reviewed in Queenie Quail Can't Keep Up (Jane Whittingham, 2019), emulates that simplicity of wonder in a child's life. His big eyes and cherubic arms anticipate both goodness and caring, even if he doesn't really want that diaper change. His worries, completely reflective of a very young child's point of view, are ephemeral in nature, regularly supplanted by new opportunities for a hug, for a cuddle with a puppy, for play. By the end of the book, the child has forgotten his discontent with a diaper change and accepts his life as one of comfort and affection.

I know this picture book is about a toddler who doesn't want his diaper changed, and so would be an appropriate book to help the very young accept their own diaper routines as normal, but Please Don't Change My Diaper! is also a reassuring take on circumstances that might cause some anxiety. The trepidation is real but perhaps recognizing the transient nature of some worries can be enough to put them aside like a dirty diaper, never to soil a perfectly good day.