Review of Will Grayson, Will Grayson by John Green and David Levithan

Green, John and David Levithan. Will Grayson, Will Grayson. Dutton, 2010.

John Green specializes in a certain kind of character - the ordinary sort of teenage guy who wears ordinary, nondescript clothes (think jeans, low-tops, and a t-shirt), and doesn't belong to any particular group or clique. What happens? This guy always falls hard for a beautiful, exuberant, unique, witty, outrageous girl with Issues.

David Levithan, as those who have read his books know, is fond of quirky repartee and plenty of excursions to dive-y little nightclubs to see obscure indie bands that no one else has heard of. His teens may seem too cool to live, sometimes (even when they're supposed to be weird or uncool), but they're always people you wish you knew (or you wish you were).

This book is about two Will Graysons; they are two different people, both teen boys who live in Illinois and narrate their stories in alternate chapters. One is the typical John Green Every Dude, but he's a little more closed-down than usual. He keeps his head down, avoids getting entangled in relationships, and is rather aggressively pathetic. This Will's best friend is Tiny, an enormous gay teen with the personality and flamboyance to match his size, who is writing a school musical called Tiny Dancer (fabulous name!).

The other Will is a very troubled teen who is gay but can barely admit it to himself, much less any one else, including his friend-by-default Maura. His big joy and secret is Isaac, a teen he met on the Internet and with whom he has been chatting - and falling in love - for months. Finally, they decide to meet in Chicago. Does this turn out well? Of course not. This Will's segments are all written in lower case, signaling his low self-esteem.

However, one thing that does come of this excursion to Chicago is that the two Wills meet each other, and the gay Will meets Tiny. This relationship becomes a small but crucial part of Tiny Dancer. Meanwhile, straight Will is so reluctant come out of his cozy little shell that the musically snobby but otherwise quite wonderful Jane has to practically beat him around the head and shoulders to get him to commit to the slightest kind of relationship with her.

Both Wills can be aggravating, self-pitying, dense, and downright foolish. But they are basically good people whose instincts for kindness have to be coaxed out by the people around them. This book is all about the necessity of taking risks, even though it means you will very likely get hurt. Over and over, even. But if you don't take risks, the really good stuff will never happen to you - and finally both Wills really get it.

It's Tiny who really shows them - his musical is all about love (well, really it's all about Tiny, but it's about love, too). The lyrics to his songs are so good, I would pay good money to see this musical on Broadway.

What's second base for a gay man?

Is it tuning in Tokyo?

I can't see how that would feel good

But maybe that's how it should go?

This novel is excruciatingly painful and hysterically funny by turns, sometimes on the same page. It's also more "real" than some of Green's and Levithan's other books - these kids really could exist. Well, except for Tiny, who seems WAY too awesome, talented, and out-and-out fabulous to be possible. But I wish he was my friend!

I LOVE this book - and my 15-year-old daughter (who usually reads only fantasy) loves it, too. So there you go. Grades 8 and up.

Susan Patron loves libraries

In case you missed it, here is Susan Patron's eloquent case for why libraries and librarians are vital to all of us - and how you can help the Los Angeles Public Library at www.savethelibrary.org. Thank you to Tina Nichols Coury for posting it on her blog Tales from the Rushmore Kid.

Two books about adventures with friends

O'Connor, Barbara. The Small Adventure of Popeye and Elvis. Frances Foster Books/FSG, 2009.

Roberts, Ken. Thumb and the Bad Guys. Groundwood Books, 2009.

Every shy and introspective sort of person needs the kind of friend who, by the sheer force of his or her powerful indifference to rules and regulations and the possibility of punishment and public shame, encourages the normally reticent person to Break the Rules.

And so it is with Popeye and Elvis. Popeye lives with his grandma Velma and his good-for-nothing Uncle Dooley (who accidentally shot Popeye in the eye with a BB gun when Popeye was three years old - hence the name) in tiny Fayette, South Carolina, where everything is always the same. Boring. And then a big old motor home gets stuck in the mud near Popeye's house, bringing Elvis (and his 5 younger siblings) into Popeye's life for a while.

Elvis is taciturn (one of Popeye's Velma-taught vocabulary words), rebellious, and full of moody attitude. He is, in short, a Royal Rule Breaker and Popeye is spell-bound. And when they discover a Yoo-hoo carton turned into a perfect little boat and sailing down the creek - and it has an enigmatic note in it, too - they know they've found the perfect small adventure. Who is making these little boats?

This is a summer story full of squabbling little kids, tired old dogs, and eccentric Southern folks with odd names. It has some terrific insults ("hog-stinkin' sack of nothin'"), some excellent vocabulary words (and some creative ways of using them, as in - referring to Velma's rage at Uncle Dooley - "The avuncular atmosphere in the house was not too good."), and a lovely, satisfying ending that is really a beginning.

It feels so timeless that, if it weren't for the small drink boxes of Yoo-hoo and a mention of large plastic bottles of soda, I'd guess this took place in the 50's - there are no computers or cell phones in evidence, just a couple of tv sets.

Also timeless is Thumb and the Bad Guys, set in the tiny Canadian seaside village of New Auckland. If it weren't for a mention of Harry Potter, I'd have been certain that this was set in an earlier decade - and certainly the illustrations by Leanne Franson depict girls and women in cats-eye glasses and other retro attire.

Thumb and Susan are as bored as Popeye was, and it's because nothing exciting ever happens in their town. What they need, Thumb decides, is a Bad Guy. And sure enough, they find one. Kirk McKenna has not only some very odd personal habits but has also been sneaking around in a very nefarious manner. And then the kids get a weird new teacher - why on earth would anyone want to come to their boring village if not for some sinister purpose? It turns out that there is a secret - and the whole town is in on it.

This is a particularly quiet and old-fashioned kind of tale, with plenty of charm and slightly offbeat humor. What is with the teacher and her bathing cap wig? And Kirk's nasty obsession with spitting? And of course there is the reason Thumb got his nickname...

Both of these tales will offer kids a short but hugely entertaining trip to quiet little places where nothing ever happens.

Or DOES it?

Both books are quite short, but are great for grades 3 to 5.

What - me worry?

Being determined to enjoy this gorgeous day, I pushed my netbook away after my last post and got into my running gear. Just before I left the house, my mom called about some stuff I needed to pick up later that day.

Mom: ...and I'll put the key in an envelope for you.

Me: The key?

Mom: The key to the office at UCLA.

Me: ...??

Me: Ohmygod, the class starts this Tuesday!!!!!!!!!

Yeah, I mean, I knew I was teaching a 10-week evening class on storytelling and story-based library programming every Tuesday this quarter and I knew it starts March 30 and I'm even prepared for it.

But still!!!!!!!!!!!

The instant surge of terror-fueled adrenalin launched me out the door and I ran like the twin wolves of Obligation and Responsibility were snarling at my heels - which of course they were. But by the time I arrived home, they were trotting at my side, tails wagging - 'cause darn it, I LIKE to be busy and I'm looking forward to teaching this class and I truly love my work.

The lesson?
Turn Stress into Strides! Turn Fear into Forward Motion!

Heh...
Seriously - it's not about the finish line, but about the joy of the race.

Worthy of Celebration

My horoscope for today says "Instead of fixing your happiness on some faraway moment when you will be richer, lighter and more loved, you realize that this is the greatest moment of your life and worthy of celebration."

As a rule, I ignore my daily astrological forecast, but this one seems particularly timely and apt. Substitute "better rested, caught up on all email, blogs, and professional journals, and stunningly successful at everything you do" for the richer, lighter, and more loved part, and it about sums up my current state of mind.

Usually I come back from a professional conference rejuvenated in mind, body and spirit, ready to go back to work and Effect Change. And I did glean some excellent ideas and nuggets of inspiration from PLA this past week (which I will share later today or tomorrow).

But when I think of the seething eel-infested morass of scariness that awaits me in my Cluttered Corner Cubicle of Chaos (otherwise known as my "office"), I am filled with terror. Truly - my heart rate speeds up, I feel faint, my palms get clammy. There is SO MUCH TO DO. And I don't want to do a half-assed job, especially in these times. The YA and Children's Librarians deserve and need the best Youth Services Coordinator possible. And that person has got to be me. This is NOT the time to be having a panic attack!

The April 2010 issue of Sunset Magazine includes an essay by Anne Lamott, author not only of excellent novels but also of the essential book about writing, Bird by Bird. In the Sunset essay (not available online at the moment, unfortunately), she writes about the dangers of multitasking and a too-busy life. Her basic message, stated with her usual grace, humor, and straightforward common sense, is that you need to have some quiet time every day in order to connect with yourself. That time won't just happen - you have to make it happen, probably by giving up something else, be it cleaning the house, watching tv, exercising, or - erm - blogging.

Well - running is, for me, a way to connect with myself and the world around me, so that counts as a mindful, necessary, and creative activity. And sometimes my mind whirls so ceaselessly that I have to write, be it blog posts or letters to friends.

But, per the instructions of Anne Lamott and my horoscope, I am NOT going to waste time rending my garments over what I was not able to accomplish this past week due to illness and bad wifi connections nor will I spend the last two days of my long weekend fretting about what awaits me at work.

I am going to DELETE - UNREAD - all 487 new blog posts that have built up in my feed reader over the past week even though this will mean I will be out of the loop/in the dark/vastly ignorant of all recent library/literature issues and events (oh lord, the heart palpitations are starting...). I will do just enough catch-up work today and tomorrow to be able to look forward to Tuesday with anticipation, not dread.

This weekend has been sunny and warm, perfect weather for line-drying laundry, glorying in the flowers in my garden while ignoring the weeds, watching the chickens take dirt baths amongst the parsley, and being a busy little sun-drunk Vitamin D factory.

Time to celebrate this moment, right now.

Review of Cosmic by Frank Cottrell Boyce

Boyce, Frank Cottrell. Cosmic. HarperCollins, 2010.

If you can accept the wild premise that a 12-year-old boy can look enough like a 30-year-old man to fool numerous kids and adults into thinking he's old enough to have a 12-year-old daughter, then you're set to enjoy this book.

And if this is too much of a stretch, don't worry. This isn't meant to be realistic fiction - in fact, think Roald Dahl slathered with a good dose of Daniel Pinkwater, and you're getting close to the attitude of this loopy, off-the-wall tale.

That Liam is abnormally tall and whiskery enough to be taken for an adult is well set up. He has to carry around his passport to assure various adults that yes, he is indeed just a kid, and he and his slightly annoying friend Florida have fun pretending in public that she is his daughter. After they pretend to want to buy a sports car, which nearly leads to what would have been a certainly illegal and possibly lethal test drive, Florida gets tired of the game. Therefore, she takes some convincing (and some lying to) when Liam wins an opportunity for a few select dads and their kids to preview an amazing new Chinese theme park.

Except it's not quite a theme park - and its most thrilling ride is an actual rocket, for blasting four children and one dad into space and back. Long story short - Liam ends up being the dad.

The three real dads and their kids are right out of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, each with a fatal flaw - love of control and power, avariciousness, and so on - that makes them surreal and cartoony. Liam, being an authentic sort of kid, may not make a particularly good or convincing dad, but he is by far the best human of the bunch.

By the time the rocket has gone off course and left the kids with no contact with Earth, the reader may be hard pressed to remember that Liam is, in fact, only 12 years old. He has had to pull himself together and exhibit true Dadliness to the other four so that they not only won't fall apart but can actually find a way to get back home.

Convincing? Of course not - this is a far-fetched Pinkwateresque tale, filled with unlikely characters and impossible situations. But what will be clear to readers is that Liam is able to save the situation thanks to the love and support he has always gotten from his own dad - and his mom, as well. When Liam suddenly gets a signal on his cell phone, a call from his dad immediately comes through. Not because of some coincidence, but because his dad is worried about Liam (who is supposedly away at some school nature trip) and has been calling non-stop.

Fans of Boyce's previous novels will enjoy this one as well, but give it to all those who have enjoyed the odd humor of Daniel Pinkwater, Adam Rex's The True Meaning of Smekday, and of course Roald Dahl. For grades 4 to 7.

The Curse of Portland

When I was here in Portland 19 1/2 years ago for my belated honeymoon, I was so morning sick that I stumbled around in a nauseous, exhausted daze. My new husband, meanwhile, spent our Portland visit curled up sick in our hotel bed. Neither of us was in any condition to sightsee - what made the biggest impression on us were the constantly bubbling drinking fountains, something almost unimaginable to us drought-stricken Southern Californians.

Here I am, back in Portland for the Public Library Association conference. I have been sick since Tuesday night - spent most of Wednesday in bed (luckily had no programs that day) and am dragging myself around the convention center today in a seriously unpleasant stupor, determined not to miss any programs. (I'm trying to stay at least 10 feet away from all people, which comes naturally to my hermitic self).

Happily, the drinking fountains still bubble merrily.

Full report on the conference to come, once I am healthy and coherent.