Dear Publishers, Authors and Publicists:

Thank you so much for keeping Book Buds on your email list but the volume of your correspondence is getting a bit, well, spammy, if I may say so.  I still get anywhere from 3-5 solicitations for book reviews a day. 

I hate to say it, but I'm done here, folks. The archives are left up for parents to browse, but there hasn't been a new review in a year-and-a-half. Sadly, there won't be any more reviews because I've got a new job, a new home, a life and the wonderful Cybils awards. Please join me there for more kidlit fun.

Need books reviewed? Check Kidlitosphere Central for a list of active book bloggers. 

Thanks for your support over the years.

Regards,

Anne Levy

Okay, nothing says "go away and don't come back" more than announcing a blog vacation. But I get so many folks emailing (2-3 a day, at least) that I feel I owe both newcomers and longtime readers an explanation for my absence.

It's time for Book Buds' annual, totally involuntary, curse-my-blogging-luck hiatus. My first summer (2005), I gave birth, and, being the lazy sort, decided that if I managed to scrounge a half hour of peace here and there, I should spend it sleeping. Selfish, I know.

Back then, I was getting 12 hits a day, so it was no big deal. I'll probably go down to that again before the summer's out, but I'm afraid to look at my stats counter.

The next year (2006) I moved cross-country from L.A. to Chicago. Who emptied out the house, schlepped back and forth to Goodwill, packed and re-packed and futzed and fretted? Why, me. Who blogged? Not me.

And then last summer, my mother died of cancer. No blogging then, for all the obvious reasons, plus I had to pack up a sizable part of her house too.

That brings us to this summer. We're moving to Arizona. It's a dream come true--I still can't believe I talked Brett into this. No, I didn't need to convince him that lifestyle, family and health issues are no less important than career fulfillment, and it was time to achieve a better balance. He'd been saying that for years. What I did was finally lay out the roadmap for getting us there and then drop from shock when he listened.

See, ladies? They do sometimes ask for directions.

Now, I have to hold up my end. That means more boxes.

And less blogging.

I'll be back in mid-summer (I hope I hope). And of course this in no way affects The Cybils.

Happy summer, everyone.

Okay, nothing says "go away and don't come back" more than announcing a blog vacation. But I get so many folks emailing (2-3 a day, at least) that I feel I owe both newcomers and longtime readers an explanation for my absence.

It's time for Book Buds' annual, totally involuntary, curse-my-blogging-luck hiatus. My first summer (2005), I gave birth, and, being the lazy sort, decided that if I managed to scrounge a half hour of peace here and there, I should spend it sleeping. Selfish, I know.

Back then, I was getting 12 hits a day, so it was no big deal. I'll probably go down to that again before the summer's out, but I'm afraid to look at my stats counter.

The next year (2006) I moved cross-country from L.A. to Chicago. Who emptied out the house, schlepped back and forth to Goodwill, packed and re-packed and futzed and fretted? Why, me. Who blogged? Not me.

And then last summer, my mother died of cancer. No blogging then, for all the obvious reasons, plus I had to pack up a sizable part of her house too.

That brings us to this summer. We're moving to Arizona. It's a dream come true--I still can't believe I talked Brett into this. No, I didn't need to convince him that lifestyle, family and health issues are no less important than career fulfillment, and it was time to achieve a better balance. He'd been saying that for years. What I did was finally lay out the roadmap for getting us there and then drop from shock when he listened.

See, ladies? They do sometimes ask for directions.

Now, I have to hold up my end. That means more boxes.

And less blogging.

I'll be back in mid-summer (I hope I hope). And of course this in no way affects The Cybils.

Happy summer, everyone.

Okay, nothing says "go away and don't come back" more than announcing a blog vacation. But I get so many folks emailing (2-3 a day, at least) that I feel I owe both newcomers and longtime readers an explanation for my absence.

It's time for Book Buds' annual, totally involuntary, curse-my-blogging-luck hiatus. My first summer (2005), I gave birth, and, being the lazy sort, decided that if I managed to scrounge a half hour of peace here and there, I should spend it sleeping. Selfish, I know.

Back then, I was getting 12 hits a day, so it was no big deal. I'll probably go down to that again before the summer's out, but I'm afraid to look at my stats counter.

The next year (2006) I moved cross-country from L.A. to Chicago. Who emptied out the house, schlepped back and forth to Goodwill, packed and re-packed and futzed and fretted? Why, me. Who blogged? Not me.

And then last summer, my mother died of cancer. No blogging then, for all the obvious reasons, plus I had to pack up a sizable part of her house too.

That brings us to this summer. We're moving to Arizona. It's a dream come true--I still can't believe I talked Brett into this. No, I didn't need to convince him that lifestyle, family and health issues are no less important than career fulfillment, and it was time to achieve a better balance. He'd been saying that for years. What I did was finally lay out the roadmap for getting us there and then drop from shock when he listened.

See, ladies? They do sometimes ask for directions.

Now, I have to hold up my end. That means more boxes.

And less blogging.

I'll be back in mid-summer (I hope I hope). And of course this in no way affects The Cybils.

Happy summer, everyone.

No, not that Blackberry, silly. Author Terry Pierce will be answering questions about her delightful new nature book from Sylvan Dell, Blackberry Banquet. I plan to run a review on Wednesday, so check back here.

I would've participated too, but I've got boxes piled shoulder high in anticipation of our imminent move to Arizona. More on that another time, though.

Meantime, Pierce is slated to appear twice this week:

Tuesday she'll be at illustrator Elizabeth Dulemba's blog.

Thursday she'll answer questions from the always-terrific, kidlitosphere goddess Anastasia Suen.

And don't forget to drop by on Wednesday for my review.

Thanks to the folks at Sylvan Dell for their hard work setting this up.

No, not that Blackberry, silly. Author Terry Pierce will be answering questions about her delightful new nature book from Sylvan Dell, Blackberry Banquet. I plan to run a review on Wednesday, so check back here.

I would've participated too, but I've got boxes piled shoulder high in anticipation of our imminent move to Arizona. More on that another time, though.

Meantime, Pierce is slated to appear twice this week:

Tuesday she'll be at illustrator Elizabeth Dulemba's blog.

Thursday she'll answer questions from the always-terrific, kidlitosphere goddess Anastasia Suen.

And don't forget to drop by on Wednesday for my review.

Thanks to the folks at Sylvan Dell for their hard work setting this up.

No, not that Blackberry, silly. Author Terry Pierce will be answering questions about her delightful new nature book from Sylvan Dell, Blackberry Banquet. I plan to run a review on Wednesday, so check back here.

I would've participated too, but I've got boxes piled shoulder high in anticipation of our imminent move to Arizona. More on that another time, though.

Meantime, Pierce is slated to appear twice this week:

Tuesday she'll be at illustrator Elizabeth Dulemba's blog.

Thursday she'll answer questions from the always-terrific, kidlitosphere goddess Anastasia Suen.

And don't forget to drop by on Wednesday for my review.

Thanks to the folks at Sylvan Dell for their hard work setting this up.

McFig & McFly: A Tale of Jealousy, Revenge, and Death {With a Happy Ending}
by Henrik Drescher
Candlewick Press

Y'know how that whole keeping-up-with-the-Joneses thing goes. It can start simple, with, say, a not unreasonable desire to be spared humiliation on the playground as the only kid without Pokemon cards. Before you know it, though, you're on track for a sub-prime mortgage and a Hummer.

Drescher warns kids away from worshiping the Prada-clad bitch goddess in this tale of two widower Dads whose friendship falls victim to DIY one-upmanship gone mad. McFig lives in a sweet little cottage with his daughter, Rosie, until McFly buys the lot next door with his son, Anton.

The two are best buds, and when McFly admires McFig's cottage, they build an identical one together. Then McFly gets all fancy and adds on a tower. McFig retaliates with a rooftop playroom. And on it goes, until the two houses rise like vertical villages, in a riot of colors and inky lines that spill into a jumble of rickety planks and pieces.

Meanwhile, of course, Anton and Rosie grow up and fall in love, not that their Dads notice. Is this a critique of those busy-beaver Baby Boomers by their laid-back Millennial offspring? Or a sad tale of two testosterone-crazed fathers mired in mid-life crisis?

At least they're not pitting their kids against each other, as my mother did with her best friend. That leaves scars. This only leaves two heaping piles of junk, and a funny tale for kids to shake their heads at.

Rating: *\*\

McFig & McFly: A Tale of Jealousy, Revenge, and Death {With a Happy Ending}
by Henrik Drescher
Candlewick Press

Y'know how that whole keeping-up-with-the-Joneses thing goes. It can start simple, with, say, a not unreasonable desire to be spared humiliation on the playground as the only kid without Pokemon cards. Before you know it, though, you're on track for a sub-prime mortgage and a Hummer.

Drescher warns kids away from worshiping the Prada-clad bitch goddess in this tale of two widower Dads whose friendship falls victim to DIY one-upmanship gone mad. McFig lives in a sweet little cottage with his daughter, Rosie, until McFly buys the lot next door with his son, Anton.

The two are best buds, and when McFly admires McFig's cottage, they build an identical one together. Then McFly gets all fancy and adds on a tower. McFig retaliates with a rooftop playroom. And on it goes, until the two houses rise like vertical villages, in a riot of colors and inky lines that spill into a jumble of rickety planks and pieces.

Meanwhile, of course, Anton and Rosie grow up and fall in love, not that their Dads notice. Is this a critique of those busy-beaver Baby Boomers by their laid-back Millennial offspring? Or a sad tale of two testosterone-crazed fathers mired in mid-life crisis?

At least they're not pitting their kids against each other, as my mother did with her best friend. That leaves scars. This only leaves two heaping piles of junk, and a funny tale for kids to shake their heads at.

Rating: *\*\

McFig & McFly: A Tale of Jealousy, Revenge, and Death {With a Happy Ending}
by Henrik Drescher
Candlewick Press

Y'know how that whole keeping-up-with-the-Joneses thing goes. It can start simple, with, say, a not unreasonable desire to be spared humiliation on the playground as the only kid without Pokemon cards. Before you know it, though, you're on track for a sub-prime mortgage and a Hummer.

Drescher warns kids away from worshiping the Prada-clad bitch goddess in this tale of two widower Dads whose friendship falls victim to DIY one-upmanship gone mad. McFig lives in a sweet little cottage with his daughter, Rosie, until McFly buys the lot next door with his son, Anton.

The two are best buds, and when McFly admires McFig's cottage, they build an identical one together. Then McFly gets all fancy and adds on a tower. McFig retaliates with a rooftop playroom. And on it goes, until the two houses rise like vertical villages, in a riot of colors and inky lines that spill into a jumble of rickety planks and pieces.

Meanwhile, of course, Anton and Rosie grow up and fall in love, not that their Dads notice. Is this a critique of those busy-beaver Baby Boomers by their laid-back Millennial offspring? Or a sad tale of two testosterone-crazed fathers mired in mid-life crisis?

At least they're not pitting their kids against each other, as my mother did with her best friend. That leaves scars. This only leaves two heaping piles of junk, and a funny tale for kids to shake their heads at.

Rating: *\*\

Hey all: If you're a Graphics Novel fan, you might know how to help us over at Cybils. We have five missing authors and illustrators who need their prizes.

Check out the post at Cybils for more info.

Hey all: If you're a Graphics Novel fan, you might know how to help us over at Cybils. We have five missing authors and illustrators who need their prizes.

Check out the post at Cybils for more info.

Hey all: If you're a Graphics Novel fan, you might know how to help us over at Cybils. We have five missing authors and illustrators who need their prizes.

Check out the post at Cybils for more info.

Runemarks
By Joanne Harris
Random House

Reviewed by Brett Levy

In a refreshing change of scenery, author Joanne Harris avoids the rutted road of Anglo fantasy and instead builds her characters around fallen Norse Gods trying to get by 500 years after their fall from grace.

More than just along for the ride is Maddy, who was born with an odd Rune on her hand. Shunned by her parents and small village, Maddy eventually discovers the meaning and power behind her birthmark with the help of a less-than-friendly man named One Eye and Loki, the Trickster.

While Maddy might be a symbol for hope to the Ancient Gods, the mysterious Order and its powerful “Word” is something else entirely. Our heroes must discover the intentions behind who or what is running the Order, which has banned dreaming and magic.

Equally refreshing: Maddy’s adventures reveal a strong female protagonist who has a smart head on her shoulders to boot. No silly Lara Croft stereotypes here.

My only beefs: it can be challenging at times to keep the Norse figures and Runes straight, and it is somewhat disconcerting how Maddy’s importance seems to diminish during the final moments of conflict.

Regardless, Runemarks restores some originality to magical worlds by transforming old stories into new.

Runemarks
By Joanne Harris
Random House

Reviewed by Brett Levy

In a refreshing change of scenery, author Joanne Harris avoids the rutted road of Anglo fantasy and instead builds her characters around fallen Norse Gods trying to get by 500 years after their fall from grace.

More than just along for the ride is Maddy, who was born with an odd Rune on her hand. Shunned by her parents and small village, Maddy eventually discovers the meaning and power behind her birthmark with the help of a less-than-friendly man named One Eye and Loki, the Trickster.

While Maddy might be a symbol for hope to the Ancient Gods, the mysterious Order and its powerful “Word” is something else entirely. Our heroes must discover the intentions behind who or what is running the Order, which has banned dreaming and magic.

Equally refreshing: Maddy’s adventures reveal a strong female protagonist who has a smart head on her shoulders to boot. No silly Lara Croft stereotypes here.

My only beefs: it can be challenging at times to keep the Norse figures and Runes straight, and it is somewhat disconcerting how Maddy’s importance seems to diminish during the final moments of conflict.

Regardless, Runemarks restores some originality to magical worlds by transforming old stories into new.