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#37 The Wednesday Wars by Gary D. Schmidt (2007)
53 points

Don’t know if this qualifies as a children’s—it’s kind of on the border between middle grade and YA, but it’s one of my favorite books of all time so I’m including it. There’s so much going on, and Schmidt has the wonderful capacity to make the reader laugh out loud and cry—all on the same page. – Heather Christensen

Two words: cream puffs – Jessalynn Gale

The plot from my review reads, “Mrs. Baker hates Holling Hoodhood. There’s no two ways about it, as far as he can tell. From the minute he entered her classroom she had it in for him and he’s trying not to become paranoid. Now because half the kids in his class are Jewish and half Catholic, every Wednesday Holling (a Protestant through and through) is stuck alone with Mrs. Baker while the other kids go to Hebrew School or Catechism for the afternoon. And what has this evil genius dreamt up for our poor young hero? Shakespeare. He has to read it and get tested on it regularly with the intention (Holling is sure) of boring him to death. The thing is, Holling kind of gets to like the stuff. Meanwhile, though, he has to deal with wearing yellow tights butt-gracing feathers, avoiding killer rats and his older sister, and deciding what to do about Meryl Lee Kowalski, ‘who has been in love with me since she first laid eyes on me in the third grade,’ amongst other things. Set during the school year of 1967-68 against a backdrop of Vietnam and political strife, Holling finds that figuring out who you are goes above and beyond what people want you to become.”

It won a Newbery Honor in 2008, beaten by the fantastic Good Masters! Sweet Ladies! by Laura Amy Schlitz.  A good year.  Since that time Schmidt wrote the companion novel Okay for Now.

PW said of it, “Unlike most Vietnam stories, this one ends happily, as Schmidt rewards the good guys with victories that, if not entirely true to the period, deeply satisfy.”

Said SLJ, “The tone may seem cloying at first and the plot occasionally goes over-the-top, but readers who stick with the story will be rewarded. They will appreciate Holling’s gentle, caring ways and will be sad to have the book end.”

Booklist liked it quite a bit saying, “Holling’s unwavering, distinctive voice offers a gentle, hopeful, moving story of a boy who, with the right help, learns to stretch beyond the limitations of his family, his violent times, and his fear, as he leaps into his future with his eyes and his heart wide open.”

Horn Book went on with, “Schmidt rises above the novel’s conventions to create memorable and believable characters.”

Kirkus concluded with, “Schmidt has a way of getting to the emotional heart of every scene without overstatement, allowing the reader and Holling to understand the great truths swirling around them on their own terms.”

And best of all was this section from Tanya Lee Stone’s New York Times review, “Still, while ‘The Wednesday Wars’ was one of my favorite books of the year, it wasn’t written for me. Sometimes books that speak to adults miss the mark for their intended audience. To see if the novel would resonate as deeply with a child, I gave it to an avid but discriminating 10-year-old reader. His laughter, followed by repeated outbursts of ‘Listen to this!,’ answered my questio

On Friday, August 19, 2011, Robert Lipsyte published an article entitled “Boys and Reading: Is There Any Hope?” for The New York Times. The premise of the piece is to “demystify … the testosterone code that would get teenage boys reading.”

The truth of the matter is that “boys’ aversion to reading, let alone to novels, has been worsening for years.” The question is why? Lipsyte provides a slew of answers from both Donald Gallo and Jon Scieszka. However, Michael Cart’s answer forced me to take pause. Cart, a past president of the Young Adult Library Services Association, summarizes the problem quite eloquently. He states,

“We need more good works of realistic fiction, nonfiction, graphic novels, on- or offline, that invite boys to reflect on what kinds of men they want to become,” he told me. “In a commercially driven publishing environment, the emphasis is currently on young women.”

I cannot refute Cart’s point. The publishing industry is currently exploding with books on angels, fairies, gossip girls, vampires, werewolves, et cetera all of which are geared towards girls. I’ll be the first to admit that these topics have never been nor will ever be of interest to boys.

So, the question remains: Is there any hope? Well, yes, there is. I wholeheartedly agree with Lipsyte:

[B]oys need to be approached individually with books about their fears, choices, possibilities and relationships — the kind of reading that will prick their dormant empathy, involve them with fictional characters and lead them into deeper engagement with their own lives. This is what turns boys into readers.

There is a treasure trove of material out there that includes The Wednesday Wars by Gary D. Schmidt, Holes by Louis Sachar and I Am the Messenger by Markus Zusak. However, it’s getting these books into the hands of boys that’s going to require every librarian, teacher and parent. To do so, we must educate ourselves before we can begin to inform the teenage boys in our lives. It’s not going to be easy but it can be done.

0 Comments on “Boys and Reading: Is There Any Hope?” as of 1/1/1900

The Latke Who Couldn't Stop Screaming: A Christmas Story
by Lemony Snicket
McSweeny's Books, 2007

Review copy...well, that's part of the whole story.

Report cards went home today, so I finally had time to take my tired, crabby self to the public library to complain about the online reserve system not working (a boatload of graphic novels for my CYBILS Graphic Novels Nominating Committee reading pleasure, if you must know). I went to one branch and they had the gall to tell me, "We're not really part of the library system, we just use their online reserves." So I went to the nearest for-real branch, and got my books custom-reserved by the guy at the help desk. He even went to look for a couple he thought might be on their shelves. While he did that, I wandered over to the new books display in the children's section. I picked up The Latke Who Couldn't Stop Screaming: A Christmas Story. It was smaller than I expected. I glanced through it, and there was definitely a screaming latke inside. I saw the familiar images that Educating Alice linked to. I started reading. I started laughing out loud. I was no longer tired and crabby.

This book has a brilliant lead: "This story ends in someone's mouth, but it begins in a village more or less covered in snow." It is filled with classic Snicket-isms, most notably: "...a word that here means..." It features a latke that is sick to death of being Christmas-ized, like when the Christmas lights suggest, "So you're basically hash browns. Maybe you can be served alongside a Christmas ham," or when the candy cane says, "Someone should write a Christmas carol about you." I would have sprayed my milk out my nose if I'd been drinking any when the cute little pine tree says, "But different things can often blend together. Let me tell you a funny story about pagan rituals."

Anne at Book Buds has a great review. Her final paragraph answers the question, "Is this really a kids' book?" Check it out. I totally agree with her.

So I was feeling much better after I read The Latke. (And even better when I learned that I had finally discovered a book BEFORE Franki!) Then I opened the package that came in the mail and found another great laugh (yes, sigh, recommended by Franki):

Chester
by Melanie Watt (of Scaredy Squirrel fame)
Kids Can Press, 2007

Our cat is 20 years old. She has been reduced to the essence of cat by her age: skeleton, fur, loud demanding yowl, and attitude. If she were fat and had access to a red marker, she would be Chester. Poor Melanie! She's just trying to write a story about a mouse who lives in the country, but Chester keeps doodling all over her work, and changing it to suit himself, and to make himself the star of the story. When Melanie demands that he hand over the marker and apologize before the count of three, Chester has the nerve to assume position and "play the cello" instead! I'm pretty sure that's the kitty version of thumbing one's nose (since cats don't have opposed thumbs, after all). It all works out in the end. Mostly for Melanie and the mouse, but that's fair, since Chester got his all the way through the book. (The end is whence the tutu in the post title, in case you were wondering about that.)

So there you have it. A couple of sure-fire mood elevators. Take two and call me in the morning. Tell me how hard you laughed and how much better you felt for reading them!