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On the Wings of Heroes by Richard Peck. Dial Books (a member of Penguin Group, Inc.). $16.99.

Yeah, well. What kind of review site would this be without a little Richard Peck once in a while anyway?

Richard Peck is such an old-fashioned guy. Go through his books and look what you find. Nasty bullies getting their due. Pranks. Upright citizens. Heroes. Work that makes a boy strong. And wise old people who dole out necessary advice and make the rest of us look weak in comparison. It takes a couple heaping helpfuls of nostalgia to write a Richard Peck book, and as far as I can figure it, nostalgia falls into two distinct categories: Good Nostalgia and Bad Nostalgia. Bad Nostalgia bores the socks off its readers. It wallows too deeply in the idea of how great things used to be and would rather eat its own shoes than allow that there might be some pretty great things going on right now. Good Nostalgia’s a different beast entirely. It conjures up the past, transplanting its readers to another time. A time where there was good and there was bad, but most of all there was just a world that wasn't too unlike our own. “On the Wings of Heroes” is rife with Good Nostalgia. It bears the flaws of its genre without apology, but is a pretty good book in the end anyway.

Everyone has to have a hero. For Davy it’s his older brother Bill. It’s World War II and Bill’s off to fight in a handsome B-17, carrying with him his small town’s good wishes. Life before and during the war couldn’t be more different. Before the war Davy spent a lot of time with his best friend Scooter, trying out their new bikes, enjoying Halloween, and playing in the warm summer nights. During is different. Now the kids are doing regular collections for the war effort. Bill's been sent off to fight and Davy's avoiding the malevolent (not to say violent) Beverly C. while dealing with family worries to boot. With a great cast of kooky characters and superb writing, a book that could have been yet another dull historical novel distinguishes itself. A great slice from the past.

A co-worker of mine is a gigantic Richard Peck fan. She’s read his books cover to cover and then back again. As such, she’s probably his biggest critic. After going through “Heroes”, she found she was not entirely impressed. Richard Peck lite, she called it. She even pointed out certain elements to me. The dirty bully girl in the book? Wasn’t she in a couple of his stories before? Ditto the ancient teacher idea, the pranks, and even the Midwestern setting. To her eyes, he’s done it all before and he’s done it better. Be that as it may, I am not a fan of her caliber. I read “A Long Way From Chicago” and “A Year Down Yonder” and enjoyed them just fine. Then I read “The Teacher’s Funeral” and “Here Lies the Librarian” and was disappointed. So for me, “On the Wings of Heroes” represents a return to form. Sure Peck is reusing some old tropes and techniques. Still, if you take the book in and of itself and don’t compare it to his past or future work, I think it stands rather nicely all on its own. It may not garner the biggest awards out there, but there’s no doubt in my mind that it’ll have its fans.

Peck’s writing makes the whole enterprise well worth a peek anyway. First of all, he's funny, which is of vast unrecognized importance. Like any kid assigned this in school, I actually wasn't too keen on reading, "On the Wings of Heroes." Historical fiction is fine and all but I shy away from it when I can. So it's nice to get sucked into novel, especially if it's against your will. The individual sentences get all evocative and suggestions are made of future events. For example, whenever Davy’s father hears of an injustice or a wrong, we hear that, “something coiled in him again.” That “something” never uncoils in this book, but I suspect that it probably happens long after this particular story is over.

Of course, Peck writes of a white white world. If you’re looking for a little diversity, he’s not your man. It doesn’t usually occur to me when I read him, but this book in particular shows just how pale as newly fallen snow Peck’s universe is. He doesn’t deal with racism or social injustice much at all. So when the DAR gets a mention, it sticks out more for me than it might if there was a single African-American character living in this Midwestern American town. Those of you who would prefer to read a book with a little more racial complexity would do well to look to another novel.

Will kids read it? Not if you don’t sell it to them. Look, if a kid is standing in front of a row of books and one book has the title, “Alcatraz and the Evil Librarians” and the other book reads, “On the Wings of Heroes” which book is the kid going to pick up first? I mean some will read this book and love it, no question. It sounds odd to say, but the book this reminded me the most of was Ray Bradbury’s, “Dandelion Wine”. Know me and know my love of “Dandelion Wine” and you’ll see how grand a compliment this really is. It doesn’t have Bradbury’s dark surreal undercurrents, of course, but there’s a lot of joy here and a lot of familiar ideas. Plus, other books crop up in the old memory as well, like the moment when the root beer brewing in the basement explodes like a fourteen gun salute. It reminded me of nothing so much as the brewing that goes on in that great 30s novel, “Cheaper by the Dozen”. Though it shouldn't be confused with an accurate representation of the past in all respects, there's a lot in Peck's novel to enjoy. It has the ability to make children nostalgic for a time they will never know. Recommended.

Notes on the Cover: Okay. Dial, I know what you were going for here and I can’t blame you. And this jacket image is entirely faithful to the book, no question. You’re going for a nice 40s look, and who can blame you? So I’m giving you a pass on this one. Personally, I think this kind of image draws a very specific kind of reader. But let’s be honest here. Peck has written a very specific kind of book, so the packaging is faithful to product. Plus, this was done by Chuck Pyle? That wouldn’t happen to be the grandson of Howard Pyle, would it? Well his bio ain’t saying but it wouldn’t be a completely peculiar assumption to make. I wouldn't have commissioned it, but I can see why you did.

First Lines: "Before the War the evenings lingered longer, and it was always summer when it wasn't Halloween, or Christmas."

Previously Reviewed By: BookMoot, the Books for Kids Blog, Emily Reads and the BCCLS Mock Awards.

Lissy's Friends, written and illustrated by Grace Lin. Viking (a division of Penguin Young Readers Group). $15.99

Origami. I could never do origami. As a kid it didn’t matter if you wanted me to fold a crane, a frog, or a paper hat. For all the logic involved, origami was equal in difficulty to playing the accordion so I never really took to it as a result. It’s the old if-you-can’t-do-something-it-must-not-be-worth-doing argument. What I did like to do, though, was play with inanimate objects and give them distinct personalities. Not your usual toys and dolls, necessarily. I’d have sweeping romances involving crayons and the coloring pages they were in love with. Epic battles and court intrigue could come out of a deck of playing cards (particularly if the Jacks looked nefarious and cruel). So as it is, I found “Lissy’s Friends,” by Grace Lin to be a perfect intersection of something I loathed as a kid and something I loved. Where does that leave the book? Firmly in the latter category, I’m happy to report.

Being the new girl in school can be infinitely lonely. Lissy’s kind of a solitary gal to begin with and when no one talks to her or sits with her at lunchtime, she creates a little paper crane out of a nearby lunch menu. To her delight, the crane comes alive and Lissy has literally “made” a friend. When her mother (misunderstanding, naturally) says that she’s sure that Lissy will make lots of friends the next day, her daughter guarantees that this will be true. Now she swamped in wonderful friends of every shape and size, “And Lissy was never alone.” Unfortunately, when a ride on the merry-go-round in a stiff breeze sends her companions heavenward, this moment of despair is quickly alleviated by a girl like Lissy who’s interested in her origami skills. Now Lissy has human friends by her side while her former companions are now taking a bit of café au lait on the banks of Paree.

There is a moment in this book where Lin could have lost her readers entirely (at least her grown-up ones) had her writing been heavy-handed or icky sweet. It is when Lissy’s first origami creature, the paper crane, it comes to life in her hands. Some artist/illustrators would have imbued this moment with a great deal of silliness. With Lin, however, the moment just hangs there. For some reason, it makes perfect sense; not goofy or sentimental. Just a magical little occurrence that could be real or the figment of a lonely little girl’s imagination. Even the happy ending where the once missing origami friends write Lissy a missive from Paris comes across as more touching than cutesy. I also loved that in Lissy’s mind, her animals (with the exception of the original little stork) become the size of their real-life equivalents. The giraffe and elephant tower above Lissy, while the tiny mouse and crab (origami crabs?) scuttle beneath her feet.

Lin’s art is what I like to call deceptively simple. Clean pen-and-ink lines and supposedly simple human figures make up most of the scenes. But Lin has possibly outdone herself with this book. Lissy creates at least twenty different origami friends, and each one is made out of a different kind of paper. Their designs and colors never repeat twice. In one scene, Lissy and friends look out the window at some kids who are going to the nearby playground. Not only are the animals realistic looking origami critters, all folds and bends, but the curtains, floor, wallpaper, and Lissy’s shoes, pants, and jacket are ALL different colors and patterns as well! You’d think this sort of thing would hurt to look at or, at the very least, take in. Not the case. But what about when the animals disappear? Would that mean that the book becomes dull and less interesting? Not if you consider that the kids Lissy befriends by the end are all wearing their own distinctive patterns and colors. There were other little lovely details as well. The book takes place in the fall and feels particularly autumnal from scene to scene. I also loved Lissy’s “secret smile” she keeps when she thinks of the living little paper crane who is her first friend.

In the back of the book lie step-by-step instructions for creating your own paper cranes. They’re pretty straightforward, but be sure you have your origami skills well-sharpened when the child in your life demands a crane just like the one in the book. When people ask me at my library for books about making friends, I think I’ll take them at their word from here on in. The making doesn’t happen to be a problem. It’s the keeping that takes some work. A gentle, genuinely touching little tale.

On shelves May 17th.

Blog-Related Note: Grace Lin actually done went and dedicated this book to “my friends the blue rose girls.” That’s the first blog-related dedication I’ve seen to date.

Previous Blog Reviews: A Wrung Sponge

Emma-Jean Lazarus Fell Out of a Tree by Lauren Tarshis. Dial Books (a division of Penguin Young Readers Group). $16.99.

First and foremost I want to stop right now the temptation anyone may have to compare this book to "The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time". It ends here. “Emma-Jean Lazarus Fell Out of a Tree,” is a treat. A delight. An engaging romp, if you will, but it is NOT to be compared to Mark Haddon’s book, no matter how tempting a prospect. Let us consider this book entirely on its own merits and leave speculations regarding the main character’s mental state to the readers themselves. Newbie first-time author Lauren Tarshis has written a book with some serious buzz flitting about it. Memorable and supremely interesting, this is a book worth holding on to for a very long time.

She’s not like other girls, that Emma-Jean Lazarus. She doesn’t burst into tears every day in middle school or giggle about boys with her friends. Come to think of it, she doesn’t seem to have all that many friends to begin with. That’s okay, though. If Emma-Jean is anything, she’s comfortable being herself. That’s something Colleen Pomerantz would probably pay anything to be. When Emma-Jean finds Colleen sobbing in the girls’ bathroom (which is just as illogical as it is out of character) she vows to help Colleen out any way she can. Of course, that may mean some forgery here and there, but Emma-Jean is confident in her abilities. Now, however, she has mixed feelings towards her widowed mother falling for the nice Indian guy boarding with them, while at the same time learning that this whole “friendship” idea may not be as straightforward as all that. People don’t always make sense and the world is not always fair, but sometimes change can be good. Even if it's not entirely comfortable.

I’ll level with you here. I read this book roundabout a month ago. The thoughts that have percolated and popped in my noggin are not first-impressions or sudden flashes of inspiration. So as I picked this book up to review it, something strange occurred to me; I could remember everything in it perfectly. I could remember the plot, and the characters, and teensy tiny little details here and there. When you review a lot of children’s books, they all tend to run together after a while into a big old slurry blur. Not this book.

Part of Tarshis’ strength lies in her characters, of course. Emma-Jean isn’t emotional, but at the same time she isn’t so cold that the reader doesn't care for her. You warm to her instantly, even as she puzzles through the peculiarities of middle school interactions. I like that from page one you get a sense of Emma-Jean’s personality. “. . . crying was not a logical way to express one’s opposition to the seventh-grade science curriculum,” she thinks after two girls cry at having to dissect a sheep’s eyeball. As for Colleen, she was exactly the kind of person I could understand. “. . . Colleen was always thinking and worrying and obsessing about things.” Been there. Most of us have. It's just rare to see that feeling fleshed out so well into a living breathing person.

The writing, in and of itself, is subtle, but not so subtle that it won’t make for good discussions. For example, when Colleen decides not to get angry at Emma-Jean it reads, “She couldn’t be mad at Emma-Jean, because poor Emma-Jean didn’t understand anything about anything.” The heck she doesn’t! Emma-Jean is a uniquely skilled individual. When she wants to hook her teacher up with the man boarding with herself and her mother she knows how to drop a dinner invitation with a sly, “You could bring your boyfriend if you like,” to determine her teacher's relationship status. Descriptions pop out at the reader with a bit of intensity you wouldn’t expect off-hand. When Colleen feels terrible, the pink wall color, “made her feel like she was trapped inside an old dog’s ear.” Not just any dog, mind you. An old dog. Ick.

The assumption is going to pop up (hence the “Curious Incident” reference at the beginning of this review) somewhere suggesting that Emma-Jean has some mild form of autism. Yet the book never says that, and the book is, when you think about it, the only reference on the topic we have. I don’t think we can go about leaping to conclusions willy-nilly. Just because someone isn’t doesn’t act like everyone else, do we have to label them? When Emma-Jean explains why she doesn’t want any friends she simply says, “They are too complicated.” You don’t have to diagnose a person to agree with a statement like that.

Now I run a homeschooler bookgroup, and recently I’ve been taking the time to assess the readability of the books that come my way. For example, recently my kids and I read "Rules" by Cynthia Lord and we were just bowled over by how well that title works as a point of discussion. It engages the child readers so much so that everyone loves the book. So I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say that Tarshis ’ book does the same thing. It has that indefinable quality that makes the reader just want to pick up the title again and again and again. The ending is top notch (coming up with a quilt-related solution to one of Emma-Jean’s woes that gives me shivers to read), the beginning biting, and the middle engaging and endearing in turns. Recommended with a "yes, indeed" for kicks.

Notes on the Cover: As someone pointed out on this blog not too long ago, it does the book no favors. It’s not a terrible cover by any means. And you can even tie it into Emma-Jean’s pet bird, the trees she and her father loved, and the fabric that is eventually sewn onto her quilt. That said, this is not a kid-friendly cover. This is the kind of cover you put on an adult book of poetry (one that uses words like "thrush" and "entirety"). So it’s nothing against you, Dial, but when this pup comes out in paperback (and it will if it gets the attention it deserves) let us take into consideration the possibility of doing something just as classy but with a touch of child-friendliness to boot. Let us, to be blunt, make this book like like it’s worthy of its buzz.