Showing posts with label humor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label humor. Show all posts

Monday, February 16, 2015

Almost Super

My 9 year-old-son read Marion Jensen's Almost Super a few weeks ago--and reread it again the next day he liked it so much. So I figured I should probably see what the appeal was, and after reading, I have to say I get it.

Almost SuperJensen's book has a lot of humor, heart, and action, and if not everything is plausible, well, it's a super hero story.

In the Bailey family, everyone over the age of twelve gets their super power on February 29th at 4:23 p.m. So Rafter and Benny are eagerly awaiting the powers that they'll use to fight their arch-enemies, the Johnsons. But when the pivotal time comes and goes, they discover that their powers are, respectively, the ability to light a match on polyester, and turning an innie belly button into an outie. (Incidentally, my kids and I had a hilarious dinner-time discussion trying to come up with our own useless super-hero abilities).

All this would be bad enough, but now they have to face Juanita Johnson at school. But when a chance conversation with Juanita reveals that the Johnsons think *they* are the super-heroes and the Baileys are the villains, and that an unknown enemy might be using their long-time enmity to conceal a real villainous plot, Rafter discovers that they have a chance to be . . . almost super.

This really is a fun book: the story rockets along and the characters are funny and likeable. (If some of the adults are a little dense, that just lets the kids shine more). A great book for younger readers.

Thursday, December 11, 2014

The Good, The Bad, and the Emus

The Good, the Bad, and the Emus (Meg Lanslow, #17) I think I enjoyed Meg's 17th adventure a little more than the previous one, though this still isn't quite up to par with some of the first books. What elevates this one is a new concern for complicated family relationships: Meg's grandfather has hired a PI to find Meg's grandmother (they lost touch while he was doing research in Ecuador). The PI succeeds--only to find that Meg's grandmother has been murdered a few months previously. He agrees to investigate further, and solicits Meg's help dealing with the reclusive cousin who lived with her grandmother.

At the same time, her grandfather decides to act on the feral emu problem in rural Virginia, rounding up a crew to capture the emus and move them to a wildlife sanctuary. While the effort is earnest, it serves as the ideal cover for Meg's exploration. But when someone attempts to poison her grandfather *and* the reclusive cousin, Annabelle, Meg begins to think that just maybe the two cases are somehow connected.

There was a lot I liked about this novel: Andrews' light touch with humor, interesting new characters (esp. Annabelle), and the new wrinkle in Meg's family life. I figured out both the major plot twist and the murderer, but that didn't necessarily diminish my enjoyment (I liked being right).

What I didn't love: I fell in love with Michael in the first two books when Meg did, and I feel like he's been relegated to a babysitter in the last couple of books since the birth of their twins. I realize that there wasn't a huge place for him in the story, but I miss their interactions. And the twins themselves--I can't figure out how they're so bright, and yet their diction isn't much better than my 2 year old's. It's not an egregious problem, but it does pull me out of the story a little every time it happens.

Thursday, July 10, 2014

The End or Something Like It

The End or Something Like That Ann Dee Ellis' latest novel, The End or Something Like It, is deceptively simple. The opening chapters are just a single sentence apiece. And the voice (an authentic, quirky, 14-year-old named Emmy who's mourning the death of her best friend Kim the year before) is sometimes repetitive, sometimes simple, sometimes abrupt.

But for all that there's a strangely lyrical quality about the voice. I found Emmy wholly believable as a character in mourning. At the same time, despite the potentially depressing topic, the book itself isn't depressing: it's much more a believable portrait of friendship between two young women, and Emmy's recollections of Kim are bitter-sweet, funny (often), off-beat, and charming. The story switches between the present and the past (when Kim is still alive), as Emmy struggles with Kim's acceptance of her death and Kim's insistence that Emmy try to contact her after she dies.

As Emmy puts it, "Turns out I suck at talking to dead people."

Only she doesn't. She just sucks at talking to Kim. Other dead people--including her ex-earth sciences teacher, Mrs. Homeyer--she has no trouble seeing.

As the novel weaves back and forth between past and present, readers get a glimpse into Emmy's relationship with Kim (and understanding as to why Emmy feels so much guilt about her death) and Emmy's gradual re-emergence from a sort of mourning cocoon.

I thought it was lovely.

It's possible that I'm biased because I knew Ann Dee in high school--but I don't think so. I've read other books by people I know and like that I didn't like so well. I read this in an afternoon and I keep thinking about it.

Also, I'm fairly certain Mrs. Homeyer was modeled after a real teacher at the junior high we both attended (of the same name). I'm 90% sure I had to do those same word searches. (But then, my memories of some aspects of junior high are pretty fuzzy).

Wednesday, June 11, 2014

Inside Job

Inside Job Connie Willis is one of my favorite sci-fi authors: her To Say Nothing of the Dog is one of my favorite books. So I was thrilled to see a book I hadn't read of hers. And while I would agree with other reviewers that this isn't her best, it was still a fun, enjoyable read.

Rob owns and writes for the Jaundiced Eye, a professional debunking magazine. When his lovely assistant (and sole employee) Kildy brings him reports of a new psychic, he's not exactly interested--the psychics are all the same. But when Kildy drags him to a session, he's intrigued despite himself: the psychic, Ariaura, appears to be channeling one of Rob's literary icons--H.L. Mencken. And Ariaura doesn't appear to know she's doing it. Soon, Rob is convinced that Ariaura isn't clever enough to pull this off on her own--it has to have been an inside job. But who is helping her?

This was a clever combination, part mystery, part romance. And if I saw the ending coming, I still enjoyed the ride.