2019 Contenders: The Parker Inheritance, by Varian Johnson

Candice Miller is not enthusiastic about spending the summer in Lambert, South Carolina, the small town where her grandmother used to live and work. It’s not just that her grandmother’s legacy as the first woman and the first African American to serve as City Manager was besmirched by a scandal, but Candice is also worried about present events in her more immediate family – her parents are divorcing, and she and her mother are in Lambert while Candice’s father fixes up their Atlanta house for sale. But when a mysterious letter leads Candice to dig deeper into the story behind her grandmother’s dismissal, the summer promises to get a whole lot more interesting. With the help of Brandon Jones, a book-loving neighbor from across the street, Candice learns about an ugly incident in the town’s history, and the reason that, years later, her grandmother thought that there might be treasure buried under the municipal tennis courts.

This book is not afraid to tackle some big issues, though it does so with a light touch. Candice and Brandon dig into the town’s history of segregation and racism, and readers get a front-row seat to a tennis match between teams from the town’s segregated high schools, and the violent aftermath. There are also present-day issues of bullying, LGBTQ rights, intolerance, and the way the past affects the present. It seems like a lot, and this book is packed pretty full of issues, but Johnson brings everything together into a cohesive whole. It’s timely, well-written, and entirely age-appropriate for middle-grade readers, without softening the harsh truth.

As a puzzle mystery, this book is a little less successful. The clues to the puzzle are all in the letter Candice finds among her grandmother’s belongings, but it’s unlikely that young readers (or even many adult readers) would be able to puzzle them out as Candice and Brandon do. There’s a reference to a mathematical concept that isn’t typically taught outside of calculus courses, plus certain mental leaps that aren’t immediately clear. Readers who want logic puzzles that they can work out along with the characters may be disappointed.

So, is this book a Newbery contender?  I think it’s a title worthy of discussion, at the very least. Will the weaknesses in the puzzle-novel conceit outweigh the strong writing, the well-defined and developed characters, the interpretation of theme, and the appropriateness of style present in this book? Only time will tell!

Published in March by Arthur A. Levine Books


Misti Tidman is the Collection Development Librarian for Youth Materials at the Mansfield/Richland County Public Library (Ohio). She is also one of the bloggers at Guessing Geisel.

Newbery Wayback Machine: From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler, by E. L. Konigsburg (1968)

Happy new year loyal Mockers!

In 2017 we will continue to focus on past Newbery winners. We will occasionally blog about current contenders, as the fancy strikes us, but we'll mainly stick to our travels in ye olde...

And today we go back to 1968. 1968 was a historic year. Apollo 8 orbited the moon, MLK and RFK were assassinated, Star Trek gave us the first interracial kiss on television, and, of course, From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler by E. L. Konigsburg won the Newbery Medal (a significant win, as Konigsburg was also a runner up that year for Jennifer, Hecate, Macbeth, William McKinley, and Me, Elizabeth, the only double honor in Newbery history.)

It's the story of twelve year old Claudia Kincaid. Seemingly disenfranchised by an unjust lack of respect/affection/attention in her family, she decides to run away from home. She chooses to recruit her nine year old brother Jamie to accompany her because they connect intellectually in a way she doesn't connect with her other siblings, and because Jamie is independently wealthy due to the fact he regularly hustles his classmates at cards, and they'll need cash for the plan to succeed. The plan, by the way, is to run away to the Metropolitan Museum of Art in nearby New York City, because if you're going to run away why not do it to the home of many of the most sophisticated works of art in the world? While living in the museum Claudia becomes fascinated by a sculpture of an angel that the Met acquired for a shockingly low price considering it may be the work of famous renaissance artist Michelangelo. Claudia makes it her mission to confirm the sculpture is by Michelangelo, a quest which eventually leads her and Jamie to the Connecticut home of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler, the eccentric patron of the arts who sold the angel to the Met, and her mixed-up files, an archive, organized in no discernible order other than what makes sense to Mrs. Frankweiler, of secrets, including the secrets of the angel: who sculpted it, how it came to be in her possession, and why she sold it.

This book was one of my favorites when I was a child, because I was enchanted by the ideas of 1. running away to a museum, and 2. having an archive in my home when I grew up. As an adult I still love museums, and imagining where I would sleep if I ran away to one. A few years ago I had the pleasure to visit the Met, and there were many fantastic places to spend the night if one were so inclined! I also have not one but two libraries in my home, and I live in a very narrow townhouse (a homeslice, if you will) so that's really saying something about living your dreams. I was excited, but anxious to re-read From the Mixed-Up Files as an adult. Would I find it as enchanting as I did when I was a child? The answer is yes, perhaps even more so.

From the Mixed-Up Files is a treat. It's a story that appeals to children. Children love stories about running away from home. It is known. It is exciting to think about what you would do and how you would survive without the care and supervision of your parent or guardian. It is particularly exciting to read about it in a book, and live vicariously through the characters, because actually running away from home is scary and dangerous. Claudia and Jamie, thoughtful and resourceful children, are likable, relatable characters. The narrative style - the book is told from the perspective of Mrs. Frankweiler who is writing to her lawyer, Saxonberg - lends the story an inclusive, conspiratorial tone, which is fun and mysterious. But its greatest strength lies in what the book is really about: the desire all people have to feel special.

It is revealed that Claudia felt compelled to run away from home, to live in a museum, to discover the truth about the angel sculpture, because she was missing something in her life. She felt ordinary, and she wanted to feel special instead. She wanted to have a secret, to keep safe inside her, to comfort her in the assurance she was extraordinary. And it is revealed that Mrs. Frankweiler, though an accomplished, if odd, person, is also missing something. She never had grandchildren despite secretly wanting them. At the end of the novel, both of them get what they need: Claudia learns the secrets of the angel, to keep as long as she likes, and the children adopt Mrs. Frankweiler as an unofficial grandmother, with plans to continually visit her. I thought the book was perhaps making a statement about what it was like to be a woman in 1960's America, feeling wrong or uncomfortable just being yourself, to always want something more, whether or not it's attainable, but the more I think about it, the more I feel that idea, that sensation, is universal and timeless.

From the Mixed-Up Files works as a think piece and a delightful piece of literature for children, making it, in my opinion, a modern classic. I think it truly earned its Newbery Medal, as well as its place in many people's hearts as a childhood favorite. It belongs on the shelves of any respectable library collection for children, and hopefully people will continue to discover and cherish it well into the future.

2016 Contenders: Nanny X Returns, by Madelyn Rosenberg

Ali, Jake, Eliza, and the rest of the gang from last year's Nanny X are back for another adventure. This time, a criminal known only as The Angler has insisted that a large sculpture of a fish be placed on the White House lawn. If this isn't done, "the nation's greatest treasures" could be in danger. The Nanny Action Patrol (N.A.P.) has been assigned to the case, and Nanny X (and her diaper bag full of secret devices) must stop The Angler, with the help of her young charges and their other friends.

Much like its predecessor, Nanny X Returns is fast-paced and very funny. One of my favorite things about it is its grasp of the Washington D.C. area; Madelyn Rosenberg lives in Arlington, Virginia, and it's clear that she knows the region inside and out. Through touches as small as what exhibits are on specific floors of the D.C. museums, the setting truly comes alive on each page.

I'm not entirely sure that some of the thematic elements are as neatly wrapped up as I'd like. Some of them, such as the incipient romantic feelings between Ali and her friend Stinky, may well be points Rosenberg is holding in reserve for another book. Others, I wished had been returned to in the last few pages -- Ali's worries about whether the N.A.P. has its doubts about Nanny X, as well as her desire to solve the mystery first, come into play repeatedly during the book, but sort of fizzle out at the end.

These questions, however, didn't much affect my enjoyment of the book. I was delighted to return to the world of Nanny X and her crew, and I do hope this isn't the last visit I'll get to pay there. I also hope this particular series finds its way into the hands of the many children that I firmly believe will enjoy it.

As for the Newbery, I highly doubt Nanny X Returns will appear there -- it's popular, not literary, and it's just not the kind of book to which the committees are sympathetic. I'm optimistic, however, that it will land on the shelves of many libraries, where the children who love quick-reading humor will be able to find it.


Publication in October through Holiday House

2015 Contenders: Under the Egg, by Laura Marx Fitzgerald

Theodora Tenpenny's life has fallen apart as Under the Egg opens. Her grandfather, Jack, has died in an accident -- and while this would be a tragedy under any circumstances, it's worse because Jack was the one responsible adult in the Tenpenny household. Now, with almost no remaining money, a mentally ill mother to care for, and a house that's falling down around her, Theo is just trying to keep her head above water.

When Theo finds that a painting her grandfather made conceals a different painting behind it -- a painting that may in fact be an incredibly valuable Raphael -- she embarks on an adventure to try and figure out what the painting is, how her grandfather acquired it, and whether it can help save her fracturing world. An unlikely new friend named Bodhi may be able to help her, but other people are interested in the painting and its mystery as well, including the police.

The reviews of Under the Egg have name-checked some of the best-loved mystery novels in American children's literature: From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler, The Westing Game, Chasing Vermeer. In many ways, the comparisons are deserving. I really liked the gently satirical character of Bodhi, and if Theo isn't the most original protagonist, she's not difficult to spend time with either. The mystery of the painting takes plenty of exciting twists and turns. The setting is richly realized also -- a present-day Manhattan in which Theo's family no longer has much of a place.

The ending, however, has drawn some criticism, and I think that criticism is valid. Booklist gave Under the Egg a starred review, but still noted that the ending wasn't "wholly satisfying"; School Library Journal also lamented the book's "all-too-convenient ending." Other reviewers were more kind (Betsy Bird loved, loved, loved it), but I'd side with the critics in this instance. The wrap-up of the plot requires coincidences of Dickensian proportions, and after all the hard work that went into setting up the mystery, I couldn't help but feel a little like I'd been cheated.

If you're the kind of reader who enjoys the journey more than the destination, Under the Egg may be one of the best books of the year for you. If you prefer your puzzle-boxes to have more strict rules, you'll likely feel differently. Under the Egg wouldn't make my list of the cream of 2014, but its real strengths mean that it will probably make such lists for other folks. I expect there to be a lot of discussion about Under the Egg between now and Newbery day.


Published in March by Dial/Penguin

2015 Contenders: Greenglass House, by Kate Milford

Despite the fact that his parents run an inn, Milo was expecting a nice, peaceful vacation.  After all, the week of Christmas is usually not a busy time at Greenglass House.  But then, on the first morning of the holiday break, the guests just start coming . . . and coming . . . and coming.  Pretty soon, the inn is feeling much too full for Milo’s comfort.  His parents even ask their part-time cook to come up and help.  When her daughter Meddy, a girl just about Milo’s age, attempts to get him to talk to her, Milo is feeling disgruntled and tries to brush her off.  But Meddy won’t be brushed off – she’s sure that these people are all at the inn for a reason, and she and Milo come up with a way to investigate while appearing to be playing an innocuous role-playing game.  They soon discover that the guests are hiding more than one secret between them.  Some of the guests seem to know each other, though Milo wouldn’t call them friends.  Seemingly unimportant articles go missing from some of the guests’ rooms, and Milo hears the occasional sneaky set of footsteps on the creaky staircase, signaling that someone is where they are not supposed to be.  All the secrets and mysteries center on Greenglass House itself – and Milo’s home, where he has lived all his life – eaten, slept, done homework, goofed off – is suddenly much more fascinating and mysterious.  Is a smuggler’s treasure hidden somewhere in the house?  Can Milo and Meddy find it first?

This book rises to excellence in several different ways.  The setting is the first thing that grabs you: a hilltop inn, accessible by inclined railway from the waterfront of the Skidwrack River, frequented by smugglers of various unlikely items (flower bulbs and fountain pens, for instance).  Milo’s world is approximately contemporary to ours and shares some things (Christmas, the War of 1812) while others are charmingly different.  These differences appear as grace notes throughout the story, never piled on too heavily in one place.  Populating that setting are the characters.  The guests at the inn start out as quirky caricatures, but blossom and develop as the story rolls on.  And of course Milo, as main character, has plenty going on.  For one thing, he’s adopted and of Chinese descent, so there’s an undercurrent of him wondering about his birth family and heritage, while still loving his adoptive parents.  This adds depth to the story without ever overpowering the main plot.  Milo is also the sort of kid who values routine and gets agitated when things do not go according to plan, and much of his character development involves him being stretched in new directions by unforeseen circumstances.

 In terms of plot, this book delivers a good mix of coziness and adventure – there is exploration of the various nooks and crannies, hot chocolate and scheming by the Christmas tree, and covert investigation with the risk of discovery at any moment.  One thing I really appreciated about this book is how Milo and Meddy’s adventures feel like adventures while still being authentic kid experiences, things that are not out of character or impossible for a couple of kids in a large house full of strange adults.  As an added bonus, there are stories within the story as Milo, prompted by an old book lent to him by one of the guests, encourages all of the visitors to share stories in the evening.  Milo hopes that the stories they share will reveal their secretive reasons for staying at Greenglass House, and many times they do, enriching the book and helping bring all of the plot elements together in the end.

I found a lot to like in this book, and not much to criticize, probably because I’m the sort of reader who likes cozy mysteries in old houses with quirky characters and elements that feel a little bit like fantasy at times.  Another reader might find that the pacing lags at the points where the guests are telling their stories, but this didn’t bother me at all.  I could mention that Milo’s parents are arguably not as well-developed as some of the other secondary characters, but not everyone has to be quirky, and their main role is to provide stability for Milo (while also being preoccupied enough with the running of the inn to let him do his own thing without too much interference).  Is this book a Newbery contender?  Possibly.  This is a particularly strong year for middle-grade fiction, and mystery is a genre that rarely gets a lot of acclaim.  However, I think it’s earned a spot at the front of the pack, at least.

Publication in August by Clarion Books.

*****

Today's guest reviewer is Misti Tidman, Children's Librarian at the Licking County Library System (Ohio).  She is a fellow 2014 Morris Seminar participant, and blogs at Kid Lit Geek.

2015 Contenders: The Spy Catchers of Maple Hill, by Megan Frazer Blakemore

Hazel Kaplansky lives in Maple Hill, Vermont, at the height of the McCarthy era. Rumors are swirling that the local factory has been infiltrated by Communists, and a government investigation is underway. Since Hazel aspires to be a famous detective, she figures this is the perfect time to put her deductive skills into action. With the help of Samuel Butler, a new boy in town who may be hiding secrets of his own, Hazel sets out to get to the bottom of the nefarious communist plot, which she believes is centered around the town gravedigger.

Hazel is very clear about who she aspires to be like: Nancy Drew, Trixie Belden, the Hardy Boys. Many readers will likely see connections to Harriet the Spy as well, given Hazel's propensity for writing down everything about the members of her community in her notebook. I'll confess, however, that the character Hazel reminded me most of was the titular protagonist of Stephan Pastis' Timmy Failure books. Like Timmy, Hazel believes she is a brilliant sleuth; also like Timmy, Hazel consistently misreads situations, jumps to ridiculous conclusions, and ignores any evidence that doesn't fit her theories. The difference is that Timmy's (mis)adventures are played for laughs, while Hazel's take place in a deadly serious milieu of Cold War paranoia and small town nastiness.

Megan Frazer Blakemore displays the same love of layered mysteries and hidden secrets in The Spy Catchers of Maple Hill that she did in last year's The Water Castle. Spy Catchers, however, contains no supernatural or speculative fiction elements, and I think because of that -- and because the ending is much more straightforward than that of The Water Castle -- it feels very different tonally.

Ah, that ending. (Spoiler alert!) I'm just not that sold on the last fifty or so pages of this book. Everybody's secrets finally come out, but the manner felt more than a little overwrought to me. That Samuel's father never had a funeral seems odd to me, and that no one would tell Samuel that they were finally going to have one -- after everyone has been so concerned about his "fragility" for the whole book -- just doesn't feel plausible. Also, why does the gravedigger, Mr. Jones, disappear at the end of the book? It feels weirdly unmotivated, especially given his reasons for returning to Maple Hill in the first place.

The Spy Catchers of Maple Hill was a pleasant enough read, and I think it might well find more child readers than The Water Castle, given its more "traditional" plot. However, I think we already have several more solid Newbery contenders for this year.


Publication in May by Bloomsbury Children's Books / MacMillan

2014 Contenders: Escape from Mr. Lemoncello's Library, by Chris Grabenstein

Luigi Lemoncello is the most famous game designer in the world, and twelve-year-old Kyle Keeley is one of his biggest fans. So when Kyle finds out that the town's new library has been funded and designed by Mr. Lemoncello, he's excited. When it turns out that the twelve winners of a school essay contest will be invited to a lock-in at the library before it even opens -- and that, against all odds, he's one of the winners -- he's ecstatic. However, the lock-in is only the beginning. The first one of the children to solve the puzzle of the library itself and figure out the secret exit will win the grandest prize of all, and Kyle is determined to beat the game.

Escape from Mr. Lemoncello's Library owes something to Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, and quite a bit to The Westing Game, both titles that are explicitly referenced in the book. It also bears a resemblance to a more recent novel, The Puzzling World of Winston Breen, with its engaging cast of juvenile puzzle-solvers and seemingly inscrutable clues. However, the cleverness of the central conceit -- how do we get out of this building? -- is original enough to ensure that Escape doesn't read like a mere photocopy or homage.

As much as Escape is a mystery, it's also a love letter to libraries, books, and reading. The descriptions of the new library are filled with unabashed affection. Dozens upon dozens of children's literature titles new and old are referenced -- at times, Mr. Lemoncello's dialogue seems to consist of little else. And a large part of the story is not only about solving the mystery, but about the way that Kyle, who loves games of all kinds, but isn't much of a reader, comes to appreciate the joy of books.

The mystery and its associated puzzles are expertly designed and presented. The few quibbles that I had with the novel largely had to do with the moments when I felt like the subtext (books! reading!) was overshadowing the main narrative. Some of our longtime readers might remember from my discussion of Okay for Now that I'm very leery of authors overtly extolling the virtues of books, and in a few instances, Escape pushed that particular button of mine.

It wasn't enough, though, to really keep me from enjoying Escape. I don't think it's on the same level as The Real Boy, but I think it's firmly in the next tier of contenders. I wouldn't go so far as to predict an Honor for it, but I can tell you that, if it is recognized by the committee on Newbery Day 2014, I won't be at all surprised.


Published in June by Random House

2014 Contenders: One Came Home, by Amy Timberlake

“People do not give it credence that a 14-year-old girl could leave home and go off in the wintertime to avenge her father’s blood but it did not seem so strange then, although I will say it did not happen every day. I was just 14 years of age when a coward going by the name of Tom Chaney shot my father down in Fort Smith, Arkansas, and robbed him of his life and his horse and $150 in cash money plus two California gold pieces that he carried in his trouser band.” -Charles Portis, True Grit

"So it comes to this, I remember thinking on Wednesday, June 7, 1871. The date sticks in my mind because it was the day of my sister's first funeral and I knew it wasn't her last - which is why I left. That's the long and short of it." -Amy Timberlake, One Came Home

It has been an unusually eventful springtime in Placid, Wisconsin. A tremendous flock of passenger pigeons has nested in the woods nearby, bringing business and strangers to town. When the pigeons are gone, so is Georgie Burkhardt's sister Agatha - run off with some shady pigeoners and maybe dead. A body has been found in the woods, anyway, and it was wrapped in part of Agatha's dress. Georgie isn't ready to believe the worst, though, so she grabs her Springfield single shot and her copy of The Prairie Traveler: A Hand-Book for Overland Expeditions and sets off on her sister's trail. 


Like her closest literary kin, True Grit's Mattie Ross, thirteen-year-old Georgie's voice is delightfully strong and distinct. She is plainspoken, practical, and often quick-tempered, covering up her adolescent uncertainty with bluff and bravado (this is especially effective when we are privy to the dissonance between Mattie's thoughts and her words). Timberlake doesn't fall into the common trap of making her wiser than her years, though. Mattie has loads of courage and astonishing aim with a rifle, but she has no idea how to ride a horse or plan a trip. More crucially, she doesn't know when to keep her mouth shut. In short, she's thirteen.

Timberlake is an impressive sentence-level prose stylist. Describing a cave, she has Georgie say, "There's no pretending a cave is a proper room - it's the belly of the whale, the innards of a clam, a bubble, a rock-hard belch. Everything is poured out and dried sideways or upside down." One of the difficulties of first-person narration is that all the information about setting has to come from the narrator's point-of-view. I've read a lot of books where the landscape description sounds all wrong coming from the narrator's mouth. That's not the case here - Georgie's descriptions strike just the right balance between lyrical and down-to-earth. They also give the impression that she's more poetic than she imagines herself to be, which adds depth to the character.

Where One Came Home falters is in the pacing, and I think that may stem from the disconnect between the ostensible plot and the real story of the book. On the surface, it's a book about a missing sister. In reality, (though there is plenty of action) the emotional center of the book is Georgie's inner journey. After the resolution of that thread (and it resolves beautifully), the book feels finished and the final chapters are anticlimactic. The resolution of Agatha's story almost feels like an afterthought.

This is a strong, strong book, though, with a strong, strong heroine - and (like True Grit) it doesn't require a love interest to keep it afloat.

Published in January 2013 by Random House

The Winner's Circle: The Westing Game, by Ellen Raskin (1979)

The Westing Game is an odd Newbery, one that exists as a kind of anomaly in the world of children's literature. Its genre, a sort of ensemble-cast mystery, bears much more resemblance to certain Agatha Christie novels than to any of its predecessors in juvenile fiction. Similarly, although there have been much-loved children's books since then that have elements of seemingly inscrutable mystery (When You Reach Me, The Puzzling World of Winston Breen) or that tie together huge casts of characters (Harry Potter, Criss-Cross), it's hard for me to think of one that really attempts anything analogous to The Westing Game.

I didn't encounter The Westing Game as a child, though it won the Newbery only a decade or so before the peak of my middle-grade fiction reading years. Reading it as an adult, I found it easier to admire than to like. The plotting is every bit as deft and intricate as its reputation would indicate; I've read precious few books for any age level that were as careful in their construction. But it felt empty somehow; though the characters were well-rounded, I had a very hard time connecting with them emotionally. It seemed like, given that there were sixteen choices, I should have been able to pick someone that I wanted to win the game. And Samuel Westing himself never fully snapped into focus for me; he seemed more like a semi-benevolent Jigsaw -- a plot device, rather than a real character.

Indeed, the tone of the book -- its full-on embrace of a rose-colored American Dream, its sentimental patriotism, its eulogizing of stock-market capitalism -- seems out of step with the post-9/11, Great Recession-scarred world of today. Its hero is the character who eventually becomes a lawyer, an MBA, and, it's hinted, the CEO of a large corporation, and yet never shares the answer to the game with anyone, not even her eventual spouse (who, it should be added, also played the game). I have a feeling that this isn't the facet of the book that most people who look back at it fondly are remembering -- and maybe I'm letting my personal views overly shape my reading of the novel -- but I found its moral center genuinely uncomfortable.

Perhaps too, I'm simply not the reader for this book. As I've mentioned before, I'm in general a character and setting reader rather than a plot reader, and so I'm in less of a place to appreciate the (genuine) merits of The Westing Game than someone else might be. It reached #9 on Betsy Bird's latest top 100 children's books poll, so there is obviously a large cadre of readers who are suitably impressed by Ellen Raskin's novel.

And, with all of that said, The Westing Game certainly wasn't a bad Newbery choice, even though its year was very crowded. The only Honor book was The Great Gilly Hopkins, by Katherine Paterson (#63 on Betsy's last poll) -- which means that the committee couldn't find room for Sideways Stories from Wayside School, by Louis Sachar; Anastasia Krupnik, by Lois Lowry; or A Swiftly Tilting Planet, by Madeline L'Engle. I probably would have chosen Sideways Stories, but I recognize that The Westing Game does what it does very well indeed, even if it wasn't a book for me.

2013 Contenders: Hunter Moran Saves the Universe, by Patricia Reilly Giff

The idea of children stumbling across a diabolical plan is one that's had special resonance through the years. From Treasure Island to this year's Liar & Spy, children's literature is full of youthful characters who have uncovered -- or at least, believe they have uncovered -- some kind of dastardly plot, something that they must prevent in order to Save The Day.

Hunter Moran is such a child. By piecing together garbled telephone conversations, mysterious notes, and other sundry clues, he and his twin brother Zack have become convinced that the local dentist, Dr. Diglio, is scheming to detonate a bomb and destroy the town. It thus falls to them to stop him, while trying to stay out of trouble at home, keep an eye on their five-year-old brother, Steadman, and help prepare for the yearly festival, Tinwitty Day.

It's certainly a promising setup, and parts of Hunter Moran Saves the Universe are suitably madcap, living up to the idea. I liked Hunter's first-person narration. However -- and this is a criticism I rarely make -- the book simply isn't long enough.

It's barely 125 pages, and yet, in addition to everything else I've mentioned, it shoehorns in three additional Moran siblings, an attempt to hack their dad's computer, an awkward "love interest" subplot, a sketchy greengrocer, Zack's cello career, an annoying dog, a priest with a green thumb, and several other things I've probably forgotten. In order to hit all the points, the book maintains a frenetic pace, skimping on detail, and throwing characters at the reader so quickly that I had difficulty keeping track of them all. Some of the plot threads, such as the twins' mock funeral for Zack's sub-par report card, never really get a resolution at all, and some of those that do rely heavily on Steadman's near-superhuman ability to be seemingly everywhere at once.

I wanted to enjoy Hunter Moran, especially since it's by Patricia Reilly Giff, a two-time Newbery Honor medalist (Lily's Crossing, 1998; Pictures of Hollis Woods, 2003), and a major figure in American children's lit. But I think there's just not enough of it to make it successful, and I would be highly surprised if it were to earn serious consideration from the Newbery committee.


Publication in September through Holiday House.

2013 Contenders: Liar & Spy, by Rebecca Stead

One of the first things I said to Rachael after picking up Liar & Spy was, "You know, I don't think you could mistake a Rebecca Stead novel for one by anyone else." Few children's authors working today have as distinctive a voice and tone. She combines a deep fondness for her urban NYC settings with a keen observational eye, a sense of mystery, and a spare prose style with an intense respect for white space. It's equal parts Emily Cheney Neville, Brian Selznick, and Ernest Hemingway, and it's utterly lovely.

Liar & Spy is the story of Georges, a seventh-grader who's been forced to move out of his childhood home and into an apartment building a few blocks away. There he meets Safer, an unusual boy who runs the Spy Club, and Candy, Safer's precocious sister. The building seems to be full of secrets, and Georges' story becomes more and more intertwined with those secrets. And does Georges have secrets of his own as well?

It's a complex story, told with exceptional skill and craft. Georges is a believable protagonist, and many of the minor characters are some of the most well-rounded that you'll see in a children's novel. The themes and images are rich enough to serve as subject matter for any number of college-level litcrit essays.

The only problem, if you want to call it that, is that the bar for Rebecca Stead novels is set almost impossibly high. I would opine that When You Reach Me was as close to a perfect book as children's literature has produced in at least the last decade, and Liar & Spy, for all its merits, isn't a perfect book. An astute reader could likely guess one of the main plot twists almost 100 pages before it happens. The book has one of those scenes where everyone gets together and hatches a plan...except that the reader doesn't get to know what the plan is, for no narrative reason other than to artificially induce some suspense. And readers with a real love of plot-driven action are much more likely to be dissatisfied by Liar & Spy than by its predecessor.

I don't think any of these are major problems; they're no more than the differences between a book that's a stone-cold classic (#11 in Betsy Bird's most recent top children's novels poll) and one that's merely very good. But I do believe that, in the competitive climate of 2012/13, they might be enough to keep Liar & Spy off the Newbery list (although I feel confident that it will make the Notables).

So no, I don't think Rebecca Stead is going to make it two Newbery-winning books in a row. What I do think is that Stead is one of the most important American children's authors currently writing, and that when she puts out her next book, I'll be first in line to read it.

2013 Contenders: Three Times Lucky, by Sheila Turnage

Three Times Lucky reads like a soap opera, and I mean that in the nicest possible way. It's a novel unafraid to go completely over the top, and one has to admire its courage. An orphan washed up in a hurricane, miraculously unharmed? Check. An eccentric man who can't remember his life before a car crash? Check. Kidnapping, robbery, blackmail, murder? Check, check, check, and check.

The result is a book that's almost compulsively readable. The pacing is excellent, and I found it difficult to put down. It was wild, crazy, thrilling, and any number of other book-jacket adjectives. I'm not generally all that interested in small-town books with an ensemble cast of "quirky" characters, but this one grabbed me and didn't let go, despite my reservations about such things.

The last chapter was a bit Now We're Going To Wrap Up All The Loose Ends for me, but I suppose by that point, the reader is just about ready to finally get all the answers. According to her blog, Sheila Turnage has a sequel set for publication next year, and I'm curious to see where she goes with these characters now that many of them (though not, interestingly, the heroine, Mo) have their mysterious backstories revealed.

I had one serious reservation about this book. It's set in a Tupelo Landing, which, though it's fictional, can be placed with some accuracy on a map of North Carolina, roughly between Winston-Salem and Greensboro. And yet, as far as I can tell, the only non-white character is Mr. Li, the karate instructor, who's a very minor figure in the book. I could possibly have missed something, but unless I did, this is a book set in small-town east-central North Carolina that doesn't have a single African-American character in it -- something so unlikely as to stagger the imagination. I noticed this on several occasions, and it stuck out like the proverbial sore thumb.

At any rate though, this is a good book, and one that I expect will attract kids. It's getting excellent reviews from other sources, and I'd keep my eye on it as the year goes on.

Publication in May through Dial Books for Young Readers / Penguin