Book Review: Quid Pro Quo

Quid Pro Quo by Vicki Grant is an amusing middle grade book with a great first line: "I started going to law school when I was ten years old." Cyril, now 14, is being raised by his young single mother who found bringing him to evening classes with her was easier (and cheaper) than lining up childcare. Through attending classes and quizzing his mother Andy for exams, he absorbs no small amount of law information.

When a stranger arrives at their home and begins living with them and has mysterious conversations with Andy out of hearing, Cyril realizes there are details of his mother's past that are unknown to him. When his mother disappears, he begins to investigate on his own to get to the bottom of what happened (he isn't interested in foster care, so he doesn't want to report her disappearance to the police).

There is adventure and intrigue (and some suspension of disbelief would be appropriate), but never did I doubt circumstances would be resolved positively. It's not a literary masterpiece, but it is a fun, amusing read. I suspect this book will appeal widely, and it would be just the book to grab the interest of a struggling reader; he or she can cheer on Cyril as he faces dangerous situations and manages to get to the bottom of the mystery.

(I was given a digital ARC from NetGalley and Orca Book Publishers in exchange for my honest opinion. I've used Amazon Affiliate links here; should you purchase through these links, I receive a small commission, at no extra cost to you.)

Book Review: Toaff's Way

Toaff's Way by Cynthia Voigt is a children's chapter book told from the point of view of a young squirrel. Toaff begins the story living inside a dead tree before it is knocked over in a storm. Toaff must then navigate the world on his own, choosing where to shelter and how to stockpile food for the inevitable winter. His situation and the cast of characters around him are always shifting.

The names chosen for the characters are worth a mention in this book. All the squirrels have names that end in 'f' -- Toaff, Criff, Nilf, Soaff, Mroof, Tzaaf, Pneef, and so on, and admittedly this made distinguishing among side characters more difficult than it needed to be. The cats are named Snake and Fox, which also seems to be asking for confusion.

The descriptions for houses, barns, even roads ran the gamut of either effectively showing how Toaff ordered his world or seeming forced and stilted. In fact, I still couldn't figure out who one of the predators towards the end was meant to be, even after the descriptions.

However, even with those criticisms, there were descriptions in the book I appreciated. As an example of how Toaff compartmentalizes his world, he shares, "Predator was a word with long dark wings and sharp talons, while prey was a quick little word, helpless as a mouse." And while Toaff tends to be simple in his desires (shelter, food, companionship), there is heartfelt longing expressed in the words, "He never had belonged here and he had always known it. He had just hoped he did, and wanted to."

The origin stories different animals share brought me amusement as they argued who was in charge; perhaps the sheep caused the lake to be formed, then "caught" a farmer driving by one night, convincing him to stay and serve them. Or maybe the dogs are running the show.

This book was an uneven read for me. I suspect younger readers would be less critical and be quicker to embrace the story (even as I genuinely enjoy children's books, I recognize I can be harder to please). Experiencing the book through a squirrel's perspective would lead to interesting reflections and conversations among readers, and I can imagine excellent writing prompts that could come out of a reading of this book as students can create a short story from the perspective of another animal: How would your goldfish view daily events? What goes through your dog's mind when he's watching out the window?

(I received a free digital ARC of this book from NetGalley in exchange for my honest review. The included Amazon links are affiliate links; should you be inclined to complete a purchase, these links only mean Amazon will give me a small percentage of the cost, at no additional expense to you.)

Book Review: The Dollar Kids

The Dollar Kids by Jennifer Richard Jacobson is a middle grade story about friendship, grief, and forgiveness. Lowen is a 12-year-old boy mourning the loss of his younger friend. Abe was constantly around, offering advice or friendly criticism as Lowen worked on his comic strips to the sound of his friend's constant babbling in the background. When Abe is shot, Lowen feels responsible and, as he won't admit why he feels this way to others, he is stuck with his blame with no one to come alongside and shoulder it with him and speak truth to him.

The Grovers, in an effort to reset the whole family, apply to purchase a $1 home in a small town that has struggled to survive since the mill closed. The Grovers gladly leave their city behind to start over when they are chosen as one of four families. The agreement for the $1 homes hinges on enough repairs being made before the end of the year.

Lowen has turned his back on art, as it's too raw. But throughout the book we get little snippets of comic strips as he uses that medium to process his grief. The illustrations are lovingly done and fit the text well.

Some of the plot points seemed forced -- the family has a litany of reasons for why they can't accomplish house repairs and the mom's success (or lack of it) in her pasty shop seems hot and cold. However, I was touched at the close of the book, and I did find truth in Lowen's struggle with how much to engage in forming new relationships when he sees himself as a bad friend to have.

I am a creative person. As such, I dabble in new hobbies and well remember the struggle of my first knitting attempt, or how long it took me to throw clay successfully on a wheel or to spin something that looked legitimately like yarn, I recall how my brain knew intellectually how it was supposed to come together even as my hands failed at the execution. The trick is to stick with it and not give up. I resonated with Lowen's observation about the essence of creating:

"To become good at something, you had to be willing to live through the maddening time when you don't have the skills, when you don't come anywhere close to what you can picture in your head. You try, you struggle, your performance stinks. You fail. A lot."

I think this is a solid book, even as I admit that I never fully entered the world.

(I received a free digital ARC of this book from NetGalley and Candlewick Press in exchange for my honest opinion. The included Amazon links are affiliate links; should you be inclined to complete a purchase, these links only mean Amazon will give me a small percentage of the cost, at no additional expense to you.)

Book Review: Welcoming the Stranger

Welcoming the Stranger: Justice, Compassion, & Truth in the Immigration Debate was originally published in 2009; a copy graces our bookshelves, but admittedly, I had not yet read it. However, when I saw they were re-releasing it with revised chapters, I happily moved the 2018 title to the top of my reading list.

Matthew Soerens and Jenny Yang are well poised to inform others on the immigration debate. They live in diverse neighborhoods and work at World Relief, a faith-based resettlement agency.

Soerens and Yang structured the book by first laying out the US immigration system. Then they examine immigration in the Bible through the lens of learning about God's heart on this issue and how Christians should respond. They thoroughly address common concerns as well as statistics to show the value of immigration. They offer possible solutions and challenges the church should consider as we live in a country where immigration divides people politically and socially.

The appendices offer practical support in the form of discussion questions, lists of ministries and organizations that serve refugees and immigrants, resources to get involved politically, and suggestions for further reading.

I found myself underlining swaths of this book. It is a timely resource, with the updated sections particularly relevant, and there is no shortage of concrete facts and footnoted materials. While this book is written from an evangelical standpoint, I believe others of different (or no) faith could see the value of this revised and updated text.

(I received a digital ARC from NetGalley and InterVarsity Press in exchange for my honest review. The included Amazon links are affiliate links; should you be inclined to complete a purchase, these links only mean Amazon will give me a small percentage of the cost, at no additional expense to you.)

Book Review: Raise Your Voice

Raise Your Voice: Why We Stay Silent and How to Speak Up by Kathy Khang is a thoughtful read perfectly situated to encourage others with practical guidelines for how to step up and speak out.

Khang repeatedly returns to the biblical story of Queen Esther as a lens to guide us in how to speak up when we find ourselves in a place of influence, even if taking a stand may be dangerous.

I love to read nonfiction titles, but I admit I find myself putting some authors on a level above me; the rest of us are down below, as we have less courage, less innate ability, less brilliance. They tell their story, but it ends there -- I don't necessarily find natural take-aways to implement in my own life because they are so superior to us mere mortals. Their foibles, if documented, seem to be conquered easily, never to be a stumbling block again.

However, Kathy Khang is real to me; she genuinely shows her process of learning to raise her voice, as well as times she chose not to and how those situations shaped her. Her words and experiences resonated with me. I am naturally non-confrontational and a people pleaser, so it was a powerful example to hear from someone who found her gender and her culture came with expectations for keeping the peace, and yet she was able to go beyond those expectations to learn to boldly stand up and speak out. Khang admits it didn't always turn out well, and at times she has had to admit she was wrong. All the more, those instances resonate with me, since speaking up can be a complicated process filled with hasty misjudgments and misunderstandings.

My copy is filled with highlights, as there were so many passages I want to return to. The sections detailing what to do before, during, and after speaking up are phenomenal. There are no shortage of opportunities to speak up on social media, and Khang's best practices there are relevant.

Khang doesn't sugarcoat what can change when you start raising your voice. She recognizes things can be uncomfortable, but she reminds us that, "Speaking up doesn't increase division. It brings injustice and sin to the forefront. Speaking up can be an avenue of truth and healing, which can be painful for you and your friends."

This was a valuable, well-written read.

(I was given a digital ARC copy from NetGalley and InterVarsity Press in exchange for my honest review. I've used Amazon Affiliate links here; should you purchase through these links, I receive a small commission, at no extra cost to you.)

ARC Book Review: Adequate Yearly Progress

I taught middle school and high school English for two years after college. I happened to become a statistic by leaving teaching early, although the reason I did was primarily because of a move out of state that would have meant I would have a third first year of teaching. I feared I would burn out with all the prep work required, particularly given the atmosphere of the public school environment was so different from what I had trained for and taught in previously. I worked in a relatively small district that boasted two highly ranked liberal arts colleges in town, with invested parents who were firmly behind teachers, and most students had some self-motivation to succeed. Then I moved to a larger city where the graduation rate was much lower and there were metal detectors in the schools. For my own mental preservation and in acknowledgment I would likely be over my head and unsuccessful, I stepped away.

I still have a fondness for stories that focus on teachers, so when I heard of the premise of Adequate Yearly Progress (Roxanna Elden), I picked up the book. Each chapter is told from the points of view of several teachers and administrators. Brae Hill Valley High School is located in the inner city and is receiving special focus from the new superintendent, who sends in a young consultant with more power than he deserves due to his limited classroom experience.

We get glimpses into the lives of the educators inside and out of the classroom. The cast of characters includes the coach more focused on winning football games, the earnest woman from Teach Corps who is convinced she knows better than seasoned teachers how to motivate and succeed, the English teacher who is a spoken-word poet outside of the classroom but struggles to be effective when her teenage students read more at an elementary level, the rigid math teacher who maintains a thin grasp on sanity with her plastic-sleeved binders, and the acronym-loving administrators who want numbers to improve but insist on less than helpful means that actually stand in the way of progress.

I was entertained by the book, seeing aspects of myself in different characters from my short time teaching and being able to resonate with struggles in the book. There's no one hero, as everyone is flawed, but that led to a genuine story and you find yourself rooting for (and against) specific characters. It feels tongue-in-cheek at points with the various caricatures, but that may be what helped me enjoy the story. And there are embedded truths that lead to genuine reflection on how there is a huge disparity in public schools in our country, based on socioeconomic status:

"Rich kids could mess up and still go on to college. They could commit crimes and still go on to become CEOs. They could cheat on their taxes, or defraud sick people, or run banks into the ground, and leave others to clean up their messes. Hell, they could even become president.
Meanwhile, one screw-up could transform a kid like Gerard Brown or O'Neal Rigby from a superstar into a big guy with a criminal record who did menial jobs and made authority figures nervous."

(I was given a digital ARC from NetGalley and Rivet Street Books in exchange for my honest review. The included Amazon links are affiliate links; should you be inclined to complete a purchase, these links only mean Amazon will give me a small percentage of the cost, at no additional expense to you.)

ARC Book Review: Nowhere Boy

I am behind on my book logs, but I had to recommend another title first. In May I joined NetGalley to read Advance Reader Copies of books before they're published in exchange for honest reviews (long story stort: Leif Enger's upcoming novel was my initial incentive, although there are so many great titles being published that it was no burden to browse).

As I was reflecting on categories that were most of interest to me, children's fiction was at the top of the list. I enjoy discovering picture books with my daughters, and with an advanced reader in my 7-year-old, I'm always looking for exceptional chapter books. Enter Nowhere Boy by Katherine Marsh. The cover alone is engaging and colorful. When I learned it involved an American boy and a Syrian boy crossing paths in Brussels, I began immediately.

Thirteen-year-old Max and his family are from the United States but have relocated to Belgium for a year. He's less than enthused about attending a school in French and isn't afraid to let his parents know his opinion. Ahmed is a 14-year-old Syrian refugee, fleeing the violence in Aleppo while grieving the loss of family members. Both boys are lost and struggling, just trying to survive their circumstances.

Each chapter alternate point of view, a style which works well for this format. When the boys meet and become friends, under the cover of secrecy, both slowly open up and begin to trust. A kindred friendship develops, and it is through Ahmed that Max begins to feel at home, connect with others, and have a cause that he feels strongly about.

The terror events that happened in Paris and Brussels are also set against the backdrop of this book, and it's a powerful, timely piece on what the experience of a refugee is like.

This is a little out of my daughter's league for subject matter (it would be more appropriate for upper elementary or middle school students), but I already know a couple families who would love this book. It's relevant and as I read it, I kept reflecting on how powerful this story is -- it is polished and researched and feels so real. Themes of justice and morality are addressed (particularly the tension of what we are called to do because it is right even if the laws don't condone it). There's suspense and action in the book that it's easy to stay engaged; I could envision a classroom doing a interdisciplinary unit on it.

Parts of the story are inspired by Albert Jonnart, a lawyer whose family harbored a Jewish boy during WWII (Max lives on Jonnart Street). They were turned in by neighbors and Albert went to prison for hiding the boy.

At the close of the book, there's a short Q&A with the author, which revealed how Katherine Marsh was able to write such a well-done, relevant book. We learn her family moved to Brussels for her husband's job as a journalist, and they rented a home on Jonnart Street. Brussels offered a front-row seat to the refugee crisis and Marsh found herself reflecting on the story of Jonnart as well as how it could be recreated under a modern lens.

This is a special book, no question.

The included Amazon links are affiliate links; should you be inclined to complete a purchase, these links only mean Amazon will give me a small percentage of the cost, at no additional expense to you.