Monday, January 31, 2011

Review: Moon Over Manifest

It's difficult not to take some things personally, especially when it comes to missing the arrival a great book; so when Clare Vanderpool's MOON OVER MANIFEST won the 2011 Newbery Award, I somehow managed to think it was a personal failure to not have known about it. Worse, because I'd had my favorites already in place, I questioned the right of this book to pop up out of nowhere (or, at least, nowhere I was looking).

I decided to read it and report my findings, but ran into a snag: how could I review a book without measuring it by the highest standard of children's literature? I can't. It's impossible for me to look at it without picking apart the bones to see how it holds up against those that came before it.

What I can say, after finally having read it, is that Vanderpool deserves her day in the sun for overcoming some complicated storytelling hurdles to deliver a story with breadth and depth. Her tale of twelve-year Abilene—whose father sends her away from their itinerant life to spend the summer in Manifest, Kansas—shifts from the present (1939) to the past (1918) as Abilene digs for clues to mysteries surrounding this small town burdened by a secret past.

There's a lot of ground to cover without ever stepping outside the tiny footprint of Manifest, including: an alleged WWI spy known as the Rattler; the dirty dealings of the Klu Klux Klan; an oppressive mine owner who commands the town and all its immigrants; local boys off to war; a bootlegging preacher; influenza; Hungarian diviner; and, last but not least, letters and mementos left behind by a boy on the run...a boy Abilene thinks just might be her father. Whew.

Vanderpool unravels these many threads through multiple points of view that give the story its movement as well as its continuity between the two time periods: Abilene's first person narration; letters from a WWI soldier; old news excerpts; and third-person vignettes told by a "diviner" who recounts the past as though it is being relived. She deserves kudos for doing something I don't see done very often or very well: alternating between two time periods without upsetting the story or the reader (who may become attached to one era and resent the jarring).

It could be that since the two eras are fairly close in time, and some of the same characters exist in both, Vanderpool is able to maintain the same grip on the reader's attention (although I admit to having preferred the old story within the present story of 1939). Regardless, this is no small feat. She also does a superb job of grounding her story in vivid historical detail without making the experience feel at all teachery (which kids will love).

I do have a few bones to pick, however, not the least of which is the similarity of the two main narrative voices—those of Abilene and Sadie, the diviner—which are expressed with a little too much generic folksiness. Even Abilene wonders how she should be speaking (do people in Manifest say y'all?), and this tells me that Vanderpool wasn't quite sure herself. Since Sadie is Hungarian, it would have been nice to hear different diction or tone to that key element of the storytelling. It would also have smoothed the transition from present to past with a little less confusion as to who was telling each part of the story.

I'd also love to have seen Abilene be more active, make some mistakes that drive the story, and maybe change a little more by the end; in other words, to be more of a protagonist. Instead, the protagonist is someone in the past—the boy known only as Jinx. The problem comes from the fact that so much of the story is being retold. The nature of the town's secret is so unique and well worth telling, I wanted to see Abilene be more of a participant than an observer; or, if not that, then somehow significantly altered by the experience of uncovering the past. If it's there, I didn't pick up on it.

Although I wish there hadn't been so much left to the end for the truth to be revealed (made manifest), there's a lot of depth to this story's message. By the end, I felt satisfied by all the threads that came together and the lives that reached across two decades to create a place called home.  I can see why the Newbery committee selected it, and look forward to seeing more of Clare Vanderpool's work in the future.

Saturday, January 29, 2011

Kate and Me: Like This, Only Not

Presenting Kate DiCamillo, whose path to publishing is pretty much just like mine. And by pretty much, I mean the struggling outsider, loser stretch of the journey. It's the persistence part that speaks to me.



Video by Adolescent Literacy (Adlit.org). Thanks to Candlewick for the link.

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

On The Road Again...and Again...and Again

I just picked up the winner of the 2011 Newbery Medal, MOON OVER MANIFEST. This is not a review of that book (I'll write one soon), but just a simple observation that of the 2011 Newbery recipients I've read thus far —MOON OVER MANIFEST, TURTLE IN PARADISE and ONE CRAZY SUMMER—all three have opening scenes that take place on some mode of transportation: train, car and plane (respectively). I'll also hazard a guess that the opening scene of HEART OF A SAMURAI (an Honor winner about a shipwrecked boy rescued by a whaler) takes place on a ship, though I could be wrong.

Thinking I found a simple key to success, I mentally scanned through a list of my favorite books to see if they all have opening transportation scenes. Alas, they do not. However, what this year's trend tells me is that putting the main character in a boat, plane, train or automobile is an excellent way to get the main character out of the ordinary world and into the special world of the hero's journey without delay. No messing around with snooze-inducing background information. The old life is already slipping away while the main character (and reader) can get down to the business of anticipating what comes next.

This is not to say that stories which open in place are not equally as heroic (in fact, I think they come with some very special heroics of the writer), but I do think it's a fine way to get the story gears in motion. Literally.

Another benefit of these transportation scenes is to create what screenwriter Kathleen Rowell calls The Pope in the Pool. During one of her presentations at a Whidbey Writers MFA residency, she described the technique as a way to avoid the talking head affliction when creating a scene in which a lot of information needs to be conveyed. In the example she shared, the scene took place at the pool of the Vatican. In order for the viewer to absorb the necessary information, they put the Pope in the pool and had him swim laps for a visual distraction.

So, thank you 2011 Newberyians. You've got me thinking that, whether I'm launching a story into the special world of the hero's journey or issuing a massive data dump, I'm going to be considering my story's first scene with my feet instead of my head.

Thursday, January 13, 2011

Boycott the Bird

The first major insult to the literary world came with the release of a book by the foul-mouthed, semi-sober, trash t.v. celebrity known as Snooki, from which the following exudate is spewed forth:
"They were huddled together like a family of Ellis Island Immigrants just off the Mayflower."
—A Shore Thing
Okay. I think that's enough said.

The second blow came earlier this week when NBC's Today bumped Caldecott and Newbery winners in favor of an interview with said "author."

Really NBC? Really?

Jane Yolen has taken on Today by emailing and posting a succinct rant on her website. Listen, if there's anyone I wouldn't want to rub the wrong way, it's the author of 300 children's books. You go, girrrrl!

Jane suggests emailing NBC to voice our outrage.

I suggest a boycott. Or a good YouTube send up of NBC sinking into the human waste it so powerfully embraces and promotes.

It would be a step in the right direction.

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

Announcing the Winner of the First Annual Platinum WTF Award

Oh, get your mind out of the gutter. In this case, WTF stands for We Think you're Fabulous! It's to honor glaring omissions in the august award selections for a Newbery (medal or honor). And if you want to think it stands for something else, so be it. I am not here to judge you.


The point is to award the book (or books) that deserved a nod from Newbery. This is not to detract from the medal and honor winners, but to say Hey, WTF! to the author who deserved to be honored as well. Historically, honor books have not been restricted to a set number (they have ranged from zero to five). I understand that the committee wishes to distinguish the very best by keeping the count low, but come on. Even winners can tie.

And so, it is with heartfelt appreciation for the Meryl Streep of children's literature that I award the first annual Platinum WTF Award to.....

That's right, Laurie Halse Anderson was screwed overlooked yet again. We saw the same thing with CHAINS. And with that book, I have to say that there is no way Neil Gaiman's THE GRAVEYARD BOOK could hold a bloody candle to LHA's breathless masterpiece.

Could it be, as many had anticipated, that the second book in a series would run off the rails? Well, tell that to Susan Cooper who won a Newbery honor and medal for THE DARK IS RISING and THE GREY KING respectively. Or...dig up Laura Ingalls Wilder, who won a whopping five honors.

No, there is no good reason why FORGE was left off the podium. As part of a series, it stood alone. There was no confusion about events that came before the book, and the ending was a classic leave-em-begging-for-more that is not restricted to series, but should be an element of all great books.

As alluded to above, I tend to think it's a case of MSS—Meryl Streep Syndrome. Everyone knows Laurie Halse Anderson is a gifted writer who is guaranteed to deliver a stellar performance. The Committee, like the Academy, may be wooed by the element of surprise...the authors or books they didn't see coming. Such is the curse of fabulousity.

While I'm at it, I'd like to present a retroactive Platinum WTF to....


It's true that Barbara O'Connor's little delinquents-in-the-making go nuts over HOW TO STEAL A DOG, but who cares what kids think? GREETINGS FROM NOWHERE is simply too good not to have received a Newbery.

That's it for the 2011 Platinum WTF Award. Until next year...don't forget to tell an author you feel was overlooked that you think s/he is fabulous.

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Almost Live...

I needed to create a website for someone, so in order to become familiar with the process, I tossed up a website for myself.

For those who lack a single meaningful thing to occupy their time.

Saturday, January 1, 2011

My Life as a Shack

This is not a New Year's resolution. It is part of THE PLAN, which is not so much a plan as it is a series of experimental leaps through life and writing. Right now, one of those leaps is to create something from scrap that comments on my process, something I can also use as a space in which to create more life and writing.

In poetry, I learned how to write found poems with words picked up in random places (newspaper clippings, box tops, labels, headlines, etc), so this next project is along those same lines of building a form out of found items. Some people call it reclaimed. Others call it junk. I call it my meta shack.

It starts with this:

A door (or, most of one). It needs a bottom panel among other things.

The idea is to build a structure using found or reclaimed items that I can shape and revise into something I can live with (or better yet, love). I got lucky with the door. It's my reminder to keep going in all creative pursuits—symbolic as well as a functional.

First, I need to learn how to build something that won't fall apart. Sort of like learning how to write a story. Hopefully, this will be less painful.

I'm no genius, but figure I'll need the following:

A roof.
Four walls.
Windows.
Something along the lines of a floor.
The rest of the front door.

I'll post updates as I move along (don't expect much until the weather warms up and dries out...say, July).