George Saunders is an award-winning author and MacArthur Genius Grant recipient who’s made a name for himself writing dark, occasionally violent stories that satirize capitalism. In other words: not exactly bedtime material. But with his newest book, he decided he wanted to write exactly that: a story to tell his daughters at bedtime. To do this, he had to come up with a whole new bag of tricks and the resulting book The Very Persistent Gappers of Frip is a refreshingly touching defense of tenderness.
The story takes place in the three shack seaside town of Frip, where a young girl named Capable lives with her father and makes a meager living producing goat’s milk with the rest of her community. Unfortunately, Frip is also home to some orange spiky baseball-shaped creatures called gappers who attach themselves to goats, stopping them from producing milk. Getting gappers off of goats is a constant chore for the people of Frip, until the gappers form a new strategy: to gang up on Capable’s yard all at once. Capable asks her neighbors for help, but, sadly, they’ve decided that their sudden gapper-free life is a reward for their good character and that Capable’s bad luck must be punishment for bad character. They offer her ridiculously impractical advice like, “Be more efficient than you’ve ever been before. In fact, be more efficient than is physically possible. I know that’s what I’d do.” In order to survive Capable will have to find a new way of life and a way to teach her neighbors the value of community.
As always, Saunders' prose is a comfort. Even in storybook mode he manages to be scathing and critical without sacrificing warmth, something not many writers have balanced since Kurt Vonnegut. It’s a reassuring voice, and, much like a good bedtime story, you’ll want to read this book again and again. If you have time, check out his most recent appearance on The Late Show to hear him sing a song inspired by Frip (Saunders is one of those rare guitar strumming MacArthur Geniuses).
Some books take a little while to get going, but that’s not the case with the Ruth Wariner’s memoir The Sound of Gravel. It’s hard to stop reading after the first stunning sentence: “I am my mother’s fourth child and my father’s thirty-ninth.” Wariner grew up in what was supposed to be a utopian Mormon colony, founded by her grandfather. The rural farming community Colonia LeBaron was established in Mexico as a haven for those who believed in Joseph Smith’s original teachings — including polygamy.
Wariner never knew her father, once the prophet of the community. He was murdered by a member of a rival church — headed by his own brother — when she was just three months old. Her mother Kathy’s remarriage as the second wife to a colony member three years later defined her chaotic, hard-scrabble childhood. Short-tempered and selfish, Lane showed little fatherly attention to his stepchildren and children, eventually becoming predatory. He was a poor provider despite his strong work ethic, housing Kathy and her children in a rodent-infested, two-bedroom house with one unfinished bathroom, an outhouse for the meanwhile, and no electricity.
Wariner’s unique coming-of-age story is marked by poverty as much as it is by belonging to a religious cult. While Lane worked on their farm, it was up to Kathy to travel with the kids by bus to pick up government assistance checks over the border in El Paso like other colony wives as part of a complex, necessary scam.
Complicating life was a “difficult” older sister who was prone to fits of violence, a developmentally delayed older brother and a constant stream of new half-siblings to help take care of. Although her mother was loving and devoted, she always chose her husband over her children when it came time to take sides, defending Lane time and again for repeated abuses.
The Sound of Gravel is as engrossing as it is horrific. Wariner’s honest, revealing prose transports the reader to a world few would choose to visit, let alone live in. Wariner’s grit and rejection of a god that would will such horrible things gave her the strength to leave the community at the age of 15. Readers who enjoyed Jeannette Walls’ memoir The Glass Castle or Mary Karr’s The Liars’ Club will want to pick up The Sound of Gravel.
Marianne Dubuc is an awarding-winning author and illustrator, but never before has she created such an absolutely mesmerizing book for children (or unselfconscious adults). In Mr. Postmouse’s Rounds, we follow Mr. Postmouse as he delivers the mail, getting a sneak peek into a detailed cross-section of each animal abode on his route. Mr. Mouse must travel from treetops to the bottom of the sea in his quest to deliver the mail, but he is never too busy for a smile and a wave at each happy package recipient. Roller skates for turtle or a new shovel for mole, each package in the wagon must be delivered. The illustrations are bustling with details, and readers are sure to find something new each time they open this book. Every panel creates complex, funny characters like the yeti who loves to knit, the overeager ants and a very friendly dragon. While the text is amusing and easy to read, the book’s clever illustrations will win over readers of all ages.
Mother Bruce by Ryan T. Higgins is a laugh-out-loud picture book that also gently pokes fun at our interest in cooking fancy, gourmet foods. Bruce is a grumpy little bear who only likes eggs. He scours the Internet for new and interesting ways to prepare them. No ingredient is too difficult for him to procure as he combs the forest, ever the local shopper. However, things get complicated when he finds a recipe online which calls for duck eggs. The eggs hatch as Bruce attempts to prepare them, and he finds himself the victim of mistaken identity when the ducklings think Bruce is their mama. This book has a great sense of humor and will delight both kids and the grownups they beg to read it again. The author infuses this same hilarity into the illustrations as well. I especially enjoyed Bruce’s unibrow and his many disgusted and disgruntled expressions.
Learning a new language is challenging, fun and rewarding. Some of the most useful languages a person can learn today are computer coding languages. Many people would be surprised to find that coding languages are not privy only to the extremely tech-savvy or even those who are math geniuses. In fact, even children can learn programming languages, and there are many great books to help introduce them to it. Children today are growing up intuitively knowing how to use technology. Take it a step further by introducing kids (or yourself) to the rewarding aspects of creating or making technology. Creating technology is the best way to fully understand how it works and how it affects our everyday lives. Each of these books explains how coding can be creative, artistic, exciting and engaging. Although they are targeted for children, these books can easily be read by adults who want a true beginner’s approach to computer science. The only materials needed to learn each of these languages are a computer with a working Internet browser and an eagerness to start coding!
Ruby is a programming language that is very easy for people to understand. Ruby Wizardry by Eric Weinstein explains how coding languages are like the translator between human language and computer language. Sometimes languages are very easy for a computer to understand, but difficult for humans to understand and vice versa. With Ruby, each line of code is easy for both humans and computers to understand. Weinstein explains that Ruby is so easy to read, writing Ruby code is just like writing a story. He formats his book into a story about two kids helping a king organize his kingdom through the magical power of code. The analogies in his story help explain more complicated computer science theories and concepts. For example, he uses a story about a broken pipe in the king’s castle to explain how computers can be coded with conditional statements to respond to various outcomes. The book is entertaining to work through because of the storylines and a great introduction to coding in general.
Similarly to Ruby, Python is also good for kids to learn because it is easy to read. It can be used for creating games, building websites, analyzing data and more. Craig Richardson’s book Adventures in Python is organized more like a textbook for slightly older kids. Each project in this book is arranged by adventure, and each adventure covers a different aspect of the Python language. The projects get steadily more difficult as you work through the book, with each adventure building on concepts covered in the previous section. To begin, you use Python coding to create text and drawings that use Python’s built-in turtle module. Eventually, you use these skills in another module called PyGame, and the book concludes with building an interactive, two-player game. It definitely takes time and patience to work through, but Python is an exceedingly useful language and the book’s “adventure” structure makes it approachable and fun.
No matter which language or book you choose, you will gain a better perspective on how technology and computers work. Computer science can be a daunting topic, but these colorful, youth-oriented books make it approachable for anyone!
Robert Jordan spent more than two decades of his life writing his Wheel of Time series. What started as a proposed three-book series ended up a 14 book epic, and The Wheel of Time Companion is an absolute must for any fan of the series. Fourteen volumes involves a lot of world-building. So many characters! So many plot threads dangling all over the place! Who killed Asmodean? Why is Aran’gar such a nut? Readers need to know.
Jordan’s wife Harriet McDougal and longtime editors Romanczuk and Simons assembled this detailed compendium and dedicated it to “all the readers who love the Wheel of Time.” Readers certainly do love the Wheel of Time, and this book reflects the love that the Wheel’s curators feel for the readers, too.
For anyone who has ever wondered about the difference between Sea Folk and Seanchan, or how the male power level differs from the female powers, or how in the world the rank system in Cairhien works (and what is the Great Game, anyway?), pick up this book. Every named character, every named location, every creature Jordan ever mentioned, every permutation in name of every Forsaken is included. It even has a dictionary and grammar guide for the Old Tongue. Because, really: What was Mat Cauthon saying half the time?
Fans of Jordan’s Wheel of Time series, fans of Brandon Sanderson’s book Elantris and his Mistborn series, and any fans of complex world-building need to read this book. It is, in essence, a manual on how to create a rich fantasy world that will keep on attracting readers for decades.
Life would be rock star awesome if we had super powers, right? Well, not really. Take a look at Jessica Jones, a depressed private detective self-employed at Alias Investigations. Before that, though, she was a mediocre, costumed superhero with unimpressive super power abilities, at least when compared to big names like Storm and Invisible Woman. Follow me as I give you a sneak peek inside Jessica Jones: Alias, volume 1, a graphic novel penned by Brian Michael Bendis and illustrated by Michael Gaydos.
In Volume 1, Jessica works as a private detective at Alias Investigations to solve superhuman- related cases for her overly concerned clients. She takes on a job that turns out to be iffy. For instance, while she is out conducting surveillance for a case, she captures a man on video changing into his superhero costume. His name is Captain America, and his identity is a secret. The same case lands her in an interrogation room with the cops for suspicion of murder. Jessica realizes she was set up to film the secret identity of Captain America and to be the fall guy for a murder. Her plan is to find the mastermind behind this dirty scheme. Although Jessica Jones’ superhero days are possibly over, her future as private eye is looking mighty bright.
I totally admire the illustrations by Michael Gaydos. I love the panel layouts and the way he draws the characters’ facial expressions. The coloring by Matt Hollingsworth has a film noir-ish vibe, which is a plus because I love classic Hollywood films. The dialogue is engaging. The protagonist is mysterious and intriguing. I look forward to reading more about Jessica Jones. If you relish film noir, crime, mystery, private detectives and superheroes, read Jessica Jones: Alias, volume 1. If you find yourself liking this graphic novel, then check out Marvel's Jessica Jones television series, which is available now on Netflix. When you're finished reading Jessica Jones: Alias, volume 1, and you find yourself wanting more, be sure to pick up a copy of volumes 2, 3 and 4 at your nearest BCPL branch.
Charlie Jane Anders’ All the Birds in the Sky is one of the most intriguing new novels of the year, partially because it defies definition. It’s fantasy, speculative, sci-fi, humor, coming-of-age and awkward epic romance, with the hipster references of a not-so-distant future. Think of it as magical realism for the digital age.
Patricia and Laurence are the quintessential outcasts at school, left out and bullied to varying degrees. Both suffer from clueless, inane parents who fail to recognize and appreciate what their children are capable of — and Patricia is burdened with a sociopathic older sister to boot.
Laurence is a super-tech geek, possessing a brilliant mind capable of easily cobbling together a wristwatch-sized, two-second time machine, which jumps the wearer two seconds in time. He has built a becoming-sentient supercomputer, which he keeps in his bedroom closet. Patricia happens to be a witch, whose powers first manifest as an ability to speak with birds and one particular tree. She’ll later hone these skills at a school for magic, where she finds she doesn’t fit in either — it’s no Hogwarts. Laurence’s parents pack him up and out to a military school, where the bullying intensifies. And while these outcasts don’t immediately embrace friendship (they are really very different), it seems inevitable. The two circle in and out of each other’s social orbits, and their coincidental meetups intensify once Patricia buys a Caddy, a guitar pick-shaped social media super tablet that enhances the user’s life in inexplicable ways.
The story gains momentum when the Earth is suddenly wracked with erupting superstorms. Is Patricia’s band of avenging-angel witches the key to saving the world, or will Laurence’s hacker-inventor cohort succeed in opening a wormhole to a new, better planet? Anders’ clever pre-apocalyptic novel never loses sight of the running themes of being understood, of being valued for who you are and the difficulty of making meaningful connections when you’re out on the fringe.
Lauren Redniss’ latest book is an odd duckling among graphic novels. Rather than following any kind of paneled format, it contains passages of text interspersed with vibrantly-colored photogravure etchings and atmospheric pastel drawings that take up the entire surface of the page, resulting in an effect that is more like a book of hours than Peanuts. Those who enjoyed Cynthia Barnett’s book Rain will find an evocative companion in Thunder & Lightning.
In Thunder & Lightning, Redniss seeks to depict how weather has shaped our world and how we have adapted in a constant attempt to better predict and manipulate the weather. She has gathered the research of a wide variety of historians, scientists and environmental activists, and heavily peppers the text with their quotations, always opting for clear, plain-spoken statements from the mouths of experts rather than a summary of their findings. From this, fantastic stories emerge — of how the US military experimented in making their own rain during the Vietnam War, of hidden utopias in an Icelandic archipelago covered in permafrost year round, of the outdoor air conditioning engineered to cool the Kaaba in Mecca — along with poignant anecdotes of the natural disasters that are still fresh in our memories — Hurricanes Katrina, Sandy and Irene, the Chilean mine collapse, the summer wildfires in California. Through these tales, one becomes infected with Reniss’ wonder towards the sky and what it might bring, for even as we deepen our understanding of the climate and learn to create clouds, the forecast remains mysterious.