Kasey Cox
Susan Williams’ novel Wind Rider garnered advance praise from two powerhouse names in contemporary literature – Jean Craighead George, best known as the author of the Newbery Medal-winning children’s classic, Julie of the Wolves; and Jean M. Auel, author of The Clan of the Cave Bear series. Both authors raved about Wind Rider, and for good reason.
Wind Rider takes place on the steppes of Stone Age Asia, although the exact place didn’t matter to me as I eagerly turned the pages of this beautiful and exciting story. I knew that the main character, pre-adolescent Fern, lived in an ancient world, with a group of people whose main focus must still be survival. Fern’s mother, Moss, had lost so many children during pregnancy, childbirth, and in their infancy, that their tribe allowed her to let both of her twins live – Fern, and her brother, Flint – to become the only set of twins among all their people. This immediately sets Fern a bit apart, but it is her personality, her desires, her gifts and longings that really make her unusual, much to the frustration of her mother.
Fern has an affinity for animals, whom she sees not just as food, but as friends. She cares for injured birds; has a dog who does not work as a hunting dog but is instead her pet and constant companion; and she is fascinated by horses. The difference between Fern and every other “girl who loves horses” book is this: no one in Fern’s tribe has ever tamed a horse. The exhilaration, the patience, the effort that is involved in the process, though, is a timeless story, one that echoes classics like The Black Stallion and My Friend Flicka. I also found some parallels to one of my favorites, The Little Prince, by St.-Exupery, in the process of taming something to become your friend, as well as your responsibility.
The voice that Susan Williams creates for Fern strikes in my head as both foreign and familiar. The rhythm and vocabulary of Fern’s first-person narrative reminds me of the speech of Native Americans, or the Maori of New Zealand, or other aboriginal peoples – beautiful but exotic to the ears of this WASP-y woman. Fern’s feelings, however, echo painful and true. Adolescents of both genders will sympathize with Fern’s frustrations and rebelliousness; women of all ages will appreciate her struggle to define herself as a person, both within and beyond gender roles. Fern chafes at the things that are expected of her as a young woman; though she loves her twin, she is jealous of the things he is allowed to do, and the opportunities his future seems to hold. Fern does not look forward to being a wife or a mother, dreads being tied down to caring for babies and men.
Kudos to the author for not leaving the story there, but showing how, as tragedy hits and as Fern nurtures her horse, Fern’s perspective grows on what it means to be a mother, a caregiver, and a member of a family and a tribe. Indeed, in many aspects, Williams creates a story that is simple on the surface, and truly enjoyable to read, but one which also addresses many deeper aspects of being human.
Monday, September 24, 2007
Spring Songs, or What a Bird in the Hand is Really Worth
Kasey Cox
Chur-REE! A couple of years ago, these plush, stuffed toy birds showed up in Dunham’s, each one with a real bird song inside, recorded by the Audubon Society. My mom and I picked one out as a Christmas present for my nephew, joked how my grandmother Laura would have gotten a kick out of these. I received the red-wing blackbird for Christmas, much to the dismay of the cat but to my endless fascination. For me, it’s not the robin who is the harbinger of spring in these parts. As someone who suffers from SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder, and who doesn’t experience that, to some extent, living around here?), I know winter’s back is truly broken for another year when I see the red-wing blackbirds in the fields. And now, after freaking out the cat and annoying my boyfriend by pushing my stuffed bird’s button a hundred times, I will never forget what to listen for, as well.
As fun as the Audubon toys are, I can’t afford to buy one for every birdsong I’d like to learn. And although it’s amusing to open this article with my approximation of birdspeak, I think you’ll get more from the expert who will become birders’ – amateur and serious – new best friend. Stan Tekiela is an award-winning author, wildlife photographer, naturalist, columnist, and radio-show host from Minnesota. To date, Stan has published nearly sixty books, filled with gorgeous, close-up color photos, and well-organized information. His books include guides on birds in nearly forty states as well as regions like the Grand Tetons and Yellowstone. He has also penned books on categories of birds, such as raptors or geese; family nature guides; a how-to begin mushroom hunting; and several guides to regional tree and wildflower identification.
With his bird guides for specific states, Stan has taken out the guesswork that comes with larger classics like Audubon, Stokes, Peterson or National Geographic – “does this bird even live in my area?” And best of all, almost every Stan Tekiela state bird book has a companion audio CD (or CDs). At the bottom of every information page in the bird books, there is a reference to the CD track number where one can hear the bird matching the description and photo from the book! The CDs can be purchased separately, or as part of a guidebook-and-CD set at very reasonable prices (suggested retail price of most guide books is around $13, and the CD is around $15). Now that’s birding for dummies or for idiots, without the name-calling! I’m thrilled with this new discovery, which will save me from drowning in a hundred of stuffed birds, keep me in good graces with Kevin and Hobo (not always an easy trick, between the two of them), and give me a gift option for last-minute or hard-to-buy-for folks. Plus, I’m hoping to look super-knowledgeable this coming spring and summer as I name birds everywhere I go. Too bad this wasn’t available to me when I was a camp counselor. But, it’s never too late to learn these heart-lifting songs and teach them to others. My grandmother, Laura, would be proud.
Chur-REE! A couple of years ago, these plush, stuffed toy birds showed up in Dunham’s, each one with a real bird song inside, recorded by the Audubon Society. My mom and I picked one out as a Christmas present for my nephew, joked how my grandmother Laura would have gotten a kick out of these. I received the red-wing blackbird for Christmas, much to the dismay of the cat but to my endless fascination. For me, it’s not the robin who is the harbinger of spring in these parts. As someone who suffers from SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder, and who doesn’t experience that, to some extent, living around here?), I know winter’s back is truly broken for another year when I see the red-wing blackbirds in the fields. And now, after freaking out the cat and annoying my boyfriend by pushing my stuffed bird’s button a hundred times, I will never forget what to listen for, as well.
As fun as the Audubon toys are, I can’t afford to buy one for every birdsong I’d like to learn. And although it’s amusing to open this article with my approximation of birdspeak, I think you’ll get more from the expert who will become birders’ – amateur and serious – new best friend. Stan Tekiela is an award-winning author, wildlife photographer, naturalist, columnist, and radio-show host from Minnesota. To date, Stan has published nearly sixty books, filled with gorgeous, close-up color photos, and well-organized information. His books include guides on birds in nearly forty states as well as regions like the Grand Tetons and Yellowstone. He has also penned books on categories of birds, such as raptors or geese; family nature guides; a how-to begin mushroom hunting; and several guides to regional tree and wildflower identification.
With his bird guides for specific states, Stan has taken out the guesswork that comes with larger classics like Audubon, Stokes, Peterson or National Geographic – “does this bird even live in my area?” And best of all, almost every Stan Tekiela state bird book has a companion audio CD (or CDs). At the bottom of every information page in the bird books, there is a reference to the CD track number where one can hear the bird matching the description and photo from the book! The CDs can be purchased separately, or as part of a guidebook-and-CD set at very reasonable prices (suggested retail price of most guide books is around $13, and the CD is around $15). Now that’s birding for dummies or for idiots, without the name-calling! I’m thrilled with this new discovery, which will save me from drowning in a hundred of stuffed birds, keep me in good graces with Kevin and Hobo (not always an easy trick, between the two of them), and give me a gift option for last-minute or hard-to-buy-for folks. Plus, I’m hoping to look super-knowledgeable this coming spring and summer as I name birds everywhere I go. Too bad this wasn’t available to me when I was a camp counselor. But, it’s never too late to learn these heart-lifting songs and teach them to others. My grandmother, Laura, would be proud.
"Quality" Poetry
Kasey Cox
April is National Poetry Month. Yeah, I know: there’s a national month, or special week, or weird celebratory day, for every topic and group in the universe now. There’s even a book up at WNBT that lists, by month, everything from “National Dental Health Care Week” to “International Talk-Like-A-Pirate Day”. (Although those two topics might not be so unrelated as they first appear, har har.)
But I actually look forward to National Poetry Month. I love poetry. Poetry challenges me, feeds me, shocks me, makes me giggle, soothes me in songs, comes to me from sacred texts and coffeeshops and in emails from friends. And, unlike many genres of literature, I believe there is a poetry book for everyone. There may not be a story from the thriller group that you’d like, or a biography, or a book on investing. But I’m fairly certain if we looked, and probably not even for that long, we could find a poem or two that you would love.
I told Kevin I was prepared to write two or three columns for National Poetry Month, or even do the entire month of reviews. He gave me a look. He thought one column would be enough. “People just don’t like poetry all that much,” he told me, gently but firmly – although he writes fine poetry himself.
So how do I choose one book to focus on? Actually, it was a clear and easy choice. There is one poetry book that fits all of us.
When I had to be in the hospital for a while during my college years, a friend brought me this special book – J. Ruth Gendler’s “The Book of Qualities”. Since then, I have turned around and given copies of this book to all different people in my life. I’ve shared this beautiful little book as a gift for graduations, wedding showers, birthdays, major illnesses, surgeries, and as a thank-you note. I’ve read selections from it at open mike nights, support groups, and memorial services.
In “The Book of Qualities”, poet and artist Ruth Gendler dedicates one page to each of almost one hundred human characteristics and feelings. These are the Qualities. With playful and insightful words, she describes each Quality as though he or she were a person you know. Change becomes your unwelcome houseguest; Honor could be your grandfather; Courage may be the woman who befriended you as you faced your divorce. Each of the Qualities has a favorite color, or a hobby. They have faces and hair and cars and clothes and jobs. And in those characteristics, in each Quality, you will recognize yourself and those you know – often in delightful and startling new ways. This little book is truly a classic: one of those books that you will find yourself revisiting time and again, once it has become a part of your life. Every time you re-read it, you’ll find something new.
April is National Poetry Month. Yeah, I know: there’s a national month, or special week, or weird celebratory day, for every topic and group in the universe now. There’s even a book up at WNBT that lists, by month, everything from “National Dental Health Care Week” to “International Talk-Like-A-Pirate Day”. (Although those two topics might not be so unrelated as they first appear, har har.)
But I actually look forward to National Poetry Month. I love poetry. Poetry challenges me, feeds me, shocks me, makes me giggle, soothes me in songs, comes to me from sacred texts and coffeeshops and in emails from friends. And, unlike many genres of literature, I believe there is a poetry book for everyone. There may not be a story from the thriller group that you’d like, or a biography, or a book on investing. But I’m fairly certain if we looked, and probably not even for that long, we could find a poem or two that you would love.
I told Kevin I was prepared to write two or three columns for National Poetry Month, or even do the entire month of reviews. He gave me a look. He thought one column would be enough. “People just don’t like poetry all that much,” he told me, gently but firmly – although he writes fine poetry himself.
So how do I choose one book to focus on? Actually, it was a clear and easy choice. There is one poetry book that fits all of us.
When I had to be in the hospital for a while during my college years, a friend brought me this special book – J. Ruth Gendler’s “The Book of Qualities”. Since then, I have turned around and given copies of this book to all different people in my life. I’ve shared this beautiful little book as a gift for graduations, wedding showers, birthdays, major illnesses, surgeries, and as a thank-you note. I’ve read selections from it at open mike nights, support groups, and memorial services.
In “The Book of Qualities”, poet and artist Ruth Gendler dedicates one page to each of almost one hundred human characteristics and feelings. These are the Qualities. With playful and insightful words, she describes each Quality as though he or she were a person you know. Change becomes your unwelcome houseguest; Honor could be your grandfather; Courage may be the woman who befriended you as you faced your divorce. Each of the Qualities has a favorite color, or a hobby. They have faces and hair and cars and clothes and jobs. And in those characteristics, in each Quality, you will recognize yourself and those you know – often in delightful and startling new ways. This little book is truly a classic: one of those books that you will find yourself revisiting time and again, once it has become a part of your life. Every time you re-read it, you’ll find something new.
A Father's Legacy: Fact or Fiction?
Kasey Cox
My dad reads history books for fun. I’m sure many of you can relate, but I, however, have often found my dad’s hobby perplexing. For Dad, the best books present the down-to-the-minute detail of battles, examine every word of a president’s letters to friends, follow the explorer each painful step of the journey. Yes, it’s interesting, but I’m talking 1,000 pages of details. A daunting task for even us dedicated readers.
When I was growing up, my dad, the lifelong history major, took us to battlefield memorials instead of to amusement parks. As a child, I drew pictures of civil war soldiers more than doodles of Mickey Mouse. I’m sure this pleased my dad, the way this interest in history soaked into me. What didn’t please him was my desire to read historical fiction. I was enamored of the TV mini-series “The Blue and the Gray”, and soon after, began reading John Jakes’ “The North and the South” trilogy. Dad frowned upon this. Too many Southern belles with bosoms heaving and laudanum addictions, I think. Not enough “hard” history, not enough fact. The fact of the matter is, I still prefer fiction. Ironically enough, to make history most real to me, I need it connected to the stories of individual people, and no one seems to do that better than novelists.
Enter Jeff Shaara. My dad introduced me to him by way of the author’s personal life history. Jeff’s father was Michael Shaara, Pulitzer-prize winning author of The Killer Angels. Michael Shaara was at work on the second book in his trilogy on the American Civil War when he died. Not a writer or historian himself, Jeff vowed to finish his father’s work. And the books Jeff finished for his dad are excellent, critically-acclaimed. But when he spread his wings and started his own work, with books on the American Revolution, World Wars I and II, and the Mexican-American War, he surpassed his father. I have just recently finished To the Last Man, Jeff Shaara’s book on WWI. Mind you, it is, technically, historical fiction. But just barely. Bestselling history writer Joseph Persico praises Jeff Shaara’s “rarest of writing gifts, making literature read like history and history read like literature. He brings … [history] to pulsating life.” His books are “fiction” only in that Shaara creates thoughts and dialogue for these historical figures, based on impeccable research, but ultimately, on his imagination.
In most of his books, Jeff Shaara focuses mostly on the events surrounding the major figures – the generals, the leaders of the countries involved. Shaara explains in his preface of To the Last Man how this book is different: he tells about WWI through the perspective of just four people. In this way, the story isn’t comprehensive or all-inclusive, but it is incredibly powerful. The four people are General John J. Pershing, THE commander of all U.S. forces when America finally enters the war; Baron Manfred von Richthofen, “the Red Baron”; Raoul Lufbery, of the Lafayette Escadrille; and Private Roscoe Temple, U.S. Marine Corps.
Well, if you’re like me, the only reference I have to “the Red Baron” is … Charles Schultz’s Snoopy fighting him from the Sopwith Camel. It turns out Richthofen’s life, just his personal history and career alone shed tremendous light on the war and the time period itself. And I had never heard of the Lafayette Escadrille – the Americans who went to France to fly the airplane, just in its infancy as a weapon of war, way before the U.S. reluctantly decided to join the fray. Now, I’m hooked on every word I can find about these guys. (Yeah, go ahead and rent the movie “Flyboys”; the fight scenes in the air are quite realistic, I think. But then do yourself a big favor and read about the REAL people. As far as I can find out, all the characters from the movie are fiction.)
And there it is: did you see that? I crossed over. Maybe historical fiction isn’t as engaging as fact, after all. Certainly, it depends some on who is conveying the story. I, obviously, give Jeff Shaara an enthusiastic recommendation. With him, Dad and I both win.
My dad reads history books for fun. I’m sure many of you can relate, but I, however, have often found my dad’s hobby perplexing. For Dad, the best books present the down-to-the-minute detail of battles, examine every word of a president’s letters to friends, follow the explorer each painful step of the journey. Yes, it’s interesting, but I’m talking 1,000 pages of details. A daunting task for even us dedicated readers.
When I was growing up, my dad, the lifelong history major, took us to battlefield memorials instead of to amusement parks. As a child, I drew pictures of civil war soldiers more than doodles of Mickey Mouse. I’m sure this pleased my dad, the way this interest in history soaked into me. What didn’t please him was my desire to read historical fiction. I was enamored of the TV mini-series “The Blue and the Gray”, and soon after, began reading John Jakes’ “The North and the South” trilogy. Dad frowned upon this. Too many Southern belles with bosoms heaving and laudanum addictions, I think. Not enough “hard” history, not enough fact. The fact of the matter is, I still prefer fiction. Ironically enough, to make history most real to me, I need it connected to the stories of individual people, and no one seems to do that better than novelists.
Enter Jeff Shaara. My dad introduced me to him by way of the author’s personal life history. Jeff’s father was Michael Shaara, Pulitzer-prize winning author of The Killer Angels. Michael Shaara was at work on the second book in his trilogy on the American Civil War when he died. Not a writer or historian himself, Jeff vowed to finish his father’s work. And the books Jeff finished for his dad are excellent, critically-acclaimed. But when he spread his wings and started his own work, with books on the American Revolution, World Wars I and II, and the Mexican-American War, he surpassed his father. I have just recently finished To the Last Man, Jeff Shaara’s book on WWI. Mind you, it is, technically, historical fiction. But just barely. Bestselling history writer Joseph Persico praises Jeff Shaara’s “rarest of writing gifts, making literature read like history and history read like literature. He brings … [history] to pulsating life.” His books are “fiction” only in that Shaara creates thoughts and dialogue for these historical figures, based on impeccable research, but ultimately, on his imagination.
In most of his books, Jeff Shaara focuses mostly on the events surrounding the major figures – the generals, the leaders of the countries involved. Shaara explains in his preface of To the Last Man how this book is different: he tells about WWI through the perspective of just four people. In this way, the story isn’t comprehensive or all-inclusive, but it is incredibly powerful. The four people are General John J. Pershing, THE commander of all U.S. forces when America finally enters the war; Baron Manfred von Richthofen, “the Red Baron”; Raoul Lufbery, of the Lafayette Escadrille; and Private Roscoe Temple, U.S. Marine Corps.
Well, if you’re like me, the only reference I have to “the Red Baron” is … Charles Schultz’s Snoopy fighting him from the Sopwith Camel. It turns out Richthofen’s life, just his personal history and career alone shed tremendous light on the war and the time period itself. And I had never heard of the Lafayette Escadrille – the Americans who went to France to fly the airplane, just in its infancy as a weapon of war, way before the U.S. reluctantly decided to join the fray. Now, I’m hooked on every word I can find about these guys. (Yeah, go ahead and rent the movie “Flyboys”; the fight scenes in the air are quite realistic, I think. But then do yourself a big favor and read about the REAL people. As far as I can find out, all the characters from the movie are fiction.)
And there it is: did you see that? I crossed over. Maybe historical fiction isn’t as engaging as fact, after all. Certainly, it depends some on who is conveying the story. I, obviously, give Jeff Shaara an enthusiastic recommendation. With him, Dad and I both win.
Alysa of the Fields
Kasey Cox
I believe strongly in promoting local authors, and Tina Field Howe makes this easy. Tina is located in Corning, NY, and has a beautiful website showcasing her many talents as artist, illustrator, graphic designer, writer, and editor. She works with media as diverse as stained glass to screenplays. Most recently, I have had the pleasure of becoming absorbed in Tina’s novel, “Alysa of the Fields”. The first in a series, Alysa’s story tells of life on Xunar-kun, a planet with many similarities to Earth, with a history that is a cautionary “what-if” parallel to our own. Howe smoothly combines elements of science fiction, fantasy, anthropology, survival stories, spirituality, nature studies, and young adult fiction. I found “Alysa of the Fields” to be a compelling, though not heavy-handed read, one that should be engaging for teens and adults alike.
I like some science fiction and fantasy, but I tend to be picky. When I started out with “Alysa of the Fields”, I was a little leery, afraid that it would be one more science fiction story where the author indulges in creating a different planet with beings that have exotic fur or colors or brow ridges, but are otherwise humanoid. That’s one thing I personally don’t like about many sci-fi series on TV: I get bored with the “planet- and new-alien-culture-of-the-week” approach. This, however, is exactly where Tina Howe triumphs. Her background in anthropology and her creative interest in people shine through in her descriptions of life among the Field-Folk and the Trailmen. Tina includes explanations of how people in these two separate tribes have adapted to daily life these 3,000 years “A.C.” (After Cataclysm). Included are details about how they cook their food, what they eat, their style of dress, their matrimonial ceremonies, their division of labor, their pets, and so much more. None of this is boring, since it is well-incorporated into the storyline. I never felt I was reading description for descriptions’ sake.
Like any society, stories and skills, beliefs and traditions are taught, practiced, and passed on to insure the survival of Alysa’s people, the Field-Folk. Besides twice-yearly meetings for trade, during which a form of sign language is used, the “Folk” do not interact with the Trailmen, whom they believe to be a fierce, aggressive, dangerous people. But the Folk and the Trailmen are on the cusp of tremendous, far-reaching changes. Alysa, quite unintentionally at first, is the catalyst.
Alysa is a likeable character, perhaps made all the more so by the fact that she is a somewhat unlikely heroine. She displays no unusual talents, has felt no calling to special work in her young life. She has been content to work in the fields, and keep house with her family. Alysa is genuine, caring, and loyal; she is firmly dedicated to those she loves. Following her strength of heart has never caused her problems, until the sudden death of her father changes the plans made for her adult life. Having no knowledge of the events she will set in motion, or of the consequences for all the inhabitants of the planet, she begins to question the traditions of her people, their beliefs about the strange Trailmen, the history they have always taught. With these events, and with Alysa’s actions, we the readers find many ways to connect with and learn from this book. Tina Howe has created a story that celebrates following your convictions and that encourages us to look at people who are different from us with respectful curiosity, openness, tolerance, and a desire to learn.
I believe strongly in promoting local authors, and Tina Field Howe makes this easy. Tina is located in Corning, NY, and has a beautiful website showcasing her many talents as artist, illustrator, graphic designer, writer, and editor. She works with media as diverse as stained glass to screenplays. Most recently, I have had the pleasure of becoming absorbed in Tina’s novel, “Alysa of the Fields”. The first in a series, Alysa’s story tells of life on Xunar-kun, a planet with many similarities to Earth, with a history that is a cautionary “what-if” parallel to our own. Howe smoothly combines elements of science fiction, fantasy, anthropology, survival stories, spirituality, nature studies, and young adult fiction. I found “Alysa of the Fields” to be a compelling, though not heavy-handed read, one that should be engaging for teens and adults alike.
I like some science fiction and fantasy, but I tend to be picky. When I started out with “Alysa of the Fields”, I was a little leery, afraid that it would be one more science fiction story where the author indulges in creating a different planet with beings that have exotic fur or colors or brow ridges, but are otherwise humanoid. That’s one thing I personally don’t like about many sci-fi series on TV: I get bored with the “planet- and new-alien-culture-of-the-week” approach. This, however, is exactly where Tina Howe triumphs. Her background in anthropology and her creative interest in people shine through in her descriptions of life among the Field-Folk and the Trailmen. Tina includes explanations of how people in these two separate tribes have adapted to daily life these 3,000 years “A.C.” (After Cataclysm). Included are details about how they cook their food, what they eat, their style of dress, their matrimonial ceremonies, their division of labor, their pets, and so much more. None of this is boring, since it is well-incorporated into the storyline. I never felt I was reading description for descriptions’ sake.
Like any society, stories and skills, beliefs and traditions are taught, practiced, and passed on to insure the survival of Alysa’s people, the Field-Folk. Besides twice-yearly meetings for trade, during which a form of sign language is used, the “Folk” do not interact with the Trailmen, whom they believe to be a fierce, aggressive, dangerous people. But the Folk and the Trailmen are on the cusp of tremendous, far-reaching changes. Alysa, quite unintentionally at first, is the catalyst.
Alysa is a likeable character, perhaps made all the more so by the fact that she is a somewhat unlikely heroine. She displays no unusual talents, has felt no calling to special work in her young life. She has been content to work in the fields, and keep house with her family. Alysa is genuine, caring, and loyal; she is firmly dedicated to those she loves. Following her strength of heart has never caused her problems, until the sudden death of her father changes the plans made for her adult life. Having no knowledge of the events she will set in motion, or of the consequences for all the inhabitants of the planet, she begins to question the traditions of her people, their beliefs about the strange Trailmen, the history they have always taught. With these events, and with Alysa’s actions, we the readers find many ways to connect with and learn from this book. Tina Howe has created a story that celebrates following your convictions and that encourages us to look at people who are different from us with respectful curiosity, openness, tolerance, and a desire to learn.
Sunday, September 23, 2007
2006 Book Diary: Year-in-Review
Kasey Cox
Somewhere between Christmas and New Year’s, I usually get a new journal. One year, my brother gave me “A Book Lover’s Diary” for Christmas. The trick is to jot down a few reflections on the various books you read as the months go by. Reading over the journal later shows you a wonderful slice of your life in any given season. This little record also serves to answer the question that inevitably arises for great minds whose bookcases are overflowing: “Did I already read this book?”
Although I didn’t keep such a journal this year, I thought I’d share a few highlights from my Book-Year-in-Review. Hopefully, a few of these treasures will go on your reading list for 2007.
For January, I’d recommend John Updike’s “A Child’s Calendar”. Many readers associate Updike with his award-winning “Rabbit” series, which is not about cute little bunnies. Nevertheless, Updike scores big with this lovely collection of poems for children. Each month has a beautiful illustration and a timely poem.
Just in time for Valentine’s Day, Kevin and I discovered a copy of “Oriental Love Poems”. Three-dimensional origami fold-outs which accent the poems make this a book to delight your eyes and your heart. In March, I took the lighter side of love and laughed my way through Christopher Moore’s “The Lust Lizard of Melancholy Cove.” Good thing I read about amorous sea monsters first, because next I read Jodi Picoult’s intense, haunting, but incredible first book, “Songs of the Humpback Whale”. A story told alternately through the voices of several of the main characters, Picoult stunned me with her writing craft and powerful story. This book, too, is a love story – one that weaves many kinds of love together but allows the reader to see each strand.
As May came to Wellsboro, I longed for the smell of fresh air and the feel of my hands in the dirt. Reading Richard Goodman’s “French Dirt” satisfied me when my garden efforts were stymied. An account of an American who eventually gets to know his new neighbors in a small village in France, I think “French Dirt” is better than the more well-known books by Peter Mayle.
I spent a lot of the summer reading “Eragon” and its sequel “Eldest”. If you haven’t heard of the phenomenon of Christopher Paolini, wunderkind author of these popular books about dragons, just remember: the book is always better than the movie.
As fall approached, I chose to honor September 11 by reading one of the first authors to deal with 9/11 through fiction. Jonathan Safran Foer, also hailed as something of a wunderkind for his first novel “Everything is Illuminated”, maintains his unique style in “Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close.” The title alone speaks volumes. The narration belongs to precocious Oskar Schell who lost his father in the Twin Towers.
For Halloween, I re-discovered a childhood favorite by Judith Viorst. Many people know her from “Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day”, but my brother and I also loved one we found at the Green Free as kids. It’s another long title which is just as much fun as the book – “My Mama Says There Aren’t Any Zombies, Ghosts, Vampires, Creatures, Demons, Monsters, Fiends, Goblins, or Things.”
In November, I saw an interview with Stephen King about his newest book, “Lisey’s Story.” He drew a parallel between writing novels and playing baseball – sometimes it’s a base hit, sometimes a homerun. He felt “Lisey’s Story” is the best he’s done in years. I agree.
Currently, I’m thrilled that Jeff Shaara’s detailed historical fiction, “To the Last Man”, about World War I, is out in paperback. As I’m reading, certain names and facts jump out at me as things I had to memorize in school, but now the pieces of the war I know so little about are coming together.
Here’s hoping Santa filled your stocking with some great books, and that you find time to read in the coming year. Happy holidays!
Somewhere between Christmas and New Year’s, I usually get a new journal. One year, my brother gave me “A Book Lover’s Diary” for Christmas. The trick is to jot down a few reflections on the various books you read as the months go by. Reading over the journal later shows you a wonderful slice of your life in any given season. This little record also serves to answer the question that inevitably arises for great minds whose bookcases are overflowing: “Did I already read this book?”
Although I didn’t keep such a journal this year, I thought I’d share a few highlights from my Book-Year-in-Review. Hopefully, a few of these treasures will go on your reading list for 2007.
For January, I’d recommend John Updike’s “A Child’s Calendar”. Many readers associate Updike with his award-winning “Rabbit” series, which is not about cute little bunnies. Nevertheless, Updike scores big with this lovely collection of poems for children. Each month has a beautiful illustration and a timely poem.
Just in time for Valentine’s Day, Kevin and I discovered a copy of “Oriental Love Poems”. Three-dimensional origami fold-outs which accent the poems make this a book to delight your eyes and your heart. In March, I took the lighter side of love and laughed my way through Christopher Moore’s “The Lust Lizard of Melancholy Cove.” Good thing I read about amorous sea monsters first, because next I read Jodi Picoult’s intense, haunting, but incredible first book, “Songs of the Humpback Whale”. A story told alternately through the voices of several of the main characters, Picoult stunned me with her writing craft and powerful story. This book, too, is a love story – one that weaves many kinds of love together but allows the reader to see each strand.
As May came to Wellsboro, I longed for the smell of fresh air and the feel of my hands in the dirt. Reading Richard Goodman’s “French Dirt” satisfied me when my garden efforts were stymied. An account of an American who eventually gets to know his new neighbors in a small village in France, I think “French Dirt” is better than the more well-known books by Peter Mayle.
I spent a lot of the summer reading “Eragon” and its sequel “Eldest”. If you haven’t heard of the phenomenon of Christopher Paolini, wunderkind author of these popular books about dragons, just remember: the book is always better than the movie.
As fall approached, I chose to honor September 11 by reading one of the first authors to deal with 9/11 through fiction. Jonathan Safran Foer, also hailed as something of a wunderkind for his first novel “Everything is Illuminated”, maintains his unique style in “Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close.” The title alone speaks volumes. The narration belongs to precocious Oskar Schell who lost his father in the Twin Towers.
For Halloween, I re-discovered a childhood favorite by Judith Viorst. Many people know her from “Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day”, but my brother and I also loved one we found at the Green Free as kids. It’s another long title which is just as much fun as the book – “My Mama Says There Aren’t Any Zombies, Ghosts, Vampires, Creatures, Demons, Monsters, Fiends, Goblins, or Things.”
In November, I saw an interview with Stephen King about his newest book, “Lisey’s Story.” He drew a parallel between writing novels and playing baseball – sometimes it’s a base hit, sometimes a homerun. He felt “Lisey’s Story” is the best he’s done in years. I agree.
Currently, I’m thrilled that Jeff Shaara’s detailed historical fiction, “To the Last Man”, about World War I, is out in paperback. As I’m reading, certain names and facts jump out at me as things I had to memorize in school, but now the pieces of the war I know so little about are coming together.
Here’s hoping Santa filled your stocking with some great books, and that you find time to read in the coming year. Happy holidays!
Young Elizabeth Had A Farm ....
Kasey Cox
Elizabeth Angier is a fourth-grader who lives on a farm. She helps her parents weed the large vegetable garden, dye skeins of wool from their sheep, arrange wildflowers into bouquets to be sold at the farmers’ market, and water the saplings that landscapers buy. Will, the high school boy from the dairy farm over the hill, comes over to help her dad on occasion. Elizabeth loves everything about growing up on the farm that has been in her father’s family for many generations. But all this threatens to change: a company that runs “CAFO” (Concentrated Feeding Animal Organizations) pig farms arrives to woo struggling farmers into selling their farms and taking jobs with the large corporation. As Elizabeth’s parents desperately research the effects of existing CAFO’s on a community’s air, water, commerce, and quality of life, Elizabeth herself discovers her own connection to the earth and the powers that gives her. Gaia, the spirit of the Earth, appears to her as an otter, and begins to teach her.
That’s just a brief synopsis of Gaia Girls: Enter the Earth, recent winner of the 2006 National Outdoor Book Award, children’s division. Although this is a fantastical novel that author Lee Welles has written for children (“ages 9 and up”), many parts of the story ring true for communities like ours. Gaia Girls: Enter the Earth takes place on a farm in upstate New York, near the Finger Lakes. Much of it reads like home, the beauty as well as the struggles.
Although I consider myself sympathetic to environmental activists, I am leary of being lumped in with folks who wear hemp and eat vegetarian because it’s trendy. In sitting down to read Gaia Girls, I was a little afraid that the story would be heavy-handed on earth goddesses but skim over the true difficulties of living environmentally-aware. I am pleased to report I couldn’t have been more wrong. “Three Oaks Farm” is an organic farm, but Welles makes it clear that this makes the Angier family and their products unusual for their community. They need to be very creative to be successful: they advertise their organic produce to upscale restaurants, who pre-order from the farm. Another way they make money is by selling many different products: wool, vegetables, flowers, young trees, honey. Though Elizabeth and her parents feel they live a happy life in a corner of paradise, Welles doesn’t flinch from showing how fragile that existence is, and how much work it takes to maintain it.
Welles’ writing is strong. At the beginning, I was reminded of Charlotte’s Web. As I continued to read Gaia Girls, I realized I was in the middle of a wonderful new literary phenomenon. I see this book, and the series to follow, touching many as it touched me. Enter the Earth reminded me of environmental issues and earth science facts that I already know about, but made me feel more attached to them. Without being preachy, Gaia Girls helps the reader see the science behind farming methods that are good for the earth, and how it is healthy for the people who live there and those of us who eat the food grown there. With Elizabeth, we can connect to the farm, as she and the farm connect to the earth. I raced through the book, loved the story, and can’t wait for more.
Elizabeth Angier is a fourth-grader who lives on a farm. She helps her parents weed the large vegetable garden, dye skeins of wool from their sheep, arrange wildflowers into bouquets to be sold at the farmers’ market, and water the saplings that landscapers buy. Will, the high school boy from the dairy farm over the hill, comes over to help her dad on occasion. Elizabeth loves everything about growing up on the farm that has been in her father’s family for many generations. But all this threatens to change: a company that runs “CAFO” (Concentrated Feeding Animal Organizations) pig farms arrives to woo struggling farmers into selling their farms and taking jobs with the large corporation. As Elizabeth’s parents desperately research the effects of existing CAFO’s on a community’s air, water, commerce, and quality of life, Elizabeth herself discovers her own connection to the earth and the powers that gives her. Gaia, the spirit of the Earth, appears to her as an otter, and begins to teach her.
That’s just a brief synopsis of Gaia Girls: Enter the Earth, recent winner of the 2006 National Outdoor Book Award, children’s division. Although this is a fantastical novel that author Lee Welles has written for children (“ages 9 and up”), many parts of the story ring true for communities like ours. Gaia Girls: Enter the Earth takes place on a farm in upstate New York, near the Finger Lakes. Much of it reads like home, the beauty as well as the struggles.
Although I consider myself sympathetic to environmental activists, I am leary of being lumped in with folks who wear hemp and eat vegetarian because it’s trendy. In sitting down to read Gaia Girls, I was a little afraid that the story would be heavy-handed on earth goddesses but skim over the true difficulties of living environmentally-aware. I am pleased to report I couldn’t have been more wrong. “Three Oaks Farm” is an organic farm, but Welles makes it clear that this makes the Angier family and their products unusual for their community. They need to be very creative to be successful: they advertise their organic produce to upscale restaurants, who pre-order from the farm. Another way they make money is by selling many different products: wool, vegetables, flowers, young trees, honey. Though Elizabeth and her parents feel they live a happy life in a corner of paradise, Welles doesn’t flinch from showing how fragile that existence is, and how much work it takes to maintain it.
Welles’ writing is strong. At the beginning, I was reminded of Charlotte’s Web. As I continued to read Gaia Girls, I realized I was in the middle of a wonderful new literary phenomenon. I see this book, and the series to follow, touching many as it touched me. Enter the Earth reminded me of environmental issues and earth science facts that I already know about, but made me feel more attached to them. Without being preachy, Gaia Girls helps the reader see the science behind farming methods that are good for the earth, and how it is healthy for the people who live there and those of us who eat the food grown there. With Elizabeth, we can connect to the farm, as she and the farm connect to the earth. I raced through the book, loved the story, and can’t wait for more.
The Gift of Gilbert
Let me tell you a feel-good story. It involves love – the love of a mother for her daughter, and a child’s passionate, exhilarated, uncomplicated love for books. This is the true story of Deb Raymer, and her daughter Sabrina, and how I came to know them. This holiday season, I am grateful that Deb has shared parts of her story, and that through her mom, Sabrina has shared a wonderful cast of characters previously unknown to me.
A couple of months ago, Deb asked me to help her find a series of books. All Sabrina wants for Christmas is “Gilbert”. Deb needed to order multiple copies of each book in the collection, she explained. Sabrina loves the “Gilbert” books so much, that she reads them to pieces. Literally. While I am always thrilled to see someone who loves books that much, that’s not even the best part of the story. Sabrina is mentally and physically handicapped. She has a job at Partners in Progress that she enjoys. Whenever she rides to work on the bus, she has a “Gilbert” book – or two, or three – in her bag, and she “reads” them to the other passengers. Sabrina has memorized her favorite books. Her mother needs to keep buying new copies of them because Sabrina pages through them so much and so often that they fall apart.
Gilbert, the hedgehog, and his sister Lola, are creations from the paintbrush and pen of Diane de Groat. This author/illustrator started working in children’s literature by doing the artwork for some well-known children’s authors, such as Lois Lowry and Eve Bunting. De Groat started on her Gilbert series in 1996 with “Roses are Pink, Your Feet Really Stink”, which is still Sabrina’s favorite.
I hadn’t heard of de Groat, and Deb gave my literary ego a boost by reassuring me that I’m not alone. Often, when Deb and Sabrina have searched for Gilbert in libraries and bookstores, he is nowhere to be found. So, it’s time to spread the word. Diane de Groat has created a fun, inexpensive series with sympathetic characters, situations that kids can relate to, and a little lesson that doesn’t come across like a 2”x 4” to the forehead. The titles themselves produce a smile for kids and adults alike. Now there’s a Gilbert for every season in a child’s life. A reader can start school with Gilbert in “Brand New Pencils, Brand New Books” and end the school year with the companion volume, “No More Pencils, No More Books! No More Teacher’s Dirty Looks!” In these final months of the year, we have been enjoying “We Gather Together, Now Please Get Lost” for Thanksgiving, and “Jingle Bells, Homework Smells” for Christmas.
The Gilbert books have been so successful that now his sister Lola has her own series, books for slightly younger children, that often include Gilbert, but from Lola’s point-of-view. When Lola can’t decide what to be for Halloween, she finally decides to be “a Gilbert”, because she knows he’s an original. I think Sabrina and Lola are on to something good.
A couple of months ago, Deb asked me to help her find a series of books. All Sabrina wants for Christmas is “Gilbert”. Deb needed to order multiple copies of each book in the collection, she explained. Sabrina loves the “Gilbert” books so much, that she reads them to pieces. Literally. While I am always thrilled to see someone who loves books that much, that’s not even the best part of the story. Sabrina is mentally and physically handicapped. She has a job at Partners in Progress that she enjoys. Whenever she rides to work on the bus, she has a “Gilbert” book – or two, or three – in her bag, and she “reads” them to the other passengers. Sabrina has memorized her favorite books. Her mother needs to keep buying new copies of them because Sabrina pages through them so much and so often that they fall apart.
Gilbert, the hedgehog, and his sister Lola, are creations from the paintbrush and pen of Diane de Groat. This author/illustrator started working in children’s literature by doing the artwork for some well-known children’s authors, such as Lois Lowry and Eve Bunting. De Groat started on her Gilbert series in 1996 with “Roses are Pink, Your Feet Really Stink”, which is still Sabrina’s favorite.
I hadn’t heard of de Groat, and Deb gave my literary ego a boost by reassuring me that I’m not alone. Often, when Deb and Sabrina have searched for Gilbert in libraries and bookstores, he is nowhere to be found. So, it’s time to spread the word. Diane de Groat has created a fun, inexpensive series with sympathetic characters, situations that kids can relate to, and a little lesson that doesn’t come across like a 2”x 4” to the forehead. The titles themselves produce a smile for kids and adults alike. Now there’s a Gilbert for every season in a child’s life. A reader can start school with Gilbert in “Brand New Pencils, Brand New Books” and end the school year with the companion volume, “No More Pencils, No More Books! No More Teacher’s Dirty Looks!” In these final months of the year, we have been enjoying “We Gather Together, Now Please Get Lost” for Thanksgiving, and “Jingle Bells, Homework Smells” for Christmas.
The Gilbert books have been so successful that now his sister Lola has her own series, books for slightly younger children, that often include Gilbert, but from Lola’s point-of-view. When Lola can’t decide what to be for Halloween, she finally decides to be “a Gilbert”, because she knows he’s an original. I think Sabrina and Lola are on to something good.
Quality Zombie Literature? Inquiring Readers Want to Know!
Kasey Cox
The road to zombies is, evidently, a more slippery slope than I’d realized. Recently, I was in a Hamilton-Gibson ten-minute piece in which I played a dead person. The character opposite me was a bloody dead guy. At the opening night party, several of us got to laughing about how there just aren’t enough plays where an actor gets to be a bloody dead guy. How we need some quality theater written about zombies. Imagine the witty dialogue-- Zombie #1: Mmmnnnggghhh! Zombie #2: Gnnrrrrrrr! There’s some quality literature! Ha ha ha ha ha ….
Who knew how soon I would have to eat those sarcastic words (better than eating flesh, giggle-snort). On September 6, Max Brooks published his novel World War Z. “Z” in this case, is short for “Zombie”. I started reading it soon after, thinking it’d be funny. I mean, zombie movies are mostly pretty cheesy, right?
I’ve never seen Romero’s “Night of the Living Dead”, or any of the films that followed. Certainly, I’ve read my share of Stephen King, and watched my share of slasher flicks. As a teen, I have to being somewhat scared by Freddie Kruger. But I was never a Goth girl, never into Anne Rice, and only watched “Resident Evil” because my boyfriend at the time had played the video game and wanted to see the film.
I picked up this novel because I thought it ironic to have just been joking about “zombie literature”, and because I like survival stories. There are two post-apocalyptic, society-is-utterly-changed-by-sudden-catastrophe books that moved me and stayed with me over time. One is Stephen King’s novel, The Stand (and for goodness’ sake, read the book; don’t see the mediocre movie!). The other was Whitley Strieber and James Kunetka’s War Day. Both amazing stories came from sources I’d not expected. Third time’s a charm, I guess.
World War Z surprised me. The writing grabbed me, and not the cheesy way a ghoulish hand from under the bed grabs the stupid heroine in a horror movie. I found the structure of the novel intriguing: Brooks shares the story of World War Z by “interviewing” the survivors ten years after “the Crisis” has passed. The interviewees are people who were, at the time, doctors, children, government officials, military grunts, cyberpunks, pilots, gardeners at fancy international resorts. They are Americans, Chinese, Russian, Mexican, Korean, British, French, Australian. While this style of storytelling is not completely original, it is compelling. I stopped chortling about reading about zombies (of all things! not serious literature, of course!), and started hearing what Max Brooks understands about humanity – as a whole, and as individuals.
I thought he had some profound insights about resilience and depravity, about the bald cruelty of survival tactics and the ridiculous amount of luxury we think of as necessity. Most of all, as someone who has fought my own version of life-or-death demons, I really agreed with what Brooks says about hope. Pick the book up yourself, and see if you don’t find it hard to put down. Max Brooks may be a bit odd – he is the son of Mel Brooks, the director of many tongue-in-cheek films – but the writing here hits many issues right on the head. That’s the only way to kill the undead, or the critics, if you can tell them apart.
The road to zombies is, evidently, a more slippery slope than I’d realized. Recently, I was in a Hamilton-Gibson ten-minute piece in which I played a dead person. The character opposite me was a bloody dead guy. At the opening night party, several of us got to laughing about how there just aren’t enough plays where an actor gets to be a bloody dead guy. How we need some quality theater written about zombies. Imagine the witty dialogue-- Zombie #1: Mmmnnnggghhh! Zombie #2: Gnnrrrrrrr! There’s some quality literature! Ha ha ha ha ha ….
Who knew how soon I would have to eat those sarcastic words (better than eating flesh, giggle-snort). On September 6, Max Brooks published his novel World War Z. “Z” in this case, is short for “Zombie”. I started reading it soon after, thinking it’d be funny. I mean, zombie movies are mostly pretty cheesy, right?
I’ve never seen Romero’s “Night of the Living Dead”, or any of the films that followed. Certainly, I’ve read my share of Stephen King, and watched my share of slasher flicks. As a teen, I have to being somewhat scared by Freddie Kruger. But I was never a Goth girl, never into Anne Rice, and only watched “Resident Evil” because my boyfriend at the time had played the video game and wanted to see the film.
I picked up this novel because I thought it ironic to have just been joking about “zombie literature”, and because I like survival stories. There are two post-apocalyptic, society-is-utterly-changed-by-sudden-catastrophe books that moved me and stayed with me over time. One is Stephen King’s novel, The Stand (and for goodness’ sake, read the book; don’t see the mediocre movie!). The other was Whitley Strieber and James Kunetka’s War Day. Both amazing stories came from sources I’d not expected. Third time’s a charm, I guess.
World War Z surprised me. The writing grabbed me, and not the cheesy way a ghoulish hand from under the bed grabs the stupid heroine in a horror movie. I found the structure of the novel intriguing: Brooks shares the story of World War Z by “interviewing” the survivors ten years after “the Crisis” has passed. The interviewees are people who were, at the time, doctors, children, government officials, military grunts, cyberpunks, pilots, gardeners at fancy international resorts. They are Americans, Chinese, Russian, Mexican, Korean, British, French, Australian. While this style of storytelling is not completely original, it is compelling. I stopped chortling about reading about zombies (of all things! not serious literature, of course!), and started hearing what Max Brooks understands about humanity – as a whole, and as individuals.
I thought he had some profound insights about resilience and depravity, about the bald cruelty of survival tactics and the ridiculous amount of luxury we think of as necessity. Most of all, as someone who has fought my own version of life-or-death demons, I really agreed with what Brooks says about hope. Pick the book up yourself, and see if you don’t find it hard to put down. Max Brooks may be a bit odd – he is the son of Mel Brooks, the director of many tongue-in-cheek films – but the writing here hits many issues right on the head. That’s the only way to kill the undead, or the critics, if you can tell them apart.
What's Lurking in PA on any given Dark Haunted Day....
Kasey Cox
What is it about Halloween and ghost stories that turns us all into kids? Just looking at the covers of local author William Robertson’s two spooky story collections makes me want to grin like a jack o’lantern and cackle like a witch. Lurking in Pennsylvania features a cover photo of two fawns in a patch of trees – a photo that was probably high in the “awwwww….” factor (as in, “awww, aren’t they sweet?) before the addition of a demonic glow in the eyes of the Bambi twins. (This is probably a much more accurate portrayal, many gardeners will be happy to let you know.)
Robertson’s newest collection, Dark Haunted Day, displays another familiar northern Pennsylvania scene, that of the weathered farmhouse surrounded by stark trees. This cover is in black and white, as are the rest of the photos scattered throughout the book to accompany various stories. Not that it would matter much if the photos were in color, because for many months of the year, and at several times of the day, this is the way our landscapes look. In both his introduction and with the tone of his stories, this Potter County author speaks to the way the atmosphere affects those of us who call this area home. The author remarks that although this climate causes bouts of depression in some people, for him it has inspired the creative spark that allows him to present us with stories, poems and pictures that bring that childlike pleasure in scaring yourself.
Indeed, as I read through the offerings of these two books, I connected most with the stories about kids. The very first one I read was “Rescue at the Devil’s Den”, which combines Robertson’s two greatest strengths – his knowledge about the Pennsylvania Civil War unit known as the Bucktails, and his writing for children. Bill Robertson marches with the local re-enactment unit of the Bucktails, and has penned five wonderful books on the subject. With co-author David Rimer, Robertson writes about the experiences the young men of northern Pennsylvania had while fighting with the Bucktails. Obviously, Robertson draws on these writings, and adds a supernatural twist in creating some of his horror stories. The Boy Scout who is stranded up in Devil’s Den on a tour of the Gettysburg Battlefield makes out far better in his encounter with the spirit of a soldier than does the photographer who hasn’t been paying child support in the appropriately titled, “Bad Things Happen to Bad Men.”
Another thrill came from hearing Rob Kathcart give an animated reading of “Mrs. Babcock’s ABC’s” to a young audience who shrieked in delight as second-grader Perry finds at the truth about his “evil” teacher and principal. And children as well as adults should enjoy the fact that in many stories, ghosts get their revenge on people who deserve it – hunters who needlessly and brutally kill over their legal limit of deer; a home repairman taking advantage of an old widow; the editor of a magazine who enjoys sending rejection letters. Although occasionally Robertson’s dialogue or style is a little stilted, these two books on the whole offer countless nuggets of enjoyment. I encourage Gazette readers who are looking to share a thrill: support a local author, turn off the lights and read aloud by firelight what’s Lurking in Pennsylvania on any given Dark Haunted Day.
What is it about Halloween and ghost stories that turns us all into kids? Just looking at the covers of local author William Robertson’s two spooky story collections makes me want to grin like a jack o’lantern and cackle like a witch. Lurking in Pennsylvania features a cover photo of two fawns in a patch of trees – a photo that was probably high in the “awwwww….” factor (as in, “awww, aren’t they sweet?) before the addition of a demonic glow in the eyes of the Bambi twins. (This is probably a much more accurate portrayal, many gardeners will be happy to let you know.)
Robertson’s newest collection, Dark Haunted Day, displays another familiar northern Pennsylvania scene, that of the weathered farmhouse surrounded by stark trees. This cover is in black and white, as are the rest of the photos scattered throughout the book to accompany various stories. Not that it would matter much if the photos were in color, because for many months of the year, and at several times of the day, this is the way our landscapes look. In both his introduction and with the tone of his stories, this Potter County author speaks to the way the atmosphere affects those of us who call this area home. The author remarks that although this climate causes bouts of depression in some people, for him it has inspired the creative spark that allows him to present us with stories, poems and pictures that bring that childlike pleasure in scaring yourself.
Indeed, as I read through the offerings of these two books, I connected most with the stories about kids. The very first one I read was “Rescue at the Devil’s Den”, which combines Robertson’s two greatest strengths – his knowledge about the Pennsylvania Civil War unit known as the Bucktails, and his writing for children. Bill Robertson marches with the local re-enactment unit of the Bucktails, and has penned five wonderful books on the subject. With co-author David Rimer, Robertson writes about the experiences the young men of northern Pennsylvania had while fighting with the Bucktails. Obviously, Robertson draws on these writings, and adds a supernatural twist in creating some of his horror stories. The Boy Scout who is stranded up in Devil’s Den on a tour of the Gettysburg Battlefield makes out far better in his encounter with the spirit of a soldier than does the photographer who hasn’t been paying child support in the appropriately titled, “Bad Things Happen to Bad Men.”
Another thrill came from hearing Rob Kathcart give an animated reading of “Mrs. Babcock’s ABC’s” to a young audience who shrieked in delight as second-grader Perry finds at the truth about his “evil” teacher and principal. And children as well as adults should enjoy the fact that in many stories, ghosts get their revenge on people who deserve it – hunters who needlessly and brutally kill over their legal limit of deer; a home repairman taking advantage of an old widow; the editor of a magazine who enjoys sending rejection letters. Although occasionally Robertson’s dialogue or style is a little stilted, these two books on the whole offer countless nuggets of enjoyment. I encourage Gazette readers who are looking to share a thrill: support a local author, turn off the lights and read aloud by firelight what’s Lurking in Pennsylvania on any given Dark Haunted Day.
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