Merry Wanderer of the Night:
childhood faves

I know that in a previous Memory Monday Post, I talked about Willo Davis Roberts, and the impact she had on me as an author. (in my blog to read it. It's hysterically funny.) But, I talked about her writing in very general terms. Today, I want to talk about one book in particular that was a big deal for me.

I've always been super nerdy when it comes to books. I love making my own book lists, reading books from specific award lists, etc. So, when I learned in 4th grade (I think) that there was a contest of sorts where you were to write in with the number of mystery books you had read to 'win' I signed up! I kicked myself for days after sending in my list because I kept thinking of more and more that I had read and forgotten to put down, but I guess 9 is still a lot for a 4th grader because I won! I won a certificate along with my very first signed book, Twisted Summer by Willo Davis Roberts.

I cannot even begin to describe what it felt like to look down at that book and see that signature, knowing that the woman who wrote this book, whose books I had been reading and loving for years had TOUCHED MY BOOK. Seriously. Whoa.

I was going to take a picture, because I still have both the book and the certificate, but I can't find my camera. Perhaps another time.

But honestly, for a 4th grader who has loved books her whole life, that was the greatest, most amazing moment. I wish I had been more careful with the book, but it was one of my favorites of hers and I read it over and over. It's not in awesome shape anymore, but it is definitely a book I will keep and treasure forever.

(I mean, seriously!! 4th grader getting a SIGNED book from their favorite author?! AMAZING!!)

Today's Memory Monday post is a bit different from the norm. Rather than taking a specific reading memory, in spirit of Just Contemporary month, I want to spotlight some Contemporary reads for kids that I think could really draw them in and introduce them to the awesomeness that is Contemporary Lit at a young age. And next week, I'm going to list some of my favorite older YA Contemps to pull in those more reluctant/hesitant older readers.:)

Many of these are books that I have mentioned before, some of them even have entire Memory Monday posts already (they are linked). But this is a reference-type list so that all these awesome Contemps for kids are in one place. (There are many more books that fully deserve to be on this list, but I had to have some limits...)

First is Where the Red Fern Grows by Wilson Rawls. This is an older book, and it's actually set even farther back than that. It's never specifically mentioned in a timeline, but I get the feeling that the book takes place somewhere between the 30s and 50s. So while it's not actually Contemporary, it is Realistic fiction and it's the book that changed what reading meant for me. This was the first book that really hit me and taught me that there was more to reading than just a fun story, or words on a page. I had always loved books, but this book is what really taught me what it means to read.

Willo Davis Roberts is another great writer who really appeals to kids. I devoured her books. She made me believe that I could be amazing. The young kids in her stories were always the heroes and the most frightfully amazing things happened to them. It sparked my imagination and I had wildly exciting day dreams and my barbies had the most interesting lives, partly because of these books. (My mom was also terrified that I'd manage to get myself kidnapped because I believed so strongly in these kids, and just knew that I could handle it myself). But she fanned my love of reading and I don't know any kids that don't love to hear about how much smarter kids are than adults... :)

The Babysitter's Club by Ann M. Martin is a series I inhaled. I used to check out 15-20 of these books at a time and have them all back to the library within two weeks, usually faster. They were exciting and real and I so wanted to have my own babysitters club, once I was old enough to babysit. (I started reading them in 2nd grade, so...) The girls in these stories weren't perfect. They lied, fought, made mistakes, and there were always consequences. But they learned from them within their short little stories and became better babysitters, better friends and better people because of them, and I know that some of the lessons I learned in these books helped shape the person I am.

Sharon Creech so totally deserves a place on this list as well. Her stories are about growing up, facing challenges, accepting new experiences and just learning from life. They are told with that frank honesty of a childhood with that raw emotion of true knowledge of life. I can't even begin to describe how strongly I loved Sharon Creech, and still do, actually. Hers are stories that never get old.

Although I didn't read as much of them as my peers did, Judy Blume and Beverly Cleary are both great Contemporary writers. Beverly with her Ramona series and Judy with those Fudge books speak to that younger kid and seem able to use an age appropriate writing style to justify and validate what these kids are going through before they really have the words to explain it themselves.

If the kid in your life is able to handle more mature topics in their stories, I cannot recommend Cynthia Voigt's Tillerman saga enough. I know that I have talked about these books before, but they were a hugely important part of my growing up and formative reading years. I think these books helped me to understand the difference between putting on a brave/false front and true strength. Dicey had to be strong for her siblings. She had to grow up faster than any child ever should and even though I was her age or younger when reading these books, I was so incredibly proud of her.

Maniac Magee by Jerri Spinelli has an element of myth or fantasy to it even though nothing magical or fantastical happens. But the title character of the story has that sort of impact on people, even though he's young. There is much that a kid can learn from this story, but it is also a wonderful story, wonderfully told that will appeal to all sorts of kids, interested in all sorts of reading.

Sonya Sones writes in free verse and, if I'm remembering right, she was my first verse novelist. Her books are geared more in the tween spot, I believe, for those who are no longer children, but still not quite into their teens (11-14 or so). Because of the verse, the books read quickly but the stories lose none of their emotion or depth because of the sparsity of the writing. An easy read for those reluctant to pick up a book but still phenomenal stories.

Shiloh and Hatchet are both well written stories that appeal to younger kids, boys especially. Shiloh is about loving a dog and learning to protect creatures weaker than ourselves (and it's a dog book where the dog doesn't die!!) and Hatchet is a story of wilderness survival and strength.

Betsy Byars writes some fun MG Contemporary and she was my 10 year old brothers very favorite author for a long time (his personal favorite was The Cybil War) and both Andrew Clements and Gordon Korman write some really fun stories as well (I especially loved No Talked and No More Dead Dogs respectively).

Rules by Cynthia Lord is about a young girl whose brother is autistic and she struggles with appearances a lot throughout the novel. But it's a wonderfully sweet story that I absolutely adored. Very deserving of its Newbery Honor.

E.L. Konigsburg writes some very real characters, even if they aren't in very real situations. Like the characters in her Mixed Up Files who end up running away from home and spending the night in a museum (among other things). But her books, especially The View from Saturday were amazing reading experiences for me.

I could go on and on. There are so many wonderful books out there, so much amazing Contemporary for kids. Do you have any favorites? Books that made you love Contemporary as a kid? Contemps that kids you know love? Let me know!! Leave a comment letting me know if you've read any of the books I've listed and/or if you know of any I've missed!

I thought it fitting that my first Memory Monday during the month of November would be a look back at the Contemporary books I read as a young kid that really influenced me and had made me a lover of Contemporary YA from a very young age.

When I was younger, I loved Willo Davis Roberts. She wrote these awesome mystery/thriller type novels where the protagonists were my own age and they were awesome. They were the reason that my mom was terrified to leave ten year old Ashley alone because when she told me I was not allowed to open the front door to people I didn't know while she was gone, I informed her that it wasn't a big deal, because if they were bad, I could just shut the door really fast. O_o Instead, the rule was that I was just not allowed to answer a knock while mom was gone, period. (I have a whole Memory Monday talking about just Willo Davis Roberts here. And for realz... it's a rather funny story).

But in the course of reading about these young kids totally outsmarting the bad guys, I also read a book by WDR called Sugar Isn't Everything. It's about a young girl, maybe 10 or 11 if I remember right, who develops diabetes. At first she doesn't know what's going on. She has very little energy, craves juices and candies and feels miserable and sick and run down. Her parents take her to the doctor and she is no longer allowed to eat sweet things, and I don't remember for sure (I read this in 4th or 5th grade, so...) but I think she needs insulin shots. There is a scene in the book where she is at a football game with her two best girl friends, and she leaves for a few minutes. When she's on her way back, she hears her friends giggling and she watches a snickers bar wrapper float down from where they were sitting. Ashley's little girl heart = broken.

Then, I found Cynthia Voigt. I don't remember exactly how I discovered Cynthia Voigt (although I strongly suspect it was a book stolen borrowed from my sister's library pile, who, incidentally is also named Cynthia [and come to think about it, might also have been the reason I was so keen to read these books]) However... I digress. While I don't remember the details of the finding, I do remember the first time I read Cynthia Voigt's Tillerman Saga. It was one of my first experiences with a mental illness and it completely changed the way I viewed life, reading, books, stories, people, and myself. In Homecoming, Dicey's mom packs up her four kids, leaves their little shack on the beach and starts to drive to her cousin's house because she recognizes that she desperately needs help in every way. But on the way, Mama stops at a mall, tells the kids she'll be back shortly and then disappears. This leaves young Dicey (somewhere between 11 and 13) in a terrible position. They have almost no money, very little food and a long way to go. So they walk. This young, young girl gets her three younger siblings motivated and they walk. They walk across states to get to their aunt or cousins house. And they make it. THEY MAKE IT. But things still aren't good there. The person who takes them in wants to civilize Dicey, turn James into a priest, play Barbie doll with Maybell and send Sammie off to reform school (who, by the way is only like 5 or 6). Splitting up the family is unacceptable to Dicey, and the others so she begins to formulate a plan, once again, to keep the family they have left safe and together.

The Saga continues, continuing over seven books and telling the stories of not only Dicey and her siblings, but also other characters we meet or who are referenced along the way. And let me tell you, it is a powerful set of stories. The stuff these characters face, the things they go through it painful and raw and so full of emotional truths that it took my breath away. I didn't know writing could be like this. And I devoured these books. All seven of them, more than once.

Sharon Creech was also a huge part of my early reading and I just absolutely loved her. Still do actually. I just finished a reread of my favorite Creech, Walk Two Moons and I love it just as much now as I did then. The experience reading this would have been vastly different had I read it for the first time when I was older, (mostly that I would have seen things coming that caught me completely by surprise as a kid) but I still loved it this time around, I still cried, still ached for Sal, wondering why she wasn't enough to keep her mother around, still cringed at the awkwardly embarrassing things Phoebe and Sal did together, groaned at Ben's awkwardly endearing attempts to kiss Sal, laughed myself silly at the crazy antics of Gramps and Gran and just fell in love with the book all over again. But Creech has other wonderful books, and other favorites included Chasing Redbird and Bloomability and The Wanderer with Absolutely Normal Choas being pretty awesome too. I've read more of her recent stories now that I'm older and I gotta tell you — Creech is still made of WIN. (Read my Memory Monday post all about Sharon Creech here)

I also loved The Babysitter's Club. I've already posted about that in a Memory Monday as well, but once again, I loved that this could be real. My girlfriends and I decided that once we were old enough to babysit, we would form our own Babysitter's Club, and it would be great. (It never happened, since I moved before I was really old enough to babysit and I wasn't really interested in the series anymore when I was old enough.)

And then, one of my largest reading phases was Mary Higgins Clark. Oh how I loved Mary Higgins Clark. I know that technically her genre is mystery/thriller, but it's also very definitely realistic fiction and I was obsessed. I inhaled her books, all of them and just buzzed with the reality of serial killers, the potential to be buried alive (which has always been one of my personal nightmares and only got worse after reading Moonlight Becomes You) and the knowledge that anyone out there could have a hidden side to themselves.

I could go on and on. Contemporary Fiction has always been a huge part of what I read. I have always loved it and gravitated toward it. There is something about reading about people who could be me, or who I could meet on the street that just calls to me, just really gets to me. I love it. And even as a young kid, I was drawn to Contemporary and a lot of the time, even when I was young, I was really drawn to those heartbreakingly real and achy stories.

So yes. Contemporary is my genre, now and forever. There are other genres that I love but nothing will ever replace Contemporary.

What better bookish memory to talk about on Halloween than R.L. Stine?! Seriously. When I was a kid he was the big deal. In 5th and 6th grade, all the kids I knew were reading R.L. Stine. We were too 'old and mature' to read the silly old Goosebumps books, but those Fear Street stories were deliciously creepy and freaky, especially because really, for the most part, it was stuff that could actually happen. No creepy nasties under the bed. Oh no. We are talking psycho crazy best friends, stalkers, wannabees and more. Some of them did dabble a bit into the paranormal, but it was all much more subtle in the Fear Street series than in Goosebumps.

I remember reading his Seniors series. One of the girls in the Fear Street senior class has a vision, of all the seniors lying in coffins by graduation day. Some people believe her, because apparently (if I'm remembering right) her family has a history of eerily accurate visions, but a lot of people scoff. And then, one by one, the seniors do start dying. The beginning of each book includes a 'yearbook page' with all the senior pictures. And with each new book, more and more of their pictures are altered as the students die.

There were 12 books, and I read 10 of them. This is the only series to date that I remember knowingly reading out of order. The books were in such high demand by all the morbid 5th and 6th graders out there, just itching to get their hands on the books that if you waited to read them in order, you'd never get a chance to read them at all. But I did resist the last book in the series, wanting the conclusion to be the actual conclusion. But book 10 never came and never came, and then I moved and no one in Idaho seemed to be as consumed with the thrill of R.L. Stine the way the kids in Western Washington were and the library didn't carry the series and I couldn't find the books and so I just... never finished reading them. I still don't know if the whole senior class ended up dead. I have no idea how it ended. And ya. It bugs.

Any of you read R.L. Stine? What about the Seniors series? For how popular I remember them being as a kid, I have met very, very few people since then that have heard of them, let alone read them. Makes me wonder if I exaggerate their popularity in my mind, but somehow doubt I could be misrecollecting the annoyance when non of the books were on the shelves, or the only one you could find was the one you'd read three books ago or who incredibly exciting it was to find a new one sitting there, just waiting to be snatched, read and inhaled by you!! Don't ask my why, when I had my library card memorized by age 9 because I put so many book on hold, I didn't think to put these books on hold, because I couldn't tell you. But I can tell you that the searching, the looking and the finding was so exciting, almost as much fun as reading the books themselves. This is definitely a series I'm going to have to revisit. Maybe I'll actually read them in order this time. At the very least, now that I can't remember any of their names or stories, at least I'll know if someone manages to escape the vision.

There were always a lot of books at my house growing up and the books ranged from the youngest picture books to heavy adult books. My parents have a really pretty collection of leather bound books that I used to sit and just stare at.

There were a lot of picture books around my house and I used to simply love going through them and reading them. A lot I 'read' for the first time when I was far to you to recognize even basic words, but I loved them just the same. And when I learned to read for real and was able to figure out for myself where the stories went? Love.

One of the picture book 'series' that was frequently at my house, both because we owned a bunch and because we'd get them from the library were the Berenstain Bears books written by Stan and Jan Berenstain. I loved the stories of Brother and Sister.

It wasn't until I was much older that I started realizing the books were actually quite useful as teaching tools. Don't ask me how I missed it before, but with names like The Berenstain Bears and the Messy Room, or The Berenstain Bears Get the Gimmies and The Berenstain Bears and Too Much TV the messages seem to me now to be kind of hard to miss. (And I will say that my parent's reaction to the 'gimmies' at the grocery store was much better. In the book, Mama & Papa end up buying a treat every time they go to the store, but only one. At my house, if you threw a giant fit in the grocery store, Mom would leave her full cart of groceries in the middle of the aisle, leave the store and you just knew you were SO busted. And I tell you what — it only ever had to happen once)

But I digress.

I remember reading The Berenstain Bears and the Sitter and thinking it was so ominous. This big mean lady come to watch the children. And I remember finishing the book and still finding the cover and the idea to be unpleasant, even though she really ends up being a nice woman. (As a related [ish] side note, I was really hard on babysitters...)

There are so many stories to read and so many adventures to have with these two cubs. There are stories for every occasion, every holiday and every... parenting crisis a person can think of and it just makes me happy to think of these books again. They remind me of being young, of sitting around and seeing books left lying on the floor (along with Mercer Meyer's Little Critter Books, but more on those later) and I have all kinds of fun memories of growing up tied to these books.

Anyone else remember reading these? And did you know you were being 'taught' when you were younger, or does that come as a surprise to you to?

Banned Books Week is coming up soon, and I decided that it would be fun/awesome to have some Memory Monday posts about banned books that I remember reading and loving as a kid.

When I was younger (early elementary school) my older sister (2 1/2 years older) belonged to a book club at her school. That was the most grown up think I could think of at the time (other than real grown up stuff, like jobs and houses and all that stuff) and I was in awe. This also meant that I stole the books she brought home behind her back, because she hated that I would steal borrow them. (I only wanted to be like her...)

Anyway, one of the books she brought home was Annette Curtis Klause's Blood and Chocolate. Now, I'm not sure if any of you have read it. And what you think of it is largely going to depend on personal preferences, age you read it etc. But I love that book. Like, a lot. I don't even really like paranormal (partly because it all feels incredibly the same to me) but this was my very first werewolf story. Ever. And wow. Was it different from what I had previously read.
I've always been an advanced reader. Always. English and language comprehension have always been my highest standardized test scores and I'm really good at contextually figuring out what is happening when I need to. So I understood everything that was going on in this book. And honestly, looking back I'm not sure if that's really a good thing... But that's a whole 'nother story.
As a whole, this book has nothing terribly inappropriate in it for a teenager. But — I read Blood and Chocolate when I was 10, maybe 11. And the content is a little mature for an 11 year old. It's an book geared toward older teens, but I didn't care, because I felt so grown up reading it. I was a little bit scandalized by the many innuendos I came across, especially the few that I was old/mature enough to know were supposed to be, but still too young/inexperienced to fully grasp what they meant.
I've reread this book more than once since then, and I still kind of love it. The story of Vivian is one that can really resonate with a lot of teens, because although none of us are werewolves falling in love with human boys, most teenagers feel like they don't belong in their own skins, in their own lives and that's hard. Vivian simply had a specific and physical difference that she had to live with, so it's easier to see.

I do understand why parents might have a hard time with this one — There are a lot of sexual references (some more on the inappropriate side) as well as quite a bit of swearing, teenage dropouts, crass dialogue etc. But, it's also the story of a bunch of teenage werewolves who sometimes, believe they are better than/above normal humans because they are stronger. But it's also a book that teaches us a lot about what it means to be human and how important personal choices are (both themes that are explored in her vampire novel, The Silver Kiss, which I also love probably even more than this one). It's not a book that's going to be for everyone, but it's definitely one that I'm glad I read, even if I should have waited on it until I was a little older.

I have always loved reading (bet that was a hard one to figure out) but I've also really loved to learn. School was always very fun and rewarding for me, and I just kinda soak up random facts, both relevant and not like a sponge. When I learned that I could combine both reading and learning, I was in nerd heaven. (but whatevs... I was always a cool nerd)

Anyway, I discovered the Dear America series, written about fictional young girls in real periods in history. At least, from what I remember all the girls were fictitious... (Some of them might have been real people, but I don't think so...) I loved these books. Like, so much. I loved them that now, anytime I go into a used bookstore, I try to find copies. Many of them are still in print, but they are paperbacks and the new covers are... not as awesome. But the original books printed were all this gorgeous hardcover with deckled edges and a ribbon bookmark. Beautiful.

And they all had really awesome names like, Across the Wide and Lonesome Prairie, Winter of the Red Snow and I Thought My Soul Would Rise and Fly.

Each of the books were written as if they were the journals of these fictional characters. One girl lived through the sinking of the Titanic, another was a Texas girl during the fight at the Alamo, one was captured by Indians, another a girl living through the Civil War. Each of these 'girls' wrote about her experiences, living through an important part of history. There were so many of these books written and I absolutely loved them.

My parents gave me two for Christmas one year, and I read them over and over and over. I read them so many times, it's been years now, but I'm pretty sure I could still recite passages from them. Standing in the Light:The Captive Diary of Catharine Carey Logan and A Line in the Sand: The Alamo Diary of Lucinda Lawrence. I was initially disappointed, because I had been hoping for the Titanic story (at that age, I was absolutely obsessed with all things Titanic) but my parents knew that I had already read it, and wanted to get me books I had not yet read. And after I read these two, I wanted to know more, so much more about both the Alamo and what it was like for both the Indians and the settlers during the 1700s. And also — I still really miss Snow Hunter.

I also loved that the books have information in the back and what is and isn't historically accurate in the book, as well as additional information that can help guide learning about the time period — real journal entries, images, etc. It was fascinating and I loved every part of these books.

Perhaps this isn't the most coherent and detailed Memory Monday post ever, but this is still most definitely a series that I loved, a series that I continue to love, even though I haven't read any of the books in far too long. It's a series I'll also continue to buy when I see it, in the hopes that my future children will be just as interested in reading as I am.

Side note — There is another series called My Name is America, that is basically the same thing, only for boys, about boys, with boy main characters. I have never read them, because young Ashley reading these did not want to have some boy book, because, well, Duh, girls were the best (see Memory Monday post about Girls Know Best) . But I would like to buy and read them some day, both so that I can learn more about certain time periods, and so that future boy children can read them, in case they feel about girls as I did about boys.: P

Do any of you remember reading the Dear America series? What about My Name is America? I'd love to hear your thoughts on either series if you've read them!:)

I always read the books my parents gave me for Christmas and my birthday. Some of it was because I was genuinely interested in the book and really wanted to read it. Other times it was because I didn't want to hurt their feelings. And still other times it was because I was so bored and so without books to read that I was willing to read whatever was sitting on my shelf.

I used to watch the Winnie-the-Pooh TV show when I was up and it was on, partly because I liked it, but also because it was on. Tigger was my absolute, hands down favorite. I liked some of the other characters, and really didn't like others, but Tigger was my favorite. Because I really liked Tigger, my parents decided that this meant I love all things Tigger...

Because I enjoyed the show, my parents decided to get me The Complete Tales of Winnie the Pooh. I was thrilled! (A book! A big book!) And then, I saw the illustrations. I was so confused! I told my mom they had done it wrong. So I had my first conversation about changes being made to an original work to draw in new audiences and attract new reader (or watcher) ship. I was disappointed. As you can see from the cover, each of the animals in the story look different from what most of us (at least those around my age are used to). While disappointed at first, I did get used to it and now I love them just as much.

And I loved the book! I read the whole thing and would use it to read stories to my little brothers at night. Because of this, my parents decided that Tigger should be a theme. And for the next several years, every Christmas and most birthdays had some sort of Tigger themed... something. Sometimes it wasn't too bad, or weird — I got stuffed animals and The Tigger Movie . But other gifts were strange. Like the hook rug kit with Tigger's face on it. Nothing about me has ever suggested that I would enjoy making a hook and eye — latch/hoop square, even if it had Tigger's face on it. Or the completely impractical backpack with an interior about the size of my fist (but it's TIGGER!!)

It lasted for a long time too, long after I had outgrown Winnie the Pooh.

But even with that, I still love Tigger, and I still loved reading stories to my little brothers from the complete tales. It makes me want to go dig out my copy of the book from storage so that I can start reading it to my nephews too.

I know this Memory Monday ended up being more about the aftermath than about the book itself, and I'm being a little silly with it, but that doesn't change how much I really, genuinely, did love this story. Winnie the Pooh is one of those timeless, classic stories that never gets old, that should never be forgotten, and should always be loved. (Although, I am fully willing to forget the existence of some of those terrible new TV versions. *shudder*)

Hey all! I have one of my favorite bloggers here today for Memory Monday! April is hysterical to talk to on Twitter and I've discovered that I really trust her overall opinion on a lot of the books we both read. So, here's April, sharing her Memories!

I'm pretty sure it's not possible to be an American product of public school and not remember those awesome Scholastic orders. Once a month a new order from with different possibilities — posters and trinkets for the not so bookishly-inlcined, and shiny books for the readers — would be given to every student. Those of use who loved reading would bring it home and beg hard for books.

I remember most of the time my parents would let me pick something cheap off the order form, counting whatever booked I picked as allowance.

However, one time, they offered up the holy grail to me and let me pick the gift that kept on giving. That's right. I got to get the Boxcar Children set, which let me tell you was baller. It came in this awesome red cardboard boxcar and you would get three books from the series at a time per month, and put them in the boxcar since that was it's purpose. Y'all I think this was the beginning of my being excited about the mail, because after the very first month, the books were delivered to the house. I remember waiting for the monthly package and I would pretty much rip through the adventures of Benny, Jessie and the other kids whose names I totally don't remember, probably because they did not have awesome pink teacups and kind old RICH Grandfather Alden. And those kids would solve mysteries and chill in their Boxcar.

Did any of you get any special Scholastic order? Let me know about your fondness for that monthly order form in the comments!

Bio: April is kind of a big deal and blogs at Good Books And Good Wine. She reads everything under the sun, with a strong preference for YA, fantasy, and romance novels. She works in community education and likes unicorns. You can check out her twitter here.

I know I mentioned in a previous Memory Monday (click to read) about how much I loved Mary Higgins Clark while growing up. My mom handed me my first MHC the summer after 6th grade and I was hooked. But, there were only so many MHC books and I soon finished her back list. By 9th grade I had read everything she'd written, but was still desperate for some more awesome murder mysteries.

My mom suggested I try Agatha Christie. It makes sense, right?! I'm pretty sure she's like, the mother of all murder mysteries. My school library had two shelves just for her, so I decided to just go pull a random book off the shelf. I don't remember the title of the book, but I remember being disgusted. Her main character, Hercule Pointe (?) spent the beginning of the book complaining about the dentist. That was certainly not what I had been looking for. I was horrified and upset. Who wanted to read about a grown man complain about the dentist! I was about ready to give up on Ms. Christie when I found And Then There Were None.

I don't remember if it had been a recommendation or just a lucky grab but I read through that book in horrified fascination. 10 people are sent to a mysterious island where their host never shows up and a record begins to play, informing everyone that they had been invited to the island because they had committed a murder and gotten away with it. Justice had finally caught up with them and they had been invited to die.

They start to die, one by one and the ceramic Indian figurines being to disappear at the same rate. Not only that, but there is a poem — Ten Little Indians- and each death follows a line in the poem (stung by a bee= death by hypodermic needle etc). Everyone is scared, trying to figure out who the murderer could possibly be. And they know it has to be one of the ten. They have searched the entire island and there is no one else there. And, they are in the middle of an incredibly violent storm and there is absolutely no way to or from the island until the storm blows out.

I can remember being beyond fascinated as I read this book, but waiting, waiting for the next death, the next clue, so that I could figure out who done it. But I couldn't. There were a few times I thought I had it figured out, but then that character would die, or would be talking to another character when someone else was murdered.

I reread this one again a few years ago, and I loved it. I loved being able to watch the character interactions knowing the ending, knowing who was really behind the murders and being able to pick up on a bunch of clues I had missed the first time around.

I tell you what — this is a phenomenal book. If more of The Agatha's books are like this, it's easy to understand why she's still recognized as one of the greatest suspense writers.

One Christmas while growing up, my parents gave my older sister a set of books for Christmas. She had them, which meant that I wanted them. But they weren't mine. (I'm still surprised at the number of times over the years that they have given a gift to one of us that would have been better suited for the other. Like the sewing machine... Seriously...) Anyway. I digress. So, I had to wait for the sister to either finish reading all nine books, or wait for her to get tired of them. I don't think she made it past the first few books before losing interest and then grudgingly allowed me to borrow them. (I'm pretty sure the parents were involved in pushing that...)

And let me tell you... I devoured those books. Seriously inhaled them. The Little House on the Prairie series by Laura Ingalls Wilder was insanely loved by me. I cannot tell you how much I loved these books. There are nine of them, and I was reading them when I was probably about 7 or 8. Nine books. Big books too (at least for a kid that age) But I read them. And I loved them. I loved them so much that I thought they were the greatest books ever. I wanted to be Laura. For real... I begged my mom until she made me a bonnet and then I would run around outside, letting my bonnet flop off my head and stream behind me like Laura's did. (And really people, Laura was right! Bonnets are seriously annoying.)

I remember so many games played by myself that involved me being Laura in some way or another. I loved all of the books, but my very most favorite was These Happy Golden Years because that's when Almanzo proposes to Laura. It's been years since I've read these books, but I've never forgotten that scene. I even looked it up a while ago to make sure I was right, and I totally was. 'That would depend in the ring.' Sigh. It gave me butterflies. I don't even think I was 10 yet when reading this book but I remember thinking how amazing and romantic that scene was.

But then... Book the ninth. I remember starting it, so happy and eager to read about them after they had finally gotten married. But as I started reading, nothing felt right. The writing was different and even as a young kid, the narrative voice felt... off. Somehow awkward and stilted. I remember forcing myself to finish the book, because it was the end to this deeply beloved series but being incredibly disappointed in the final book. It wasn't until later that I learned that Laura had died before writing this book and her daughter (I think...) had compiled the notes she had left behind and written the final book for Laura. Made me feel pretty good that I'd picked up on the differences as a 9 year old.:)

I really want to go back and reread these books because of how much I loved them growing up, but at the same time, I'm very afraid to. I'm afraid that they won't live up to the pedestal I've placed them on in my memories. Maybe I'll wait until I have kids of my own and then try and read them together. I'd love to go back and see how many of the scenes I vividly remember from these books are the same as I remember them, or if they are even in these books (like Laura running through the rain so fast she managed to dodge the raindrops. Do you have any idea how many times I tried that?! I lived near Seattle, WA. We were no stranger to rain and I used to try, so hard to run fast enough to dodge the rain. But alas. I never managed it.)

Any of you have memories of reading about the many adventures of Laura on the prairie?

Complete List of the books:

Little House in the Big Woods
Little House on the Priarie
Farmer Boy
On the Banks of Plum Creek
By the Shores of Silver Lake
The Long Winter
Little Town on the Prairie
These Happy Golden Years
The First Four Years

(Also, I hate the cover art with the real people on it... I loved the Garth Williams illustrated covers, even as a kid. They just fit the books so much better)

Hey guys!! Lindsi from Books, Sweets and Other Treats is here with me today! I'm so excited that Lindsi wanted to participate in my Memory Monday feature. She was one of the very first people I started talking to regularly on Twitter and I still laugh myself silly whenever I think of our first big conversation. 'Like the surprise inside.':)

Make sure you check out Lindsi's blog! I love it, hardcore. She reads awesome books, writes great reviews and also includes absolutely delicious recipes of all sorts of yumminess.:) Also, today I'm featured on her blog. Trading spotlights here.:) So make sure you stop by! Meet Lindsi here, get to know her style there! Here she is!!

Bio:

My name is Lindsi and my blog is called Books, Sweets and other Treats. I wanted to include two things I love in the title (books and sweets) and then treats is for anything else that doesn't fall under those two categories. I love baking and messing with the ingredients for a recipe. My problem? I end up making WAY more than I can eat and have to throw them out or give them away. I am currently attending two colleges and stretching myself thin. I'll graduate next summer and I CANNOT wait! I love animals and can't resist picking up strays. They need a good home too, right? I volunteer a lot at my local library. I am unofficially in charge of the YA section. They will ask me for recommendations and give my input on what books they should order. I enjoy baseball and going to Rangers games with friends. We recently went and sat in the "All You Can Eat" section. I thought my stomach would burst! Anyways, that's a little but about me!

Post:
When I was growing up, I wasn't surrounded by books. My parents thought they were a waste of time and an excuse to sit around and be lazy. This broke my heart because I loved reading and getting lost in a story. It was fun and exciting to read about something that wasn't real, but could capture my attention for hours. The books I had as a child were ones that I bought for myself. I saved my Tooth Fairy and birthday money to buy books whenever I had a chance. I remember saving up for a series one time, but for the life of me I cannot remember what it was called. I can tell you what all of the books were about, the different characters (not their names) and adventures, but I can't remember the author or the titles. It has been driving me crazy for years. I would read those books over and over again, and one day I came home and found them gone. My mom had thrown them out because they were tattered and worn. I'm not going to lie... I cried. It destroyed me when she did that. I hate it even more because I can't remember what they were so I can buy them now.

I guess I have my parents to thank for my unwavering love of books. They tried to tell me made up stories were pointless, but I was determined to prove them wrong. I read because it's something that I love to do. I'm glad that as a small child I was able to see how amazing reading could be. I'm also thankful that I can be stubborn;)

What do you say guys? Think we can help her track down this book series? I haven't had much luck, but she did give me a little more information about the series — Maybe one of you will recognize it!!
I remember her being in an all girls school. Occasionally, the boys were allowed over for a dinner or something. She would sit in her window and talk to the moon. I remember a cat (white I think). I remember her going something with her grandmother in one book. I remember her getting stuck in a cave in another book (I think there were indians in this one).
The covers usually depicted her and a scene from the book. I think I had six or seven of them.
If any of this sounds familiar, let us know!! I'd love to be able to help reunite Lindsi with a favorite childhood series!! And thank you again Lindsi for sharing your memories with us!!

I have this theory, that every young girl goes through one of two stages — One, where they are completely boy-crazy fan girls... These are the girls who, growing up, were sure they were going to marry that super hot guy in the BackStreet Boys. My elementary school best friend had both our weddings planned out — She was going to marry Nick Carter, and I could marry his younger brother Aaron and we would be sisters!! (Note, I was vehemently opposed to this idea. Aaron Carter did not interest me. At all)
The other type of girls were those who were convinced that girls were/are superior in each and every way to boys, and that they are mostly an annoyance to be borne. Now, these girls do not believe boys have cooties or are 'eeeww squeal icky!!' That belongs in the first category, because we generally outgrow the eww squeals to those girlish squeals we somehow think will get the boys to like us. Ahem... Group 2 might have really good friends who are boys, but they still think the girls are smarter. So, group 2 thinks the world would be significantly better run by females, that nothing a boy says could possibly be right if it contradicts what I'm saying and so on.
So, which type of girl was I? Well, today's memory is about a book titled Girls Know Best... Take a lucky guess.: P

Ashley was definitely the type who believed girls were way better than boys. When I saw this book pop up in the school book orders, I grabbed my babysitting money and bought it. I read it as soon as it arrived and I loved it! Here was a book filled with tips, tricks, trivia and so much more from girls just like me. I read it so many times! I could go on and on about all the things I 'learned' from this book (most of which I, thankfully, never used...) but I'm only going to tell one story today-
One of the sections of the book was a list of big words you can use in everyday conversation to sound smarter than you are. (Note — this almost never works... So be very careful using big words when you don't need too...) I don't remember very many of the words listed, but one of the words I do remember is 'masticate' (to chew). Say it out loud though, and go back to 9th grade and pretend you are a boy... What's it sound like? Uhu... Yup.
So, I'm sitting in 9th grade heath, and these two boys (neither of whom I particularly liked, although by this point I had outgrown my — "All-boys-suck-and-are-stupid-except-those-boys-that-are-my-friends-and-even-they-are-dumber-than-me" stage) walk up to a girl sitting next to me and start talking. I eavesdropped, both because I'm nosy (I admit it) and because knowing these boys, and knowing who they were headed to talk too, I doubted they were going to be saying anything nice. (I was right... [as always])
(Insert — I'm going to demonstrate my really freaky memory here... Y'all are going think I'm nuts that I can quote (pretty nearly word for word) a conversation I had/overheard as a 9th grader... [at this point, I think that's about 8 years ago... ] Don't judge: P)
Looking sly, the first boy said "Hey -----, do you masticate?" The girl had a disgusted look on her face, looked very uncomfortable, and tried to ignore the question. She said something along the lines of, "Ugh --- — Stop it. Just... Stop. Leave." Knowing they wouldn't leave her alone until they fully embarrassed her, I jumped into the conversation. I told them to walk away, to leave her alone. So, boy 2 said, "Why Ashley? Do you masticate?" I replied with, "Of course! I'm doing it right now!" (I was/am a big gum chewer). And boy 1 promptly whacked boy 2 on the arm and said, "Don't ask the smart kids!"
Thank you Girls Know Best! :P
Admittedly, the book is pretty useless to anyone expect group 2 girls, looking for a book to increase their feelings that girls really are better than boys. I still have my old copy, now battered and beaten from being over read, and I wouldn't mind trying to reread it someday, just to see how my more grown up eyes view it compared to my young girl eyes. Who knows, maybe I will still think that only girls rule.: P

I am having a hard time believing I've been writing up Memory Monday posts since last year but have yet to share my love for Pippilotta Delicatessa Windowshade Mackrelmint Ephraim's Daughter Longstocking, more commonly known as Pippi.

I remember my mom handing me her childhood copies of Pippi Longstocking and Pippi in the South Seas. She didn't give me much of an intro to the books, just told me that they were books she had read and loved as a kid, and she thought I might like them. So I read them. And I devoured them. I love them, and I read these two books over and over again. In fact, I read them so many times that the covers fell off, and then the pages started coming apart.

You see, for me, reading about Pippi's adventures wasn't just about reading the adventures of some slightly crazy girl in a book. Oh no. Pippi's adventures went much farther than that for me. You see, I wanted to be Pippi. I wanted that more than I think I had ever wanted anything before.

I wanted to be cool enough to live on my own, strong enough to carry my horse up and down the porch steps, interesting enough to have a pet monkey, and confident enough to dance around my classroom singing about plutification. (Alas, I've always cared way too much about what my teachers thought of me to be any where near that disruptive.) Oh ya, and it definitely didn't hurt that Pippi is rich as Midas either. She inherited a trunk full of gold along with her Villa from her father, whom she is convince is now king of the canibals after being swept out to sea, and she's very free with her money. She's also brilliant, being able to outsmart any adult and is wholly unconcerned with what other people think of her. She is her own person, and she is perfectly happy to be exactly who she is.

Who wouldn't want to be Pippi? She's strong, in ways that go beyond just her astounding physical strength, loyal, loving, and ridiculously funny. I'm pretty sure I even tried to sleep with my feet on my pillow, and my head down below once. And let me tell you — it is not comfortable. Poor Pippi.

I tried re-reading these books a few years ago. I purchased a set of three Pippi books — Pippi Longstocking, Pippi Goes on Board, and Pippi in the South Seas, and I wanted to revisit that old delight I had felt when reading about Pippi's adventures. I'd never run into a problem with a re-read before, and I was looking forward to revisiting Pippi in all her wackiness. It about broke my heart when I started to realize that it just wasn't the same reading these books as an adult. I've since (mostly) blocked out that reading experience, so I can instead focus my memories on my old copies and how I loved them, literally, to pieces. But, that tiny part that I allow to remember I did re-read these weeps a little when I think of it.

Pippi was such a huge part of my childhood, and I refuse to forget her. I refuse to allow her to fade into the background and you had better believe I will be putting copies of this book in the hands of any daughters I have. (Sons too). It is a book meant to be read, loved, and cherished by youth and I shall do everything in my power to make sure the kids in my life love Pippi as much as I do.

Hi Everyone,

My name is Mindy Hardwick, and I’m happy to be guest blogging today on my favorite young adult book—Homecoming. I am both a published children's writer and educator. Some of my stories and articles have been published with The Washington State History Museum’s on-line magazine, ColumbiaKids including: a middle grade story, “Tales of the Lighthouse Keeper,” and articles about Rachel the Pike Market Pig, and the Fremont Troll. I run a weekly poetry workshop with youth in a juvenile detention center in Everett, WA. You can read some of the youth’s poems at www.denneypoetry.com. You can also find a couple of my flash fiction pieces, Directions and Night Crimes, which were inspired by the detainees, on Sarah LaPolla’s blog, Glass Cases. I keep a blog at www.mindyhardwick.com

I first read Homecoming in my sixth grade reading class. When I reread the book for this post, I took a quick look at the copyright date. My sixth grade year would have been the year the book was published!

In middle school, I was lucky to have both a language arts class and a reading class. Our reading teacher, Mr Stobie, dedicated the entire hour to reading. He filled the room with young adult novels, which at that time, would have been the problem novels of the 80’s. (Young adult novels which focused on a character who was usually trying to deal with an issue such as death in Tiger Eyes by Judy Blume). In sixth grade, we spent our class time reading and journaling about young adult novels. I thought this was Heaven! I didn’t have to worry about reading under the covers with a flashlight, now I could tell Mom and Dad that I was doing homework! Later, when I became a seventh grade language arts teacher myself, I used this same classroom teaching style.

Ironically, at the same time I started teaching, my collection of young adult novels resurfaced at my Mom’s house. She even found the same yellow bookcase where the books had always been stored. I was amazed to see that the books had survived moves across the country as well as decades of being stored in boxes. I unpacked the books and used them to set up my classroom library. And of course, the first book, I found was Homecoming.

Over the years, I’d seen copies of Homecoming at the bookstore, and the cover had changed from the one I remembered. At one point, I attended a library book sale to buy books for the classroom library. That day, I found a copy of Homecoming with the same cover that I remembered. I purchased the book, and never loaned that copy out to students!

When I began taking writing classes, we often studied first lines of novels. But, to me, no first line ever came close to the line in Homecoming: “The woman put her sad moon — face in at the window of the car.” And even though I studied many young adult novels during my coursework in Vermont College’s MFA in Writing for Children and Young Adult program, Homecoming still remained my favorite book. I discovered that there was something about Homecoming which had never left me. Something about Dicey’s character that had grabbed me and continued to hold onto me. Maybe it was the way she so carefully dolled out money for each meal, buying apples and a loaf of bread for 88 cents, or maybe it was all those hot, dusty miles they walked along strip malls on their way to Bridgeport. But, a few years later, when I started writing my own young adult novel, Dicey’s story crept into mine. My character, Jasmine, had also been abandoned by a parent, and just like Dicey, Jasmine goes to live with an extended family member. As Dicey does in the second Tillerman series, Dicey's Song, my character Jasmine must also create a new life for herself. Later, I realized I even named one of my secondary characters, Sammy, and that was the same name as Dicey’s younger brother.

As a writer, I can look at Homecoming and see so many qualities which I try to mirror in my own work: A main character with a strong want and motive. Secondary characters that are just as complex as the main character. Description which is so neatly woven into each scene. A plot which keeps me turning the page.

But as both a reader and writer, I think what strikes me the most about Homecoming is Dicey’s determination to get her family to a safe home. It is Dicey’s determination, all these years later, still inspires me in my own life and reminds me not to give up. Dicey’s story reminds me to keep walking across the endless, hot concrete sidewalks and to keep dolling out that money for bread and peanut butter until I reach that end destination and find “home”. __________________________________________ Thank you so much Mindy! What a wonderful post! Homecoming and the whole Tillerman Saga were really life changing books for me. I loved the whole series and I love hearing what you remember about them! Dicey really is a truly amazing character! Thank you again for participating! Also — to the rest of my readers out there — If you would like to be a Memory Monday guest, in my blog for more information or send me an email! I'd love to have you!

I know this is the third Memory Monday you've had to hear from me in a row. Last week was Fairy Tale Fortnight so I shared two fairy tale memories with you. This week, I wanted to share something a little more somber. Fairy Tale Fortnight had me so busy, that I haven't seen much on anyone's blog but mine and Misty's for the whole month of April, so I didn't see this earlier, but I stumbled across an event on JG's blog — The Introverted Reader that I wanted to take part in, and Memory Monday seemed like the perfect place to put it.

JG is hosting this Holocaust Remembrance Week. I wanted to share my first experience with the Holocaust in literature.

The first book I remember reading about the Holocaust is Jane Yolen's The Devil's Arithmetic. It is the story of a young Jewish girl, Hannah, who doesn't really understand the Holocaust, or her Jewish heritage in general. At Passover this year, when she leaves the table to open the door for the symbolic entry of the prophet Elijah, she finds herself looking out across wide fields, instead of the narrow hallway of her aunt's apartment building. She finds herself back in time, right before the Nazi's come to take her entire village to the concentration camps. Hannah, whose Jewish name is Chaya, is terrified. She learned about this in school, and she knows what's coming. But no one will listen to her. They brush it off as the residual effects of the fever that almost took her life. And so, Hannah lives in the camps, and she learns.

I read this book in 6th grade, and I've never forgotten it. It changed the way I viewed both books and the Holocaust. Hannah's story touched me. It made me want to learn more about this tragic time in history so that I would never forget what an important part of the history of our world it is. Hannah's story hurt my heart. Her descriptions of life in the camp are not overly graphic — I read this book in 6th grade and it was most definitely age appropriate but they are also far from sugar coated. She describes what life was like for these Jews and other "undesirables" in stark terms, making it very clear that to live was to feel pain, to breathe was to suffer. From the beginning, when the soldiers strip them naked after their showers and shave their heads to the very end when soldiers go about selecting Jews to die, simply because they are a little too full, my heart broke for these characters.

At 11 years old, I didn't have any previous frame of reference for this type of suffering and abuse and I cried. I cried while reading this book when people were in pain, but also when people showed their innate goodness, sharing bread when they are already starving, and burdens when they are already weak beyond endurance. I've read this book many times since that first read through in 6th grade, and it never fails to touch my heart. I've read many other books about the Holocaust since then, and all of them have their own power and ability to move me. But this is the one that I remember first, because it was my first.

This is a powerful story. One that I dare you to read and not be moved by.