Navigating Early by Clare Vanderpool

Following his mother's death, Jack Baker is placed in the Morton Hill Academy, by his father, an active-duty naval officer.  World War II has just ended, but Jack and his father feel like strangers after four years of being apart.  If you were to measure Jack's stress and anxiety index, it would be off the charts.  He's lost his mother, been reunited with his father, moved from Kansas to Maine, placed in a boarding school, and left, once again, by his father. 

Shortly after his arrival at Morton Hill, Jack discovers Early Auden, a classmate who definitely falls on the autism spectrum.  It's the 1940's, though, and those who fall on the spectrum are simply viewed as "odd."  Early only attends school when he feels like it, he believes his brother, who was reported dead in the war, is still alive, and he lives in a workshop in the bowels of the school.  Jack doesn't know what to make of Early, but he tolerates, and even enjoys his company, just the same. 

All Early wants is to find his brother, but the preponderance of evidence points to his brother having died as the result of a bomb blast as his squad of soldiers attempted to blow up a bridge.  Based on what he knows about his brother, Early believes he would have escaped; furthermore, Early believes his  brother is hiding out in an isolated section of Northern Maine, along the Kennebec River.  Jack doesn't believe a word of what Early thinks, but he goes along on the adventure just the same. 

As I read Navigating Early, I couldn't help but think of all the books that have been recently published with characters on the autism spectrum. Interestingly, though, the terms "autism" and "Asperger's" don't come up.  They can't.  Back in the 1940's, someone exhibiting this sort of behavior would have been viewed as "odd.'  Early's idiosyncrasies are just that - idiosyncrasies.  They aren't labeled, and I found that refreshing because Jack didn't refer to Early as his friend with a social disorder; he accepted Early for who he was.  Yes, it took the better portion of the story, but acceptance happened nonetheless.  I liked that.  I'm not sure if Vanderpool did this consciously or unconsciously.

Navigating Early reminded me of Okay for Now in that it's a very character-driven story.  You have the whole father-son angst, the new setting for the main character, and a riveting journey that leaves you anticipating what might happen next. 

Never Say Die by Will Hobbs

Nick Thrasher, an Inuit teenager, does all he can to take care of his family.  His mother is away studying to be a nurse.  His father died when he was very young.  His grandfather, Jonah, the patriarch of the family, has terminal cancer.  Jonah, however, has taught Nick an awful lot about hunting.  One day, though, after Nick has taken down a Caribou that will feed many for quite a while, he's attacked by a cross between a grizzly bear and a polar bear.  The genetic combination makes for a testy, aggressive bear that seems more like fiction than reality. 

Ryan Powers, Nick's older half-brother, is a wildlife photographer for National Geographic Magazine.  He's been assigned to shoot the caribou herd along the Firth River.  When Ryan invites Nick to come on the multi-week photographic adventure, Nick is caught between a rock and a hard place. He's afraid to leave for too long because Jonah may die.  He wants to go because he doesn't know his brother and Jonah has told too many stories about the Firth River and its remarkable caribou herds.

Never Say Die is your typical Will Hobbs action-adventure novel.  As you read, you imagine Hobbs rafting the Firth River, taking in the sights of caribou and bear, camping along the river plain, and rafting the whitewater.  What readers experience is Hobbs' fictional story coming to life in a setting he makes completely real.  Nick is mature for his age, like many of Hobbs' protagonists, and he must overcome the conflicts nature throws at him.  Hobbs also presents social commentary about climate change and drilling for oil in Alaska.  The ride is wild, the cliffhangers are exhilarating, and the conclusion is satisfying.  Fans of Will Hobbs will enjoy this latest effort while looking forward to many more. 

I, Emma Freke by Elizabeth Atkinson

Tall for her age, fatherless, and saddled with an unfortunate name, Emma Freke (freak) does not feel like she fits in anywhere.  At school, Emma is tested by the psychologist, who she feels is using her to get to the bullies.  Emma mainly just tries to operate below the radar, which is hard with such a unique name.  Her mother is short, squat, and boisterous; she owns a bead shop and spends most of her time chasing men with suspicious intentions.  Emma's best friend is a nine-year-old girl, adopted by lesbian parents, who acts as Emma's counterbalance.

All Emma really wants is to find her niche in life.  Then, when she is invited to a reunion hosted by her father's side of the family, the Freke's, Emma makes the bold decision to attend on her own.  Once at the reunion, she is met by relatives to whom she can relate.  Later, though, Emma begins to question some of her relatives confusing behaviors.  Just when she feels like she's found a family to call her own, these concerns push her to dig deeper.

I, Emma Freke is the ultimate coming of age book.  Emma's fears of being adopted, her lack of a father, her intelligence when compared to same-age peers, her newly-discovered family, and her questions, ultimately, about her identity send her on an emotional roller coaster.  She questions her identity; she questions her origin; and she questions the motives of the adults in her life. 

As I have done with my most recently-read novels, I kept an eye out for Beers and Probst's six sign posts, which are all present.  From a characterization perspective, Emma is full of contrasts and contradictions as she deals with the conflicts she's confronted with.  She asks herself many tough questions, which lead to aha moments.  Her flashbacks, or memory moments, provided necessary back story.  Again and again, thought-provoking actions and objects make their way into the story, forcing readers to think twice about their recurrences.  In the end, words of advice from older relatives and acquaintances help her find the meaning she so desperately looked for. 

I, Emma Freke is a textbook example of the sign posts, and it's one of the stronger 2014 Caudill nominees. It will appeal to readers young and old.  After all, what middle schooler - dweeb, freak, poser, popular, jock, or stoner - isn't attempting to sort out their place in the social pecking order? 

Revenge of the Girl with the Great Personality by Elizabeth Eulberg

I often compare adolescence to clothes shopping.  Shopping, more often than not, involves trying on clothes, shoes, and other accessories until you reach the feel or look you're after.  Adolescence is much the same.  During middle school and high school, kids try on new friends, new outlooks, new personalities, and new habits, hoping to find one or a combination that works for them.  So, when I started reading Elizabeth Eulberg's newest book, Revenge of the Girl with the Great Personality, I couldn't help but think about my own observations of adolescence as a middle school teacher and the awkward pilgrimage students take toward determining who they really are. 

Lexi Anderson, a high school junior, isn't very remarkable.  That is to say she's not one of those girls who makes heads turn.  Her clothing is drab, her makeup is non-existent, and her nature is somewhat introverted.  She's the exact opposite of her seven-year-old sister, Mackenzie, a beauty pageant contestant, the type you would find on Toddler and Tiaras.  But when Lexi's gay friend Benny makes a bet, the tables are turned.  Benny tells Lexi he'll talk to a boy he's attracted to if she puts on a little makeup and wears a skirt to school.  She grudgingly accepts, mostly because she wants Benny to meet this boy, Chris, and be happy.  Little does she know that an improved wardrobe and some experimentation with makeup will change the way people view her and the way she views herself.  Surprisingly, she's a little astonished and frightened by her own reaction to the mini-makeover.  But Lexi's conflicts don't end there.   

Lexi's mother is your stereotypical stage mom, hovering over Mackenzie, ignoring Lexi, and showing signs of addiction to the pageant scene.  From the start of the book, Lexi bemoans the pageant life and how it rules her family's time and resources.  Her mother barely makes enough to pay the bills, and pageant entry fees drive the family toward financial ruin.  So, not only does Lexi see the financial implications of stiff pageant entry fees and minuscule payoffs, she is also unsettled by the movement's culture and the message being sent to the participants.  Hence, Lexi's transformation is ironic because as she garners attention for her looks, something she previously abhorred, she begins to enjoy it.

Revenge of the Girl with the Great Personality is not just about pageants, clothing, and makeup; it's also about the minefield of popularity.  Lexi, once she changes her appearance, becomes a bit of a boy magnet, enraging some of the popular girls; yet, some of theses same girls feign friendship with Lexi, which resembles the old saying of keeping your friends close but keeping your enemies closer.  Lexi is never sure who to trust.  Even while she works hard to maintain her friendships with Benny and Cam, she still spreads herself thin, going back and forth between groups of friends and potential suitors.

After reading her first three books - Lonely Hearts Club, Prom and Prejudice, and Take a Bow, I didn't think Elizabeth Eulberg could possibly maintain her bestselling pace.  She's done that and more with Revenge of the Girl with the Great Personality.  Her message for girls is strong, something I appreciate in an ever-increasing world of young adult mean girls and vampires.  Eulberg's social commentary, at times, is over-the-top.  I enjoyed it, but I could see how others might not.  That's the thing about young adult literature - it's never dull.  In the end, though, a strong message is delivered to readers about the trials and tribulations of popularity, parental over involvement, coming of age, and growing comfortable with yourself.

The Tragedy Paper by Elizabeth Laban

What is it about young adult boarding school novels that I find so absorbing?  Although I never felt the urge to go off to boarding school, I did spend my elementary school and high school years attending private school.  I must relate to the isolated and restrictive setting, which is something I experienced.  Most students, boarding or otherwise, look for those few opportunities to escape, and most of young adult stories are about escaping the restrictions put in place by out-of-touch administrators or teachers.  I might also be attracted to the character types, most of which are the same, except for the one who sticks out like a sore thumb.  Elizabeth Laban presents that character in Tim Macbeth, who sticks out like a sore thumb due to his albinism, which restricts him both physically and socially.  Tim is attracted to one of The Irving School's most popular girls, Vanessa, who, contrary to what her classmates might think, secretly enjoys his company, in spite of dating one of the most popular and sadistic boys on campus. 

Duncan Meade, a senior at The Irving School, a private boarding school in New York, enters his final year of high school worried about three things: the room he has been assigned, the "treasure" left behind by his room's previous tenant, and his Tragedy Paper.  Seniors at The Irving School are assigned private rooms, and their return to school in the fall comes with more than a tinge of excitement.  A senior's first order of business is to survey his or her room and find the treasure left behind.  Once he enters his smallish dorm room at the end of the boys' hallway, Duncan's focus is laid entirely on the treasure - a set of CD's left behind by Tim, who only attended The Irving School for the last semester of the previous academic year, his senior year.  Recorded on the CD's is Tim's recollection of important events that transpired from the time he left his home for The Irving School through his final days at the school.  The recordings involve Vanessa, who also received a copy of the recordings.

Much in the manner of Jay Asher's Thirteen Reasons Why, Duncan is left to listen to Tim's recordings and make sense of the information being passed along.  Other than the same dorm room, Tim and Duncan really have nothing in common.  Like Asher's character Clay, Duncan obsesses over the tapes and worries that he is somehow to blame for something that happened during the previous year.  By no means is this a copycat novel.  The Tragedy Paper is a much more sophisticated story that plays out over a much longer span of time - most of Duncan's senior year.  The book also does a marvelous job of connecting characters and events.

Senior year at The Irving School is all about the Tragedy Paper, the culminating assignment and personal investigation of tragedy in literature and its connection to students' lives.  In a sense, The Tragedy Paper is a right of passage, one that brings on as much stress on these high school seniors as a doctoral thesis on a PhD candidate.  As students grapple with the themes of their own papers, Duncan is riveted to Tim's story, one that he only briefly paid attention to the previous year.  Tim's moving narration via the audio recordings propels Duncan to rethink some of his decisions and actions, particularly when it comes to Daisey, a co-ed with whom he is quite smitten. 

All of the elements of a great novel are present.  Likable characters, believable relationships, compelling conflicts, and a satisfying ending urge you to read on.  As I move back to eighth grade language arts next year, the thing I liked the most about this book was the way Elizabeth Laban handled inappropriate content.  I'm no prude, but I must be able to present more mature plots and characters to my students in order to keep their interest.  This generation of readers, like no other I've experienced, loses interest in stories quicker than I can recommend books for them.  Laban provided me with a sure-fire book recommendation for those students who are interested in slightly more mature reading material.  Contrary to many of the young adult releases over the last few years, Elizabeth Laban conveys more with what she doesn't write.  The insinuations are subtle and handled respectfully.  The relationships that play out in this book - Duncan and Daisey, or Tim and Vanessa - focus on the desire to be in each other's presence, rather than the gratuitous content many authors feel compelled to include.  Other authors I've recently read who write in this manner are Elizabeth Eulberg, Pete Hautman, and Dana Reinhardt. 

Whether you attended boarding school or not, Elizabeth's Laban's The Tragedy Paper will grab hold of you and not let go. 

Boys without Names by Kashmira Sheth

Gopal, an eleven-year-old boy living in rural India, must move with his family to Mumbai, a large city in India, where opportunities for work are believed to be more abundant.  Along with Baba, his father, Aai, his mother, and Naren and Sita, his twin brother and sister, Gopal will leave the slower existence of their tiny village for the hustle and bustle of modern-day India.  Gopal is filled with both terror and excitement.  He does not like to think about leaving his friends behind, but he looks forward to the greater economic and educational opportunities the move promises his family.  His uncle Jama, Aai's brother, lives in Mumbai and has sent Baba train fair.  All the family must do is buy their tickets, hop the train, and make their way to Jama's home.  However, when train ticket prices increase, Gopal's family only has enough money to purchase tickets to Thane and somehow make their way to Jama's home.  It's a little inconvenient, but nothing a resilient farming family can't handle, right?  Wrong.

Once in Thane, the family realizes the gravity of their situation.  Food is expensive and there is no place to stay.  Compassion is in short supply, as most everyone they encounter ignores or brushes them off.  Left to sleep on a sidewalk the first night, Baba makes a plan to take the bus to Jama's home the next morning and return with Jama to rescue Aai, Gopal, Naren, and Sita.  When Baba doesn't return, a worried Gopal earns enough money carrying bags for bus fair to Jama's house.  There, Jama vows to find Baba, but Gopal continues to feel like he's not doing enough.  When he meets a slightly older boy who promises work in his uncle's factory, Gopal jumps at the chance to help his family.  But the work is anything but promising as Gopal is held captive and forced to assemble picture frames with five other boys.  He's been tricked into a modern day life of slavery. 

Boys without Names, a 2014 Caudill nominated book, provides readers with a gruesome picture of the very real world of child labor in underdeveloped countries.  Gopal represents one of an estimated 218 million child laborers around the world (Source: United Nations International Labor Organization) who are exploited and face intolerable living and working conditions.  Like Gopal, they are taken from their families, held captive, and sometimes never heard from or seen again. 

Boys without Names is the perfect accompaniment to any social sciences unit focused on child labor, the global economy, or underdeveloped nations.  My students and I just finished studying the impact of the  global economy on Asia, where countless children and adults toil in factories making products sold in developed countries.  Nike and Apple, companies whose products many of us use, have sketchy records with regard to policing the labor practices within the facilities where their products are manufactured. 

Through Gopal's narration, Kashmira Sheth provides readers with a compelling look at the harsh conditions and broken spirits confronting exploited child labor.  Often depressing, you can't help but pull for Gopal and his workmates, many of whom compete with each other for leadership of the group in order to evade the beatings of their master, Scar.  Boys without Names should not be missed, but completing it will take a patient reader, one who is willing to live through the harrowing, day-to-day lives of Gopal and his nameless companion workers. 

Candy Bomber by Michael O. Tunnell

This Caudill-nominated title tells the story of pilot Gail Halvorson's role in the Berlin Airlift after World War II.  While participating in the drop of humanitarian aid to impoverished Germans after the war, Gail Halvorson found time to make his way around Germany.  On one occasion, he observed a group of children behind a fence; they all looked hopeful, even under less-than-ideal living conditions.  Gail wanted to give them something. After all, they were kids, and much of their childhood had been stolen by the effects of war. Some of their parents had died during the war. Food was scarce.  Candy was out of the question.  But Gail had two sticks of gum in his pocket.  Surely he could give them the gum. But how would he divide it among the many children on the other side of the fence?  He left that up to the children, some of whom tore the wrappers into strips and passed them around so the minty smell could be shared by everyone.  Amazed, Gail returned to his barracks and asked fellow servicemen and pilots for their allotment of sweets.  The his amazement, everyone participated.  From there, Gail and many other pilots, servicemen, volunteers, and American school children, and candy companies made it their business to drop candy to the children of Germany and bring a little joy to otherwise dismal lives.

So much of what we read about World War II history ends with the conclusion of the war.  Michael O. Tunnell presents something different.  Gail Halvorson was just a pilot, but he saw a need and decided to take matters into his own hands.  Dropping candy from handkerchief parachutes to the children of Berlin certainly drew a fair amount of attention.  Military brass, Halvorson thought, might not like his candy drops.  In fact, he was called to his commanding officer's office shortly after the candy drops began.  Halvorson thought he would be asked to cease, but his superior wanted to know whey he hadn't said something.  His commanding officer was upset about not being kept in the loop. Relieved, Halvorson continued the drops, expanded the program, and became a spokesperson for the effort. 

Filled with a multitude of pictures, Candy Bomber provides imagery for readers.  These images make a interesting story even more compelling.  Candy Bomber is a quick read, but it's an important read.  Fans of military history will enjoy it because the book provides a different type of story.  Reluctant readers will enjoy its length and how the images provide accessibility.  Social sciences teachers charged with teaching World War II might use this as a study in humanitarian aid.  No matter the audience, Candy Bomber will make its way into hearts of every reader.