Book Review: Beauty Queens

From bestselling, Printz Award-winning author Libba Bray, the hilarious (and sometimes twisted) story of a plane crash, beauty contestants, and desert island survival.

The Premise: Teen beauty queens. A desert island. Mysteries and dangers. No access to e-mail. And the spirit of fierce, feral competition that lives underground in girls, a savage brutality that can only be revealed by a journey into the heart of non-exfoliated darkness. Oh, the horror, the horror! Only funnier. With evening gowns. And a body count. (From Amazon).

Ages: Teen

Rated: PG-13 for violence, sexuality, and other lovely vices we are told not to enjoy but actually really do. 

Beauty Queens is a hysterical laugh so hard that you are crying romp of a tale that is simultaneously an examination of femininity and feminism, sex and sexuality, and the cult of consumerism. 

Beauty Queens begins with a word from the Miss Teen Dream pageant, The Corporation, warning that some of the content of this book is subversive and must not be taken seriously. No really, they are just looking out for us and would prefer really if we just put the book down and continue on our quests to be beautiful and vapid. I mean pretty.

In this Lord of the Flies meets Miss Congeniality-esque masterpiece, an airplane carrying 50 contestants in the Miss Teen Dream pageant crashes on a deserted island killing the camera crew, the chaperons, and a good chunk of the contestants themselves. The survivors are left to survive as only beauty queens can, with grace and poise. Alright, it is hard to survive with grace and poise when your hormones are running rampant, there are sexy pirates in the vicinity, and you've run out of Lady Stache' Off that rids you of your unwanted facial hair, or any body hair, as well as conveniently cleaning up your skin. Handily, it can also be turned into a bomb. 

The layout of the book is structured to resemble a reality TV special, complete with commercial breaks, words from our sponsor, and product placement footnotes. There are info fact sheets about each girl that provides them a chance to tell the audience who they are, which provides constant humor as well as insight into the crumbling pageant facade each girl wears like armor. The evil villains are always portrayed in the classic villain sense complete with location and 0100 hour time references.

I love this book. I love love love this freaking book. Can you tell? I said love three times. It was a clue.

But seriously, this book is fabulous, subversive, and makes you think about social mores, political happenings, and why on Earth you watch Jersey Shore. Example? The crew of Captains Bodacious IV discuss the perils of being reality telly stars, and what follows is... well the truth of marketing, fame, and longevity of reality stars.

“Marketing says pirates are over — it’s all about hot trolls now. They’ve got a hot troll show lined up and ready to go in our time slot: Trollin’ on Delaware Beach. Ridiculous! Like, who is going to watch a bunch of trolls getting drunk at clubs and trying to entice college girls to their place under the bridge? I heard goats mentioned, too, and that’s just wrong” (Excerpt).

Oh wait, did I say challenges social mores? I am such a total bore, going on and on and on and on about how our culture needs to treat its girls better, have less qualifications and restrictions on what it takes to be happy, be reasonable. Look. I understand I have a problem, but I like my problem. So! This book challenges social mores while using pre-packaged stereotypes that unravel faster than my shoddy knitting. We've got Alpha girl Miss Texas, Taylor Krystal Rene Hawkins who is the ultimate contestant, Petra with a deep dark secret, Adina the journalist working on her expose of pageants, to Jennifer who loves comics and super heroes. The girls have secrets, are diverse in ethnicity and sexual orientation, and are not just some pretty face to be fobbed off the moment a hot boy shows up. As I said, sexy pirates. Hard to resist.

Beauty Queen delves in issues of race, class and sexism, and it hold back no punches. For example, the oft used tool of relegating women of color to sassy sidekick roles on tv is called out, the book continually reminds readers of how much time, effort, product and money girls have to put into their appearances while boys just have to put on clean clothes and they are good to go (For a couple of interesting articles on this, check out Jezebels 'The College Fashion Gender Gap' and 'Women Judged For Looking Older, Judged For Using Botox'.)

Of course, no story is complete without a shadowy and malignant presence. The sponsor, known only as The Corporation fills that niche perfectly. The Corporation owns not only the Teen Dream pageant, but also a number of beauty products and fashion lines, they produce movies and TV shows aimed at the young, the beautiful, and the mindless masses. I love The Corporation. It is my new favorite comedic bad guy. Throughout Beauty Queens, The Corporation is continually written into novel with footnotes, advertising, ™ and © references which gives some idea of the real-world pressures these teen dreamers cope with, while also perpetuating the mock media machine. It is a continually hilarious satire about our fascination with being beautiful, having the latest and looking the coolest. 

This is Libba Bray flaying consumerism with witty subterfuge – she makes a mockery of teen sensations and latest crazes, by holding up a fun-house mirror of truth for readers to stare into, horrified and cackling (ALPHA Reader).

I just, I love this book guys. It is smart, sassy, and redefines and recreates what it is to be a girl in this day and age. Girls kick ass. Watch yourselves guys, we are much more dangerous than you would ever imagine.

Grade: A+++++++++++++"

"This is Libba Bray, a writer much more interested in subverting that paradigm—girl-on-girl psychological violence as spectator sport—than playing into it…Beauty Queens is a madcap surrealist satire of the world in which her readers have come of age—reality TV, corporate sponsorship, product placement, beauty obsession—but ultimately, it's a story of empowering self-discovery."  –New York Times Book Review

How to scare your patrons shitless: Batman Edition

Pretty sure if I did this, the kids would sit quietly and take up crocheting. 

Maggie Goes on a Diet: A Follow Up

A friend brought to my attention the continuing drama that is surrounding the most inappropriate book written for girls ever, 'Maggie Goes on a Diet'.

The Guardian  posted a story on the debate the book has stirred up, noting that 'Maggie Goes on a Diet' has been branded as irresponsible by nutrition experts. It's not just on the internet anymore people! People are discussing this book IN REAL LIFE. I for one, am pleased by the controversy that the book has stirred among the public. And the book is not even available yet, with the publication date slated for October. 

In a comment in the article,  pediatric dietitian Paul Sacher, co-founder of Mend, which is an organisation that provides free, healthy lifestyle programes for families, said the book was ‘shocking.’

‘The suggestion that a young child should aspire to look thin rather than be healthier or have more energy is very concerning.While it’s important that children maintain a healthy weight for their age and height, the idea that a child should go on a diet and lose weight is not helpful and could potentially be damaging.’

What I found most startling was said by Joanna Ikeda, a nutritionist at the University of California: 

‘Body dissatisfaction is a major risk for eating disorders in children all the way up through adulthood. Six and seven-year-olds already believe that their size tells the world what sort of person they are, and that big equals fat equals unpopular.'

First off, what does it say about our culture that is inundating small children that to be happy and successful you have to fit into a microscopically small niche of thin attractiveness? Why is this, as a culture, something that we both subscribe too and maintain as a cultural norm? At what point, while we sit on our fat assess watching Toddlers & Tiaras do we think that this is okay? That we should be treating our children like objects, objectifying small human beings that have yet to create their own views and understanding of inherent self worth and value? 

This book is a problem, it is a huge problem. But it is also reflective of a self-fulfilling prophecy of the continuation of beauty standards in the Western world's consciousness. 

Fat babies? Cute. Fat children? Unacceptable. Let's tan them and bleach them and turn them into Kardashian automatons already, and leave this discussion behind. 

Quote of the Day: Trainspotting by Irvine Welsh

"Choose life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family. Choose a fucking big television, choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players and electrical tin openers. Choose good health, low cholesterol, and dental insurance. Choose fixed interest mortgage repayments. Choose a starter home. Choose your friends. Choose leisurewear and matching luggage. Choose a three-piece suit on hire purchase in a range of fucking fabrics. Choose DIY and wondering who the fuck you are on Sunday night. Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing, spirit-crushing game shows, stuffing fucking junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pissing your last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, fucked up brats you spawned to replace yourselves. Choose your future. Choose life . . . But why would I want to do a thing like that? I chose not to choose life. I chose somethin' else. And the reasons? There are no reasons. Who needs reasons when you've got heroin?"

Book Review: Seven Sorcerers by Caro King

Nin had never liked Wednesdays, but this one took the cake. On this Wednesday she woke up to find that it was pouring rain and that her little brother had ceased to exist.
The first thing to hit her was the rain. As she had forgotten to close her window the night before, the heavy drops bouncing off the windowsill got her right in the face. It wasn't the nicest way to wake up.
With a yell, Nin sat up and glared at the window. Then she scrambled onto her knees and leaned over to struggle with the drenched curtain and the stiff catch. It took ages to slam the window shut, with the storm on the outside where it was supposed to be.
She rubbed her wet face with the sleeve of her pajama top and then peered out of the window at the mass of gray clouds, or at least what she could see of them through the water pouring down the windowpane.
"Great!" she muttered. "Just brilliant. It's got to be Wednesday!"

Seven Sorcerers by Caro King
Ages: 10+

So begins the 'Seven Sorcers' by Caro King.

The premise is thus: Boogeymen kidnap children, and in the process, they make everyone who ever knew them forget, effectively erasing the missing children from existence. Ninevah 'Nin' Redstone wakes up on that particular horrible Wednesday with the realization that she is the only person to remember Toby, which can mean only one thing: that whoever took her brother is going to make her disappear too.

Enter Skerridge, Bogeyman extraordinaire, who steals kids for the mysterious Mr. Strood. Skerridge is the best of the best, and has never lost a child he's stolen. He's taken Toby, and now he's back for Nin. Except the unthinkable happens, Nin escapes into the Drift, and now Skerridge has to get her back.

On the run for her life, with her new friend Jonas and an unusually thoughtful Mudman, Nin is on a quest to save her brother from Mr. Strood, but on the way she has to evade the fabulous and sometimes dreadful inhabitants from the magical world known simply as 'the Drift'.

It is terribly difficult to summarize how absolutely amazing this book is in a concise and non-rambly manner. I tried yesterday, and failed miserably. You can consider this my second attempt.

What I really liked about this book is, well, everything. The writing is witty, refreshingly honest, and clever; the plot is complex with twists and turns that leave you in suspense every time you put the book down; and the characters are fascinating and so well fleshed out you feel like you know them. My favorite is Skerridge, and not just because he sounds Cockney.

I think what drew me in the most was how King created the backdrop to the tale through the creation of the Drift. The Drift is dying along with all the magical and non magical creatures that exist within it. The most powerful have changed themselves into new forms in attempt to beat death, existing through memory and strong emotions. What is really cool is the concept of fear, because people remember fear and react strongly too it. Fear of death, fear of forgetting, using fear to power existence.

Everything is somehow connected, from the Seven Sorcerers that lend their name to the books title, to the terrifying creatures that roam the woods of the Drift. Even Nin herself somehow fits into this world both through her actions and goals, as well as through circumstances beyond her control. Nin herself is a fantastic role model for young children in how she's dedicated to her family and friends, and despite whatever obstacle that is thrown in her path, she always manages to come through it without losing her indomitable spirit.

It is slightly dangerous, totally invigorating, and has drawn me into a world in a way that few children's authors manage. I want more, and I want it fast. Luckily, book two is slated to be published very, very soon. Oh, didn't I mention? It's the first book in a series. Even better. 


Grade: A++++

Fun Title to Check Out: Casanova Was a Librarian

"They’ve been killed by angry mobs, knighted, and even canonized.  Some have gained fame or infamy as politicians, inventors, revolutionaries, notorious lovers and even  saints.  In ancient Rome they were literally slaves.  They can be found in every community.  And we either love them or hate them.  There’s no other explanation for them, except to say, they’re librarians!

Casanova Was a Librarian provides a peek at the lighthearted, humorous, sexy and intriguing side of librarians.  In addition to information about famous librarians, you’ll learn about librarians in politics, porn, poetry, song, movies, and the comics.  Librarian humor, librarian recreation and health, librarian underwear, outerwear and other merchandise designed just for librarians are just a sample of the information you’ll find in this book."

(Synopsis taken from GoodReads). 

Children's Librarians are Better Than Yours

I honestly do not know why people have this assumption that librarians are scary relics. Actually no, I do understand. One of my earliest memories is, coincidentally, in a library, and I remember the librarian was absolutely Stone Age. We called her Ms. Merriam*, and she ruled the library with an iron fist. A fist of steel. She watched everyone pass through the hallowed doors of her library with that piercing narrowed eyed gaze that just promised retribution if a page was bent, a cover smudged, or, heaven help you, you spoke. 

*Her name was not Ms. Merriam. 

As a child, she was terrifying. Forget the evil villains on television, Ms. Merriam was it. 

She was the boss, and everyone knew it. 

To be fair, Ms. Merriam was not what would be considered a Children's Librarian now. I am not entirely sure she was one either. Most likely, she was a reference or Adult Services librarian, not trained or otherwise inclined to deal with small hellions running around the library building forts out of the books, or hiding under tables playing games in a manner reminiscent of trolls under bridges. 

Libraries and Librarians then, as opposed to now, were not necessarily geared towards young readers. 

My Aunt has informed me that in her day, aka ancient history, children were allowed into the library on Tuesdays and Thursday between the hours of 4-7, and Saturday from 10-Noon. There was no designated Children's Section or staff. What was that? A whole department geared specifically towards kids? And you offer programs and reading times for them? Well, there was nothing like that when I was young, let me tell you. 

So what we are left with is an understandably nervous population of adults who maintain a certain degree of wariness towards librarians, you know, those fire breathing ladies (and men) of their youth. Their children know better of course, because they have us. The friendly  librarians that smile and help them find books and understand the library. The librarians that give them puzzles to play with and will high-five them on the completion of a really really long book. 

It should come as no surprise that we get a lot of adults asking us to help them. Us, the Children's Librarians. Because we are nice. And not scary. And wear bright colors. Not like, you know, those Adult librarians. They are scary. And probably mean. And they absolutely do not coo over their patrons. 

Well for one, it is totally cool to coo over an infant or an adorable toddler. It is not really the same to coo and coddle a grown man or a grandmother. I will bet you money that if I cooed over some guy who came up to me and asked me to help him find a book that he would probably think I was mentally challenged, really scarily weird, or sexually harassing him. But clearly, Children's librarians, totally friendly, because we coo and shit. 

Adult librarians must be the final hold out on the frontier to have super savvy and in-touch with the population librarians. They need to be eradicated! Alright alright. Not eradicated, but possibly reprogrammed, kind of like how those kids that were saved from cults get reprogrammed. We will make them friendly and helpful, and knowledgeable and totally not like those evil scary librarians that they use to be before. 

I would not call this extremism, just common sense. Amirite?

So Children's librarians. Let me think. We are friendly, mostly. We can stop a kid with the glare of icy death at ten paces if need be, but really we are just super cool and very fun. What else. Oh! We are younger, ergo, friendlier. Except that is hardly true, most departments are made up of staff of differing ages, experience, and not too mention, awesomeness. 

I am by no means the happy cooing Children's librarian first thing in the morning before my coffee induced caffeine high has had time to hit the bloodstream. But I have no problem crawling around on the floor looking for a book that is hiding somewhere on a bottom shelf, or helping a child pick up the pieces of a puzzle that was accidentally dropped. Sometimes, in the evening, there is no smile hiding in the quirk of my lips, or any excitement at all to be mustered over a kid who is really excited about the new series I told them to read last week. Dude, I am human, not a robot. 

I think though, that there is one thing that we are doing that is completely invaluable. We are teaching kids that the library is a friendly and accessible place regardless of your age, background, or lifestyle. As these kids grow up, they will know how to use the library. They will know that librarians are there to help them find their books, or offer recommendations of new titles to try out. Most importantly, the next generation of library users will not be terrified by the guardians of books. Because, you know, we're pretty cool folks. 

Book Review: Maggie Goes on a Diet

A day late and a dollar short this week.

The Book: Maggie Goes on a Diet by Paul Kramer

Front Cover

Premise: This book is about a 14 year old girl who goes on a diet and is transformed from being extremely overweight and insecure to a normal sized girl who becomes the school soccer star. Through time, exercise and hard work, Maggie becomes more and more confident and develops a positive self image (From Barnes & Noble).

Ages: 6-12

This book first came to my attention through Jezebel and I was immediately incensed. I am well aware that there is an 'epidemic' of obesity among children, and I think it is important to educate them on healthy eating and active lifestyles, however this? This is obscene.

Treasury Islands  says it best I think.

"Let’s take in the cover. It is, after all, the only thing we currently have to go on. This smiley girl with Pippi Longstocking plaits is probably Maggie. And Maggie is, lets face it, a little on the plump side. Maggie has a pretty pink frock. Girls like pretty pink frocks. But look! The pretty pink frock will not fit her – it is too small! Here’s a suggestion for your next book Mr. Kramer: write a book called MAGGIE’S MUM BUYS A DRESS THAT ACTUALLY FITS HER AND DOESN’T DEGRADE HER DAUGHTER, and get someone else to write it."

There are many different reasons that a child can be over weight, but a diet should never be started unless under the direction of a medical physician, and can be accomplished through a combination of nutritious meals with proper portioning which teaches children healthy eating habits, and encouragement to engage in more physical activities like sports or going for family hikes. Studies have shown that pre-pubescent girls are the most at risk group for developing eating disorders because they are being shown from a young age that their bodies are not quite right, that if they were thinner they would be prettier and therefor happy.

This book does not teach children how to live a happy and healthy life. It barely teaches children how to be happy. What it does teach, is that to be happy, you cannot be fat, overweight, a little bit plump, or anything in between. Worse, it is teaching children that they need to think about their weight! Not only is this book unnecessary, it has totally missed hitting the side of a freaking huge barn from five paces.

My hat is off to you Paul. I truly did not know that there was, in fact, a new low children's authors could sink to.

Grade: F-

It's fine to show kids how to lead a healthy lifestyle, but the concept of "going on a diet" — and all the obsessive behavior and self-loathing that can go along with it — shouldn't be part of childhood (Jezebel).

UPDATE:

For your amusement, I am adding the tags people have added to the Amazon page.

teaching kids to self-hate give your children neuroses sexist drivel anorexia bait body fascism talentless hack writer

dangerous abusive if you hate your daughter sick waste of a good tree poor dress sense eating disorder to order

girl-hating horrible why self publishing exists child abuse diets don t work

What are teens reading these days anyways?

Oh... ok then. Well just carry on then. I'll be over there. You know. 

Hiding from the sparkles and the glitter. The herpes of craft supplies. Just... yeah. Protective gear. 

Losing Worlds: When I Stopped Reading

I can remember the first book I ever read on my own.

Now, mind you, I use the word 'read' in the loosest sense, as I'm fairly confident that my reading of the book was based primarily on pure memorization and less on my ability to make sense of the written word. The book was, and is, a favorite. Where the Wild Things Are, by Maurice Sendak, opened a brave new frontier of possibilities for me. Lands where monsters roamed free and a boy was king. It is safe to say that fantasy was a fast favorite for me, one which I would regularly devour whole in one sitting.

I read for years. Often without break, in sun or snow, light or dark. When we moved house I would always choose the room that had the streetlamp nearby so as to read sneakily in my room after lights out. I read on road trips, camping trips, during skating competitions and through family dinners. I loved to read. Reading was my life. 

And then one day I stopped reading. 

I am secure in my belief that this happens to many people on the brink of adulthood. I did not stop reading because I no longer loved it. I did not stop reading because I had lost interest in the worlds hidden away, bound between two cloth covers. I stopped reading because I had started university, a brave new world all of its own, and one that I was more than eager to immerse myself in. 

This is a truth, of a sort. But not the whole truth. 

I actually stopped reading in my second year of university. I have many excuses and logical arguments to explain the whys and the hows. Most of them revolve around the sheer amount of reading I had to get through for my courses. Few of those books and articles that I read during that time I read for pleasure or leisure. 

"Honestly," I'd say to my friends, "How could anyone read Moll Flanders for fun?"

And so, I stopped reading for fun, and suffered through myriads of books and plays and articles that I staunchly did not enjoy. Not even a little book. How on earth could I enjoy reading something that I had been told that I must read? I would not like it. I refused. 

Looking back now (a lofty two years past my undergraduate, and freshly done my Masters) I can't help but laugh at my conviction that I would not like anything that I read. For one, I was an English Major. By default I must love to read. Some of my favorite evenings where spent curled up in my crappy little couch in my snug little student apartment with The Song of Roland and a highlighter, deciphering the words that where barely English, as they had been translated from Medieval French to Medieval English. The Horrors! Nor can I deny my clear enjoyment of Shakespeare (cliched as that is) and Machiavelli (more unusual), both of whom became inspirations for my advanced research paper my final year. 

But no, I did not read. And what I did read, I did not enjoy. 

Even during the summers I refrained (mostly) from reading. What was the point? I was exhausted. I was wiped out. Reading anything was an effort and heaven only knows how much I'd be forced to read in the coming school year. I would save my reading strength for later. 

During my MI, I actually read very little for fun, though I did make an effort to at least try. By this point, I acutely missed characters I'd grown up with, and newer ones that I had discovered during my teens. I longed for them. Pined even. I told myself that I was not actually reading anything, because if I read, I read something old, something treasured, something that didn't require me to think. During my Christmas vacation I diligently packed books to read on the flights to and from home, and more to read while there. I would successfully complete two books over the three weeks I was home. Not even a third of what I had packed in my carry-on. 

And then one day, I was finished school. I was not entering a new program or a new degree. I had no real reason to not read anymore. I looked at my bookcase, and was filled with dread. Those years that I had not read had been filled with birthdays, holidays, special occasions where people would give me something that they knew I loved more than precious stones or metals: books. Volumes upon volumes. Few had even been cracked open beyond a cursory look at the inside of the jacket. Some were my old standbys, lightly read despite their age and importance. Where to begin? 

I fled from their accusing stare, melancholic gazes from unbroken book spines. 

I watched television. I watched a lot of television. I watched about two weeks of solid television. From the time I woke up to the time I went to bed. I was wallowing in television. Bad television. Sitcoms, chat shows, Teen Wolf. 

And then one day I picked up a book that had been sitting by my bed since my birthday, six months previous. I cannot say that Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell is one of my most favorite books ever. It is not. It was, however, exactly the kind of book that I favor: a world a little like this one, a time slightly removed from this current day and age, and wizards. I read it in four days. And then I started to reread the first three books from A Song of Ice and Fire. When those were done I worked my way through the Dresden Files, followed swiftly by The Hollows. 

By this point, I was gainfully employed as a practicing librarian. I had a reason to get out of bed in the morning, and a three hour round commute to and from work almost daily. Many of my friends, actually, all of my friends think I am insane for willingly doing this commute. I am actually happy to do so. As I say, I have built in time everyday to read. 

I read books that had languished unloved on my bookcase for six years. I read new fiction for the Children's Department at my library. I found digital versions of classics for my ebook reader. I read. And I read. 

I am once again a devourer of worlds, of words. 

Entitlement and Other First World Problems

I work in a library. I hope that much is obvious dearheart, or I fear for the future generations. Nevertheless, not only do I work in a library, but I work in the children's department.

'Children!' you might think, 'Oh now there is an easy group. They can't read, and when they do learn how, it must be so easy to give them a book, any book, and they will go away happy and satisfied while their parents are secure in the literacy of their spawn.'

No.

No that is not how it is at all.

Heaven help us all if Geronimo Stilton is not on the shelves, or Pokemon, Nancy Drew (in graphic novel content nowadays because we all know chapter books are really, really hard) or Percy Jackson. It is the end of the world! They know what they want, and they want it now dammit. Not in a week or two when the book has been returned, not tomorrow if it is in the back being sorted to ready it for re-shelving. They want it right this very moment.

To be fair, that is not necessarily a bad thing. I admit, kids wanting to read in this age of digital technologies and video games, with its plethora of distractions away from the written word, is totally awesome. Who wants to read about blowing up aliens when you can do it at home?! Right in your living room?! But what about patience? Understanding that you are not going to get what you want the moment it bothers to cross your consciousness that you have an interest in something? Alright, we all wait in sweet anticipation of the next volume in our favorite series. I waited years for certain titles to be published and available.

The library is not a bookstore. At the end of the day, we have a limited number of titles, and are regulated by the circulation of books rather than by the popularity and sales figures of a title. There is only so many copies of Harry Potter that we can squeeze onto our shelves at any given time.

So there is sulking, and crying, and bemoaning a fate worse than death that you can't have the book you want RIGHT NOW. Most sanctimonious mother of Batman give me strength. I would like nothing better than to give you exactly what you want RIGHT NOW. It makes me happy. Really, it does. It fills that empty space inside me which is the direct result of not having what I wanted whenever I wanted, which was food. Usually chocolate. My life was so hard, and I am in this position now to ensure that today's youth does not suffer from the lack of as I did. Once I am in a position of power, I will make sure that any staff on desk will drive over to the nearest Chapters and get you exactly what you want so you don't have to wait. No no really, it will be my pleasure.

Not all kids are like this. In fact, I would say that these kids are in a distinctly unfavorable minority. Over 90% will accept with grace that the book they'd really like is not in, and they put it on hold and wait, or decide to return later in the week to see if it has come back in yet. And of these kids, most are more than willing to try out a new book or series and usually find themselves more than pleased with the end result. Oh hey there Tamora Pierce, Diana Wynne Jones, Madeline L'Engle and Maurice Sendak. Let me introduce you to the youth of today.

A Blog? For me?!

I've been toying around with creating a blog for, oh, about two years now. But something always got in the way, there was always some sort of excuse to not publicize my views online. However, it seems that in this day and age to not have an online persona is debilitating in professional networking as well as in the job search.

Stay tuned for my thoughts on anything that passes my fancy, unedited, unscripted, and always, exactly what I'm thinking.