The Covid Safety Handbook: Staying Safe In An Unsafe World by Violet Blue

★★★½

All quotes refer to page numbers in the digital PDF version that I read.

The writing is very casual. At times, the word choice sounded like conversational banter. 

This book was written by and for the covid-cautious community; if you're a member of this group, you will absolutely feel validated and reassured.

If you're not already sympathetic to the concerns of this group, then much of the content will seem over-the-top. Before reading this book, I had hoped it could serve as a tool for helping to convince non-covid-cautious readers to take covid more seriously. The tone, however, is not one of detached science, nor of persuasive argument; rather, the need to take covid precautions is treated as a given. The book opens with a brief rundown of the many known covid-related health risks (there's a more in-depth discussion of long covid later in the book), but ultimately, The Covid Safety Handbook is geared towards people who are already covid-aware, who want to learn more about ways to better mitigate covid risks, and who welcome suggestions on how to maintain personal boundaries and navigate situations in which their covid-cautiousness conflicts with a society that minimizes or ignores covid.

The Covid Safety Handbook is chock-full of solid information about mitigation measures and ideas for how to manage risk assessment and implement precautions in various scenarios. I consider myself well-informed on covid-related matters, and still I learned new things. I appreciate that the book conveys a sense of gradation; covid-caution is not "all or nothing", and some protection is better than none. I'll also mention that, despite being the most covid-cautious person among my own social circles, I have applied only a portion of the strategies described in this book.

The text is peppered with footnotes; if inclined, readers can jump to the extensive References and Resources section and go directly to a respected source and learn more. (My digital copy even included hyperlinks for one-click access to articles.) That said, occasionally I wished for even more references; for example, there was no footnote when covid was referred to as a "neurotropic vasculitis with a minimum 10% chance of making you bed-bound potentially for life" (p. 41), which sounds exaggerated. Similarly, quotes from everyday covid-cautious people were encouraging to read, yet when attributed only to "A" or "LD" and "LC" (p. 27, 70, respectively, etc.), it made me wonder, Who are these people? If these quotes came from an online forum or social media post, a reference to the forum, or a screen shot of the comment, perhaps with a date stamp, would have added credibility.

Though thorough in its scope, the book often felt "mile wide, inch deep", which is understandably consistent with its "handbook" designation; I suspect the author made a conscious decision to not delve too deeply into explanations of why or how things work in order to keep the content more high-level and accessible for the average reader. (Plus, as mentioned, further details are available by following reference links.) At times, though, I wished at least for more accurate wording, for example, I would have liked to see the words "rapid antigen test" to differentiate at-home tests from PCR lab tests in the bullet point, "You’re contagious if your test is still positive." (p. 29) I also noticed a number of editing mistakes.

My rating of 3.5 stars is mainly due to the grievances mentioned; I felt I had to lower my otherwise 4-star rating, as reading this book was overall a positive, helpful experience for me. I especially appreciated the many valuable, up-to-date resources, and the latter chapters that addressed the emotional and psychological toll of being covid-cautious in a covid-minimizing world.

Just Ask! Be Different, Be Brave, Be You by Sonia Sotomayor

★★★½

This book is a good read-aloud to help encourage young kids to ask questions when they see differences in the people around them, which hopefully would take the place of whispers, gossip, teasing, or fear.

Each two-page spread of illustrations and text discusses a different medical condition or developmental disability. It is noteworthy that the book never uses the word "disability", and the dust jacket uses the phrase "differently abled". I suspect these word choices are somewhat controversial, since even in 2019, when this book was published, there already existed guidelines regarding language surrounding disabilities (copyright 2018 at the time of this writing) that advised against "differently abled".

Still, I applaud the book's existence. It's hard enough to talk about disabilities and identities among adults, so I appreciate that this book broaches the subject with kids, tries to normalize differences, and can serve as a springboard for further discussions.

The conditions covered are: diabetes, asthma, use of wheelchair, blindness, deafness, dyslexia, autism, stuttering, Tourette's syndrome, ADHD, food allergies, and Down syndrome.

As a parent of children with food allergies, I wish the food allergy page mentioned EpiPens as a just-in-case tool for people with life-threatening food allergies, since some kids may feel self-conscious about self-carrying their epinephrine autoinjectors.

Also, the autism page says "I have autism" and "Tiana also has autism", even though, again, in 2019 (when this book was published) the debate regarding preferred language (link to article published in 2015), e.g., "person with/has autism" vs. "autistic person", was already well under way. I think there are no easy answers, but maybe the book could have at least exposed readers to both options by using "I'm autistic" in one sentence and "Tiana also has autism" in the other.

Overall, not perfect, but serves a purpose.

State of Terror by Hillary Rodham Clinton and Louise Penny

★★★½

*** Warning: This review contains spoilers!! ***

Even though I recently read Stacey Abrams's While Justice Sleeps, I still don't consider political thrillers a genre I generally read. Again, being interested in real-life politics, I picked up this book because of my fondness for the author, Hillary Clinton.

State of Terror was a comfortable, fast-paced read. The story crossed many international borders and had a vast cast of characters, but I had no trouble following the plot, which is noteworthy because I am easily confused. I liked the easy-to-follow, natural flow of the book; the narrative jumped from location to location, but followed a chronological timeline. In fact, with events unfolding so quickly, it felt like it could be the plot for a season of the TV show 24! 

I enjoyed the light-hearted humor sprinkled throughout, and appreciated the thinly veiled portrayals of Trump and Putin.

I know this is a personal preference, but I was not fond of the writing style that employed clauses instead of full sentences. I know the structure adds emphasis to each statement, but it just felt choppy to me. For example: "She stared, paralyzed. Wishing Amir were there. Not to tell her what to do, but to slip his hand in hers. So she wouldn't be alone." (p. 38-39) I don't know if that kind of writing is characteristic of Louise Penny, since I haven't read any of her other books.

Since Hillary Clinton was actually Secretary of State, I took for granted that everything in the book was within the realm of possibility, no matter how incredible. Occasionally, it was smaller plot devices that felt unbelievable. For example, it seemed very unlikely that Anahita, a trained employee in the State Department, would not know that Gil, the famous journalist who was kidnapped by terrorists, was the Secretary of State's son. Also, Katherine and Charles taking the trip to visit far-away caves felt contrived.

One word of advice: Don't read the acknowledgements until after you finish the book. More than once, I have missed out on useful glossaries or "Notes on the Text" type appendices because I didn't know they were there until it was too late. Now, I make a habit of flipping to the back of books first, to see what's there. In this case, both authors provided heartwarming insights into their friendship and the inspiration for some of the characters, but there's also at least one piece of information that made me predict something that I might not have guessed if I hadn't already read the acknowledgements! 

Finally, I think I found an editing error. On page 422, a conversation reveals that the date is "the tenth of March... Today." But just a few pages earlier, on page 411, the chapter's opening line said, "It was ten past nine on a late Fabruary [sic] morning..." Beyond the misspelling, the conflicting dates must have been a mistake.

Messenger (The Giver #3) by Lois Lowry

★★★½

*** Warning: This review contains spoilers!! ***

It's been a while since I read the first couple books, but I remember being thrown off by the supernaturalism in The Giver, because it wasn't evident at first, and I don't even remember any supernaturalism in Gathering Blue. The fantastical aspects of this world are clear early on in Messenger, with Forest actively attacking people and Matty discovering his paranormal ability. 

The story of Village presents a heartwarming, meaningful message. Village thrived on selflessness - everyone welcoming newcomers and caring for one another - and it suffered when Trademaster introduced selfishness into their community. 

Reading the book in 2022, there's an apparent parallel with contemporary issues of immigration and borders. Village is an example of how communities can benefit from diversity and compassion. Published in 2004, the book seemed to foreshadow Trump's obsession with building a wall.

I really enjoyed Matty's character, and was happy to read more about him since I liked him so much in Gathering Blue. I think the presumed post-apocalyptic world with disparate communities was intriguing, and I loved the beauty of the ending. Unfortunately, I just found myself too distracted by all the many unanswered questions. 

For example, who exactly is Trademaster? Where did he come from, and what is his story? Why does he make all these deals that are detrimental to the people making them? What does he get out of them? Is he supposed to be the Devil, making deals with people so that their truest selves are sacrificed for some temporary, worldly gain? 

At the end of the book, we learn that Forest is "an illusion...a tangled knot of fears and deceits and dark struggles for power" (p. 168), but why did it suddenly turn so evil? Was Forest somehow connected to Trademaster? And did Matty's powers work on Trademaster, too? Because if not, why wouldn't Trademaster simply resume his trading, causing the same trouble all over again, and with no Matty there to save them next time?

I tried to do the math, and Jonas, now called Leader, must be in his early 20s. I understand that he's got this special gift, but it still seems remarkable that Village would elect him as Leader at such a young age. And who was the leader before Jonas arrived? Jonas arrived with Gabriel, but we learn nothing more about him, getting only one passing mention of a boy named Gabe, who we can just assume must be Gabriel. (p. 17) Jonas tells Matty that his old community was "rebuilding themselves into something better" (p. 29), but how!? How did the Giver manage all the changes, and what became of the Committee of Elders? Later on, we see that Kira's village was also changed, but again the story of how is missing. What happened with Jamison and the Council of Guardians?

Interestingly, I found an editing error in my edition. In chapter 17, the book says that "Ramon had described poor Stocktender, who had been entangled by Forest". (p. 149) But back in chapter 2, it says Stocktender had died earlier, had not been entangled, and it was Gatherer who had been entangled to death by Forest. (p. 14)

Fantasyland: How America Went Haywire: A 500-Year History

★★★½

More than any other book or article I've read, this book explains just how America came to elect Donald Trump. He is the living embodiment of the idea that "if you're fanatical enough about enacting and enforcing your fiction, it becomes indistinguishable from nonfiction." (p. 30)

At first, I wasn't sure if I should read this book because I was afraid it might solidify my despair at how rampant belief in disinformation is in America right now, particularly within the Republican party. Towards the end of the book, the author explicitly addresses how Republicans have adopted fantasy as their party platform: "[R]ealist Republican leaders effectively encouraged and exploited the predispositions of their fantastical partisans... They were rational people who understood that a large fraction of Americans don't bother with rationality when they vote... Keeping those people angry and scared won them elections." (p. 367)

As it turns out, irrational thinking is part and parcel of the American experience. Conspiracy theories and populism didn't start with Donald Trump, and this book shows how all of American history was priming America for the rise of someone like Trump. In a way, it was surprisingly reassuring to know that American history is fraught with preposterousness; the current situation is not really new, which implies that we can weather it like America has weathered all the other absurdities in its past. 

According to this book, we have a culture of relativism here in America. It's not about what is factually true, but what each person believes to be true. Some people decided that America's freedom-loving hyper-individualism extends to facts and truth, giving them permission to believe whatever they want in the name of "personal freedom", even when there is no rational support for that belief. 

America is exceptional in that Americans have a unique penchant for believing in outrageous fantasies. Americans are particular in their "common determination to believe the unbelievable, live enchanted lives, be characters in their own adventure stories, make their fantasies real." (p. 84) 

This book is an irreverent romp through history. The author points out every crazy grift and supernatural or pseudo-scientific claim Americans and their forefathers have bought into, including but not limited to: witchcraft, homeopathy, phrenology, new religions, creationism, get-rich-quick schemes, unsubstantiated conspiracy theories, miracle cures and their snake-oil salesmen. In modern times, we are still suckers for all kinds of fantasy and dubious beliefs, from Disneyland to the fear GMO foods. Readers may feel sheepish when they realize that they, too, are consumers of the fantasy-industrial complex, which invites us to live in our dreams and forget reality for a while. The author himself occasionally admits to buying into some American fantasy or another, but for the most part, his tone is something like playful mocking.  

Apparently, most Americans are delusional in some way or another, so anyone reading this book will likely be offended at some point, when the thing they believe in is ridiculed in turn. In particular, the author spends a great deal of time taking down Protestant religions, so if you're a Christian, be forewarned: the author describes Christianity as a set of "magical rules" within a "fantasy scheme" (p. 17) and devotes an entire chapter to Mormonism, calling the Book of Mormon "a monumental and pioneering work of fan fiction." (p. 70) Personally, I never understood how Christian fundamentalism could exist in a rational world until the author quoted an early 20th century publication that explained its origin this way: "Fundamentalism is a protest against that rationalistic interpretation of Christianity which seeks to discredit supernaturalism... Christianity is rooted and grounded in supernaturalism, and when robbed of supernaturalism it ceases to be a religion and becomes an exalted system of ethics." (p. 125)

If the emphasis on religion seems unfair, I think the overlap between Trump supporters and white church-goers, and between QAnon conspiracists and white evangelicals, goes to show that it's worth exploring how religion has played a role in shaping our American consciousness of credulity.

Reading this book in 2021-2022, I was struck by the relevance of the author's use of a quote by Mark Twain: "History doesn't repeat itself, but it does rhyme." (p. 82) We are at this moment seeing a resurgence of efforts to ban books and the teaching of racism in schools, and the words of the Scopes Monkey Trial defense lawyer are still fitting: "We have the purpose of preventing bigots and ignoramuses from controlling the education of the United States." (p. 129) 

I also appreciated the author's use of a quote by Thomas Jefferson: What's it to me if other people are wacky, if "it neither picks my pocket nor breaks my leg"? (p. 321) Again, reading this book after the 1/6/21 insurrection and during the COVID-19 pandemic, it is blatantly obvious to me how someone else's baseless beliefs can affect me and others directly. Trump supporters believing in The Big Lie (that Biden did not legitimately win the presidency) resulted in actual lives lost at the Capitol building and has put the entire American system of democracy in jeopardy. Incidentally, the emergence of an anti-government armed insurgency should not surprise us, either; in chapter 43, in a discussion of the proliferation of armed military simulation (MilSim) organizations, the author surmised, "Surely some of the American MilSim gamers have understood their games to be training for a fantasy that they don't consider a fantasy - the secession and patriot insurgency and civil war that may arise after the tyrants in Washington, D.C., finally give the order to confiscate their guns." (p. 400)

It is clear now, too, how the anti-vaccination population "picks my pocket and breaks my legs". Even before the pandemic it was known that "almost a third of Americans believe that 'vaccinations can cause autism' and that schools shouldn't require children to get them" (p. 379- 380), so anti-vaxxers foiling America's vaccination-centered pandemic response was completely predictable. Furthermore, the author points out that "when their illnesses deposit them in the actual-doctor-and-hospital healthcare system late in the treatment game, paid for by insurance and the government, that does pick our pockets" (p. 322), and it further breaks our legs when the entire healthcare system is at risk of collapsing because of a surge COVID-19 patients who are largely unvaccinated. 

For most of the book, I walked away with a feeling of, "History has shown that rational thinking eventually wins the day, and so it will win today, too." The problem, however, is that modern internet technology is allowing those who used to fade away at the fringes of society to now gather together and amplify each other's wackiness, making their ideas more mainstream. (p. 264) This book does an excellent job of identifying the problem, but then basically leaves the reader hanging in terms of what we can do about it. There's a sense that we just have to be optimistic that "our blithe conviction that America's forms of freedom and democracy and justice and affluence must prevail in the end." (p. 437) The author does provide one clear actionable piece of advice: "Fight the good fight in your private life. You needn't get into an argument with the stranger... but do not give acquaintances and friends and family members free passes." (p. 440)

As sweeping as this book's history is, I actually wish that more specific information was included. More than once, the author described events but, for unknown reasons, chose not to divulge a person's name. In one historical account, several paragraphs told how two ministers organized major religious revival events in Kentucky (p. 60-61), but what were their names? In current times, an "eminent child psychologist at Boston University" (p. 408) was mentioned, but who is it?! I guess the names of these people are not exactly important to the point being made, however, for me, excluding the names gave those passages a kind of nebulous feeling, like when someone tells a story about "a guy they heard about".

Along the same lines, I wish the book delved more deeply into some of the topics. For example, I was floored when the book mentioned only in passing the "Oneida Community, which...lasted for decades before morphing into a major cutlery and tableware company." (p. 103) I did a bit of Googling and read up on some of their outrageous beliefs, and I wish the book had included more details to illustrate the fantasy nature of this particular community. Considering how much information is already packed into the book, though, I understand that the author couldn't elaborate on every subject, and it's actually a sad indictment of just how many nonsensical ideas Americans have bought into that the book had to sacrifice depth for breadth, even with 400+ pages.

Entertainingly, this book is very much written for a contemporary audience. There are a lot of specific references to American pop culture, for example, when the author makes passing mention of the Borg (p. 433) from Star Trek. Also, there are some fun tangential tidbits in the footnotes. 

Radical: The Science, Culture, and History of Breast Cancer in America by Kate Pickert

★★★½

This book intertwines the author's personal experiences with breast cancer with explorations of topics related to breast cancer.

There was a lot I liked about this book. Published just this year, it was up-to-date on modern advances and clinical trials. It picked up where Her2: The Making of Herceptin, a Revolutionary Treatment for Breast Cancer by Robert Bazell (published in 1998) and The Emperor of All Maladies: A Biography of Cancer by Siddhartha Mukherjee (published in 2010) left off. For example, the book goes beyond the success of Herceptin, and introduces Perjeta and Kadcyla, two more recently developed targeted therapies for HER2-positive breast cancer.

I appreciated that the author shed light on some of the more controversial and little known aspects of breast cancer. The very first chapter presented eye-opening information on the fact that mammograms underdetect some cancers and overdiagnose others, particularly in younger women. The second-to-last chapter focused on metastatic breast cancer and, in the absence of a cure, the need for more treatment options that could better extend the lives of metastatic patients.  

I found the chapter on the Susan G. Komen foundation particularly interesting, from the beginnings of the pink ribbon to the criticisms they've received and their efforts to re-brand themselves in recent years. The book as a whole provided a keen juxtaposition of the celebratory images of pink-washed breast cancer "survivors" against the harsh reality of painful surgery, debilitating cancer treatment, and marginalized metastatic patients who know they will not survive the disease.

I also really enjoyed the chapter on Taxol, a federal funding for scientific research success story. The author humanized the history of Taxol by telling its story through the people who discovered and helped develop the drug. As a breast cancer patient currently receiving chemotherapy with Taxol, I feel personally grateful for every individual who helped bring the drug to market.

All that said, I couldn't really bring myself to give this book a higher rating. Topics varied widely, and though the book was loosely organized along a chronology of the author's experience from diagnosis through treatment, the narrative seemed to jump disjointedly from one subject to the next.

Several times, the text mentioned "a subtype of breast cancer", but then failed to identify the particular subtype in context. I found this lack of detail frustrating, especially when the book, in other places, did describe subtypes (e.g., estrogen-receptor-positive, HER2-positive, etc.). Not providing such clarifications in all contexts just made those sections seem arbitrarily vague.

The biggest issue I had with the book was its lack of discussion on the choice to not reconstruct after mastectomy surgery. Considering the book's bold presentation of other controversial topics, I think it was a disservice to not fully explore the path of non-reconstruction, i.e., "going flat", with the same validity as reconstruction, especially since the author states that "[n]early 40 percent of women who have mastectomies opt to have plastic surgery" (p. 233), which means that a 60% majority of women do not reconstruct. The author discusses at length her decision-making process for various parts of her treatment, but she did not at all address how or why she chose to reconstruct; it was considered a given.

I was particularly bothered by the chapter on reconstruction being titled "Whole Again", implying that a woman who has a double mastectomy is not "whole" unless they undergo reconstruction. As someone who had a double mastectomy and chose to go flat, I can say with confidence that I feel whole. I wish the author had interviewed breast surgeons who are skilled in flat closure, and I wish she had included the accounts of women who chose to go flat and how they made their decisions, including women who first had reconstructive surgery and then later decided to explant. For a book that seemed tapped into current trends, it was a glaring omission to not at all mention the existence of the "flat movement", including organizations like Flat Closure NOW, which helps to spread awareness and shed light on issues experienced by women who choose to go flat.

To a lesser extent, I also wish the author hadn't shied away from controversy related to cold-capping. Given the book's emphasis on empowering women with knowledge to make their own decisions, I think the book should have mentioned the possible risks, small as they may be.

Overall, a lot of valuable information makes this book a worthwhile read. I understand the topics in the book were driven by the author's personal experiences, but I still wish additional perspectives could have been included, too.

Everblaze (Keeper of the Lost Cities #3) by Shannon Messenger

★★★½

*** Warning: This review contains spoilers! ***

The exciting titular event depicted in the cover illustration happens about halfway through the book. After that, I was sort of left wondering, "Okay... Now what?" Rest assured the last third of the book picks up quite a bit, with a number of satisyfing revelations!

Overall, I just didn't feel like this book was tight enough. There wasn't a defining climactic event, and the story didn't have a good flow. There was the assignment with Fitz, and then the adventure with Keefe, then one shocking plot twist, and then another. It was kind of just all over the place.

I was also bothered by a lack of character development between Sophie and her friends. Dex is the only friend who I feel has "earned" his place as "a good friend of Sophie's who wants to help her by going where she goes." Sophie and Fitz shared the trust exercises from their Telepathy classes, but that didn't feel like an authentic bond of friendship. Keefe is by far the most developed character on his own, but even though Sophie and Keefe share the Silveny bond, she never seems to warm up to him as a friend unless she's faced with his vulnerable side, which makes it seem like Keefe just likes to be around Sophie because exciting things happen when she's around. Sophie and Biana's friendship is the most baseless of all. They don't have much in common except playing base quest with Fitz and Keefe, a pretty convenient way for each girl to spend time with her crush (Fitz for Sophie, Keefe for Biana). It's like Biana just wants to join in because otherwise she'd be left out, and also she wants to be where Keefe is. I don't know if I'm being too harsh, but all I know is that when Hermione and Ron volunteered to leave school and run off with Harry to hunt horcruxes, it was pretty believable because of the strong friendship shared by all three. When Keefe, Fitz, and Biana all volunteer to run off with Sophie, I saw it as a plot device, not really genuine.

Still, the Council versus the Black Swan versus Neverseen and ogres makes for a pretty exciting set-up, and now that we know who some of the Neverseen players are, it'll be fun to see where the story goes next.

No Other Gods: The Politics of the Ten Commandments by Ana Levy-Lyons

★★★½

Full disclosure: I went into this book self-identifying as a politically liberal Christian.

In this book, Ana Levy-Lyons shows us how the Ten Commandments support liberal Christianity. "Liberal Christianity" may seem like an oxymoron if your idea of Christianity is what is presented by the conservative, right-wing Christians who seem to dominate the American religious landscape. But here, Levy-Lyons even goes so far as to call out the religious right for the ways in which their interpretation of Christianity actually breaks some of the Ten Commandments.

Interestingly, I associated the Ten Commandments so strongly with Christianity that I was a bit surprised when I realized the author is Jewish. But of course, the first five books of the Old Testament are the Torah, so the Ten Commandments are as much a part of Judaism as they are a part of Christianity.  

Rather than write off the Ten Commandments as irredeemably outdated, oppressive, and a symbol of tribalism, the author encourages us to reclaim these ancient teachings within the context of modern times. She is clear that she is not trying to define what the Ten Commandments "actually" mean; instead, she examines the original text of each commandment and extends the interpretation beyond the literal. What do the Ten Commandments offer us, spiritually and politically, in the 21st century? Levy-Lyons proposes that keeping the Ten Commandments is to "reclaim...the concept of God...as a force for justice and stewardship of the earth." (p. 96) She leads us to think beyond our individual selves to see how the Ten Commandments can shape our thinking in regards to broader issues such as protecting the environment and supporting a living minimum wage.

The chapter on the Fourth Commandment about observing the Sabbath especially resonated with me. The author interprets this Commandment as urging us to take time to slow down and take care of ourselves on a regular basis, engaging in "joyful, life-affirming, relationship-building, or spiritually deepening deployments of our time." (p. 112) She notes the irony in how, in our over-scheduled world of commitments and busy-ness, "it takes discipline...to enter into an undisciplined, formless time." (p. 119)

The chapter on the Sixth Commandment that forbids killing was also especially eye-opening for me. (The commandment is not as straightforward as one might expect.)

I admit, the writing in this book didn't grab me at first. What finally made the book click for me was imagining the words being spoken as in a sermon. The whole book is like a really great, thought-provoking sermon series. 

I do wish the book, as a work of non-fiction, had references. The author makes a lot of statements that we are expected to accept at face value, without being given a source. Statements like, "Over one billion people in the world lack access to safe drinking water," (p. 166) and, "Today in the United States the average CEO makes a salary several hundred times that of the average worker." (p. 202)  I know these statements are in the ballpark of being true (I don't know exact figures) because I keep up with the news and current events. But I can see someone else doubting those kinds of statements, wondering if maybe she's exaggerating. 

The Color of Success: Asian Americans and the Origins of the Model Minority by Ellen D. Wu

★★★½

I'm an Asian American. When I was in college (a couple decades ago), I didn't even know that Asian American Studies was a thing. If I had taken any classes in it, I imagine this is the kind of book I would have read for class (though this particular book, published in 2013, wasn't available back then).

While absolutely informative, I also found this book to be academic and dense. I'd give 4-plus stars for the content, but maybe 3-minus stars for readability, which averages out to something like 3.5 stars.

This book focuses on the Chinese and Japanese experiences, as those have been the most visible Asian ethnicities in U.S. history, and they are the populations around which the model minority emerged. Going into this book, I had a working knowledge of major pieces of Chinese and Japanese American history as separate and distinct events, but this book - for the first time I have encountered - studies Japanese internment alongside the Chinese Exclusion Act. During World War II, when the U.S. allied with China to fight Japan, Japanese Americans suffered from their assumed allegiance to their ethnic country of origin, while Chinese Americans benefited from the same assumption.

After WWII, integration became even more complicated as U.S.-Japan relations were strained and Communism took hold in China and threatened to spread throughout East Asia. Both Japanese and Chinese Americans loudly declared their support for American ideals, but at the same time, there was value on the international stage in promoting cultural plurality in America, to show that America truly was a place of equal opportunity, regardless of race.

Both groups were cast as "assimilating Others," capable of being culturally American despite clearly being racially distinct. Asian Americans were definitely not white, but also definitely not black, and the model minority was consciously created as a "simultaneously inclusive and exclusive reckoning" (p. 9) of Asian Americans as part of the national identity. Asian Americans themselves engaged in self-stereotyping, eager to "dislodge deeply embedded 'yellow peril' caricatures." (p. 6) It was a conscious effort to align themselves with white middle class Americans, and to separate themselves from African and Mexican and Filipino Americans (despite sharing common experiences of oppression), thereby upholding white supremacy in the process. Inevitably, the model minority became a wedge that divided Asian Americans from other minority groups seeking equal rights, particularly African Americans.

Personally, I would have liked to learn more about the model minority in the post-1960s era - the time in which I've lived and have first-hand experience - but this time period is only discussed briefly in the Epilogue, which touches upon the "repudiation of the model minority and its assimilationists origins...[as well as how activists] deliberately inverted the trope of non-blackness and instead embraced affinities with" other racial minorities. (p. 247)

A Wind in the Door (Time #2) by Madeleine L'Engle

★★★½

I think I liked this book better than A Wrinkle in Time because I already knew what to expect, so I didn't spend so much time wondering what was going on. I have an even vaguer recollection of this book than A Wrinkle in Time, though I'm pretty sure I read it back in the 4th grade because I remember having a conversation with a classmate about not understanding whether or not farandolae were real or just made up. (They are made up.) Since this series is generally recommended for ages 10 and up, I guess my reading comprehension skills just weren't up to snuff as a kid.

This book follows much the same template as A Wrinkle in Time. In A Wrinkle in Time, Mrs. Whatsit, Mrs. Who, and Mrs. Which guide Meg and company on a journey through the universe. Charles Wallace's life is in danger, and Meg needs to save him by overcoming her fear and using the power of love. In A Wind in the Door, Blajeny and Proginoskes guide Meg and company on a journey through a microcosmic universe. Charles Wallace's life is in danger, and Meg needs to save him by overcoming her lack of confidence and using the power of a different kind of love. Once again, events unfold against a backdrop of good versus evil, with the good side being wrapped in sometimes Christian language.

First published in 1973, there is still some old-fashioned charm, for example, when Meg assumes Calvin has a handkerchief, and he does. The book's denouncement of war and hate is timeless.

I really liked the "Naming," the idea that when someone "Names" you, when they really know you, then you are. Your existence is affirmed and you are rooted in being. I also liked how "kything" put a word on the idea of truly gaining courage and strength from those who would give you these qualities.

There's a satisfying message about everything, and everyone, being important, no matter how seemingly inconsequential. It actually reminded me of a Bible verse about how every person in a community matters: "[S]o that there should be no division in the body, but that its parts should have equal concern for each other. If one part suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honored, every part rejoices with it." --1 Corinthians 12:25-26

How To American: An Immigrant's Guide to Disappointing Your Parents by Jimmy O. Yang

★★★½

This book was a fun read, and funny, too!

First off, like Fresh Off the Boat, this book might not be for everyone. Jimmy - usually I refer to authors by their last name, but somehow, "Jimmy" just fits; plus, I can't bring myself to call him "Yang" when I know his proper last name is "Ouyang". Anyway, maybe it's part of his comedy shtick, but he frequently idolized the "gangster rapper" lifestyle, including the objectification of women. The book includes swearing, drugs, and a whole chapter about how he worked as a strip club DJ.

I most enjoyed this book's beginning and end. The first couple chapters were devoted to Jimmy's typical immigrant experiences. As a child of Chinese immigrants myself, I could easily relate to much of his story. The last couple chapters described how Jimmy navigated Hollywood as an Asian-American, and how his roles - especially the time he spent filming Crazy Rich Asians - helped him to come to terms with his Asian-American identity. The struggle is real, and having books that explore and validate my own experiences really does make me feel empowered and visible.

In the middle, we follow Jimmy's less-than-glamorous ascent to stardom. Even while in seemingly rock-bottom type situations, he describes each episode of his life with such matter-of-factness, humor, and optimism that the book never feels too heavy. Most times I felt like I was just along for an entertaining ride.

Now, I'm a big fan of formal education - like if you want to be an actor, you can still go to college and get an acting-related degree. But Jimmy is a walking example of how a person with enough spunk, passion, and, yes, you have to have talent, too, really can approach life as one big educational opportunity with lessons to learn in every experience.

The Turtle of Oman by Naomi Shihab Nye

★★★½

Aref is a young boy in Muscat, Oman (a predominantly Muslim country, though neither Islam nor religion in general are topics in this book) who is so sad to be moving to Michigan, where both his parents will be graduate students at the University of Michigan for the next 3 years. In the week leading up to his departure, he spends quality time with his grandfather, Sidi, while putting off his packing and wondering how he can possibly leave the only home he's ever known.

I have to admit, I found the book slow to start. First I had to get past the realization that the book wasn't really about a turtle. Then, I was looking forward to reading about how things would go in Michigan when my daughter told me that the book ends before the actual move. After adjusting my expectations accordingly, I realized the book is not so much a story in the conventional way, but more like a lovely, poetic homage to Oman, and to the kind of special relationship a boy can have with his grandfather.

As Aref's adventures with Sidi help him to come to terms with his upcoming move, we come to see that Aref is the "turtle of Oman"; like the turtles who "carried their homes on their backs and swam out so far and returned safely to the beach they remembered" (page 210), Aref would be packing his most favorite possessions to bring with him to America, and would return again to his beloved homeland in just a few years.

This book gave me the kind of nostalgia you feel when you are in a moment, and realize that some time in the future, you will look back on that moment and feel sad because you miss that time in your life. Aref and his grandfather create beautiful memories together, but I can't help but wonder, "What if Aref's parents need to extend their studies much longer than the expected 3 years? What if they come back, but the 3 years apart take their toll, and Aref and Sidi never regain the same close relationship? What if Sidi dies while Aref is in America?!" I guess the book isn't about any of those things, anyway.

Ultimately, a good book for anyone interested in learning about another culture, or for a child feeling anxious about an upcoming move. (Even if they don't plan to return, their love for the home they are leaving may draw them back some day.)

The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck by Mark Manson

★★★½

I picked up this book because I know myself to be easily outraged and constantly feeling anxious or indignant. That is, I give too many f*cks about too many things. I really hoped to learn something about how to care a little less about things in general.

To be clear, the book isn't really about not giving any f*cks about anything. Rather, the author's mission is to lead you to understand that the real issue is about having the right priorities and values so you can make good life decisions and reserve your f*cks for the things that really matter. Using both his own life and the lives of interesting historical and public figures as examples, the author shows us what values will best lead us towards happiness and fulfillment.

Here are a few lines with which I really identified:

Page 13-14: "[W]hen you give too many f*cks... you will feel that you're perpetually entitled to feel comfortable and happy at all times, that everything is supposed to be just exactly the f*cking way you want it. This is a sickness. And it will eat you alive."

Page 31-32: "Happiness comes from solving problems... The secret sauce is in the solving of the problems, not in the not having problems in the first place... True happiness occurs only when you find the problems you enjoy having and enjoy solving."

Page 117: "We shouldn't seek to find the ultimate "right" answer for ourselves, but rather, we should seek to chip away at the ways that we're wrong today so that we can be a little less wrong tomorrow."

The author pulls together concepts from many sources; he admits that a lot of his ideas aren't original, and he gives credit where credit is due. He then distills these ideas into an overall philosophy that is relatable, approachable, and seemingly implementable. I have to admit, his perspective makes sense. He doesn't actually provide specific instructions on how exactly to give fewer f*cks, but he does present a bigger picture, which, if you buy into it, should naturally lead you to only give a f*ck about things that really matter.

Given the title, it's no surprise that the language in this book can get pretty vulgar. I'm usually not one to use profanity myself, so it was something I just had to accept. It was sometimes a little jarring, though, because the author might go on for several paragraphs, or even pages, using perfectly appropriate language, and then right when he's in the middle of explaining a profound insight, he'll throw in some profanity.

Finding Winnie: The True Story of the World's Most Famous Bear by Lindsay Mattick

★★★½

This children's picture book tells the charming true story of how a North American black bear came to live at the London Zoo, and how A. A. Milne's Winnie-the-Pooh came to be named after this bear.

The book is written by the great-granddaughter of the bear's owner, and the story is presented as a bedtime story between her and her young son named Cole. While the premise is sweet, the storytelling lacked a certain flow... I think I found the conversational interjections by mother-and-son to be more distracting than cute. The focus on their own personal connection to the story made me feel like this story is more "theirs"; maybe I had too-high expectations, but as a Winnie-the-Pooh fan, I was hoping to feel more connected to the story, but instead I sort of felt like I was looking through a glass window.

I think what really makes the book worth reading are the illustrations by Sophie Blackall. They are soft and lovely, evoking a sense of tenderness. While the text is informative, it's really the illustrations that make the book a pleasant read.

I also really enjoyed the black-and-white photos of Winnie the bear, and her owner, Harry. Though I did find it odd that the photo collection included a black-and-white photo from 2013 of the author and her son... I guess it's a way to show how the story of Harry and Winnie live on, but it also sort of felt like another distraction from the original story.

Incidentally, when this book was recommended to me, I looked it up in the library, only to find that there were TWO non-fiction children's picture books published in 2015 about the real bear who inspired the name of Winnie-the-Pooh!? I don't know how the publishing world works, but I certainly found this discovery surprising. The other book, Winnie: The True Story of the Bear Who Inspired Winnie-the-Pooh, I actually thought was slightly better, and is also worth a read.

Travel as a Political Act by Rick Steves

★★★½

I've always enjoyed catching Rick Steves on PBS (he has an endearing kind of dorkiness), but it wasn't until the last election, when he campaigned to legalize marijuana, that I realized he was a vocal, respectful political activist. I "liked" his Facebook page, and now I am even more of a fan, not just of his travel shows, but of the man himself.

This book is not actually about making political statements with your travel destinations (as the title might suggest), but rather, it's about engaging in thoughtful travel that challenges your pre-conceptions and helps to shape your world view. The book urges readers to "travel more purposefully." (p. ix)

I think it's worth mentioning that this book is surprisingly heavy for a paperback. It has thick glossy pages filled with full color photos on almost every page. As with any travel book, the photos provide added understanding to the text.

As much as I enjoyed the book, I actually had several false starts; I kept putting this book down, only to pick it up days later, then having to re-read earlier pages because I forgot the context of what I had been reading. Once I got into it, though, it was an easily accessible lesson on weighty topics such as globalization, the lasting effects of colonialism, and Liberation Theology. It doesn't touch on every major political issue, but does seem to provide sufficient context and content to the select issues that were addressed.

In highlighting the history and politics of different regions, I very much appreciated Rick Steves's honesty in acknowledging his own inconsistencies. For example, he writes on page 104, "I've seen how religion injects passion into local politics...and I've developed a healthy respect for the importance of separation of religion and state. And yet, when a politicized Church...fights for economic justice, I find myself rooting for the politicization of religion."

Basically, most chapters are devoted to a certain region of the world, and Rick Steves writes about his own personal travel experiences, about differences and similarities between that region and the United States - specifically, how other countries deal with certain political issues including taxes, drugs, and transportation, just to name a few - and about what might we learn from each other. Rick Steves points out that every country's way of addressing issues has its pros and cons, and it's the culture and people of those countries that decide what values - individual wealth? social stability? joie de vivre? - are prioritized above others.

Rick Steves is a self-described liberal, as am I, but still I didn't agree 100% with his opinions. I think he does make a lot of really important observations, and good points, and I wonder how this book might be received by conservatives? I also think his perspective is valuable, and though I can't fault him for not being even more well-traveled, I do wonder what kind of insights and impressions he would have traveling to Africa and Asia.

I learned a lot from this book, and it gave me lots to think about.

The Mysterious Benedict Society and the Perilous Journey (The Mysterious Benedict Society #2) by Trenton Lee Stewart

★★★½

*** Warning: This review contains spoilers!! ***

Another engaging installment in which the children use their unique skills both to solve Mr. Benedict's riddles and to escape the clutches of the evil Mr. Curtain. There's a bit of a lesson about how some people are capable of harming others, and some people aren't.

The book had somewhat of a slow start, but picked up once the kids got on the ship. Once again, we see how Reynie, Sticky, Kate, and Constance have to work together to survive their journey and reach their goal. We also see a fair amount of character development in Constance and Sticky.

I was a little bothered by the children's encounter with the "boathouse prisoner". The whole incident seemed unnecessarily contentious, especially considering that Risker clearly had suffered at the hands of the Ten Man, and the children were there to help him escape, after all.

What most prevented me from giving this book 4 stars, though, was Reynie's misguided mistrust of Captain Noland. At one point mid-journey, he actually deceives his friends and cuts off all contact with Captain Noland - their one source of assistance!! - and in the end, Captain Noland was trustworthy after all. Yet, the book never addressed Reynie's miscalculation, nor the consequences it had on their journey. With Reynie always being the one the others looked to as the group leader with the best ideas, and him seeing himself in that role as well, it seems like his realization of this significant misjudgment could have been an important piece of character development.

Also, since I've already given the spoiler warning - I also didn't like the way the group took advantage of S.Q. Of course, they had to run for their lives. But I wish there could have been some way for them to avoid betraying S.Q., who had always been soft on all them. I haven't read the third book yet, but I would be sad to see S.Q. turn to the dark side out of anger and spite towards Mr. Benedict.

Mission Impossible (The Genius Files #1) by Dan Gutman

★★★½

A fun read about twins named Coke and Pepsi whose cross-country drive with their parents is overshadowed by their recent discovery of being secret members of The Genius Files.

The third person narrator frequently employs author intrusion, speaking directly to the reader for comedic effect. There is humor throughout the book, mostly of the "safe" kid-appropriate variety.

It's worth mentioning, though, that there is prominent scatological humor involving the dumping of waste from an RV. And I was slightly bothered by a reference to boys not having feelings; it just didn't seem like a productive thing to put in a book that many young boys are likely to read. We also see a bit of talking back to teachers, and the word "retarded" is used. Though effort is made to point out that "retarded" is not appropriate language, it's done somewhat dismissively. Oh, and the kids were required to keep The Genius Files secret from their parents. I don't know, I get that the appeal of many children's books is that the kids are supposed to figure things out for themselves, but the whole don't-tell-any-adults thing in kids' books always rubs me the wrong way.

All that aside, this book reminded me a bit of the 39 Clues series, not only because of the brother-sister pair who try to figure out clues while on the move with dangerous individuals on their tail, but also because the brother in each series is the funny one with a photographic memory, and the sister in each series is the more emotional but clever one. Also, like 39 Clues, the reader has lots of opportunities to learn about real people and places as the sibling duo travels from place to place. Only, in this book, the places and things that kids can learn about are not always educational, but more like fun facts, for example, the existence of a Pez museum in California, or giant balls of twine in Kansas and Minnesota. There are drawings and photos that are entertaining, too.

The book was published in 2011, so it's a very contemporary read, with references to Facebook and Twitter. The author even suggests that the reader follow along with the family's cross-country travels by mapping out their route on Google Maps.

There are some kind of mature ideas in this book, including assassins and references to genocide, cannibalism, and 9/11.

One last thing to mention, lest it is overlooked by readers as it was by my children! Three times in the book, a cipher is randomly printed along the side of a page. In each instance, curious readers will find that the same type of cipher is given to Coke and Pepsi a few pages later, and then several pages later the kids decode the cipher. Motivated readers can turn back to the cipher given to the reader and decode a secret message. It's fun!

American Born Chinese by Gene Luen Yang

★★★½

A bold graphic novel about racism, identity, and acceptance.

Being Chinese-American myself, my personal experience definitely played a role in my reading of this book.

American Born Chinese consists of three separate stories that eventually tie together in a meaningful way. The first involves the Monkey King, a well-known character in Chinese folk tales. I don't know enough about Chinese folk tales to know which parts of this story were authentic to Chinese legends, and which parts were made up by Gene Luen Yang. But I know just enough about the Monkey King so that this character felt very familiar to me, giving me an instant feeling of connection with the book.

The second story involves a Chinese-American boy named Jin who has trouble fitting in, mainly because he's the only Chinese boy in school. While my personal experiences were not quite as extreme as Jin's, his story was something of a mirror of my own childhood, and so I identified with him immediately.

The third story is presented as if it were a sitcom. A boy named Danny is mortified when his cousin Chin-Kee comes to visit. Yes, that's right, Chin-Kee like "chinky". This story line was cringe-worthy in its depiction of racist Chinese stereotypes, even as it was obviously meant to be a wild caricature of the worst of Chinese representation in American popular culture. (Think Breakfast at Tiffany's.)

The three seemingly unrelated stories come together in the end to help Jin deal head-on with his self-loathing and finally come to terms with the Chinese part of his identity. It was a satisfying ending, but I sort of felt like the final resolution came about a little too quickly.

There was one other thing I found interesting, and I wasn't sure what to make of it. In the Monkey King story line, there is an all-powerful creator named Tze-Yo-Tzuh. A lot of his lines sounded reminiscent of Christian Bible verses, and it was another review that tipped me off to the fact that some of his lines were actually variations of Proverbs 139.

On page 80 of my edition, Tze-Yo-Tzuh says, "I have searched your soul... I know your most hidden thoughts. I know when you sit and when you stand, when you journey and when you rest. Even before a word is upon your tongue, I have known it."

The corresponding verses in Proverbs 139: "You have searched me, Lord, and you know me. You know when I sit and when I rise. You perceive my thoughts from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down... Before a word is on my tongue you, Lord, know it completely."

Later, the Monkey King is seen having gone on a "Journey to the West" to bring gifts to Baby Jesus. It was a strange blending of Christian tradition and Chinese folk lore. Was the combining of east and west philosophies a metaphor for how Chinese-Americans must intertwine their Chinese and American identities? Or was it a statement meant to show that east and west philosophies aren't really so different? Or is the author himself Christian, and simply wanted to interject his faith into the story?

This book definitely has a place in helping to define the Asian-American experience - yes, it is actually a realistic portrayal of how many Asian-Americans feel - and I imagine it would serve as an effective window for non-Asian-Americans.

Btw, here's an interesting anecdote unrelated to my actual review... When I first read this book, there were 16 pages towards the beginning that made absolutely no sense to me. The illustration style was completely different, and I had no idea what was going on. I read the entire book, feeling a little confused all the time, never quite understanding how those 16 pages fit in. When I went to write my review, I took a peek at some other reviews to see if they could shed light on the mysterious 16 pages. Nothing I read mentioned anything like those 16 pages, but several reviews mentioned things that were definitely not in the book that I read! After some online sleuthing, I finally figured out that the copy I had read - borrowed from the library - actually included 16 pages of another book, Missouri Boy by Leland Myrick, spliced in!! They completely replaced the 16 pages that ought to have been in the book.

I got myself another copy of the book, and thankfully the second one was fine. I re-read the whole thing to make sure I got the proper experience start to finish. When I return both books to the library, I will definitely let them know about the mistake in the first copy!

Wonder by R.J. Palacio

★★★½

*** Warning: This review contains spoilers!! ***

A heartwarming story with a clear message of kindness.

This book gets a lot of high praise, and rightly so! August Pullman's story is told from multiple perspectives, making for lots of opportunities for the reader to practice empathy and to identify with one emotion or another. I especially appreciated Via's narration because it has always seemed to me that it's not uncommon for the siblings of kids with medical conditions to get overlooked. I know the part about Grans favoring Via might not sit well with some people, but I think that is exactly what Via needed to hear - that she mattered, too.

Grans and Mrs. Pullman are Brazilian, and I appreciated the matter-of-fact bit of diversity, including Summer being biracial. One small detail that I was perhaps overly sensitive to - because I'm Asian-American - was how Ximena Chin, the only character with an Asian-sounding name, was stereotypically the smartest girl in the class. Similarly, not diversity-related, but I didn't like the way the students who played Dungeons & Dragons were stereotypically portrayed as always being at the bottom of the social ladder.

While we're on the topic of small details... When Mrs. Pullman asked August about Summer, August said she was not in any of his classes (pg. 55). But just a few chapters later (pg. 68), August said Summer was in his English class, which seemed a peculiar oversight because several chapters had been devoted to August's first impressions of his English class, and Summer had no role in it.

I really loved Summer's character. Certainly she was set forth as the ideal, the kind of person we all wish we could be. If only every school had a Summer! Jack Will was, for me, the more relatable student. He was a good kid, but not eagerly so, and through him, it was clear how much peer pressure can play a role in children's behavior.

I really, really liked how all the kids in the book did not keep information from their parents. When there was something worth telling, they did tell - within a reasonable amount of time, before things got worse - either a parent or a trusted older character. I hope the message is not lost on young readers that when something bothers you, it helps to talk to someone.

I understand not wanting to complicate the story too much, but I found myself really wanting to read the perspectives of Julian and Charlotte. Julian, of course, never found it in him to be kind to August (and we see a glimpse of why in his mother's emails), and Charlotte - despite being portrayed as a goody two-shoes - only did the very minimum that was asked of her. Honestly, truth be told, I think a lot of children, in real life, would behave more like Julian and Charlotte than Summer and Jack. We don't want to promote or excuse their behavior, perhaps not even pass judgment, but I think some exploration of their feelings and emotions would have been valuable.

Of the perspectives included, the first-person narration by the 10-year-olds felt not quite believable to me. It was a bit odd, because I did find their dialogue, writing assignments, emails, and texts to be pretty typical of 5th graders. But their narrative voices just seemed too mature and articulate for their age. They sounded - and acted, what with all the talk about boyfriends and girlfriends - more like 7th graders, to me. I frequently wondered why the characters just weren't written to be 7th graders. Beecher Prep could have been a junior high school, and the "lots of kids will be new at the same time" idea could still have worked. Although, another thing I very much appreciated about the book is how August would just break down and cry sometimes. That did seem perfectly fitting for a 5th grader, but might not have had the same effect if he were a 7th grader.

Even though Amazon says this book is appropriate for grades 3-7, I would recommend it more for grades 5 and up. To me, this book is really a thinking book. What would you do if August went to your school? Would you be like Julian or Summer? Jack or Charlotte? Or maybe even one of the peripheral characters, who exist at a distance and never actually get into the fray? I think this book can have the most impact when it leads to some introspection, and I just think older readers would be better able to internalize the book's situations and explore the character's motivations and psychology, rather than just take the book at face value as just another story. On top of that, there are a number of heavy concepts in this book, including two deaths, talk about reincarnation, and a rather light mention of suicide that plays a big role. When I first started this book, I encouraged Isabelle to read it, too. By the end, I told her not to rush, that if she wants to wait another year two to read it, that's fine. But I would like her to read it some day.

I'm kind of surprised at how much I have to say about this book, but I'm just going to keep going...

In some ways, this book felt like it had a lot of potential as a young adult, or even adult, novel. In Via's narration, she goes into genetics, lets us know that she, too, carries the gene that could result in her children having a condition like August's, and then she drops a heart-wrenching line: "Countless babies who'll never be born, like mine." (pg. 106) Wow. So affected by her brother's life, she has already decided that she will never have children, not willing to risk that one of them might be born like August. I expected more exploration or discussion later on, especially when her boyfriend Justin's narration revealed, "i'm going to be an overprotective dad some day... my kids are going to know i care." (pg. 197) Wow! So many questions. Would having or not having kids be a deal-breaker, either for Via or her partner? Would Via be willing to have children if she could guarantee her partner didn't carry the gene? At what point in a relationship do you ask your partner to get genetic testing, in order to determine if you're willing to move forward!?! Crazy questions, all of which are beyond the purview of a children's book, especially with Via and Justin just being 9th graders, after all.

Every now and then, someone would point out that August does not have special needs. This detail was important to show that August only looked different, but was otherwise intellectually and emotionally just like any other 10-year-old kid. However, whenever it came up, it just never sat right with me... Via saying, "Unless you want to be treated like a baby the rest of your life, or like a kid with special needs..." (pg. 115) and Charlotte explaining that Beecher is not an inclusion school, which "mixes normal kids with kids with special needs." (pg. 171) I don't know. It just had a small tinge of, "Well, good thing Auggie is not special needs, because those kids aren't normal, and we don't want to have to deal with one of them."

I was taken aback by August winning a medal at the 5th grade graduation. When they first started talking about the last award, I thought, "Oh, this is great, Jack will get an award for being brave, for being kind and befriending August even though it meant losing all his other friends!" And then I thought, "Oh, maybe it will be Summer, because she never wavered, and was super kind and befriended August in the beginning without even being asked." Turns out, it was August who won. It's not that I don't think he was brave for going to school, or that he was in any way undeserving! It's great that he won. But one of the major themes of the book is how August just wants to be an ordinary kid, just wants to be treated like a normal kid like everyone else, not singled out for being who he is. In light of that particular theme, the award seemed too much. Yes, it was August who, just by being who he is, inspired other people to step up, to be braver than they thought they could be, to be kinder and more compassionate. But... he didn't actually do anything.

Clearly, this book got me thinking. It's a valuable read.

Oh, a couple random thoughts. I loved that Mr. Browne taught precepts, as a way to get kids thinking. And I enjoyed all the references to pop culture, though I don't think kids today would necessarily understand them all.

I Survived the Attacks of September 11th, 2001 (#6) by Lauren Tarshis

★★★½

This is my first I Survived book. It occurs to me that after I read more books, I might want to change this book's rating, relative to other books in the series.

I wanted to start with September 11, 2001, because this book's whole existence intrigued me. I can understand writing a historical fiction for children centered around the Battle of Gettysburg, set in 1863. But every adult in America has the shocking and tragic events of September 11 seared into their memories, even their hearts. How is the author going to pivot that into material for a children's book?

Even before reading this book, I recognized the need for something like this. The events of September 11 are now so much a part of the fabric of America that it's easy to forget that children today may not have any idea what actually happened. They hear "September 11" and know that something bad happened. We owe it to our children to at some point explain why that date matters.

So, I was pleased to find that this book is not only age-appropriate in its language, but the bigger 9/11 story is couched in a more personal story about a boy and his love for football. The language is matter-of-fact, yet there is warmth in the characters. Still, the gravity of the day comes through. At times, the narrative is downright intense - especially if your own memories start to kick in. But the boy in the book, named Lucas, is never really in a position of feeling completely lost or alone, so there's safety in learning about the events through his story.

This book fell short of being 4 stars for me mainly because of the way in which it abruptly stopped the story once it was established that Lucas was safe. The final chapter filled in the gaps with broad strokes, but I think much more could have been written in regards to the second tower falling, and the challenges Lucas would have faced in returning home that day. Sebastien reminded me that the book couldn't be too long, and I admit I thought that the chapters were well-paced. On the one hand it seems like a lost opportunity to write more, but on the other hand, I can understand not wanting to prolong the disaster for too long, especially given the young audience.

I really appreciated the author's note at the end explaining "Why I Wrote About September 11". She answered a lot of the questions I had myself - regarding characters in the book as well as why she wrote it in the first place - and I appreciated her honesty. She revealed additional facts as well as some of her own personal experiences.

The book includes two additional sections at the end, one about the "Time Line for the Morning of September 11, 2001" and another on "Questions and Answers about 9/11".

Overall, a good read, and an appropriate introduction to 9/11 for children.