Yet another installment in Ms. Woodson’s Orphaned Child Coping Through Self-Expression Opus. Not the best povel I’ve read, also not the worst.

Deliciously gothic, well-wrought and funny… exactly why I pick up Tobin’s books in the first place.

Eh. Hiaasen seems to have pulled one over on the Newbery committee. Quick mention of environmental issues does not a good book make. Plot-driven, with a few caricatures instead of characters. Has he READ children’s literature, ever?

Mixed in with the incredible awe I feel at having been privy to a person’s life and mind this way, I’m also astounded that any publishing house would let Eggers get away with half the crap he pulls. Further astounded that he predicted this reaction… annoyed, awe-struck, touched, etc. If I’m thinking so much about a book, it’s a good one.

Cornelia, what the Funke? In her defense, she wrote this one before The Thief Lord, so maybe it was just a warm-up exercise. Or maybe it’s not boring in German?

Patchett thinks of the mundane details that somehow seem necessary and become lyrical. Enjoying this…

Zipping through the Fleischman that I own, and this one’s darker than expected, but also carefully dense as expected, which is what I love about the author.

Hedgehog Rumpus, away!!

Truly scary and effective, although I found the characters very savvy one minutes, clueless the next.

Fun fun… but doesn’t quite reach the heights of a Konigsberg. I do like that Balliet respects the intelligence of sixth-graders.

Peggy and I should have been best friends. This album is immaculate.