The Giver is the story of Jonas, a young boy living in what is originally presented as a utopian society. Everyone coexists harmoniously, spends the day going about their routines as expected, and even shares their feelings with their family at the dinner table. There is no violence, no pain, and no dissent within the community. As per tradition, when Jonas turns twelve, he and the other twelve-year-olds are assigned a job in the community that they will spend the next several years preparing for and the rest of their life fulfilling. While others receive typical jobs in the community such as Caretaker of the Old, Jonas is given a job that causes an unusual stir in the community, as it is one that is rarely given: Receiver.

Jonas’ training is done by the titular character, the Giver, who reveals a new world to Jonas. He begins transferring long-ago memories to Jonas, letting him in on secrets and knowledge: things like color, emotion, climate – all the things that are regulated and unknown to everyone else. Jonas begins to experience the things the community is kept from (true family, the feeling of a warm summer day), as well as the things the community is protected from (loss, and pain in the form of a blistering sunburn). Eventually, Jonas comes to the realization that the benefit of protecting citizens from the negative things in life does not weigh out the drawback of keeping them from the joys life has to offer.

The Giver has received a lot of praise, but also a lot of criticism because of some of the themes being explored in a children’s book. I’ll admit it’s probably a little advanced for most fifth-graders – I read it on my own when I was about that age, but it was done as a unit when I was in middle school. (Amazon.com describes its reading level as ages twelve and up, which puts a potential reader at the same age as Jonas.)

Towards the end of the novel, Jonas needs to decide: stay and remain oppressed, or leave and live free? What does he decide? What happens to him? The ending is ambiguous, so read it and decide for yourself!

In Alice in Wonderland, Alice is bored and ends up following a rabbit and falling down a rabbit hole into an alternate universe.  As she runs through Wonderland, she encounters several different obstacles, from a mad tea party, to a game of croquet with the evil queen.

In Through the Looking Glass, Alice is playing with her cats and is curious about what happens on the other side of mirrors.  So she goes to look in one and practically falls through it.  Where she lands is a total opposite universe; before, it was winter and snowing outside, and now it is a gorgeous summer day in a garden.  She eventually comes upon a giant game of chess, and that is what most of the book is about, her playing her way through the giant, life sized chess game.  When she finally grabs the Red Queen, she unknowingly puts the Red King into “checkmate” and is allowed to wake up.

Now, you may be thinking, “This isn’t Alice in Wonderland, I saw the movie and it was nothing like this.”  Well, the newest movie (which came out in 2010) is almost like a third part to the series.  In the movie, Alice is 19 and well,  it is fairly similar to Alice in Wonderland, but in the movie Alice slays the Jabberwocky.  Which didn’t happen in either book.  In Through the Looking Glass,  Alice reads a poem about the Jabberwocky and someone killing it, but never does herself.

Both these fabulous books are by Charles Lutwidge Dodgson, most commonly know by his pseudonym Lewis Carroll.  Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland was written in 1865, as one book.

As Tommy takes his initial glances at Rockefeller Center, he sees things that are similar, such as children playing the way that he did with his siblings, and he also discovers new delights, such as the smell of pumpkin spice.  His adventures continue, as he attempts to skate on the ice rink and roams the streets of New York.

His adventures continue in this busy city, culminating in a fateful meeting on Christmas Eve.  Although Tommy is homesick and tired from this journey, he is encouraged to continue traveling by his new friend.  As Tommy realizes:

For if he always stayed so close to his childhood tree,
he would never become all the squirrel he could be.

What lies ahead is uncertain, but it seems that Tommy should have many grand destinations in his future.  These books will provide children with any interesting and compelling way to learn about different regions and their cultures.  Tommy is a cute and friendly squirrel that should be appealing to early elementary aged children. Written in poetic form with illustrations on every page, this book will keep the attention of readers and non-readers alike.

For a simple and fun way to introduce children to the big, wide world, give The Most Well-Traveled Squirrel in the Whole Wide World a read.  If you’re looking for related activities to use with this book, check out the resources on their website.

Editor’s note: We were provided with a complimentary copy of this book in order to review it.  However, the opinion reflected in this article belongs solely to the reviewer. 

In those days, there was no literature addressing the issue of cancer and the threat of death that loomed over the patient, not to mention how those who were left behind should deal with the loss. Recently, I came across A Monster Calls as I wandered through the local bookstore. Written by Patrick Ness and illustrated by Jim Kay, it’s categorized as a children’s book, albeit those aged 12-15 years (it should really be a young adult book, then, shouldn’t it?), but had been shelved in the Horror section.

Ness worked with the notes author Siobhan Dowd made before her premature death in 2007 to spin the tale of Conor, a 9-year-old boy dealing with life after his mother is diagnosed with breast cancer.

Between having breakfast on his own and possessing the ability to bring conversations in school to a dead halt by just coming into view (no one knows what to say to him), Conor must also deal with a monster that has formed from a yew tree in the garden, and who promises Conor that it will get him. Call it a giant, an elemental, or just a talking tree, this monster is different from the one that plagues Conor’s nightmares; it wants the Truth from the boy.

In reading the book, I could see why the employees had shelved it where I’d found it. Like many others who read it, I found A Monster Calls hard going, but also supremely difficult to put down.

A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens tends to be the first pick when it comes to Christmas reading sessions. However, I remember that my cousins and I were quite thrilled when the uncle read How the Grinch Stole Christmas! by Dr. Seuss one year. After all, what can you say of the Grinch, a sourpuss whose heart is “2 sizes too small,” who isolates himself on Mt. Crumpit away from the rest of Whoville, and who steals the entire town’s Christmas decorations, Who-ham, and presents to “prevent Christmas from coming” and keep everything nice and quiet for himself?

Those of us who are weary of the commercial trappings of Christmas would appreciate the finer nuances of How the Grinch Stole Christmas! while every child to whom I’ve seen the story read celebrates at how the Grinch eventually “gets” Christmas.

When I watched the film, which seemed familiar to me, I had no idea that The Polar Express was based on the Caldecott Medal-winning book written and illustrated by Chris Van Allsburg in 1985. Eventually, I remembered that my uncle had also read this book, in which a young boy travels with other children to the North Pole on the eponymous train, and which placed great emphasis on the magic of Christmas and belief, at one of our family Christmas gatherings.

As the story progressed, my uncle would turn the book around so that we could see the moody, muted illustrations that punctuated the 32 pages. In contrast to the film, the illustrations in The Polar Express were reminiscent of a time long-gone, and are not as stark as the images of Christmas you find nowadays.

We don’t have Christmas reading sessions anymore, but I still make it a point to read such books at Christmastime. All together now: “Twas the night before Christmas, when all thro’ the house/Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse…”

Stargirl is the story of Leo, our narrator, and his experiences through his junior year of high school with the new girl at school, Stargirl. Stargirl, her self-imposed moniker, is the definition of unique. She has a pet rat, Cinnamon, who lives in her purse, puts a flower vase on her desk for each class of the day, and plays “Happy Birthday” on her ukulele to people in the lunchroom — even people she doesn’t know. She immediately intrigues Leo, and he finds himself fascinated by her odd charm.

Stargirl is kind to everyone, open-minded, eager to please, and completely unaware of why this makes her different. Naturally, this makes her a target for the other students. Frustrated by his peers’ reactions, Leo asks her a simple question: Why can’t she be like everyone else? With that, Stargirl transforms herself into the typical teenager, and Leo sees just what it’s like for everyone to follow the crowd.

After the book was published, some schools began creating “Stargirl Societies” — groups that celebrate nonconformity and community service. Spinelli has since published a list of suggested activities on his website for others to start their own Stargirl Societies. All activities promote tolerance, kindness to others, and developing a sense of community. With all the mentions of bullying in the media, and how dangerous it can be, I think Stargirl’s message is a good one for kids to hear. It’s so easy to follow the norm, and do what everyone else is doing — but is this always right? Stargirl shows readers that being different is not only not wrong, but can actually be a good thing.

In contrast, Boy by Roald Dahl is a darker picture of life in an English boarding school. To be sure, there are palpable differences between public and private schools, and all-boys’ and all-girls’ schools, but I think I behaved in school because I never wanted to get caned the way he did in the book.

One useful thing I learnt from Boy was that if you intend to fake appendicitis and go home for the day, the region under which your appendix is supposed to be has to feel rigid and slightly warm.

The importance of hygiene was also pointed out in the episode concerning Mrs. Pratchett the sweet shop owner, who had the filthiest, grubbiest hands you could imagine, and who would use those very same hands to dole out the sweets children came to buy from her. After all, wouldn’t you hide a dead mouse in a jar of candy just to teach her a lesson too?

I must also say that I was disappointed that I didn’t have an ancient half-sister on whose fiancé I could play pranks. Since I read (and reread) Boy, I have been on the lookout for sheep droppings with which I could use to substitute pipe tobacco. The only problem is, I don’t know any pipe-smokers, or where sheep roam around these parts.

The one thing that has stuck with me through the years, though, is how awesome it is to be given free candy and told to taste and review it. Also, if you’ve fractured your arm in a fall, check that the doctor is sober first before allowing him anywhere near you.

I realize The Magical Christmas Horse is supposed to be for children aged 4–8 years (although there seems to be a lot of text for 4-year-olds to pore over), but there’s nothing stopping those who are young at heart from enjoying it too. If anything, the book might give my aunt ideas for her next cake or batch of decorated cookies!

The Magical Christmas Horse tells the tale of how young Johnny’s wish of having the entire family together at his grandparents’ Connecticut home for Christmas comes true. Unfortunately, that happiness threatens to be dampened by the rundown state of the wooden horse he has promised to gift to his younger brother Liam. Nevertheless, Johnny finds the horse and the race against time begins for his father and grandfather to restore the horse to its former glory.

Except for the titular horse, it’s strange how everything at Johnny’s grandparents’ home looks the same as it did so many years ago. Odder still, the horse, which is supposed to have been in the family for generations, was lent to a neighbor one Christmas long ago and wasn’t returned.

The more I think about it, the weirder it sounds. Why neglect something that’s been in your family for so long? On the other hand, the horse isn’t the first-ever heirloom to be shoddily treated. In any case, I will continue to marvel over Wendell Minor’s illustrations, which were what drew me to the book in the first place. They take me back to my Enid Blyton days, for some reason, and make me pine for Christmases I never experienced.

Granted, the writing, of which there is a lot, is protracted, and Johnny seems to be cut from an entirely different and unreal cloth compared to other older brothers. Even so, The Magical Christmas Horse deserves a place on the bookshelf by virtue of its enchanting illustrations and the sense of nostalgia it evokes (in me, at any rate).

But all good things must come to an end, and so do bad things.  So Billy Bones has to go, but not the way you expect — he gets killed by some old shipmates.  Jim starts thinking and realizes that Billy had a trunk where he kept his money, and he did owe Jim and his mother some dough, so they find his key and go get the money.  They hear the old shipmates coming so they rush to leave, but just as they are about to go, a very peculiar oilskin sack catches Jim’s eye,  so he snags it.  Once they get away, he opens it and there is a treasure map inside! He and his friends, Squire Trelawny and Dr.Livesy, decide to head out to find the treasure.

On their journey there they encounter many difficulties, one of which is a mutiny!  Jim accidentally hears about it after he falls asleep in the apple barrel.  The mutineers are pirates — several of them  have sneaked through the hiring process, and now almost all the crew is criminal.  The evil pirates are trying to plan a mutiny; they are going to kill the good guys.  Luckily, the pirates decide to hold off until they hit land.  The good guys run away and find a stockade that they stay in to hide from the pirates.

Jim gets bored and decides to go walk around.  He sees the Jolly Rancher on the Hispaniola (their ship) and decides to go take it over.  He gets there and declares himself captain because the only person on the boat is injured.  He gets it over to the other side of the island and right as he is about to leave the pirate attacks him.  They fight and Jim finally ends it with a fatal shot to the chest.  The pirate (who is now dead) falls off the ship and Jim heads back to the stockade just to find out that it’s been  taken over by pirates.

Now I could be nice and tell you what happened and give it all away, but then you wouldn’t read the book.  I’m thinking that I just might be a devious little girl and not tell you if Jim leaves or if they find the treasure.  I think I just might make you read the book to find out what happens.

First, you must completely forget what being a child was like; kids need to grow up fast in this big bad world, and it’s your duty to instruct them on how they should live. Any writer who aims to show children a window into a different, enchanting world is clearly going about it the wrong way.

Dispense with good pacing altogether, but include as much tangential imagery as possible. This is so that junior readers learn to appreciate the abstract appeal of how paint can go through a number of hue changes as it dries, rather than reading yet another clichéd description of a beautiful spring day.

Avoid interacting with your target audience wherever possible. After all, you’re the writer, they’re the readers. Since that’s the case, surely who knows what makes a children’s book a great read must be clear.

Opt not to follow through with the compelling alternate universe you’ve created, and pass it off as a fever dream or an idle daydream. Everyone knows that stories are made up anyway, so there’s no need to bother laboring over that keyboard and grinding out exactly how Timmy escapes from the bloodthirsty goblins, if at all.

It’s also perfectly fine to adopt a dry, didactic tone for your children’s book. Readers should learn something from the books they read, so the clearer the lesson in the story, the better. In fact, you should probably dispense with characters, a storyline, and artful development altogether and opt for a list of values the reader should gain. It’s so much easier and will save you a lot of writing time.

However, if you do decide to use a plot and characters, ensure that you trot out every stereotype possible. Kids love it when hapless princesses need a prince on a horse to rescue them from a life of kitchen drudgery. Don’t forget to include a section on how only boys should go to school.

Lastly, get someone to do the writing for you. You’ll get the credit for having such a brilliant idea if the book becomes popular, but it won’t be your fault if the writing is poor and the book becomes another piece of literary jetsam.