Easter

EASTER
Today mom woke me at the crack of dawn,
Breakfast was apple cinnamon puree,
We went on an egg search out on the lawn,
Everything had seemed to go my way!

Things were great until its arrival time,
Death had come in a frightening white van,
The door had opened and out it did climb,
To the naked eye half rabbit half man.

Its fluffy white fur of terror and fear,
Walking on hind legs it lifted me high,
Sat down and into my eyes it did peer,
So frightening I just wanted to die!

That is the pic of the actual day,
I sure hope Santa is not the same way!

Fourth Quarter Book Review

What the Dickens by Gregory Maguire. Candlewick Press, 2007. Fiction/Fantasy

“Fourth Quarter Outside Reading Book Review”

Gregory Maguire is not only an author, but a middle school English teacher. He gave his students an assignment to write about a meeting between an extraordinary creature and a normal human. The result of his own writing example developed into What the Dickens,
a story within a story. It is about three children stranded in a huge storm, who are entertained by a story told to them by their older cousin. The story provides distraction and a lesson, as the kids hear about a mysterious creature known as a skibbereen, one of many such beings who become a tooth fairy.

The New York Times Book Review says about What the Dickens that “Gregory Maguire does for the dark and stormy night what he did for witches in Wicked.”

Wicked, now famous as a Broadway play, also began as a novel with an original point-of-view. The classic Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum was rewritten from the Wicked Witch of the West’s perspective. In What the Dickens the reader is treated to a new understanding of how tooth fairies may come to be as the adventurous story gradually unfolds. What the Dickens is the name of the title character, an innocent creature trying to find his identity. He is born not knowing his name or purpose, and seeks other skibereen like himself. He does find companionship, society, and meaning in his world.

The author uses the storytelling and the characters to look at how imagination affects human and creature development. The real children have grown up in a sheltered environment, and have been homeschooled. They have been taught that they must “govern themselves against imagination”. Yet they are told to believe and follow Bible stories. Gage, the babysitting cousin, points out that “the existence of stories is real”, and that through “accidents and acts of the imagination” is “how we make ourselves and how we are made.” The story ends with the understanding that story, prayer, and magic are all correct, and all exist for the betterment of the world.

“Have I got this right? wondered What –the-Dickens. The possibility of wishing strengthens the imagination to consider, at times, that things could improve. Could be different. They could. They might.”(303)

I liked the thought that imagination is a possibility, a form of hope, and that being open to creativity opens your world. I was also amused that Cousin Gage was an English teacher, and Maguire’s own love of English was obvious. There were references within the story of at least seven other famous books, and the skibbereens kept repeating that “math was a myth.” The book jumped back and forth between the “actual” story of the kids being stranded and the “pretend” story that was being told to distract them from their predicament, but the message of imagination and creativity applied to both situations.

I also enjoyed the story for its language. “He sneezed, issuing a little crumpled fold of a sound.” (39) The writing had an almost fairy-tale feel to it, crossed with a late night ghost story. It was creepy at times, showed a great sense of humor and really made me think. I also appreciated that it was unique, unlike anything I’ve read before. It made me want to blow out a birthday candle, make a wish, and see what could come true.

George Washington

Life is full of challenges. Real people and literary characters are similar in that they are often defined through their struggles. Older people have the experience of time, an opportunity to face long unique sets of obstacles that become the milestones of their lives. Hardships might result from nature, fate or society. The character of Santiago faces challenges from all three in Ernest Hemingway’s novella The Old Man and the Sea.


The most obvious struggle that the old man faces is with nature. The story is set far out on the Gulf Stream, past where other fishermen are expected to roam. The author places the action there deliberately, emphasizing that the struggle between Santiago and his prey would have no human interference, but would be a battle between man and nature. “My choice was to go there to find him beyond all people,” stated Santiago. “And no one to help either of us” (50). This isolated setting made the battle a primal struggle more intense for the reader because it was simplified into a struggle between man and enemy.


The fish that the old man battles is abnormally huge, a mammoth marlin capable of providing a battle that lasts for days. Santiago needs to use all of his strength and wits to match the fish’s strength. He acknowledges that the match is even, and shows respect for his enemy. “Never have I seen a greater or more beautiful or a calmer or more noble thing than you brother” (92). Santiago adopted a reverent tone towards the enemy because the reader feels that the struggle carries an almost spiritual importance. Although he honors the fish, he also understands that it is necessary for survival to catch it.


The old man also faces the challenges presented by his own advanced years. “No one should be alone in their old age, he thought” (48). He must remind himself to eat, as he is becoming forgetful. Santiago battles hunger and poverty. Yet he battles these challenges with faith and his spirit is strong. “Everything about him was old except his eyes and they were the same color as the sea and they were cheerful and undefeated” (10).


Santiago has to fight the hopelessness of old age, not with himself, but the lack of faith in him shown by others. Although he had his young friend have faith that he will succeed in his quest, others do not believe. “Many of the fishermen made fun of the old man and he was not angry" (11). He had his own faith in himself and the support of a young boy whom he had taught to fish. Others have trouble believing that an old man such as Santiago could possibly catch anything of size or worth.


Fate is responsible for some of Santiago’s failures. He has not caught anything in eighty four days. Santiago tried to put a good face on things, reassuring his young friend with an endless spirit of optimism. “Eighty five is a lucky number” (16). Yet, after he has lost the enormous fish and retires with nothing to show but an eighteen foot skeleton, he remarks, “Luck is a thing that comes in many forms and who can recognize her” (117)?


Santiago has faced challenges from nature, from society’s expectations of his failure, from age and from fate. At the end of the tale, he is exhausted and is technically no richer than he previously was. Yet the reader has been enriched by his adventure. Hemingway has created a character through struggle, one whose spirit and strength are larger then the fish he hunted.

Third Quarter Book Review

Redwall is the first novel in an adventurous fantasy series by Brian Jacques. Set in Mossflower Wood in medieval times, this tale revolves around the peaceful mice of Redwall Abbey, who are unexpectedly attacked by a horde of horrible rats led by fearsome Cluny the Scourge. A courageous mouse named Matthias takes up the lost sword of Martin the Warrior and leads the fight against the enemy in an effort to win peace once more for the citizens of the Abbey.

Locus calls Redwall an “old-fashioned swashbuckling adventure”, while Booklist describes it as “Provocative and enticing. From start to finish, readers and listeners will cheer the dwellers of Redwall.”

Although the characters are animals in a woodland, the book is not simplistic or cartoonish. The plot is complex and the characters are believable, thanks to the many detailed descriptions that the author uses. The reader is caught by the very first sentence. “Matthias cut a comical little figure as he wobbled his way along the cloisters, with his large sandals flip-flopping and his tail peeping from beneath the baggy folds of an oversized novice’s habit.” (3) The sophisticated language and choice in details allow the author to create a whole new world, one with a unique hero and memorable villain.

Perhaps the reason Mr. Jacques excels at unusual details and building adventure is because he has led a very adventurous life himself. He was at different times a comedian, a sailor, a longshoreman, and a radio host. Through his gift of storytelling the characters change and grow. A humble mouse becomes a legend, and a powerful foe comes to an undignified, but much deserved end. Even the secondary characters like Mortimer the Abbot and Old Methuseleh are easy to imagine.

Likewise the action is dramatic and fast-moving, keeping the reader’s interest. It is easy to envision the society that the author has created. The author uses repetition to build suspense. “Cluny is coming,” he ends the first few chapters, so that the villain’s entrance has really been anticipated.

“Standing boldly on the backboard of the hay cart was the biggest, fiercest, most evil-looking rat that had ever slunk out of a nightmare! In one claw he grasped a long pole with a ferret’s head spiked to it, while in the other was his thick, enormous tail, which he cracked like a whip.” (19)

I was surprised by Redwall, as I did not believe that a story about mice could appeal to anyone over age 10. Yet this book was a really entertaining adventure with an interesting storyline and characters that I will remember. I have not read any other books by Mr. Jacques, but I do plan to look into the next few books in the series.

"Time for Dry Weather"

I could feel my shirt sticking, damp with sweat, to the back of my neck. I made a conscious effort to straighten my posture and give a reassuring smile to the school nurse. She smiled back in a friendly way as she set up trays of little white plastic cups. I turned and made myself look busy. The day was finally here. I had worked so hard for her trust, for this position, for this moment in time. This was the moment when everything would change.

“I’ll be right back. I need to make a quick call.” I sent her another flirtatious smile, one of my best efforts. “Okay,” she responds, “but don’t be too long. They’ll be calling the kids down at any moment”. With a simple nod I turn into the cool safe corridor, keeping to the shadows as I head for the door.

“Mr. White, where are you going?” The voice stops me dead in my tracks.

“Mr. Whitcomb,” I greet the principal, “Just running out to my car for a moment. I forgot some of the paperwork necessary for today’s immunizations.” “Ah, paperwork,” the man grins, “the backbone of all school procedure. Don’t let me hold you up.” With a sip from the travel mug of coffee, he ambles away to his own morning business.

The blast of cool air outside is a welcome relief, and I feel the pressure of my own deceits subside, and the pleasure in a job well underway begins to rise to the surface. I move behind the old bus and reach for my cell, speed dialing one of the partners. He picks up on the first ring, and I identify myself with speed. “Rojas. Time for dry weather.” Clicking off, I replace the phone and inhale the sharp cool air. In five minutes, the water supply would no longer function, and any form of hand washing, or hygiene would be virtually eliminated.

That was not my part of the process, however. My responsibility to the plan still awaited. I hurried to the car, grabbing some blank white sheets. If the principal caught me again in the hall, my outright lie would be less apparent.

“I’m back. You need any more help setting up?”

“No, we’re ready” she smiles. “Thank goodness your team was able to get these immunization drinks for the student body. If the disease spread through town, it would be such a tragedy. All those lives lost for nothing, and these are just kids. Scary business, these germs. Thank God you are here.” Her blue eyes looked so open and grateful. If she only knew that all her mascara was going to run with the endless tears she would be shedding twenty-four hours from now.

“Would students from the first and second grades please report to the nurse’s office?” the annoying whine came over the loudspeaker. “Well,” I gave a daring wink, “Here goes nothing!”

The first students came in, a pretty blonde six-year old bravely taking a seat next to the nurse. “Down the hatch,” the nurse smiles as she hands the innocent white cup to the girl. “It doesn’t taste that bad, and it will keep you healthy and strong.”

Trustingly, the girl purses her lips and gulps down the drink. “It’s not bad,” she announces, “but I like chocolate milk better!” With a laugh and a pat, she is sent on her way to be replaced by a freckled boy, and then a smaller boy and the line moves on.

Each innocent face angered me more. They were users who just didn’t know it yet. They began by trusting the world only to be later crushed by worldly experience. Taught to be greedy consumers, to swallow limited resources and strip the world of beauty and wealth. They were mind-shaped by schools and government to grow into useless members of a corrupt society. They were vermin. And whether they knew it or not, their extermination would be a gift to the world.

Their death would mean a new chance for humankind to develop its true potential. I was proud to be among the shapers, a piece of the corporate plan that was unfolding in countless schools across the nation. These small towns would soon face the wrath of epidemic, the fury of a germ storm that would wreak havoc and break society. It would strip the nation bare and ready it for rebirth.

The hours of planning, the artificial approval of vaccines for general use, true vaccines that were then replaced by advanced mixtures of viral genius, the members who worked their way into trusted staff positions so that the deceptions could take place…there were hours, months, years of cooperative planning that were at this moment being swallowed by elementary children everywhere, And these children were carriers of contagion. The beauty and perfection of planning was breathtaking.

I watched as a tall dark child hesitated before downing the mixture. I wished I could have reassured him that he would never face the pain of being an adult in this doomed artificial society, and that his sacrifice would ensure the ultimate survival and happiness of his race. Those inoculated, like myself, had a true education. We would survive and breed and create a world deserving of its existence.

The nurse turned to me once more, and handed me more cups to refill. “You really are a savior,” she smiled. “These kids have no idea how lucky they are.”

“I know,” I replied. “I know.”