My goal for 2021 was 120 books, the same as last year, and I ended up reading 125. I can usually read 8-10 books a month, and I hope to continue that in 2022! As always, I read a fabulous amount of middle grade novels (often vintage MG!), supplemented with occasional bits of poetry, women’s fiction, and nonfiction. I had a much better reading year than last year–I was able to find more books that I especially enjoyed, which was such fun. So without further ado, here are my top favorites, organized into category! Happy Reading!

My Goodreads goal for 2021 will be to read 120 books. That means 10 books a month, which is my typical average. I’ve reached this number a couple of times before (the last two years, actually), so it’s not a significant challenge. But I’d like to delve into some longer books this year instead of the generally shorter ones that I enjoyed in 2020, and my hope is that I might find some new gems if I take the focus off sheer quantity. 🙂 I can’t wait to see what books I discover in 2021!

What were some books you loved in 2020? (Feel free to pass along some recommendations!)

I hope you are having a lovely spring! I am having such a good time planting a few early seeds, doing some weeding, and watching a certain chickadee gather materials for her nest. But as usual, I’m also deep in the throes of rewriting a novel (I’m at 26k), and I’m enjoying my reading as well.

With the assistance of a helpful librarian at the Kerlan Collection of the University of Minnesota Libraries, I was recently able to acquire some scans of Maud Hart Lovelace’s research materials for Emily of Deep Valley (1950), which provided an interesting window of insight into Lovelace’s method of pre-writing (at least for Emily). I’m very much fascinated by the behind-the-scenes processes of my favorite writers, which I am sure will inspire many more blog posts like this one today and this one from last year, which explores L.M. Montgomery’s possible influence on the novels of Noel Streatfeild and Margaret Sutton. That is my particular area of interest: how writers are influenced by the authors who came before them.

Speaking of scans from the Kerlan Collection, I was also able to study a letter written in 1958 by Noel Streatfeild to Elizabeth Enright, who was evidently one of her favorite authors. In this letter, Streatfeild complimented the Melendy Quartet books and wondered if perhaps the Melendy children’s father remarried after the series ended. Since this is exactly the idea that flitted through my brain the last time I read the series, I was utterly delighted by this and by the fact that Streatfeild wrote about the family as if they were real.

This example, too, fits into my niche of fascination, and leaves me with no doubt that Streatfeild was inspired by Enright when writing her own novels. Best of all, Streatfeild also mentioned how happy she was that Enright liked her books. This was perhaps the greatest discovery of all, for there are Streatfeild-esque traces in Enright’s The Four-Story Mistake (1942), in which Shakespeare-quoting Mona gets a job as a radio actress. (And the fact that Randy is an aspiring ballerina seals the deal.) Since the first Melendy book (The Saturdays) wasn’t published until 1941—and Ballet Shoes was from 1936—it’s safe to say that Streatfeild’s stage-inclined characters could have served as inspirations for the Melendy sisters.

Along similar lines is the way that Canadian author Jean Little (who sadly passed away last year) was influenced by L.M. Montgomery. My introduction to Montgomery’s Anne of Ingleside (1939), the sixth book in the Anne series and a recent re-read, was somewhat unusual. I was reading Little’s Spring Begins in March (1966), the sequel to her acclaimed Mine for Keeps (1962), and I came to the great scene where Meg’s grandmother reads aloud Anne of Ingleside. I had always steered clear of the book, thinking it sounded dull, but Little made the story sound so interesting that I had to give it a try.

I was subsequently swept up into the Ingleside world and immediately read Rainbow Valley (1919) and then Rilla of Ingleside (1921), despite repeated warnings from my older sisters that Walter died and it was Very Sad. But what made reading Rilla particularly interesting was that I had also just read another sequel of Jean Little’s: Listen for the Singing (1977), the heart-wrenching encore to From Anna (1972). The parallels between Listen for the Singing and Rilla of Ingleside are unmistakable: two Canadian wartime novels focused on a teenage girl’s coming of age alongside a brother who does not want to go to war (and yet who goes anyway, with ensuing tragedy). Since I already knew that Little had read Montgomery from that scene in Spring Begins in March, I wondered if she had modeled Anna Solden’s brother Rudi off of Walter Blythe. I suspect that it was an influence, whether consciously or not, and I hope to someday find a bit more concrete evidence to support my theory. Little was not without criticism of Montgomery—an article she wrote for Canadian Children’s Literature in 1975 confirms that—but she also praised the way Montgomery wrote her child characters.

But lest you think that Montgomery only inspired other writers and was not inspired by any herself, this is far from the case! When recently reading Longfellow’s epic poem Evangeline, I was enraptured by the Acadian tale but also enormously pleased to realize that here was where Montgomery doubtlessly found inspiration for her own prose. The tone and style and word choice convinced me, and this paragraph in her 1929 novel Magic for Marigold clinched it:

Lazarre was playing his fiddle behind the copse of young spruces back of the apple-barn—the old brown fiddle that his great-great-great-grandfather had brought from Grand Pré. Perhaps Evangeline had danced to it. Aunt Marigold had told Marigold the story of Evangeline.

But although poetry was a major source of influence for Montgomery, it was not her only inspiration. I’m fairly certain that she read Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women (1868-9)—I know I’ve read this fact somewhere but I can’t remember where at the moment—and it’s fun to note that Alcott uses the phrase “kindred spirit” twice in Little Women; the phrase that Montgomery borrowed so memorably for Anne of Green Gables. Nowadays, the words “kindred spirit” are almost synonymous with Anne and Montgomery, and I love that it was perhaps Alcott who helped to influence Montgomery’s usage of the phrase.

These are just a few of the tidbits I’ve been pondering lately—including how Maud Hart Lovelace, as mentioned at the beginning of this post, may have been inspired by Montgomery’s books—but I shall have to close now. In any event, I’ll probably return to this subject soon, because I’m finding it pretty fun to wade through all this bookish conjecture!

And speaking of bookish conjecture … I have some *very exciting* news coming up hopefully later this year, so if you’d like to be one of the first to know, make sure you’re signed up to my newsletter!

Recently Read: The Boxcar Children by Gertrude Chandler Warner, The Four-Story Mistake by Elizabeth Enright
Currently Reading: Depend on Katie John by Mary Calhoun, Nothing to Do but Stay by Carrie Young

At the close of this first month of the new year, here’s a quick update on my current books (and other things)!

What I’m reading …

I read eleven books in January to kick off 2021! Among my (new) favorites: The Anne of Green Gables Devotional by Rachel Dodge, a heartfelt read full of inspiring verses with charming illustrations; Karina Yan Glaser’s The Vanderbeekers Lost and Found, the fourth volume in the Vanderbeekers series and perhaps the most poignant yet; Best Friends by Mary Bard (1950s fun about a French girl moving to the US); Francie on the Run, the second book in Hilda van Stockum’s Bantry Bay trilogy. Rereads included Kate DiCamillo’s 20th-anniversary edition of Because of Winn-Dixie (with slightly altered text), and Jane of Lantern Hill (L.M. Montgomery), which I am having the fun of discussing with friends in a book group right now.

What I’m planning to read …

Some brand-new books just arrived in the mail, and here’s why I can’t wait to read them:

Emily’s Runaway Imagination (1961): I’m working on filling in my Beverly Cleary library, having stuck mainly to the Ramona books and her “First Love” series. I just read Mitch and Amy (1967) and liked it quite a bit, so I’m eager to read this one, a rare historical story from Cleary set in the 1920s.

The Four Graces (1946): A Little Women retelling-of-sorts set in WWII in an English village and written by D.E. Stevenson? What could be better? 🙂

Carney’s House Party (1949): I just bought this lovely two-pack that includes both Carney and Winona, two Deep Valley novels by Maud Hart Lovelace. I just read Winona’s Pony Cart for the first time last year and greatly enjoyed it, and now I’m looking forward to rereading Carney’s House Party.

L.M. Montgomery’s Short Stories, 1907-1908: Montgomery’s short stories often have such wonderful characters and situations that I end up wishing she’d lengthened them into more novels!

Two Little Women (1915): I read the second book in this trilogy in 2009 and the third in 2010, and I have finally bought myself a copy of the first book! Carolyn Wells’ writing is so breezy and fun.

Not pictured but also on my list: Jennifer Dances (1954): A 1910s-era story by Eunice Young Smith about a girl who moves to Chicago to live with aunt and takes up ballet. It sounds so sweet!

What I’m writing …

I am nearly finished with my current middle grade novel – only about 7k left to write – and then I’m going to be focusing on a revision of a middle grade manuscript I wrote for NaNoWriMo in 2018! I am so excited about it, and I’m gathering research materials and searching for inspiration!

What else I’ve been enjoying…

Scrapbooking, looking through old family photos, feeding sugar cubes to sweet ponies, listening to Annette Funicello songs and Strauss’ Annen Polka, doing writing sprints with friends, gathering quotes for an interview piece for Inside Gymnastics, watching Greta Gerwig’s Little Women, and other delightful things. I’ve also been planning this summer’s garden, buying seeds and calculating how many flower beds I’ll need. I am hoping for an early spring so that I can get a head start on my seeds, particularly the Madame Butterfly snapdragons. For the first time, I’ll be planting glorious orange nasturtiums (a flower found in Jane of Lantern Hill, as mentioned above), and I’m crossing my fingers that – unlike last year – my pink poppies will actually come to fruition!

What have you been doing to brighten the long January days? Let me know in the comments! 🙂 

As always, I love setting myself a good reading challenge for the year, and my goal for 2020 was 125 books, considerably more than last year’s goal of 75. I made it to 135 books, which was definitely fun! As usual, the majority of my yearly reading list was comprised of vintage middle grade novels – but there was a bit of variety as well! In 2018, I described my reading journey as an “ongoing quest to find wondrous new books to inspire my writing” – and I found plenty of inspiration over the past twelve months among the pages of these books. So here is a general overview of my 2020 reading year! I’ve organized my favorites into categories, starting off with my Ultimate Favorite Books of 2020. Happy Reading!

My 2021 Reading Challenge

My Goodreads goal for 2021 will be to read 120 books. That means 10 books a month, which is my typical average. I’ve reached this number a couple of times before (the last two years, actually), so it’s not a significant challenge. But I’d like to delve into some longer books this year instead of the generally shorter ones that I enjoyed in 2020, and my hope is that I might find some new gems if I take the focus off sheer quantity. 🙂 I can’t wait to see what books I discover in 2021!

What were some books you loved in 2020? (Feel free to pass along some recommendations!)

I’ve been rereading the novels of Elizabeth Enright for the past few months, because they’re *so* re-readable and absolutely perfect for this time of year. For me, there is such a sense of delight in Enright’s familiar descriptions of summers in the countryside, of searching for butterflies and exploring old houses and finding arrowheads. The summers she spent on her uncle’s Wisconsin farm definitely influenced her writing and the way she observed nature and recorded it in both a realistic and whimsical manner.

In case you haven’t yet met her wondrous world of books, here’s an overview of her novels in chronological order of publication:

Thimble Summer (1938)

A Newbery medal winner, this slim book is perhaps the most well-known of Enright’s works. There are delicious moments like when Garnet and her best friend get accidentally locked in the library, and when Garnet goes to the county fair. A fresh breeze of a book! This is also her first novel for children.

The Sea Is All Around (1940)

A tribute to Maine and all its magic, this is a gentle story of a girl going to live with her aunt in a remote wilderness and making new friends. It has a delicate beauty to its gorgeous prose, and although it’s very hard to find, The Sea Is All Around is well worth the search!

The Saturdays (1941)

This book kicks off the Melendy Quartet series in grand style. At this point in Enright’s career, her writing was becoming a bit faster-paced, and the acceleration improves her already engaging prose. The four Melendy siblings pool their minimal allowances so that they can each enjoy a special Saturday outing of their own.

The Four-Story Mistake (1942)

The Melendys move from their New York City apartment building to a fabulous old home in the country, where they uncover a secret room that’s been boarded up for years—among other adventures! This story is even better on audio.

Then There Were Five (1944)

Here’s a quintessential portrait of a five children enjoying an old-fashioned summer—including stargazing, fruit canning, and all the glories of August—depicted with Enright’s usual stunning imagery.

Spiderweb for Two (1951)

My personal favorite of Enright’s books is this story you simply can’t put down, a gem that caps off the Melendy series. Part mystery and part ode to autumn, this book features the youngest of the four siblings on a humorous quest to unravel a mysterious string of riddles.

Gone-Away Lake (1957)

I recently revisited this classic tale of two cousins (and best friends) who discover a nearly abandoned resort community by the lake and some fascinating new friends who know all the stories of the village’s past.

Return to Gone-Away (1961)

We read this one last year as part of our Summer of Vintage Kid Lit, and I loved returning to Portia and Julian’s unforgettable adventures—this time as they explore and renovate a dilapidated mansion.

To say that I wish there were more Enright novels would be an understatement—there is just something so unique about her descriptions, metaphors, realistic characters, and settings.

I encourage you to pick up one of these in September! Summer is coming to a close, and it’s the perfect time to indulge in an Elizabeth Enright story. 🙂

Recently Read: The Kirsten series by Janet Shaw, The Meeting Place by Janette Oke and T. Davis Bunn, The Cabin Faced West by Jean Fritz

Currently Reading: The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett, Cherry Ames: Department Store Nurse by Helen Wells

Are you looking for a lovely classic children’s novel to read? In this post, I’m introducing you to the story of the Carr family, which is told in What Katy Did and its four sequels. When I reread the first two books a few years ago, I was very happy to discover that I liked them just as much as ever. These novels were published in the late nineteenth century, and the series focuses on a large, happy New England family.

The first two books are absolutely wonderful. The initial book is Katy’s coming-of-age story and chronicles how she changes from a rambunctious little girl to a poised young woman throughout many challenges and setbacks. When What Katy Did was first published in 1872, The Boston Globe wrote of the novel: “The story belongs to that class of children’s books in which an attempt  is made to represent children as they really are, and at the same time, to introduce such incidents as give, on the whole, a good direction to their impulses and wills.”[1]

I find it interesting that I found the books so readable and rereadable when I was nine or ten years old—because at that time, I was a very slow reader, and it was hard for me to get through books that were written in a more old-fashioned style. But that wasn’t a problem at all with these books!

I actually read them out of order—my first introduction to Katy was in the second volume of the series, What Katy Did at School. I was nine years old and fascinated by the regulated (but terribly sophisticated!) boarding school that Katy and her sister Clover attend. They’re just so much fun—the characters seem so real, and the dialogue is excellently written (and seems much more modern than it is).

The last three books in the series are not my absolute favorite, but they do contain some fun elements as well. The third book follows Katy as she sails to Europe, goes sightseeing, and, naturally, meets a handsome lieutenant. And of course, you’re going to want to read the entire series to know who marries who, and where all the family members end up living. I will not divulge any spoilers, but let me say that the Carrs are a well-traveled family.

Here’s a little something about the author: Susan Coolidge was the pseudonym for Sarah Chauncey Woolsey, who wrote many short stories and poems and also edited a book of Jane Austen’s letters. She grew up in New England, and at the time she wrote the Katy books, she was living in New Jersey. I do a lot of genealogy, so I looked up some records about Susan and discovered a passport for her. The date of this record was 1872, which is fourteen years before she wrote What Katy Did Next. When I read What Katy Did Next, I was struck by the amazing details in the book, and I thought that the author had to be writing from experience to be able to describe everything so well. So now I think that she probably did go to Europe, as the passport would suggest, and possibly referred to letters or diaries from her trip to help write the third Katy book. (I also found her census enumeration in 1900, and her occupation is listed as “authoress!”)  🙂

I was listening to the first two on audio recently (I downloaded the Librivox versions read by Karen Savage). One thing that I found interesting when I was listening to What Katy Did at School for the first time was that the story takes place in 1868. And so I started doing some figuring and I realized that the first volume of the series is supposed to be set in 1863. So What Katy Did is supposed to be taking place about the same time as Little Women. And I don’t get that feeling at all reading it—I would have thought the Katy books were contemporary to the 1870s, which is when the first two novels were published. Perhaps this is because Susan Coolidge set out to write a book based on her family, and she grew up in the 1830s and 40s. And I wonder if the fact that she was reminiscing about an earlier era when she wrote them might have contributed to the sort of timelessness of the books (and consequently, the lack of an authentic 1860s feel).

Speaking of Little Women, I read that Susan Coolidge’s publisher, Roberts Brothers, was also Louisa May Alcott’s publisher. And I believe I read that like Louisa, Susan was inspired to write about a family that was modeled after her own. So while What Katy Did did not end up enjoying the amazing success that Little Women did, it has had a lasting impact on me and—I am sure—many other readers. I invite you to check out the books for yourself—because basically, if you love Little Women and Anne of Green Gables, you do not want to miss out on these! Happy Reading!

[1] The Boston Globe, December 4, 1872, pg. 1

Discovering a Classic

I recently reread Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women. When I first read this book two years ago, in February 2018, I immediately added it to my list of treasured favorite novels. I couldn’t put the book down once I started it, and I found the same to be true even in rereading. There’s something so compelling about this age-old classic, something that has clearly transcended the decades and continues to delight generations of readers.

When I first read the book, it was like flinging open a newly-discovered door of possibilities. After I picked it up and devoured it whole (reading the entire 180k+ word book in a week), I rushed to read its sequels (Little Men and Jo’s Boys) and found them entertaining (but not nearly as incredible as their predecessor). I hurried to watch the 1994 film, a modern classic in its own right, directed by Gillian Armstrong and full of lush sets, gorgeous costumes, and a beautiful soundtrack. I hastened to read Invincible Louisa, the 1934 Newbery medal-winning biography of Louisa May Alcott. Since then I’ve also listened to a BBC radio adaptation (which I highly recommend)!

Going back to the beginning, I tried to read Little Women when I was nearly eleven years old, and bogged down somewhere around the time that Meg goes to “Vanity Fair.” The lengthy descriptions were too long for me to get through. I wanted to love Little Women—it was such a thick, substantial volume with lovely illustrations—but it was a bit too difficult.

Fast forward to 2018, and I decided to give it another chance.  I was curious to read the book because I had just read Edward Eager’s The Time Garden, a witty story in which the contemporary characters time-travel to the world of Alcott’s characters in 1860s Concord. (I appreciated the allusions in fuller context after I’d read Little Women.)

I also had just finished reading Jack and Jill, which I also enjoyed immensely. (Little Women was not my first introduction to Alcott’s work—a heartwarming collection of Christmas short stories, gifted to me by my grandmother in 2016, was the first book of hers I ever read, followed by An Old-Fashioned Girl.)

Books like Little Women don’t come along every day, and I am endlessly glad now that I didn’t read it until I was old enough to truly appreciate the story.

Connections to Jeanne Birdsall’s Penderwicks series

The main reason that I gave the book another try is because the finale of the five-volume Penderwicks series was releasing in May 2018. “The idea of the original four Penderwick sisters came from Little Women,” Jeanne Birdsall, the author of the series, wrote on her website[1]. I was tremendously curious to find out if Jeffrey was going to marry Skye (the Jo character) or Batty (the [possibly] Amy character—more on this later). Hoping to find clues in Little Women to the outcome of my beloved series, I began reading.

I was already fairly convinced that Jeffrey would fall in love with Batty. The careful foreshadowing in the first books in the series strongly indicated this conclusion, and seemed to echo the wrap-up of Little Women. But although I liked Jeffrey and Batty as a couple, I braced myself to dislike the Laurie/Amy pairing, since everybody did. However, I was pleasantly surprised to discover that I didn’t mind that ending. Of course I would have preferred Jo to “relent and marry Laurie,” as author Maud Hart Lovelace put it so aptly[2], but because I knew the ending beforehand, I was able to appreciate the subtleties of Laurie and Amy’s relationship and their whirlwind European romance. I was less impressed by Jo’s marriage to Professor Bhaer, but I also wondered if that outcome—the Jo character marrying an older man—meant that her Penderwicks counterpart Skye would eventually marry the “older man” character of Nick Geiger. The fact that Nick showed up all of a sudden in the fourth book and staked his claim as a major character made me wonder if he would play a significant role in the series finale.

Well, I was correct about Jeffrey and Batty, but wrong about Skye and Nick. (Nick hardly appeared in The Penderwicks At Last). I recently read someone else’s theory online, suggesting that Skye’s marriage to a student from the Czech Republic was actually an even more pointed parallel to Professor Bhaer. I loved this theory, and wish that this had been explored and expanded so that we could come to know Skye’s husband as well as we know the professor. I also wish that he could have had more lines (and at least one in English).

But is it true that Skye equals Jo, and Batty equals Amy? Obviously Jeffrey is Laurie, having been cast in the role of the next door neighbor boy who is accepted into the family. Skye resembles Jo because of her status as the second-oldest sister in the family, her feisty temper, and the fact that she has the one tomboyish name in the quartet (Skye being a much different name than Rosalind, Jane, or Elizabeth [which is Batty’s full name]). Readers have pointed out that Jane is the writer in the family, the aspiring authoress with all the wild ideas and imagination, while Skye is prosaic to a fault. But it is Skye, not Jane, who rejects Jeffrey’s attentions and has issues with her youngest sister Batty—which mirror Jo’s rebuff of Laurie’s proposal and arguments with Amy.

So does this mean that Batty is Amy? I’m more inclined to link Batty to Beth—both are sweet, quiet pianists who love animals. Batty has little common with Amy, save being the youngest of four sisters and eventually winding up with the Jeffrey/Laurie character. (Also notice the fact that Batty and Beth share an initial.)

More credence can be given to the Batty/Beth theory if you consider the section in Little Women when Jo mistakenly thinks that Beth has fallen in love with Laurie. I was surprised by this scene when I read the book, because it’s such an interesting addition to the story. It is partly because Jo is hoping that Laurie will forget about her and focus on Beth that she leaves for New York, where she meets Professor Bhaer. Fascinatingly, you can compare this sequence of events directly to the Penderwicks series: Skye leaves her family (and Jeffrey) behind when she heads off to her California college, where she meets the intellectual foreign man whom she ends up marrying. Skye also harbors hopes that Jeffrey will end up caring for Batty instead of her.

Additional Observations

I had a major revelation during my reread of the book. A highly important order of events in Little Women were shifted for the ’94 film, influencing my own reaction to the story. In the book, Jo goes to New York, meets Professor Bhaer, and—upon her return—rejects Laurie’s proposal of marriage. In the film, the order is reversed (to the story’s detriment, in my opinion). I think the Jo’s coming-of-age character arc is much stronger in the book, leaving you with a better opinion of her marriage choice.

As much as I love the film, it still doesn’t quite capture the nuances of the story and characters that I love best. The March sisters are extraordinarily multidimensional, a fact that tends to get lost in adaptations that have to compress the story to adhere to a shorter length.

Here’s a Twitter thread that I created during my reread, with more notes that I took:

1 – There’s an interesting subplot in which Jo thinks Beth is in love with Laurie. What might have happened if this was true, and if Beth had lived and told Laurie about her feelings?

2 – In the second half of the book, the chapters about Meg feel disconnected from the rest of plot. Jo’s, Beth’s, and Amy’s stories weave seamlessly together, but Meg’s do not. I wish Meg’s subplots had been more vital to the overall plot.

3 – As soon as Professor Bhaer is introduced, it’s immediately clear that Jo will end up marrying him. What if there had been a third possible love interest thrown into the mix? Perhaps one of her editors? That might have been fascinating.

4 – Although Jo and Amy have a difficult time getting along throughout the novel, they are the sisters who are most alike. Both are highly independent and determined, and even Amy has some tomboyish aspects to her character. In personality, Beth and Meg are similar as well.

Not long ago, I read a review of Little Women in which the reviewer felt that the characters didn’t seem real to her…I was a little shocked. The Alcott sisters seem like some of the most realistic and relatable girls I’ve ever read about (and not surprisingly, since they were closely based on the author’s own family). The humor of their family life and foibles, particularly in the first half of the book, is so spot-on. For me, rereading the book was like reuniting with old friends—and I think many other readers feel the same way.

There is a new film version of the book out now—it premiered last Christmas. I have yet to see it, but I am looking forward to comparing it to the 1994 movie and to the novel itself. I have read about director Greta Gerwig’s careful attention to detail, her array of inspirations, and the unusual story structure that she chose for telling the story in a new way. I am curious to see how the new cast interprets the characters.

In my mind, films and radio dramas and audiobooks and illustrations—and yes, even sequels—are complementary aspects to the books themselves. They enhance and allow you to look at the story in a new way. But they can never take the place of the story itself. This story is one of the finest, and therefore, one of the hardest to improve upon.

[1] Jeanne Birdsall’s Frequently Asked Questions, www.jeannebirdsall.com/faqs

[2] The Betsy-Tacy Companion by Sharla Scannell Whalen, Portalington Press 1995, pg. 97

I’m excited to begin week twelve of my #SummerofVintageKidLit! If you haven’t yet heard about my summer reading challenge, you can take a look at my recent blog post that has all the details.

Last week we read Baby Island, and you can read my quick recap in the comments of this post 🙂

This week, we’re reading Edward Eager’s “The Time Garden.” I am such a fan of Edward Eager’s wildly witty stories. He wrote a seven-book series beginning with “Half Magic,” and this is the fourth volume of that series. I’ve been looking forward to revisiting this one – the chapter featuring the Little Women characters is particularly hilarious!

Here’s a summary about this book from Goodreads:

From the moment Roger, Ann, Eliza, and Jack discover the fragrant bank of wild thyme in old Mrs. Whiton’s garden, magic begins. The thyme garden opens the way to olden time, future time, and common time. Though Eliza says time doesn’t grow – it flies – the Nutterjack, the odd creature who presides over the garden, says anything can happen when you have all the time in the world. The four children are plunged into exhilarating, always unpredictable adventures – meeting the Revolutionary Minutemen, Queen Elizabeth I, and even their own parents when they were children.

Happy Reading! Feel free to discuss this book by leaving a comment below, or tweet about it using the hashtag #SummerofVintageKidLit! Or join my Facebook group to be alerted of all the latest posts.

I’m excited to begin week ten of my #SummerofVintageKidLit! If you haven’t yet heard about my summer reading challenge, you can take a look at my recent blog post that has all the details.

Last week we read Henry and the Paper Route, and you can read my quick recap in the comments of this post 🙂

This week, we’re reading Carol Ryrie Brink’s “Baby Island.” I have been discovering Carol Ryrie Brink’s delightful novels for the past few years, and I particularly enjoyed her wildly funny and sweet “Two Are Better than One” from 1968. So it is with great anticipation that I begin “Baby Island,” which both of my sisters have been recommending to me for years.

Here’s a summary about this book from Goodreads:

Twelve-year-old Mary Wallace and her ten-year-old sister Jean survive the wreck of an ocean liner on its way to Australia and manage to make it to a seemingly deserted island in a lifeboat with four babies.

Happy Reading! Feel free to discuss this book by leaving a comment below, or tweet about it using the hashtag #SummerofVintageKidLit! Or join my Facebook group to be alerted of all the latest posts.

Recently Read: Up and Down the River by Rebecca Caudill, Noel Streatfeild’s Holiday Stories, The Treasure Seekers by E. Nesbit
Currently Reading: The Borrowers Afield by Mary Norton, The Wouldbegoods by E. Nesbit, Just Patty by Jean Webster

I’m excited to begin week ten of my #SummerofVintageKidLit! If you haven’t yet heard about my summer reading challenge, you can take a look at my recent blog post that has all the details.

Last week we read The Borrowers, and you can read my quick recap in the comments of this post 🙂

This week, we’re reading Beverly Cleary’s “Henry and the Paper Route.” Like last week’s book, this is a new one for me, although I have read other books in the Henry Huggins series. I always enjoy Cleary’s novels, from her marvelous Ramona series to the sweet “Muggie Maggie” and her perceptive, funny YA books. (Ooh, now I want to go reread Fifteen…)

Here’s a summary about this book from Goodreads:

Ten-year-old Henry Huggins wants a paper route, but unfortunately all applicants have to be at least eleven. Undaunted, Henry sets out to show the boss he can do the job, no matter how many obstacles stand in the way. And, of course, difficulties immediately begin popping up everywhere. Everything he tries backfires, and then the neighborhood’s new genius moves in and takes over Henry’s dream route!

Happy Reading! Feel free to discuss this book by leaving a comment below, or tweet about it using the hashtag #SummerofVintageKidLit! Or join my Facebook group to be alerted of all the latest posts.