The Crossover

My pervading thought while reading the short basketball novel The Crossover was that even my sixth graders who were sworn non-readers would enjoy this book.

It reminded me of a "reading night" my middle school organized last year at a community center in one of the neighborhoods where our students lived. The only students that came were the six to eight kids we were able to drag in from the basketball court (wrong place, wrong time). The teachers who volunteered to come had brought our favorite books and we read those books to our small groups of kids for about 20 minutes. 

My well-meaning but slightly out-of-touch principal then gave a stirring speech about the usefulness of reading. During this middle-aged middle-class woman's haphazard attempt to connect to these poor, basketball-loving 13-year-old boys, she said, "Take basketball, for instance. Y'all love playing basketball, but let's say you want to get better at your free throw. You can go look it up in a book or online and READ about how to improve your free throw. Reading is just so useful!" 

I'm sure the kids left that gym and ran straight to the library for some "how to improve your free throw" books. I can't help but think that reading a passage from Kwame Alexander's Newbery-winning verse novel would have caught their attention. Written from the perspective of its middle school basketball star protagonist, The Crossover's appeal to a middle school athlete seems almost certain. The fact that it's written in verse might throw some kids off, but I think it just made it an easier and more interesting read.

Apart from inspiring me to grow dreads, this book did not personally move me. I felt only a slight connection to Josh Bell and even less so to his twin brother, JB and basketball has always been my least favorite sport to play and watch. It was well-done, however, and I'm sure it will inspire some kids who don't usually pick up books for pleasure to enjoy some fast-paced fiction.

El Deafo

Adorable! And officially the first graphic novel I've ever read. It's certainly the first (Correct me if I'm wrong; I still have 20ish to go) graphic novel Newbery, which is cool. It created a bit of confusion when the call number read J GRAPHIC BELL (A new section in the library? A warning about content?!) and I didn't know where to find it. And even when I found the correct section (Oh, right! Graphic novels! That's a thing.), El Deafo was a tricky one to locate. I sent the children's librarian on a wild good chase all over the library before she finally returned in dismay and discovered it on display exactly where it should be in the graphic novels section (I'm sorry, is this your first time in a library?).

So my understanding of a graphic novel prior to last week was a long comic book that included words like "Bam" and "Pow" in large speech bubbles, black and white drawings of full-figured women in tight clothing, and a very specific font.



El Deafo properly challenged my graphic novel ignorance. Cece Bell tells and illustrates the autobiographical tale of her meningitic hearing loss at age four and the ensuing social discomforts of being nearly deaf and wearing a large hearing aid around her neck through elementary school. Cece is an adorable heroine (not full figured and, while she does love wearing her bathing suit, she generally avoids tight clothing to hide her giant hearing aid) with funny insights, genuine feelings and relationships, and a creative imagination. And there wasn't a single "Bam" or "Pow" in the whole book.

"Our differences are our superpowers."  -Cece Bell

Cedric the Forester

Is it just me or did it feel like Cedric ended several different times? Every couple of chapters brought a completely new dramatic arc: new intro, new rising action, new conflict, new resolution. The main characters remained the same, but little else did. Another really serious bloody conflict just a year or two after the last one was all figured out?! But maybe that's the Middle Ages for ya.  Perhaps I would not have been so confused had the title read: Cedric the Crossbowman: A Collection of Tales.

And I realize that Cedric is set in England during the Middle Ages, but it's still rather unsettling that every conflict in the book is resolved by killing someone (or several someones). I mean, Cedric is a pretty cool character. His underdog-championing is admirable and his pro-civil liberties cause is worth supporting. I just wish that he and Dickon (the narrator) didn't solve all of their problems with a crossbow.