Toby Alone

I'm currently reading Toby Alone by Timothee de Fombelle (translated by Sarah Ardizzone; illustrated by Francois Place; Candlewick, 2009).  There's Toby on the cover of the book, larger than life:  he's really only one-and-half millimeters tall, and his whole world is a great oak Tree, just like the ones in my backyard.  I'm reading the library's copy, so I can't see the map of the Tree on the other side of the cover, but spot illustrations in pen-and-ink appear frequently throughout.  Maybe it's better that I can't see the whole Tree, actually;  neither can the tiny people who live in it, and that's part of their problem.

Part of my problem is that I've lost my mind--or rather, the key to it.  The metaphor is scientist Sim Lolness's:

"Every brain has its key," [Toby's] father always used to say. "Mine is my bed.  Yours is your plate.  Eat before you think, or you'll think badly."  (48)

My key is solitude.  Companionable quiet will also work.  Both have been in short supply lately; in the last week or so alone I've attended everything from my 20-year high school reunion to KidlitCon (guess which was better?!).  Right now I'm making room for more quiet in which to read and write and think.

In the meantime, I would love to know what your keys (or your children's) might be.  Sleep, food, quiet, or something else entirely--what do you need to think your best?

Cybils alert!

Nominations for this year's Cybils close at midnight tomorrow, October 15. If, like me, you've been holding your nominations in reserve, now is the time to check out what's been nominated (or overlooked) so far and make your choices. I'll post mine here as soon as I've made them.

Exciting news: This year I'm a first round panelist in Middle Grade Science Fiction and Fantasy, which means I'll be reading a lot of SFF between now and December 31. Where should I begin? Leave me a comment with the title and author of your favorite book in this category, and I'll move it to the top of my to-read pile. Provided it's been nominated for a Cybil this year, of course. And if it hasn't, what are you waiting for?

Laura Amy Schlitz's next book, The Night Fairy

I adore Laura Amy Schlitz.  Each of her four published books--a biography, a retelling, a melodrama, and a Newbery-winning collection of medieval monologues--is exceptional.  They also may as well have been written expressly to appeal to my particular set of tastes.  I've been wondering about her next book, and was delighted to discover that The Night Fairy, illustrated by Angela Barrett, will be published by Candlewick in February 2010.  Fairies!  Schlitz obviously knows what I like.

The cover image and text below are from Walker Books Australia, Candlewick's sister company:

"What would happen to a fairy if she lost her wings and could no longer fly? Flory, a young night fairy no taller than an acorn and still becoming accustomed to her wings - wings as beautiful as those of a luna moth - is about to find out. What she discovers is that the world is very big and very, very dangerous. But Flory is fierce and willing to do whatever it takes to survive. If that means telling others what to do like Skuggle, a squirrel ruled by his stomach so be it. Not every creature, however, is as willing to bend to Flory’s demands. Newbery Medal winner Laura Amy Schlitz and world-renowned illustrator and miniaturist Angela Barrett venture into the realm of the illustrated classic a classic entirely and exquisitely of their making, and a magnificent adventure."

Hmmm.  Do you believe in fairies?

Catwings and a Kindle of Kittens

The Catwings books by Ursula K. Le Guin seem so appealing.  Kittens with wings!  There they are in S.D. Schindler's pen-and-ink drawings, perched on a branch of tree or curled up beside their mother ("How is the milk this morning, children?" she asks them, which I loved).  "A small gem of a book," says PW.  "A lovely, gentle fantasy," Horn Book.  "Contemporary and timeless," New York Times Book Review.

Be that as it may, bookstogether is here to tell you that if you have a sensitive child, perhaps one who just started kindergarten this very day, you may not make it past the place where Mrs. Tabby says to her kittens, "I think you are ready.  I want you to have a good dinner and fly away--far away."  Because they're not ready.  And neither are you.

[See also Rumer Godden's A Kindle of Kittens (illustrated by Lynne Byrnes; Viking, 1978), which is a sort of cautionary tale for single cat mothers.  We didn't read that one, either.  But it may interest you to know that the verb to kindle can mean to give birth, and a kindle is the collective noun for--kittens!  Probably not what Amazon had in mind.]