Follow After Me

Follow After Me by Allison Marlow Paterson (Big Sky Publishing) PB RRP $17.50 ISBN: 9781925675580

Reviewed by Nikki M Heath

What happens when a rural teenager’s efforts to run with the popular crowd clash with her discoveries of a tragic wartime family history? Lizzie is a year 12 student who has turned her back on her studies, her family and her long-time friendship group after attracting the attentions of the cool girl and the most desirable boy in town. While her life begins to disintegrate, she reluctantly begins researching her family’s World War I history for a school project.

Alternating with Lizzie’s contemporary tale comes the story of her family’s experiences during the Great War, told through a combination of letters and third-person narration. The reader is immersed in the experience of war, from the process of enlisting and fighting on the Western Front, to bearing the inevitable anxiety and grief on the home front. While the historical chapters broadly focus around the relationship between Tom, the youngest of five sons to go to war, and his intended, Evie, the whole family’s experience is represented.

There’s a lot going on in this novel, which is heavily based on the author’s previous non-fiction work Anzac Sons: Five Brothers on the Western Front and her own family research. The contemporary chapters layer family tension, financial pressure, drought, teenage angst and year 12 stress. The reader is also confronted with a bald (though not excessively graphic) depiction of sexual assault and its aftermath. Marlow Paterson builds a strong sense of place through keen observation of small details (an ancient, dented kitchen table and threadbare tea-towel, for example) and the use of key features of the landscape to create echoing imagery.

The most important of those images is the ancient tree near the family homestead, which serves to tie the “then” and “now” strands of the story together with its significance to all the main protagonists. It serves as a motif for the novel’s unifying themes of family and romance, and the ghosts of the past lingering around its trunk give Lizzie valuable perspective on her life.

There is real emotional depth to this book, particularly in the historical chapters, which reduced me to tears and gave me chills down my arms on several occasions. Nevertheless, those chapters have some structural weaknesses. Marlow Paterson has tried to incorporate the breadth of her family’s experience and include some real letters from her research. This has educational value but also muddies points of view, which switch frequently between scenes and sometimes mid-scene. Some chapters, for example, take the point of view of the mother of the family, which resonated with me as a mother myself, but is not ideally tailored to a young adult audience. The emotional climax also comes relatively early in the novel – around the halfway mark – which makes for a long, melancholy denouement.

Follow After Me is a moving contribution to the increasingly popular YA war story genre. It will appeal to a wide range of older teenagers (and adults) from 14 years and up, particularly those with an interest in real stories, history or rural life, although it also has a place as contemporary fiction. Despite the female main protagonist, there is a lot here for boys, both in conveying the wartime experience of their predecessors and providing insight into the modern experience of teenage girls in a #MeToo era.

Australia Remembers

Australia Remembers by Allison Paterson (Big Sky Publishing) RRP: Paperback $14.95 Hardback $24.99   ISBN: Paperback 9781925675771 ISBN: Hardback 9781925675788

Reviewed by Anne Helen Donnelly

Australia Remembers begins with an introduction to our country, how we live and how people in other countries may live. It continues to explain, in plain language perfectly pitched for the target age group of 6 to 12, the topics such as conflict, commemoration, ANZAC and document events such as the World Wars and current events that take place in remembrance. Apparently, there are three different types of bugle calls. I didn’t know this even though I had a friend in the army who used to play at every dawn service!

After the initial explanation, the book flows chronologically beginning with World War I and ending with The War on Terror, as well as Peacekeeping efforts. It explains to children why we remember and how, detailing various Australian War Memorials within Australia and abroad. Symbolism is included, such as the wearing of poppies and other national rituals, such as the minute silence on Remembrance Day and the baking of Anzac biscuits.

The layout is spot on, with the right mixture of images and information. The text is not excessive and is presented in different ways such as in thought bubbles, posed as questions and in sections with different coloured backgrounds. The images used keep the reader interested.

Photos, both current and historical, are included, as are maps and little drawings such as lightbulbs and question marks to attract attention to various text. A glossary is included for younger readers and the activities in the last chapter including making cardboard poppies and a recipe for Anzac biscuits, will keep little hands busy and make this book a more interactive experience.

This is exactly the type of non-fiction book I would have loved at age 6 to 12. Informative and interesting with relatable content. I highly recommend it.

My Friend Tertius

My Friend Tertius written by Corinne Fenton and illustrated by Owen Swan (Allen and Unwin)  HB RRP $24.99  ISBN 9781760113827

Reviewed by Daniela Andrews

It is Hong Kong, 1941, and Arthur and Tertius are best friends. Arthur spends his days decoding Japanese air force signals for British intelligence. Tertius spends his days springing about the office furniture like the ‘inquisitive trapeze artist’ that he is. Tertius is a gibbon.

When Arthur is ordered to leave Hong Kong, he can’t bear to leave Tertius behind. He sneaks him onto the ship to Singapore, where they ‘live the high life’ … until the Japanese fighter planes arrive. Arthur is ordered to evacuate immediately. He takes Tertius with him, barely making it onto the last ship out. His journey eventually leads him to Australia. He successfully smuggles Tertius into the country, until a police officer discovers him in their Melbourne hotel room. Tertius’ illegal status means his life is in question, but he is sent to the Melbourne Zoo after Arthur begs for an alternative fate. Before long, Arthur is summoned to London. He leaves, heartbroken, but comes back to visit Tertius in 1947 after the war is over. The story ends on a tender note, with Tertius not only remembering Arthur but also wrapping ‘his arms about [him] as if he’d never let go’.

This is a heartwarming, true story, told by award-winning writer, Corinne Fenton, and superbly illustrated by Owen Swan. Though Fenton acknowledges the wartime setting, she states that ‘it’s not a war story’ but ‘a love story between a man and his beloved pet’. The story is told from the first-person perspective of Arthur, and is quite informative. Younger readers might find the war themes quite confronting, with vivid language describing the bombings and their associated terror. (‘There were bombs whistling, exploding, shattering, but worst of all was the screaming. Tertius trembled in my arms.’) The suggested age group for this picture book, therefore, is 5–8 years.

Swan’s pencilled sketches appear in a soft, vintage palette throughout. He varies and limits the colours on each page to great effect, with frightening war scenes often depicted in only two or three tones. The washed-out appearance of the pictures perfectly complements the historical setting.

This talented duo have beautifully told Arthur Cooper’s story of companionship, loyalty, and the importance of holding on to love during times of war.

Reflection: Remembering Those Who Serve in War

Reflection: Remembering Those Who Serve in War, by Rebecka Sharpe Shelberg, illustrated by Robin Cowcher (Walker Books)

PB RRP $ 24.99

ISBN 9781922179050

Reviewed by Anastasia Gonis

This stunning picture book on Anzac Day is a tribute to those who serve, and served, in war. The cover is outstanding as are the illustrations by Robin Cowcher in pen and ink, with watercolours washes. The ochre shaded cover and light colour pages are extremely effective with the media used. It’s obvious that a great deal of consideration and care has gone into the presentation of this book and the messages it carries.

The text is moving and fully engages all the senses. It is a dual depiction; one showing the people’s participation in remembrance, and the other from the soldiers’ activities in various wars. This is an exceptional book in every way. The watercolour washes bring something unique to the story. The meaningful use of red is perfect.

I loved that all the wars are addressed on a double page spread at the end. This is extremely significant to the whole book.

There is an author’s note about how the ideas came about. It serves to remind us about the importance of our commemorative services and the price of freedom.

The illustrator’s note reveals how the dual experiences were linked and the challenges faced in translating this significant work.

This book will be the ideal project resource for young people looking to learn about our servicemen and women who took part in war. There will be discussions around the content which will create a deeper interest that will initiate further research. It’s a beautiful book worth having and giving, for all ages.

The Book of Pearl

The Book of Pearl by Timothee De Fombelle (Walker Books)

PB RRP $19.99

ISBN 9781406364620

Reviewed by Anastasia Gonis

This is a tale about power, cruelty, murder, and war. Above all, it’s about eternal love. Presented in three intricately created parts, it is written in back and forth chapters that tie together, to create the why, where and how of a magical, yet heartbreaking, story of love.

Ian, the king in waiting, discovers he has a brother Ilian, instead of a sister he had believed for years to have. When he falls in love with Olia the fairy, and discovers she loves his brother, Ian orders Ilian’s death.

Instead of killing him, Taag, the genie, exiles Ilian forever from the kingdoms to the world we know as ours, far from his love. 

Olia too, is banished. Stripped of her fairy powers she cannot be with her love who has undergone a metamorphosis, and is now Joshua Pearl.

The story covers a lifetime. We see Joshua Ilian Pearl during WW2, and how his life is reshaped by fighting, friendships and discoveries. The pivotal part of the story hinges on the fragments of Joshua’s past that have been collected; his ‘tokens of proof’ that he dedicates his life to tracking down at all cost, in order to build the story about the life and love he had with Olia.

The alternating chapters have been set up beautifully so they flow continuously together. The emotive prose, descriptive settings and fairytale imagery are all part of a breathtaking creation by the highly acclaimed, award-winning author of French children’s books, Timothee de Fombelle. Translated by Sarah Ardizzone and Sam Gordon, it can be classed as a cross-over novel, but however it is classed, it remains another magnificent piece of work.

Vietnam: My Australian Story

Vietnam: My Australian Story by Deborah Challinor (Scholastic Press)

PB RRP $16.99

ISBN 978-1-76015-042-6

Reviewed by Jenny Heslop

It is the late 1960’s and young Davey Walker can see change happening everywhere. He is starting high school, his brother Tom has been drafted to fight in Vietnam and his mother is acting a little strange. But the surf is still great, and so with his new surfboard, his two best mates, and plenty of new pop songs to sing on the way, Davey spends as much time as possible biking to and from the surf beach.

Vietnam is the fictional diary kept by thirteen year old Davey between September 1968 and January 1970. It is not a story about the Vietnam War, although letters home from Tom with brief descriptions of the war are included in the pages, but rather a picture of Australian culture during this time. And this was a time of social change, anti-war protests, surf-culture, space exploration and music.

I particularly loved the record Davey kept of the songs which were at the top of, or climbing the charts. Davey’s comments about whether it was a song his father liked/hated, his sister loved or his mates were into, really helped form the characters in the story. As music was a very important part of this era, these inclusions gave the story a strong 60’s atmosphere as well as clearly showing the changing face of popular culture.

Diary form is an intimate way to tell someone’s story, but you do have to connect with the diarist for it to work well. It wasn’t hard to connect with Davey. He is involved with family, a loyal friend and a bit of a ‘lad’ - but he is also a complex character, very compassionate and a thinker, trying to make sense of what life has thrown up. After his brother Tom comes home from Vietnam – minus a leg courtesy of a land mine – Davey has to tell his mother Tom is not coming back to live at home.

She said, ‘He’s not our Tom any more, is he?’

I didn’t really know how to answer that. My Tom was probably always different from her Tom. So I said, ‘I think he still loves us.’

The writing is very good. The people, their motivations and their relationships, feel solid and realistic. There is a good balance between social issues, Davey’s inner life and action in the pages of his diary. There is also a good balance between the ups and the downs. While some parts of life turn out great for Davey, other parts are very sad. It did touch a chord with me and there were tears.

My Australian Story is a really solid series and a great way for teenagers and preteens to learn about different periods in Australian history.

The Anzac Puppy

The Anzac Puppy by Peter Millett, Illustrated by Trish Bowles (Scholastic NZ)

PB RRP $15.99

ISBN 978-1-77543-097-1

Reviewed by Jenny Heslop

'In the middle of the night, in the middle of the winter, in the middle of a war, a puppy was born.'

Lucy names the puppy Freda but sadly the family cannot afford to keep her so a passing young soldier, Sam, adopts her and takes her with him to war. Sam and Freda become fast friends, comforting each other through harsh times on the battle front, with Freda becoming a mascot for all the young men fighting in the trenches.

The Anzac Puppy is a beautifully written book. It is a story about the realities of war, the hardships, the friendships and love. It has wonderful sentence construction with much internal repetition such as 'The long, cold nights at the front soon turned into long, terrifying months'. This is a lovely story to read.

The illustrations are soft and sensitive, depicting the emotions of people along with the bleakness and isolation of war and the warmth of reunion.

Inspired by the true story of Freda, a Great Dane who was mascot to the NZ Rifle Brigade during World War I, the author has done meticulous research. The facts of this ‘real’ Freda are given in an equally readable illustrated double page spread at the back of the book.

Ending on a positive note, the echoing of the story’s beginning creates a satisfying conclusion which will appeal to early primary aged children, especially dog lovers.

Blog Tour and Giveaway: This is Not a Drill

Today, Buzz Words is thrilled to welcome Beck McDowell to talk about her debut YA novel This is not a Drill (see the Buzz Words review here). Answer the question at the end of the interview for your chance to win a copy.

Lillian Rodrigues-Pang asks Beck a few questions on the inspiration behind TINAD.

What inspired you to write this story? Was it originally a romance or sparked by the war veteran story?

The soldier story – and its impact on the small children - definitely came first.  I think a seed was planted years ago for THIS IS NOT A DRILL when my second grade nephew told me they’d been told, if they were in the bathroom and heard a “lockdown” announcement on the intercom, to lock the stall, sit on the toilet, and pull their feet up so an intruder wouldn’t see them. It broke my heart to think of him in there alone and terrified. I realized that innocence was a thing of the past when events in our world necessitated lessons like that. I’d also had a number of conversations with former students-turned-soldiers about their experiences during war, and since they were “my babies” at one time, I was struck by how they’d lost their innocence, too, because of the things they’d witnessed in battle.

You offer the story from two characters' perspectives, alternating between Jake and Emery for most of the book. What were the factors that lead you to this decision? 

I really like alternating viewpoints and I think teens do, too. Maybe it’s because the internet allows us to see different sides of every story, which is good. In THIS IS NOT A DRILL, I knew there had been a messy break-up, so I wanted to tell both sides of that story. Also I liked the idea of having a female character who would try to draw the soldier’s story out and empathize with him, plus a male character who just wants to beat the crap out of the guy. I don’t like gender stereotypes, but I think these two reactions are fairly true-to-life, and both are legitimate responses to the crisis. The hardest part of writing this way is to keep both stories straight and to make sure the two voices are distinct enough to help the reader separate them, too.

Okay, delving into the story itself. The first page is an offering of incongruent images – first graders, a gun, hospital beds, morning, night, “turned the warm yeasty air ice-cold”. I enjoyed this set up. It lays out the beginning and the end of the story – we meet guy with gun, Emery, the start of the day with French nouns and finish of the day with three people dead. Why did you choose to give us the ending upfront?

Thanks! I liked the idea of letting the reader know up front where we were headed and then unwinding the story of how we got there. And from my years of teaching, I knew there had to be a compelling reason for teens to turn the pages. It seemed to me that knowing from the first page that there are three deaths would make the reader feel more protective of the first graders and the teens – almost like helping pull them through.

The other thing I really enjoyed about the beginning is the introduction to the classroom. The kids are all unique characters within the group. You have the louder-than-everyone-child, the one who doesn’t stay focused, the repeater, the cheeky one, the class roamer, the mothering/protective girl, etc. It is a very realistic picture of first grade. Did you spend time in a classroom for this insight?

I can’t say that I’ve stepped foot inside a first grade classroom since my own grown children were there. In writing the story, I found that I could trace back the same personalities I saw in my middle and high school classes and imagine what those students were like in first grade. We don’t really change that much when you get right down to it. I’m also fortunate to have a cousin, Jeanne Wilson, who teaches first grade in Mississippi, so she shared stories with me. It’s funny, but I think you can take almost any picture of a first grade class and “spot” the kids from THIS IS NOT A DRILL. Those personality types are universal.

On the point of research, your main character Emery has an illness that I personally have never heard of before; POTS. The statistics you offered and the process of doctors being unaware and the fear that Emery faced when dealing with her illness were an insightful inclusion. Where did you come across POTS?

I had a family member who dealt with POTS as a teen and then several of my students were diagnosed. I learned that it’s very common in young people, but that many doctors don’t know about it. It’s easy to diagnose if you test someone’s heart rate sitting, then standing – and very treatable.  But when undiagnosed, it can lead to people thinking you’re lazy or that it’s “all in your head.” In crafting a character who suffers from it, I hoped to raise awareness.

Keeping the focus on the main characters: when Brian Stutts interrupts the class he is very stereotypical:“big guy, late twentyish, dark hair buzzed close, square jaw. Black t-shirt stretched tight across puffed-out chest. Muscular legs in camouflage pants. Army boots planted wide. His eyes scan the kid’s faces like he’s searching for a tasty meal. His focus stops on one.” (p. 4) 

For some time we see him as the bad guy, but when Emery decides to talk to him we learn a lot more about him as a man, father, war veteran and husband. I found myself becoming much more sympathetic to his situation. We learn of his fears – he is trained to kill and sanctioned by the government to kill. The IED – Improvised Explosive Device and the permeating fear they lived with as well as the specific mention of PTSD – Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Why did this topic appeal to you?

As I mentioned, I’d talked with students who’d served in Iraq. The loss of innocence in war is a fairly common theme in literature, but I felt the timing was right for this particular story. We have an entire generation of young men and women returning home from Iraq and it’s important that we, as a society, help them deal with the psychological trauma they’ve suffered as well as the physical. I like the fact that there’s a movement now to drop the “Disorder” part of PTSD and just call it “Post Traumatic Stress.” If we’re honest about it, many of the symptoms (nightmares, etc.) seem like a pretty normal human response to seeing people die – instead of a “disorder.”

I have to admit I enjoyed the paradoxes in Emery. She was a shy girl, overprotected and with an illness who had real strength in decision-making. Most of the solutions came from her. It felt refreshing to read of a vulnerable but strong female character. Was this your intention?

I’m glad you liked her. I do, too. While Jake actually verbalizes that he’s always wondered how he’d respond to a life-threatening situation, Emery deals with that question internally. Even though she’s not, by nature, outgoing and pro-active like Jake, she rises above her natural shyness when she sees this horror unfolding. Her reaction is from the gut and out of character, but it’s how we all hope we’d respond when others need our help. She’s smart and she’s kind, so she uses her best assets to overcome her physical limitations and her fear. I like to think we all have inner resources we don’t even know about that will give us surprising strength in an emergency.

You have included a lot of pop culture references – kung fu panda, Reese Witherspoon, Edward and Bella (Twilight) etc. No fear of these references dating your story?

I know some writers and editors think this way, but middle and high school students are very tied to popular culture. It’s a huge part of their daily lives, their conversations, their jokes. I don’t see stripping down a story of those details to give it longevity. Many of those references will be around for a long time and the story’s not really affected by how well the reader knows them. It’s a judgment call, so I’m glad my editor agrees with me.

I noticed Jake was the bringer of all things naughty – like the drugs charge, the alcohol abuse and violent father of his friend, he calls Stutts “the asshole” Was it a difficult choice to put these words/situations into your novel or do you see it as necessary to truly relate to the YA reader?

In my experience, these are all pretty pervasive aspects of high school life. You mentioned the contrasts in the book in an earlier question, and it’s fair to say that Jake’s big personality and bad choices highlight Emery’s quiet studiousness. Part of Jake’s rebellion, of course, is that he hasn’t dealt with his anger over losing his mother to cancer. And you get the sense that he’s also trying to get his dad’s attention since he talks about the things they used to do together.

You have very carefully planted humour into the story – the kids and their caricatures, the Justin Bieber t-shirt, the maniac mother references. Was this difficult to achieve? Did you have to map it out?

I knew this story was going to need some comic relief. That wasn’t hard to achieve in a first grade , in spite of the terrible events unfolding, because little kids are funny. Some might call it irreverent to include laughter in a story that involves a crisis like this, but to me, life is never all funny or all sad.  In times of grief and trouble, our sense of humour is sometimes all that saves us. Those parts of the story just flowed naturally for me. When I envisioned what was going on in that room, I knew the kids wouldn’t truly understand the magnitude of the danger and that they would just go right on being themselves – no matter what was happening around them.

*****

For your chance to WIN a copy of This Is Not a Drill. In 25 words or less, email Vicki your stand-out school memory. Competition closes midnight 7 November and is open to residents of Australia and New Zealand. Winner's name will be published on this blog.

Beck McDowell's blog tour will continue tomorrow at YA LOVE BLOG http://yaloveblog.com/. If you missed Beck's blog tour post from yesterday, read it at YA BLISS  http://www.yabliss.com/.

Ships in the Field

Ships in the Field by Susanne Gervay, illustrated by Anna Pignataro

(Ford Street Publishing)

HB RRP $26.95

ISBN 978-1921665233

Reviewed by Francine Sculli

Joining the mastery of award-winning author, Susanne Gervay and award-winning illustrator, Anna Pignataro – Ships in the Field is a picture book filled with significance, beauty and rich subtext.

Narrated through the simple, but intuitive eyes of a little girl, this picture book tells the story of life for a refugee family who have fled from their war torn country and started a new life in a foreign land. The little girl shares heart warming family moments with the reader. Images of her father splashing her with water from the laundry tub, making hats for the whole family from paper napkins, promising her a puppy that she so longs for, or sitting on top of trees that give a view of the whole world; all of these provide a safe and comfortable foundation for her to share other images of her family’s life that are far deeper and more complex. We see her mother crying in the hallway as she sleeps, we hear of how the night scares her, we hear of the loss of their previous life, and the complexity of mistaking ‘ship’ for ‘sheep’. These images are delicately interwoven in a way that brings hope and understanding.

The intricate images from Anna Pignataro are wonderfully complimentary and equally telling. She captures the warmth, solidary and strength of the family through her soft, watercolour images; however, the double page image spreads also provide the subtext for what is left partially unsaid in the narrative – the gloom, loss, fear and devastation of war. Colour is a significant part of the illustrations and the sense of hope overcoming loss and devastation is depicted through the changing colours, as the darker and more neutral tones are slowly replaced with brighter and more vibrant colours towards the books close.

Through its imagery, clever word play and warmth, Ships in the Field has created a thoughtful and touching insight into the world of a child whose life has been shredded by war. While it is a great insight, it is not overly confronting and easily accessible for younger readers. It is a significant picture book that will assist children (aged 7+) to develop empathy and understanding. 

Grumpy Little King

Grumpy Little King by Michel Streich (Allen & Unwin)

HB RRP $24.99

ISBN 978-1-74237-572-4

Reviewed by Thalia Kalkipsakis

  

War is a topic that does not sit naturally in a children’s picture book, but Michel Streich’s Grumpy Little King handles its complexities in a way that is both accessible and touching. The ending may even make you smile.

When asked why he is grumpy all the time the little king explodes: ‘I am fed up with being the little king of a tiny nation! I want to be a big king, important, powerful and rich! I want to be famous and rule over an enormous country!’

His advisors recommend war.

And so follows the search for an enemy and the purchasing of ships, planes and guns. Parades are held, and the little king gives speeches. The men in the kingdom, who used to be bakers, teachers, farmers and builders, are given uniforms and rifles. ‘Everyone was a soldier now.’

The story is told in simple language, with honesty and humour, but its illustrations speak most powerfully. The grumpy king is at once terrifying and tragic, dwarfed by his advisors and almost disappearing at the end of his dining table. Every line in his face seems to simmer with fury.

The king’s advisors are bland, hidden behind empty spectacles. The general is almost faceless beneath his army cap, other than a smug smile. Most telling of all are the expressions on the soldiers’ faces as they march into war: their heads are tilted down, their eyes turned to one side. It’s a page that commands a pause.

Misdirected authority and its awful impact are at the forefront of themes in this story, but it also lends itself to more. For younger children, Grumpy Little King could be an entry to discussion about fighting and bullying. For older children it could be about the dynamics and consequences of war itself, as well as conflict resolution. Even adults will find themselves cheering at the outcome, and then rethinking the victims. Where, for example, are the king’s advisors during the final pages of the book?

The conclusion is indeed satisfying but, true to war, not all guilty players get what they deserve.

  

Thalia’s latest book is called Head Spinners: six stories to twist your brain (www.thaliakalkipsakis.com). 

A Long Walk to Water

A Long Walk to Water by Linda Sue Park (UQP)

PB RRP $16.95

ISBN: 9780702238703

Reviewed by Jo Burnell

How do you let children experience the devastation of war without overwhelming them? Is it possible to be immersed in the realities of desert life when you’ve never had to go thirsty? Linda Sue Park masterfully combines facts with a spellbinding yarn to achieve both these goals. Although her two main characters are fictional, their stories are a blend of many real life experiences.

Salva and Nya live in the same land, 23 years apart. Their stories are carefully juxtaposed, with moments of high drama triggering the switch between stories. It takes a unique skill to draw the reader on at such critical points, rather than put them off reading altogether. Linda Sue Park is such a master.

Salva is told to run as war visits his homeland in 1985. Being a boy forces his flight. It’s the only way he can avoid being enlisted as a child soldier. However, Salva doesn’t know what has happened to his family and he can’t return to find out. His journey takes him from Southern Sudan across desert, over a great river to Ethiopia and, years later, back through the same lands and into Kenya. Starvation and exhaustion hem him in on one side, while strangers with guns threaten on the other.

Because she is a girl, Nya’s fate in 2008 is to fetch water every day. Her daily journey across thorns and rocky paths takes hours each way. There is no chance for learning other skills. The family needs her water to survive.

Page by page, Salva’s and Nya’s worlds draw closer until they finally meet in real time. Salva returns to his homeland with an amazing gift, thus freeing Nya to dream of a different world.

A Long Walk to Water is one of the most captivating books I have ever read. The dramatic story structure melds difficult facts and horrific details into a palatable, easy read for children. A Long Walk to Water is sure to find a permanent place in school and home libraries alike. If there is only one book you read this year, let it be A Long Walk to Water.

  

Jo Burnell is passionate about hooking reluctant and struggling readers into the world of books. Her current project looks at Juveniles in Jail today which aims to open doors to the Juvenile Justice System through a combination of Facts, Fictional Play Scripts and Faction.