Recommendation: No Such Thing as the Real World

No Such Thing as the Real World:  Stories about Growing Up and Getting a Life
(Click here to find a library copy.)

Recommendation by Kaitlyn
Should we keep it?  YES
Why?  The stories are very interesting.  They are both relevant and deep.  Also, the topics are easily relatable.

This book was part of the Last Call book display in the teen section during November and December. Thanks to everyone who participated!

Book Review: Attack of the Vampire Weenies

Attack of the Vampire Weenies, and Other Warped and Creepy Tales by David Lubar

Review by Saranjeet
(This book will be released on May 24, 2011)

This new book by David Lubar is a truly humorous book.  The collection of stories all related to the title of the book in one way or another.  Each story seemed to be well thought-out.  There was definitely a plot twist in each one so the resolutions ended up somewhere unexpected.  The humor made it even the more interesting.  This book is definitely a winner on my list.  It is hilarious, surreal, creative, suspenseful, and very well-crafted.

NOTE:  Author David Lubar actually visited Sellers Library in 2008.  Check out the pictures here and here.

Pass the Buck: Character Is at Home in the Living Room

At the first Writer's Ink meeting, we played a writing game called "Pass the Buck." This game is a classic and produces some very interesting short stories. Every person is given a paper with a story starter, and they have five minutes to write the beginning. Every five minutes, the papers are rotated until each story has parts written by all of the participants. The end result is a mishmash of everyone's writing styles! Anyway, here is one of the stories:

Emmett was sitting on the couch, eating a load of junk food. He had soda, chips, fries, and cheeseburgers. There was a mess of trash on the floor and his mom was going to be home soon. Thankfully, he could clean it up really fast, easy as pie. “Mmmm, pie,” he thought. He ran and got the trash bags and vacuum cleaner. He piled everything into the bags and vacuumed up the floor. “Oh, crap!” he said, because he had forgotten to take the bags outside. His mom would be home any second. He looked around to find a place to hide them.

Just then, the lock on the door clicked and it opened. But instead of his mother, there stood and angry man with a large bag. He glared at Emmett and said, “You, sir, are much too wasteful.” The man became increasingly enraged at Emmett’s quizzical gaze and practically screamed, “My name is Mr. Eisenhower Jones, of the Bureau of Green Development, and YOU ARE MUCH TOO WASTEFUL!”

Emmett glanced around. What was this man doing? Emmett knew he threw trash away, but was he really that wasteful? Any why was this man barging into his house? “What are you doing here? Leave right this minute or I will tell the FBI that you are going through our trash! My dad just happens to be the chief.” It was true that his dad worked for the FBI, but he wasn’t the chief…he was the chef. He spent most of his time at FBI headquarters flipping burgers.

“Look, kid, you can’t fool me. I’m FBI, and I know your dad from the lunchroom. Kid, you need to go green; it’ll be better for you.”

“What I need is for you to leave, you psychotic weirdo. You can’t just come into people’s houses like that, even if you are the FBI. And since when does the government care about being green? That BP oil spill doesn’t help your reputation much.”

Mr. Jones didn’t really know what to say. “Perhaps you are right, kid, but we are trying to fix our mistakes. Don’t you think it’s time to fix yours?”

Emmett thought about his wastefulness, the food he threw away, the sodas he didn’t finish. Wow, he thought, I’m a mess. I’m hurting this planet. But it’s not like I could destroy the whole Earth by myself, right? What does one kid’s wastefulness really matter? There are plenty of more important things to worry about—the oil spill, war, the genocide in Darfur. What does it matter if I’m a little wasteful? I suppose I could try to be more environmentally friendly.

“Even if I am a mess, I expect you to leave this instant! I don’t believe you are even from the FBI. I have seen you before. You are from that reality TV show Save My Earth!” Emmett exclaimed.

“Well, you figured me out, kid. But I want to show you something before I leave.” Suddenly, a computer appeared and there was chart on the screen. Mr. Jones pointed at the data. “This is how wasteful you are, and this over here is how the world would be affected if everyone was as wasteful as you.”

Emmett was flabbergasted. He didn’t realize he wasted that much. Mr. Jones showed him a picture of Earth from space, and it was all grey from trash. From then on, Emmett decided to save the planet by only eating junk food that came in recyclable wrapping.

Pass the Buck: Character Has Been Abducted by an Angry Mob of Alien Soccer Fans

At the first Writer's Ink meeting, we played a writing game called "Pass the Buck." This game is a classic and produces some very interesting short stories. Every person is given a paper with a story starter, and they have five minutes to write the beginning. Every five minutes, the papers are rotated until each story has parts written by all of the participants. The end result is a mishmash of everyone's writing styles! Anyway, here is one of the stories:

Thinking back to yesterday, I wonder how all of this could have happened. Just a few days ago, life seemed almost normal, sitting on my couch watching the World Cup. Now I have a story no one will believe.

It all started yesterday when I was walking home from soccer practice and saw a flying saucer. How could this be? I looked around, wondering if I was the only one who noticed it. Everyone was walking around as if nothing was happening. I checked the sky again, and sure enough, the UFO was there.

Just then, I saw an alien walking toward me. Should I run? Should I talk to it? My mind was going a mile a minute, but my legs were frozen to the ground as if they were buried in Arctic ice. But then I sprang into action, running as if my life depended on it…because it probably did. I heard the aliens call for a search team, and I tried to hide myself behind some trees and form a plan. Outrunning them wasn’t really an option, neither was surrendering.

I had no choice but to try to get some help, so I ran toward other people on the sidewalk yelling, “Help! Aliens are trying to capture me!!” People thought I was completely mental, and one passerby called the cops. They arrested me and placed me in jail, which they said was for my own good. Ha! Yeah, right. I figured the aliens would be there any minute to take me away since I was trapped. Well, there was nothing left to do but wait for them and try to outsmart them when they got there.

I never got the chance. They teleported me out of the cell to their planet! All I could see was aliens of all colors, all wearing a type of human-looking soccer outfit. One alien walked up to me and said, “You, who are such a soccer fan, must challenge us to a match.”

“But, how do I play soccer against millions all by myself?” The aliens all began to laugh maliciously, their voices sounding very robotic. “Why are you laughing?” I asked.

The aliens smiled. “You are to play soccer against only one of us.”

I shrugged. “Well, OK, I guess that’s not so bad.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure, earthling,” answered the alien. He gestured to my opponent.

I looked over and gulped. There stood before me a rather large, sis-legged alien. He had his humongous arms crossed over his chest and he glared menacingly down at me. Great, I thought, how am I going to get out of this one? Before I knew it, they blew the whistle to start the game. “Whoever gets a goal first wins,” said the first alien, an evil grin plastered on his face.

“What happens if I win?” I asked, feeling rather bold and reckless.

“If you win,” said the alien, “we will let you go free. But you won’t win.”

The ball was dropped between us, and the game began. The six-legged alien moved gracefully and with strength. All I could do was weave through its enormous legs and try to steal the ball. I was actually getting closer to the alien’s goal. I was tiring, but so was he, and I thought I might actually win.

Then, the unthinkable. “Aaaaargh! Nooooooo!” The alien scored using his telepathy.

I started to shake. “What happens now? Are you going to eat my brain? Chop me up and sell my body to different intergalactic nations as a delicacy?”

“What? No, you freak! We’re going to send you home as a trophy of our good sportsmanship. We just needed some fresh entertainment.”

“Oh,” I sighed. Instantly I was teleported back as if nothing had happened.

So that was my yesterday. What’s up for tomorrow?

Pass the Buck: Character Has Fallen Asleep

At the first Writer's Ink meeting, we played a writing game called "Pass the Buck." This game is a classic and produces some very interesting short stories. Every person is given a paper with a story starter, and they have five minutes to write the beginning. Every five minutes, the papers are rotated until each story has parts written by all of the participants. The end result is a mishmash of everyone's writing styles! Anyway, here is one of the stories:

Jade has fallen asleep, and lays deep inside her dreams, not even realizing her surroundings. Jade sees her mom running after her and reaches for her, only to find her gone. Disappointment seeps into her eyes and she starts to cry.

Jade hears a faint sound in the distance, a voice calling…calling what? Her name. The voice calls her name. But who is it? Who is calling her? The voice sounds familiar, warm and kind. The soothing lull of it fills her with calm and happiness, and feels like home. Jade’s tears dry as she loses herself in the voice. She becomes filled with determination. That voice must be her mother. But she must know for sure, she must find her mother.

She begins to follow the sound of the voice, until she reaches a door. The door is very ornate, with intricate patterns lined in gold. Jade touches the door, hoping her mother is behind it. But instead, she finds a very little man jumping up and down.

“Who are you? Why are you so tall?” he asks in a squeaky voice that sounds like a dying crow.

“I am not that tall. Why are you so…little” Jade asks, confused. She has never seen someone that short in her life. Then she sees other people behind him, all the same minute height. They all gaze up at her in wonder, whispering to each other in astonishment.

“She’s real big, Mommy!” exclaims a nearby child, infinitesimal next to the already tiny adults. The child’s mother grabs her hand, hushing her, staring up in total terror and amazement at Jade. Jade feels like she is going to cry again. She is always self-conscious, and being the odd ball in this situation wasn’t helping.

“I-I’m looking for a voice,” she tells them. Her speech sounds distant and muffled.

“How can you look for a voice when you cannot see a voice?” It is the little man who first harassed her about her height. She realizes that not one of them has opened their mouths once to speak.

This is trippy, Jade thinks to herself. She looks down at the man and speaks softly. She thinks maybe if her voice seems kinder, then someone will want to help her. “Well, I know that you can’t see a voice, but I heard it. It was warm, kind, and had this soft lull to it that would make me sway from side to side. It was a lady’s voice. It was my mother.”

The petite man roars with laughter that cracks Jade’s eardrums. “That’s not nice sounding. It sounds like a monster.”

“My mother is not a monster! How dare you say that! My mother is kind and loving, unlike you!” Jade can’t keep the tears back. She cries and runs away from all of them. The little people stand and stare as she runs off. Jade begins to think she might be going mad. Could she be in Wonderland?

Suddenly, Jade is startled by the sound of a knock on the door. She looks up through half-open eyes to see her mother! Still crying, Jade gives her confused mother a very big hug.

Pass the Buck: Character Is Sucked into a Book

At the first Writer's Ink meeting, we played a writing game called "Pass the Buck." This game is a classic and produces some very interesting short stories. Every person is given a paper with a story starter, and they have five minutes to write the beginning. Every five minutes, the papers are rotated until each story has parts written by all of the participants. The end result is a mishmash of everyone's writing styles! Anyway, here is one of the stories:

Jacques was walking around in his attic, when he came across and unusual book. It was lying open, and it showed a town of clocks. He bent down and attempted to pick up the book, but suddenly he was inside of it! He was confused and intrigued by how that was even possible.

He then decided it would be best to take a look around. There were many broken clocks and some others that were working. The ticking was all at different times. Some of the clocks were tiny and loud while others were huge with long, swinging pendulums. Jacques looked up and found that the room he was in stretched higher than a skyscraper.

He began to feel rather frightened that one of the clocks near the ceiling would fall on him, bonking him violently on the head. Also, the ticking noise was driving him positively batty. He was scared to even move, lest he cause any of the clocks to fall.

Just then the door opened, causing Jacques to nearly jump out of his skin. An old man entered, bent over with age and wearing spectacles. He was carrying yet another clock. The man hadn’t noticed him yet. Jacques suspected the old man would be adding this one to the odd collection of clocks.

“Sir? Are these all your clocks?” Jacques asked, stepping closer into the light.

“Arrggarraa!!” The elderly man stumbled back. “Yo-yo-you shouldn’t be here! You should be in clockin’ school!”

“But , sir, what is clocking school?”

“It’s CLOCKIN’ you dimwit, and it’s the school all the kids go to. Every student has to learn about the clocks from the past and the clocks of today and tomorrow. Where are your parents, boy?”

“Uh, right now, in this universe, I have none.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, I fell from this book that I found in my attic. This is all so confusing! I want to go home.”

The man did not answer, but turned and went about his business with an angry, disappointed face. Jacques started to walk away from the old man. Out of the corner of his eye, Jacques saw him drop a piece of paper to the floor. It said that he had to make all the clocks tick at the same time to get home.

Jacques sighed. It looked like he’d be here for a long, long time…

Book Review: Up All Night

Up All Night by by Peter Abrahams, Libba Bray, David Levithan, Patricia Mccormick, Sarah Weeks, Gene Yang (short stories)
Review by Meg

This collection of six short stories shows just how much can happen in the space between sunset and sunrise. You can come to terms with your father's homosexuality, or with his death. You can learn how to drive, and how to drive off a threatening stepfather. You can write a story or care for a sick mouse or learn to deal with disappointment. You can discover who you really are and how you really feel. There really is a lot you can do in one night, and these stories explore it all, from the ordinariness of English homework to the exratordinary tale of a beloved father's ghost. My favorite by far was Libba Bray's Not Just for Breakfast Anymore, a story of a teenager learning to cope with the fact that her father is gay. David Levithan's contribution was also very good. Others I didn't like so much, particularly one written in the form of a comic, but on the whole, this was an excellent collection of stories by some of the best young adult authors around.