The Book Review Club - The Greenglass House

The Greenglass House
Kate Milford
middle grade

Looking for a story to drive away the long hours that pile together in huge drifts winter break? This is just the tale.

Milo Pine is settling in for the long winter break at his family's hotel, The Greenglass House, when not just one but six unexpected visitors arrive. Milo, who feels most comfortable when things are exactly as they are supposed to be, is thrown off-balance, especially when Meddy arrives. About his age, Meddy is all about adventure, and finding out why the visitors have all descended on the hotel at the same time. A mystery is afoot. As it turns out, the house--which mostly serves the area's smugglers--was the home of the greatest smuggler in Nagspeake, Doc Holystone, who died under mysterious circumstances. Cue--ghost and increased tension. Then things begin to disappear, or are they stolen? Meddy and Milo play Odd Trails, a role-playing game to discover the truth, and it's more than either bargains for.

Yep, this book version of Clue is sure to keep readers on the edge of their seats and far away from winter boredom as they track down thieves, smugglers, cat burglars, hidden trains, ghosts, lost smugglers, last cargoes, hidden treasures, famous stained glass artists, and the like. Throw in a snow storm and hot chocolate, and winter break is over before anyone realizes it's begun, both in the book and in real life.

Admittedly, there are a host of characters to keep track of, and it took some getting used to when both Meddy and Milo took on different names for their role-playing characters, and switch back and forth depending on whether their playing or not.  And then there are the multiple stories within the story itself. It's a lot, but it works. I suppose some might say such complexity could challenge, even confuse, a young reader. Young readers are often grossly underestimated. They are far better at keeping track of characters and details with their spry little minds than almost any adult, and this one gives them so much to chew on.

So pull up a chair, get a cup of hot chocolate, and dive in. Just remember to get up and grab a cheese sandwich now and again.

For more great reads, stomp on over to Barrie Summy's website. She's pouring them hot and tasty!

The Demonator Returns

It happens about twice a year. And when it does, Katie bar the door. SNOW. Just watch how loudly you utter that devilish word here in Oklahoma. I've heard many a Sooner decry it as a four letter word. Okay, it does have four letters, but you get the point.

I don't share the agony many down here experience when it snows. I chalk it up to the fact that grew up in Indiana. Snow country. As kids, my brother and I lived for that glistening white magic. We were the meanest sledders in our whole backyard (not to mention Suicide Hill where we sledded with all the other crazy people when it snowed really hard). However, I did grow so daring one winter - we'd had a lot of snow - the regular sledding down the backyard hill got kind of boring. I decided to experiment. I think I was one of the first snowboarders. Mind you, it wasn't anything fancy. I just tried standing up on my sled and using the pull rope attached to the front for balance.

I flew down that hill. Screeching. Cheering my own ingenuity. I was on top of the world. Until I barreled into the bush at the bottom of the hill.

Yeah, I hadn't seen that one coming. I even slit open my forehead.

I was ten and my fury knew no boundaries. I swore to cut down the bush that night. But my mom made me come in for dinner instead.

As the days passed, though, the scar across my forehead became a badge of honor. I was the kid who'd sledded standing up...and lived to tell about it.

So you can imagine my chagrin when it began to look more and more like we wouldn't have any snow before Christmas this year. We've had a very dry winter so far. And then, last night, that blessed cold front came down from the north. We didn't quite get snow. It was 75 when the cold front pushed through, after all. But we did get ice. Enough to cancel schools.

But more importantly, enough for the Demonator.

I wish I'd come up with the name. I'm a writer after all. But I give full credit to my firstborn daughter and her best friend from across the street. They nicknamed our red Radio Flyer metal runner sled the Demonator two winters ago when, according to them, all on its own, it took them sailing down the hill out in front of our house, down the long street, and right up the driveway of the house at the bottom of the hill straight into the garden. Both girls were thrown clear of the sled when it crashed intothe brick walkway around the garden. No one was hurt. More, scared out of their snowsuits. So of course the incident immediately became legend.

The story gets better each year (I've heard it told that sparks were flying off the back of the sled when it hopped the curb and flew over the drive and into the garden). The sled, for its part, plays along. It it unpredictable, like a bucking bronco. Kids get thrown every year. Which means the line to ride it gets longer. And what started as a nickname is now a permanent title of honor and fear.

Which makes me more curious each year. I haven't tried the Demonator out alone. I've always been forced to take a kid along. But when I got up and saw the ice this morning, I wondered, how bad could it be? I mean, what would it be like to stand up on that puppy and sail down a hill? The kids are watching a movie and drinking hot chocolate after all...

Oh, Demonator.....