Tag Archives: Grandparents

Wonderstruck by Brian Selznick

Since Brian Selznick‘s remarkable Wonderstruck has been out for almost a year, this may be rather old news for you. However, if, like me, you’re crawling out from that comfy rock and need an unforgettable fix to take back under, here’s your perfect next choice. Oh, goodness gracious, me-oh-my … where do I even begin to share the awe-filled wonder?

So I knew absolutely nothing about the story before I flipped back the front cover … (I did mention that rock, right?). The one thing I was well aware of was that given how magnificent Selznick’s last solo tome was – The Invention of Hugo Cabret which won the 2008 Caldecott Medal (and no, I never saw the film version) – I would need to make some time to savor his latest …

Here’s a bare minimum: two people, two generations apart, two cities, one intricately woven magical journey. Ben Wilson, of Gunflint Lake, Minnesota, is grieving the loss of his mother. He finds among her things a bookmark with a name and address that sends him on a faraway journey all by himself to New York City. Fifty years earlier, Rose Kincaid of Hoboken, New Jersey, escapes her silent world and flees across the river to the uncertain wilds of Manhattan. Both will discover secrets and shelter in museums … both will be forever wonderstruck with all that they discover. Their adventure beckons …

Before you close the back cover, make sure to read every word of the “Acknowledgments,” as Selznick shares further revelations there … from deaf vs. Deaf, to 1927 drawings, to the 1977 New York blackout, to the importance of From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler. You’ll want to know, I promise … it’s all about being fully wonderstruck.

Readers: Middle Grade, Young Adult, Adult

Published: 2011

4 Comments

Filed under ..Adult Readers, ..Middle Grade Readers, ..Young Adult Readers, .Fiction, .Graphic Novel/Manga/Manwha, Nonethnic-specific

The Street of a Thousand Blossoms by Gail Tsukiyama

For one reason or another, I’ve taken many years to finally finish a Gail Tsukiyama novel. I’ve started a few, gotten distracted and put each aside, but this time, after noticing that she was one of the few APA authors at this year’s National Book Festival (she was also featured in the fest’s debut in 2001), I chose the audible route to push myself to the end. Of her many novels, I settled on Street mainly because the narrator is actor/comedian Stephen Park whose on-film work I’ve admired through the years.

Please allow me a quick rant: audio producers should have figured out by now that we don’t all look alike, which means we don’t all speak alike, either. Hiring Park, who is Korean American, because of his ethnic Asian face does not mean that he’ll have some linguistic magic wand that enables him to speak fluent Japanese. No, really. This is a fact. Listening to Park constantly stumble with Japanese mispronunciations shows lazy casting, as well as embarrassingly irresponsible hiring for not even providing minimal language guidance. Not all Korean American actors are like James Kyson Lee who actually speaks Japanese. I have to wonder with grave concern (and not a little disgust) if producers really do think we’re interchangeable this way.

But back to Street. Two brothers, Hiroshi and Kenji, are orphaned as young children, and raised with by loving, nurturing, supportive grandparents. Japanese expansion into China and other parts of Asia has been well underway, but war does not begin to encroach into Tokyo until years later. In 1939 Tokyo, 11-year-old Hiroshi dreams of being a sumo wrestler while Kenji, age 9, finds a renowned Noh mask maker who welcomes the young boy as his apprentice.

War looms – food becomes scarce, civilians suffer at the whims of the kempeitai (military police), violence is virtually unavoidable – then bombs and fires rain down death and destruction. Shocked to hear the emperor’s very human voice for the first time in history, the nation struggles towards recovery. Life continues: Hiroshi fulfills his sumo dreams, and marries the frail, damaged younger daughter of the sumo master with whom he trains; Kenji finishes an architecture degree at prestigious Tokyo University, but returns to his love of the Noh mask and establishes himself as an unrivaled maker. Encompassing more than a quarter century, the brothers bear witness to one of the most rapidly changing periods of Japanese history, from pre-war traditions, to the paralysis of defeat and subsequent U.S. occupation, to rapid economic growth through the 1960s.

At best, Tsukiyama’s sixth novel is a solid, historical family saga. At worst, her writing tends toward pedestrian, occasionally dragging with unnecessary plodding details, other times rushing over years as if she, too, is anxious to finish the 400+ (hardcover) pages or almost 15 hours stuck in the ears. Too many of her characters prove narrow, near-saintly in their unwavering goodness, especially the brothers’ grandparents, Hiroshi’s widowed master, and Kenji’s gay mentor. That said, given Tsukiyama’s growing shelf of titles that continue to garner awards, her loyal readers clearly appreciate the reliable, albeit predictable, storytelling – uncomplicated, straight-forward … dare I say … comfortable.

Readers: Adult

Published: 2008

Leave a Comment

Filed under ..Adult Readers, .Audio, .Fiction, Japanese, Japanese American

The Revolution of Evelyn Serrano by Sonia Manzano

Not to confuse anyone, but I have to start with p. 177 because that’s where you’ll find a reference to “that cool new show Sesame Street” (which debuted 1969), because first-time novelist Sonia Manzano has been playing Sesame Street‘s Maria for the last 30+ years! While the title says Evelyn Serrano, the book’s revolutionary events are directly inspired by Manzano’s own experiences, as well as real-life newspaper headlines. Manzano even borrowed her protagonist’s name from her own grandmother, Guadalupe Serrano Manzano, and her cousin Evelyn.

Just so we’re clear now: Sonia is not Maria, but she is Evelyn although not her cousin Evelyn. Got that?

Rosa María Evelyn del Carmen Serrano announces on her 14th birthday she’s dropping ‘Rosa’ for ‘Evelyn’ – “the least Puerto Rican-sounding name I could have” – because “El Barrio, Spanish Harlem, U.S.A., did not need another Rosa, María, or Carmen.” Summer 1969 is hot, and Evelyn has been released from working in her parents’ stifling bodega to get her first job at the Third Avenue five-and-dime.

She comes home one day to find she’s been displaced from her bedroom by a flamboyant grandmother she’s never met before, newly arrived from Puerto Rico. Abuela, Evelyn quickly realizes, is nothing like her subservient, long-suffering Mami. At first, the three generations of women hardly get along: Mami still resents Abuela for neglecting her most of her life, Abuela can’t understand why Mami doesn’t have a political bone in her body, and Evelyn just wants their bickering to stop.

Then the Young Lords, a Puerto Rican activist group, takes over the neighborhood streets with brooms, piling up the garbage that the city sanitation department seems to have forgotten and eventually setting it ablaze. They move from the streets to a local church, demanding to set up a free food program, offer clothing, and even health services for their struggling immigrant community. Abuela eagerly joins the protesters. Evelyn gets swept up in their change-making energy, gaining new pride in her Puerto Rican culture and history. Even Mami gets distantly involved, at first only to ensure Evelyn’s safety … but stays long enough to realize she can make her own contributions.

The tumultuous Puerto Rican history – on both islands, in the Caribbean and on Manhattan – certainly makes for an exciting read; as a novel, however, that excitement glosses over occasional narrative gaps, especially the lack of any mention of the new school year, since the story unfolds between summer to the following winter. As for characters, stepfather Pops’ backstory seems necessary to balance knowing that Evelyn’s birthfather died while Mami was still pregnant, and smooth-talking Wilfredo’s sudden redemption feels rather forced.

What Revolution might lack in continuity and literary finesse most likely won’t keep readers turning the pages. While Evelyn’s name graces the cover, Abuela’s larger-than-life presence, her buried memories, her emotionally complicated struggles, are what spark and inspire the evolution that becomes Evelyn’s revolution.

Readers: Middle Grade, Young Adult

Published: 2012

Leave a Comment

Filed under ..Middle Grade Readers, ..Young Adult Readers, .Fiction, Caribbean, Carribbean American, Puerto Rican

Zoya’s Story: An Afghan Woman’s Struggle for Freedom by Zoya with John Follain and Rita Cristofari

Zoya was just a year old when Soviet troops invaded Afghanistan in December 1979. By age 4, she made a Russian woman soldier cry when she refused to accept her proffered chocolate. She was raised mostly by her devout grandmother, while both parents worked to free their homeland. When Zoya was 8, her mother finally revealed her work: “to help women and to bring peace to her country” through RAWA, the Revolutionary Association of the Women of Afghanistan.

After the Soviets withdrew from Afghanistan in 1989, the local warlords moved in, bringing more violence than ever before: “… my people were exhausted after suffering war for so many years. They had thrown out the Russians, but they no longer had the strength to rise up against the fundamentalists.”

In 1992, both Zoya’s parents disappeared in quick succession. With RAWA’s help, Zoya’s grandmother took Zoya and fled Kabul for Pakistan, to finally give Zoya a “proper education.” Just two years later, at 16, Zoya committed her life to RAWA. Putting her own safety and comfort aside, she joins a growing legion of committed, brave women – and a few men – to empower Afghan women and girls, to voice their struggles, and to work ceaselessly to reclaim their country from the suffocating Taliban. By just 23, Zoya is an international presence, fighting for the basic human rights for every Afghan woman and child.

Zoya is not her real name. Ironically, while she adamantly refused the chocolate from the Russian soldier, years later, she unhesitatingly accepted a Russian writer’s parting request that she take her dead daughter’s name: ”I did not even think of the Russians who had invaded Afghanistan – I knew there was a huge difference between a country’s government and its people.” Her chilling, unembellished memoir, as told to two award-winning journalists, is a mixture of utter horror (how do human beings even imagine such heinous tortures, much less actually commit them??!!) and unflagging courage. The book’s back cover of the original hardcover simply lists just some of the “restrictions and mistreatment of women under the Taliban,” including bans against medical treatment of women by male doctors, bans against laughing loudly, wearing brightly colored clothes, washing clothes next to rivers or public places, and wearing flared wide-leg pants even under a burqa. That burqa-wearing woman, Zoya observes, “is more like a live body locked in a coffin.”

Again and again, the clearest message is the need for education, especially of women and girls: “the children of Afghanistan were allowed to carry a Kalashnikov but not their homework,” she wryly observes. Education saved Zoya, and she works tirelessly to educate other girls and women, knowing that only true knowledge will bring lasting power.

Readers: Adult

Published: 2002

Leave a Comment

Filed under ..Adult Readers, .Memoir, .Nonfiction, Afghan, Nonethnic-specific

Flying the Dragon by Natalie Dias Lorenzi

Soccer-loving fifth-grader Skye lives in Virginia, just outside DC, with her American mother and her Japanese father. Her best friend recently moved to San Francisco, but Skye’s getting to know her All-Star teammates better now that she’s finally made the team.

On the other side of the world, Hiroshi is excitedly preparing for the  annual rokkaku kite battle in his native village, gently guided and encouraged by his grandfather, himself a master kitebuilder and longtime champion.

For 11 years, Skye and Hiroshi didn’t even know the other existed. Then suddenly, they’re living in the same neighborhood, going to the same school, and sharing the same grandfather. Skye and Hiroshi are cousins, whose fathers are twins, separated  until now by a family misunderstanding. Seeking the latest treatment for the grandfather’s illness, Hiroshi’s parents have moved the family to Virginia, finally mending the longstanding rift.

With all they have in common, Skye and Hiroshi initially have a difficult time accepting one another … and their jarring new family situation. Skye is confronted with family members she never knew she had; in order to get to know them better, especially her grandfather, she must quickly strengthen her Japanese language skills. If she can’t get into the advanced language class, she’ll also risk losing her spot on the All-Star team which meets to practice at the same time as the less-advanced class.

Hiroshi is completely adrift, struggling in his English as a Second Language class, longing for the familiarity of home, not to mention his once exclusive relationship with his grandfather whom he must now share. With patience and kites, of course, the grandfather brings the cousins together, little by little, story by story … before it’s too late …

First-time novelist Natalie Dias Lorenzi writes a tender story about cultural disconnect, even in one’s own family. I might argue over a few details – the severity of Skye’s initial embarrassment over being associated with her (foreign) cousin at school, as well as Skye’s schoolmates’ overreaction to either her father or Skye herself speaking Japanese, seemed a bit exaggerated as the DC-area population, especially in Northern Virginia where Skye’s family lives, is hugely international, and multiple languages and cultural practices can be heard and seen on just about any street corner. That said, Lorenzi is especially insightful and sensitive to the hapa issues Skye faces, of not being American enough with an immigrant father, and not Japanese enough among her language school classmates or her newly-arrived relatives. Lorenzi’s personal experience as an ESL teacher, as well as her years abroad living in Japan (and Italy), also gives her novel a comfortable sense of authenticity; her “Acknowledgements” at book’s end is also proof of her careful research.

Slight quibbles aside, Skye and Hiroshi’s growing relationship is warmly tear-inducing, while the grandfather’s faraway stories about his beloved, late wife will keep the waterworks streaming. Young readers and their (jaded) parents both will find a resonating, touching story here, a welcome reminder to the power of family ties, strange and foreign as they might initially seem.

Readers: Middle Grade

Published: 2012

Leave a Comment

Filed under ..Middle Grade Readers, .Fiction, Hapa, Japanese, Japanese American

NonNonBa by Shigeru Mizuki, translated by Jocelyne Allen, afterword by Kimie Imura

The work of Shigeru Mizuki, a legendary 90-year-old manga artist in his native Japan, arrived Stateside last year with the first-ever English translation of the award-winning Onward Towards Our Noble Deaths, which draws on Mizuki’s own experiences during World War II when he was drafted into Japan’s Imperial Army and shipped out to what is now Papua New Guinea. While Onward was about the senseless violence and unnecessary tragedy of war, NonNonBa – based on Mizuki’s own boyhood – is nearly its opposite: light, humorous, playful, with occasional serious references to childhood death and even child trafficking.

Shigeru, also known as “GeGe,” is the middle child in a family of three boys; their mother has pretensions of past grandeur, while their Tokyko-educated father dreams of bringing true culture to their remote seaside town. The year is 1931, and Shigeru and his friends spend their days fighting “from morning until night.” But at nighttime, he “immersed [himself] in the world of dreams … drawing these worlds” into stories he shared with appreciative family and friends. His schoolwork might have suffered, but his artistry flourished.

In this delightful ‘portrait of a manga artist as a young man among ghosts,’ Shigeru’s imagination is continuously nurtured by NonNonBa, an elderly village widow who lives with Shigeru’s family on and off, in between various jobs. The unusual name, Japanese supernatural expert Kimie Imura explains in her afterword, is a combination of “NonNon-san,” which refers to people who served Buddha, and “Obaasan,” for grandmother: “NonNon Obaasan” (Grandmother NonNon) was abbreviated to “NonNonBa.”

Shigeru’s NonNonBa is a patient, kind, caring woman who shares endless stories about ghosts, spirits, even monsters she herself has encountered and continues to meet now and then. While such beings are all lumped together as yōkai, each being has distinct, individual characteristics; Shigeru gets to know quite a few of them well, including “Mr. Sticky” who tries to follow him home, the “wart yōkai” who initially proves useful at school, and the “Azuki Hakari” who enjoys multiple friendly visits (not to mention a good hot bath!).

In between his yōkai visitors, Shigeru and his friends plot their battle strategies, his father goes through multiple jobs including an attempt to open a local cinema, a sickly cousin arrives from Tokyo and regales Shigeru with big city-delights, a mystery family moves into the town’s haunted house, and Shigeru befriends a little girl with other worldly connections. All the while, NonNonBa is a constant presence, introducing, explaining, loving. Her stories – in action and words – remain the same: kindness is always the best weapon of all.

Readers: Young Adult, Adult

Published: 1977, 2012 (United States)

Leave a Comment

Filed under ..Adult Readers, ..Young Adult Readers, .Graphic Novel/Manga/Manwha, .Memoir, .Nonfiction, .Translation, Japanese

Money Boy by Paul Yee

‘Gritty’ is the first word that comes to mind after finishing this slim young adult novel about a teenage Chinese immigrant’s struggles with his conservative father over his sexuality.

Ray Liu is new to the West. He’s left behind half his family in China, including his less-than-reliable mother, and his most beloved grandfather. He doesn’t speak English well and seems to be having a harder time adjusting to life in Toronto than his fellow immigrant friends. He’s not like his stepbrother, a dutiful son and high-achieving student who makes their parents so proud. Truth be told, Ray is most comfortable alone in his room playing computer games with friends he can’t see, much less have to talk to.

Then his father – a former army/police officer in China – discovers Ray’s secret, and proceeds to calmly throw Ray out of the house. Ray’s odyssey takes him through alleyways and shelters, facing violence and unexpected friendship. When he loses everything of value, he must decide if he’ll join the other ‘money boys’ on the streets to survive …

Third-generation Chinese Canadian Paul Yee, a historian by training whose Tales from Gold Mountain told the stories of early North American Chinese pioneers, explores the contemporary lives of newer immigrants. Unlike past generations whose homeland connections were virtually severed by thousands of distant miles, today’s immigrants have easy access via modern technology. Ray’s longing to go home to China, for example,  is temporarily quelled, albeit discouraged, by phone calls to his errant mother. The opportunity to go home, if only to visit, is very much a reality, as long as airfare can be found.

And yet for young Ray, living in a country that recognizes gay marriage (!) – in spite of his disapproving parents – is a vastly different alternative to returning to a homeland where homosexuality is barely acknowledged to even exist. For now, he can’t go back to China, he won’t go back to his judgmental father, but his options are quickly disappearing …

No rose-colored glasses mitigate Ray’s gritty experience on the streets. No sugar-coating, no magic wand, no avenging angel to save Ray from himself … life, indeed, is tough for the new immigrant. His journey proves eye-opening, hair-raising, and downright heartbreaking. Parents and young adults both – especially those who might be knocking heads more often than not – would do well to read this together. Sooner rather than later …

Readers: Young Adult

Published: 2011

Leave a Comment

Filed under ..Young Adult Readers, .Fiction, Canadian Asian Pacific American

Ichiro by Ryan Inzana

A shape-shifting teapot which releases a mischievous tanuki when heated. A fatherless hapa Japanese American boy headed to Japan to stay with his mother’s father whom he barely knows. Two stories, two cultures, two vastly different worlds, all intertwine to create a fantastical adventure in Ryan Inzana‘s surprising, highly original Ichiro.

In a New York City subway, young Ichiro watches his Japanese American mother accosted by street youths with their racist comments of “chink-ee eyes” and “could blind her wit’ dental floss.” She doesn’t engage, merely moving away, assuming (hoping) that Ichiro’s headphones have kept him protected for the time being. Ironically, and sadly, Ichiro is learning a not dissimilar racism from his bitter American grandfather – having lost his son, Ichiro’s father, to war – directed at the diverse immigrants in their post-9/11 neighborhood.

Ichiro is not quite ready to visit his mother’s homeland where she will work and he will be left behind with his Japanese grandfather. In Japan, Ichiro doesn’t quite fit in either, clearly being more American than Japanese … and the local bullies know how to make him feel unwelcome. But his grandfather is patient and gentle, ready with both historical and cultural lessons and insight. Having survived WWII, he also explains a very different view of war and its aftermath to his unaware grandson.

One night, Ichiro ventures out into his grandfather’s backyard where he’s set a trap to catch whoever – or whatever – has been stealing all the ripening fruit. When he startles a hungry tanuki, Ichiro is suddenly pulled into a completely different world … where all hell breaks loose – literally. He’s about to experience a war of his own … good guys, bad guys, and all the other characters in between …

The constant movement Inzana captures in his sweeping art quickly draws readers into his multi-layered story. Moments that might occasionally seem overly didactic to adult readers as Ichiro is forced to outgrow his simplified, childhood view of clear-cut right and wrong will probably go unnoticed by the book’s intended audience of middle grade and high school readers. In spite of the story’s swift pace, young readers will hopefully pause to give serious consideration to the all-encompassing tragedies of war, violence, collateral damage, in addition to everyday acts including bullying.

While Inzana entertains, he also gives warning. “What is the world coming to?” the final panel asks in full technicolor. Surely, with the future always encroaching, our youth will need to answer sooner than later.

Readers: Middle Grade, Young Adult, Adult

Published: 2012

Leave a Comment

Filed under ..Adult Readers, ..Middle Grade Readers, ..Young Adult Readers, .Fiction, .Graphic Novel/Manga/Manwha, Hapa, Japanese, Japanese American

Return to Sender by Julia Alvarez

Here’s a rather unique literary coincidence: Julia Alvarez‘s Finding Miracles ends with an uncle missing the grandmother’s wedding because of hemorrhoid surgery. Return to Sender begins with the mention of another uncle (in a totally unrelated story) suffering through a hemorrhoid operation. Try and find two books to repeat that experience!

Oh, but I digress …

In Return to Sender, two different families meld into each other, initially from circumstance, and then with heartfelt connections. Tyler Paquette, 11, is shocked to learn that because of his father’s debilitating accident, the family is hiring three Mexican migrant workers (who are brothers) to help run the family farm in Vermont. With them arrive three young daughters; the oldest, Mari, is Tyler’s age, and will soon enough be in his sixth-grade class. Tyler is even more troubled to realize that the Cruz brothers – as competent, reliable, and farm-saving as they will prove to be – are also illegal immigrants. Interwoven with Tyler’s story, are Mari’s letters to her missing mother. Many months ago, Mari’s mother left the family when they were still living in North Carolina to visit her ailing mother in Mexico, and seemingly disappeared somewhere between there and here.

Over the months, the Paquette and Cruz families blend: Tyler and Mari become especially supportive friends; the girls help alleviate Tyler’s grandmother’s paralyzing loneliness after losing Tyler’s grandfather; and Tyler’s parents are gratefully relieved that the Cruz brothers have returned the family farm to full function. Of course, challenges are plenty, too: Mari is targeted at school as an outsider; enough disgruntled townspeople speak out loudly against the illegal workers; immigration raids are not uncommon; and the Cruz family finally learns the fate of the mother.

Alvarez is certainly working with a difficult, timely topic and, while readers will have no doubt as to her own views, her characters openly express battling opinions. The children are certainly the most effected: Tyler’s love of his country and the need to respect his country’s laws are painfully questioned; Mari, as the only sister not born in the U.S., faces a precarious future as she worries about the possible deportation of her parents and uncles, and the challenges her sisters will face if they are forced to live a very different life in the family’s Mexican village. Alvarez thoughtfully offers no easy solutions.

Alvarez won the 2010 Pura Belpré Medal winner for narrative with this title; the prestigious Pura Belpré Awards from the American Library Association ”is presented to a Latino/Latina writer and illustrator whose work best portrays, affirms, and celebrates the Latino cultural experience in an outstanding work of literature for children and youth.” The strength of Alvarez’s story is clearly in the individual relationships created and cemented by people with vastly disparate backgrounds. Beyond the official rules and regulations, beyond borders, beyond the headlines, are two friends who share a love of the stars, whose families and lives converge long enough to establish a lasting, human bond.

Readers: Middle Grade, Young Adult

Published: 2009

Leave a Comment

Filed under ..Middle Grade Readers, ..Young Adult Readers, .Audio, .Fiction, Carribbean American, Latino/a

Finding Miracles by Julia Alvarez

Sandwiched between sister Kate and brother Nate, Milly Kaufman is the only adopted child of their Jewish father and Mormon mother. She began life with the name Milagros (as in ‘miracles’), until she was claimed as an infant by parents working with the Peace Corps in a troubled, never-named Latin American country. While the family has always been candid about her birth, 16-year-old Milly just wants to fit in with the rest of their small Vermont town.

Milly’s faraway past arrives at school one day with the appearance of new student Pablo Bolivar, a refugee from her birthcountry. She overcomes her initial discomfort when their families begin to spend more time together, and Pablo proves to be a gentle, thoughtful soul who, in spite of his youth, has seen too much of a violent, troubled world.

As both families grow closer, Milly wonders more openly about her own history. When she inadvertently finds out that her wealthy grandmother’s revised will treats her differently from the other grandchildren, her concept of family shifts – and, for the first time, she’s ready to find out who she really is.

When new elections allow the Bolivars to return to their home country that summer, Milly decides to accompany them, even as her parents worry – her sister Kate most of all – that they are losing their little girl. Buffered by the extended Bolivar clan – especially by Pablo who becomes her guide, confidante, and more – Milly learns of her country’s horrific history … to which her own past is inextricably linked.

Julia Alvarez, whose own turbulent family history in the Dominican Republic has inspired multiple bestselling titles (most notably How the García Girls Lost Their Accents and In the Time of the Butterflies), treads an uneven line in Miracles, shifting between something akin to a happily-ever-after fairy tale and shockingly gory nightmare.

The miraculous coincidences Milly experiences in her birthcountry (finding someone connected to her orphanage almost on arrival, for example) seem just too convenient. Her selfish grandmother (who comes with her own European Jewish family baggage) has too easy a redemptive turnaround. To the other extreme, the horrors Milly learns that are part of her personal history seem far too graphic and gruesome for a middle grade/young adult title, as well as just too jarring with the rest of the story.

Disappointments aside, Daphne Rubin-Vega (who also narrates Alvarez’s Once Upon a Quinceañera) will convince you to keep the ‘play’-button on, bestowing gravitas on Milly’s growing awareness. What might occasionally flounder on the page definitely gets a lift from her husky, emotive voice. Now you know your options, choose wisely.

Readers: Middle Grade, Young Adult

Published: 2004

1 Comment

Filed under ..Middle Grade Readers, ..Young Adult Readers, .Audio, .Fiction, Carribbean American, Latino/a