By Brian Jacques, Reviewed by Andrew Glick
Published November 27, 2016
Triss by Brian Jacques; Philomel Books: New York, 2002; $23.99 A book of adventures. Comic and distinct personalities. Several story lines that wittily intertwine together, make the book Triss by Brian Jacques an intriguing read....
By Elizabeth B. Smith, Illustrated by Rachel Stanley
Published November 27, 2016
"Why am I so dumb, Hobo?" I asked the short, jetblack gelding. I knew he couldn't answer me, but I knew he could understand. Just two days ago, I had failed my first seventh-grade math...
By Maya Koretzky, Illustrated by Andrew Smith
Published November 27, 2016
Yesterday, a stranger landed on our beach. I was on the beach because Pa won't let me go out on the boats fishing. I saw the sail first, then the man balanced on the prow...
By Kyle Eichner, Illustrated by Vivien Rubin
Published November 27, 2016
Jessie sat down heavily on the bench and sighed. The heat was getting to her again, and her dress clung to her body. Hopefully, the tree would provide some cool shade. Although in South Carolina,...
By Caitlin Peterson, Illustrated by Melissa Moucka
Published November 27, 2016
Every year at our cottage, we feed corn to the deer. All of the deer look pretty much the same. They all have brown fur that turns gray in the fall, a bright white tail—and...
By Megan M. Gannett, Illustrated by Rosemary Engelfried
Published November 27, 2016
Every year spring rushes in with a parade of colors, a symphony of sounds and a thrill of smells. Much as I enjoy the pearly sheen and biting chill of winter, it is the morning...
By Preston Craig, Illustrated by J. Palmer
Published November 27, 2016
Alexis Jamison looked thoughtfully at the young gray wolf anxiously pacing the enclosure. "You've got green eyes. That's odd. Did you know that most gray wolves have gold eyes, or yellow even?" The wolf whined...
By Devin McKissic, Illustrated by Ksenia Vlasov
Published November 27, 2016
I started out the window, looking onto the surging crowds with sadness and fear. I had always known the revolution might happen—as if my brother, Anton, would ever let us forget. He was always out...
By Katie Ferman
Published November 27, 2016
Traveling the interstate routes With no sense of direction Following no road map Traveling only by the lay of the land Going on only because Of the love of the land You and your dad...
By Max Mendelsohn
Published November 27, 2016
I love the sound of marbles scattered on the worn wooden floor, like children running away in a game of hide-and-seek. I love the sight of white marbles, blue marbles, green marbles, black, new marbles,...
