One for the wimps amongst us. Whilst I really enjoyed The Dead of Winter, it is fair to say that it did NOT end happily. However, Anne Fine's The Devil Walks has a very satisfying resolution. I enjoyed scary stories as an older child, but would not have coped well with one which ended without the evil being put to bed and a positive future ahead for the protagonaist. The Devil Walks would have suited me down to the ground. An interesting beginning, with lots of little mysteries weaved in to be solved. No scary happenings until towards the end of the book, which contains them and makes the book overall much less nerve-jangling. A scary sequence followed by the restoration of harmony.
This is a great book for transitioning a sensitive soul aged around 9+ into the darker and more macabre world of teenage fiction. The reader needs to be mature enough to cope with the death of the mother of the main character, and a slightly crazed uncle, with a reading age of approx 11 upwards. Also a good choice for reading aloud, although not necessarily at bedtime!
I am about to embark on The Crowfield Demon, which I have borrowed from our wonderful school library. Then I really must read something from another genre for young adults, as when I do my weekly "Mrs M recommends" during our reading slot in registration, I have had a few complaints of late that "Miss, you only ever read scary stories!"
Friday, 27 April 2012
Wednesday, 25 April 2012
Apparently, it is against societal norms to order two hot drinks for one person. And some lovely picture books.
It rained today, in case you didn't notice or avoid the news and social networks and outside. It was the worst day weather wise that I can remember for ages. Last Wednesday was quite rough too. Perhaps I am being punished by the powers that be for having a 0.8 timetable and spending every Wednesday jogging, reading and meeting up with various fabulous people. Sorry, that obviously should have read doing admin jobs around the house and tidying up. Anyway, though the weather was vile, I have had a lovely day. A jog around the village this morning, which blew all of the cobwebs pretty much in the world away, and then a day shopping and chatting with my best friend culminating with a visit to the library to choose books for the kids and have lunch and a cuppa. The ladies behind the till in the library cafe are really quite scary. At one point one of them shouted "Is there anyone missing any food?" The whole cafe fell absolutely silent, and when a tremulous voice answered, I was reminded of all of the scenes from Matilda where Miss Trunchbull calls upon the children to answer her.
I excited the wrath of chief denizen of the cafe by ordering both a hot chocolate and a cup of tea. I was in need of something chocolatey, and I was cold, but I was also thirsty, so thought I would be a bit crazy and order both. Don't get me wrong, I did also pay for both. But still, said lady behind the till pulled me up on my crime and I was made to feel suitably chastened. I did drink them both though, and finished my salad with my panini like a good girl.
I mostly chose reading books for C, but did sneak a couple of picture books in. Tonight we had The Opposite by Tom Macrae. It was really, really hilarious and we absolutely loved the pictures. They were very original, and quite sparse but very expressive. I particularly liked the teacher with the paint on her face.
We also had The Trouble with Dragons by Debi Gilori. It took me a good few pages to work out that the dragons were supposed to represent human beings. It took A a little longer, but after two readings she "got" it and was really impressed. She is going to take it in for show and tell tomorrow, because apparently they have been talking about climate change in class. C was pretty much oblivious to the deeper message of the book, but he quite liked the pictures. He's not so much one for allegory, and prefers his sublety to be brick-like.
I excited the wrath of chief denizen of the cafe by ordering both a hot chocolate and a cup of tea. I was in need of something chocolatey, and I was cold, but I was also thirsty, so thought I would be a bit crazy and order both. Don't get me wrong, I did also pay for both. But still, said lady behind the till pulled me up on my crime and I was made to feel suitably chastened. I did drink them both though, and finished my salad with my panini like a good girl.
I mostly chose reading books for C, but did sneak a couple of picture books in. Tonight we had The Opposite by Tom Macrae. It was really, really hilarious and we absolutely loved the pictures. They were very original, and quite sparse but very expressive. I particularly liked the teacher with the paint on her face.
We also had The Trouble with Dragons by Debi Gilori. It took me a good few pages to work out that the dragons were supposed to represent human beings. It took A a little longer, but after two readings she "got" it and was really impressed. She is going to take it in for show and tell tomorrow, because apparently they have been talking about climate change in class. C was pretty much oblivious to the deeper message of the book, but he quite liked the pictures. He's not so much one for allegory, and prefers his sublety to be brick-like.
Tuesday, 24 April 2012
The Dead of Winter by Chris Priestley
I have always loved a good scary story, especially one with a hint of the gothic. When I was at university I spent one very happy week reading Lady Audley's Secret, The Woman in White, The Castle of Otranto and, the completely bonkers The Monk. I even enjoyed writing the essay on them.
The psychological style scariness and unexplained noises, raging storms and haggard looking ghosts has always appealed to me much more than blood, gore and violence. I can cope with much more of this in books than I can in films - for example I've read American Psycho but would not even dream of watching the film version. It's easier to skim over nastiness in books and the images are less graphic and much more subtle. However, I've always found blood and gore in books to be a little brutal and obscene. My least favourite parts in Game of Thrones are the bits where people are getting various limbs chopped off by an axe, or losing their entrails in some gruesome way.
The Dead of Winter has all of the classic gothic ingredients of a good psychological ghost story, which doesn't need to feature any mention of bodily parts or spilt bodily fluids: old-fashioned setting, isolated creepy old house, characters with vague maladies of the nerves and a woman who is not quite all that she seems. It takes a couple of chapters to get going, but once the story gets moving, it becomes very difficult to put it down. It's written in Victorian style, but is written for young people, so is accessible, something which is a hallmark of Priestley's writing. It's not an easy read though - I would say a reading age of around 12 is the minimum for independent reading. It would also be far too scary for a highly sensitive under-12. Admittedly, I am not a great benchmark, being a wimp of the highest order, who would not look in the mirror for three days after watching The Others, but I did feel utterly terrified when I left my bed to go and turn out the light after finishing reading the book. I ended up having to go to the extreme lengths of reading a bit of my "English in Education" journal to dull my heightened nerves. I learnt something about the importance of grammar in English education, and was able to get to sleep without thinking that a scary ghost was going to come and kill me. Bonus.
I am hoping that the students I am reading it with will enjoy it. If they do there's a whole genre of similar, brilliant stories for them to enjoy. Next stop The Turn of the Screw or The Yellow Wallpaper. But probably not The Monk.
The psychological style scariness and unexplained noises, raging storms and haggard looking ghosts has always appealed to me much more than blood, gore and violence. I can cope with much more of this in books than I can in films - for example I've read American Psycho but would not even dream of watching the film version. It's easier to skim over nastiness in books and the images are less graphic and much more subtle. However, I've always found blood and gore in books to be a little brutal and obscene. My least favourite parts in Game of Thrones are the bits where people are getting various limbs chopped off by an axe, or losing their entrails in some gruesome way.
The Dead of Winter has all of the classic gothic ingredients of a good psychological ghost story, which doesn't need to feature any mention of bodily parts or spilt bodily fluids: old-fashioned setting, isolated creepy old house, characters with vague maladies of the nerves and a woman who is not quite all that she seems. It takes a couple of chapters to get going, but once the story gets moving, it becomes very difficult to put it down. It's written in Victorian style, but is written for young people, so is accessible, something which is a hallmark of Priestley's writing. It's not an easy read though - I would say a reading age of around 12 is the minimum for independent reading. It would also be far too scary for a highly sensitive under-12. Admittedly, I am not a great benchmark, being a wimp of the highest order, who would not look in the mirror for three days after watching The Others, but I did feel utterly terrified when I left my bed to go and turn out the light after finishing reading the book. I ended up having to go to the extreme lengths of reading a bit of my "English in Education" journal to dull my heightened nerves. I learnt something about the importance of grammar in English education, and was able to get to sleep without thinking that a scary ghost was going to come and kill me. Bonus.
I am hoping that the students I am reading it with will enjoy it. If they do there's a whole genre of similar, brilliant stories for them to enjoy. Next stop The Turn of the Screw or The Yellow Wallpaper. But probably not The Monk.
Monday, 23 April 2012
Stories of Dragons by Gill Doherty and Linda Edwards
At Beavers tonight, C was making a St George's Day bookmark. I help out at Beavers, but generally stumble in ten minutes late because of the rush to get back from work, sort kids out and then get there. So, when we arrived, the discussion about St George's Day had already taken place. The boys were merrily scratching pictures of dragons, knights and shields on their Scratch Art bookmarks, from the wallet-loosening Yellow Moon. C said "Why are we all drawing dragons?" I was mildly amused by the fact that he was happily drawing a dragon because everyone else was, despite having no idea why he was being asked to do this. I said "You know the story of St George?" "Who?" I had assumed that C would just know the story, even though, thinking about it, I have never actually told him it.
One of the good things about being an obsessive and committed book buyer, is that, generally, you can find the story you want in your own house. One of my most cherished plans for when we move house is that I am going to categorise my book collections thematically. The kids books are already in broad categories, so I went to the Myths and Legends section (otherwise known as the left side of the third shelf down) and located Stories of Dragons by Gill Doherty and Linda Edwards. There, about half way through the book was a beautifully illustrated version of George and the Dragon. The kids were a little confused because the pictures clearly depicted a landscape which was Middle-Eastern rather than British, but we used that to talk about how myths travel, and that St George is the patron saint of several other countries, as well as England.
Although we've had the book for quite a while, it's not one to read in one go necessarily, but to dip into when the occasion demands. I felt it earned its place on the shelf this evening, by filling a gap in the cultural education of the youth of this house.
One of the good things about being an obsessive and committed book buyer, is that, generally, you can find the story you want in your own house. One of my most cherished plans for when we move house is that I am going to categorise my book collections thematically. The kids books are already in broad categories, so I went to the Myths and Legends section (otherwise known as the left side of the third shelf down) and located Stories of Dragons by Gill Doherty and Linda Edwards. There, about half way through the book was a beautifully illustrated version of George and the Dragon. The kids were a little confused because the pictures clearly depicted a landscape which was Middle-Eastern rather than British, but we used that to talk about how myths travel, and that St George is the patron saint of several other countries, as well as England.
Although we've had the book for quite a while, it's not one to read in one go necessarily, but to dip into when the occasion demands. I felt it earned its place on the shelf this evening, by filling a gap in the cultural education of the youth of this house.
Sunday, 22 April 2012
The National Trust have given me a parenting test, and I have passed.
So, A and I were leafing through First News on the sofa this afternoon, lazy Sunday afternoon stylie. There was an article about the drought, which is one of her favourite "can't sleep" worries at the moment, and which, eternal thanks to the First News team, has put her mind at rest somewhat.
We then came across a tick-list, with the headline Things to Do Before You're 11 3/4. Apparently it's been compiled by the National Trust. A and I spent a happy few minutes ticking off her achievements, and I was relieved to see that she and C had pretty much done all of them already. We have cut the column out and put it in our "adventure bag" for the summer holiday. The adventure bag contains spotters guides to trees, wild flowers, bugs and animals, a magnifying glass, bug catcher and binoculars. I packed it after reading the brilliant Nature's Playground by Fiona Danks and Jo Schofield, which has given me some really good ideas for fun activities in the great outdoors. Some of them seem really obvious, but they just hadn't occurred to me before I read it. It's split into 4 sections, so there are activities for each season, and what I really like about it, is that you don't have to be a Bear Grylls type to be able to plan some activities and feel really enthused about outdoor activities.
I think the National Trust ought to send me some sort of badge that I can sew onto a blanket as proof of my achievements. This would give me the impetus I need to continue working towards the "not shouting at your kids because you're annoyed with another adult who you're not allowed to shout at" badge, or the "remembering to pay dinner money that you owe before you get a reminder letter" badge.
We then came across a tick-list, with the headline Things to Do Before You're 11 3/4. Apparently it's been compiled by the National Trust. A and I spent a happy few minutes ticking off her achievements, and I was relieved to see that she and C had pretty much done all of them already. We have cut the column out and put it in our "adventure bag" for the summer holiday. The adventure bag contains spotters guides to trees, wild flowers, bugs and animals, a magnifying glass, bug catcher and binoculars. I packed it after reading the brilliant Nature's Playground by Fiona Danks and Jo Schofield, which has given me some really good ideas for fun activities in the great outdoors. Some of them seem really obvious, but they just hadn't occurred to me before I read it. It's split into 4 sections, so there are activities for each season, and what I really like about it, is that you don't have to be a Bear Grylls type to be able to plan some activities and feel really enthused about outdoor activities.
I think the National Trust ought to send me some sort of badge that I can sew onto a blanket as proof of my achievements. This would give me the impetus I need to continue working towards the "not shouting at your kids because you're annoyed with another adult who you're not allowed to shout at" badge, or the "remembering to pay dinner money that you owe before you get a reminder letter" badge.
Saturday, 21 April 2012
Tom Gates by Liz Pichon
So far there are three books in the Tom Gates series: The Brilliant World, Everything's Amazing (sort of) and Excellent Excuses. A has read all three and is now re-reading them. C read some of the first one this morning. They are very thick, long books, but hve a LOT of illustrations, and so are actually a much easier read than they look.
I have heard them described as the British answer to the Wimpy Kid books. A hasn't read those yet. She picked the first Tom Gates book in Waterstones after her Great-Grandpa sent vouchers. She liked the front cover, and the overall look of the book. I can understand this - the book looks quirky and inviting and the pictures are amusing.
They follow the fortunes of Tom and his family, friends and school mates. A has been giving me a running commentary of the funnier happenings, and they are keeping her very well entertained. C has also been quite engrossed this morning. A good choice for those who are just beginning to tackle longer books, and for a while beyond, I would say.
I have heard them described as the British answer to the Wimpy Kid books. A hasn't read those yet. She picked the first Tom Gates book in Waterstones after her Great-Grandpa sent vouchers. She liked the front cover, and the overall look of the book. I can understand this - the book looks quirky and inviting and the pictures are amusing.
They follow the fortunes of Tom and his family, friends and school mates. A has been giving me a running commentary of the funnier happenings, and they are keeping her very well entertained. C has also been quite engrossed this morning. A good choice for those who are just beginning to tackle longer books, and for a while beyond, I would say.
Tuesday, 17 April 2012
The Dorling Kindersley Complete Dog Breed Book
Apologies for any typos tonight. I have had two days of small but irritating disasters which have led to me spending a long time mopping olives, oil and smashed glass up from the kitchen floor, and A. C, and I eating an inordinately large amount of porridge oats after an incident involving pouring milk into the wrong container. Today has been relatively disaster free, but just now I managed to brush my hand over my computer keyboard in such a way that I have shrunk the typing box on my blog to a third of its usual size. Attempting to brush it back the other way has proved futile. Mr M is currently away, so until he returns, I will have to live with typing into a tiny box.
Anyway, to today's topic. I am always extremely suspicious of any book marketed as "for reluctant readers". "Reluctant readers" is often used as a synonym for "children we consider to be educationally subnormal". The books are therefore generally patronising and a bit rubbish. Everyone is a reluctant reader until they find something which fires their imagination.
I teach a lot of kids who don't enjoy reading. They generally do not enjoy books specifically marketed to reluctant readers. Almost without exception, the boys enjoy The Guiness Book of World Records. However, ever popular with both genders are books about different dog breeds.
I have no idea why this is. Even kids who don't own a dog, or are not particularly interested in dogs LOVE looking at books where each breed has a photo and some information relating to their loooks, character and habits. We have now built a lesson into one of our schemes of work, where, after reading Buster Fleabags by Rolf Harris (a lovely book btw), the students then spend some time researching their ideal dog and producing a leaflet about it. They absolutely love it, and the lesson sometimes extends over several lessons of rigorous hard work.
The latest Book People catalogue has the DK Complete Dog Breeds Book for £5.99. I am now the proud owner of said tome. This, obviously, is ostensibly for work purposes. However, I have spent the past hour leafing through, stopping every now and then to think what it might be like to own a Beagle or a Lurcher. A was very concerned when she saw me with the book. "I'm not sure we'd cope with a dog Mummy. I think we should get chickens." Hmmm, I said, non-comitally. But in my head I was thinking "can you take a chicken for a walk?"
For the time being a dog breeds book is a much smaller commitment than an actual dog. And it's useful. Perhaps I should suggest to Dorling Kindersley that they slap a "Great for Reluctant Readers" tag somewhere on the front cover. Because, on this occasion, it would actually be true.
Anyway, to today's topic. I am always extremely suspicious of any book marketed as "for reluctant readers". "Reluctant readers" is often used as a synonym for "children we consider to be educationally subnormal". The books are therefore generally patronising and a bit rubbish. Everyone is a reluctant reader until they find something which fires their imagination.
I teach a lot of kids who don't enjoy reading. They generally do not enjoy books specifically marketed to reluctant readers. Almost without exception, the boys enjoy The Guiness Book of World Records. However, ever popular with both genders are books about different dog breeds.
I have no idea why this is. Even kids who don't own a dog, or are not particularly interested in dogs LOVE looking at books where each breed has a photo and some information relating to their loooks, character and habits. We have now built a lesson into one of our schemes of work, where, after reading Buster Fleabags by Rolf Harris (a lovely book btw), the students then spend some time researching their ideal dog and producing a leaflet about it. They absolutely love it, and the lesson sometimes extends over several lessons of rigorous hard work.
The latest Book People catalogue has the DK Complete Dog Breeds Book for £5.99. I am now the proud owner of said tome. This, obviously, is ostensibly for work purposes. However, I have spent the past hour leafing through, stopping every now and then to think what it might be like to own a Beagle or a Lurcher. A was very concerned when she saw me with the book. "I'm not sure we'd cope with a dog Mummy. I think we should get chickens." Hmmm, I said, non-comitally. But in my head I was thinking "can you take a chicken for a walk?"
For the time being a dog breeds book is a much smaller commitment than an actual dog. And it's useful. Perhaps I should suggest to Dorling Kindersley that they slap a "Great for Reluctant Readers" tag somewhere on the front cover. Because, on this occasion, it would actually be true.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)