Secrets, Platforms, Bizarre Britishisms


The Secret of Platform 13 by Eva Ibbotson. Dutton, 1994.

Rich and fun fantasy. Ibbotson starts off with quaint Brittishisms, ghosts, and secret doors to other worlds. What’s not to love? Loads of fantastical invention and a heavy dose of political correctness. Atmospheric with a distant 3rd person narrator, similar in voice to others like Charlotte’s Web, Tuck Everlasting, a storybook voice that’s lolling and gentle, saying “come along for a story, children.”
  • There’s no mad rush to get the action going at the start. Too bad children are so impatient and discriminating that they won’t bother with such a slow beginning (note sarcasm). In my experience, children are far more tolerant of lousy writing/boring books than adults. Not that this is lousy or boring. Much to the contrary.
  • Wonderful use of jump cuts/scene breaks and such, and phrases like pancakes “warm as puppies,” make me salivate. 
  • A strange, Dursley-like character (Harry Potter). 
  • Deft use of POV. Note the selection from pp. 91-92: We were in a rather distant 3rd narration, then a new paragraph, “Raymond was still staring at the little creature. No one at school had anything like that. He’d be able to show it off to everyone. Paul had a tree frog and Derek had a grass snake, but this would beat them all.” Clearly diving into Raymond’s head, then pulling back out again with the voice of another character speaking. 
  • Handbags of Harpies. HA! And the various scenes weave together brilliantly. Mrs. T’s perfume down the drain giving away her location, etc. All around fun!

Collection of Poems, linked


Carver: A Life in Poems by Marilyn Nelson. Front Street, 2001.

Would it be admitting ignorance to say I don’t like poems I don’t understand? I mean, I sort of understand “The Perceiving Self,” but I mostly don’t. It makes me wonder if the purpose of poetry is to communicate, to feel smart, to make your reader feels unsmart ...

“[T]ouched our stamens/pleasured us with pollen.” Obviously sexual, but what to do with a lynching? Other images in that one confuse me too. Am I too dense to read poetry? 

I do love the artistry and form of this book: poems from various perspectives all drawing a picture of Carver and the world in which he lived. The sad truth: I had to Google Carver to make sense of the poems (I dimly remembered his name being related to peanuts from some lesson in preschool—my lord, preschool!). Thank God for Wikipedia. 

I wish Nelson had found some way to contextualize the poems for those of us who are a. young (since this is in the junior nonfiction section), b. products of the modern educational system, c. missed a lot of school (literally or metaphorically) even if a and b are not the case, or d. are just plain ignorant. 

Lovely words, lovely poems, but the poems are sort of like single petals of a yellow flower. We don’t know if we have a daisy or a dandelion. And how we understand and appreciate the flower depends upon where we find it: a garden, the lawn, a clogged downspout. “His students/see the light of genius/through the dusky window of his skin”—beautiful petals, but of what? Where? Many stunning poems like, “From an Alabama Farmer.” But the title says it’s a life in poems. Somehow I missed the life, found only poems.


Nelson's other book for this age group however, Fortune's Bones, is among my favorites of all time.

On Punctuating Dialog ...

It’s a common confusion – how on earth do I punctuate dialog? Punctuating dialog is the same as punctuating any sentence, isn't it? You put the end punctuation at the end of a sentence? Except with dialog, even if it’s not the end of a sentence, you still might put in end punctuation, but then you need more end punctuation, and ... it’s a confusing mess. The key is this: in dialog you are punctuating complete and separate sentences. Take this example:

“Mary, I really like you.” The boy reached for the soda and poured a glass.

“Mary, I really like you” and “The boy reached for the soda and poured a glass” are both complete sentences. There’s a period after “I really like you” and the first word of the second sentence is capitalized, just as you’d expect.

Most people intuitively punctuate both sentences separately. Only those who are thinking about “some rule” they learned back in high school, about how a comma comes right before the end quotation mark, mess this up. But really, it makes sense. If the sentences are separate, if each can stand on its own, then you punctuate them like two distinct sentences.

Now for the sticky comma. Where it goes and why. Another example:

“Your beard is looking good today,” Mary said to Miss Maven.

“Your beard is looking good today” IS a complete sentence, but “Mary said to Miss Maven” is NOT a complete sentence. Said what? Huh? Mary said something? It’s what is called a Dialog Tag. Like a Christmas gift with a tag telling you who it’s from, the Dialog Tag tells you who said something and (sometimes) how it was said. The stuff in quotes is the gift. The “said whoosibuts” is the tag.

Correct: “I like cheese,” said Marty.

Incorrect: “I like cheese.” Said Marty.

“Said Marty” doesn’t make a lick of sense all by itself because it’s not a complete sentence. So, the “gift” (the “what is said”) part of the sentence is not punctuated as a complete sentence either. You can’t separate the tag from the gift or you won’t know who gave it to you. That’s why you use a comma.

This is pleasantly complicated when the thing that is said is a question or an exclamation.

“I love cheese!” screamed Marty. AND “Do we like cheese?” screamed Marty.

You have a dialogue tag (screamed Marty), so there is really only one sentence (“screamed Marty” can’t stand alone), but you have no comma because of the exclamation point and question mark. The dialog itself is punctuated to show the emotion or question, and the end punctuation is a simple period.

Some more examples:

Correct: “Martha Stuart, I’ve had it!” Cindy cocked the gun and aimed it at Martha’s chest. Two separate sentences, no dialog tag. Both sentences are punctuated individually.

Incorrect: “Martha, you are too much,” Cindy squinted past the glow from Martha's blowtorch at the exquisite gold-foil centerpiece. Two separate sentences, no dialog tag. These should be punctuated individually, with a period at the end of the dialog instead of a comma. Fix: “Martha, you are too much.” Cindy squinted at the exquisite gold-foil centerpiece.

Correct: Herbert didn’t know how long he’d waited. “What time is it?” he asked. Even though the dialog ends in a question mark, it is followed by a tag, so the “he” isn’t capitalized. This shows that the tag goes with the “gift.”

Incorrect: Herbert twiddled his thumbs. He glanced at the clock. “What time is it?” He finally asked. “He asked” can’t stand on it’s own. Even though there is a question mark (end punctuation) just after it, “he” should not be capitalized. Fix: Herbert twiddled his thumbs. He glanced at the clock. “What time is it?” he finally asked.

Correct: “We gather together on this blessed occasion,” the pastor droned. Dialog tag, one sentence. Comma and lower case.

Correct: “We gather together on this blessed occasion.” The pastor paused to sip from a cup beneath the podium, then continued by saying, “The joining of these two kids who really should have known better.” First sentence is not followed by a dialog tag. Second sentence (“The pastor ...”) becomes a dialog tag for the dialog that follows it, and so it ends in a comma.

Incorrect: “Why, Cindy, is that thing real?” She asked over the deafening alarm bells. “She asked” is a dialog tag and shouldn’t be punctuated as a separate sentence. Fix: “Why, Cindy, is that thing real?” she asked over the deafening alarm bells.

Correct: “Why, Herbert, is that a new style from Spain?” She glanced down, then back up to his eyes and smiled sweetly. “Or did you forget your pants?” No tag; all three are separate sentences and are punctuated independently.

Correct: “Velma, my dear,” he intoned, “you are a sore for sight eyes.” Dialog tag interrupts a sentence. Separated off with commas.

Correct: “I see you haven’t been taking your medication,” Velma quipped. “You really should seek help, Daryl. Professional help.” Tag applies to the first phrase of dialog. The second phrase is a new idea/thought/sentence. Period comes after the tag in this case.

Oh, and as an aside, do avoid using intoned and quipped and such. Said is almost always best. Unless you're being silly.

On Homesick


Homesick: My Own Story by Jean Fritz. 1982.

The story of Fritz’s childhood in China. A memoir for children full of fun stories and written in an accessible fairy-tale tone. Rich detail, vivid storytelling, a likable protagonist. There is very little difference between this work of nonfiction and many of the novels I’ve read. Though I’ve yet to read a quote as fun as this one:
“A cat is a cat. There are no foreign cats, no Chinese cats, no capitalist cats, no Communist cats. Just cats.” --Yan Sze-Fu
Love it! Although I'd guess my cat is a Union cat ...

Bizarre and Creepy: Perfect Middle Grade


Skellig by David Almond. 1998.

Chapter 1 thoughts: The protagonist is sort of grouchy, but the toilet in the dining room made me laugh. Now on to the rest of the book:
  • Psychological honesty: Michael’s emotions aren’t simple I like this I don’t like that. He can love and hate simultaneously, feel compassion for and horror at the creature in the garage at the same time. So often I’ve had critique partners comment on my work—"But he called the baby stupid and now he’s praying for her to get better? Inconsistent!" they cry. When are we ever, any of us, consistent? 
  • Description: “The red sauce below his lips was like congealed blood” (29), or, “I thought of his wings and of the baby’s fluttering heart” (99). It just doesn’t get better than that! 
  • The art teacher says you get better at drawing by drawing. The same goes for writing—Michael got braver and bolder, and I think Almond shows incredible bravery and boldness by writing this book that any (most, anyhow) writing teacher would dismiss as too bizarre for words. Owl-angel-men, Persephone, dying infants, and adorable britishism like blinking and bloody and knocky down. 
  • Repetition of ideas, phrases, the whole is unpredictable as anything, yet feels choreographed, like a complicated and beautiful dance. 
  • Enough of these books that make me cry like a blinking baby!!!!

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