The mind of Newbery Award-winning writer Neil Gaiman must be a very animated, busy and slightly offbeat place—and thankfully so. Otherwise, adults and children alike would be missing out on some of the most inventive characters and stories of our time.

In this fantastical romp, laden with the echoes of Norse mythology, readers meet Odd, a 12-year-old Norwegian boy who is down on his luck. He recently lost his father, a master carver who dove overboard on a Viking ship to rescue a pony. Then, Odd crushes his leg in a tree-felling accident and is left to hobble about with one good leg, one bad leg and one wooden crutch.

Despite his moniker, Odd’s name doesn’t really fit him. He is, perhaps, the most normal character in this short, yet extremely compelling, novel. There are far more odd fellows the boy will encounter when he ventures out of his village—fed up with grumpy villagers and a drunken stepfather, and eager for adventure. It isn’t long before befriends a fox, a bear and an eagle—at least that’s what he initially believes them to be. Odd is soon enraptured and entwined in their spectacular tales of powerful gods, teasing goddesses, intimidating Frost Giants and a magical place known as Asgard.

Nothing is as it seems, Odd will soon learn. The woods are full of surprises, minds can play tricks and animals can transmogrify. The world of what is real and what is imagined soon melds together—with Odd smack in the middle.
In this magical novel, dry humor is woven into the concise text. Anthropomorphic animals, vivid imagery and fantastical happenings provide an extremely quick-paced and accessible introduction to mythology.

Readers, especially young boys, will easily be drawn into Odd’s excellent adventure, which is ultimately a satisfying coming-of-age story wrapped in magic and mythical overtones.

Sharon Verbeten is a freelance writer and former children’s librarian in De Pere, Wisconsin.

Grandma Dowdel lives! Fans of Richard Peck’s Newbery-winning books A Year Down Yonder and A Long Way from Chicago know that this is indeed good news. If you haven’t met this feisty heroine, you’ve got a treat in store with A Season of Gifts.

This time, the year is 1958, and Elvis is King. A preacher, his wife and three children move next door to Grandma Dowdel in a small Illinois town. The Barnhart family includes Ruth Ann, about to enter first grade, her big sister Phyllis, who adores Elvis, and 11-year-old Bob, our narrator. Bob describes how the town bully and his minions drag him to a nearby creek, strip him of his clothes and duct-tape his mouth shut. It is indeed a horror story, but in Peck’s version, things turn out all right, and justice is finally served. The bullies end their fun by stringing Bob up over Grandma Dowdel’s privy. When she discovers him there, she swears that she will never let anyone know she has witnessed his humiliation.

Grandma quietly helps out all of Bob’s family in the short time that they are next-door neighbors. The Barnharts have little money, and their father’s church is in disrepair with no congregation. Luckily, rumors soon begin to fly that Mrs. Dowdel’s melon patch is haunted by the ghost of a native Kickapoo princess. Hundreds of folks come out to try to get a glimpse. When the crowds become overwhelming, Mrs. Dowdel presents Mr. Barnhart with a box containing, she claims, the princess’ remains. After he preaches a stirring funeral for the circus-like crowd, both his congregation and popularity begin to grow.

Peck’s lovingly written historical fiction provides a wonderful glimpse into times past. Grandma Dowdel fends for herself by canning produce, catching and cooking a turtle, gathering walnuts and hunting birds. Her gifts don’t come from stores, but they certainly last forever in these fast-paced adventures.

Alice Cary writes from Groton, Massachusetts.

Bran Hambric has a crummy home life. His foster parents, Sewey and Mabel Wilomas, make Bran sleep in the attic and do chores around the house; they won’t even add his name to their “Wilomas Family” sign.

But Bran is no ordinary orphan. When he was six years old, Sewey mysteriously found him in a locked bank vault. Nobody knows how Bran got there, and Bran has no memories before the vault. Because mages and gnomes are strictly outlawed in the city of Dunce, Bran would never imagine himself part of a magical plot, until he involuntarily performs magic at the Duncelander Fair, and allies and foes suddenly appear from an underground magical network. Bran quickly learns that his dead mother was a mage who created a terrible curse, and only he holds the key to the curse’s completion.

As readers devour Bran Hambric: The Farfield Curse, the experience may feel like a rolling snowball. The momentum of the plot builds as the pages turn, and we only discover the truth of Bran’s background in the book’s final chapters.

It is impossible to read about Bran Hambric without thinking of a certain lightning bolt-branded wizard who came before him. Both Bran and Harry Potter live with unpleasant foster families and discover their unusual abilities late in life. Bran is not a wannabe Harry Potter, though; rather, his story is a delightfully different take on a magical population.

Younger readers will enjoy this story because of the general silliness of its characters. Most memorable is Sewey Wilomas, a “Schweezer”-driving wacko who refuses to pay his bills. Older readers may take away lessons from the book’s themes: the difficulty of making big choices, the nonsense behind discrimination and the deep thinking involved in navigating right from wrong.

Aspiring young writers will find a role model in Kaleb Nation, the precocious 20-year-old who spent his teenage years writing Bran Hambric (among other pursuits). At kalebnation.com, readers can listen to music composed by this talented author and watch self-produced videos documenting his journey to publishing success.

Eliza Borné writes from Nashville.

“I had everything I needed to run a household: a house, food, and a new family,” explains 11-year-old Aubrey after stocking up on SpaghettiOs and buying Sammy, a pet fish, to keep her company. In Suzanne LaFleur’s tender debut novel, Love, Aubrey, the grieving girl has been holed up in her Virginia home since her mother, Lissie, devastated by the car crash that claimed Aubrey’s father and younger sister, packed up and left her all alone.

Discovered by her concerned Gram, Aubrey accompanies her back to Vermont, where they begin their search for Lissie and their long road to healing. Aubrey not only has to adjust to a new climate and school year, but to each holiday and even day-to-day events without her family.

What eases Aubrey’s grief the most are her emotionally charged letters, first to her sister’s imaginary friend, Sammy, and then to her absent family members. When she’s torn between moving back with her mother and staying with her grandmother, the letters allow her to work through the tense dilemma and to realize that home is not just a physical place but a refuge where comfort and caring reside.

Aubrey draws readers into her stirring plight with realistic concerns and a spot-on tween voice. The author’s precise word choice and even pacing leads middle-grade girls through every step of Aubrey’s heart-wrenching survival. They will indeed love Aubrey.

At the beginning of Any Which Wall, Laurel Snyder’s second middle-grade novel, four bored children while away the summer, wistful for the kind of magic that only happens in books. They’ve been reading Edward Eager, author of the 1954 uber-classic Half Magic, which also begins with bored children yearning for something, anything exciting to happen.

And those children—the kids in Half Magic—have been reading E. Nesbit, the mother of all adventure writers (The Railway Children, Five Children and It, etc.) and the model for Eager himself. Any Which Wall then, is the second degree of separation from Nesbit to Eager to Snyder, and the new book holds up well in such august company.

Magic is actually quite common, as we are told by the chatty, no-nonsense narrator who has not forgotten what it’s like to be a kid. “Common magic” is what can happen to characters lucky enough to be bored, be together, have excellent taste in literature and have parents too busy to interfere. Such as Emma, six years old; her brother Henry, a rising fifth grader; Henry’s best friend Roy; and Roy’s older sister Susan. Susan is charged with looking after the younger ones, but does not do a great job keeping anyone out of trouble. The trouble starts at the end of a path through an Iowa cornfield, where a bizarre, gigantic stone wall launches adventures accidental and on purpose. As in Half Magic, each kid gets a turn, and each kid discovers the power of words. “Be careful what you wish for” has never been such an apt caution: wordplay and syntactical imprecision make for unexpected (and funny) plot twists. Also look for the funky, retro-feel illustrations by LeUyen Phem: magical in their own right.

Perfectly timed for a summer release, Any Which Wall should handily alleviate boredom for young readers, and keep us all wishing for a sequel. Of course, the ultimate accolade would be a book written by someone in the next generation of children’s authors, and which begins with bored characters wistful for the kind of magic in Any Which Wall.

Joanna Brichetto still owns the copy of Half Magic she first read 34 years ago (price: 75 cents).

Mudshark, aka Lyle Williams, is a cool kid, the kind who doesn’t have to say he’s cool for the other kids to know it. It’s not only the way he dresses or the way he moves that makes Mudshark cool, but his uncanny ability to know just about everything that goes on at school.

“The cool thing about Mudshark was that he not only had information, he knew how to use it,” writes author Gary Paulsen, explaining why his classmates frequently turn to Mudshark for help in finding lost objects or explaining school mysteries. Before Paulsen comes to the end of his new classroom comedy, Mudshark, even the principal will seek out this resourceful 12-year-old for help. The principal, Mr. Wagner, wants to know why all the erasers in the school have disappeared. And the students want to know whether the librarian’s pet parrot is psychic. Luckily for them, the Mudshark Detective Agency is on the case.

Paulsen laces his tale with the kind of humor that’s sure to appeal to middle grade readers, including a couple of running gags about a free-range gerbil and problems in the faculty restroom. He also offers enough clues to keep the story’s central mystery moving along with growing suspense.

Mudshark himself is an admirable fellow, who’s not only cool at school, but willing to pitch in at home to care for his triplet sisters. This light, entertaining read should prove especially popular with those on the younger end of the book’s suggested 8-to-12-year-old age range.