“Action, mommy. A really good book has lots of action.”

If you are looking for books that the boy in your life will look forward to reading, take it from my seven year old.  They love action.

The Percy Jackson and the Olympians series by Rick Riordan delivers exactly that.  Beginning with The Lighning Thief  and ending with The Last Olympian, even a fairly reluctant reader will be hard-pressed to put the books down.  Not only do they move along briskly, with plenty of the aforementioned action, but there is quite a bit of humor, topped off with a nice dusting of Greek mythology.  I should know,  because I read all of them before my son did.

For, uh, research purposes, of course.

The books follow demigod Percy Jackson through five years of living out a prophecy foretold by the Oracle of Delphi.  Who happens to be a mummy in an attic at the demigod summer camp.  Percy must battle gods and monsters in order to save Mount Olympus, which is located at the top of the Empire State Building. Natch. Throw in some centaurs, labyrinths, Mist, and capricious Greek gods, and tell me how you can possibly resist.

I highly recommend the books for that certain someone who is bound to be whining about being half-dead from boredom in about two weeks from now.

*I bought all of these myself at Target.  No freebies here. Now normally I don’t buy my books at Target, but I have a seven month old, so you’ve got to cut me some slack.

Now, if you are not closely related to a young-ish boy or girl, you probably have no idea what I’m talking about.

And that’s OK.

Captain Underpants is the hero of a series of chapter books by Dav Pilkey, and they happen to be the perfect “gateway books.” They have a great chance at turning your reluctant reader into someone who actually turns off the television to go and read.

Yes, you read that right.  My son has done exactly that.

The Munchkin, who is an excellent reader, had yet to discover the joys of reading a book to oneself, rather than enjoying them only with someone else.  Oh sure, he would read a book or two at the school library because he was bored and had nothing better to do, it wasn’t entirely voluntary.  Reading a story with someone at bedtime was a must, but for some reason, he didn’t want to read alone.

But once we got our hands on these babies, he has begun the wonderful process of  reading a book not just because he is bored, but because it is a fun thing to do.

Is there questionable potty humor in these books?

Yes.

Will your young one’s vocabulary suddenly begin to include potty humor words?

Well, yes, but they were already using them, just not so much around you.

So in exchange for a few week’s worth of hearing “doo-doo” and “underpants,” I now have someone who has branched out to reading many of the other books that have been patiently waiting for him in his personal library.

I’ll take it.

*I received no payment or free product for this review.  I spent my own damn money, and it was well worth it.

I’ve compiled a list of some of the best Halloween books for the whole family to read together!

Mommy? I’ve already touted the pop-up version of this book by Maurice Sendak, so of course I heartily recommend the regular version as well. A little boy searches through a creepy mansion in search of his mom, and even though the monsters he encounters try to scare him, he quickly shows them who is boss. And on the last page, Mommy!

Leonardo, the Terrible Monster Leonardo is a monster whose misfortune it is to be not all that scary. When he decides to find the easiest kid to scare and attempts to give it all he’s got, the kid starts to cry. But, it isn’t because of Leonardo.

Pumpkin Circle: The Story of a Garden This non-fiction book tells all about the development of a pumpkin seed into a plant, then a pumpkin, carving it into a jack-o-lantern, and then back to seed again, completing the circle. This is a great book to teach your kids about that ol’ “circle of life” thing and the color photographs are stunning. The text is sort of meh, but I think it affects adults much more than the kids.

The Little Old Lady Who Was Not Afraid of Anything Beautiful illustrations help tell the story of a woman who finds a clever way to deal with the things that are trying to scare her. A just-scary-enough book.

Big Pumpkin A green-faced witch grows a pumpkin to bake into a pie for Halloween. But the pumpkin is too big! She needs help, and she gets it from various passersby, including a ghost, vampire, mummy, and little bat. A very cute story!

Room on the Broom When a friendly witch loses her hat, she manages to pick up a lot of friends on her way to look for it! With lessons of friendship and cooperation, this modern folktale is sure to be a big hit.

Scary, Scary Halloween This book is certainly designed to give children a a bit of a scare, but in a good way! The unseen narrator (a mother cat) describes all the spooky things she sees, which just happen to be children in Halloween costumes. With some great verse and wonderful illustrations, kids of all ages will love this book.

The Night Before Halloween What do monsters and mummies do before Halloween? Using lighthearted verse inspired by “Twas the Night Before Christmas” we find out what they do to prepare for the big day when the kids will be knocking at their door.

Scratch and Sniff: Halloween There aren’t a whole lot of scratch and sniff books anymore, but kids sure do love them. There is a vile (not really!) witch’s brew, a lollipop, pumpkins, bats and ghosts featured in all their olfactory goodness. Uh, well, maybe it doesn’t really smell like a bat, but that’s probably a good thing!

The Ghost’s Dinner Read as Henry the Ghost fixes dinner for his friends, and watch as they turn the color of each dish! But then, they mysteriously disappear after dessert, and Henry must save the day.

Ghosts in the House! This visually stunning book is an unorthodox tale of a young witch who goes to live in a house. Except one thing, there is a ghost already there! But never fear, the clever witch has a plan.

Is it wrong to admit I’ve never read any of the Twilight books?

But listen, even if I had, and even if I loved them to absolute bits and had dreams every night about Edward, I would NEVER put something like this in my room, much less that of my tween.

Oh yeah, some creepy lifesize cutout, complete with hair spikes no less, of a dude on my wall would in no way make me feel safe. Yikes, quite the opposite.

Perhaps at one point I would have put some life-sized cutouts of Duran Duran on my walls, but at least they weren’t vampires.

This article in the New York Times both encourages me and scares me at the same time.

It is about some experimentation going on in certain classrooms regarding how classic literature is taught.  Or in some cases, not taught.

There is a budding trend in certain educational circles that advocates students being able to pick their own works of literature to study instead of adhering to a prescribed list of stories.

On one hand, I agree with the thinking that allowing students to choose the literature that interests them most is more helpful in promoting reading as a whole.  It stands to reason that if you like what you are reading, you will continue to read and not consider it some sort of punishment.  Writing about it and exploring its themes are more enjoyable because of the connection to the story.

On the other hand, according to the article, that means studying the, uh, literary merits of “Captain Underpants.”

My fear is that not many kids will be willing to pick truly challenging literature, instead going for the easy route.  Because yeah, teens are so well known for wanting to do more work.  Right?

I think there is a lot to be said for studying classic literature because it is usually considered classic for a reason.  Usually the works involve universal themes that appeal to a broad section of people.  Don’t get me wrong, not all classics resonate with everyone.  I, for instance, hated James Joyce’s Ulysses with every fiber of my being.  But a masterwork is a masterwork, and there is something to be learned from all of them.  Yes, even Ulysses.

What I think would work best would be a compromise wherein the class could choose from an approved list, rather than venturing into the dubious territory that constitutes “Captain Underpants“.

Class Clown Life in Mr. Hockaday’s third grade class is never boring, especially thanks to the antics of Lucas Cott.

I Am Too Absolutely Small for School Lola thinks she is too small for school, but her brother Charlie comes up with all sorts of funny reasons why she should go. Charlie finally comes up with a reason that Lola can’t refute with her own brand of logic.

The Teacher from the Black Lagoon A boy’s worst fears about his first day of school.

The Night Before Kindergarten Set to rhymes like The Night Before Christmas, this book deals with the excitement and apprehension of the first day of school, with a twist!

Arthur’s Teacher Trouble Arthur thinks his teacher is too hard, giving them homework on the first day of school! But eventually Arthur is pleasantly surprised to learn that hard work is rewarded.

Never Spit On Your Shoes Arnie is tired. He’s just finished his first day of first grade, and boy does he have some stories to tell his mom.

The Best School Year Ever The Herdmans are back! They manage to kidnap a baby, rescue a kid’s head from a bike rack, and wash their cat (amongst other things!) in this hilarious book.

Back to School with Betsy At the start of third grade, Betsy is disappointed because her favorite teacher won’t be teaching anymore. But, things turn out much better than she ever expected.

Curious George’s First Day of School George is the best monkey to help Mrs. Apple on the first day of school. Until he gets into trouble, of course!

Time for School, Mouse! From the author of If You Give a Mouse a Cookie, this book has Mouse hunting for his homework.

Starting School with an Enemy Fifth grader Sarah’s first days of school aren’t going all that well. Did we mention that her family has just moved to Maryland, where she hates it?

*crickets*

Exactly.

Where was I? Well might you ask, even though you were too shy to ask and I had to do it myself (do I have to do everything myself? Right, I’m single. I do. NOW I understand why women get husbands. Wow, the things ya larn in a common blog post parenthetical (although whether parenthetical is a noun or an adjective is not, apparently, one of those things, just FYI)).

I was in the second row of the floor seating to watch the Lipizzaner Stallions travelling show, which is one of the better places on Earth for a horse nut to be except for the front row of the floor seating to watch the Lipizzaner Stallions, especially when Front Row has a great big honkin’ cowboy hat in it obscuring the airs above the ground. Dude, I don’t care if you’re Kenny Chesney, the whole world can tell you’re Bruce Willis bald anyway, and you’re lucky I didn’t have anything more offensive in my handbag than a paperback of Pistol Packin’ Madams: True Stories of Notorious Women of the Old West . Although now that I think of it, I could easily have split your thick skull with it, as it is a weighty tome.

We moved to some empty front-row seats and all was well. Since it was my birthday and all, which is why I had the ticket in the first place, I felt somewhat licensed to squeee; indeed, I felt it a sacred duty to do so, in homage to Elizabeth Taylor in National Velvet, that girl in Hidalgo who almost ended up with Viggo, “The Daughter of Sheikh Maktoum al Maktoum” (you’re not allowed to use her personal name, apparently, but she was one of the winningest jockeys in the Middle East, no lie) and all those other horse-crazed girls throughout history (one wonders if they were all so fond of horses when they had to ride sidesaddle…but I digress…). I was, however, too Canadian (in the end, and everywhere else as far as I know) to squeee.

I need not feel ashamed, nor unloyal neither, as an entire stadium of presumably favorably-disposed-towards-the-pretty-horsies people sqeeed not, not one among them, not once. It was no Jonas Brothers Concert, despite the superior beauty of the performers.

Which is really just a very long-winded way of getting to the point that the rather surprising gender balance was as follows:

Horses: 100% stallions. And one of them took the opportunity to prove it, too, but that’s enough of THAT kind of talk.

Riders: Head rider male, subordinate riders female. T’was ever thus, since that double-agent Percheron assassinated Catherine the Great.

Audience: 55% male/45% female.

That’s right. Predominately male, and I’m not just saying that because I will NEVER AS LONG AS I LIVE FORGIVE FRONT-ROW HAT-WEARING DUDE. Is the horse-loving tween girl an endangered species? Most of the females in that audience, my friend and myself aside, were what is colloquially known as “popcorn heads” ie old enough to buy their own perms since shortly after they were invented.

Où sont les cavaliers d’antan? Margeurite Henry, we hardly knew ye!

Tim Burton has to be the ultimate Cool Dad. Sure, he doesn’t play football, but you know when you get Guitar Hero for your birthday he’s the one calling his buddies to come and play with you, and they turn out to be, like, Eddie Van Halen and Brian Eno and some cool zombie dude called Keef or something. And when it’s Halloween, you already have all the costumes, right there in your day-to-day wardrobe.

Now let’s walk straight up to that demented wardrobe, the one that probably has Narnia hidden at the back, and go right through the mirror on the front to see what Burton’s cooked up for his “Alice returns to her roots” nightmare of twisted beauty. Definitely not Disney.

Alice is in her cups

We're not in Kansas anymore. Nor Derbyshire either

But never mind that, look what they’ve done to everyone’s favorite celebrity dad:

Johnny Depp IS mad as a hatter

I freely admit, I don’t get the Twilight phenomenon; but then, I’m not a 15-year-old girl, neither between the ears nor (sadly) anywhere else. It comes with entire clothing collections and no doubt enough broody posters to cover the surface of the Sun (thus solving that pesky turning into dust thing). But among the Undeadnoscenti, there will be great rejoicing at the news that the Undeadverse will be gifted with it’s very own version of Barbie and Ken: the Bella and Edward dolls.

Please, please, if your teenage daughter or your inner teenage self insists, buy these dolls if you must (we’re nothing if not servicey: Bella is here, and Edward is here, and they’re each over $150) , but PROMISE ol’ raincoaster here you’ll throw in a copy of one of Chelsea Quinn Yarbro Count Saint-Germain books for when she grows up and needs a REAL woman’s vampire. You can thank me later.

And you will. You will.

Unfortunately, they are coming for your library privileges.

Seven year old Dominick Philip took part in a promotional photo session for the local newspaper, promoting the Nazareth Library, where he is known to be something of a regular. Sadly, it turns out that Dominick is an illegal alien intellect, hailing from nearby Tatamy, presumably home of wisdom-thieving Inkbacks who come over the county line in the dark of night, seeking to steal the 2 weeks of My Friend Flicka and The Hardy Boys which should rightfully belong only to those of Nazarene residency and status. When the heinous rights-theft was discovered, his library card was naturally revoked!

A library employee checked Dominick’s address after seeing his photo in the paper, then called and left a message on the family’s answering machine with the news, Melissa Philip says.

“As a parent, it just makes you upset,” she says, noting that it’s outrageous someone took time to research her son. “It’s a little over the top.”

What would Jesus borrow?