The BiblioFiles Presents: Sharon Creech

sharon creech bibliofilesJust posted! An in-depth interview with award-winning author Sharon Creech.

In a career that has spanned more than twenty years, Sharon Creech has produced distinctive works of literature for children and teens. Her books include Walk Two Moons, which won the Newbery Award in 1995  and inspired the companion novels Chasing Redbird and Bloomability. The Wanderer was a finalist for the Newbery Award in 2000, and Ruby Holler won the Carnegie Medal in 2002. Creech has also written books in verse, including Love That Dog, which was a finalist for the Carnegie Medal in 2001.

Powerful, emotional, humorous, gracious, sorrowful, scary, glorious, joyful, remarkable , playful, and heartfelt are words that describe the works of Sharon Creech. She excels at crafting stories that draw you in, make you think, make you feel, and make you a better person.

Her newest book, The Boy on the Porch, the story of John and Marta, a young couple who find an unusual young boy on their porch. The boy can’t speak but eventually begins to communicate through his musical and artistic talents. John and Marta form a powerful bond with the boy, one that truly defines what love, trust, acceptance, and family mean.

Ready to listen? Click here to go to the BiblioFiles interview!

The BiblioFiles Presents: Platte F. Clark

platte f clarkJust posted! An in-depth interview with Platte E. Clark, author of Bad Unicorn and its newly-released sequel, Fluff Dragon.

Max Spencer, middle school student, is about to have a very unusual day. It begins when he drags an old book from under his bed to use for a last-minute book report. Unbeknownst to Max, this book is the legendary Codex of Infinite Knowability, the most powerful book in three worlds, and Max is a descendent of Maximilian Sporazo, the book’s creator. Right now, however, Max is just hoping to avoid the school bully, Ricky “The Kracken” Reynolds, and hang out with Dirk, his hyperactive, game-obsessed best friend.

When Max unknowingly unleashes a spell from the Codex, he transports himself, Dirk, a girl named Sarah, and a disgruntled dwarf named Dwight into a future where humans are extinct and machines have taken over. It’s going to take more than Glenn, the Legendary Dagger of Motivation, to get them out of this mess. As if that isn’t bad enough, Max and his companions are being hunted by a unicorn. A bad unicorn. A nasty, petulant, human-eating unicorn. Princess the Destroyer has agreed to find Max and the Codex in exchange for an all-the-humans-you-can-eat rampage in Texas.

Bad Unicorn is irreverent, ironical, and completely hilarious. Clark composes an epic tale of good versus evil complete with nods to Dungeons & Dragons, computer games, malevolent sci-fi robots, zombies, and 80s arcade games. There’s even a dash of geek romance and an explanation of the true purpose of jackaolopes. Bad Unicorn has it all. The second book in the trilogy, Fluff Dragon, was released last month.

Ready to check it out? Follow this link to get to the BiblioFiles!

350 for 50

pen frameEvery year, our library has a writing content called 350 for 50. We challenge kids ages 6-16 to write a short, 350-word story that includes a sentence of our choosing. This year, the sentence was  “The image blurred, then darkened.” Our judges select winners from three age categories and not only do the young authors get published on our website, blog, and print publication, they enjoy a $50 shopping spree at Labyrinth, our local bookstore!

It is our great delight to present this year’s winners. The artwork for each piece was created by Princeton University student, Aliisa Lee.


Every Day is a Bad Hair Day

Lucy McCulloch, age 9
Bordentown, NJ

Bad Hair DayI am Meddie. I am in 5th grade at Blockwood Elementary School and I am considered a complete freak by most of the girls in my class. The same girls, who for the past six years have tormented me because I wear an enormous hat to school. If they only knew the truth hiding under my hat.

It all happened one day during a chaotic indoor recess. As usual, the room was divided into four corners containing the “bookworms”, “the artists”, “the fashionistas” and “the gamers”. I took my usual seat with the artists and began to draw cartoons.

From across the room I heard a loud commotion. I looked and saw a boy named Quincy stick out his tongue and make the “gag me with a spoon” action. I didn’t know what was going on, but I saw all eyes in the room turn and look at me. Quincy had a note in his hand. Before I could even ask what was going on, our teacher Ms. Birdfitch, swooped in a grabbed the note from his hand and read it out loud. “Dear Quincy, I love you.  Love, Meddie.” The whole class broke out into laughter. Ms. Birdfitch told everyone to get quite and take a seat.

The note was the last straw. I rushed out the door, and ran down the hallway. I slipped into the bathroom and stumbled to the cold tile floor. Those girls had done it again. But this time it wasn’t a silly name, it was a lie!

I got up to wash my face and looked in the mirror and that is when it happened. I looked at my reflection, but it didn’t look like me. The image blurred, then darkened. I felt my insides getting colder. I couldn’t hide my anger or true self any longer. I took off my hat and let my snakes coil around my head. Finally free from the hat, I walked unafraid back to class. I opened the door to horrified faces.  “Call me by my real name from now on.  I am MEDUSA!”


Memories

Neha Aluwalia, age 13
Plainsboro, NJ

MemoriesThey had been one of the last to escape. A few more weeks, and the ship would have been stopped-and the Jews would never have made it to America.  However, with luck on their side, the newly-wed couple Deborah and Joseph Rubenstein took a crowded, smelly ship to America, and wrapped their faith and hope around them like a warm blanket.

Upon arrival of New York City, things were not at all what they expected.  For one, they were detained at Ellis Island for many days, and the mixture of languages, smells, and sickness were very overwhelming to the lonely couple who understood little English.

When all the papers were finally set straight, Deborah and Joseph used what scant money they had, all their families’ life savings, to rent a room in a crowded apartment complex.

While Joseph went to work at the docks, Deborah stayed at home and began to befriend the neighbors. She became good friends with a man named Leroy Caldwell, a handsome and curious journalist. He was interested in what happened to the Rubensteins, of the events that brought them to America.

The two became so close that Leroy asked Deborah if he could interview Joseph and her about being Jews who escaped from Nazi Germany. After a plethora of conversations about a myriad of war-related topics, the article was almost ready to go.

The one thing that was missing however, was a photograph. Leroy arranged Deborah and Joseph together, pillars of hope in the darkness, and hit the button.  Flash! The camera spit out a photo.  The image blurred, then darkened.
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“Grandma? Grandpa?” asked the small child perched on her grandparents, squinting at an old photograph, “Is that you?”

Pointing to the young couple, indifferent to their poverty and content, the elderly woman replied, “Yes child. That was me and your grandfather, living out our families’ dreams. We only had each other, but we made the most of what we could.”

The child agreed to this statement by snuggling next to her grandmother and falling asleep, leaving Deborah, Joseph, and the memories together.


Therapy

Roshni Mantena, age 15
Princeton NJ

TherapyShe’d learned later, that its name was Ischemia. She was suffering from ischemic loss of vision, caused by a blockage of the artery supplying blood to the eye. It was the most common reason for sudden visual loss, and left untreated even for a few hours, it could leave permanent damage. The last fact, she knew too well. At first, she’d blamed her parents. If they’d returned home, even an hour earlier. Then, it’d been her grandfather. Genetically inherited, artery blocking cholesterol. Finally, it’d been God. You sent this my way. Her bitterness had consumed her, pushing away her friends,  family, boyfriend. She walked in the school hallway alone, whispers of that blind girl trailing behind her, but she wore them proudly like armor, deflecting whoever attempted to get close. It’d gotten old fast, the loneliness tearing holes deep in her heart, leading her here.

It’d been half past eight and her parents still hadn’t returned home from their dinner party. The summer sky had long since faded into hot, sticky, darkness, and her clothes clung uncomfortably to her skin. She was too lazy to change into pajamas, the horror movie flickering on the TV screen in front of her just interesting enough to keep her from leaving her comfortable place on the couch. The air shimmered, the image from television slightly distorted, from the heat, she told herself. Another minute passed, the beginnings of a headache pounding at her temples. She rubbed her head; dark spots appeared in front of her eyes, the characters onscreen swimming in her vision. The image blurred, then darkened. She could still feel her heart drumming loudly in her ribcage as she screwed her eyes together, squeezing them shut tightly before opening them again. Panic in the form of bile was rising in her throat as she rubbed at them frantically, trying to coax them back from the nothing-ness to no avail. She scrambled blindly for the phone, hands shaking.

She inhaled sharply, running fingers over the raised bumps, feeling out the words. Palm flat, pride swallowed, she pushed the door open into therapy.