MG/YA Book Reviews by a MG/YA Author
Table of Contents
Author News
MG/YA Book Reviews
In the Garden
Author News
Welcome to the April edition of Bookcase Bizarro!
I recently went to a book launch for one of my favourite authors, Michael Bedard. Michael hadn’t written anything for a while, so I was eager (in an unabashedly fannish sort of way) to find out more about his new book, The Winter Vault (review below).
As an author-publisher, the first thing I noticed was the book’s high production values, and the curious fact that two different publishers are listed on the copyright page: Gardenshore Press and Midtown Press. Gardenshore Press has a distinctly Bedardian stamp. Michael worked as a pressman at a small print shop named Gardenshore Press until 1981, and his daughter, Kirsten Bedard, designed the interior wire-walking motif. Could this book be self-published? I needed to know more.
I was fortunate enough to be able to talk to Michael at the launch, and his wife, Martha, later through email. First, I found out that Michael is an old hand at self-publishing. He printed his first two books himself: Woodsedge and Other Tales: A Gathering of Tales (1979), and Pipe and Pearls (1980). So he’s not a stranger to DIY tactics. When he couldn’t find a publisher for his new book, he and Martha reorganized their collective, Gardenshore Press, and prepared to put the book together themselves with help from an editor, a designer/typesetter, and a graphic artist. Armed with a professionally finished book, the Gardenshore collective contacted Midtown Press in Vancouver, whose owner agreed to co-publish it. Midtown then brought the book into the orbit of Orca Distributing, which acts as Midtown’s distributor.
Looking back, Martha admits that none of them had a clue about where their publishing experiment would end up. They focused on producing the book themselves and were delighted with the high-quality look and feel of the finished product. It was a smart move because in today’s publishing landscape, nobody has the money or time to whip less-than-professional manuscripts into shape. (Plus, most in-house editors have been downsized in favour of freelancers, so editor/writer mentorships are in short supply. See Gillian Turnbull’s article below for more details.) Gardenshore gave themselves an edge by doing the bulk of the work themselves, making it easier for Midtown to say yes.
It’s sobering indeed when even an award-winning, traditionally published author like Michael Bedard can’t find a new home for his work. Still, forming a collective to produce a book and present it as a professionally finished product to a publisher is an interesting hybrid approach between traditional and self-publishing. It sounds very much like the publication process outlined in Gillian Turnbull’s “First You Have to Make the Thing.” Lest we forget, the 1980s saw the creation of many small presses established by collectives of writers and artists whose work was not getting picked up by mainstream publishers. Gardenshore may be part of a resurgence of this self-publishing tradition.
“… that’s why we call it a journey,” said Martha. “Because we set out knowing what we wanted, but not knowing how to get there.”
This month, we walk between worlds with a twelve-year-old boy who’s negotiating the delicate balance between grief, a high-wire act on a stone wall, and a mysterious cemetery. So grab that balancing pole! We’re heading into the ether.
A quick note to new readers: books that are available from the Toronto Public Library will be marked #TPL, because books don’t have to be new or owned in order to be loved.
MG/YA Book Reviews
After his mother has a breakdown, twelve-year-old Peter goes to live with his grandparents, two people he barely knows. Nan and Pa are quietly caring, but Peter senses an unresolved sadness in the house. Unmoored from all that is familiar, he retreats into walking the stone wall that separates Nan and Pa’s property from the neighbouring cemetery. In his mind’s eye, he is no longer a twelve-year-old boy, but a death-defying tightrope walker, balancing the thrill of making it across the rope against the ever-present danger of falling.
During his walks, and from his bedroom window, he follows the exploits of the cemetery’s caretaker and a strange girl, who climbs over the wall every night and vanishes into the tombstones. When Peter encounters the girl on the streets of the town, his curiosity is piqued and he feels compelled to find out more. Soon, he finds himself walking a tightrope between the real world with its unspoken sadness and another world, which could soon overtake him.
In case it wasn’t obvious from above, I am a real fan of Michael Bedard’s work. I discovered his books in my early 20s and was spellbound by the scariness of his Caledon series (A Darker Magic, Painted Devil, Stained Glass, The Green Man). In the Caledon books and Bedard’s standalone novel, Redwork, I was captivated by a family than closely resembled my own: working parents, an awareness that money needs to be watched, and an expectation that older children take on a share of household chores, including shopping and childcare. Throughout all, a sly sense of humour, characters that are messy and act like real people, and prose that imbues everyday objects with a poetic immediacy that sings you into a different awareness of what the world is about. And the very real, overlooked, and hard-won kinship that can grow between two marginalized groups of people: elders and teenagers.
So when I learned that Michael Bedard was bringing a new book out, and a friend alerted me to the book launch, I did something I’ve never done before. I emailed his wife, the organizer of the event, to introduce myself and ask if I could come. To my surprise and delight, she said yes! The launch was fantastic, a true fan experience. And I came away with a question: how do we talk about and share books that don’t neatly fit into current publishing trends or categories? What if a book is spiritual? (I’m not talking about a specific religion here—more of a contemplative or meditative reading experience.)
The Winter Vault is such a book.
At 180 pages, it is a short read, but not a fast one. This is a reflective book, one that asks you to spend some time and take a second—and a third—look. It’s a character-driven narrative, with an atmosphere that is both specific and stark. Meals at Nan and Pa’s are hushed affairs. Peter’s tutor, Elvira, a young single mother who is estranged from her parents, is the only one who really talks to him. Nobody but Peter seems to notice the girl who sits on the street by day and climbs the cemetery wall every night. Unspoken miseries collect like dust on the stashed bottles of alcohol Peter finds in Nan and Pa’s house. Bedard paints a portrait of brokenness without the abuse, but with self-blame and an abiding inability to face pain that ensnares and paralyzes.
Twelve-year-old Peter is powerless against it. He does the only thing he can do: he retreats into a world of his own making, where he imagines an entirely different reality for himself. It is precisely this imaginative retreat that opens the story up. Or maybe pries it open, bit by bit, like a screwdriver wedged into the stuck edge of a garden door. The winter vault—a building in the cemetery where the dead were once stored over winter until they could be buried in the spring—functions as the perfect metaphor for the shut-in grief of Nan and Pa’s house, while the wall functions as a kind of limbo, a place suspended between worlds, where Peter soars. The stone wall beneath Peter’s feet becomes a piece of humming wire, and the ground below becomes a waterfall, a windy canyon, a storm raging between two towers of the Notre Dame Cathedral.
The imagined dangers of each walk awaken something in Peter. With his bird’s-eye view of the neighbouring cemetery, he can’t help but notice the comings and goings of the elderly caretaker as he goes about his work. Or the way that the cemetery seems to change with each passing day. During his lessons, he notices how cramped the apartment is for Elvira and baby Lizbet, whom Peter helps to soothe and feed. On his walks to and from lessons, he notices the girl he’s seen climbing over the cemetery wall. She’s sitting on a piece of flattened cardboard on the sidewalk. Peter begins skimming a few dollars off the money Nan sends to Elvira in order to buy her sandwiches and coffee. Instead of ratting him out, Elvira gives Peter a sweater to take to the girl. And one night when Peter is late getting home, a panicked Pa comes looking for him with a story spilling out of him. Peter can only walk on the tightrope for so long before he has to make a choice that will change everything.
The Winter Vault is a quietly spiritual book about brokenness and connection, how light can be spun and shared by people who are balanced between worlds. The prose is spare and detached when inside Peter’s POV, which can make it hard to get inside his character at times. On the other hand, it draws the details of the physical world into sharper focus. The Winter Vault is a meditative novel, one that does not rely on a fast-paced or traditional plot to make its point. And it’s a book without an easily recognizable target audience. Martha told me that Michael has never written for any age in particular; he writes what the book is. So, what audience is this book for?
If pressed, I would say it’s an upper middle grade/adult crossover book, something that an unusually introspective middle schooler might gravitate towards, but adults would likely make up a large part of the readership. (Martha confirms that half of Bedard’s readers are adults.) It’s an extremely accessible piece of literary fiction. Bedard’s prose has an immediacy that looks deceptively simple, but drills down into the heart of meaning. It’s also a piece of historical fiction, given that there are no cell phones or computers anywhere.
I would recommend this unique book for readers looking for a more reflective, contemplative reading experience. I would also highly recommend Bedard’s Stained Glass as a companion piece. Although The Winter Vault is not part of the Caledon series, both books are spiritual cousins. (#TPL)
In the Garden
This year marks my return to growing summer crops, such as squash, tomatoes, and peppers. Thanks to the irrigation system I installed last year, I no longer have to monitor my planters daily. I can go on vacation and be fairly confident that things will be fine upon my return. (And I’ve also got friends who are more than happy to harvest excess crops during my absence.)
Insects have been a real problem in the indoor garden this year. My homemade insecticidal soap was not working, so I finally broke down and bought the stronger Safer’s insecticidal soap. I don’t usually use insecticides, but you can’t let pesky thrips or aphids get the upper hand, and I’ve got both. (Lucky me.) I’ll be spraying once a week for three weeks to break the insects’ reproductive cycle, then only as needed.
I’ve experienced a bit of damping off with some new seedlings, but since adjusting my watering methods, others are making it through. I’ve been gardening for over 30 years, and the more I work with plants, the more I learn. (I hope it will stay that way forever.) Plants are living beings. Individual beings who respond to their environments in different ways. It takes a lot of care and patience—and many mistakes—to nurture a good relationship with them.
From L-R, T-B
Black Dragon coleus, Principe Borghese and Tiny Tim tomato seedlings, plus Sweet Alyssum seedlings, Red Russian kale, Ruby Red Swiss chard regenerating after cutting, four Black Dragon coleus seedlings, rescued hellebore plant.
Rogue Wizard: A Garrison Creek Prequel Novella
Wishing Shelf Book Award Finalist Author
As an illegal wizard at St. Anselm’s Training School for Orphans, Colin lives in constant fear of the Magistrates—the relentless wizard hunters scouring Garrison Creek for people like him. He needs a place to hide, and fast.
The school’s elite magi-tech squad offers the perfect camouflage.
But the competition is fierce and Colin’s magi-tech skills are … not great. Worse, he can’t always control his wizardry, and it leaves behind a telltale red residue that acts as a beacon for the authorities. With his arch rival, Viola Grundy, also vying for a spot on the squad, time is running out.
When a heated battle with Viola forces Colin to unleash his explosive wizard powers, the Magistrates come to inspect both students for signs of wizardry. Trapped between a rival who knows too much and the hunters who suspect him, Colin must rely on his wits alone to outsmart them all—or risk being drained of his powers and cast out of the Creek forever.
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Thanks for being a Bookcase Bizarro reader! I’ll be back next month with more author news, and more MG and YA book reviews. See you then!
#IMWAYR is a weekly blog hop hosted by Unleashing Readers and Teach Mentor Texts. Its focus is to share the love of KIDLIT and recommend KIDLIT books to readers of all ages.
Greg Pattridge also hosts weekly MG blog hop MMGM every Monday at his website, Always in the Middle.
