The third mushroom

Review by New York Times Review

FOR PARENTS who struggle to keep their kids in books, sequels are a blessing. If kids like the first book, it's almost a guarantee they will like the next, and the next, and so on. Many an author who has delighted children once can successfully spin out characters and plots into new iterations, even if they never anticipated creating a series. Surprisingly to us jaded adults, the quality of these sequels doesn't necessarily drop off a cliff. These four new books for middlegrade readers all reprise characters and settings from previous favorites. JENNIFER L. HOLM, who traverses many genres from graphic novels to historical fiction and has been awarded three Newbery Honors, has followed up her 2014 best seller "The Fourteenth Goldfish" with the THIRD MUSHROOM (Random House, 217 pp., $16.99; ages 8 to 12). In the first book, the middle schooler Elbe Cruz is living an unexceptional life when her mom is summoned by the police and returns home with a 13-year-old boy who is actually Elbe's grandfather, Melvin Sagarsky, a retired scientist made young again through the cellular regeneration properties of a rare jellyfish. Forced to attend middle school with Elbe, Melvin enlists her and her friend Raj in a plot to patent the reverse-aging process. "The Fourteenth Goldfish" was an appealing mix of true-tolife and plain bizarre - and now, one year later, "The Third Mushroom" finds Elbe in seventh grade and needing a partner in the county science fair. Naturally, she teams up with Melvin - who may be her grandfather but is now hitting puberty, so he eats a ton, sleeps late and needs braces. The premise is barely explained in the sequel, so it helps to have read "The Fourteenth Goldfish," but Melvin's transformation is just as amusing. Elbe and Melvin's project on fruit flies goes awry when Melvin starts experimenting on himself. Their discovery winds up reversing the anti-aging process. They don't win the prize, but Elbe gets her real grandfather back. "He seems lighter," she observes. As for Melvin, he says with a shrug: "To be honest, I wasn't looking forward to having to take the SATs again." Holm's still-witty sequel adds a touching element of loss in the back story of the death of Elbe's grandmother, whom Melvin's scientific genius could not save. TIM FEDERLE, who co-wrote the musical "Ttick Everlasting" and the movie "Ferdinand," knows the territory of being a misunderstood theater kid. As a teenager, he escaped his hometown to come to New York City to pursue a Broadway career. His novel "Better Nate Than Ever" told the story of Nate Foster, an eighth grader who steals his mom's A.T.M. card and his brother's fake ID and boards a bus to try out for a Broadway musical version of "E.T." Next came "Five, Six, Seven, Nate!," in which Nate lands an ensemble role, moves to New York and prepares for opening night. Now the series comes to an end with nate EXPECTATIONS (Simon & Schuster, 256 pp., $17.99; ages io to 14), which tackles what happens after your dream comes true: The show closes after bad reviews. As with his earlier books, Federle skillfully pivots between the comedic commentary and the moving introspection of a boy trying to find his place in a homophobic world. After experiencing the freedom to be himself - as web as a secret romance with a castmate - Nate Foster has to go back to Jankburg, Pa., "a town that somehow both never knew my name but also hated everything about me." To make things worse, the high school auditorium is being torn down to build a lacrosse field. Undeterred in his love of the theater, Nate sets out to stage a musical production of "Great Expectations" in the gym, and instead of getting ostracized, he gains fans among students and administrators alike. "Some days you're a freshman in high school, and though the world is a bubble of suck, inside the bubble you've made something rare and beautiful," Nate observes. Readers will feel reassured that Nate will survive high school and go on to pursue his passion with confidence. "ZORA WAS BOLD and honest like a bumblebee asking to nectar on springtime flowers, and loud and fearless like a bobcat," says 12-year-old Carrie Brown, the narrator of the beautifully written zora and me: THE CURSED GROUND (Candlewick, 250 pp., $16.99; ages 10 and up), by T. R. Simon. In this second book in a promised series that imagines the life of the young Zora Neale Hurston, Zora and her friend Carrie solve a murder in their town of Eatonville, Fla., in the early 1900s. Although Eatonville is the first black incorporated town in America, Zora and Carrie are hardly shielded from the racial violence of the post-Reconstruction era. In "Zora and Me: The Cursed Ground," the two girls learn about the enslaved history of some of their town's inhabitants and the ongoing legacy of that bloody bondage. When Zora and Carrie stumble upon an old slave plantation house in 1903, they can hardly imagine a world where people are treated like property. But then two white men ride into town claiming that the land should never have been incorporated into Eatonville. Zora's father, who is Eatonville's mayor, is forced to take a stance. "The past is coming for us, isn't it?" her mother asks. "White men with lynching ropes will hang us from trees here as easily as they did in Alabama. We were foolish to think that there could ever be a safe place, that we could ever get away." The land in question holds a dark secret, one told in flashbacks from a healer named Old Lady Bronson that slowly connect the past with the present. The flashbacks vividly depict Old Lady Bronson's life as a young girl when she was taken from Hispaniola to Florida to work on the plantation. The connection between slave times and Zora and Carrie's world unravels slowly and with well-crafted suspense and a horrifying surprise twist. "History wasn't just something you read in a book," Carrie observes. "It was everything your life stood on. We who thought we were free from the past were still living it out " MIDDLE-GRADE FICTION has seen no shortage of books in the Harry Potter/Percy Jackson mold - stories of outsiders whisked off to parallel worlds where they discover their special power, receive their education and face trials to determine if they will use their potential for good or evil. These story lines often follow Joseph Campbell's "Hero's Journey" and provide an ample runway for a blockbuster series. Jessica Townsend's best-selling "Nevermoor" set the stage for such a breakout by introducing 12-year-old Morrigan Crow, who is hated and feared even by her own family until she is plucked for membership into the elite Wundrous Society, where those with special talents collaborate to protect the land of Nevermoor against evil elements. Townsend's sequel, wundersmith: The Calling of Morrigan Crow (Little, Brown, 337 pp., $17.99; ages 8 to 12), follows her heroine through her first year of training. It's filled with creative details of a school unlike any other (classes in speaking to dragons; half-human, half-tortoise teachers who can slow time). But unlike J. K. Rowling and Rick Riordan, Townsend has created a completely fantastical realm, so it lacks the playful tension between the real and the make-believe (such as taking the Long Island Expressway to Camp Halfblood in Riordan's books). As pure fantasy, it also requires more back story, and "Wundersmith" gets bogged down in places by recapping what happened in "Nevermoor." But Townsend's skillful, suspense-filled storytelling in "Wundersmith" will keep readers entertained, as Morrigan and her eccentric classmates face a test of loyalty and bravery in what will surely be the first of many to come. After all, Morrigan's got five more years of school ahead of her. RUTH DAVIS KÖNIGSBERG, the author of "The Truth About Grief," is working on a master's degree in library science.

Copyright (c) The New York Times Company [July 11, 2019]

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Review by Booklist Review

In Holm's The Thirteenth Goldfish (2014), Elle's grandfather Melvin, a 76-year-old widowed scientist trapped in the body of a teenage boy after discovering a substance with antiaging properties, came to live with his daughter and granddaughter. More than a year after those events, seventh-grader Elle now cajoles her cousin Melvin into helping her conduct a science experiment for extra credit. Their project, which involves fruit flies and a mutant salamander, seems promising as a way of helping animals to regenerate lost body parts, but it has unintended consequences as well. Meanwhile, Elle navigates the awkwardness of her first date, and her grandpa/cousin Melvin deals with unsettling changes of his own. Always entertaining and often amusing, Elle's first-person narrative offers fresh perspectives on the strength of middle-school friendships and family ties, as well as the pain of losing a beloved pet. A STEM thread runs throughout the book, in references to famous scientists, while an appended section profiles several of them and recommends related books. Lively, funny, and thought-provoking, here's a must-read sequel to a memorable chapter book.--Phelan, Carolyn Copyright 2010 Booklist

From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.

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Review by Publisher's Weekly Review

In this follow-up to The Fourteenth Goldfish, seventh grader Ellie continues to experiment-socially and scientifically-in middle school. She unsuccessfully tests the dating waters with best friend Raj, a goth boy with blue-streaked hair, and rekindles a friendship with pal Brianna. Not unexpectedly, Ellie's cantankerous but lovable scientist grandfather, Melvin, resurfaces-just in time for the county science fair (he's a 77-year-old with dual PhDs living in a 14-year-old's body after he reversed his aging process). Together, grandfather and granddaughter confront the limits of medical science, and a catastrophic pet accident sparks one of many discussions about the questions that scientific advances raise. Ellie learns that discovery, like overcoming her initial distaste for mushrooms on the third try, involves trials, observation, and risk. Holm delivers another thoughtful, gently humorous story. STEM-friendly back matter profiles the famous scientists that Ellie and Melvin discuss. Ages 8-12. (Sept.) © Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.

(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved

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Review by Horn Book Review

This zany sequel to The Fourteenth Goldfish finds Grandpa Melvin still stuck in the body of a teenager while trying to help Ellie with a science-fair project that could help change him back. Narrator Pernas high-pitched voice makes seventh grader Ellie seem younger than her age, and the pauses she makes preceding attributives (such as she said) make them more noticeable than necessary. More convincing is Pernas portrayal of the grumpy Melvin, who never takes responsibility for anything and makes no apologies to anyone. An entertaining (if imperfect) audio rendition of a compelling sequel. michelle h. martin March/April 2019 p 108(c) Copyright 2019. The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

(c) Copyright The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

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Review by Kirkus Book Review

Some experiments don't work out as expected.In a satisfying sequel to The Fourteenth Goldfish (2014), seventh-grader Ellie chronicles a tentative attempt at romance, a science fair experiment with her grandfather (still in the body of a 14-year-old boy), and a new appreciation for mushrooms, a once-loathed food. She and Raj, current best friend and lunch partner, have an unsuccessful movie date. A new relationship status is not in the cards, but the unexpected consequences include the rekindling of an old friendship with Briannasomeone with shared memoriesand a renewed understanding of Raj's important role as best friend. Short, readable chapters are filled with lively dialogue and gentle humor. In her first-person, present-tense narrative, Ellie describes Raj as "goth:" "he's got piercings and is dressed entirely in black.Even his thick hair is blackexcept for the long blue streak in front." Ellie's lack of race consciousness makes her presumably white. Her divorced parents and stepfather are shadows in this account, which focuses on her strong connection with her grandfather, who's growing and changing as well. Most unexpected in this lightly fantastic story is a tender account of the death of a beloved pet. An ongoing STEM connection is reinforced with a backmatter "gallery" of information and suggestions for further reading about the scientists mentioned.An appealing middle school friendship story that won't disappoint the author's many fans. (Fiction. 9-14) Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

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Mushroom War           Maybe it's because I'm an only child, but my parents have always been a little obsessed with my eating. They insist that I try everything on my plate. That I eat what they eat. No chicken tenders off the kids' menu for me. If they have calamari or chicken livers, that's what I have to eat, too.   And the truth is: I'm a pretty good eater. Growing up in the Bay Area, you get to try a lot of different kinds of cuisine. I've had Indian, Burmese, Mexican, Chinese, Peruvian, Vietnamese, you name it. I even like the raw-fish kind of sushi.   My parents agree that I've never been really picky except when it comes to one thing.   Mushrooms.   The first time I tried a mushroom I was in kindergarten. My parents are divorced, but they've always stayed good friends, and we have family dinner once a week.   We were at a favorite Italian restaurant and my mother had ordered a pasta dish for the table--ravioli. I loved pasta of all kinds, so I was happy.   Then I took a bite.   To my horror, instead of creamy cheese being in the cute pasta pocket, there were weird brown chunks. It tasted awful. Like dirt.   "What is this?" I asked my mom.   "Mushroom ravioli. Don't you like it?"   I shook my head. I definitely did not like it.   My parents seemed a little disappointed.   The second time I tried a mushroom, it was at a Chinese restaurant. We'd gone to see a play and it was late and I was really hungry. My parents talked me into ordering a chicken-and-mushroom dish.   Try new things, they told me.   But this time the mushroom had a horrible texture: rubbery and slimy. What was the deal with mushrooms, anyway? Why were they so gross?   I didn't starve (I ate the plain rice and fortune cookies), but I was annoyed. At the mushrooms. And at myself for trying them again.   Then and there I resolved never to eat a mushroom again.   That's when the Mushroom War started.   Because my parents took it as a personal challenge that I didn't like mushrooms. They started putting them in everything. They put mushrooms in stir-fry and lasagna and salad. I guess they figured I'd cave and eat them.   But there was no way I was making that mistake again.   Eventually, my parents gave up and I won the Mushroom War. They moved on to brussels sprouts, which didn't deserve such a bad rap, in my opinion.   As the years went by, they would occasionally serve me something with mushrooms. And every single time, I picked them out and left them in a neat pile on the side of my plate.   At least no one could say I didn't have good table manners.           2           Criminal           My mom and I like to watch courtroom dramas on TV. She says they're great character studies. She loves the scenes with lawyers arguing, especially when they shout "Objection!" My mom's a high school theater teacher, so she's a fan of anything dramatic.   While the lawyers are interesting, my heart's been with the criminals lately. Because I know just how they feel. Middle school is like jail: the food is terrible, you're forced to exercise, and it's the same boring routine every day. Mostly it's the buildings that make you feel like a prisoner. There's no color, no style, and everything smells like dirty socks.   The only exceptions are the science classrooms. They redid the labs over the summer, and now they look like the Hollywood version of a high-tech lab. But my science teacher, Mr. Ham, doesn't look anything like a Hollywood scientist. He's young and likes to wear loud, silly ties instead of a lab coat. This is the second year in a row I've had him, because he moved up a grade.   "We'll be hosting the county science fair this spring," he announces. "I'd encourage you all to enter. You'll earn extra credit. It's also fine if you want to buddy up with another student and enter as a team."   Even though I've already got a good grade in class, I'm tempted because of my grandfather. I know he'd want me to enter: he's a scientist.   I haven't seen my grandpa Melvin in over a year. He's been traveling across the country, visiting places by bus, on an extended vacation. I miss everything about him. His old-man fashion style of wearing black socks. How he always orders moo goo gai pan at Chinese restaurants and steals the packets of soy sauce. Most of all, I miss talking to him. He's bossy and opinionated and thinks he's smarter than everyone else because he has two PhDs.   And maybe he is.           When the last bell of the day rings, everyone rushes out of the classrooms like criminals being released.   I spot Raj waiting for me by my locker; he's hard to miss. He's tall and lean and towers over most other kids. But that's not the only reason he stands out. Raj has the whole goth thing going on: he's got piercings and is dressed entirely in black, right down to his weathered Doc Martens. Even his thick hair is black. Well, except for the long blue streak in the front. It's striking and makes him look like a wizard.   "Hey," I say.   "So, you decided not to go for it, huh?" he asks, studying my hair.   It was my idea in the first place. I wanted a change of some kind. To maybe stand out. Look a little different. My hair is pretty boring, so I thought I would dye it. My mom was all for it. She's always dyeing her hair crazy colors and makes it look easy.   Still, I was nervous. It seemed like a big step.   Raj suggested I just get a streak in my hair. He said he'd do it, too. A buddy thing.   We endlessly debated colors. He liked the idea of red. I liked pink. We were both against green (it only looks good on leprechauns). Finally, we settled on blue.   But when I went to the hair salon this past weekend to get mine done, I panicked. What if it was a mistake? What if I looked terrible with a blue streak? Like a blue skunk?   In the end, I got my hair cut same as always (one inch) and no streak.   "I couldn't do it," I admit.   "That's okay," he says.   "You're not mad?"   "Of course not."   I feel better immediately. Raj wouldn't lie.   Because he's my best friend. I know his locker combination and he knows mine.   We didn't start out being best friends. But over the last year, it just kind of happened. My mom says having a best friend is like learning to speak a foreign language. You stumble around for the right words, and then one day it clicks and you understand everything.   "I've got a chess meet next week," Raj says. "I was wondering if you wanted to come? It's here at the school."   "Sure!" I say. I've never been to a chess match before.   He smiles. "Great. Well, I gotta roll. Chess club. Catch ya later."   "Bye," I say.   I watch as he disappears into the crowd. Excerpted from The Third Mushroom by Jennifer L. Holm All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.

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