And then, boom!

Review by Booklist Review

Joe Oak is a sixth-grader with a love for superheroes and their "and then, boom" moments, when everything terrible can change in an instant. He also has a mess of a mom who takes off whenever she gets "The Itch," abandoning him for days, weeks, or months at a time. Luckily, Joe has an adoring grandmother, but another mom-related disaster leaves the Oaks penniless, and Joe and Grandmum lose their home. After a spell secretly living in their car, they gratefully find shelter in a local trailer park, but another calamity sees Joe left alone to fend for himself. Terrified of the foster system, a desperate Joe works to keep himself alive, his sanity intact, and his secret safe. But after a true "and then, boom" moment of his own, his life will change in a way he never imagined. As in her Starfish (2021), Fipps focuses on another young person on the fringe of their peer group, and the novel-in-verse narrative works beautifully here, invoking urgency and intimacy. Vivid descriptions of housing and food scarcity are intense and unforgettable, sure to spark empathy from any young reader. Though the story tackles heavy subjects, Joe is a wonderful companion, and there are also deep, dear relationships and an undercurrent of kindness that keeps hope afloat throughout. An exceptionally compassionate examination of existence on the edge.

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

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Review by Publisher's Weekly Review

Fipps (Starfish) depicts situations of abuse, financial precarity, houselessness, and hope through easy-to-read verse in this elucidating work. Eleven-year-old Joseph Oak loves superhero comics and his British-born Grandmum, whose "arms are like Captain America's shield,/ protecting me,/ defending me." In contrast, he views his mother as Thanos, "destroyer of worlds"; when she gets "The Itch" and leaves, consequences of her legal troubles result in Joe and Grandmum living in their car. Joe's pragmatic voice explains, "I think I know a lot of things/ kids shouldn't/ have/ to know" about how much his grandmother makes cleaning buildings and what their U.S. government--provided benefits cover (and don't). Things look up when they find an affordable mobile home, but then Grandmum starts feeling sick. Writing from personal experience, as discussed in a foreword, Fipps employs resonant verse to portray Joe's bleak reality as well as the bright spots he experiences due to the kindness of his best friends, who help him get food, and his teacher, who advocates for change in the school's free meal system and opens a food and clothing pantry for students in need. Joe is depicted as white on the cover; other characters cue as racially diverse. Ages 10--up. Agent: Liza Fleissig, Liza Royce Agency. (May)

(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved

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Review by Horn Book Review

Sixth grader Joseph Oaks claims he isn't a superhero (even if he did fly like Superman once): "I don't have any special powers -- unless / you count my ability to be invisible, / and to survive." Joe's mother gets what he calls "The Itch" and disappears for "days. / Weeks. / Months. / You never know when she'll take off / or when she'll come back." Thus, Joe "know[s] a lot of things / kids shouldn't / have / to know," including housing insecurity (Joe and Grandmum live in her car), poverty, and hunger. Things start to look up when they find "The Overripe Banana," a mobile home in King of the Castle Mobile Home Park. Once settled in, Joe considers his favorite possession, the quilt Grandmum made years ago: he understands that "Grandmum's the thread / holding her, Mom, and me, / separate pieces so different from each other, / together / as a family." Supporting characters, including Joe's teacher, his friends Nick and Hakeem, and the mobile home park's compassionate owner, are well drawn and vividly portrayed. As in Starfish (rev. 5/21), Fipps uses short lines, lots of white space, and an engaging first-person voice to carry the story. A fine example of how a novel in verse can be the perfect vehicle for getting inside the head of a character and creating empathy for what it's like to be him. Dean SchneiderMay/June 2024 p.137 (c) Copyright 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

How do you cope with the unexpected moments that change everything in your world? Until what he calls "the Mess with Mom," sixth grader Joseph Oak and his widowed English grandmother were doing okay. Between the house Grandmum owned, the money she made cleaning houses and offices, their food stamp benefits, and Joe's free school meals, they were getting by. But about a year ago, when Joe's mostly absent mother got arrested, Grandmum put the house up for bail money. (Joe knows nothing about his dad.) Then Mom fled, and "BOOM!"--they were living in their car: "I felt like we were goldfish in a fishbowl." Grandmum and Joe find an old mobile home to rent, but then, "BOOM!"--Grandmum dies, and Joe's left on his own. Fortunately, he has two best friends who always have his back: Nick, whose mother struggles with depression and who's been in foster care, and Francophile Hakeem, who pays for Joe's convenience store treats. The verse format, combined with Joe's comic book and superhero metaphors, works exceptionally well at conveying honest emotion while maintaining a sense of humor and hope. Fipps doesn't sugarcoat poverty, nor does she romanticize it or treat it as a moral failing; instead, she provides critical representation to the many schoolchildren who are living in poverty. Joe's courage and individuality shine on every page. Most main characters read white; Hakeem is cued African American. A big, bold, engaging, and important story. (Verse novel. 9-13) Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

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JUST LIKE SUPERMAN My name's Joseph Oak, and since an oak tree grows from an acorn nut, Grandmum calls me a little nut, and if Mom's around to hear it, she adds, I'm allergic to nuts. It isn't nice of Mom to say that, but she's not known for saying --­or doing--­ nice things. But I never thought she'd do what she did. I never thought a lot of things. Like I'd be on the news and the whole wide world would end up finding out about the moment I flew. Just like Superman. ORIGIN STORY I'm not a superhero. Straight up not. I mean, yeah, sure, I flew like Superman. Once. But I don't have any special powers--­unless you count my ability to be invisible, and to survive. I do have one thing in common with superheroes. I have an origin story. So does Grandmum, who's from England, Mom, who gets The Itch, my best friends, Hakeem and Nick, Uncle Frankie, who's not really my uncle, and my sixth-­grade teacher, Mrs. Swan. Each of us has an origin story, the story of how we became who we are. This is my story, and when you read it, I want you to remember something. When Superman summons every ounce of his strength to survive something others can't even imagine, he's the same person he was when he crumpled to his knees, left helpless by Kryptonite. He's the same person he was when he was Clark Kent, just living day by day, invisible to the world. Superman's the sum of all his moments. And so am I. WHY THE WORLD NEEDS COMIC BOOKS In comic books, superheroes use their powers to help others, defeat villains, and save themselves. Good triumphs over evil, giving you hope, something to believe in. Comic books remind you that even when horrible things happen, it can all work out in the end. AND-THENS AND BOOMS! Every story boils down to and-­thens and BOOMS! And-­thens and BOOMS! are all about the moments when something happens that changes everything. It could be bad. And it could be good, but it's often not. So always pay attention to and-­thens and BOOMS! SCRATCHING AN ITCH I'm only allergic to one thing. Poison ivy. I learned that the hard way one day when my basketball rolled into the woods. Leaves brushed across my face as I parted them like curtains to find the ball. When I woke up the next day, I looked like . . . well . . . Pretend you need to blow up a big balloon, and fill your cheeks full of air. Bigger. Bigger. Bigger. Now squint. That's what I looked like. But worse than how I looked was how I felt. An itch is the worst! You can't stop thinking about it, and the more you try not to, the more you do. Plus you just have to scratch it, but then an itch itches even more. It's almost impossible to live with an itch. PREPARE FOR TAKEOFF My grampy was a pilot, and my grandmum says you can always tell when a pilot's preparing for takeoff. They start ticking boxes on a checklist. And the list is always the same. Tick. Tick. Tick. Mom's like a pilot when she gets The Itch. That's what I call it when she gets restless and wants to take off. Her Itch Takeoff Checklist goes like this. Stares out windows. Sighs loudly a lot. Swings like a pendulum from sad to mean and back again. Tick. Tick. Tick. Mom leaves for days. Weeks. Months. You never know when she'll take off or when she'll come back. But you know takeoff's coming. Tick. Tick. Tick. MOM'S FIRST TAKEOFF The first time I remember Mom taking off was on a sweaty, sticky summer day. We lived in The Gingerbread House then, the color of graham crackers with a fancy white trim. It was old and didn't have air-­conditioning. Mom sighed as we sat on the porch swing, hoping for a cool breeze. She pumped her legs, and the swing creak-­creaked as we rocked. My legs stuck straight out, too little to dangle down. As soon as I spied yellow wings with black tiger stripes and a blue tail, I jumped down to chase the eastern tiger swallowtail, and Mom chased me. All I wanted was to hold the butterfly, but every time I got close to it, it took off. What on earth's wrong with you?! Who tries to trap a butterfly?! Mom yelled, picking me up, carrying me back to the porch, and plopping me down onto the swing. I flinched when the screen door banged as Mom went inside the house. She came back out with her purse slung over one shoulder and her keys jingling, jangling. Where you going? I go, too! I yelled, scooting off the swing. She didn't even look at me. She just went straight to her car and got in. Slam! Squeal! Vroom! Mom took off. I hopped onto my Big Wheel and pedaled down the sidewalk, trying to catch her, but my little legs just couldn't keep up. MAKE ME CHOOSE Mom wears a silk butterfly scarf all the time. She says she's a butterfly, and butterflies are free. You should be able to go wherever you want whenever you want. Fly away. Be free. But Grandmum would say, You're not a butterfly, Carli. You're a mom. You can't be both. Oh yeah? Mom would answer. Then make me choose and watch what happens. POP! When I was little, I had a jack-­in-­the-­box. Music played as I turned the handle, and I never knew exactly when it was coming, but I knew the door would open with a loud POP! And the clown would be right there. The longer I turned the handle, the more nervous I got, waiting for that pop. That's what it's like after Mom gets The Itch and takes off. I never know when she'll pop back into my life. The longer I wait for her, the more nervous I get that she won't ever return, and yet the more I fear her coming home. ONOMATOPOEIA Comic books are full of onomatopoeia. I can tell you a story about Mom and me using only onomatopoeia. Grrr! Slap! Ouch! Shhh! Onomatopoeias are words that sound just like what's actually happening. OODLES OF DOODLES I'm a doodler. I have a notebook full of doodles. Oodles of doodles. I doodle the infinity symbol a lot. It looks like the number eight on its side. When you draw it, the line loops and connects. So you end up not being able to tell where it all even started. But once it starts, it never ends. It goes on forever because it keeps repeating itself. ∞ Sometimes I don't even realize what's going on inside me till I start doodling and whatever was in me is out of me and right there on paper. I just doodled a circle that became a planet in a galaxy where grown-ups act like grown-ups and do what they're supposed to do, over and over again. The world where I want to live. Excerpted from And Then, Boom! by Lisa Fipps 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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