Waiting for Normal

"I had two boxes of mac and cheese, almost half a box of Cheerios, a sleeve of saltine crackers, a bag of egg noodles and a box of brownie mix. In the can department, I had two tomato soups, one fruit cocktail, and one cheapy tuna -- the squishy, cat food kind. There were two eggs in the fridge, along with four carrots, half a quart of milk and almost half a jar of peanut butter. There were three hamburger buns in the freezer. It didn't look like much but I had things figured out. Each box of mac and cheese would make two meals. Each can of tomato soup was ten and three quarters ounces of pure possibility. I could mix it with the cooked egg noodles and cat tuna. I could pour it over a toasted hamburger bun. Or, I could just make soup like the label on the can said. But whatever I did, I had to be careful about the groceries. Mommers had been gone for six nights in a row." There is something seriously wrong with the mother of sixth-grader Addie Schmeeter. Addie's mother is way, way up or way, way down, seriously all here or seriously all gone. She either ignores the grocery situation for weeks on end or suddenly begins shopping (and cooking) for an army. And it can all change in a heartbeat. When she's around, Addie's mother is chronically obsessed with watching a television courtroom reality show or spending all night in an online chat room, she has no room in her consciousness for daily care of her offspring. Recent times have been bad: Addie's mother kicked Addie's good-hearted step-dad, Dwight, out of their old house. Then she misappropriated the mortgage money and took off for days at a time, leaving Addie alone to care for her two little sisters, Brynna and Katie. As a result, the subsequent divorce has ended with the house being gone, Dwight gaining full custody of Brynna and Katie, and Addie and her mom have moved into a funky little trailer in a seriously run-down section of urban Schenectady, New York. There is also something wrong with Addie: "Why was it so hard? My teacher and I had gone through my entire writer's notebook and had highlighted every left-hand margin in bright pink. When I wrote, I was supposed to come back and bump that pink edge with the first letter of every new line. It seemed like kindergarten stuff. But if I got my mind going on the words, I started to miss the margin. If I concentrated on the margin, I forgot what I was writing." The same struggle Addie has with her writer's notebook is also apparent when she is having to use a placeholder while reading a book or -- even worse -- trying to read the swirling music notation for the flute she so loves to play. Of course, the degree of responsibility Addie's mother displays for musical instruments is comparable to that of her parenting and grocery shopping and so, on top of everything else, Addie is burdened with the guilt of playing a flute that should have been returned to her previous school. On the plus side of Addie's ledger is Soula, the woman wh

I picked this up at the library because the cover grabbed my attention. I came to it with no preconceived notions (read review below mine). I am so glad because I just finished the book a few minutes ago and still have that warm fuzzy feeling that only a well-told story produces. I think I just read a Newbery contender. Well done!

Once in a while a reviewer of children's books likes to sit down and reassess their occupation. Here I am. I am an adult and I review books for kids. And most of the time I really enjoy it. I just have a fabulous time reading all these children's books and then spouting off opinions about why you should or shouldn't hand 'em off to the youngsters. But in the end I am still an adult and my opinion is that of someone over the age of 25. A lot of people in my position have a hard time separating their adult perspective from their knowledge of what kids like. Am I blabbering on here? Well, there's a reason for it. Nine times out of ten, when I read a children's book that mucks with my mind, I don't review it. Simple as that. I think, "Book hard. Me no review. Me watch Colbert Report instead," and that is that. But I felt compelled to push through my natural malaise to review "Waiting for Normal" by Leslie Connor. This is partly because the book has been garnering pretty much universally stellar reviews. The writing is strong, the characters interesting, and the plot tight. My problem? The audacity of hope, I guess. This book is awash in it. And so, I must pry my snide, callous, New York City sardonic self away from myself as a 12-year-old child and let these two components of my reviewer self duke it out. Say what you will about Addie, she doesn't let a little thing like the complete and total dissolution of her family unit get her down. Addie's mom (or Mommers) and Addie's wonderful stepfather Dwight have just gotten divorced, and he is legally responsible for their children. Addie, on the other hand, is biologically just her mom's kid so she's left to live with Mommers in a trailer in the middle of Schenectady that Dwight has provided. Addie's always had a way of dealing with her mom's inconsistencies all her life, and now isn't any different. With Mommers disappearing for days at a time, Addie concentrates on the things she can control. Her flute playing, her hamster Piccolo, her friends at the corner convenience store, and getting to see her half-sisters and Dwight whenever she can. Yet as her sisters' lives get increasingly better without her, Addie's own world becomes more and more unstable. Strength of character is her best friend now and her eventual freedom will have to rely on danger. What I'm trying to figure out is why I originally resisted this title. I think it may have something to do with the language that's surrounding the book. Phrases like, "one girl's giant spirit" and "will touch readers' hearts." Ew. We live in a society where real honest emotion is far harder to find than crass commercialized Hallmark moments. Plus I read so many books that try to take advantage of a reader's feeling by shamelessly tugging at the heartstrings like they were marionette lines. Do that once too often and the strings get lank and loose. Then "Waiting for Normal" comes by and it isn't flashy at all. It's packaging keeps pronouncing in big shiny le

Do you ever read a book and just think...WOW? The characters were so well developed and the voice so distinct. It had humor and tension and yet touched me to tears several times. It was so well written that the author hit so many important issues but didn't hit the reader over the head. Maybe I loved this book because it is about a little girl in a terrible situation who is making the best of it...ALL the time. But then, she has that point where she just can't take it. Where your heart truly breaks for her. Where you want to just hold that 12 year old and sob along with her. She has had humor and love despite it all, and yet, she just can't seem to find a way out. She is waiting for Child and Family Services to find her, but scared for them to find her at the same time. As a previous foster parent and adopted two foster children, I found this book to be delightful and insightful. I would recommend it to anyone. It is one of my favorite books I've read in a long time, and I read a lot of books!

I brought this book home for my daughter, and ended up reading it first, and loving it. In Addie, the middle schooler at the heart of this book, Connor has created a protagonist that readers will care for and relate to. The author deftly but lovingly balances Addie's troubles with her strengths, and makes even characters like Addie's dysfunctional mother real, fully fleshed out people we care about. The book is heartwarming without ever being cloying or sentimental,and the writing is pitch-perfect throughout. When I gave it to my daughter she buried her nose in it and didn't put it down until she was done. Fabulous.