The Postcard by Tony Abbott

          Okay, so I know that this picture is a little small. Whoops. Anyway, The Passport is about a boy named Jason and is from his point of view.

          Jason never knew his grandmother. She was an invalid who lived in Florida. But when she passes away after a stroke, Jason is sent to help his father pack away her things and sell her house. He REALLY doesn't want to be in Florida, in the middle of summer while his friends are able to relax at home. He goes unwillingly until strange things start to happen. Jason finds an old postcard with the number 'I' stamped inklessly onto it. Who sent it to his grandmother? What is the story behind the strange mystery found in a magazine that seems to echo his grandmother's life? Who (and this is the strangest question of all) is his dad's father? Was it Mr. Fracker the lawyer? Was it Walter Huff, the made-up husband who supposedly died in World War II? Or was it Emerson Beale, the writer of the mystery and grandma's flame from high school?
           I held my breath throughout the whole thing, as I ran with Jason and Dia, the neighbor girl who can't remember Jason's name. I don't suggest this book for under twelve. Not for violence, not for language, not for bad behavior, but because I think that the plot line will be too hard to follow for readers under twelve. Regardless, I think that those who have the reading skills to follow this mystery will enjoy it very much.


5 stars.



Annabelle

Tallulah (Or Annabelle) Says.

I've decided to change the name of my Quotes to Annabelle Says, because chances are, I'll be posting quotes from someone other than Tallulah. This month's quote is from The Gammage Cup by Carol Kendall, a book I'm reading in school.

            "What I mean is," she went on, "well, I don't think it's doors or cloaks or...or orange sashes. It's us. What I mean is, it's no matter what color we paint our doors or what kind of clothes we wear, we're...well, we're those colors inside us. Instead of being green inside, you see, like other folk. So I don't think maybe it would do any good if we just changed our outside color. We would still be...be orange or scarlet inside, and, well, we would do orange and scarlet things all the time, and everyone would still-"
     
           "Really!" said Eng. "She is simple!"

          "Yes, I know," Muggles agreed. "Everybody always says so. But what I really want to say is, wouldn't it be cheating if we changed our outsides just for the judges? I mean, it doesn't seem quite fair, does it?" She tried to think of something more to explain, but her brain was already dizzy from it's exertion. She sat down.

          "Good sense," Mingy said suddenly. "Most sense I've heard today. Me, I like green. Good sensible color. Doesn't show dirt. Don't have to wash it to pieces, waste soap and water. How would I like it if somebody came along and said I had to wear yellow now? Wouldn't do it. Don't know what color I am inside. Don't think I'm green, though. Probably a good sensible brown. Doesn't show the dirt. But whatever color it is, I'm not going to change it for all the judges in the Land Between the Mountains."

                               - Muggles and Mingy, pages 112-113, The Gammage Cup.





Annabelle