This is the fourth children’s mystery I’ve read of the five nominated for this year’s Edgar Award. When I started reading it, I thought, “Let’s see–baseball, Italian Americans, and a mystery to find a hidden treasure–yep, sounds like my kind of book.”

Title: 13 Hangmen

Author: Art Corriveau

Genre: Mystery

Age group: Middle Grade

Synopsis: Just before his thirteenth birthday, Tony DiMarco receives two unexpected gifts from his great uncle, Zio Angelo: a Red Sox baseball cap that may just have belonged to Ted Williams and an entire townhouse located in Boston’s historic North End. The house is left to Tony in Zio Angelo’s will, which requires that Tony sleep in the bedroom on the top floor. One morning, Tony awakens to discover another boy in the room with him. It’s the thirteen-year-old version of Zio Angelo who, through some mysterious portal, is able to inhabit the room at the same time as Tony as long as the Ted Williams cap remains on a shelf in the room. A neighbor accuses Tony’s dad of murdering Zio Angelo in order to inherit the house. This leads Tony on a series of adventures to determine what really caused Zio Angelo’s death and find a treasure that is reportedly hidden in the townhouse.

Does it pass the “Homeschool Mom Test“? I don’t want to give away too much of the book, but the “portal” that allows Tony to meet with the thirteen-year-old version of his great uncle also allows him to meet with other previous thirteen-year-old inhabitants of this historic townhouse. Because of that, Tony meets boys of various ethnic and religious backgrounds, including a runaway slave and a Jewish boy who encounters prejudice. Even from his own time period, Tony encounters a Wiccan girl and his father is a Buddhist, so there’s great diversity in this cast of characters.  I know the mention of Wiccan practices would make some parents uneasy, but because the book has a lot to say about acceptance and prejudice, I think it’s worth parents taking a look at. This story could provide many “teachable moments” when discussed with children.

Overall, I think this is a well-crafted mystery, which might inspire some kids to learn more about the history of our country, especially within the city of Boston.

I still have one more Edgar nominee to read for the juvenile category: The Quick Fix by Jack D. Ferraiolo. I’m having problems finding a copy of it. None of the Barnes and Noble near me have the book in stock, and almost none of the libraries in my area have the book, and if they do have it, it’s already checked out. I could buy the Nook or Kindle version, but if I’m going to buy the book, I want a hard copy that I can donate to my classroom.

Yesterday afternoon, I found myself writing a note in which I ended a sentence with the word “in.” The English teacher in me almost began to twitch at the prospect of ending a sentence with a preposition until I realized I wasn’t using “in” as a preposition at all. I was using “in” as an adverb.

What’s the difference?

A preposition requires an object (a noun or pronoun) after it. For example, The answer is in the book. In is a preposition in this sentence because it is followed by the noun book. Like all prepositions, in is showing a relationship between a noun and another word in the sentence. In this case, in gives the relationship between the book and the answer.

An adverb tells how, when, where, or to what extent. It usually modifies a verb. So when I write a sentence like “Please turn your papers in,” I’m using in as an adverb telling where the papers should be turned. There is no noun that can act as an object after in in this sentence, so go ahead and leave it at the end all by itself. It’s an adverb. It can take it.

In the meantime, please turn in all your papers to the teacher in the above photo. I can’t take any more grading. 🙂

Photo via Wikimedia Commons

A student asked me about this a couple days ago. It’s one of those grammar rules I feel like I know inherently simply from being a voracious reader, but we took a moment in class to pinpoint the distinction between “every day” and “everyday.”

“Every day” is a combination adjective + noun. We use it in sentences when we mean to say “each day.” For example, we might say, “I eat three meals every day.”

“Everyday” is an adjective. We use it to describe a noun. According to Merriam-Webster, it means “encountered or used routinely or typically : ordinary.” For example, “The sun rising in the east is an everyday occurrence.”

In other words, if you can substitute the word ordinary, you want everyday. If you can substitute the two words each day (or per day), then you want every day.

This week I tackled the 400+ page behemoth that is The Edge of Nowhere.  This is the second contender for the 2013 Edgar for Best YA Mystery that I’ve read this year. It was also recently nominated for the Agatha Award.

Title: The Edge of Nowhere

Author: Elizabeth George

Genre: Mystery

Age group: YA (teens)

Synopsis: Becca King can hear other people’s thoughts in the forms of whispers. When she “hears” her stepfather’s criminal activity, she and her mom decide to disappear. Becca’s mom arranges to leave her on Whidbey Island with an old friend, but when Becca arrives, she discovers that her mom’s friend has just died. While trying to hide her true identity, Becca meets many of the island’s inhabitants who all have secrets to hide. Of course, it’s hard to hide secrets completely from a girl who can hear thoughts.

Does it pass the “Homeschool Mom Test“? For a contemporary YA novel, the language was pretty clean. A few minor swears are used, but they don’t dominate the novel by any means. There is a brief scene of boys sexually harassing a high school girl.

I enjoyed this book more than the one other Edgar YA nominee I’ve read so far. The author Elizabeth George lives on Whidbey Island (yep, it’s a real place!), and she does a great job of making the setting a “character” in this book.

I have only two minor complaints. First, there’s a good amount of “head hopping.” At first, we are following Becca’s perspective from a third-person limited narrator, but a quarter of the way in, we start getting other characters’ perspectives.

My other minor complaint is that this book is the beginning of a series, so if you’re looking for a resolution to Becca’s problem with her stepdad, you don’t get it in this book. There is another problem presented in this novel, and that one is wrapped up by the end.

When I’m doing reading all the nominees for the Edgar, I’ll let you know my favorite.

I’m on my second week of reviewing the nominees for the 2013 Edgar Award. This week I tackle a contender for the juvenile category.

Title: Spy School

Author: Stuart Gibbs

Age: upper middle grade (to me this book screams “twelve-year-old boy”)

Genre: Mystery

Synopsis: Twelve-year-old Ben Ripley has been recruited by a secret school that trains junior CIA members. His parents and best friend think he’s headed off to a geeky science school, but Ben soon discovers that he’s entangled in a dangerous mission to uncover a mole hiding within the school. It doesn’t help that he’s fallen for an older spy girl with skills far superior to his. Can Ben save the school from the enemy and win the attention of the girl?

Does it pass the “Homeschool Mom Test”? Overall, Spy School is a relatively harmless story, especially compared to some of the movies and video games twelve-year-old boys enjoy. However, there are a few things in the book that might give some parents reason to pause before handing it to their son.

First, as a spy story, you can imagine that there’s going to be violence and weaponry. However, I thought the author did a pretty good job of bringing it to a middle grade level.  Our narrator, Ben, has terrible aim on the firing range at school, so the only time he handles a gun is at the very end of the story, and he doesn’t aim it at a living creature. I’d say more, but I’d ruin the ending.

Second, the words “damn” and “ass” are used once each in the story. Quite frankly, these words can be heard on network TV, but I know some parents still don’t want that in their kids’ reading material at all.

Third, the adults in the book are made to look pretty stupid. Sometimes, especially in the case of the principal at the school, they are made to look really stupid. This seems to be a common trend in modern middle grade literature. I’ve heard some parents express dismay about this, so I’m giving fair warning. Only a parent can judge if his or her child can handle that with grace.

Bottom line? Despite the fact that I guessed who the mole was really early on (maybe I’ve just read too many mysteries at this point), I enjoyed the different twists and turns in the plot. Gibbs really keeps the action moving. The poor narrator is attacked by the enemy and fellow classmates at every turn. I think twelve-year-old boys who like spy movies would gobble this up.