Like other children living in Baghdad, Ali loves soccer, music and dancing, but most of all, he loves the ancient art of calligraphy. When bombs begin to fall on his city, Ali turns to his pen, writing sweeping and gliding words to the silent music that drowns out the war all around him.
War-torn Afghanistan could not seem farther from Newfoundland, but it is about to change twelve-year-old tomboy Jack Cooper (or Jacqueline, as her mother insists on calling her) forever. When her father is killed in the war, she watches helplessly as her mother crumbles under sorrow and depression. Jack and her younger sister and brother, Tessa and Simon, end up across the country, living on a run-down farm in a small town on the Prairies with a great-grandmother they didn’t know existed. Worried that they will be abandoned again if Gran moves into a retirement home, Jack puts on a brave face and encourages Tessa and Simon to take on the challenges of their new life. In the process, she learns that families come in many different forms and that love, trust, and faith can build a home anywhere.
Wind-voice the half-dove, formerly enslaved, is now free, and Maldeor, the one-winged archaeopteryx, hungers for supreme power. Can Wind-voice and his valiant companions—Ewingerale, the woodpecker scribe; Stormac, the myna warrior; and Fleydur, the musician eagle—save the future of their world?
It is a prequel to Swordbird.
A Moreton Bay Fig tree, planted as a memorial to Australian soldiers killed in World War I, is slated to be cut down by the local council. A young boy tells the moving story of the tree, as related by his great grandfather, grandfather, and father, each of whom has participated in wars over the years. Interweaving themes of war, memory, and conservation, this book blends a sensitive text with brilliantly original collage art by Shaun Tan to bring an important lesson to young readers.
This is how wars are fought now: by children, hopped-up on drugs and wielding AK-47s. Children have become soldiers of choice. In the more than fifty conflicts going on worldwide, it is estimated that there are some 300,000 child soldiers. Ishmael Beah used to be one of them.What is war like through the eyes of a child soldier? How does one become a killer? How does one stop? Child soldiers have been profiled by journalists, and novelists have struggled to imagine their lives. But until now, there has not been a first-person account from someone who came through this hell and survived.In A Long Way Gone, Beah, now twenty-five years old, tells a riveting story: how at the age of twelve, he fled attacking rebels and wandered a land rendered unrecognizable by violence. By thirteen, he’d been picked up by the government army, and Beah, at heart a gentle boy, found that he was capable of truly terrible acts.
Salsa music blares from the stereo. One by one, friends and family, who come from all around Latin America, arrive at Carmen Teresa’s house to cook, dance, gossip, and play dominoes. And the New Year’s Day celebration begins… When a neighbor gives Carmen Teresa a blank notebook as a holiday present, she doesn’t know how she will fill it. The guests all have ideas of what she should do with her book. They decide she should fill it with stories about their childhoods. And everyone has a story to tell. But Carmen Teresa, who loves to cook, surprises everyone with how she will use her beautiful new present. With energy, sensitivity, and warmth, Lulu Delacre introduces readers to a symphony of colorful characters whose stories dance through a year of Latin American holidays and customs. And readers will also be treated to recipes for the irresistible foods that appear in each story. When Lulu Delacre set out to collect family recipes for a cookbook of traditional Latin American foods, she discovered something amazing. “How often the flavors of our childhood,” says Ms. Delacre, “unlock memories from our past.” It was this discovery that inspired her also to collect those memories that her friends and family recalled. And she based Salsa Stories on those recollections.
The river of jubilant people alarmed Sabine as they bobbed along Allidina Visram Street in Kampala….The dark faces drew closer. Women in bright gomesi and headscarves danced, and bare-chested men punched their fists into the air, chanting, “Muhindi, nenda nyumbani! Indian go home.”Sabine felt she was drowning in their cries.In August 1972, President Idi Amin declares that a message from God has come to him in a dream: all foreign Indians must be “weeded out” of Uganda in the next ninety days. Fifteen-year-old Sabine and her father, a successful businessman, are confident that their family will not be affected, since they are Ugandan citizens, but Sabine’s fearful mother is certain that they will have to leave.As the ninety days tick by, the President’s message – the “countdown monster,” as Sabine calls it – is broadcast every day on the radio, and life becomes more difficult for her family and other Indians in Uganda. Sabine tries to hold on to her optimism, counting on her best friend, Zena, and her grandfather, Bapa, to keep her spirits up, but after her beloved uncle Zulfiqar disappears and Zena turns against her, Sabine begins to share her mother’s fears. When a new law is declared on the radio – all Indians must leave – Sabine and her family have a hard decision to make. Should they stay and defend their rights, or should they go? And how will they begin a new life in a different land?
See the review at WOW Review, Volume 4, Issue 2
In 1970, when the Jordanian civil war known as Black September began, U.P.I. correspondent Wilborn Hampton was sent to report on unfolding events. Holed up in the InterContinental Hotel and caught in the crossfire, he managed to get the story out. Three years later, dispatched to Israel to cover the Yom Kippur War, the reporter took it on himself to drive to the front lines.
In this groundbreaking memoir set in Ramallah during the aftermath of the 1967 Six-Day War, Ibtisam Barakat captures what it is like to be a child whose world is shattered by war. With candor and courage, she stitches together memories of her childhood: fear and confusion as bombs explode near her home and she is separated from her family; the harshness of life as a Palestinian refugee; her unexpected joy when she discovers Alef, the first letter of the Arabic alphabet. This is the beginning of her passionate connection to words, and as language becomes her refuge, allowing her to piece together the fragments of her world, it becomes her true home.
Featured in Volume II, Issue 2 of WOW Review.
For Ellie Linton, being back on the farm with her parents is what makes the terrible things that happened during the war. But the war won’t let her go. A devastating tragedy has shattered any hope she ever had to reclaim her life, or herself.