"Common Genetic Influences for ADHD and Reading Disability" ScienceDaily 12/8/10
The correlation of cormorbidity examined by the Colorado Learning Disabilities Research Center is presumed to be "slow processing speed," but this study, at least on the basis of this summary, doesn't address possible diagnostic confusion. Couldn't ADHD behaviors be the product of frustration with the process of decoding/encoding?
Sunday, December 12, 2010
WORLD OF LEARNING: THE COMPLEX DIAGNOSIS OF DYSLEXIA
"Widening Our Perceptions of Reading and Writing Difficulties" ScienceDaily 12/8/10
An Italian study of spelling's connection to reading difficulty suggests that "knowledge of vocabulary may be more important in spelling than previously thought," even in "orthographically transparent" languages, while Israeli researchers find evidence for problems that "are not caused by inability to identify letters or convert them to sounds; they result from migrations of letters between words."
An Italian study of spelling's connection to reading difficulty suggests that "knowledge of vocabulary may be more important in spelling than previously thought," even in "orthographically transparent" languages, while Israeli researchers find evidence for problems that "are not caused by inability to identify letters or convert them to sounds; they result from migrations of letters between words."
LAR'S LIBRARY: MY REVIEW OF JO NESBO'S "DOCTOR PROCTOR'S FART POWDER"
DOCTOR PROCTOR'S FART POWDER. By Jo Nesbo. Illustrated by Mike Lowery. Translated by Tara Chace. Aladdin, 2011 (paperback), 2010, 2008.
The chief selling point of Doctor Proctor’s Fart Powder is blatantly obvious. You would be hard pressed to find a child who didn’t think flatulence funny. And this isn’t normal gas. We’re talking about explosive power that makes the earwax press into your head while your eyes press out of it. Even more appealing, it’s odorless.
The good doctor, the eccentric of his sedate neighborhood, lives on the Oslo fjord, tinkering on new inventions that, like a powder intended to prevent hay fever, generally disappoint him. When a new kid of Lilliputian size named Nilly moves onto quiet Cannon Street, things are going to change, and not just because of his irreverent attitude or loud trumpet playing.
He boosts the confidence of the girl next door, Lisa, and becomes her best friend. They help Doctor Proctor to see that his powder does not have to serve any more useful purpose than making children laugh in order to be profitable. Nilly delivers a proper comeuppance to the bullies who rule Cannon Street, Truls and Trym Trane.
There’s much more to the story, though, including an anaconda sliding through the sluices of the Oslo Municipal Sewer and Drainage Company, huge servings of Jell-O, and the Big and Almost World-Famous Royal Salute at Akershus Fortress, the city’s ancient protector, in honor of Norway’s Independence Day every May 17.
As you can tell, Jo Nesbo, better known for his adult crime novels, has no higher goal here than unadulterated silliness. What’s wrong with that? Widely spaced print lines and lots of charmingly primitive drawings by Mike Lowery make this slapstick saga easy to read. There are absolutely no stumbling blocks in Tara Chase’s adept translation.
Recommended for third graders on up.
The chief selling point of Doctor Proctor’s Fart Powder is blatantly obvious. You would be hard pressed to find a child who didn’t think flatulence funny. And this isn’t normal gas. We’re talking about explosive power that makes the earwax press into your head while your eyes press out of it. Even more appealing, it’s odorless.
The good doctor, the eccentric of his sedate neighborhood, lives on the Oslo fjord, tinkering on new inventions that, like a powder intended to prevent hay fever, generally disappoint him. When a new kid of Lilliputian size named Nilly moves onto quiet Cannon Street, things are going to change, and not just because of his irreverent attitude or loud trumpet playing.
He boosts the confidence of the girl next door, Lisa, and becomes her best friend. They help Doctor Proctor to see that his powder does not have to serve any more useful purpose than making children laugh in order to be profitable. Nilly delivers a proper comeuppance to the bullies who rule Cannon Street, Truls and Trym Trane.
There’s much more to the story, though, including an anaconda sliding through the sluices of the Oslo Municipal Sewer and Drainage Company, huge servings of Jell-O, and the Big and Almost World-Famous Royal Salute at Akershus Fortress, the city’s ancient protector, in honor of Norway’s Independence Day every May 17.
As you can tell, Jo Nesbo, better known for his adult crime novels, has no higher goal here than unadulterated silliness. What’s wrong with that? Widely spaced print lines and lots of charmingly primitive drawings by Mike Lowery make this slapstick saga easy to read. There are absolutely no stumbling blocks in Tara Chase’s adept translation.
Recommended for third graders on up.
Saturday, December 11, 2010
MY REVIEW OF LIBBA BRAY'S "GOING BOVINE"
GOING BOVINE. By Libba Bray. Delacorte, 2009. 480 pages.
Fun and funny enough to have kept me going to the end, but geez, Bray, in line with her name, paints with a broad brush. She gets by on brashness, and tosses out anything that is even close to subtle. Forget about nuance with Going Bovine.
The premise—sixteen-year-old slacker from severely dysfunctional family gets mad cow disease and goes on hallucinatory quest to find Dr. X and save the universe with hypochondriac midget, talking gnome lawn ornament, and riot-grrrl angel as sidekicks—should have warned me about what to expect.
The tilting-at-windmills quality of someone on his deathbed accepting an impossible mission should clue the reader into Bray’s nod to Cervantes, but in case the reader doesn't get it, the author lets you know that she does, more than a few times. She also leaves you in no doubt about how she feels about the crass, shallow, humorless, merciless, materialistic culture of consumerism in which she is marketing Going Bovine. '
Bray is so consumed with setting ‘em up and knocking ‘em down that her protagonist, Cameron, who might be kind of sweet if he just poked his head out of the cloud of pot smoke that continually surrounds him, hardly seems to matter. He’s just a vehicle who can enter places like CESSNAB (Church of Everlasting Satisfaction and Snack-’N’-Bowl), so that Bray can rip into the sleazy superficiality of it all. Balder, the Nordic yard decoration, has more personality, and integrity.
It’s Vonnegut on steroids, and Bray leaps into the fray with such gusto that she pulled me along for the ride, even as I tried to dig in my heels and slow things down enough to jump off. Sheer outrageousness is worth something. Libba Bray milks every last drop. She’s determined to be the most unwimpy YA writer on the block. I’d have to say she’s pretty successful.
Recommended for seventh graders on up, if you feel comfortable with substance abuse, iterations of the F-word, a graphic description of crummy copulation, and a coy recounting of celestial sex.
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Fun and funny enough to have kept me going to the end, but geez, Bray, in line with her name, paints with a broad brush. She gets by on brashness, and tosses out anything that is even close to subtle. Forget about nuance with Going Bovine.
The premise—sixteen-year-old slacker from severely dysfunctional family gets mad cow disease and goes on hallucinatory quest to find Dr. X and save the universe with hypochondriac midget, talking gnome lawn ornament, and riot-grrrl angel as sidekicks—should have warned me about what to expect.
The tilting-at-windmills quality of someone on his deathbed accepting an impossible mission should clue the reader into Bray’s nod to Cervantes, but in case the reader doesn't get it, the author lets you know that she does, more than a few times. She also leaves you in no doubt about how she feels about the crass, shallow, humorless, merciless, materialistic culture of consumerism in which she is marketing Going Bovine. '
Bray is so consumed with setting ‘em up and knocking ‘em down that her protagonist, Cameron, who might be kind of sweet if he just poked his head out of the cloud of pot smoke that continually surrounds him, hardly seems to matter. He’s just a vehicle who can enter places like CESSNAB (Church of Everlasting Satisfaction and Snack-’N’-Bowl), so that Bray can rip into the sleazy superficiality of it all. Balder, the Nordic yard decoration, has more personality, and integrity.
It’s Vonnegut on steroids, and Bray leaps into the fray with such gusto that she pulled me along for the ride, even as I tried to dig in my heels and slow things down enough to jump off. Sheer outrageousness is worth something. Libba Bray milks every last drop. She’s determined to be the most unwimpy YA writer on the block. I’d have to say she’s pretty successful.
Recommended for seventh graders on up, if you feel comfortable with substance abuse, iterations of the F-word, a graphic description of crummy copulation, and a coy recounting of celestial sex.
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LAR'S LIBRARY: MY REVIEW OF ELISE BROACH'S "MASTERPIECE"
MASTERPIECE. By Elise Broach. Illustrated by Kelly Murphy. Feiwel and Friends, 2010 (paperback), 2008. 304 pages.
E.B. White, George Selden. Sophisticated little animals. Manhattanites of yesteryear, with their glib savoir faire and urban obtuseness. Witty, well-chosen language. It’s counterintuitive that it still sells.
Stuart Little and The Cricket in Times Square still do, thankfully. People just won’t give up on literate, if retrograde, children’s literature, because reading it, particularly reading it aloud, remains such a delight.
Masterpiece could have been published 50 years ago with hardly a raised eyebrow at anachronism. It’s the story of a family of beetles (they wouldn’t be cockroaches, would they, even if that is far more likely) who live under the kitchen sink in the Pompadays’ (love that) apartment.
James Pompaday, an insecure eleven-year-old, forms a secret friendship with the artistic member of the beetle family, Marvin. Because of Marvin’s skill, James’s superficial mother and stepfather, as well as his earnest, estranged father—there’s something that might not have flown in 1960—come to believe that James can use pen and ink as adroitly as, say, Albrecht Durer.
It’s a clever premise that allows Elise Broach to introduce young readers to the world of medieval art curatorship, and more thrillingly, to the history of art theft. It’s up to James, and especially Marvin, to solve a most daring heist—from the New York Museum of Modern Art, no less.
Marvin, James, and the lovely MOMA caretaker Christina Balcony are an engaging trio of lead characters. The Pompadays and Marvin’s family add some nice comic relief. Kelly Murphy’s pen-and-ink illustrations are a perfect thematic match with the text, a mystery that holds onto the necessary suspense and excitement.
Broach’s homage to White and Selden earns her a place on bookshelves next to them.
Recommended for fourth graders on up.
E.B. White, George Selden. Sophisticated little animals. Manhattanites of yesteryear, with their glib savoir faire and urban obtuseness. Witty, well-chosen language. It’s counterintuitive that it still sells.
Stuart Little and The Cricket in Times Square still do, thankfully. People just won’t give up on literate, if retrograde, children’s literature, because reading it, particularly reading it aloud, remains such a delight.
Masterpiece could have been published 50 years ago with hardly a raised eyebrow at anachronism. It’s the story of a family of beetles (they wouldn’t be cockroaches, would they, even if that is far more likely) who live under the kitchen sink in the Pompadays’ (love that) apartment.
James Pompaday, an insecure eleven-year-old, forms a secret friendship with the artistic member of the beetle family, Marvin. Because of Marvin’s skill, James’s superficial mother and stepfather, as well as his earnest, estranged father—there’s something that might not have flown in 1960—come to believe that James can use pen and ink as adroitly as, say, Albrecht Durer.
It’s a clever premise that allows Elise Broach to introduce young readers to the world of medieval art curatorship, and more thrillingly, to the history of art theft. It’s up to James, and especially Marvin, to solve a most daring heist—from the New York Museum of Modern Art, no less.
Marvin, James, and the lovely MOMA caretaker Christina Balcony are an engaging trio of lead characters. The Pompadays and Marvin’s family add some nice comic relief. Kelly Murphy’s pen-and-ink illustrations are a perfect thematic match with the text, a mystery that holds onto the necessary suspense and excitement.
Broach’s homage to White and Selden earns her a place on bookshelves next to them.
Recommended for fourth graders on up.
LARS'S LIBRARY: MY REVIEW OF LAURIE HALSE ANDERSON'S "FORGE"
FORGE. By Laurie Halse Anderson. Atheneum, 2010. 304 pages.
Unlike Chains, its War of Independence predecessor, Forge wastes no time getting in gear. Curzon, a young slave whom we had last seen as his friend Isabel rescued him from a British prison ship, is almost immediately thrown into the Battles of Saratoga.
As fighting overtakes him, Curzon hides in the woods, only to witness a showdown between a redcoat and a Patriot soldier. The Continental, fumbling to reload his flintlock, looks to be an easy target. Then Curzon unleashes a rock at the British soldier. His shot goes awry. The American fires and a musket ball tears the Englishman’s guts open.
With a riveting beginning like that, Forge can’t go wrong. I felt that the first half of Chains was dragged down by the relationship between Isabel and her developmentally delayed sister, Ruth. Anderson’s explanation of that relationship held up the action. No such problem here. Ruth is not in this one at all.
Saratoga was a turning point in the Revolutionary War, demonstrating to the French that the rebels had a viable army that was capable of defeating the mighty British Empire. But with Philadelphia occupied, the Americans’ cause was hardly assured. They really proved their mettle by surviving the winter at Valley Forge.
Curzon, who befriends the American soldier and enlists in the Continental Army, also survives Valley Forge. His friend Eben, a wonderful character delightfully drawn by Anderson, is forced to look at slavery in a new light, due to the bond he forms with the black teenager who saves his life.
Curzon believes his service under General Washington means that he is now free, but soon finds out that white men don’t have to keep their word—if it’s given to a slave. His old master appears at the encampment and reclaims his property. There is one benefit for Curzon: Bellingham also owns Isabel.
How she and Curzon, both so strong-willed, face the injustice of their condition, as well as their feelings for each other, makes for an engrossing tale, told with drama and humor.
I listened to Forge, and was not particularly taken by the narrator, Tim Cain. However, the first person voice of Curzon and the fast-paced story line erased any difficulties with Cain’s mediocre delivery. Anderson’s second installment in her Seeds of America trilogy gives young readers a galvanizing look at this important period in American history.
Recommended for fifth graders on up.
Unlike Chains, its War of Independence predecessor, Forge wastes no time getting in gear. Curzon, a young slave whom we had last seen as his friend Isabel rescued him from a British prison ship, is almost immediately thrown into the Battles of Saratoga.
As fighting overtakes him, Curzon hides in the woods, only to witness a showdown between a redcoat and a Patriot soldier. The Continental, fumbling to reload his flintlock, looks to be an easy target. Then Curzon unleashes a rock at the British soldier. His shot goes awry. The American fires and a musket ball tears the Englishman’s guts open.
With a riveting beginning like that, Forge can’t go wrong. I felt that the first half of Chains was dragged down by the relationship between Isabel and her developmentally delayed sister, Ruth. Anderson’s explanation of that relationship held up the action. No such problem here. Ruth is not in this one at all.
Saratoga was a turning point in the Revolutionary War, demonstrating to the French that the rebels had a viable army that was capable of defeating the mighty British Empire. But with Philadelphia occupied, the Americans’ cause was hardly assured. They really proved their mettle by surviving the winter at Valley Forge.
Curzon, who befriends the American soldier and enlists in the Continental Army, also survives Valley Forge. His friend Eben, a wonderful character delightfully drawn by Anderson, is forced to look at slavery in a new light, due to the bond he forms with the black teenager who saves his life.
Curzon believes his service under General Washington means that he is now free, but soon finds out that white men don’t have to keep their word—if it’s given to a slave. His old master appears at the encampment and reclaims his property. There is one benefit for Curzon: Bellingham also owns Isabel.
How she and Curzon, both so strong-willed, face the injustice of their condition, as well as their feelings for each other, makes for an engrossing tale, told with drama and humor.
I listened to Forge, and was not particularly taken by the narrator, Tim Cain. However, the first person voice of Curzon and the fast-paced story line erased any difficulties with Cain’s mediocre delivery. Anderson’s second installment in her Seeds of America trilogy gives young readers a galvanizing look at this important period in American history.
Recommended for fifth graders on up.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
LAR'S LIBRARY: JANE YOLEN
On NPR's site, you can listen to a nice profile of Jane Yolen, author of 300 children's books. Good books.
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