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"Horvath, Polly"
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The canning season
Thirteen-year-old Ratchet spends a summer in Maine with her eccentric great-aunts Tilly and Penpen, hearing strange stories from the past and encountering a variety of unusual and colorful characters.
Book
The night garden
Twelve-year-old Franny Whitekraft lives quietly with her adopted parents on a farm on Vancouver Island until the spring of 1945 when the three Madden children move in, UFOs and ghosts appear, an important military airplane disappears, and wishes made in Old Tom's forbidden night garden will hopefully get everyone out of trouble.
Book
Hermione tells all How should Harry Potter end?
\"Don't I know it, dearie. Still,\" the waitress said, looking at the baby, \"I guess you had yourself a little romance. Which one was it? Potter? [Ron]? Percy, was it?\" \"Nah, I got it beat. I figure it's all in arranging words in some sort of order. Sentences they call it. Like this one I come up with this morning: 'Started out, Could nutshell myself infinite were bad dreams God, I count, a king, oh, space bounded in not I have that and it of a be.' Then I rearranged things a bit and got this: 'Oh God, I could be bounded in a nutshell and count myself a king of infinite space were it not that I have bad dreams.' Don't know what it means.\" \"Hush,\" said [Hermione], kicking the carrier to the other side of the room, \"Mummy's writing.\"
Newspaper Article
Very rich
Ten-year-old Rupert, from a very large, very poor family, accidentally becomes part of an eccentric rich family's life beginning at Christmas, and soon sees that wealth is not everything.
Book
Hermione Tells All
\"YOU'VE been coming in a lot lately, you and that little tyke, haven't you, dearie?\" asked the waitress, idly swishing her cloth across a neighboring table.
Newspaper Article
Hermione Tells All
''Don't I know it, dearie. Still,'' the waitress said, looking at the baby, ''I guess you had yourself a little romance. Which one was it? Potter? [Ron]? Percy, was it?'' ''Nah, I got it beat. I figure it's all in arranging words in some sort of order. Sentences they call it. Like this one I come up with this morning: 'Started out, Could nutshell myself infinite were bad dreams God, I count, a king, oh, space bounded in not I have that and it of a be.' Then I rearranged things a bit and got this: 'Oh God, I could be bounded in a nutshell and count myself a king of infinite space were it not that I have bad dreams.' Don't know what it means.'' ''Hush,'' said [Hermione], kicking the carrier to the other side of the room, ''Mummy's writing.''
Newspaper Article
Two writers look at weird
Right after reading that comment, I sat down to watch O Brother, Where Art Thou? [...]it irritated me that the great American filmmakers would waste their time making such a weird little film. [...]Mr. and Mrs. Bunny has very broad appeal in both the human and bunny market and even among foxes - although there it is being marketed as a horror story. Is obsessive mother love/ taxidermy weirder than adolescent girls being infatuated with young men who want to suck their blood (never Mrs. Bunny's idea of an attractive courting ritual) or television shows where the object is to kill everyone else and be the last one standing? I mean, objectively speaking, are they, Mr. Gantos, are they?
Magazine Article