Filled with little moments of quiet wisdom and gentle humor, Newbery winner MacLachlan's story about family love soars. Lucy is the only member of her family who cannot sing. Everyone else—her father, her mother, and her younger sister, Grace—sings on pitch. Even her toddler brother, Teddy, who does not yet talk, sings—although only Lucy knows this, as Teddy sings to her secretly each night. But while Lucy cannot sing (she thinks), she is planning to be a poet, and as she and her family journey across the Minnesota prairie in an old Volkswagen bus and arrive at her aunt's home on the Red River in North Dakota, she composes poems, hoping to write one for her father that is "as beautiful as a cow." (Her father loves cows.) The story, told in first person by Lucy, is ostensibly simple. But in the hands of MacLachlan, simple becomes sparely elegant, and the narrative unfolds to reveal a world of secrets, strengths, fears, and aspirations both relinquished and recovered, with a frisson of tension that rises as the Red River floods. The climax, when it comes, is less of a nail-biter and more of a warm, cozy blanket of love and support—and readers won't mind one bit. A story that never cloys, succeeding on all levels. (Fiction. 6-10)

Gr 3-6 The saying "blood is thicker than water" has never been truer than in this contemporary tale of family devotion. In an old Volkswagen van, Lucy and her family, along with a few cherished chickens, are on a road trip. They are headed to North Dakota to defend her Aunt Frankie's farm from a swelling river. Eschewing most modern conveniences, the family's days are filled with nature, music, and poetry. Young Lucy possesses a raw talent for writing, yet she feels at a loss since she "can't sing" and she covets a melodious voice like the ones she hears everyday-in the operas, blues, and sweet melodies sung by her two-year-old brother, Teddy, who doesn't talk but secretly sings to Lucy. The beauty of this tale is in how the family unites against the swollen river. Lucy discovers that while her song is not the most beautiful, it can be tremendously powerful. This is a flawless introduction to the power of words. Written in simple prose, this lyrically written story offers a moving leitmotif that will stay with readers long after the last page. A must-have. Sada Mozer, Los Angeles Public Library

This Orca Sports novel continues the series formula of combining sports and mystery, though in this case, the two mesh uncomfortably. Marnie becomes a flyer in her cheerleading squad after a teammate is injured, but she worries she won't be ready in time for the big competition in Toronto. She also worries about her best friend, Arielle, who spends more time chatting in an online artists' community than in cheer practice. When Arielle disappears during the competition, Marnie is determined to find her, even though she may have left willingly. Marnie's small-time troubles are of variable interest, but the mystery is timely and fast paced, involving an Internet scam run by a man pretending to mentor young artists while stealing their work. After a lot of buildup, though, the resolution is somewhat unsatisfying: Marnie's confidence grows, but her squad drops out of the competition, pushing cheerleading nearly out of the story, while Arielle continues to live with her "mentor." But where this series is popular, this one should find a home.

As she did in recent younger middle-grade titles including The Truth of Me and Kindred Souls, MacLachlan again demonstrates a gift for combining an economy of prose with a bounty of emotion. Lucy-s family is traveling by VW bus to visit her eccentric Aunt Frankie in North Dakota. An aspiring poet, Lucy insists that she can-t sing, an anomaly in her musical family. Her farmer father loves opera as much as he loves cows; her mother is devoted to musician Langhorne Slim; younger sister Gracie sings in a clear, high voice; and baby Teddy can-t yet talk, but substitutes -la la la- for lyrics of songs he sings to Lucy each night. -Teddy has music but no words,- says Lucy. -I have words but no music. We are a strange pair.- Though the family-s strong bonds are the heart of this novel, MacLachlan includes some nerve-wracking drama, too: a river overflows, threatening to flood Aunt Frankie-s house, and Teddy disappears in the deluge. As befits a story in which words and music play such a central role, MacLachlan-s writing is melodic, poetic, and enchanting. Ages 7-up. (Apr.)

Lucy hates being the only one in her family who can't sing. But when the family travels to North Dakota to help protect Aunt Frankie's farm from the rising Red River, Lucy, an aspiring poet, discovers the strength of her own gifts. This is a sparely written, lyrical story about a pleasingly old-fashioned, close-knit, appealing family.

Filled with little moments of quiet wisdom and gentle humor, Newbery winner MacLachlan's story about family love soars. Lucy is the only member of her family who cannot sing. Everyone else—her father, her mother, and her younger sister, Grace—sings on pitch. Even her toddler brother, Teddy, who does not yet talk, sings—although only Lucy knows this, as Teddy sings to her secretly each night. But while Lucy cannot sing (she thinks), she is planning to be a poet, and as she and her family journey across the Minnesota prairie in an old Volkswagen bus and arrive at her aunt's home on the Red River in North Dakota, she composes poems, hoping to write one for her father that is "as beautiful as a cow." (Her father loves cows.) The story, told in first person by Lucy, is ostensibly simple. But in the hands of MacLachlan, simple becomes sparely elegant, and the narrative unfolds to reveal a world of secrets, strengths, fears, and aspirations both relinquished and recovered, with a frisson of tension that rises as the Red River floods. The climax, when it comes, is less of a nail-biter and more of a warm, cozy blanket of love and support—and readers won't mind one bit. A story that never cloys, succeeding on all levels. (Fiction. 6-10)