Fortunately, The Milk, by Neil Gaiman

I said in my last Neil Gaiman review that Gaiman understands story better than anyone else on the planet. As further proof, I offer you Fortunately, The Milk.

If you want to learn how to write a plot, read this book. It will take you less than an hour, and you will enjoy it immensely. If you want to understand how humour works, also read this book. (It's the same, really, plot and humour. Jokes are just really short plots; the best plots are just extended jokes. As you will understand once you have read this book.)

It's really, really funny. And, it has aliens, pirates, dinosaurs, volcanoes, time-travel (well, obviously, otherwise how could you have pirates and dinosaurs in the same book? This book does follow all the rules.) piranhas, big red buttons, coconuts, Floaty-Ball-Person-Carriers, ponies, um, I may have missed a few things, but Gaiman definitely didn't. It has it all! And milk. And where there is milk, there is hope, said the stegosaurus.

The illustrations are delightful, and perfect (my edition is illustrated by Skottie Young). The characters are spot on--his family dynamics may be a bit stereotyped, but it's because they're true. All the stereotypes are slyly self-referential--jokes of themselves that kids will enjoy getting. Also some popular culture jokes that older kids and adults will enjoy getting. (The Usual Suspects, anyone?)

This would make a great read-aloud--that's what it is, a bedtime story made up on the spot by a parent. If you can manage without becoming hysterical (always my problem when I try to read funny things out loud).

This one is your favourite breakfast cereal, with milk. Obviously.

 For more marvelous middle-grade choices, head over to Shannon Messenger's blog every Monday.

Ocean at the End of the Lane, by Neil Gaiman

I usually try to review less well-known books, but if I don't occasionally get fan-girly about my favourite authors, you'll never know who my favourite authors are, right? So here's a little bit about Neil Gaiman's latest, though nothing I say will do it justice. (It's actually kind of hilarious to read the Goodread reviews of this book, because everyone tries to wax lyrical just to convey how much the book meant to them. Some of the reviews are works of literature themselves!)

If I had to sum it up for you quickly, I'd say The Ocean at the End of the Lane is Coraline for grown-ups. (Of course, "there aren't any grown ups. Not one, in the whole wide world.")(Ocean is an eminently quotable book, you'll find.) Coraline is one of the most perfect, beautiful, scary books I've ever read. Gaiman knows exactly what children are afraid of and why. Ocean is narrated by an adult remembering an event from his childhood, so Gaiman can play with childhood fears that are also adult fears, for slightly different reasons. It's so interesting watching him dissect human psychology using only story to do it, because that's what story is for, and no one writing today understands story better than Gaiman. The book has layers like the ocean has salt.

I'm starting to blather. It's impossible not to. Never mind. Just read the darn book. It will get its little hook in your heart and you'll be blathering with the rest of us.

One thing I noticed about the reviews is that people who didn't like the book were disappointed that it wasn't something else. You can't come to a Gaiman book expecting anything, or assuming it's like anything else. He doesn't do categories. Ocean is a story, that's all. It's lovely and prickly and heartstopping and

I'm blathering again. Sorry.

The Ocean at the End of the Lane is the salad my daughter made the other night: fresh greens, peaches, strawberries, avocados and grilled bison, with a blackberry vinaigrette I could eat with a spoon it was so good. Complex, with flavours and textures that interact and enhance each other with their contrasts of

Sorry. I'll stop now.