Bad animals, boy kings make pages fly by

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      Dogabet
      (Written and illustrated by Dianna Bonder. Whitecap Books, 29 pp, $19.95)
      Dianna Bonder's wonderful alphabet and counting books just keep getting better. The Gabriola Island resident's new canine A-to-Z is charming, its captions delightful ("Witty white whippets wear wild wispy wigs"), its pictures dense with offbeat elements. Best of all, Bonder has hidden many items on each page that correspond to the letter in question, plus a secret message for the truly eagle-eyed to decode.

      Boy in Motion
      (By Ainslie Manson, illustrated by Renné Benoit. Greystone Books, 38 pp, $19.95)
      It's coming up on 20 years since Rick Hansen completed his historic Man in Motion tour. (The official date was May 22, 1987.) That means a whole generation has passed since the Vancouver paraplegic took up Terry Fox's torch and set off to conquer the world by wheelchair. Youngsters who don't realize that not one but two Canadian champions hail from these parts will find pride in Hansen's life story, told briskly and unsappily here by Ainslie Manson with folksy paintings by Renné Benoit. Manson draws out Hansen's indefinable spirit and enormous drive as she presents the story of how the boy in motion grew up to be a hero.

      Baaaad Animals
      (By Tiffany Stone, illustrated by Christina Leist. Tradewind Books, 64 pp, $9.95)
      Tiffany Stone continues to put the dog in doggerel with her second collection of animal-themed comic verse. Her rhymes have just the right insistent rhythm and goofy wordplay to lodge in the brain ("I promise not to eat you,/raw or roasted on a fire./BURP!/You shouldn't have believed me./Every lion is a liar"). Many of the poems finish by questioning or subverting authority, so not only are they fun but they're sneakily political to boot.

      Odd Man Out
      (By Sarah Ellis. Groundwood Books, 162 pp, $9.95)
      Congratulations to Sarah Ellis. The long-time Vancouver author and librarian has written a tween novel of great compassion and cheer. Kip, at loose ends while his mother honeymoons with her new (and nice) husband, spends the summer with his grandmother and cousins on the West Coast. Kip's straitlaced upbringing collides with the anarchic spirit of his grandma's island house, which, slated for demolition, is the scene of wild graffiti and moderate destruction. Kip confronts his dead father's true nature during this unforgettable summer, and lays fears of his own inadequacy to rest. All this unfolds with grace through Ellis's storytelling, which is surefooted and wise.

      Rex Zero and the End of the World
      (By Tim Wynne-Jones. Groundwood Books, 195 pp, $12.95)
      It's 1962 and if the threat of the Russians blasting Ottawa into oblivion isn't bad enough, the Americans seem to be mad at Cuba for some reason. Set against this are the turmoil that Rex Norton-Norton feels after yet another move, and rumours of an escaped zoo panther living in the local park. Wynne-Jones nails the period, and the unruly energy of six kids in the house with a father mostly at work and a mother caught up in what nice families do and don't say. Rex, who shares many of the author's childhood experiences, is a winner of a narrator, which Wynne-Jones must feel too. He's now at work on a second book for the series. Can't wait.

      Earth to Nathan Blue (By Matt Beam. Puffin Books, 217 pp, $12.99) "Luza and I are looking for his fathership. He left him a year ago. He disappeared to a place called Costa Oeste, which is millions of kiloarms away. We're thinking you might know a way to get there turboblast." That's Nathan Blue, resident of Plutonia, talking. He's a lot more interesting, he feels, than Nathan Blue, ordinary kid with a father who won't grow up or even phone (strangely similar to his invisible best friend Luza's dad). Stressed and deeply in denial about his deadbeat dad's inability to parent, Nathan retreats further and further into the world of his imagination, even as he befriends a tramp who suggests that riding the rails will change both their fortunes. Nathan's inventive language is fun, and his battles with his mother and teachers are vivid and true. The grittier aspects–the absent father, the prospect of running away with a homeless alcoholic–may turn off more sensitive readers.

      Hamish X and the Hollow Mountain
      (By Seán Cullen, illustrated by Johann Wessels. Puffin Canada, 279 pp, $18)
      Hamish X, mysterious and powerful orphan with his otherworldly boots and fearless demeanour, is back for a second adventure, this time leading his cluster of friends to the remote Kingdom of Switzerland. The evil Mr. Candy and Mr. Sweet are back as well, and it's touch and go who will triumph in this fast-paced and inventive battle between good (kids) and bad (cyborgs). Seán Cullen, a Toronto comedian, has found his legs with Hollow Mountain. Some of the plot lost me, though, which makes me worry for younger readers. But the notion of a monarchy hidden inside the Alps, run by a boy-king served by robotic raccoons, is so pleasing that I'm happy to strap in for the ride.

      I.D.
      (By Vicki Grant. Orca Books, 101 pp, $9.95)
      Chris Bent, 17, is going nowhere fast. His home life sucks, he's got anger issues, and the girl he likes won't go to the dance with him. It's only weeks till graduation, but impulsively, Chris can't leave the contents of that fat wallet he found alone. Soon enough, he's adopted the name and appearance of another person and is living high. Vicki Grant's fast-paced novella for reluctant-reader teens raises great points about ethics and how they crumble. Chris is credible–smart and (understandably) cynical: "It's all about looks. That's how people decide what they think about you." The story arc could have used more care–the stakes seem real in the moment, but with grad only weeks away, even an impulsive teenager might decide not to throw it all away on a gamble. And speaking of gambles, the trick ending, though exciting, doesn't entirely pay off. Still, what a rush of a read.

      Where's My Jetpack?
      (By Daniel H. Wilson, illustrated by Richard Horne. Bloomsbury USA, 192 pp, $14.95)
      Robots, cyborgs, and strange planets with their own languages–it sometimes appears that anything and everything is possible in books. Real life, by comparison, seems so drab. Where, demands Daniel Wilson, is the stuff of wonder, all that cool gear we were guaranteed? Where's My Jetpack? A Guide to the Amazing Science Fiction Future That Never Arrived is a nonfiction book for kids and adults that itemizes the sleek chrome Tomorrowland we were meant to inherit. How close have we come to attaining our Jetsons-style destiny? Sadly, not very, concludes the author, who writes about even complex science with an enviable competence and humour. Find out how to build your own hoverboard, learn how close we are to (finally) developing reliable rebreathers, and get the inside scoop on how to book your own berth on a revamped zeppelin. It's none of it as cool as we were promised, but hey, at least we haven't let the robots take over yet.

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