Do you have one more person on your holiday shopping list? Need some help? I’ve got you covered with several recommendations of books that make great gifts.
Also in this episode, I give a little update on the drama surrounding those dolls from the Wicked film. It turns out there is a lawsuit over the unfortunate misprint on the box, with one family claiming that they were harmed by being directed to visit a . . . corn . . . website. I still don’t think that this is that big of a deal, and that parents don’t really need to stress about it, especially considering that the dolls were all pulled from store shelves.
What I am a bit more concerned about, though, is that the success of the movie version of the Wicked stage musical has led publishers to put out a new edition of the novel Wicked by Gregory Maguire. It features the images of the actors in the film:
It’s common for marketers to do this when a film is based on a book, but this time it’s pretty inappropriate as well as misleading to consumers. The book Wicked is not now a major motion picture. Because the book has very little to do with the stage show, which is the inspiration for the movie. I read Maguire’s novel when it first came out. It’s wild and weird and interesting . . . and absolutely NOT for children. I know some teenagers are more mature than others, but I still wouldn’t give it to an underage kid. By having characters from a PG-rated film on the cover and implying that the movie and the book have much at all to do with one another, it would be very easy for a well-meaning adult to give a book to a kid which they simply aren’t developmentally ready for. I strongly disagree with this misleading marketing and want to warn parents and teachers about it.
I didn’t think I’d have much to say about Disney’s latest live action remake, Snow White, until it actually came out. But unfortunately a new trailer has revealed such substantial changes to the story that I can already say this will have little to do with the beloved folktale recorded by the Brothers Grimm or Disney’s 1937 film, which was groundbreaking not only in its artisty but in its casting choice for the lead role.
In this episode, I briefly show a quotation from filmmaker Dallas Jenkins regarding how to adapt the text of a book into a film. This came from an interview Jenkins participated in on the channel SeanChandlerTalksAbout . You can see the entire interview, which has useful things to say about adapting fiction to the screen, here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZAhix0coMrs
Also in this episode, hear about my upcoming plans for the show as well as the book we’ve been reading this week: I’m Not Santa by Jonathan Allen. My kids found it at the library and they LOVE it. There’s lots of chances to do funny voices and fake crying, and the more dramatic you go the bigger the laughs will be.
As an American who lives in England, I do my best to blend in but am happy to introduce aspects of American culture that will benefit my neighbors. Goldfish Crackers, meat loaf, and baseball have all gone down well, but the more Brits I talk to about Thanksgiving, the more I can see that this country would really benefit from reclaiming a holiday that was, after all, started in part by English citizens.
If you need help getting started with Thanksgiving, I also have two recommendations for lovely children’s books that are about this holiday: The Thanksgiving Story by Alice Dalgliesh with Caldecott Honor winning illustrations by Helen Sewell, as well as Squanto’s Journey by Joseph Bruchac and illustrated by Greg Shed. Both of these books beautifully share a story of brave people who made amazing journeys and helped very different groups of people come together as friends.
The Paddington film franchise is a great example of how it IS possible to take beloved characters from children’s literature and write new adventures for them that remain true to the spirit of the original stories. So how does Paddington in Peru measure up? Is it as good as Paddington 2? How many Snapes does it receive for its faithfulness to the source material? And why will it mean so much to immigrant families like mine?
Also in this episode, I take a moment to explain that although I’ve talked about Taylor Swift on the show a few times with my daughter, this is neither an endorsement nor a rebuke of the artist’s political views. Everything seems to be so political lately, and I often forget this as I am lucky enough to live in an area where people simply don’t talk politics.
Chloë has been enjoying This isn’t What it Looks Like from The Secret Series by Pseudonymous Bosch, and Phoebe found a very sweet Halloween book that the library forgot to put away. It’s called The Pumpkin Who Was Afraid of the Dark and tells the story of a cute little pumpkin named Boo who doesn’t like the spooky parts of Halloween. Although it’s out of season, I think it’s well worth picking up a copy and tucking it away for next year.
In this episode, co-host Chloë tells us about Sapphire Battersea, a book that’s really captured her. She has loved every book that she has ever read by Jacqueline Wilson, and whether this author is tackling grounded, real-world family drama or the more fantastical world of circus sideshows, Chloë has always noticed and latched onto the struggles of children born to working class families.
In the main segment, the film adaptation of the stage musical Wicked will be out in a few days and the marketing push is ON. This movie is several artistic generations removed from The Wonderful Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum. The musical is beloved the world over, but mainly by adults. Will this film bring the story back to families and children? Will the drama around its marketing cause problems? Or is it just too darn long for kids to sit through? Let us know what you think!
Samantha Parkington was the first character that I read about in the American Girls book series. She was introduced when I was a little girl. I grew up on this book series and it has been wonderful to see that my daughter loves them just as much as me. She has her own dolls now, and I’ve been pleasantly surprised to see how well these books help teach about key periods of American history. This is especially important because our family lives in England and we want to stay connected with both of our cultures.
Find out what Chloë noticed about these books, especially the uncomfortable truths about how society treated certain groups of people in 1904. In some ways it’s difficult to see her struggle with the injustice of racism and classism, but at the same time it’s good so see how instinctively she recognizes and rejects these forms of bigotry.
There is a bit of background noise in this episode, which came from Chloë wanting to hold her American Girl dolls while we had our conversation. I never want to prioritize production quality over the enthusiastic participation of my daughter and co-host, so I am sure with this in mind, none of you will mind a few rustling sounds here and there as the dolls are cuddled.
Did you have a Samantha doll or did you read her books? What’s your favorite outfit of hers? What’s your favorite of her adventures?
Also, I wanted to note that our original conversation was much longer. We spent a lot more time discussing issues of race and class than what is presented here. But the conversation was edited down to keep it to the usual show length. I also felt parts of our conversation were very personal, and some moments between parents and children are more special if they are kept private.
Paddington, the beloved creation of author Michael Bond, was recently given a British passport. But . . . how would he have qualified? I speak to my delightful neighbor (ok, let’s spell it neighbour since, after all, I do live in England) Norman, who is a retired immigration judge, about how Paddington might have been able to acquire British citizenship and qualify for a passport. You can see the video version of this part of the show on YouTube:
Thanks for joining in this very silly, very fun conversation, Norman! I really appreciate what a good sport you were and how thoughtfully you researched the topic.
Also in this episode, I reveal big plans for the YouTube channel, both in terms of how to best bring audio and video to you, as well as how I plan to deal with internet nonsense. As always, the happiness and safety of my kids comes first, and for my own part I will respond as little as possible to negativity.
Passing on family traditions is one of the best parts about being a parent. My family celebrated El Día de los Muertos, a tradition I loved as part of growing up in Los Angeles.
Día de los Muertos by Roseanne Greenfield Thong with illustrations by Carles Ballesteros is a much beloved book at my house. My kids often ask to read it even when it’s not near the holiday. But every year on this holiday we read it together before lighting candles and adding personal items to our ofrenda familiar. We tell stories about family members who came before us, keeping their stories and memories alive.
We also eat Pan de Muertos, which is a delicious sweet bread flavored with aniseed and orange. Here’s my recipe. Now, this is just the way I was taught to make it when I was a teenager. I know there are a lot of variations. If your family makes it differently, please share your recipe! And if your Abuelita says that my recipe is wrong . . . she is right. Abuelita is always right. I am wrong. ABUELITA IS RIGHT.
Pan de Muertos
1/2 to 1 tablespoon aniseed
1/4 cup butter
1 teaspoon yeast
3/4 cup milk
1/4 cup sugar
zest from two oranges
1/4 cup orange juice
1/4 teaspoon salt
2 eggs
3.5 to 4 cups white flour
Earlier in the day, melt the butter and add the aniseed. Allow it to soak so the aniseed softens and the flavors begin to come out. Combine the sugar, milk, and yeast and set the mixture aside so the yeast can activate.
Into a mixing bowl, grate the zest of two oranges. Add 1/4 cup of fresh orange juice. Mix in the butter and aniseed, then stir in the yeast. Add 1/4 teaspoon salt and two eggs. Mix thoroughly.
Add 3 to 3 1/2 cups flour. Turn out and knead in more flour until you have a smooth, stretchy dough. Cover and let rise until double.
Cut the dough into four equal portions. Set one aside. Shape the remaining portions into 12 buns (or divide into more if you prefer smaller size buns). Use the remaining portion of dough to shape “bones” by rolling the dough into long, thin strips that are cut to size. If you like, you can also shape a “skull” to go above them.
Bake at 350F/180C for about 15 minutes or until they are golden brown. Brush the tops with a mixture of melted salted butter and a chunky sugar like turbinado or demerarra. (These are also nice brushed with a mixture of orange juice and sugar – do what you like!)
Serve warm while telling stories about loved ones.
I loved Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark as a kid. Alvin Schwartz’ retellings and Stephen Gammell’s bonechilling drawings kept me hypnotized. The excitement and fun of a good scary story has kept these books popular for generations.
My girls like to make their own videos, and this was originally done as a birthday present for my mom. A few friends deemed it too good to hide from the world, which is an opinion I am inclined to agree with. Please enjoy the following performance of “Expectations and Expectorating,” which will no doubt soon be featured on Masterpiece Theatre. The thing is, in many ways the story they came up with was not that far off the mark. Trade the dinosaurs for a catastrophic evening at a public ball and it’s spot on.
Publisher’s Note: While digging a hole in their back garden, two young girls recently discovered a long lost manuscript written by Jane Austen. Their mother was rather annoyed about the hole, but after realizing the importance of their discovery, allowed them to share what they found with the world. Here is an abridgment of the long lost novel by Jane Austen, which bore the title “Expectations and Expectoration.”
Expectations and Expectorating
A long lost tale by “Jane Austen”
It is a truth universally acknowledged that the bond of sisterly affection can never be breached. Unless a really hot guy turns up in the village.
And such was the circumstance when three sisters – Elizabeth, Annabelle, and Chelsea Tuppence – were sitting in the small breakfast room in the comfortable cottage where they lived with their poor widowed mother.
On a fine spring morning, the eldest daughter Annabelle, noted that a fine young gentleman seemed to be riding past their window.
Annabelle set down the very becoming bonnet she was trimming so that she could catch a glimpse of the visitor. He was smoldering with charm as his horse galloped across the picturesque downs, which conveniently had a phony ruined castle on the most charming of the hilltops. With all the sweetness and impulsiveness over her seventeen years, Annabelle declared, “WHOA! He IS fine!”
“Boys are yucky!” Replied Chelsea, who was quite too young to see why fine young men in blue coats were of any use at all.
The stranger begged admittance to the house and announced himself to be Mr. Ashby, the extremely handsome, wealthy, and unmarried nephew of Lady Bigginsworth, who lived down the road at Persnickety Park.
With a very low bow, Mr. Ashby asked how the ladies did.
“Much better now, thank you,” replied Elizabeth. “Would you like some tea?”
“Indeed,” came Mr. Ashby’s eager reply.
The gentleman was so affable that within just a few moments they were all chatting as if they were old friends. They talked about the most interesting subjects; the state of the roads, which books were tedious yet important, and whether or not it might rain later.
Later that evening, the two sisters unburdened their hearts to one another. Dashing about the room in a state of delighted agitation, Annabelle cried out, “I say, Elizabeth, I believe Mr Ashby is in love with me!”
“Dearest sister,” replied the elder Miss Tuppence, “I do believe you are mistaken.” Or rather, this was the reply she intended to make, but rather the words which escaped her lips were, “No, ME!”
Annabelle, with all the passion that a young, beautiful, and economically idle young woman can muster, gasped with dismay and then reasserted her claim on Mr. Ashby’s affections.
What ensued was a rare breach of sisterly affection which left neighboring farmers in no doubt that several cats must have been debating territorial boundaries.
On hearing the distressing state of affairs between the elder Misses Tuppence, Chelsea dashed up the stairs, flung open the bedroom door, and cried out for her dear sisters to stop such a disgraceful display of unsisterly behavior.
“I found this letter,” Chelsea declared, holding an enormous envelope. Inside was a confession which declared Mr. Ashby to be the basest of scoundrels. Although he lived with the appearance of a gentleman of good character, he intended to roam the countryside and steal from young ladies who might fall prey to his handsomeness and smoldering.
“He writes with a very good hand,” observed Annabelle, and Elizabeth had to own that this was true.
“But surely this must be the result of some strange misapprehension,” Elizabeth said in confusion. “For why would Mr. Ashby leave such a confession for us to find?”
“I picked his pocket,” Chelsea explained. “Mr. Ashby is a scoundrel, and he must never be welcome at Tuppence Cottage again.”
“That’s right!” the ladies heard a manly voice declare from outside. They looked out the window and saw Mr. Ashby standing below in the road. “I don’t love either one of you. I’m just here for your money! Ha ha ha ha ha haaaa!”
And with that, he galloped off down the road, having neglected to collect any of the Tuppence family fortune. But, as Elizabeth observed at a later moment of quiet recollection, Mr. Ashby’s marked traits were those of handsomeness and affability, not cleverness.
Yet Elizabeth was to be denied this satisfying contemplation for some time, as she fainted away alongside Annabelle. When the elder Misses Tuppence awoke some moments later, they began weeping. Chelsea, having been unable to move either of her elder sisters, had seated herself between them.
“Don’t worry, girls,” pronounced the youngest Miss Tuppence, “He’s a loser.”
At that very moment the sisters were alerted by a sound which resembled distant thunder. They looked again outside the window.
“My goodness, what’s that?” Elizabeth asked as she attempted to make out what fresh agitation might be coming down the road.
“It’s a a bunch of dinosaurs,” Chelsea observed.
In this moment the three young ladies put aside any past quarrels and poured into one another’s hearts the balm of sisterly affection.
“Sisters,” declared Annabelle, “Now is the time that we shall stick together more than ever before.”
There then ensured a most inconvenient row in the village of Little Wigglesworth. Elizabeth tore a great slit in her new muslin gown while battling not one but two triceratopses, and Annabelle was obliged to strike a T-Rex in the face with her best fan. Chelsea fared somewhat better, managing to befriend an obliging diplodocus and convince it to bear her about on its back. In the end, using their charm, wit, embroidery skills, and excellent moral principles, the Tuppence sisters were victorious. It must be owned, however, that their dear Mama was obliged to come downstairs to help them, which caused great agitation to her nerves.
And from that day the Tuppence sisters lived happily in their quiet little cottage in Devonshire. They had some small regrets that Mr. Ashby had been devoured by a rabid T-Rex, but found consolation in their tea parties, their musical evenings, and living such upright lives as to deny the
neighbors the satisfaction of gossip.
