You guys know about me and my book club.

Well, one of the ladies in my club needs help. I’m coming up empty, so I thought I’d see what you guys have to say.

She is looking for a group of books written by a Jewish author, and dealing with Jewish themes — but they have to be age appropriate for a 13-year-old girl. Yep, this is going to be a Bat Mitzvah present.

I’m poring over Flashlight Worthy Books (for whom my own lists are long overdue. Eep!), and so far, all I’ve come up with is The Book Thief, Marcus Zusak’s hit novel.

What else would you suggest? They don’t have to be Holocaust-themed. In fact, the broader we can go, the better.

And… for my Thirteen this week, let’s see if we can make a list of 13 or more books!

I’ll update the list as you guys suggest and discuss in the comments. Thanks!

My friend Melisa suggested All-of-a-Kind Family, written by Sydney Taylor.

Laura from I’m Booking It suggested Chaim Potok, especially Zebra and Other Stories

Janet reminded me to think of the most obvious: The Diary of Anne Frank

Harriet says her daughter suggests some of the American Girl books. She suggested Lindsey, but there’s also Rebecca.

Jade at Brainripples suggested poet Tracy Koretsky. (Although Ms. Korestky herself isn’t so sure she’d be a good choice — read the comments!)

Susan Bearman dropped in with a ton of links. Ready?

The Skokie Public Library has a great-looking list. My own wishlist just grew when I looked this over!

Jane Yolen’s The Devil’s Arithmetic is another suggested read. My book club read this — and it’s also used in my local elementary school for the advanced readers who are pulled into a fifth-grade book club that’s led by one of our Gifted teachers. I know my friend’s aware of this one.

TK Welsh wrote The Unresolved (there’s no link at Powells.com. Thanks to Susan Bearman for the link!)

Avi is a very famous Jewish writer. I’ve got a copy of City of Light, City of Dark here, in fact.

Carol Matas specializes in Holocaust and WWII fiction for middle grades and young adults.

Julia suggested one of my all-time favorites, The River Midnight.

Now, THIS is cool. Tracy Koretsky (see above!) suggested a book, herself! It’s called Marcello in the Real World and was written by Francis Stork. I can’t find a link at Powells, so if you have any information…

And here’s a list from my friend Mari Blaser, whose blog I really need to add to the sidebar so I can find it to link to it properly… she was Tweeting for me and this is what she turned up:

Michele, @banana_the_poet : Mr Rosenblum Dreams in English/Mr Rosenblum’s List – by Natasha Solomons

Donna, @Donna_Carrick :every book by Sylvia Maultash Warsh, especially “Season Of Iron“. Not 100% sure ok for teen.

Lynette, @LynetteBenton: “Diary of Anne Frank” (note from me: link’s above)

Monica, @lil_monmon :”Number the Stars“, by Lois Lowry

J. Sterling @JSterlingS and @4evermore: “The Chosen“, by Chaim Potok.

Patricia recommended Geraldine Brooks’ People of the Book. I’ve read this one; it might be too adult. But then again, it might not be…

Alice Rene popped up over at GoodReads to suggest her own memoir, Becoming Alice.

**As a reminder, the book links take you to Powells.com, where I am an affiliate. Any pennies earned will be turned back to you guys in the form of books!

 

This negotiation shouldn’t have had to happen, Kerri thought, crossing her arms over her chest and giving the bodyguard her best sulky look. She was the client. He was supposed to be serving her, not dictating where she could and couldn’t ride her bike.

Hell, it wasn’t even a negotiation. Just a body guard laying down the law.

“No one wants you to turn up dead,” Gene said. He slumped in his chair and unbuttoned the cargo pocket on his pantleg, pulling out what looked like a random romance novel. Kerri knew better. There was nothing random about Gene’s romances.

Clearly, she realized as he curled the cover back and started reading, the conversation had ended. Somehow, she’d lost. No more riding her bike all over town, at least not without Gene. Maybe, she thought, Tony would hire someone new to be her bodyguard. Someone who rode bikes.

Gene was kind, almost doting, when he brought her to Fit Riverview and showed her how to set up a spin bike. He made a point of bringing over the instructor as soon as she walked in the room and introducing her to Kerri — who wasn’t surprised when Gene asked her to be low-key about who Kerri really was.

“Not a problem,” she said. She had a brusque way about her that made Kerri think she was annoyed by the request. Then again, this was Fit Riverview. Everyone who was anyone worked out here, including people with bigger names than Kerri Voss.

Hmm, Kerri thought as she stepped up onto the bike and tried to get comfortable. The handlebars were too far away, compared to her bike at home. No brakes, no gears. Just a knob.

At least pedaling was the same.

The class had a neat ebb and flow to it, Kerri thought as she followed along. Hands here, stand there, and pedal, pedal, pedal. The room was dark and the fans maybe sort of moved the quickly-heating air around.

Biking outside was more fun — until the instructor started playing air guitar. A few of the women near the front piped up and volunteered to be backup singers. As they pedaled away, they shimmied their upper bodies, did the hand motions to the old-time Motown song.

“And Gene?” the instructor asked. “Bodyguard duty?”

“You betcha!” he called over the noise of the rap or hip-hop or whatever was just starting. Kerri wasn’t sure she could make it to the end of this song without hurting someone. Gene was on top of her list.

He caught Kerri’s eye. He winked and mimicked an air guitar.

She shook her head, unable to stay angry with him. Everyone wanted to be a rock star — everyone but her and Gene.

They knew better. They were close enough to the real things to know what it was really like. So much more than air guitar and shimmying shoulders.

Kerri envied her classmates their freedom. She closed her eyes and pedaled some more, wishing she could pedal right out of the studio and onto the street.

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This was my first stab at Three Word Wednesday. And, of course, is part of the Weekend Writer’s Retreat. All these fun writing sites these days!

 

Welcome to all the cool folk looking for my mini-interview with David Grant, author of Rock Stars. It’s over at Rocks ‘n Reads, my book-oriented blog, so head on over and join the party!

 

I’ve had a week where it seems as if everything has inspired me somehow. Here’s a partial list:

1. Janet
2. the punching bag in the back seat of the car I parked next to
3. my pillow
4. Boot camp today
5. A bag of Goldfish crackers (wait. That inspired the cat. To eat them. Same for the spaghetti sauce. And popcorn.)
6. The NHL playoffs
7. Mary
8. My bicycle
9. This book I’m reading (Greg Mortenson’s Three Cups of Tea)
10. Opening my PO Box
11. Celtic Librarian
12. The couch in my family room
13. A cool spring evening spent on a soccer field

Ahh, to have the proper time to work this into fiction now…

 

I found this cool chick online: the LA Stylist Mom. I wish you’d all buy more copies of my books so I can afford to have her come fix my fashion issues, which are many (and which I mentioned during this guest blog post I wrote a little bit ago).

Check out these earrings! I don’t wear studs much because my second piercing is too close to the first, but man, I might take out my favorite pink ESP guitars for these babies.

And then there’s Martha Rotten. I drool. I covet. I wish I could have professional pictures taken and a free something from Martha so I could wear it in the pictures. I wish I could walk into my kids’ school with some of her jewelry on; the staff knows me too well to be scared by it. So do the kids. The parents, however, I think get their cheap thrills from being scared of me.

Ahhh…. on I dream. Of fashion. My tastes sure have changed since the days of prairie skirts, but hey. I’m cooler than prairie skirts now!

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