By Julie Sternberg
I had a nasty August. a really undesirable August. As undesirable as pickle juice on a cookie. As undesirable as a spider net in your leg. As undesirable because the black elements on a banana.I wish your August used to be higher. i actually do. When Eleanor's loved babysitter, Bibi, has to maneuver away to keep up her ill father, Eleanor needs to try and undergo the summer time with no Bibi and get ready for the impending college yr. Her new, less-than-perfect babysitter seriously isn't as much as snuff, and she or he does not look after such things as Bibi used to. yet because the institution yr looms, it is time for brand new beginnings. Eleanor quickly realizes that she is going to continually have Bibi, irrespective of how far-off she is. Written in a lyrical sort with considerate and fascinating illustrations all through, this amazing debut novel tells a poignant tale of friendship and the bittersweet emotions of transforming into up.Praise for Like Pickle Juice on a Cookie“Eleanor’s ingenuous free-verse monologue should still ring a bell with readers, specially those that can have needed to focus on the lack of a friend. Cordell’s halftone cartoons exhibit the story’s pathos and humor, in addition to Eleanor’s changeable moods.” –Publishers Weekly “Cordell’s winsome sketch drawings supplement the textual content with no overcrowding the verse. It tells an easy, poignant tale that would resonate with any baby who has ever needed to say good-bye.” –Booklist “This first novel is a promising debut. Eleanor’s matters, not just approximately her babysitter, but additionally approximately playmates, neighbors and a brand new tuition yr can be ordinary to readers, who will look ahead to listening to extra approximately her life.” –Kirkus Reviews“Sternberg hits the entire correct notes the following, shooting a delicate kid’s first adventure of loss with soft respectfulness and whole acknowledgment that separation is a bereavement too. Sprightly line drawings, with an identical perky homeyness because the tale, upload visible energy.” –Bulletin of the guts for Children’s Books “Heartfelt, obtainable, and energetic…” –Bulletin of the guts for Children’s Books "This heartwarming novel and its winsome cartoon-like illustrations draw readers correct into the tale. childrens may get pleasure from this brief bankruptcy publication as an autonomous learn, however it could even be a very good selection for fogeys to learn to or with their children." –BookPage
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Extra info for Like Pickle Juice on a Cookie
Bibi would always remind me not to swallow the pit. And I never did. I never swallowed a single pit. I didn’t ask my mom if I could have her navy scarf that’s covered with cherries. I just took it and hid it under my pillow and decided to keep it there forever. indd 23 10/12/10 11:21 AM Chapter Nine After her very important call my mom sat on the couch with me and read five whole chapters of a book to me. She didn’t even stop when the phone rang. “We’ll let the machine get it,” she said. And when we got to the happy ending, my mom’s eyes got red and her cheeks got blotchy.
Then I ran to my room and threw aside my pillow and grabbed the cherry scarf, which looked a little crumpled. indd 25 10/12/10 11:21 AM and pulled open the drawer and folded the scarf and slipped it in near the middle of the stack and closed the drawer fast but tried not to slam it and ran back to my mom. I was breathing fast. I tried to stop breathing fast. I tried to look perfectly normal. My mom raised her eyebrows at me. ” she asked. “Nothing,” I said. ” she asked. “I’m sure,” I said. ” It was the perfect distraction.
I knew that. But still. “I won’t like anyone else,” I said. “I understand,” my mom said. “No one in the world is as good as Bibi,” I said. “I know,” my mom said. “But maybe we can find someone who is not too terrible. I heard about someone named Natalie. ” I asked. “We have to,” my mom said. “Fine,” I said. But I didn’t like it. indd 45 10/12/10 11:22 AM Chapter Thirteen Natalie came over that very afternoon. “You keep inviting people without asking me,” I told my dad. But he wasn’t listening.