Kai Strand’s debut mid-grade novel The Weaver is a must read. The story is about Mary Wordsmith, whose wish is to be able to weave a tale just like her mother. Mary is a typical teen who wants to be well liked and respected. In her quest to be like her mother she meets a peculiar blue man who is ready to help her achieve her greatest desire.
Mary, her self-esteem at an all time low, allows the little blue man to talk her into granting her wish. Much to her dismay, things did not turn out in her favor. Mary is baffled when there is no major improvement in her storytelling. She feels betrayed by the blue little man.
Things get even more complex when trinkets start to appear after practicing weaving a story.
You have to read the book to find out what happens to Mary. Will her storytelling improve? Will the trinkets continue to appear? The story held me captive; I had to finish reading the book in one sitting.
Kai Strand is a master at storytelling. Her book is very unique in that adults and children can learn a very valuable lesson. Each one of us is special and we should strive to celebrate and accept each other for who we are. I also loved the way Mary’s friend gives her unrelenting support. We all need friends to support us in the times of our greatest challenges.
Chapbooks for Tweens
Author: Kai Strand www.kaistrand.com
Hardcover ISBN: 978-1-61633-121-4; 1616331216
Paperback ISBN: 9781-61633-122-1; 1616331224
eBook ISBN: 978-1-61633-127-6; 1616331275
A Mother’s Shadow
But grown in shade it is spindly, weak, and off color .
Tucked in a lush valley between two snow-capped mountains was the village of The Tales. Those who lived in the village were known as Weavers. Each person in The Tales could tell stories about anything at anytime, and they often did. Prose, poetry, limericks or yarns; they told stories of all types and styles. “Mother, must I recite today?” Mary grimaced at the thought.
Abigail placed a bunch of fresh spring carrots in Mary’s basket and offered a reassuring smile before turning back to the vegetable displays.
“A child once stood at the side of Main Street watching carts and horses pass her by. On the far side of the street the front window of the candy shop gleamed and beckoned, and her pocket strained with the weight of coins.”
Mary blinked back tears and shifted behind Abigail, who scooped snap peas into a brown bag as she wove her story. A knot of shoppers stopped to listen.
“Yet, the child never ventured across the street for fear of the traffic. Her pocket eventually tore, its contents trampled, kicked and snatched away. And her tongue never knew the sweet salty taste of fresh pulled taffy.” Abigail placed the bag of pea pods in the basket and lovingly lifted Mary’s chin. “You can do it, dear.”
Mary felt sure her mother was oblivious to the appreciative murmurs of the dispersing crowd.