Pam Muñoz Ryan

Aboy journeys to self-discovery through the power of stories and traditions.

Eleven-year-old Maximiliano Córdoba is ready for an idyllic summer. He plans to work hard as a builder for his father and train for fútbol tryouts. Plus, Max hopes dad will take him to visit the towering ruins of La Reina Gigante, a haunted hideout used in the past by the Guardians to hide refugees as they fled Abismo, a war-torn, neighboring dictatorship. However, when Max must provide his birth certificate to show more join the team, he feels his dream summer crumble away. The document disappeared years ago, along with his mother, the woman with whom Max shares “leche quemada” eyes. Soon, Papá leaves on a three-week journey to request a new one, and Max finds himself torn between two desires: to know the truth about why his mother left when he was a baby and to make the team. As Max discovers the enchanting stories his grandfather has been telling him for years have an actual foothold in reality, he must choose between his own dreams and those of others. Kirkus Prize winner Ryan (Echo, 2015) beautifully layers thought-provoking topics onto her narrative while keeping readers immersed in the story’s world. Although set in the fictional country of Santa Maria, “somewhere in the Américas,” the struggles of refugee immigrants and the compassion of those who protect the travelers feel very relevant.

This tightly packed, powerful fantasy contains resonant truths. (Fantasy. 7-14)

-Kirkus Review show less

Rosa María prepares for her granddaughter Catalina's seventh birthday celebration in this amusing picture-book from author Pam Muñoz Ryan and illustrator Joe Cepeda. Checklist in hand, she creates the delicious food, purchases the necessary gift and piñata with candy, and makes the house ready. Every day, finding the mousetraps she has set are missing, she sets a new one, thinking she forgot the day before. But then, when she does forget something - to put the candy in the piñata - she show more finds that it has been done for her. Could it be that she has remembered her own mother's saying - "When there's room in the heart, there's room in the house, except for a mouse" - incorrectly...?

A sweet story about a loving grandmother and family matriarch and her preparations for a large family gathering, Mice and Beans pairs an entertaining text and bright, colorful illustrations. The text is mostly in English, with a smattering of Spanish words that are glossed at the rear. The contrast between the story, which is told from Rosa María's perspective, and the artwork, which depicts the mice that live in her house, and observe everything she does, creates a humorous reading experience, and the conclusion, in which she decides that there is room in her house for some murine residents, is heartwarming. That said, although I do appreciate the message here about generosity and tolerance, a part of my adult self simply couldn't stomach the idea of accepting mice (or any other rodent) being around one's food. Perhaps this is because I live in an area overrun by the little things. I'm all for anthropomorphic mouse (and even rat) tales, but this one was a little uncomfortable. Leaving that aside, it is a sweet grandmother story, and is one I would recommend (with the caveat that if you find the idea of mice around your food unappealing, you might want to give it a miss) to readers looking for picture-books featuring Mexican-American families, birthdays, and family get-togethers. show less

An inventive structure weaves a strand of fairy tale through three separate historical fiction stories that are connected by a special harmonica. Friedrich Schmidt, a boy with a birthmark and dreams of conducting an orchestra, flees Germany in 1933 as the Nazis rise to power; piano-loving Mike Flannery does everything he can think of to protect his little brother, Frankie, in an orphanage in Pennsylvania in 1935; and Ivy Maria Lopez tries to keep her family and herself together with music in show more Southern California in 1942 after her brother enlists in the army.

Each young character faces unfairness and hardship; each remains steadfast and treasures his/her connection to music. All three characters come together at the end, and the ending is what makes Echo firmly children's/YA; each section before the last ends in an ominous fashion, and the reader may assume the worst, but this is no Bridge to Terabithia - happy endings abound.

Quotes

"Music is a universal language. A universal religion of sorts....Music surpasses all distinctions between people." (Friedrich's father, 86)

"Everybody has a heart. Sometimes you gotta work hard to find it." (Mouse to Mike, 229)

"Everyone needs to fight for someone..." (Kenneth Yamamoto to Ivy's papa, 532)

...learning to hope for the best and that no matter how much sadness there is in life, there are equal amounts of maybe-things'll-get-better-someday-soon. (Mike, 566)

Your fate is not yet sealed.
Even in the darkest night, a star will shine,
a bell will chime, a path will be revealed. (6, 7, 8, 587) show less

I wanted to like this book; I really did. And there were parts about it -- the opening "frame" story, for instance, as well as quite a bit of Ivy's story -- that I did really like. But most of it was just aggravating. The author seems to have very little faith in (or respect for) her reader. Every emotion a character might have is spelled out, every nuance is hammered home. Every loose end is tied up in a little bow. You are left nothing of interest to think about for yourself. There's no show more reason kids' books have to be this way; it's insulting to the intelligence of the average 10-year-old, much less anyone older than that.

I managed to finish this book, but it's going to take an awful lot to get me to pick up another from the same author. show less