Somewhere, deep inside of himself, he knows it. It should be just another day in Hokey Pokey. And the reason for it is one of the strongest works of children's fiction I have ever had the sheer joy to encounter. So it is that I stand before you with this book in my hand and admit with a little trepidation that it finally happened. I didn't expect to get swept up in the metaphor/allegory/what-the-heck-is-this-thing? that is Hokey Pokey itself. I didn't expect to find a book that does everything Peter Pan is reputed to do, but without the creepy factor. But while I knew this was a high-caliber Spinelli project I probably just thought it would mean reading something like Maniac Magee 2: The Mageeing or something along those lines. Enough smart folks in the field had been touting and hooting the name of this book ad nauseam to make me ad nauseous.

It wasn't that my expectations were low, necessarily. So mine was probably the ideal state in which to encounter a book like Hokey Pokey. Pull out names like Wringer or Milkweed or Loser and watch as my eyes oh-so-faintly glaze over as I think of what I'll be cooking dinner tonight or what television shows are clogging up the old DVR. Stargirl? Certainly well written but not my cup of tea. Maniac Magee? Nice enough book that did nothing for me. Some authors you love, some authors you loathe, and some you feel zip, zero, zilch feelings towards whatsoever. And yeah, there are spoilers lurking in here.

Jake and Lily by Jerry Spinelli