Rain reign

Review by New York Times Review

AUTISM HAS COME of age, rapidly growing into a matter of common knowledge. Who doesn't now know that this condition is framed by a wide spectrum, or that diagnosed cases continue to rise? With one in 68 children affected, tens of millions in the United States know someone, or of someone, on the spectrum. Those who don't can watch Sheldon's autistic-like behaviors on CBS's "The Big Bang Theory." What might be called "autism lit" has evolved, as well, with novels and nonfiction showcasing autism's piquant and painful weave of deep weaknesses and subtle, splintered strengths. Now, Ann M. Martin, a Newbery Honor winner, offers this affecting, elegantly burnished middle-grade book about a girl with autism. Though I'm not sure age subcategories are pertinent. If you can read, you'll love this book. The narrator, a fifth grader named Rose, has a passion for the homonym - a word that sounds just like another word (it's right there in the rather clunky title). She lives in upstate New York with her volatile, intermittently employed father, has a kind uncle who drives her to school, and loves that "the word 'pair' implies two but is part of a homonym trio - pair, pear and pare." The plot takes off as Rose's father says they can keep a collarless dog he found in a downpour. A rule-follower like many kids on the spectrum, Rose asks if they should look for the owners; her father responds, "If they didn't care enough to get her a collar then they don't deserve her." When Rose asks if the dog is "a gift" her father answers: "Yes, she's a gift, Rose. She's my gift to you." The child never gets gifts from her often drunken father, who has cared for her in dispiriting penury since her mother left them long ago. Father and daughter, of course, are strays as well, and what unfolds is a kind of modern-day fable, dealing with some of the thorniest problems that cripple society and those who live on its well-worn edges. The damp, shaking animal, whom Rose names Rain, blossoms under her loving care, becoming the face-licking soul mate to a child who has not a single friend. She's lonely but unable to connect with peers - a tough, underrecognized truth for many kids on the autism spectrum. The deftness with which Martin renders Rose's life is admirable - from the special-needs aide who sits by her side in class and pulls her into the hall for timeouts, to the classmates who manage only glancing, often comical interactions with the math whiz who blurts out rules (when others break them) and recites prime numbers to restore her balance. And yet the book isn't actually about autism, or even any coming-of-age theme. It's about love and fealty, fear, hope, the release from burdens, and what kids - all kids - need but often don't get. As in all the best fiction, Martin's plot throws the reader into confusion right beside the characters. Just try this one out: As the father turns frighteningly angry and Rose holds on to her only companion, Rain, for dear life, the child discovers that many dogs carry a microchip in case they run off without their collar. Does our 11-year-old rule-follower try to return the dog and give up her only joy; or does she hold tight to this furry somebody dropped in her lap by a world that has denied her almost everything? Read and find out, but don't take this book anywhere you wouldn't want to have a sudden burst of tears. Or, for that matter, a wash of warm recognition that we all - the poor and neurologically challenged, too - can find a way to the sunlight. RON SUSKIND, the author of "Life, Animated: A Story of Sidekicks, Heroes and Autism," directs Harvard's Project on Public Narrative.

Copyright (c) The New York Times Company [November 2, 2014]

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Review by Booklist Review

*Starred Review* Rose, a fifth-grader who has been diagnosed with Asperger syndrome, is often teased at school about her obsession with homonyms and her steadfast conviction that everyone should follow the rules at all times. Rose lives with her harsh, troubled father, but it's Uncle Weldon who cares for her in the ways that matter most. Still, her father did give her Rain, a stray dog that comforts and protects Rose. After Rain is lost in a storm and recovered, Rose learns that her dog has an identification microchip. Though she fully grasps what that means, Rose is driven by the unwavering belief that she must follow the rules, find Rain's former owners, and give the dog back to them. Simplicity, clarity, and emotional resonance are hallmarks of Rose's first-person narrative, which offers an unflinching view of her world from her perspective. Her outlook may be unconventional, but her approach is matter-of-fact and her observations are insightful. Readers will be moved by the raw portrayal of Rose's difficult home life, her separation from other kids at school, and her loss of the dog that has loved her and provided a buffer from painful experiences. A strong story told in a nuanced, highly accessible way.--Phelan, Carolyn Copyright 2014 Booklist

From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.

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Review by Publisher's Weekly Review

Starred Review. Rose Howard is a high-functioning autistic fifth-grader, and her preoccupation with homophones, her insistence on rules being followed to the letter of the law, and her difficulties reading social cues and understanding emotions are giving her trouble at school and frustrating her impatient and often angry single father. Rose's own feelings of anxiety and worry are viscerally felt when her dog, Rain, gets lost after a storm wreaks havoc in her small New York town. As Rose's sense of order is disrupted by floods, uprooted trees, and destroyed buildings, she methodically follows a plan to bring Rain home, though things don't go as expected. Newbery Honor author Martin (A Corner of the Universe) is extremely successful in capturing Rose's perspective and personality; Rose can't always recognize when she is being treated unkindly (it's no rare occurrence), but readers will see what she is up against, as well as the efforts of those who reach out to her. Filled with integrity and determination, Rose overcomes significant obstacles in order to do what is right. Ages 9-12. Agent: Amy Berkower, Writers House. (Oct.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.

(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved

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Review by School Library Journal Review

Gr 4-6-Because she has Asperger's syndrome, Rose Howard is obsessed with homonyms, rules, and order. She has a hard time containing her emotions and a teacher's aid must sit with her during class. Dealing with her condition is difficult for Rose's father, who is raising her alone, but thanks to her dog, Rain, a caring uncle, and a new friend, Rose may just find the strength to be her very best self. Laura Hamilton takes on the challenging role of Rose without missing a beat. She puts just the right pauses in her speech as she struggles to make herself understood and takes on a slightly robotic tone each time Rose comes across a homonym and must carefully repeat each of the words. Her matter-of-fact yet youthful tone is perfect, and her use of pitch emphasizes each time Rose becomes upset or frustrated. Hamilton also is able to expertly use a lower range for Rose's emotionally distant father and her uncle. VERDICT This is an ideal family listen about the power of family and the bond between a girl and her dog.-Shari Fesko, Southfield Public Library, MI (c) Copyright 2015. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

(c) Copyright Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

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Review by Horn Book Review

Eleven-year-old Rose's "official diagnosis is high-functioning autism." She lives with her single dad, who does not have the resources, material or emotional, to be a parent. At school she is laughed at by her classmates. Her life works, but just barely. Uncle Weldon has her back; she is soothed by her ongoing collection of homonyms; and, best of all, she has Rain, her dog. This fragile contentment is shattered by Hurricane Susan, during which Rain disappears. A bad dad, a missing dog--this could be a tearjerker. It isn't. Rose is a character we root for every step of the way. She is resilient, honest, and, in her own odd way, very perceptive; a most reliable narrator. The plot here is uncontrived, the resolution completely earned, and the style whole-grain simple until it blossoms into a final sentence of homonymic joy: "I stand up, then squint my eyes shut for (fore/four) a moment, remembering the night (knight) with Uncle Weldon when music soared (sword) through (threw) the air (heir), and the notes and the sky and our (hour) hearts were one (won)." sarah ellis (c) Copyright 2014. The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

(c) Copyright The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

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Review by Kirkus Book Review

A story about honorable living in the autistic-narrator genre that sets the bar high. Rose has a diagnosis of Asperger's, and her world of comforting homonyms, rules and prime numbers is repeatedly challenged by social interactions of which she has no innate understanding. Newbery Honor author Martin crafts a skillful tale that engages readers' sympathy for everyone portrayed in the story, even Rose's garage-mechanic, hard-drinking single father. He has given Rose a stray dog he found after an evening of drinking at the local bar, and Rose names her Rain. Through touching and funny scenes at schoolwhere Rose has an aide but is in a regular classroomand discomfiting scenes at home, readers come to understand how Rose's close relationship to Rain anchors her. But Rain goes missing during a storm, and when, with the help of her sympathetic uncle, Rose finds her dog weeks later, she is told that Rain was microchipped and actually belongs to someone else. Since following rules is vital to Rose, she must find Rain's original owners and give her dog back. Martin has penned a riveting, seamless narrative in which each word sings and each scene counts. There is no fluff here, just sophisticated, emotionally honest storytelling. (Fiction. 8-12) Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

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1 Who I Am--A Girl Named Rose (Rows) I am Rose Howard and my first name has a homonym. To be accurate, it has a homophone , which is a word that's pronounced the same as another word but spelled differently. My homophone name is Rows. Most people say homonym when they mean homophone . My teacher, Mrs. Kushel, says this is a common mistake. "What's the difference between making a mistake and breaking a rule?" I want to know. "Making a mistake is accidental. Breaking a rule is deliberate." "But if--" I start to say. Mrs. Kushel rushes on. "It's all right to say 'homonym' when we mean 'homophone.' That's called a colloquialism." "'Breaking' has a homonym," I tell her. "'Braking.'" I like homonyms a lot. And I like words. Rules and numbers too. Here is the order in which I like these things: 1. Words (especially homonyms) 2. Rules 3. Numbers (especially prime numbers) I'm going to tell you a story. It's a true story, which makes it a piece of nonfiction. This is how you tell a story: First you introduce the main character. I'm writing this story about me, so I am the main character. My first name has a homonym, and I gave my dog a homonym name too. Her name is Rain, which is special because it has two homonyms--rein and reign. I will write more about Rain in Chapter Two. Chapter Two will be called "My Dog, Rain (Reign, Rein)." Something important about the word write is that it has three homonyms--right, rite, and wright. That's the only group of four homonyms I've thought of. If I ever think of another four-homonym group, it will be a red-letter day. I live with my father, Wesley Howard, and neither of his names has a homonym. From our porch you can see our front yard and our driveway and our road, which is called Hud Road. Road has two homonyms--rowed and rode. On the other side (sighed) of the road is a little forest, and through the trees you can see the New York Thruway. The word see has a homonym--sea. But even better, sees has two homonyms--seas and seize. I'm in fifth grade at Hatford Elementary. There's only one elementary school in Hatford, New York, and only one fifth-grade classroom in the school, and I'm in it. Most of my classmates are ten years old or about to turn eleven. I'm almost twelve because no one is sure what to do with me in school. I've stayed back for two semesters, which is a total of one year. (1/2 + 1/2 = 1.) Some of the things I get teased about are following the rules and always talking about homonyms. Mrs. Leibler is my aide and she sits with me in Mrs. Kushel's room. She sits in an adult-size chair next to my fifth-grade-size chair and rests her hand on my arm when I blurt something out in the middle of math. Or, if I whap myself in the head and start to cry, she'll say, "Rose, do you need to step into the hall for a moment?" Mrs. Leibler tells me that there are things worth talking about besides homonyms and rules and prime numbers. She encourages me to think up conversation starters. Some conversation starters about me that do not have anything to do with homonyms or rules or prime numbers are: I live in a house that faces northeast. (After I say that, I ask the person I'm trying to have a conversation with, "And which direction does your house face?") Down the road, 0.7 miles from my house is the J & R Garage, where my father sometimes works as a mechanic, and 0.1 miles farther along is a bar called The Luck of the Irish, where my father goes after work. There is nothing between my house and the J & R Garage except trees and the road. (Tell me some things about your neighborhood.) I have an uncle named Weldon, who is my father's younger brother. (And who else is in your family?) My official diagnosis is high-functioning autism, which some people call Asperger's syndrome. (Do you have a diagnosis?) I will finish up this part of my introduction by telling you that my mother does not live with my father and me. She ran away from our family when I was two. Therefore, the people living in my house are my father and me. The dog living in our house is Rain. Uncle Weldon lives 3.4 miles away on the other side of Hatford. The next part of my introduction is the setting of my story. I've already told you my geographic location--Hud Road in Hatford, New York. The historical moment in time in which this story begins is October of my year in fifth grade. Now I will tell you something troubling about fifth grade. It isn't as troubling as what happens later in the story when my father lets Rain outside during a hurricane, but it is still troubling. For the first time in my life I'm being sent home with weekly progress reports that I have to give to my father. The reports are written by Mrs. Leibler and read and signed by Mrs. Kushel, which is my teachers' way of saying that they're in agreement about my behavior. The reports list all of my notable behaviors for Monday through Friday. Some of the comments are nice, such as the ones about when I participate appropriately in a classroom discussion. But most of the comments make my father slam the reports onto the table and say, "Rose, for god's sake, keep your mouth closed when you think of a homonym," or, "Do you see any of the other kids clapping their hands over their ears and screaming when they hear the fire alarm?" In the last report Mrs. Leibler and Mrs. Kushel asked my father to schedule monthly meetings with them. Now he's supposed to go to Hatford Elementary on the third Friday of every month at 3:45 p.m. to discuss me. This is what he said when he read that: "I don't have time for meetings. This is way too much trouble, Rose. Why do you do these things?" He said that at 3:48 p.m. on a Friday when there was no work for him at the J & R Garage. Uncle Weldon heard about the monthly meetings on October 3rd at 8:10 in the evening when he was visiting my father and Rain and me. My father was standing at the front door, holding the letter in his hand and gazing out at the trees and the darkness. "These meetings are crap," he said. Uncle Weldon, who was sitting at the Formica kitchen table with me, looked at my father from under his eyelashes and said, "I could go, if you want." Uncle Weldon has a very soft voice. My father whipped around and pointed his finger at Weldon. "No! Rose is my responsibility. I can take care of things." Weldon lowered his head and didn't answer. But when my father turned around so that he was facing outside again, my uncle held up two crossed fingers, which was his signal to me that everything would be all right (write, rite, wright). I held up my fingers too (two, to), and we each touched our hearts with them. After that, Rain came into the kitchen and sat on my feet for a while. Then my uncle left. Then my father crumpled the letter from Mrs. Leibler and Mrs. Kushel and tossed it into the yard. That is the end of the introduction to me. Copyright © 2014 by Ann M. Martin Excerpted from Rain Reign by Ann M. Martin All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.

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