More to the story

Hena Khan

Book - 2019

As features editor of her school newspaper, thirteen-year-old Jameela Pervaiz wants to impress her father by writing a spectacular story about the new student, but a misunderstanding and family illness complicate matters.

Saved in:

Children's Room Show me where

jFICTION/Khan Hena
1 / 1 copies available
Location Call Number   Status
Children's Room jFICTION/Khan Hena Checked In
Subjects
Published
New York : Salaam Reads [2019]
Language
English
Main Author
Hena Khan (author)
Edition
First edition
Physical Description
262 pages ; 22 cm
ISBN
9781481492096
Contents unavailable.
Review by Booklist Review

In her latest novel, Khan (Amina's Voice, 2017) brings readers a charming take on Louisa May Alcott's 1868 classic, Little Women. Things for 13-year-old Jameela are great when she's named features editor of her school newspaper and becomes friends with Ali, who just moved to Georgia from London (dazzling English accent included). But when her dad is sent abroad for work for six months, things for Jameela and her three sisters feel like they're spiraling downhill, especially when one of her sisters falls ill. As her sister's condition worsens, Jameela must learn to curb her short temper to coexist with her sisters, while also learning that even as a journalist, some stories belong only to those who have lived them. Khan's homage to one of her favorite books growing up is engagingly written for a young, new generation. The plot takes a moment to thicken, but when it does, the natural prose and distinctive characters guide it along. Like Little Women, this is a story that is sure to appeal to many.--Mahjabeen Syed Copyright 2010 Booklist

From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review

This contemporary update of Louisa May Alcott's Little Women follows the Muslim, Pakistani-American Mizra family of Atlanta. Narrator Jameela, 13, is thrilled to be named features editor of her school newspaper and endeavors to write a spectacular article as a going-away gift for her father, whose job is sending him overseas for six months. Jam and her sisters--Maryam, Bisma, and Aleeza--are heartbroken to lose Baba for half a year, but the sting is lessened somewhat by the arrival of Ali, 14, the British-Pakistani nephew of Baba's best friend. Ali is spending the year in the U.S. after getting into trouble following his father's death, and he quickly endears himself to the Mizra girls. Jam decides to write her article about microaggressions and unwisely uses examples Ali told her in confidence, endangering their new friendship just as a crisis threatens her family. Khan (Amina's Voice) nimbly incorporates details of modern life and allusions to Alcott's classic--including financial troubles and a health scare--into a tale that is, fittingly, strongest in the moments when family dynamics are on display. Ages 8--12. Agent: Matthew Elblonk, DeFiore & Co. (Sept.)

(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Review by School Library Journal Review

Gr 4--6--The Pakistani American Mirza sisters live in Norcross, GA, and each shares a first initial with one of the March sisters of Louisa May Alcott's Little Women. Jameela, the heroine and narrator, feels less polished than her older sister, Maryam; less virtuous than her younger sister Bisma; and less patient than she should be with Aleeza, the youngest. Jameela is most comfortable in her skin when she's writing, and she plans to publish a story for her school paper that will make her father, who is overseas for a new job, proud. She is also delighted to make friends with Ali, the son of family friends, who has recently moved to Georgia. When Bisma is diagnosed with lymphoma and Jameela breaks Ali's trust after publishing an off-the-record interview, she feels that she is losing her sister and a new friend in addition to her absent father. Jameela is a devoted journalist, and her curious, inquisitive voice makes her an engaging narrator. Simple, straightforward language will be accessible to middle grade readers, and the tone is informative but never didactic on topics such as journalism ethics. This is a positive and loving portrayal of a Muslim family, and details of Pakistani culture and Muslim observance are not given heavy-handed explanations, but are simply included as essential details of the Mirzas' existence. Readers may be inspired to compare notes with Little Women, but can enjoy this without having met the March sisters. VERDICT This thoughtful update of Alcott's classic text features an American Muslim family and deftly balances issues such as microaggressions and cancer treatment with typical middle grade tropes such as sibling rivalry, a first crush, and an early adolescent search for identity.--Lisa Goldstein, Brooklyn Public Library

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

In a novel inspired by Little Women, thirteen-year-old Pakistani American Jameela Mirza, second oldest of four sisters and an aspiring journalist, lives with her family in Atlanta. This Eid holiday has brought changes: their beloved father is missing Eid for the first time ever to look for a new job, and Ali, a (good-looking) nephew of a family friend, arrives from London. At school, Jameela is named newspaper features editor but is in constant conflict with the editor in chief, who never approves her hard-hitting pitches. When her father takes a job overseas, the family is distraught, and Jameela is determined to write an article that will make him proud. Her assigned piece on Ali goes awry, complicating her feelings for him and her journalistic aspirations. But when her younger sister Bisma is diagnosed with cancer, Jameela must reevaluate her priorities and figure out how she can truly support what matters. Khan (Aminas Voice, rev. 3/17) tells the story of a modern-day Pakistani American family while retaining the charm, familial warmth, and appeal of Alcotts classic (this novels first line is, This is the worst Eid ever!). Cultural norms about dating, clothing, food, and prayer in the familys Atlanta community and overseas are subtly alluded to, while characters grow and impart valuable lessons without sounding overly didactic. ariana Hussain September/October 2019 p.90(c) Copyright 2019. 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.
Review by Kirkus Book Review

Four sisters in a Muslim, Pakistani American family star in Khan's (Amina's Voice, 2017) 21st-century update to a beloved classic of American literature.The narrator is Jam (short for Jameela), a seventh grader bent on becoming a journalist. Her family newsletter, Mirza Memos, is all hers, but on the school newspaper she fights to make her voice heard about publishing important subjects. Her older sister, Maryam, is in high school. Maryam's beauty is what people notice, but she is also studious, responsible, and caring. The youngest, Aleeza, brings out the worst of Jam's temper, while gentle Bisma brings out Jam's protective, loving instincts. Exit Baba (their father) for an international work contract; enter Ali, a cute British Pakistani boy who befriends all the girls, but especially Jam. Add money problems and the sudden discovery of a serious illness for Bisma, and you have a carbon copy of Little Women that feels comfortingly familiar yet also entirely new, like an old friend given a makeover. The characters are believable and endearing, and their problems are emotionally weighty. The ways they find to support each other through difficulties, to fight, and to forgive highlight the reasons why Little Women still finds adoring fans. Cultural content such as Jam's article on microaggressions and the Mirza family's no-dating rule (despite Ali's flirtation) add interest as well.A delightful concept well executed, this volume is sure to find many fans. (Fiction. 8-12) Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

More to the Story 1 This is the worst Eid ever!" Aleeza flops onto the sofa and grabs the TV remote. "You'll wrinkle your outfit," Bisma warns. "I don't care," Aleeza says, then quickly adjusts her kameez beneath her. "It doesn't feel like Eid. Baba's not here. We were supposed to leave for the party like an hour ago. And now we're stuck at home, because people are coming over." "Your whining doesn't make it any better," I snap at her. She's right that it's been a pretty disappointing day so far. Baba had to fly out for an interview in Maryland early this morning, before the rest of us went to the mosque for prayers. It's our first Eid without him, and everyone's been on edge. But it's only three o'clock in the afternoon. Maybe things will turn around. "Come on, guys--it's Eid," Bisma pleads. "Can't you be nice to each other today?" "She should be nice. Jam's always mean to me!" Aleeza shakes her finger at me, and her eyes fill up. So much for things turning around. There's no way to sugarcoat it: My youngest sister is spoiled rotten. Aleeza's only ten, but that doesn't stop her from bossing around Bisma, who's a year older than her. And it doesn't matter to her that I'm thirteen and in middle school. Aleeza doesn't respect me like she should. "Jameela!" Mama calls to me from the kitchen. "Can you go down and get the nice napkins? From the garage?" "Okay." I'd rather face the lizards in the garage than listen to Aleeza whine for a second longer. Ever since Bisma saw a baby gecko scamper along the walls and freaked out like it had escaped from Jurassic Park, I'm the only one of us girls who dares to go in there alone. The air inside the garage is suffocating, which isn't surprising, since it feels like five hundred degrees outside. This year Eid fell in August, the hottest month of the summer. Today also happens to be the kind of record-breaking scorcher of a day that earns Atlanta the nickname Hotlanta. The jumbo pack of napkins is on a crowded shelf, next to a box marked "JAMEELA'S STUFF: PRIVATE!!!" where I've stored my old journals and collection of last year's middle school newspapers. I was the only sixth grader who was an assistant editor and had an article in every issue of the paper, so I saved two copies of each. I resist the urge to carry the box inside so I can reread them, savoring each word like I want to. Out of the corner of my eye I spot a lizard, frozen in place near the garage door opener. I decide it's going to be the subject of a future article in the Mirza Memos, the family newspaper I've been writing since I was nine years old. Maybe I'll research whether geckos have ever harmed humans, or how to get over the fear of creatures that resemble tiny alligators. If that includes hypnosis, I hope my sisters will let me try it out on them. I make sure my box isn't at risk of getting crushed by the endless stream of things that flow out of our town house into the garage. Then I grab a stack of napkins and head upstairs to the kitchen. Mama is arranging mini samosas on a platter, while Maryam cuts the raspberry bars she made into neat squares. "Can you put those on the table with this fruit?" Mama's brow furrows as she eyes the simple cotton shalwar kameez I threw on for Eid prayers earlier. "Aren't you going to change into your new clothes?" This morning I hit my snooze button over and over, which left no time to iron the bright green outfit with sparkly gold thread work I'd left crumpled on my floor after trying it on last week. All I needed was a big star on my head, and I would have looked exactly like a walking Christmas tree decorated with tinsel. But since Mama's cousin in Pakistan had sent me the outfit, and because I knew it must have been expensive, I pretended to like it. "Please say you will," Maryam adds. My older sister is elegant in her silvery-gray outfit with black embroidery. Her makeup, perfected after hours of watching tutorials on YouTube, is flawless. She's wearing a high bun, with wisps of loosened hairs that frame her cheekbones. As she bats her dark lashes at me, I squint at her, trying to tell if they're fake. She looks older than fifteen, and is glamorous. "It's too hot for silk. Who's coming over, anyway?" I tuck a curl that escaped my ponytail behind my ear and try not to think about how my rolled-out-of-bed look compares to Maryam's. "Why do we need to impress them with fancy napkins?" "Uncle Saeed. He's bringing his nephew. I'm just trying to make it special for Eid," Mama says. I perk up when I hear "Uncle Saeed." He's Baba's best friend, and our dentist. He's always armed with corny jokes and free toothbrushes. When the doorbell rings, my mother gives me a gentle shove. "Go change your clothes, and fix your hair, please," she urges. "There's a big stain on your kameez." "It's fine," I say as I bound down the stairs for the door. "Uncle Saeed won't care. I'll change before the party." I throw the door open. "Eid Mubarak!" Uncle Saeed declares. He's holding a light blue box in his outstretched arms, and beads of sweat have already formed on his forehead. "Something sugary for the sweetest of days." Uncle often speaks as if he's quoting a Hallmark card. "Eid Mubarak." I take the box and scan the label. Yes! It's from Sugar Kisses Bakery. Mama thinks it's overpriced and refuses to take us there. But when I tried their salted-caramel cupcake at Kayla's birthday party, it was literally one of the best desserts I've ever tasted. "Thank you! Come on in." "Oof. It's too hot today. Eid Mubarak." Farah Auntie manages a weak smile, but her nose wrinkles slightly when she scans my hair and outfit. "Are you feeling okay?" she whispers before hugging me three times, enveloping me in the overpowering scent of her perfume. "Such simple clothes for Eid?" "I'm great." I brush off Auntie's questions, since she's always one to gently point out how I dress too plainly for parties. Or weddings. Or Eid. If I were wearing my tinsel-tree getup, I'm sure I'd hear "Oh mashallah, today you look nice," no matter how uncomfortable or sweaty I felt. I've learned to let her and the other aunties comment about me, and then gush over Maryam. She puts enough effort into dressing up for both of us. Uncle clears his throat. "Jameela, this is my nephew, Ali, from London." A tall boy with curly hair steps out from behind his uncle. I don't know anything about Pakistani fashion, but his crisp blue shalwar kameez with silver buttons isn't like the plain beige- or tan-colored ones Baba and Uncle wear. That, along with the way he's shielding his eyes from the bright light, makes it seem like he could be posing for the cover of my mom's glossy South Asian lifestyle magazine, Libas. I almost want to laugh. "Asalaamualaikum," he says to me, extending his hand like a grown-up, although he can't be much older than me. "Pleasure to meet you." Ali's accent is definitely British, and his voice is deeper than I expected it to be. "Wa . . . waalaikum asalaam," I stammer as his dark eyes pierce mine. Suddenly I have another vision of how disheveled I must appear, and my cheeks heat up from more than the hot sun. I offer a limp handshake, try to cover up the stain on my shirt by folding it over, and gesture toward the stairs. "Come on in. It's a lot cooler inside. Everyone's upstairs," I mumble. "I have to . . . um. I'll be right back. I just have to change and um, get ready." Excerpted from More to the Story by Hena Khan 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.