Eleven-year-old Suzy is proud of her little brother for calling 911 when their neighbor collapses. But after Parker gets a write-up in the paper, a citation, and a ride in the Fourth of July parade, Suzy is ready for everyone to move on already. Then Parker screws up Suzy's birthday: he sees a TV story about a fire and people needing help, so he tries to find them, getting lost in the process. Parker is located, but too late for Suzy's trip to a Phillies' game. So she takes to her room, both literally and literarily; Suzy assumes the persona of recluse Emily Dickinson. Spinelli's free-verse structure may make things easier for reluctant readers, but the breaks occasionally seem awkward. That said, kids, especially those who have had a sibling in the spotlight, will identify with Suzy's feelings. Adventurous readers may want to pursue some of the same paths as Suzy: poetry, Dickinson, the 1800s, and baseball. There are also satisfying relationships between Suzy, her friends, and family. This is a short book where a whole lot happens.--Cooper, Ilene Copyright 2014 Booklist

The summer Suzy Quinn turns twelve provides a natural backdrop for Spinelli's latest verse novel, the epitome of summer escapism -- light, engaging, and easy to read. When Suzy's kindly next-door neighbor has a "spell," Suzy's younger brother, Parker, smartly calls 911 and gets the needed medical help. He immediately becomes a little town hero, but with all the community's accolades, he also becomes a little attention-grabbing monster. In addition, Suzy has a problem with Alison, her BFF since second grade, who talks Suzy into trying out for a local play. Alison gets a part and Suzy doesn't. The one bright spot is thirteen-year-old Gilbert, who may be a good friend and may be a boyfriend; Suzy just doesn't know. When a planned birthday trip to see a Phillies game falls through, it's all too much for Suzy, and she decides to emulate Emily Dickinson. It's tough being a recluse, but with that I'll-cut-off-my-nose-to-spite-my-face conviction that only an almost-twelve-year-old can muster, Suzy becomes Emily: writing letters (unanswered) to her friends; cooking (unsuccessfully); and composing poems ("Time is a worm. / It crawls"). The ending is pat, but gentle rather than simplistic, and the resilience of the characters is nicely understated. betty carter (c) Copyright 2014. The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

Spinelli's third novel in verse (after Summerhouse Time and The Dancing Pancake) explores identity, friends, and family with perception and humor. The fast-moving story is told in the fresh voice of Suzy Quinn, who is jealous of the attention heaped on her four-year-old brother, Parker, after he calls 911 to summon help for an elderly neighbor. Spinelli gives Suzy credible dimension as she reacts to Parker's newfound celebrity ("I really don't know/ how much more/ of this little hero stuff/ I can take") and then to the news that her brother has gone missing, derailing her 12th birthday plans ("What kind of sister am I?/ Mad that Parker is missing/ instead of worried"). Suzy's sense of self is further shaken when she fails to land a role in a play, which leads her to mimic-with amusing vigilance-the lifestyle of Emily Dickinson and shun family and friends. Spinelli tempers Suzy's melancholy with her inadvertent wittiness ("Who could have thought/ being a recluse/ could be so/ exhausting!") to create a thoughtful, reflective story. Art not seen by PW. Ages 8-12. Illustrator's agency: MB Artists. (May) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.

Gr 4-6-After her five-year-old brother has been labeled "a little hero" for making a lifesaving 911 call, Suzy struggles to find relevance in her own life. Bad luck is coloring her whole summer, and she responds by emulating the day-to-day life of Emily Dickinson, whom she has been researching for her library project. The old tomboy Suzy loved baseball, riding her bike, and engaging in friendships with people of all ages and interests. As Emily, she wears only long white dresses, never leaves the house, and tries to find meaning in the domestic arts. Being Emily proves to be more challenging than Suzy ever imagined, and eventually she's not sure how to start being herself again. Spinelli sensitively explores the complexity of Suzy's feelings during a challenging time in her life. Middle-grade readers will relate to her familial frustrations, as well as her growing self-awareness and its impact on social dynamics. Spinelli's novel-in-verse approach creates a gentle, quiet atmosphere for this contemplative novel, though the verse is more successful in tone than as poetry. The condensed format makes it an excellent choice for reluctant readers.-Juliet Morefield, Multnomah County Library, OR (c) Copyright 2014. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

IN THE DAILY lives of most American children today, poetry has gone missing. Almost entirely absent from elementary school curriculums, rarely chosen as bedtime reading by parents, poetry - formerly a joyful accouterment of youth, an inexhaustible gift - seems forgotten. Yet poetry and children belong together. And who, among the great American poets, could be more appropriate for childhood than Emily Dickinson? Two fine new children's books, Eileen Spinelli's "Another Day as Emily," illustrated by Joanne Lew-Vriethoff, and Burleigh Mutén's "Miss Emily," illustrated by Matt Phelan, strive to create, by very different means and with different results, a sense of the poet Emily Dickinson as a person. Spinelli sets her story in contemporary rural Pennsylvania, where an 11-year-old named Suzy Quinn pretends for a while to be Dickinson. The poet is mentioned first only about half-way through the book, but with uncanny subtlety Spinelli manages to evoke her throughout. Mutén, on the other hand, chooses 19th-century Amherst, Mass., as her setting and reveals a child-friendly side of Dickinson that is well documented but little evinced by her verse. Both books boast first-person narration by child characters. Suzy, Spinelli's preadolescent narrator, has been upstaged by her 4 ½-year-old brother, who dialed 911 when their elderly neighbor Mrs. Harden fainted; he is now a local hero. Suzy initially treats him with patience, but her tolerance wears down as his swagger persists. She craves escape. In a summer library program called Tween Time, she and her best friend are asked to study a "famous" person "from the 1800s." Suzy selects Emily Dickinson. After reading, she bikes to Goodwill to purchase three white dresses and, impersonating the poet, co-opts her mysterious reclusiveness so as to evade not only her brother but the world that lionizes him. Trading on the coincidence that Dickinson's sister-in-law and close friend was named Susan, kindly old Mrs. Harden persuades Suzy finally to relinquish her self-imposed isolation. She gives Suzy the letter-poem "Be Sue While I Am Emily," and Spinelli, without citing for her child readers all the conflicted ambivalence of Dickinson's relations with her sister-in-law, remarkably transforms it for her own narrative purposes into Suzy's inner conflict between wanting and not wanting to return to her ordinary normal life. A child's perspective shines through "Another Day as Emily." Told in paragraph-long verse (reminiscent in length of much of Dickinson's work), the story reads like poems run together. Taut, fast-paced, economical, devoid of sham, Spinelli's book echoes Dickinson's own deceptive simplicity. When, again because of her little brother, Suzy's longed-for birthday celebration at a Phillies game fails, my own sense of disappointment sent me straight back to age 12. In Mutén's "Miss Emily," also in verse, Dickinson invites several Amherst children to sneak out at midnight and watch a circus train arrive. She assumes the name Prosperina, "Queen of the Night"; the children become Gypsies; adventures ensue. Mutén's consciously mannered style ("Father put his hand atop her shoulder/and sternly fixed his gaze on me") lends the story a quaint tone. Dickinson seems oddly charming, her whimsy leavened by warmth and appealing humor. "Miss Emily" and "Another Day as Emily" work as introductions to the poet's eccentric persona, yet a golden opportunity is lost: Not one of Dickinson's poems is printed in full in either book. Readers will learn that Dickinson had a dog called Carlo. But will they find out "the wind tapped like a tired man," or "the moon was but a chin of gold" or in autumn "the berry's cheek is plumper" and "the rose is out of town"? Perhaps these books will lead children to poetry, but the authors have chosen an indirect route. The illustrations in both books are well suited to the spare text: Phelan and Lew-Vriethoff wisely choose line drawing and grisaille; both eschew color. This is as it should be, when feeling comes through words. ELLEN HANDLER SPITZ writes frequently about children's literature for The New Republic online and is the author, most recently, of "Illuminating Childhood."