Raymie Nightingale

Raymie Nightingale

by Kate DiCamillo
Raymie Nightingale

Raymie Nightingale

by Kate DiCamillo

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Overview

A 2016 National Book Award Finalist!

Two-time Newbery Medalist Kate DiCamillo returns to her roots with a moving, masterful story of an unforgettable summer friendship.

Raymie Clarke has come to realize that everything, absolutely everything, depends on her. And she has a plan. If Raymie can win the Little Miss Central Florida Tire competition, then her father, who left town two days ago with a dental hygienist, will see Raymie's picture in the paper and (maybe) come home. To win, not only does Raymie have to do good deeds and learn how to twirl a baton; she also has to contend with the wispy, frequently fainting Louisiana Elefante, who has a show-business background, and the fiery, stubborn Beverly Tapinski, who’s determined to sabotage the contest. But as the competition approaches, loneliness, loss, and unanswerable questions draw the three girls into an unlikely friendship — and challenge each of them to come to the rescue in unexpected ways.


Product Details

ISBN-13: 9780763687083
Publisher: Candlewick Press
Publication date: 04/12/2016
Sold by: Barnes & Noble
Format: eBook
Lexile: 550L (what's this?)
File size: 2 MB
Age Range: 10 - 14 Years

About the Author

About The Author
Kate DiCamillo is one of America’s most beloved storytellers. She was the National Ambassador for Young People’s Literature and is a two-time Newbery Medalist. Born in Philadelphia, she grew up in Florida and now lives in Minneapolis, where she faithfully writes two pages a day, five days a week.

The theme of hope and belief amid impossible circumstances is a common thread in much of Kate DiCamillo’s writing. In her instant #1 New York Times bestseller The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane, a haughty china rabbit undergoes a profound transformation after finding himself facedown on the ocean floor—lost, and waiting to be found. The Tale of Despereaux—the Newbery Medal–winning novel that later inspired an animated adventure from Universal Pictures—stars a tiny mouse with exceptionally large ears who is driven by love to become an unlikely hero. And The Magician’s Elephant, an acclaimed and exquisitely paced fable, dares to ask the question, What if?

Kate DiCamillo’s own journey is something of a dream come true. After moving to Minnesota from Florida in her twenties, homesickness and a bitter winter helped inspire Because of Winn-Dixie—her first published novel, which, remarkably, became a runaway bestseller and snapped up a Newbery Honor. “After the Newbery committee called me, I spent the whole day walking into walls,” she says. “I was stunned. And very, very happy.”

Her second novel, The Tiger Rising, went on to become a National Book Award Finalist. Since then, the master storyteller has written for a wide range of ages. She is the author of six books in the Mercy Watson series of early chapter books, which stars a “porcine wonder” with an obsession for buttered toast. The second book in the series, Mercy Watson Goes for a Ride, was named a Theodor Seuss Geisel Honor Book by the American Library Association in 2007. She is also the co-author of the Bink and Gollie series, which celebrates the tall and short of a marvelous friendship. The first book, Bink&Gollie, was awarded the Theodor Seuss Giesel Award in 2011.
She also wrote a luminous holiday picture book, Great Joy.

Her novel Flora&Ulysses: The Illuminated Adventures won the 2014 Newbery Medal. It was released in fall 2013 to great acclaim, including five starred reviews, and was an instant New York Times bestseller. Flora&Ulysses is a laugh-out-loud story filled with eccentric, endearing characters and featuring an exciting new format—a novel interspersed with comic-style graphic sequences and full-page illustrations, all rendered in black and white by up-and-coming artist K. G. Campbell. It was a 2013 Parents’ Choice Gold Award Winner and was chosen by Amazon, Publishers Weekly, Kirkus Reviews, and Common Sense Media as a Best Book of the Year.

Kate DiCamillo, who was named National Ambassador for Young People’s Literature for 2014–2015, says about stories, “When we read together, we connect. Together, we see the world. Together, we see one another.” Born in Philadelphia, the author lives in Minneapolis, where she faithfully writes two pages a day, five days a week.

Hometown:

Minneapolis, Minnesota

Date of Birth:

March 25, 1964

Place of Birth:

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Education:

B.A. in English, University of Florida at Gainesville, 1987

Read an Excerpt

One
There were three of them, three girls.
   They were standing side by side.
   They were standing at attention.
   And then the girl in the pink dress, the one who was standing right next to Raymie, let out a sob and said, “The more I think about it, the more terrified I am. I am too terrified to go on!”
   The girl clutched her baton to her chest and dropped to her knees.
   Raymie stared at her in wonder and admiration.
   She herself often felt too terrified to go on, but she had never admitted it out loud.
   The girl in the pink dress moaned and toppled over sideways.
   Her eyes fluttered closed. She was silent. And then she opened her eyes very wide and shouted, “Archie, I’m sorry! I’m sorry I betrayed you!”
   She closed her eyes again. Her mouth fell open.
   Raymie had never seen or heard anything like it.
   “I’m sorry,” Raymie whispered. “I betrayed you.”
   For some reason, the words seemed worth repeating.
   “Stop this nonsense immediately,” said Ida Nee.
   Ida Nee was the baton-­twirling instructor. Even though she was old — ​over fifty at least — ​her hair was an extremely bright yellow. She wore white boots that came all the way up to her knees.
   “I’m not kidding,” said Ida Nee.
   Raymie believed her.
   Ida Nee didn’t seem like much of a kidder.
 
   The sun was way, way up in the sky, and the whole thing was like high noon in a Western. But it was not a Western; it was baton-­twirling lessons at Ida Nee’s house in Ida Nee’s backyard.
   It was the summer of 1975.
   It was the fifth day of June.
   And two days before, on the third day of June, Raymie Clarke’s father had run away from home with a woman who was a dental hygienist.
 Hey, diddle, diddle, the dish ran away with the spoon.
   Those were the words that went through Raymie’s head every time she thought about her father and the dental hygienist.
   But she did not say the words out loud anymore because Raymie’s mother was very upset, and talking about dishes and spoons running away together was not appropriate.
   It was actually a great tragedy, what had happened.
   That was what Raymie’s mother said.
   “This is a great tragedy,” said Raymie’s mother. “Quit reciting nursery rhymes.”
   It was a great tragedy because Raymie’s father had disgraced himself.
   It was also a great tragedy because Raymie was now fatherless.
   The thought of that — ​the fact of it — ​that she, Raymie Clarke, was without a father, made a small, sharp pain shoot through Raymie’s heart every time she considered it.
   Sometimes the pain in her heart made her feel too terrified to go on. Sometimes it made her want to drop to her knees.
   But then she would remember that she had a plan.
 
Two
“Get up,” said Ida Nee to the girl in the pink dress.
   “She fainted,” said the other baton-­twirling student, a girl named Beverly Tapinski, whose father was a cop.
   Raymie knew the girl’s name and what her father did because Beverly had made an announcement at the beginning of the lesson. She had stared straight ahead, not looking at anybody in particular, and said, “My name is Beverly Tapinski and my father is a cop, so I don’t think that you should mess with me.”
   Raymie, for one, had no intention of messing with her.
   “I’ve seen a lot of people faint,” said Beverly now. “That’s what happens when you’re the daughter of a cop. You see everything. You see it all.”
   “Shut up, Tapinski,” said Ida Nee.
   The sun was very high in the sky.
   It hadn’t moved.
   It seemed like someone had stuck it up there and then walked away and left it.
   “I’m sorry,” whispered Raymie. “I betrayed you.”
   Beverly Tapinski knelt down and put her hands on either side of the fainting girl’s face.
   “What do you think you’re doing?” said Ida Nee.
   The pine trees above them swayed back and forth. The lake, Lake Clara — ​where someone named Clara Wingtip had managed to drown herself a hundred years ago — ​gleamed and glittered.
   The lake looked hungry.
   Maybe it was hoping for another Clara Wingtip.
   Raymie felt a wave of despair.
   There wasn’t time for people fainting. She had to learn how to twirl a baton and she had to learn fast, because if she learned how to twirl a baton, then she stood a good chance of becoming Little Miss Central Florida Tire.
   And if she became Little Miss Central Florida Tire, her father would see her picture in the paper and come home.
   That was Raymie’s plan.
 
Three
The way that Raymie imagined her plan unfolding was that her father would be sitting in some restaurant, in whatever town he had run away to. He would be with Lee Ann Dickerson, the dental hygienist. They would be sitting together in a booth, and her father would be smoking a cigarette and drinking coffee, and Lee Ann would be doing something stupid and inappropriate, like maybe filing her nails (which you should never do in public). At some point, Raymie’s father would put out his cigarette and open the paper and clear his throat and say, “Let’s see what we can see here,” and what he would see would be Raymie’s picture.
   He would see his daughter with a crown on her head and a bouquet of flowers in her arms and a sash across her chest that said Little Miss Central Florida Tire 1975.
   And Raymie’s father, Jim Clarke of Clarke Family Insurance, would turn to Lee Ann and say, “I must return home immediately. Everything has changed. My daughter is now famous. She has been crowned Little Miss Central Florida Tire.”
   Lee Ann would stop filing her nails. She would gasp out loud in surprise and dismay (and also, maybe, in envy and admiration).
   That’s the way Raymie imagined it would happen.
   Probably. Maybe. Hopefully.
   But first she needed to learn how to twirl a baton.
   Or so said Mrs. Sylvester.

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