Two Girls, a Clock, and a Crooked House

by Michael Poore Narrated by Cassandra Morris

Overview

Combine the thought-provoking time travel of When You Reach Me with the humorous storytelling of Lemony Snicket, and you get a wholly original journey through time, space, and the depths of the human heart.

This is a story of things that are not possible.

It's not possible for Amy to see spirits. (She does.)
It's not possible that Amy and Moo can communicate using only their minds. (They do.)
It's not possible to time-travel. (Yet.)
And it's definitely not possible that witches exist. (Seriously?)

None of these things are possible. (Until now . . .)

Editorial Reviews

From the Publisher

This fun middle grade novel will appeal to reluctant readers and those who prefer their stories on the weird side….Entertaining and engaging.” —School Library Journal

“Humorous dialogue and descriptions keep readers on their toes…. Kids will take pleasure in navigating Amy and Moo’s wacky world.” —Booklist

“With its hodgepodge of science, magic, lightweight natural philosophy, self-aware humor, and language play, this novel offers some quirky and amusing science fantasy.”  —Bulletin

School Library Journal

09/01/2019

Gr 5 Up—Amy Wood is struck by lightning on her way home; when she wakes up, she can see things she never noticed before. Some people have storm clouds hanging above their heads, others have hearts, and suddenly, she can see spirits in nature, too. Amy isn't just seeing things; she can hear other's thoughts as well. This is especially useful with Amy's nonverbal friend Moo. Now that Amy and Moo can communicate with their minds, they decide to explore the woods and happen upon a run-down cabin filled with strange objects. Using her new abilities, Amy gathers items from the cabin and creates a time machine, and she and Moo find themselves 30 years in the past. There they meet up with Mrs. Goolagong, who is one percent witch, and Oliver, the young boy Mrs. Goolagong supposedly kidnapped and ate. Now Amy and Moo have to figure out how to get back to their own time and keep from getting in trouble for being out so late. Who knew time travel could be so confusing? This fun middle grade novel will appeal to reluctant readers and those who prefer their stories on the weird side. The writing style is entertaining and engaging, the chapters are short and easily consumable, and the characters, odd as they may be, are genuine. Some content may not be suitable for all middle grade readers; there are mentions of physical abuse, drug use, and bullying. VERDICT A well-paced and original read for collections where quirky fiction titles such as Lemony Snicket's "Series of Unfortunate Events" and Madeleine L'Engle's A Wrinkle in Time are popular.—Amanda Toth, Lane Libraries, Hamilton, OH

Kirkus Reviews

2019-06-10
Creating their own time machine, two girls visit the past in adult novelist Poore's (Reincarnation Blues, 2017) debut for children.

After fifth grader Amy is struck by lightning, she sees odd symbols floating above peoples' heads and discovers she can communicate telepathically with the mute friend whose abusive father left her unable to move volitionally or to speak, except to say Moo, so that's what Amy calls her. When Moo and Amy take shelter from a thunderstorm in a dilapidated cottage in the woods (maybe it's home to a witch), the musty furnishings, especially a clock, inspire Amy to experiment with time travel. Moo, now strengthening, joins in. Testing their theories, the girls travel back to 1989, where the intriguing time-travel premise devolves into white noise, and frenetic adventures ensue. Tone and pacing are inconsistent, with noisy, picture-book cadences, Vonnegut-esque musings, and metafictional asides from the omniscient narrator. The broad humor plays fast and loose with ethics. Amy shoplifts a hoodie as an "experiment"; a planned return is mentioned, then dropped. She's had two years to learn Moo's real name but has never asked. Graphically conveyed incidents of child neglect and abuse interrupt the breezy fantasy, yet little is at stake for these characters. Time travel might change events, but the people involved remain static; their identities, not their choices, determine their fates. Characters are default white.

An exhausting misfire. (Fantasy. 8-12)

Product Details

BN ID:	2940169182040
Publisher:	Penguin Random House
Publication date:	09/10/2019
Edition description:	Unabridged
Age Range:	8 - 12 Years

Read an Excerpt

Amy Wood was planning to rob the Everything Store.
 
You know the kind of store I mean. It’s where you go to get prescriptions, and they also have dog food and Christmas lights and . . . well, everything. Anyhow, at Halloween time they sold these hoodies that looked like butterflies, and Amy planned to steal one.
 
One Friday afternoon, she hopped onto her bike after school and headed for the store.
 
It wasn’t an impulse. No one had dared her to do it. She didn’t need a hoodie to keep warm. She didn’t have a disease where she couldn’t help stealing or didn’t know any better.
 
It was an experiment. She simply wanted to see if she could do it without getting caught. She had an argument with herself as she rode down the street.
 
“I think I can get away with it,” she said to herself (a parallel-dimension self, visible in her rearview mirror).
 
“On the other hand,” Self said back, “there’s a strong probability that you will be arrested and sent to prison.”
 
“I have planned carefully,” she reassured Self.
 
Amy always planned her experiments carefully. Even last summer’s Ketchup Experiment—which had been a mess and a disaster—had been well planned. The ketchup wasn’t supposed to end up on her mother. But you couldn’t control everything, or it wouldn’t be an experiment, right? Right.
 
She rolled across the Everything Store parking lot and parked her bike by the door.
 
Inside, she said “Hi” to the clerk in an offhand, uninterested, ten-year-old kind of way and slipped off down the cosmetics aisle.
 
“Rbblmmgh,” mumbled the clerk, barely looking up.
 
Amy’s heart beat fast. She couldn’t decide whether she was thrilled or frightened. Was there a difference?
 
Focus! she told herself.
 
She glanced at the big round mirror up in the corner of the ceiling. The clerk, theoretically, could see down every aisle, from everywhere in the store. Fortunately, Amy had planned for this.
 
She would create a diversion.
 
The diversion was something she had prepared ahead of time: a plastic sandwich bag full of orange pop and crushed cereal. Now, at the store, she removed it from her pocket, pulled off the twist tie, and dumped the contents onto the floor between the sunglasses and the school supplies.
 
Then she poked her head around the endcap, waved at the clerk, and politely shouted, “Sir? I think someone threw up in aisle three. It’s really repulsive.”
 
The clerk—who looked like a stick with a beard—sighed and mumbled, “All right. Thanks, I guess.”
 
Amy retreated into the painkiller/wound care aisle and waited until she heard the clerk get a mop and a bucket and head for the school supplies. Then she fast-walked halfway across the store to where the hoodies were kept stacked in a plastic tub.
 
She checked the big round mirror. It was hard to tell what she was looking at, the way everything seemed to bend and recede down a black hole, but it kind of looked like the clerk was bent over, facing away. Good.
 
Quickly Amy grabbed one of the hoodies and dove into it like you would a swimming pool (it was waaaaay too big), shooting her arms through the sleeves, popping her head out the top, and smoothing the whole thing until the bottom hem hung around her knees. Then she walked toward the door, between the shampoo and the greeting cards, just as casual as could be.
 
Time seemed to slow down. Second by second, she was sure that NOW was the moment the clerk would call out, “Wait a second there, kid!” NOW was the moment his hand would come down on her lawbreaking, butterfly-winged shoulder; NOW was the moment her dark prison journey would begin. . . . 
 
The Crime Experiment was a mistake, she realized (too late).
 
And sure enough, here came the footsteps behind her.
 

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