From the Publisher
Praise for Wonkenstein:
“Comfy antics for readers who don’t probably much like reading—which, one thinks, is exactly the point.” —Kirkus Reviews
“Quite funny and has a lot of laugh-out-loud moments. . . . The idea of a hybrid Willy Wonka/Frankenstein character is original and hilarious.” —School Library Journal
“Highly amusing new series starter. . . . Skye gives Rob a self-deprecating charm and highlights the pleasures of books both subtly and effectively.” —Booklist
“Filled with spot-on commentary and a wince-inducing supporting cast, middle grade guys won’t be able to keep Wonkenstein to themselves. . . . This pitch-perfect offering should appeal to reluctant readers, not to mention the legion Wimpy Kid fans.” —Shelf Awareness
Praise for Potterwookiee:
“Skye captures all the silly action in the winning text-plus-cartoons format. . . . Rob’s dry commentary on his family, school, and social life is sure to provoke laughs.” —Publishers Weekly
Occasional yuks and hints of an overarching plotline at the end aren't enough to keep this phoned-in entry in a Wimpy Kid–knockoff series above ground. Following misadventures with Wonkenstein (2011) and Potterwookiee (2012), Rob takes the third literary-mashup action figure to emerge from his closet in stride. This is particularly easy, as, aside from one school visit, the hybrid marionette/vampire is a reclusive wood biter who prefers to hide out in an empty house and turns more puppetlike with every compulsive fib. Meanwhile, Rob comments at length on the foibles of his weird family and friends just as he did in previous episodes and joins a book club that improbably reads Pinocchio aloud in just one session (he gets through Dracula with similar alacrity). Thanks to a mouth with a mind of its own, he also invites heartthrob neighbor Janae and 10 other schoolmates to ride to the upcoming middle school dance in a nonexistent limo. Delivered in journal entries with dialogue and punch lines mouthed by the line-drawn cartoon figures on every page, Rob's narrative ambles its way past a parental save (his dad unexpectedly drives up in a rented limo) to an abject general apology. Refreshed by a short burial in the park, Pinocula then returns to the magic closet, leaving behind his bat/cricket sidekick as a memento. Neither Rob's guilt pangs nor Pinocula's near reversion to wood add much force to the superficial anti-lying message, and the premise, third time through, has gone as stale as the jokes. (Fantasy. 9-11)
Read an Excerpt
The Creature from my Closet
By Obert Skye
Henry Holt and Company Copyright © 2013 Obert Skye
All rights reserved.
LET ME FILL YOU IN
Okay, here's the deal —
Beginning with an apology is probably not the best way to start this book, but I think it's the smart thing to do. That way when you get to the part where I messed up, I can just remind you I already said I'm sorry and you might give me a break.
Before I tell you what I'm sorry about, it might be wise to fill you in on a few other things. If you're new to my journals and drawings, you probably don't know my name. Well, it's ...
My mom is the only one who calls me by my full name, and that's only when she's really ticked off. The rest of the time she calls me Ribert. Most people call me Rob. I'm a student at Softrock Middle School in a town called Temon. Our school's a little behind the times. According to my principal we just barely got our own Facebook page.
Principal Smelt's a pretty good principal. He plays the pan flute and is in a two-man band named Leftover Angst. Still, I'm not adding my school as a friend on Facebook. I just don't want anyone to see how boring my page is or that my only friend at the moment is my father.
I have a pretty normal family. Of course you couldn't tell that from our last family photo. The photographer arranged us in an awkward way, and my little brother, Tuffin, kept lifting his shirt. So now it looks like Libby is showing the world her stomach.
It's my favorite family picture ever. My older sister hates it, but Libby hates a lot of things. The only thing she truly likes is herself. And if you ask her what she's into she always answers ...
Tuffin's not really into himself, he's more into mischief. Lately he's been slipping strange things into the sandwiches I bring to school for lunch.
My mom tells me to be thankful for the cute things that Tuffin does.
I like Tuffin, but it's hard to feel thankful after biting into a peanut butter and rubber band sandwich. I guess my mom has to say things like that though. She's a mom — a mom who spends a lot of her time taking naps on the couch. She's almost always wearing her robe, and she claims that having children makes her tired. That's probably true, but how much effort does it take to give me orders while I'm trying to sneak away to hang out with my friends?
Excerpted from Pinocula by Obert Skye. Copyright © 2013 Obert Skye. Excerpted by permission of Henry Holt and Company.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.