
Am I the only reader who didn't much care for Savvy, by Ingrid Law? The book is a NY Times bestseller, won a Horn Book Honor Award, and received a bunch of starred reviews. So what's wrong with me? I thought it seemed really old-fashioned, cloyingly predictable, and so completely unrealistic that I'm sure the Hallmark Hall of Fame Channel has already bought the rights to it. The only thing that set it apart from every other nostalgia-tinged book about a midwestern road trip was the Beaumont family's kind of creepy collection of special powers. Mibs, the narrator, ends up with the creepiest "savvy" of them all: she can read a person's mind through his or her tattoo. Poor Mibs received a recipe for schizophrenia. Her brother, Fish, conjures up hurricanes any time he gets mad. And since he's 13 and apparently somewhat maladjusted, storms are abrewing all the time around the Beaumont's house. Elder brother Rocket can create electricity, while their Grandpa causes earthquakes. And what about their youngest brother, Samson? He spends all his time hiding and doesn't speak. Add to the mix the preacher's rebellious, Goth-wearing daughter who just wants a friend and her brother (who turns out to be her nephew, but it's a big secret), put them on a bus with a wimpy traveling Bible salesman who meets up with a chubby and clueless ex-waitress who practically adopts them, and you end up with a road trip that is completely predictable and an ending that readers can spot coming from miles away. I like a little bite with my books, characters who behave more like real kids and less like characters out of a 1940's dust bowl movie. This book is just too sweet, the "savvies" too weird, and the plot all-around odd. But apparently I'm the only reader who thinks so. Go figure.



