“The Real Boy” by Anne Ursu
As a neophyte writer, whenever I hear the phrase “point of view,” I cringe. I’m not sure how to do it well. Now I know. Anne Ursu, in “The Real Boy,” put me in little Oliver’s head. What a strange place to be. Oliver thinks he’s made of wood, and that’s how he sees the world. As a teacher for many years, I had students who acted the same way. I wish I’d had this book to suggest to parents who worried about these kids who break the mold. That said, it doesn’t matter who reads this. It’s rip-roaring fantasy about Oliver, a magician’s helper, who battles a larger-than-life monster (I won’t tell you what it is, because it’s a total surprise).