As with her first novel, A Crooked Kind of Perfect, Linda Urban again creates a snapshot of a young person's life that drills deeply into her emotional evolution. Mattie Breen is about to start fifth grade. This will be her fourth school. Each year, her teacher writes Mattie's name on a blackboard (or, once, a whiteboard) "like she was a lesson." Mattie is over the moon about her latest move, however, because she and her mother are back in her mother's childhood home, and Uncle Potluck is there. Uncle Potluck will be at her new school, too. He is the "director of custodial arts" at Mitchell P. Anderson Elementary. Mattie follows him around, meticulously taking notes in her notebook, which she calls "Custodial Wisdom." Her dream is to be Mattie Breen, "Custodial Apprentice," and to come to his office for recess and lunchtime.
The entire book takes place in the week before school begins. Urban possesses a gift for the telling detail. Mattie's notes range from practical pointers, such as, "When going to investigate a leak, bring a bucket," to advice that may also apply to larger situations: "Fix things before they get too big for fixing." When Mattie and her uncle arrive at the cafeteria, and Uncle Potluck tells her about the lunch menu, Mattie focuses on its 450 seats: "Seems like that would be enough so everybody has a place, but Mattie knows different. Knows there can be a thousand seats and still you might not find the place you belong."
Uncle Potluck tells stories. He says that when he talks to the moon, the moon talks back. "Hound dog true," he explains. He can predict a person's future from their ear of corn, and he tells a sad but (hound dog) true tale of how a dog named Stella led to what he calls his "traitorous knee." Mattie used to tell stories, until last year, when a girl named Star read a story in her notebook and bullied her ever after. Now Quincy Sweet, a neighbor's niece who loves to draw as much as Mattie loved to write, seems to be making overtures of friendship. But Mattie doesn't know if she dares open up again. Uncle Potluck, being a storyteller himself, recognizes Mattie's gifts. He helps some things along behind the scenes--like pointing out a few important details about Mattie to her mother. But Mattie also learns to help herself. The girl who starts out wondering what she could say that could possibly interest the moon discovers she may have something important to say after all. This brief novel will inspire children who've been hiding their light under a bushel, and may well prompt their classmates to be a bit more sensitive to that mousy girl or boy in the corner with pen or paintbrush constantly in hand. A masterpiece of understatement.--Jennifer M. Brown