From the fight Booky witnesses between her parents over the fate of her unborn sibling to the extreme joy she feels with an unexpected treat of Coca-cola, the highs and lows of trying to survive are lovingly and meticulously detailed. Written by Canadian author Bernice Thurman Hunter, this semi-autographical tale, despite its serious subject matter, is humorous and touching and brutally honest in its description of life during the Depression. Set in Depression-era Toronto, the book tells the story of 10-year-old Beatrice (nicknamed Booky - pronounced “Boo-key”) and her family’s struggles to survive. And at one of those book fairs, I was introduced to That Scatterbrain Booky. But even better than the library? Every year our school hosted a book fair.

I spent hours at our local library reading anything and everything I could get my hands on (including some books that probably were not appropriate for children - the local librarian was quite liberal bless her little heart). With no money for after-school activities the library card was a pot of gold to the poor kid. Left alone, I could easily read three or four books in a single weekend and I drove my mother crazy with my ability to completely tune everything out around me while I read. Second - while I blew vomity goat chunks at math, I excelled at reading and writing. Schaefer was rude and scathingly bitchy (Pajibans would have loved him) but he taught me both the value of reading and how to conjugate properly in French.

First - a wonderful, creative, snarky and sarcastic part time school librarian, full time French teacher named Mr. There are three specific reasons that lead to my childhood love for reading. The one who snuck into the birthday kid’s room, snagged a book and found a quiet little corner to hide in while the rest of the hooligans at the party ran around enjoying all manner of shenanigans. I was that fat little kid at the birthday party. As a child I had a voracious appetite for reading.

Booky bernice thurman hunter