Available:*
Library | Call Number | Status |
---|---|---|
Searching... Hardwood Creek Library (Forest Lake) | J FICTION LUB | Searching... Unknown |
Searching... Stillwater Public Library | J FICTION LUB | Searching... Unknown |
Bound With These Titles
On Order
Summary
Summary
Watch out for the road weenies!
A town is overrun by road weenies--a.k.a. joggers--who never smile. A girl thinks she's too old for Halloween...until she finds a special pair of gloves. A boy takes a shortcut to an unexpected place. A mummy takes his revenge, one little piece at a time.... Welcome to the weird and wacky world of award-winning storyteller and master of the macabre, David Lubar. These thirty-five tales ranging from the silly and offbeat to flat-out horrifying are just right for reading alone or for telling aloud in the dark. As an added bonus at the end of the book, David answers the question most frequently asked of writers with a behind-the-scenes look at the various ways he got the ideas for the stories in this collection. Don't be a weenie. Read these stories. If you dare!
Author Notes
David Lubar created a sensation with his debut novel, Hidden Talents , an ALA Best Book for Young Adults. Thousands of kids and educators across the country have voted Hidden Talents onto over twenty state lists. David is also the author of True Talents , the sequel to Hidden Talents ; Flip , an ALA Best Book for Young Adults and a VOYA Best Science Fiction, Fantasy and Horror selection; five short story collections, including In the Land of the Lawn Weenies , The Curse of the Campfire Weenies , The Battle of the Red Hot Pepper Weenies , and Attack of the Vampire Weenies ; and the Nathan Abercrombie, Accidental Zombie series. Lubar grew up in Morristown, New Jersey, and he has also lived in New Brunswick, Edison, and Piscataway, NJ, and Sacramento, CA. Besides writing, he has also worked as a video game programmer and designer. He now lives in Nazareth, Pennsylvania.
Reviews (5)
Publisher's Weekly Review
In Invasion of the Road Weenies, David Lubar's second volume of weird and wacky tales on the heels of In the Land of Lawn Weenies, the author continues to send shivers up readers' spines by providing eerie answers to "what if" questions and creating surrealistic worlds where shocking ironies abound. Here he reveals the secret of Tommy Griffin, a boy who never speaks at school, and unveils the identity of the even more enigmatic Green Man, who has never actually been seen. In other stories, the author invents captivating explanations to such philosophical inquiries as "What is the purpose of those buttons no one uses on the remote control?" These yarns are sure to produce gasps and giggles. (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Horn Book Review
In ""Shaping the Fog,"" three children discover they are made from fog and are just as impermanent. In ""Dizzy Spells,"" a boy wishes the world would stop spinning--and in an instant, it does. In ""Goose Eggs,"" Charlie learns--to his horror--exactly what hatches from his goose's golden eggs. These thirty-five macabre short-short stories are enjoyably eerie but not for the faint of heart. (c) Copyright 2010. The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted. All rights reserved.
Booklist Review
Gr. 4-7. Lubar strikes again. As in his previous collection , In the Land of the Lawn Weenies and Other Warped and Creepy Tales0 (2003), he delivers a series of funny, often surreal short stories. In one of the selections, a boy's trip with his dad and younger brother to Take Your Child to Work Day ends disastrously when some copy-machine pranks erase a face as well as another popular anatomical copy-machine subject. In the title story, a boy finds the chilling truth about the joggers who pass unsmilingly by his school bus every day. All of the stories are fun, bite-size reads that deliver plenty of punch in just a few pages. At the end of the book, Lubar tells how he came up with the idea for each of his tales. Another winning roundup, of particular interest to reluctant readers. --Todd Morning Copyright 2005 Booklist
School Library Journal Review
Gr 4-7-In this companion to In the Land of the Lawn Weenies (Tom Doherty, 2003), Lubar takes kids' wishes and fantasies and shows how they might go horribly-even fatally-wrong. Most of the protagonists in these 35 short-short tales think that they cannot be surprised, which makes their shock when they meet the unexplainable more fun, and creepier. Many of the selections are told with a sly, satirical humor. Although a few pieces fall flat, the chilling ones far outweigh them. What if you discovered, for example, that when you recorded over your dad's boring videotapes of a family vacation or a school play, those events suddenly had never occurred? And what if you accidentally erased the videotape of your mother giving birth to you? Oh oh. Not for the sensitive or easily frightened, this book is perfect to hand to youngsters who want something to read after they've finished all of Alvin Schwartz's "Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark" titles (HarperCollins).-Walter Minkel, New York Public Library (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Kirkus Review
Jeremy keeps hearing loud thuds in the night; he's sure something is living in his septic tank. Some drain cleaner quiets the noise but actually stinks up the house. When the plumber comes to pump the tank, Jeremy discovers there really is more than bacteria in the tank. Andrea learns there's a reason kindergartners are taught to line up straight; Eric learns that the dead won't hurt you unless you hurt them first. Wish fulfillment, just deserts and adults who don't listen are the frequent themes of these sometimes creepy, sometimes silly and sometimes lame stories. Lubar's second volume of Weenie vignettes is better than the first, but make no mistake, these stories feature no character development and often-nonsensical plots. That said, fans of the first will find this compulsively readable. Others looking for a light, quick read might enjoy them, too, as long as they don't invest too much thought in the whys and wherefores. A few offerings, including the first "Last Halloween," will even make fun read-alouds in dimly lit rooms. (Fiction. 9-12) Copyright ©Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Excerpts
Excerpts
Chapter One "Aren't you going out for trick or treat?" Jennifer's mom asked two weeks before Halloween. "If you want me to make a costume, we'd better start soon." "I'm getting kind of old for that," Jennifer said. "Maybe I'll skip it this year." "Are you sure? I thought you loved to go out." Jennifer nodded. "I'm pretty sure." She'd been thinking about it ever since last year---ever since those older kids had stolen her candy and chased her down the street. As much as she loved Halloween, it just wasn't worth the risk. Monster terror was fun. Real terror wasn't. "There's still time for me to make a costume," her mom said a week before Halloween. "Thanks. But I think I'll stay home and hand out candy." That might even be fun, Jennifer thought. She liked seeing the little kids in their cute costumes. Her enthusiasm faded as she realized the older kids would come to her door, too---the ones who didn't even bother with real costumes. The ones who were just out to get as much candy as they could. "Last chance," Jennifer's mom said the day before Halloween. "I can still put something together." Jennifer looked out the window at the leaf-strewn streets that would soon be filled with costumed kids. "No thanks," she said. But on Halloween, as the day fell dark and the smallest trick-or-treaters emerged from their houses like ants spilling from a hill, Jennifer wondered if it was too late to change her mind. She had good memories of her first Halloween. It wasn't fair to have nothing but bad memories about her last one. But that awful Halloween didn't have to be her last one. Not if she went out now. Costume, Jennifer thought, rummaging through her closet. Nothing. Sure, she could throw together a hippie outfit, or do some sort of clown makeup, but that wasn't good enough. That wasn't special. She tried the basement. The sound of the doorbell drifted down from upstairs. As Jennifer scanned the piles of boxes stacked along a wall, the flash of a gold latch caught her eye. Her great grandmother's old trunk sat shoved in a corner beneath moldy boxes of baby toys and a stack of canning jars. Jennifer vaguely remembered looking in the trunk when they'd first moved to the house. She uncovered the trunk and unlatched the lid. A dusty smell of ancient cloth tickled her nose as she sorted through the contents. Just old dresses. Nice enough, but not the sort of costume she wanted. There was a hat with a veil---thin black gauze that covered the face of the wearer. This might work in an emergency, she thought. Still, she'd hoped to find something better. Jennifer found nothing else. But, as she started to close the lid, she realized something was wrong. The outside of the trunk seemed deeper than the inside. She emptied the trunk and knocked her fist against the bottom. Instead of a solid whack, she was rewarded with a hollow thump. Excited, she pushed and pressed until she discovered the right spot. The false bottom popped up. Jennifer held her breath as she lifted the wood panel, wondering what treasures she might find. Gloves. That was all. One pair of black leather gloves. Jennifer noticed a folded slip of paper tucked between the fingers. She opened the slip and read the handwritten words out loud, "Special gloves for a special night." The doorbell rang again. Jennifer heard a chorus of young voices shouting "Trick or treat!" Halloween was slipping past her like hourglass sand. Jennifer grabbed the hat. Not a great costume, but it would have to do. On a whim, she grabbed the gloves, too. After all, it was a special night, even if she didn't have a special costume. She slipped the gloves over her hands. They fit like she'd worn them for years. She put on the hat. The veil cut her off from the world, filtering everything through a dark curtain. Jennifer ran upstairs and grabbed her Halloween bag. "I'm going out," she called to her mom. "Have fun, dear. Be careful." She dashed into the crisp air of the last night in October. As she knocked on her first door and got her first piece of candy, Jennifer knew she'd made the right decision. She traveled the familiar streets, following a pattern she'd worked out over the years. At most houses, she heard the same question. "What an interesting costume. What are you?" "Just a veiled lady," Jennifer told them. She reached Pritchard Street. A dead end. The best path was down one side and up the other. She went to the first house on the right, and then the second. As she left the second house, she heard the footsteps behind her. Footsteps and whispers. She took a quick glance over her shoulder at the hovering shapes. Taller kids, bigger kids. Though she hated to break the pattern, Jennifer crossed the street. They followed. Going to each house right after her. Playing with her the way a cat plays with a mouse. They had time. She was trapped. Jennifer crossed the street again. They crossed, too. And again. Jennifer gripped her bag with her right hand, feeling the plastic handle bite against her palm through the thin leather of the gloves. I'm just going to walk back to the corner, she told herself. She'd go past them, and everything would be fine. Forcing herself to look straight ahead, she took a step toward them. Crude laughs bubbled from the cluster of kids. "Trick or treat," the boy in front said in a nasty, mocking voice. His only costume was football shirt. Behind him, another boy, the tallest of the group, wore a motorcycle jacket. "Gonna share?" the boy in front asked. Jennifer avoided his eyes. He stepped closer and reached toward her bag. Jennifer put her left hand out, as if this motion had the power to stop them. She froze as the oddest sound punctured the night. Thwick...thwick...thwick...thwick...thwick. Claws, black as coal and sharp as needles, sprouted from her fingertips. "Just give me the bag," the boy said. Jennifer gave him the claws instead. He screamed and clutched at his ripped shirt. The others took a step toward her. Jennifer flicked her arm out and slashed ribbons from the tall boy's leather jacket. She slashed flesh, too, but only enough to warn him off, only enough to make him think twice the next time he considered stalking a victim. Even in the dark, the others saw enough to know what she had done. They turned and fled. But not before Jennifer had flicked her wrist a final time, gutting their bags and spilling candy on the street. The claws retracted. Jennifer left the spilled candy for the little ones to find. She'd already received her reward. She finished her path along the street. At the final house, a woman said, "My, my, that's a lovely costume. What are you?" "Justice," Jennifer whispered. "What?" the woman asked. "Just a veiled lady," Jennifer said. Her bag was nearly full. Normally, that was when she'd return home. But there were other kids out there like her, alone and vulnerable. And there were other gangs like the one she'd met. Jennifer stayed on the streets until the last porch light went dark. Finally, she headed home. "Did you have a good time?" her mother asked. Jennifer nodded, sending a ripple through the veil. She removed the hat and gloves. "I think this was the best Halloween ever. I can't wait until next year." "Well, just let me know ahead of time if you want a costume," her mother told her. "I'll stick with this one," Jennifer said. "It's kind of fun. And it fits me really well." Copyright (c) 2005 by David Lubar Excerpted from Invasion of the Road Weenies: And Other Warped and Creepy Tales by David Lubar All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.
Table of Contents
Acknowledgments | p. 9 |
The Last Halloween | p. 13 |
Bed Tings | p. 19 |
The Dead Won't Hurt You | p. 22 |
Copies | p. 28 |
Shaping the Fog | p. 32 |
Willard's Oppositional Notebook | p. 35 |
A Tiny Little Piece | p. 39 |
The La Brea Toy Pits | p. 45 |
Mr. Lambini's Haunted House | p. 51 |
Numbskull | p. 56 |
A Little Night Fishing | p. 61 |
Precious Memories | p. 67 |
Baby Talk | p. 71 |
Unseen | p. 74 |
Flyers | p. 78 |
Every Autumn | p. 82 |
Goose Eggs | p. 85 |
Fresh from the Garden | p. 92 |
The Covered Bridge | p. 97 |
Buzz Off | p. 102 |
Just Desserts | p. 107 |
The Whole Nine Yards | p. 113 |
The Green Man | p. 118 |
Dizzy Spells | p. 125 |
The Tank | p. 130 |
Anything You Want | p. 136 |
Lines | p. 140 |
Wandering Stu | p. 144 |
Tarnation | p. 148 |
Ten Pounds of Chocolate | p. 154 |
The Boy Who Wouldn't Talk | p. 158 |
Invasion of the Road Weenies | p. 163 |
We Interrupt This Program | p. 168 |
The Smell of Death | p. 171 |
The Shortcut | p. 176 |
A Word or Two About These Stories | p. 183 |