{"product_id":"the-order-of-things-isbn-9780593530900","title":"The Order of Things","description":"\u003cb\u003eA heart-rending novel-in-verse about a girl beginning to learn it is possible to go on even after a great loss.\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eEleven-year-old April Jackson loves playing the drums, almost as much as she loves her best friend, Zee, a violin prodigy. They both dream of becoming professional musicians one day. When Zee starts attending a new school that will nurture his talent, April decides it’s time for her to pursue her dreams, too, and finally take drum lessons. She knows she isn’t very good to start, but with Zee’s support, she also knows someday she can be just as good as her hero, Sheila E., and travel all around the world with a pair of drumsticks in her hand.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhen the unthinkable happens and Zee suddenly passes away, April is crushed by grief. Without Zee, nothing is the way it’s supposed to be. Zee's Dad isn't delivering the mail for his postal route like he should. April's Mom is suddenly dating someone new who is occupying too much space in their lives. And every time April tries to play the drums, all she can think about is Zee.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eApril isn't sure how to move on from the awful feeling of being without Zee. Desperate to help Papa Zee, she decides to secretly deliver the mail he’s been neglecting. But when on her route she discovers a classmate in trouble, she doesn’t second guess what she knows is the right thing to do.\u003cu\u003ePraise for \u003ci\u003eThe Order of Things\u003c\/i\u003e:\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/u\u003e\u003cb\u003eA Black Caucus American Library Association Best of the Best 2023 Pick\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cu\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/u\u003e\u003cb\u003eA      Junior Library Guild Gold Standard Selection\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003eA\u003ci\u003e Bulletin of the Center for Children's Books\u003c\/i\u003e \u003c\/b\u003eBlue Ribbons Best Books of 2023\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“A \u003cb\u003elyrical and emotionally powerful \u003c\/b\u003enovel-in-verse…it’s an \u003cb\u003euplifting tale of grief, courage, and community\u003c\/b\u003e.” —\u003ci\u003eThe Boston Globe\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e★ \u003c\/b\u003e“This \u003cb\u003ewell-crafted\u003c\/b\u003e novel in verse is \u003cb\u003erich in detail \u003c\/b\u003e. . . The characters are fully realized, and the themes of family, change, and \u003cb\u003egrief\u003c\/b\u003e are \u003cb\u003ehandled with sensitivity and care\u003c\/b\u003e. A \u003cb\u003eheart-rending\u003c\/b\u003e narrative of friendship, family, and the path to healing.” —\u003ci\u003eKirkus\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003cb\u003estarred review\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e★ \u003c\/b\u003e“Langley explores communal grieving and found family in this middle grade debut, \u003cb\u003ea layered novel in verse\u003c\/b\u003e. . . Declarative lines paint a \u003cb\u003espare\u003c\/b\u003e picture \u003cb\u003eof interpersonal bonds\u003c\/b\u003e and grief, while . . . resilience and desire to uplift loved ones guide a narrative that’s invested in \u003cb\u003ethemes of loss, ethics, and empathy\u003c\/b\u003e.” —\u003ci\u003ePublishers Weekly\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003cb\u003estarred review\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e★ \u003c\/b\u003e“This novel-in-verse is \u003cb\u003ea steady roll that powerfully builds, like a satisfying drum solo\u003c\/b\u003e, and Langley creates \u003cb\u003ea beautiful (if tragic) symphony\u003c\/b\u003e. . . allowing \u003cb\u003efor tender, heartrending expressions of intergenerational and found family caring in times of deep loss\u003c\/b\u003e. . . Fans of Kwame Alexander’s emotionally charged and character-driven verse novels will have no problem dancing to the beat of this drum.” —\u003ci\u003eThe Bulletin of the Center for Children's Books\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003cb\u003estarred review\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e“Langley has crafted a\u003cb\u003e lovely, beautifully written\u003c\/b\u003e, and \u003cb\u003ewell-plotted\u003c\/b\u003e novel in verse, populated with \u003cb\u003ememorable, empathetic characters\u003c\/b\u003e who come alive on the page. \u003cb\u003eGive her a standing O\u003c\/b\u003e.” —\u003ci\u003eBooklist\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\"\u003cb\u003eLangley deftly twines music, poetry, family, and friendship\u003c\/b\u003e in her middle grade debut in verse…Langley’s verse is both \u003cb\u003eapproachable and engaging\u003c\/b\u003e. Despite a relatively low word count, characters, \u003cb\u003esetting, and plot are richly developed\u003c\/b\u003e. \u003cb\u003eReaders coming for the music will stay for the feels\u003c\/b\u003e…A strong purchase for most collections and an easy recommendation for a variety of readers.\" —\u003ci\u003eSchool Library Journal\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"In this \u003cb\u003ecompelling verse novel\u003c\/b\u003e,…Langley takes readers on an emotionally turbulent ride while highlighting characters’ strengths and flaws. The protagonists’ love of music breathes life into the plot and propels the action forward. An \u003cb\u003ehonest and poignant\u003c\/b\u003e portrayal of loss and grief that affirms that time and a supportive community contribute to healing.\" —\u003ci\u003eThe Horn Book\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003eKaija Langley was raised on a healthy diet of library books, music and theater performances, and visits to the family farm in rural North Carolina. She loves long road trips, dancing wherever music moves her, and adventures near and far with her Beloved. She resides with her family in Cambridge, MA. Learn more at KaijaLangley.com\u003cb\u003eThe Sound of Music\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e makes everything better,\u003cbr\u003e even the first day of school.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e In the quiet of morning, there’s\u003cbr\u003e no mistaking the faint sound of\u003cbr\u003e a violin, my best friend, Zee, playing at this early hour.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e We’re both going to school\u003cbr\u003e today, but not the same one,\u003cbr\u003e not anymore.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cb\u003eWash, Brush, Dress\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e in my school uniform\u003cbr\u003e with the crisp collar,\u003cbr\u003e skirt pleats poppin’,\u003cbr\u003e creased shirtsleeves\u003cbr\u003e sharp enough to cut you,\u003cbr\u003e like Mama taught me.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I double-check my ponytail,\u003cbr\u003e every strand in place, grab\u003cbr\u003e my bookbag, my drumsticks,\u003cbr\u003e and ease into the kitchen.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Devour the orange-cranberry scone\u003cbr\u003e Mama baked special for today.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I slip into her\u003cbr\u003e room for a kiss,\u003cbr\u003e but don’t wake her.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Her UPS badge on\u003cbr\u003e the dresser, her head\u003cbr\u003e half beneath the pillow.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Working night shift\u003cbr\u003e loading trucks means\u003cbr\u003e Mama sleeps most of\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e the day, works most of\u003cbr\u003e the night, and we live\u003cbr\u003e in the quiet moments\u003cbr\u003e in between.\u003cbr\u003e \u003cb\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Like Clockwork\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Zee waits for me in the hallway\u003cbr\u003e outside his apartment, across\u003cbr\u003e from my own.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe’s dressed in a burgundy polo,\u003cbr\u003e a gold-and-blue crest on his chest,\u003cbr\u003e khaki pants, new black loafers.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe hallway reeks of fried eggs\u003cbr\u003e and onions, strong coffee and\u003cbr\u003e cologne. Zee has one leg\u003cbr\u003e kicked behind him on the wall,\u003cbr\u003e his violin case in his hand, his\u003cbr\u003e face as hard as stone.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eZee closes his eyes,\u003cbr\u003e takes three long, deep\u003cbr\u003e breaths but still no words.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe’s usually not this quiet.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eYou okay, Zee?\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWe gabbed all summer about\u003cbr\u003e today, so I know he’s as excited,\u003cbr\u003e and as nervous too, as I am.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHis eyes open when Papa Zee\u003cbr\u003e exits their apartment,\u003cbr\u003e door slamming behind him,\u003cbr\u003e shirt untucked, hat on backward.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe’s late to work today but still\u003cbr\u003e plants a kiss on our foreheads\u003cbr\u003e before ushering us to the elevator.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe jabs the button so many times I’m\u003cbr\u003e afraid it might break. We’re only\u003cbr\u003e on the twelfth floor, but the elevator\u003cbr\u003e always seems slowest when we’re\u003cbr\u003e in a rush.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eOne for the road?\u003c\/i\u003e Papa Zee asks, winking.\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003eHow do you make a bandstand?\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eHow?\u003c\/i\u003e I ask.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eZee leans forward,\u003cbr\u003e fully alert.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eYou take away their chairs!\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eZee laughs out loud.\u003cbr\u003e A real laugh, a belly laugh.\u003cbr\u003e The mood lighter now, the\u003cbr\u003e elevator arrives.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cb\u003eIt’s Been\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Zee and me forever,\u003cbr\u003e same walk to the same school,\u003cbr\u003e same classes, same teachers,\u003cbr\u003e until Papa Zee promised when\u003cbr\u003e the new Boston STEAM charter\u003cbr\u003e school with a focus on the arts\u003cbr\u003e opened in the neighborhood,\u003cbr\u003e Zee could audition.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIt’s been six months since and\u003cbr\u003e I still don’t feel prepared.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eYou scared? \u003c\/i\u003eI ask, falling in step with Zee.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAt least we still get to walk together\u003cbr\u003e most of the way, our schools only\u003cbr\u003e five blocks apart.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eNot scared. Can’t believe it’s literally happening.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003eI’m already good, you know?\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eGood\u003c\/i\u003e is an understatement.\u003cbr\u003e Zee is a violin prodigy.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI’m nowhere close,\u003cbr\u003e but I want to be better.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003eMe too, Zee. Me too.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cb\u003eZander Elliot Ellis Jr.\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e is Zee for short—never loud, or\u003cbr\u003erough and tumble, hard or fast, or\u003cbr\u003e the clown of the class—just Zee.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBecause he’s a junior,\u003cbr\u003e saying \u003ci\u003eZander \u003c\/i\u003emeans\u003cbr\u003e Daddy and son both\u003cbr\u003e turn with those same\u003cbr\u003e big eyes, broad nose,\u003cbr\u003e velvet-brown skin,\u003cbr\u003e with a smirk on\u003cbr\u003e their lips, a question\u003cbr\u003e in their eyes.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWe were born a month apart,\u003cbr\u003e but Zee was twice my size\u003cbr\u003e even as babies, but no match\u003cbr\u003e for my energy in the\u003cbr\u003e playpen where we\u003cbr\u003e cried . . .\u003cbr\u003e wrestled . . .\u003cbr\u003e cuddled . . .\u003cbr\u003e each other before we\u003cbr\u003e crawled . . .\u003cbr\u003e walked . . .\u003cbr\u003e talked.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eZee is more than\u003cbr\u003e my best friend, he’s\u003cbr\u003e like a brother. He’s\u003cbr\u003e family.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWe’re bookends.\u003cbr\u003e We are.\u003cbr\u003e I’m the A to his Z.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003eThe Order of Things\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003ein my life is simple:\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003equiet and efficient,\u003cbr\u003ecalm never commotion,\u003cbr\u003ejust as Mama likes it.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eLike putting on socks before\u003cbr\u003eshoes, letting dough rise before\u003cbr\u003ebaking, kissing Mama good night\u003cbr\u003efirst thing in the morning.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIt’s important.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWe keep our voices low, the\u003cbr\u003etelevision off, even our alarm\u003cbr\u003eclocks don’t beep because we\u003cbr\u003enever set them.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThere’s nothing except books\u003cbr\u003eand magazines to distract us\u003cbr\u003ewhen most people have a\u003cbr\u003etelevision going 24\/7,\u003cbr\u003ereality shows or news,\u003cbr\u003ebut Mama has no patience\u003cbr\u003efor either.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI asked Mama once why\u003cbr\u003ewe live the way we do.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eWarehouse work is noisier than you can imagine.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eAnd don’t get me started about what it was like in the army.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eSilence is golden. It is music to my ears.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA quiet home is a small sacrifice\u003cbr\u003eto keep Mama happy, but wanting\u003cbr\u003eto play the drums makes me\u003cbr\u003ea round peg in a square hole,\u003cbr\u003ealways out of place.","brand":"Nancy Paulsen Books","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46301403545829,"sku":"NP9780593530900","price":17.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780593530900.jpg?v=1767740815","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/the-order-of-things-isbn-9780593530900","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}