Book Review: I Have a Bed of Made of Buttermilk Pancakes by Jaclyn Moriarty

Say hello to the Zing family - a motley crew of sisters, grandparents, boyfriends, husbands, daughters and cousins. They all have a secret big enough to merit weekly meetings, a bulk discount at the local Spy Supply, and reverential capitalization. It's not just a secret; it's The Zing Family Secret.

With the wish fulfillment and neurotic characters of chick lit, an ensemble cast that includes the teenage characters of Young Adult literature (and a popular Aussie author with a YA pedigree, whose works include The Year of Secret Assignments and Feeling Sorry for Celia, both beloved by tween girls everywhere), the magical elements of urban fantasy and the mystery of the secret itself, I Have a Bed Made of Buttermilk Pancakes is as offbeat a book as you might imagine.

By the time I picked up my copy from the local library, I couldn't remember where the recommendation had come from, or why I had added the book to my list. (My library allows you to have a request list of 50 books. You can make requests temporarily inactive, if you want, and they stay on your list for two years before the request expires. I take full advantage of all elements of this program.) A year after I added it to my list, there in my hands was this book with its minty green cover splattered with clip art illustrations, and a title like something out of nonsense poetry. (Isn't that where the frumious Bandersnatch sleeps? Or was it the Groosalug?)

As I started reading, I found myself asking over and over: why did I request this? I knew there had to be a reason, but had I expected this? In the early pages, the story was such a jumble that I was tempted to put it down. But, I reminded myself: there must have been a recommendation; I must have had a reason. I kept reading. And as I did, the distinctly whimsical writing, the genre-crossing plotlines and the foreshadowing that the jumble was not a mess, but a part of the plot, turned it from a book that I was ready to give up on, into one that I couldn't put down. 

Article Author: Bonnie

Bonnie writes about books every Thursday at Fourth-Rate Reader, about everything else at Signifying Nothing, and sometimes she resorts to pictures. She lives in Toronto.

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