Fish in a tree / Lynda Mullaly Hunt.

Enhanced descriptions from Syndetics:

A New York Times Bestseller!

The author of the beloved One for the Murphys gives readers an emotionally-charged, uplifting novel that will speak to anyone who's ever thought there was something wrong with them because they didn't fit in.

"Everybody is smart in different ways. But if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its life believing it is stupid."

Ally has been smart enough to fool a lot of smart people. Every time she lands in a new school, she is able to hide her inability to read by creating clever yet disruptive distractions. She is afraid to ask for help; after all, how can you cure dumb? However, her newest teacher Mr. Daniels sees the bright, creative kid underneath the trouble maker. With his help, Ally learns not to be so hard on herself and that dyslexia is nothing to be ashamed of. As her confidence grows, Ally feels free to be herself and the world starts opening up with possibilities. She discovers that there's a lot more to her--and to everyone--than a label, and that great minds don't always think alike.

Excerpt provided by Syndetics

Chapter 1 In Trouble Again It's always there. Like the ground underneath my feet. "Well, Ally? Are you going to write or aren't you?" Mrs. Hall asks. If my teacher were mean it would be easier. "C'mon," she says. "I know you can do it." "What if I told you that I was going to climb a tree using only my teeth? Would you say I could do it then?" Oliver laughs, throwing himself on his desk like it's a fumbled football. Shay groans. "Ally, why can't you just act normal for once?" Near her, Albert, a bulky kid who's worn the same thing every day--a dark T-shirt that reads Flint--sits up straight. Like he's waiting for a firecracker to go off. Mrs. Hall sighs. "C'mon, now. I'm only asking for one page describing yourself." I can't think of anything worse than having to describe myself. I'd rather write about something more positive. Like throwing up at your own birthday party. "It's important," she says. "It's so your new teacher can get to know you." I know that, and it's exactly why I don't want to do it. Teachers are like the machines that take quarters for bouncy balls. You know what you're going to get. Yet, you don't know, too. "And," she says. "All that doodling of yours, Ally. If you weren't drawing all the time, your work might be done. Please put it away." Embarrassed, I slide my drawings underneath my blank writing assignment. I've been drawing pictures of myself being shot out of a cannon. It would be easier than school. Less painful. "C'mon," she says, moving my lined paper toward me. "Just do your best." Seven schools in seven years and they're all the same. Whenever I do my best, they tell me I don't try hard enough. Too messy. Careless spelling. Annoyed that the same word is spelled different ways on the same page. And the headaches. I always get headaches from looking at the brightness of dark letters on white pages for too long. Mrs. Hall clears her throat. The rest of the class is getting tired of me again. Chairs slide. Loud sighs. Maybe they think I can't hear their words: Freak. Dumb. Loser. I wish she'd just go hang by Albert, the walking Google page who'd get a better grade than me if he just blew his nose into the paper. The back of my neck heats up. I don't get it. She always let me slide. It must be because these are for the new teacher and she can't have one missing. I stare at her big stomach. "So, did you decide what you're going to name the baby?" I ask. Last week we got her talking about baby names for a full half hour of social studies. "C'mon, Ally. No more stalling." I don't answer. "I mean it," she says, and I know she does. I watch a mind movie of her taking a stick and drawing a line in the dirt between us under a bright blue sky. She's dressed as a sheriff and I'm wearing black and white prisoner stripes. My mind does this all the time--shows me these movies that seem so real that they carry me away inside of them. They are a relief from my real life. I steel up inside, willing myself to do something I don't really want to do. To escape this teacher who's holding on and won't let go. I pick up my pencil and her body relaxes, probably relieved that I've given in. But, instead, knowing she loves clean desks and things just so, I grip my pencil with a hard fist. And scribble all over my desk. "Ally!" She steps forward quick. "Why would you do that?" The circular scribbles are big on top and small on the bottom. It looks like a tornado and I wonder if I meant to draw a picture of my insides. I look back up at her. "It was there when I sat down." The laughter starts--but they're not laughing because they think I'm funny. "I can tell that you're upset, Ally," Mrs. Hall says. I am not hiding that as well as I need to. "She's such a freak," Shay says in one of those loud whispers that everyone is meant to hear. Oliver is drumming on his desk now. "That's it," Mrs. Hall finally says. "To the office. Now." I wanted this but now I am having second thoughts. "Ally." "Huh?" Everyone laughs again. She puts up her hand. "Anyone else who makes a sound gives up their recess." The room is quiet. "Ally. I said to the office." I can't go see our principal, Mrs. Silver, again. I go to the office so much, I wonder when they'll hang up a banner that says, "Welcome, Ally Nickerson!" "I'm sorry," I say, actually meaning it. "I'll do it. I promise." She sighs. "Okay, Ally, but if that pencil stops moving, you're going." She moves me to the reading table next to a Thanksgiving bulletin board about being grateful. Meanwhile, she sprays my desk with cleaner. Glancing at me like she'd like to spray me with cleaner. Scrub off the dumb. I squint a bit, hoping the lights will hurt my head less. And then I try to hold my pencil the way I'm supposed to instead of the weird way my hand wants to. I write with one hand and shield my paper with the other. I know I better keep the pencil moving, so I write the word "Why?" over and over from the top of the page to the very bottom. One, because I know how to spell it right and, two, because I'm hoping someone will finally give me an answer. Excerpted from Fish in a Tree by Lynda Mullaly Hunt 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.

Reviews provided by Syndetics

Publishers Weekly Review

Sixth-grader Ally Nickerson has been to seven schools in seven years, and the same thing happens at each one: she spends more time in the principal's office than in class. The pattern is repeating at Ally's current school until a long-term substitute teacher, Mr. Daniels, discovers that Ally is acting out to hide the fact that she can't read. Ally is deeply ashamed and has bought into what others have told her-that she's dumb and worthless-but Mr. Daniels helps her understand that she has dyslexia and see her talents and intelligence. As Ally's fragile confidence grows, she connects with two other classroom outsiders, Albert and Keisha. Hunt (One for the Murphys) leans heavily on familiar types (a two-dimensional mean-girl and her sycophantic best friend, a teacher with unconventional methods) and a surfeit of relevant metaphors (coins valuable because of their flaws, former planet Pluto-"Too small. Too far away. Orbit not just right"-and so on). Nevertheless, her depiction of Ally's learning struggles is relatable, and Ally's growth and relationships feel organic and real. Ages 10-up. Agent: Erin Murphy, Erin Murphy Literary Agency. (Feb.) © Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.

School Library Journal Review

Gr 4-6-Ally is a talented artist and a math whiz but her skills don't stop her from feeling dumb as she begins sixth grade. Ally finds letters on the page almost impossible to decode because they seem to move around; trying to make sense of them gives her headaches. To add to her problems, her military dad is deployed overseas and she's struggling to cope with the death of her much-loved grandfather. After being misunderstood by another teacher, Ally is transferred to Mr. Daniels's class. Mr. Daniels is supportive amd encourages Ally to let go of her protective shell. In this class she meets Keisha and Alfred, students with differnces of their own, and they help and support one another, identifying their individual strengths. Kathleen McInerney's reading effectively captures the characters' personalities: Ally's insecurity, Keisha's confidence, science-loving Alfred's robot-like affect, and their snarky classmate, hard-to-like Shay. Adult characterizations also ring true from the concern of Ally's mother to Mr. Daniels's creativity and enthusiasm. The conclusion is both plausible and satisfying. A letter to readers from the author (and read by her) adds a touching personal dimension to the subject of learning differences. -VERDICT Recommended for any student who sometimes feels like an outcast, especially those who face learning challenges.-Maria Salvadore, formerly of the Washington, DC Public Library © Copyright 2015. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

Booklist Review

*Starred Review* Ally doesn't fit in. She draws beautifully and can create movies in her mind, but she is often bullied and hides the fact that she cannot read. Now in her seventh school, she plans to pull the wool over the eyes of her sixth-grade teacher, as she has done with many other teachers in the past. But Mr. Daniels is different. He believes in Ally, insisting she is smart, and it's almost enough to make her want to try his different way of learning. Could she actually, possibly learn to read? Filled with a delightful range of quirky characters and told with tons of heart, the story also explores themes of family, friendship, and courage in its many forms. And while a girl with dyslexia may be the center of the book, it has something to offer for a wide-ranging audience, making this an excellent class read-aloud. A hopeful and meaningful choice for those who struggle academically, this is as unique as its heroine.--Moore, Melissa Copyright 2014 Booklist

Horn Book Review

Ally Nickerson may be well spoken and have a great sense of humor, but something is not right. Why is this sixth grader spending so much time in the principal's office? Why is she doing such impulsive and destructive things? Why do the mean girls, Shay and Jessica, continually torment her? It's not just that she is a new girl in school, though attending seven schools in seven years has taken its toll. There is something else. When her teacher goes on maternity leave, Ally humiliates herself by giving Mrs. Hall a sympathy card rather than the expected baby card. She is not trying to be cruel; she simply cannot read, and for some reason, no one has discovered this until now. When substitute teacher Mr. Daniels arrives, with his new instructional techniques and his love for his "Fantasticos" (i.e., students), Ally knows things are going to change. This has all the required parts of a school story: the mean girls, the quirky but lovable boys, the new BFF who sticks up for herself and others, and the heroic teacher. These secondary characters add richness to the story and help Ally, who is telling her own tale in the first person, to grow as a learner and person. While the resolution to Ally's struggles with reading and social acceptance happens too quickly, readers will nevertheless cheer for this likable girl. robin smith (c) Copyright 2015. The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

Kirkus Book Review

Hunt draws a portrait of dyslexia and getting along. Ally Nickerson, who's passed through seven schools in seven years, maintains a Sketchbook of Impossible Things. A snowman in a furnace factory is more plausible than imagining herself doing something rightlike reading. She doesn't know why, but letters dance and give her headaches. Her acting out to disguise her difficulty causes headaches for her teachers, who, oddly, never consider dyslexia, even though each notices signs like inconsistent spellings of the same word. Ally's confusion is poignant when misunderstandings like an unintentional sympathy card for a pregnant teacher make her good intentions backfire, and readers will sympathize as she copes with the class "mean girls." When a creative new teacher, Mr. Daniels, steps in, the plot turns more uplifting but also metaphor-heavy; a coin with a valuable flaw, cupcakes with hidden letters, mystery boxes and references to the Island of Misfit Toys somewhat belabor the messages that things aren't always what they seem and everyone is smart in their own ways. Despite emphasis on "thinking outside the box," characters are occasionally stereotypicala snob, a brainiac, an unorthodox teacherbut Ally's new friendships are satisfying, as are the recognition of her dyslexia and her renewed determination to read. Fans of R.J. Palacio's Wonder (2012) will appreciate this feel-good story of friendship and unconventional smarts. (Fiction. 10-12) Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.