The Bubble Wrap Boy, by Phil Earle
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The Bubble Wrap Boy, by Phil Earle
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"Middle school readers will easily relate to the situational humor and school life, but everyone should read this book for its message. The Bubble Wrap Boy is perfect for fans of R.J. Palacio’s Wonder and will be an excellent addition to any library or classroom."--VOYACharlie Han’s troubles are much bigger than he is. At school he’s branded an outsider, a loser—the tiny kid from the Chinese takeout. His only ally is Sinus Sedgely, a kid with a lower-level reputation than Charlie himself. Life at home isn’t much better. His dad is more skilled with a wok than he is with words, and his mom is suffocating the life out of Charlie, worried about his every move. But when a new passion leads Charlie to the mother of all confrontations, he finds his real mom has been hiding a massive secret. A secret that while shocking, might actually lead Charlie to feeling ten feet tall. Bubble Wrap Boy is a funny and inspiring novel about friendship, family, and one undersized boy's ability to think BIG. "In the fast-growing bullying genre, Charlie's story stands out. This isn't a kid who will do anything to join the cool clique. This is a story about staying true to yourself and following your passion."--Kirkus"Earle excels at showing personal growth in the characters, and it is gratifying to observe the believable evolution of Sinus’s and Charlie’s parents. VERDICT Family drama with a solid mix of action, adventure, and humor."--SLJ "Charlie is a character to root for. He is witty and perceptive and has a secret weapon in his best friend, Sinus Sedgely."--Booklist "Charlie's amusing sarcasm masks a vulnerability that will resonate with anyone who has felt like an outsider. The humiliation of being the butt of a joke is sensitively rendered, as is Charlie's slow reclamation of his pride in this witty, true-to-life story."--Publisher's Weekly
The Bubble Wrap Boy, by Phil Earle - Amazon Sales Rank: #229490 in Books
- Brand: Delacorte Books for Young Readers
- Published on: 2015-10-13
- Released on: 2015-10-13
- Original language: English
- Number of items: 1
- Dimensions: 8.50" h x .80" w x 5.80" l, 1.25 pounds
- Binding: Hardcover
- 288 pages
The Bubble Wrap Boy, by Phil Earle From School Library Journal Gr 4–7—Charlie Han is small for his age and uncoordinated and possesses limited social skills. Those problems pale in comparison to the challenge of his mother, who is so protective that she still keeps a baby gate at the top of the stairs, and makes him ride a tricycle rather than a bicycle. Charlie's life changes the day he sees a boy on a skateboard. Deciding that he needs to try it himself, despite the knowledge that his mother would never let him, Charlie learns that he has real talent. His covert training is inevitably discovered by his mother, who publicly humiliates him, stripping him of his skateboard and all privileges. While grounded, Charlie finds out that he's not the only one in his family with a secret. His mother has been hiding a shocking one, and Charlie begins to understand her overprotective nature. He develops a closer relationship with his previously distant father and soon hatches a plan to bring the family secret out into the open. The Bubble Wrap Boy begins slowly, with Earle spending the first few chapters showing how awkward and socially inept Charlie is. Thankfully, the pace picks up when Charlie begins skating, and the tempo further accelerates when the boy discovers his mother's secret. Important topics such as bullying, resiliency, and shifting family dynamics are explored in this coming-of-age novel. Charlie's sidekick Sinus provides welcome comic relief and widens the novel's appeal. Charlie is a likable character, and his first-person narration allow readers to experience firsthand the highs and lows of a remarkable year in his life, though his voice often sounds older than his intended age. Earle excels at showing personal growth in the characters, and it is gratifying to observe the believable evolution of Sinus's and Charlie's parents. VERDICT Family drama with a solid mix of action, adventure, and humor. Purchase where upper middle grade coming-of-age novels are in demand.—Juliet Morefield, Multnomah County Library, OR
About the Author Phil Earle's first job was as a care worker in a children's home, an experience that influenced the ideas behind Being Billy. He then trained as a drama therapist and worked in south London, caring for traumatized and abused adolescents. After a couple of years in the care sector, Phil chose the more sedate lifestyle of a bookseller, and now works in children's publishing.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. 1There’s a saying that I hate.I know it shouldn’t bother me like it does, because it’s only a saying.A sentence.Six words. Five of which are one syllable long.I’m sure there are more irritating phrases; in fact, I know there are.For example, my skin itches every time Sinus hides his hideous lack of tact behind his beloved:You’d rather hear it than be deaf. . . . Or my late, great, flatulent granddad’s only pearl of wisdom:Pull my finger. . . . Believe me, if he ever uttered those fateful words to you in an enclosed space, it was time to leave. Quickly.The reason I hate this other saying so much is because of the number of times it’s rolled out in front of me, like the heavenly answer to my (to date) underwhelming existence.Good things come in small packages.Okay, it’s out there, burning my throat with vomit at its very utterance. But at least I don’t have to say it again.Have you ever heard a cornier, glibber, more patronizing sentence in your life?What does it mean? It has no substance, no subtext, nothing.All it is, is a gargantuan, ironic pat on the head from people who really want to tell you that your life as a short person is going to be packed with woe and anguish.Come on, people. If that’s what you’re thinking, then give it to me straight. I have broad shoulders (for my size).I reconciled myself to my height, or massive lack of it, long ago. Long before I started junior high and couldn’t reach my locker, well before being mistaken for a nursery-school kid as I started my final year of elementary school.It’s how it’s always been, no alarms and no surprises.When I look in the mirror I see a short kid, or the top of a short kid’s head, anyway.And I think I’d deal with it even better if people didn’t keep ramming that sentence down my throat.I’ve heard it so often in the last two years that I’ve started obsessing over it, trying to prove the theory wrong with cold hard facts.I want to blow their lame words clean out of the water and say (in the ridiculous squeaky voice that came with my stupidly small body) . . . “HA! SEE?? I will always be a clumsy feckless failure, not the ‘big’ package you claim I am.”Let me give you an example. In fact, let me give you loads of them.Here’s a carousel of famous small people, and all of them, deeply flawed.Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec (1864–1901)Painter, printmaker, innovator, short-ass.So short was Toulouse that he turned to alcohol to drown his sorrows, inventing a lethal cocktail called the Earthquake, which he took to hiding in his specially adapted walking cane.By the age of twenty-nine he was pickled in booze and rife with unseemly disease, and by the age of thirty-six, well, he was dead.Toulouse was one of the success stories--at least he left behind the legacy of his work, unlike this next mob.Genghis Khan, Pol Pot, Stalin, Mussolini, Hitler: a collection of tyrants not bettered in ancient or modern history, and not one of them more than five foot nine inches tall.Talk about small-man syndrome.Makes me wonder (for like a millisecond) whether I should consider a life in politics. They might have been hideous tyrants, but I bet they were tyrants with women hanging off them. And I don’t mean their mothers. Mind you, I bet Genghis’s mom was a lot more easygoing than mine.It’s not just historical short dudes who were losers either. Look around now and it’s hard to find a positive role model. I mean:Tom Cruise (nose)Prince (The Purple Perv? They’d never have dared to call him that if he were taller.)Diego Maradona (single‑handedly cheated England out of the 1986 World Cup)The Ewoks (ruined what would have been the best movie trilogy of all time)I could go on, fill another page or two at least, but you’d get the wrong idea about me. I’m not bitter. It might read like I am, but I’m not, honest.When opportunity comes my way, I try to take it.Even if that means grabbing the nearest stepladder and leaning precariously from the very top rung. If that’s what it takes, then fine--I’m up for it.My problem is that every time I try, every time I reach up and try something new, the stepladder topples over in the most public way possible, and I topple with it.The bruises might fade, but my reputation doesn’t.To everyone who knows me I’m Tiny Charlie from the Chinese takeout place. Clumsy, klutzy Charlie Han, who should know better but never learns.And that’s the bit that stings way worse than being labeled a shortie.Because if there’s a saying I do believe in, it’s this:Everyone’s good at something.I do believe that.I do.I have to.Because the alternative just isn’t worth thinking about.All I have to do is work out what my something is.The thing that turns me from an Ewok to . . . I don’t know, Yoda?Yep, Yoda. I’d settle for that in a second. A millisecond, even.Despite the ears. Despite the green.So that’s it. Until I find my thing, I’m channeling one hundred percent pure, unadulterated Yoda.Find it I must. My calling it is.Note to self: Drop the Yoda-speak. Girls won’t go for it.2I breathed deeply, nerves prickling beneath my costume.“Don’t be a clown,” I told myself. It wasn’t the most demanding role, after all. No time onstage with Romeo or Juliet; no lines or interaction either--well, apart from with the lifeless body of Mercutio as I dragged him offstage. Couldn’t imagine I’d be troubling the reviewers with the complexity of my performance.I waited for Matty Dias to stop milking Mercutio’s death, figuring my birthday would come around by the time he stopped writhing around, calling for his mommy (I didn’t remember that part in the original text).I wasn’t jealous of him, though. I hadn’t expected to find my name next to a main part when I ducked through people’s legs to read the cast list pinned to the bulletin board. It would’ve been a brave move to give a part to someone who sounded like they were addicted to helium.I’d hoped to bag a part with a name, though, rather than just Body Dragger Number Two. I’d run to the library to see what the script said it involved but couldn’t find a reference anywhere. Even Google threw up a blank. I knew then that it was going to be the bittiest bit part, the sort they offer up to the talentless kids, you know, just so they feel involved. There seemed little point in begging for a promotion to BD Number One. . . . It didn’t take me long to get over it; it was a foot in the door, after all. A stepping-stone.I just had to make sure I didn’t fall over it.As the lights finally dimmed on Mercutio, I adjusted my hat (which, like every bit of my costume, was way too big) and strode purposefully to center stage. Wiping a single imaginary tear from my cheek (my own exquisite addition to the role), I gripped the fallen warrior underneath the shoulders and leaned back, expecting his body to slide across the stage, just like it had in the dress rehearsal.Except nothing moved.I pulled harder, my body arching further, yet it was like Mercutio had been replaced by the deadest of weights.Whispers started to roll from the audience, followed by chuckles that only grew louder with every useless tug I made.“What are you doing?” hissed the resurrected corpse.“Aren’t you supposed to be dead?” I squeaked back quietly, though it must have come out as a stage whisper, as the first four rows threw back their heads and laughed.I tried to figure out what was stopping us, finally catching sight of his sword, wedged between floorboards, pinning him to the stage.“It’s your sword, it’s--”“Just pull, you idiot!”So I did, and after several monumental efforts the blade finally dislodged itself, sending both the corpse and me skidding backward across the stage.I fought to stay upright, but with Mercutio’s weight on top of me I delivered the most ungraceful dance ever witnessed on any stage. The Royal Ballet it wasn’t.There was a gasp from the audience as we thudded against a pillar, the biggest reaction there’d been all evening, and for a split second I wondered if I’d accidentally created a bit of real theater.But then I felt the pillar wobble behind me, accelerating quickly into a tilt. You see, the pillar was actually a pretty pivotal bit of the set, beneath Juliet’s balcony, so if it fell, well, the odds were the balcony would too. . . . Matty Dias was way ahead of me in his structural assessment, fully alive now as he ran, screaming, for the wings.I followed him quickly as the pillar hurtled toward the stage, watching in horror as the balcony started to shake.To make it worse, the stage lights were now back up, ready for the next scene. I saw Romeo (Robbie Bootle, our school’s most popular student) stride center stage, lost in his own grief, completely unaware that if the balcony fell he’d be the next person to be mourned.I had to do something, so I dashed behind the balcony to see the entire set lurching precariously forward. The stage weights holding it all in place were rapidly becoming dislodged, the main rope that anchored it at the middle unraveling cartoon-style.Without thinking, I sprinted for the rope and leapt on it. If I could retether it, then everything would hold still and Romeo wouldn’t die quite yet or quite as literally.It was the right idea--of course it was. At least, it was if you were of normal size and weight. But my impact on the rope was minimal, like a fly landing on an elephant, hoping to stop him from thundering on.Within a second I knew it wasn’t going to work, and as the balcony whooshed forward and I impersonated Tarzan on a vine, it was clear I could save either myself or the hapless Romeo. I may not be a coward, but I’m not an idiot either. With one final graceless movement I crumpled to the ground, shouting as I fell.“Jump, Romeo! Jump!!”I doubted he heard me above the cacophonous din created by the tumbling timber and three hundred terrified audience members.All I could do was roll into a ball and hope for the best.The fair city of Verona looked more like the battlefields of Baghdad.Splintered scenery jutted from the stage at unusual angles, and the stage lights swung perilously over the audience, highlighting that the damage wasn’t restricted to the set.There in the front row of the audience, spread‑eagled on the laps of the mayor and his wife, lay the love-struck Romeo, his chin savaged by the medal on the dignitary’s tie clip.No one moved at first, not even me (though I allowed myself to gasp for air in relief). The mayor’s wife had taken the brunt of the blow, but she showed little emotion. She simply sat there, frozen, hand suspended in the air, still clutching her bag of malted milk balls. Robbie had a lot to thank her love of chocolate balls for. It had given him the softest of landings.His head wasn’t quite so cushioned. The tie clip had gouged a jagged hole in his chin that was spraying blood all over the mayor’s suit. Mom would have had a fit if she’d seen it. Blood is murder to clean, apparently.I wandered to the front of the stage, leaning forward as I asked, “You all right, Robbie?”“Drop the curtain!” came the cry from the wings, which might have made me giggle if I hadn’t been in so much trouble.It was a bit late for that. Three hundred square feet of red velvet was not enough to hide this carnage, not unless they were going to drape it over the audience as well.The curtain fell anyway, swooshing into me with such force that it almost knocked me on top of Robbie. Fighting its folds as it enveloped me, I decided that now might be the right time to make a quick exit. It wouldn’t take anyone long to put two and two together and spell Charlie Han.I scuttled, crablike, toward the wings, head down, best “not guilty” face plastered on, but just as my feet hit the shadows my own name assaulted my eardrums.It should’ve been a moment, the moment, the one to define me--after all, I’d dreamed of hearing Carly Stoneham call my name since the start of junior high.Although in those fantasies she was calling it playfully, with a chuckle, as if I’d said something dazzling and witty.She certainly wasn’t bellowing it at me, every letter packed tight with rattlesnake venom.I think it’s fair to say she wasn’t in character anymore, unless Juliet actually turned out to be a kick‑ass hit girl, hell‑bent on avenging Romeo’s minor chin wound.She still looked pretty, though, even if her immaculately braided hair was as big a casualty as Robbie. Incandescent rage clearly suited her.“What did you do that for?” she yelled.“Do what?” I hoped she was as forgiving as she was pretty.“Let go of the rope like that! You knew it was anchoring the balcony in place.”My cheeks flushed with shame. “I couldn’t help it. The weight of it was lifting me up. If I hadn’t let go, I’d have gone flying.”“Well, better that than let it fall on Robbie. If he hadn’t been so athletic, it would have crushed him.”“He’s all right, though, isn’t he?” I cringed at the sight of him, chin still erupting. “He’s a center forward--diving’s second nature.”My lame attempt at humor was met with a volcanic look.“No, he’s not all right. He’ll probably have to go to the emergency room for stitches and the mayor’s wife’s gown will need dry-cleaning. Mrs. Gee has canceled the play and now I’m never going to go out with him, am I?”I felt for her, really I did. So much so that without a thought for myself, I volunteered to save the day by taking on Robbie’s part. But when that resulted in other cast members having to restrain Carly from attacking me, I realized I’d learned Robbie’s lines in vain.Still, it wouldn’t be a waste. I could regurgitate them in an exam soon enough. Learning Mercutio’s speeches as well might have been overkill, though I’d done it with the most honorable of intentions. He was a funny guy, quick with the rapier wit. If I were the fair Juliet, I might get tired of Romeo’s wailing and let his best friend cop a feel instead.
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3 of 3 people found the following review helpful. BWB, You're All Right With Me! By L.W. Samuelson This book represents the best in children's literature. It takes an unlikely, small Asian boy who is bullied and reviled by others and makes him a hero. I loved not only the story but the character of Charlie Han. His mother is so worried about him getting hurt that she makes him deliver take-out from their restaurant on a tricycle covered in reflecting tape. She 's so overprotective that she makes him wear swimming goggles to help decorate the Christmas tree! This is just two of the many images that make the story hilarious. This misfit has but one friend, a boy named Linus Sedgely, otherwise know as Sinus because his nose is so big. Once given the nickname it "stuck firmer than a fossilized booger under a desk." The two boys are ridiculed and reviled until Charlie takes up skateboarding. His overprotective, overbearing mother over reacts when she finds out and berates him in front of a group of skaters.The incident goes viral and Charlie become the brunt of bullying. One cruel incident includes bubble wrap. When the two boys team up in an attempt to make their walk of shame into a confident strut the plot takes an interesting turn.This book is impeccably written with humor and sensitivity and peopled with believable characters and real life dilemmas. I started the book yesterday and finished it today. So much for yard work and the dirty dishes in the sink. Seriously, this is a really good book. It touched my heart and I wish I had written it!
2 of 2 people found the following review helpful. A Satifying, Heartwarming Read ... By delicateflower152 “The Bubble Wrap Boy” is a book that will resonate with every young reader who has been made to feel like an outsider. Phil Earle does an excellent job of expressing the frustration and the rebellion that ‘tweens and teens experience as a result of social and parental expectations.Charlie Han is different. He is undersized. He has only one friend – Linus “Sinus” Sedgely – and Sinus is weirder than Charlie. He has a very overprotective mother who is always taking night classes. His father runs the family’s Chinese takeout and says little, deferring to Charlie’s mother. Charlie delivers orders for his parents’ takeout using a tricycle because his mother wants him to be safe.When Charlie discovers skateboarding, he is enthralled. As Charlie gains confidence in his skateboarding skills, he sets his goal to compete in the half-pipe challenge at the local skate park. An unusual phone call results in Charlie discovering the truth about the reason for his mother being overprotective. Events develop and individual actions resulting from these situations coalesce into a satisfying, heartwarming conclusion.Phil Earle understands his characters and their emotions; his grasp of the ‘tween/teen psyche is exceptional. As “The Bubble Wrap Boy” progresses, Charlie and Sinus both develop and mature. Their friendship deepens from one based on their being “different” into one based on mutual respect and caring. In addition, both Mr. and Mrs. Han change for the better and begin to see Charlie as a maturing individual and not a little boy.“The Bubble Wrap Boy” is an excellent book and one that both adults and the target audience – ages 10 and older will enjoy.
1 of 1 people found the following review helpful. Life Can Be Difficult At Times By prisrob School can be a difficult place for many children. If you are not in the 'in' crowd, and how many are, you often have feelings that you are not worthy. Bullying in school has become a big topic and a big problem, and many are trying to solve these dilemmas.Charlie Han was a nice young man, small in stature, and bullied at school. His parents ran a Chinese take-out, and he delivered the food by tricycle. Charlie's mother was so over protective, and she was so afraid he would get hurt. Charlie's father did the cooking at the Chinese take-out, and didn't have much to say. Charlie had one friend at school, Linus or 'sinus' as he was called at school. Linus was higher in the pecking order than Charlie was, and they got along.Charlie learned a new sport, and that was skate boarding. In fact he was so good that he wanted to compete in the next big sister boarding contest. Linus was all for it, mom was not. Charlie was building up his confidence which was a very big thing. One day Charlie overheard a very big secret on the phone. This changed his entire world, and for the good. This book is one that every child should read. Those that are bullied, and those that do the bullying will learn a great deal. It is not as important to be the best kid, but it's important to know your values and to stick to them.The author has written such a great book for children. Life is difficult at times,and it helps to read about others who have the same problem.Recommended. prisrob 09-12-15
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