Books For 11-12 Year Olds Novels & Stories

81) PEGI means Pan European Game Information. This organization is found to classify computer games in 31 European countries, Israel, and South Africa. The organization was established in 2003 and its job was to give an age rating identification after a comprehensive evaluation of the game. It is mainly divided into 5 types. They are 3+ (content for every period of age), 7+( content for players who is 7 years old or above), 12+( content for players who is 12 years old or above), 16+( content for players who is 16 years old or above) and 18+( content for players who is 18 years old or above). (Liu, p.82)

The kind meant for older kids but that August had started gravitating toward because picture books didn't have enough words. "This one is about a robot who wants to be an astronaut." Carter held up the first book. "And this one is about deep sea creatures. Real ones, not made up. And this one—" He pulled out a thick hardcover. "This one is about how bridges are built. It has diagrams." August's eyes went huge. He took the bridge book with both hands like Carter had given him something precious. Opened to the first page where there was indeed a detailed diagram of bridge architecture. "This is mine? To keep?"

Caught by Grandma chapter 1 My Grandpa passed away 2 years ago, so I visit my Grandma as much as I can. Sometimes, when I have a break from school, I'll go and spend a week with her. You know, to help around the house, doing repairs and such. And I really do enjoy spending time with her. She's not one of those old ladies who just sit around knitting ugly Christmas sweaters and reminiscing about the good old days. Now, don't get me wrong, she does the usual Grandma things like baking cookies and pies (I LOVE her oatmeal raisin cookies) but I can talk to her about anything.

The Little Mermaid popped out at me, as did The Emperor's New Clothes, but I thought maybe a story that people are foolish in public wouldn’t be the best choice. Then I looked around some more and picked up Floca’s Moonshot: The Flight of Apollo 11, Lewis’s The Wolf, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, and Dahl’s Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, and a few others. I paused at the Harry Potter series, but while the girls were old enough, being werewolves, for the story, I knew the sizes of the books would put them off. Next year, I thought. They’d have handled textbooks by then and wouldn’t be so rapidly opposed to books an inch thick or more.

Sensing something was wrong, the two girls followed her, leaving me alone in the bedroom. Their small bookshelves took my attention. Each shelf was labeled with our kids’ names, and the hardbound, colorful books seemed to be according to the girls’ interests. Leyanne’s books were mostly related to human anatomy. Lyra Helene seemed to love chemistry. Only Selene’s books have no specific field preference, but they were still science- and math-related books. They were children’s books, but I could not believe they were reading them instead of fairy tales and nursery rhymes. Trailing the texture of the books, I knew they were expensive. She must have invested in these instead of toys.

Until I met Aiden at least. “I don’t mind books.” I said in a small voice. It is the one thing my family never took away from me. It is the one thing I could say they gave me though, books. No one read them anyway, historical books mostly. I was fascinated by them when I bumped into one when I was twelve. I was running away from Carlson, who was fourteen at the time and it was on the floor. I fell and lost a tooth but I found the book. Carlson then was into the habit of following me around with beheaded dolls promising the same fate to me. They mostly had long blonde hair which he said were similar to mine, and that they represented me and what he would do the same to me one day.

It looked older than the other shelves, and the books there had that old dusty smell, like they hadn’t been touched in a long time. My eyes moved quickly across the titles. I wasn’t sure what I was searching for, but I hoped I would feel it when I saw it. I pulled out a book called Legends of the Moonrise Clans. The pages were yellow and made a soft crackling sound as I turned them. I flipped through it, but it only talked about old Alphas and stories about battles from hundreds of years ago. Nothing about powers. Nothing about girls like me.

"I don't know. I just thought I'd try a long book for a change." "Hey, I just remembered something," Caroline said. "This is funny. When I was in sixth grade, one time I read a really long book, the longest one in the class. Is this for one of Ms. Reeds' famous book reports? Mine was, too. What was it? That's right, The Yearling. It was a great book. A really great book. If you do another long book, read The Yearling." Caroline read The Yearling in sixth grade? Jane hadn't heard of the book until she was in high school.

—Flashback— “Bronx, there’s a monster in my closet. Maybe it’s a witch.” I peek into his room. He’s reading a book. I bet it doesn’t have pictures. He says books with pictures are little kid books. I like books with pictures though. Maybe when I’m ten like him, I won’t like picture books anymore? That sounds boring. I’ll like picture books forever. “There’s no monster or witch in your closet.” He keeps reading. “It’s your imagination.”

A chapter book. The Hobbit. Aurora looked up from where she was tucking Ethan in. "That's... ambitious," she whispered, eyeing the thick paperback. "It's a classic," Liam defended, stepping into the room. "And it has dragons. And treasure. And a very small hero who goes on a big adventure." He looked at Ethan. "What do you think, Tiger? Ready for a real quest?" Ethan’s eyes widened. "Does it have swords?" "Lots of swords," Liam promised.