Kate Dicamillo Books By Age Novels & Stories

"I was getting to know you. Now, what's your favorite book?" "Too easy, Flowers in the attic. Next." "That's kind of a dark one. Okay... how old are you?" "Twenty-Two. Birthday is in April." "What's your favorite animal? And you can't say a panther." She smirks a little, pulling the crust off the grilled cheese she'd chosen as she thinks.

"I was at the library and I found some I thought you'd like. Want to see?" August nodded so vigorously I was worried about his neck. Carter sat on my living room floor right there in the entryway and started pulling books from the bag. Not picture books. Chapter books. The kind meant for older kids but that August had started gravitating toward because picture books didn't have enough words.

Catherine was fourteen months old. She didn’t toddle anymore. She walked with intention. Unsteady only when distracted. Determined when focused. The apartment had shifted again to match her growth. The foam activity mats were gone. In their place stood a small wooden table scarred by spoon impacts and bite marks. Board books lived in low stacks. Cabinet locks remained. Cameras remained. Catherine crossed the living room clutching a picture book upside down. “Book,” she announced. “Yes,” Alex said.

“You read a lot?” Kai nodded. “Damien does. I started picking it up more. Helps when my head gets loud.” Kaicen flipped through the pages. “I never had many books growing up. One home had a small library. I read the same ones over and over. Stories about brothers finding each other. Never thought it would happen to me.” Kai stood up and joined him at the shelf. “Now it did. In the messiest way possible. But we’re here. That counts for something.”

Any sensible person would think they could easily plan something evil. Because of that, I spent most of my time in the library. Sometimes, I was not reading but looking through the vast catalogue and picking out the books that sounded interesting. That afternoon, I had piled up twenty books on the table. I was still looking for more when the door opened and Leilani walked in. It was almost lunch time so I figured she had come to invite me for it. “Hello,” I said. “Hey,” she said, picking up one of the books on the table. It was The Graveyard book by Neil Gaiman. “This looks like a children’s book.”

"By the way, how old are you? You're so capable. Have you been learning it for a long time?" Gladyce remarked with a disdainful chuckle. "Yes, I have been learning it for a long time. When I was born, I was doomed to do this. But I'm not that old. I'm 20 years old this year." Gladyce's heart thumped even faster when she said that. She wondered, "Will Anne tell that person one day that she has once received help from a girl in Country A and the girl is called Gladyce and 20 years old?"

Alice encouraged him, also wanting to see him have this type of interaction with Millicent, even though she knew she shouldn't “Honey, what story do you want to hear today?” “Uh…” Millie’s small footsteps echoed across the floor, as she walked over to her box of books and rummaged through it for a moment, before rushing back to the two with “The Ugly Ducking! Here!” she left the thin illustrated book on Massimo's lap, running towards Alice with open arms, so she could put her on the bed “Up, mommy!” “So... Uh... I just read?” Massimo asked, looking at the book as if he were seeing an alien.

The prospect of international expansion filled him with a sense of excitement and urgency, driving him to take actionable steps toward making his vision a reality. Camille, in contrast to her peers, was thriving in school, demonstrating an intelligence that far exceeded her years. By the age of four, she had not only grasped basic concepts but was also aware of her responsibilities in a way that many children her age were not. She could articulate her thoughts clearly, follow complex instructions, and even help her classmates with simple tasks, showcasing a maturity and understanding that was remarkable. Her teachers often remarked on her ability to tackle challenges with confidence and crea

I asked, pointing at a picture half covered by a paper in the corner of the room. Kira leaned down to pick it up, and we both looked at it together, fingers touching each other, it was a childhood shot of Cammile with a girl who looked exactly like her. But younger. Softer, and Camille was pardon me ‘happier’ makes me wonder what happened and how she ended up a slave to LM. “Within the pages of an Old children’s book was a ripped postcard. ‘For when it burns down, she will know what to do’

Is she a witch? Camille disrupted his thoughts and entered the bedroom. “That was difficult, but it’s all done.” He turned to her. “When’s the last time you read these books?” “Wow. Ten years ago. Maybe. Why?” He looked at the book. “When I read the words, it makes Dire and me uneasy.” “What?” She walked over and took one of the books from the shelf. “Why?” “I don’t know. Earlier, you said that you remembered hearing the story of the first vampires from your books.”