Book to Share: Olivetti, by Allie Millington

Fun fact: when I was 14 years old, I won $1000 in a writing competition for a story about a little girl's love for a library book–written from the perspective of the library book--its journal through the years. (No, I have never expanded upon that idea of mine, but yes, my mom and my kids all want me to.) It was the first money I ever made from writing, and I used it several years later to buy my dream wedding dress. Not a bad way to get me hooked on the idea of writing as a career.

I bring this up to explain why my nerdy, history-loving little heart got so very excited at the prospect of a book told from the point of view of a typewriter. There are certain inanimate objects–books, typewriters, rocking chairs, quilts, to name a few–that have always seemed to me to hold so many stories. I desperately wished I could see what they had seen, know what they had known or felt, if they could know or feel. In Olivetti, Allie Millington explores that idea, taking it from a whimsical thought to a central plot point, when the typewriter Olivetti turns out to be the only "person" with the information needed to find a family's missing mother. As a writer who has wondered from time to time how I might expand on that old diary of a library book idea…I was impressed by just how beautifully this rather unlikely plot twist worked.

Here's the full publisher's description:

Being a typewriter is not as easy as it looks. Surrounded by books (notorious attention hogs) and recently replaced by a computer, Olivetti has been forgotten by the Brindle family—the family he’s lived with for years. The Brindles are busy humans, apart from 12-year-old Ernest, who would rather be left alone with his collection of Oxford English Dictionaries. The least they could do was remember Olivetti once in a while, since he remembers every word they’ve typed on him. It’s a thankless job, keeping memories alive. 

Olivetti gets a rare glimpse of action from Ernest’s mom, Beatrice--his used-to-be most frequent visitor—only for her to drop him off at Heartland Pawn Shop and leave him helplessly behind. When Olivetti learns Beatrice has mysteriously gone missing afterward, he believes he can help find her. He breaks the only rule of the “typewriterly code” and types back to Ernest, divulging Beatrice’s memories stored inside him. 

Their search takes them across San Francisco—chasing clues, maybe committing a few misdemeanors. As Olivetti spills out the past, Ernest is forced to face what he and his family have been running from, The Everything That Happened. Only by working together will they find Beatrice, belonging, and the parts of themselves they’ve lost.
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What that description doesn't mention may be my very favorite part of the story: the delightful side character of the pawn shop owner's daughter, who really brought the story glowingly to life. (She reminded me wonderfully of Jerry Spinelli's Stargirl.)
As much as I enjoyed this story, there are certain plot elements that may make it too intense for the younger middle grade reader, particularly a parent's physical and mental illness. I won't spoil the story for you by going into too much detail, but feel free to reach out to me if you'd like to know more before handing it to your child.

For more Marvelous Middle Grade Monday recommendations, check out Always in the Middle: http://gpattridge.com