IN "Alabama Moon," his first novel, Watt Key has an unusual coming-of-age story to tell. Ten-year-old Moon Blake lives with his "Pap," an antigovernment war veteran on the far side of paranoid. Since Moon was a toddler, Pap has kept him squirreled away deep in the Alabama woods, far from roads or power lines in "one small room built halfway into the ground." The forest they inhabit is vividly portrayed (not surprisingly, since according to the author's Web site, he spent much of his childhood hunting and fishing in the Alabama woods). But the most riveting images describe a world more rarely seen - the world of extreme survivalist isolation. "Our windows were narrow slits for shooting through and the trees that you saw out of these windows were pocked and chipped from years of Pap and me practicing a stage-one defense," Moon says matter-of-factly. From the first sentence of the novel we know that everything will not be O.K. "Just before Pap died, he told me that I'd be fine as long as I never depended on anybody but myself." By the end of the first chapter, we're rooting for Moon to break free of his lonely existence. Pap had said there were "other people like us" in Alaska, so after he dies of an infected wound, that is where Moon heads. His blind faith in Pap allows him to believe he can simply walk to Alaska from Alabama alone, toting his dried coon meat, traps, rifle and hatchet in a wheelbarrow. But while he has grown up learning to fend for himself - trap and grow food, find fresh water, build a shelter - Moon doesn't know how to be with people. He's quick to "whip up on" anyone who threatens him; yet he's not the "wild boy" or "stinkin' militia trash" people see him as. He's just a displaced person trying desperately to find his place in the world. Key has created a rich cast of supporting characters for Moon. After a night in jail (the best place he's ever been, because of the warm food and hot shower), Moon lands in Pinson, a boys' home. Right away, he has to fight off the resident bully, Hal Mitchell. An unlikely friendship begins when Moon takes Hal's punishment for him and sleeps outside in his place. Hal has long worked the tough-guy facade, but we quickly see his decent heart. For one thing, there are the two bloodhounds let loose by the brutal Constable Sanders when the friends escape from Pinson: dogs are always drawn to the good guys, and these two would rather follow Hal forever than return to their awful owner. Moon also meets Kit, a sickly boy who is fascinated by him and wants to help. Kit has been in and out of detention centers, but once he's on his own with Moon in the woods, he has the time of his life. Through his eyes, we see the value of the knowledge Moon gained during his strange childhood. "Kit began to learn how things were done, and I had to show him less and less." The relationships Moon develops are crucial to his realization that he doesn't want to live in isolation. He later tells Hal: "I'm glad you came and got me. I don't wanna be out there by myself anymore." Although the ending feels too neat and quickly tied up, Moon's coming to terms with his father's legacy is expertly timed. The boy has always accepted Pap's skewed perception of the world as his own, and Constable Sanders initially gives him reason to hold firm to his father's beliefs. The government is after him, and does intend him harm. But when Kit gets sick in the wilderness and Moon can't make him better with herbs, he eventually must question everything he thought was true. Moon finally realizes that his survival is dependent upon his rejection of his father's survivalist ideals. As imperfect a world as it may be, people need each other. Not only to survive, but to truly live. Tanya Lee Stone is the author of the young adult novel "A Bad Boy Can Be Good for a Girl."

In elegant free verse, Weatherford imagines Tubman's remarkable escape from slavery and her role in guiding hundreds to freedom. Diverse typography braids three distinct narrative strands. White or black type delivers the third-person immediacy of Harriet's journey: "At nightfall, Harriet climbs into a wagon, / and the farmer covers her with blankets. / As the wagon wobbles along, Harriet worries that it is heading to jail." Larger, italic type telegraphs the devout Harriet's prayerful dialogue with God: "Shall I leap, Lord?" God's responses to her beseeching questions garner capitalized letters in warm grays. Nelson's double-page, full-bleed paintings illuminate both the dire physical and transcendent spiritual journey. At night, the moon lights Harriet's care-wracked face below a deep teal, star-pricked sky. By day, she disappears: A distant safe farm appears under a wan blue sky; a wagon transporting the hidden Harriet silhouettes against a golden sunset. Unique perspective and cropping reveal Tubman's heroism. Reaching Philadelphia, she's haloed in sunlight. Embracing her role as conductor, Harriet's face, eyes on the journey ahead, fairly bursts the picture plane against a blazing blue sky. Transcendent. (foreword, author's note) (Picture book. 5-9) Copyright ©Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

(Primary) Weatherford's poetic telling of Harriet Tubman's role as a conductor on the Underground Railroad combines with Nelson's larger-than-life illustrations to portray the spiritual life of the African American visionary. The story takes readers from Tubman's early days as a slave, through her decision to escape, and into her life as a free person who detested the institution of slavery so vehemently that she returned to the South nineteen times to free some three hundred slaves, including her family members. Weatherford uses three different narrative voices to explore Tubman's relationship with God: a third-person narrator, telling of her life and trials; the voice of Harriet herself, who (in an italicized font) speaks her doubts and pleas directly to God; and God's words to Harriet-""HARRIET, I WILL MAKE A WAY FOR YOU""-set in large, translucent type. The interaction between these narrative voices makes clear that it was Tubman's strong faith that sustained her on the freedom journeys so dramatically evoked in Nelson's richly atmospheric nightscapes. Several key scenes bring Harriet in close visual proximity to the reader to emphasize both her emotional turmoil and her strength. Moses offers a visual and literary experience of Tubman's life on a par with Alan Schroeder and Jerry Pinkney's Minty. (c) Copyright 2010. The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted. All rights reserved.

Gr 2-5-Tubman's religious faith drives this handsome, poetic account of her escape to freedom and role in the Underground Railroad. The story begins with Tubman addressing God on a summer night as she is about to be sold south from the Maryland plantation where she and her husband live: "I am Your child, Lord; yet Master owns me,/drives me like a mule." In resounding bold text, God tells her He means for her to be free. The story is sketched between passages of prayerful dialogue that keep Tubman from giving up and eventually call upon her to be "the Moses of [her] people." Deep scenes of night fill many double pages as the dramatic paintings follow her tortuous journey, arrival in Philadelphia, and later trip to guide others. Shifting perspectives and subtle details, such as shadowy forest animals guarding her while she sleeps, underscore the narrative's spirituality. Whether filled with apprehension, determination, or serenity, Tubman's beautifully furrowed face is expressive and entrancing. A foreword briefly explains the practice of slavery and an appended note outlines Tubman's life. The words and pictures create a potent sense of the harsh life of slavery, the fearsome escape, and one woman's unwavering belief in God.-Margaret Bush, Simmons College, Boston (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

Weatherford's handsome picture book about Harriet Tubman focuses mostly on Tubman's religious inspiration, with echoes of spirituals ringing throughout the spare poetry about her struggle ("Lord, don't let nobody turn me 'round"). God cradles Tubman and talks with her; his words (printed in block capitals) both inspire her and tell her what to do ("SHED YOUR SHOES; WADE IN THE WATER TO TRICK THE DOGS"). Nelson's stirring, beautiful artwork makes clear the terror and exhaustion Tubman felt during her own escape and also during her brave rescue of others. There's no romanticism: the pictures are dark, dramatic, and deeply colored--whether showing the desperate young fugitive "crouched for days in a potato hole" or the tough middle-aged leader frowning at the band of runaways she's trying to help. The full-page portrait of a contemplative Tubman turning to God to help her guide her people is especially striking. --Hazel Rochman Copyright 2006 Booklist

In this gorgeous, poetic picture book, Weatherford (The Sound that Jazz Makes) depicts Harriet Tubman's initial escape from slavery and her mission to lead others to freedom as divinely inspired, and achieved by steadfast faith and prayer. The author frames the text as an ongoing dialogue between Tubman and God, inserting narration to move the action along. On the eve of her being sold and torn from her family, Tubman prays in her despair. In response, "God speaks in a whip-poor-will's song. `I set the North Star in the heavens and I mean for you to be free.' " The twinkling star encourages Tubman: "My mind is made up. Tomorrow, I flee." The book's elegant design clearly delineates these elements Harriet's words in italic, God's calming words in all caps drifting across the pages, the narrator's words in roman typeface and makes this read like a wholly engrossing dramatic play. Nelson's (He's Got the Whole World in His Hands) finely rendered oil and watercolor paintings, many set in the rural inky darkness of night, give his protagonist a vibrant, larger-than-life presence, befitting a woman who became known as the Moses of her people. His rugged backdrops and intense portraits convey all the emotion of Tubman's monumental mission. A foreword introduces the concept of slavery for children and an author's note includes a brief biography of Tubman. Ages 5-8. (Sept.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved