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Bigger than a Bread Box Hardcover – September 27, 2011


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Product Details

  • Age Range: 8 - 12 years
  • Grade Level: 3 - 7
  • Lexile Measure: 680L (What's this?)
  • Hardcover: 240 pages
  • Publisher: Random House Books for Young Readers (September 27, 2011)
  • Language: English
  • ISBN-10: 0375869166
  • ISBN-13: 978-0375869167
  • Product Dimensions: 5.9 x 0.9 x 8.5 inches
  • Shipping Weight: 5.6 ounces
  • Average Customer Review: 4.4 out of 5 stars  See all reviews (34 customer reviews)
  • Amazon Best Sellers Rank: #936,774 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)

Editorial Reviews

About the Author

LAUREL SNYDER is the author of many books for kids, including Penny Dreadful, Any Which Wall, and Up and Down the Scratchy Mountains. A native of Baltimore, she now resides happily in Atlanta with her husband, Chris, their two small sons, and a cat and dog who get along admirably because they are exactly the same size. Laurel has recently begun a collection of vintage bread boxes. Visit her online at www.LaurelSnyder.com.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Chapter 1

I was in the dining room part of the kitchen doing my math homework at the table when the lights suddenly blinked off. Everything else in the house stopped working too. The numbers on the microwave’s clock disappeared. The fridge stopped making the wheezy noise it usually makes.

Then my mom, over in the living room, started picking on my dad for no good reason. As far as I could tell, he was just sitting on the couch, drinking a beer and watching TV, like he usually does after dinner. “Winding down,” he calls it. Ever since he wrecked his cab, he’s been winding down a lot. But the accident wasn’t his fault, and he’ll get another job soon. He always does. He’s just taking a break for a little while.

Anyway, I couldn’t see either of them because of the lights being off, but I could hear everything they said. There weren’t doors or walls between the downstairs rooms in our row house. The flooring just changed color every ten feet or so. You knew you were out of the kitchen/dining room and into the living room when the fake-brick linoleum stopped and the pale blue carpet started. Then you were out of the living room and into the front room when the blue carpet changed to brown. That was how a lot of row houses were in Baltimore, like tunnels.

So, really, we were all in one long, dark room together when Mom snapped, “Jim! You didn’t pay the power bill again?”

Dad didn’t answer her. He does that sometimes, tunes out, though I can never tell if he’s daydreaming or just pretending not to hear her. She kept going on about how she was “sick of it all.” She said she was too tired to even talk about it anymore, but then she kept talking. She called him selfish. She said he was a child. She went on and on, and none of it made much sense to me. It was just a big list of angry. Her voice got madder and louder until at last she was yelling when she said, “If you can’t handle the bills right now, could you maybe at least handle the dishes?”

Even though it was pitch-black in the room, I squeezed my eyes shut. I laid my head on the table, on my math book.

She stopped yelling and got quiet. Everything was dark and quiet when she said, in a smaller voice, “I’m sorry, Jim,” and “I hate this,” and “I love you, but . . .”

I squeezed my eyes tighter.

Then Mom started crying.

I just sat in the dark dining area with my head on my book. Partly because I absolutely didn’t want to go in there, but also partly because it was so dark I was afraid I’d trip over a chair or something. I just sat, hunched over. I smelled the musty paper of the math book and listened to Mom cry. It was hardly the first time they’d had a fight in front of me, but things didn’t usually get so bad.

After a while, Mom stopped and kind of whispered, “You know, Jim? I could do this . . . just as easily . . . without you.”

There was a pause after that; then Dad said, really, really softly, “Oh . . . could you?”

Mom sucked in a quick breath, like it hurt her, and she said, “Yeah. Easier even.”

Dad sat there, I guess, doing nothing. That was what it sounded like. It sounded like nothing.

Mom took another breath, a slow one this time, and asked, “Did you hear what I said? Did you hear me? Aren’t you going to say anything?”

I opened my eyes. She sounded calm, too calm. Something was really wrong.

Dad, not yelling or crying--because he pretty much never yells or cries--said, “What do you want me to say, Annie?” He sounded grim. He was talking through his teeth. I heard him take a big wet sip of his beer before he said, “You think I like the way things are any better than you?”

She didn’t answer him.

I couldn’t stand it after that. It was totally dark and quiet. I’d never been anywhere so still as that room. It was like I was waiting in the back of a closet, sitting on lumpy shoes. Only there was no door to open, nothing I could do to get out. I’d never listened so carefully to something I didn’t want to hear.

Then two things happened at the same exact time.

The lights came back on.

And upstairs, in his room, my little brother, Lew, started crying.

“Mama?” he was saying. “Daddy?”

I looked over into the living room. With the lights back on, I could see everything clearly again. My parents were just frozen there, like statues. Lew kept crying.

I stood up. I made myself walk. I kept my eyes on my feet. Even so, out of the corner of my eye I could see Mom leaning against the side of the recliner, still wearing her blue scrubs from work, her arms limp and her face all wet. Dad was sitting on the couch, staring past her at the blank TV. He looked sad too, but also, weirdly, he looked a little like he wanted to smile. I guess maybe that was because now everyone knew he had paid the power bill.

I didn’t say anything to either of them, and they didn’t say anything to me. I walked as fast as I could through the living room and headed up the stairs to Lew. Poor kid. He wasn’t even three years old yet. He had no idea what was going on.

When I got upstairs, Lew was in his crib, holding the bars really tight. His face was red, but when he saw me, he stopped crying. I lifted him out. He can climb out himself, but he doesn’t usually do it. We sat on the floor, and I held him and rocked while he sucked his thumb. He smelled like dirty hair and peanut butter. I thought about singing a song but didn’t. Eventually, he fell back asleep in my lap, and I laid him on the floor, because I knew I’d wake him up putting him into his crib. My arms aren’t long enough, so I always have to drop him the last foot, deadweight, and he wakes up. Instead I just covered him with a blanket.

That was near the end of October.

More About the Author

I've been writing pretty devotedly, in one form or fashion, since I was about seven. In the fourth grade, I announced to the world that I planned to become "rich and famous writing books and plays for children!" Then I intended to adopt every stray dog and cat in the city of Baltimore and move them all into an old mansion, not far from where I lived.

Well, I'm not rich by any means, I live in a rather small brick house, and I only have one cat, but I am (blessedly) writing books for kids, and I couldn't be more amazed or delighted.

Most days I spend with my sons (who are tiny) smeared with peanut butter, finger paint, and silly joy. But late at night, I write these books... and I hope you'll read one...

And if you like that book, (or even if you don't) I hope you'll write to me, and say hello!



Customer Reviews

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A wonderful, charming and gently complex coming-of-age novel.
Dee18
This book is really heartwarming and touching it is a really good book and i recommend it to anyone who can read a book.
D. Sheanin
It was good so far but i really really liked it a lot and I hope others will think it's just as good.
Tori Burgess

Most Helpful Customer Reviews

7 of 7 people found the following review helpful By J. Grambo on November 22, 2011
Format: Hardcover
Twelve-year-old Rebecca was upset. Her mother had suddenly packed up Rebecca and her little brother and had driven all the way to Atlanta, leaving her father alone in Baltimore. Her mother said moving in with Gran was temporary, but then she enrolled Rebecca in school, so it felt more permanent.

While wandering in Gran's attic, Rebecca found an old bread box that could give her anything she asked for, as long as it fit inside the box. Rebecca discovered that she loved being the girl with the latest clothes, with plenty of snacks and things to give away to her friends. But no matter how many ways she asked, the box could never give her the one thing she really wanted -- a way to get her parents back together again.

Unfortunately, the temptation to keep asking for better and better stuff from the box got Rebecca into trouble -- serious trouble. And what was she going to do with the closets and drawers full of expensive stuff that she hadn't bought?

While the desire to have more and better free stuff is understandable, I was not pleased with how Rebecca dealt with her problems. Once she was in trouble, there were better solutions than some of the things Rebecca chose to do. Overall, the story left me uncomfortable, even though the problems were somewhat resolved.
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4 of 4 people found the following review helpful By Jessica Dennis on September 27, 2011
Format: Hardcover
I really enjoyed this book. I picked it up for my kids but decided to read it first (I love a good kids/YA book). This book is about Rebecca who is trying to reestablish herself in a new town. Her mom packs she and her brother up and moves away from their Dad. This is a theme that many kids will identify with- not only parental separation, but also being the new kid in a new school. Rebecca struggles to reinvent herself and adapt to a new place while dealing with her anger towards her mom and missing her dad. Early in the book, Rebecca finds a magical bread box that fulfills all of her wishes. This of course, makes life a little easier and gives her the tools to fit in better at school. But as time goes on, Rebecca realizes that she doesn't necessarily want to fit in with the "popular" crows that isn't all that nice, and also starts to question where the Magic Bread Box finds its treasures.

"Bigger than a bread box" has a good moral dilemma that kids will face at some point in their life, as well as focuses on how life impacts our kids. Great story, easy to read, with a fun subject.
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3 of 3 people found the following review helpful By Young Mensan BookParade on May 20, 2013
Format: Paperback
Bigger Than a Bread Box was about a girl named Rebecca. Her parents got divorced, and Rebecca was forced to come live with her mom and Gran in Atlanta. While staying there Rebecca notices a very shiny, beautiful bread box in her Gran's attic. This bread box wasn't an ordinary bread box it was magical. There was one rule; Rebecca could wish for anything but, it had to fit in the bread box. What she didn't realize is that the bread box doesn't just make wishes appear, it only takes stuff from people and gives it to her. When Rebecca realizes this she tries to return the stuff she wished for. When she tries she gets into a big mess. Yet Rebecca ends up bringing her family back together.

I do think other kids will enjoy this book because it has surprises and is funny at times. This book also describes things very well.

One of my favorite parts was when Rebecca first wished for a sea gull, and heard a loud screeeee from inside the bread box. This made me smile. I think this book is special because I never read anything like it. I also think this book was so special because it really made me feel as if I was part of the story.

Review by Young Mensan Megan M., age 11, North Texas Mensa
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3 of 3 people found the following review helpful By KDuBayGillis on October 1, 2011
Format: Hardcover
Some people say this is a book about separation and divorce. That's true, but it's bigger than that.
Some people say this is a book about a magic breadbox. That's true, but it's bigger than that, too.

It's a story of twelve-year old Rebecca as her life is turned upside down when her mom decides to take her and her baby brother away. Away from their father. Away from their home. Away from their life to figure out what she needs. And Rebecca is angry, left trying to fix the situation while dealing with a new town, new school, and new friends. Which seems impossible until she finds a special breadbox in her Gran's attic that delivers whatever Rebecca wishes for...as long as they fit inside. Diamonds, money, favorite food, the perfect gift, and clothes like the popular kids. The breadbox deliveries all seem to make Rebecca feel better, until she discovers the secret recipe of its magic. That's when her problems begin to feel bigger than a breadbox.

What makes Rebecca's story bigger than just separation and divorce is that Rebecca deals with issues and feelings that all kids, regardless of their family's situation, can relate to. Loneliness, wanting to fit in, wanting to be surrounded by the familiar. Trying to navigate the fuzzy gray areas between right and wrong. And, most of all, needing to have your voice heard by the adults in your life. Having the time to think about what you want and the chance to stand up for yourself.

For readers familiar with Laurel Snyder's PENNY DREADFUL...Rebecca and Penny are very different characters and the books are very different reads. BREADBOX packs an emotional punch from the very first scene.
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