I went to visit my Grandma Leah in Chicago, and we went to a White Sox game. Doesn’t sound like such a big deal, right? Well, here’s the thing—Grandma played in the game!

I went to visit my Grandma Leah in Chicago, and we went to a White Sox game. Doesn’t sound like such a big deal, right? Well, here’s the thing—Grandma played in the game!

For use in schools and libraries only. When magic enables Zack's 88-year-old grandmother to become a terrific batter, she ends up playing in a Chicago White Sox baseball game.

What I wanted was a cute little kitten. Instead, I got a tough tomcat that talks. And that's not all! He says he's my Great-Grandpa Julius and he needs my help. And messy litter box or not, family is family!

Zack's new substitute teacher seems kind of odd. And she is rather hairy. And get this, her name is Mrs. Wolfowitz! But is she really a werewolf? Or just one very weird lady who happens to like the taste of homework papers? Read on to find out!

Mummies are cool, but they’re creepy, too! Zack has faced aliens, vampires, time-travelers, ghosts, and Bigfoot—now find out what happens when he meets teenage mummy Ikhnaton (Icky for short).

In You Never Call, You Never Write, Joyce Antler provides an illuminating and often amusing history of one of the best-known figures in popular culture--the Jewish Mother. Whether drawn as self-sacrificing or manipulative, in countless films, novels, radio and television programs, stand-up comedy, and psychological and historical studies, she appears as a colossal figure, intensely involved in the lives of her children. Antler traces the odyssey of this compelling personality through decades of American culture. She reminds us of a time when Jewish mothers were admired for their tenacity and nurturance, as in the early twentieth-century image of the "Yiddishe Mama," a sentimental figure popularized by entertainers such as George Jessel, Al Jolson, and Sophie Tucker, and especially by Gertrude Berg, whose amazingly successful "Molly Goldberg" ruled American radio and television for over 25 years. Antler explains the transformation of this Jewish Mother into a "brassy-voiced, smothering, and shrewish" scourge (in Irving Howe's words), detailing many variations on this negative theme, from Philip Roth's Portnoy's Complaint and Woody Allen's Oedipus Wrecks to television shows such as "The Nanny," "Seinfeld," and "Will and Grace." But she also uncovers a new counter-narrative, leading feminist scholars and stand-up comediennes to see the Jewish Mother in positive terms. Continually revised and reinvented, the Jewish Mother becomes in Antler's expert hands a unique lens with which to examine vital concerns of American Jews and the culture at large. A joy to read, You Never Call, You Never Write will delight anyone who has ever known or been nurtured by a "Jewish Mother," and it will be a special source of insight for modern parents. As Antler suggests, in many ways "we are all Jewish Mothers" today.

My room is a mess. Now, usually this is not big news. But my clothes have started moving...when I'm not inside them. And the TV is floating across the room! Guess what! I'm sharing my room with a ghost named Wanda.

When Zack and his dad come upon an alien whose spacecraft is running on empty in Central Park, it's easy enough to find more fuel. (Mayonnaise!) But retrieving the abandoned spaceship from the NYPD is quite a different story!

Zack's first trip to sleep-away camp gets a little hairy when legends of a mysterious creature lurking in the woods turn out to be more than just campfire tales. Is it the missing link? Yeti? Sasquatch? Bigfoot?