Random House: Bringing You the Best in Fiction, Nonfiction, and Children's Books
Authors
Books
Features
Newletters and Alerts

Buy now from Random House

  • Alvin Ho: Allergic to Camping, Hiking, and Other Natural Disasters
  • Written by Lenore Look
    Illustrated by LeUyen Pham
  • Format: Trade Paperback | ISBN: 9780375857508
  • Our Price: $6.99
  • Quantity:
See more online stores - Alvin Ho: Allergic to Camping, Hiking, and Other Natural Disasters

Buy now from Random House

  • Alvin Ho: Allergic to Camping, Hiking, and Other Natural Disasters
  • Written by Lenore Look
    Illustrated by LeUyen Pham
  • Format: eBook | ISBN: 9780375853937
  • Our Price: $6.99
  • Quantity:
See more online stores - Alvin Ho: Allergic to Camping, Hiking, and Other Natural Disasters

Buy now from Random House

  • Alvin Ho: Allergic to Camping, Hiking, and Other Natural Disasters
  • Written by Lenore Look
    Read by Everette Plen
  • Format: Unabridged Audiobook Download | ISBN: 9780739379967
  • Our Price: $7.50
  • Quantity:
See more online stores - Alvin Ho: Allergic to Camping, Hiking, and Other Natural Disasters

Alvin Ho: Allergic to Camping, Hiking, and Other Natural Disasters

    Select a Format:
  • Book
  • eBook
  • Audiobook

Written by Lenore LookAuthor Alerts:  Random House will alert you to new works by Lenore Look
Illustrated by LeUyen PhamAuthor Alerts:  Random House will alert you to new works by LeUyen Pham



eBook

List Price: $6.99

eBook

On Sale: June 23, 2009
Pages: 176 | ISBN: 978-0-375-85393-7
Published by : Schwartz & Wade RH Childrens Books

Audio Editions

Read by Everette Plen
On Sale: June 23, 2009
ISBN: 978-0-7393-7996-7
More Info...
Listen to an excerpt
Visit RANDOM HOUSE AUDIO to learn more about audiobooks.


Alvin Ho: Allergic to Camping, Hiking, and Other Natural Disasters Cover

Bookmark,
Share & Shelve:

  • Add This - Alvin Ho: Allergic to Camping, Hiking, and Other Natural Disasters
  • Email this page - Alvin Ho: Allergic to Camping, Hiking, and Other Natural Disasters
  • Print this page - Alvin Ho: Allergic to Camping, Hiking, and Other Natural Disasters
ABOUT THE BOOK ABOUT THE BOOK
ABOUT THE AUTHOR ABOUT THE AUTHOR
PRAISE PRAISE
Synopsis|Excerpt

Synopsis

Here's the second book in the beloved and hilarious Alvin Ho chapter book series, which has been compared to Diary of a Wimpy Kid and is perfect for both beginning and reluctant readers.

Alvin, an Asian American second grader who's afraid of everything, is back, and his worst fear has come true: he has to go camping. What will he do exposed in the wilderness with bears and darkness and . . . pit toilets? Luckily, he’s got his night-vision goggles and water purifying tablets and super-duper heavy-duty flashlight to keep him safe. And he’s got his dad, too.

From Lenore Look and New York Times bestselling illustrator LeUyen Pham comes a drop-dead-funny and touching series with a truly unforgettable character.

“Shares with Diary of a Wimpy Kid the humor that stems from trying to manipulate the world.” —Newsday

“Alvin’s a winner.” —New York Post


From the Hardcover edition.

Excerpt

CHAPTER ONE
Believing in Henry


you will know some things about me if you have read a book called Alvin Ho: Allergic to Girls, School, and Other Scary Things. But you won’t know all about me, so that is why there is now this second book.

In case you missed it, my name is Alvin Ho. I was born scared and I am still scared. Things that scare me include:

Long words (especially “hippopotomonstro- sesquipedaliophobia,” which means fear of long words).

Punctuation. (Except for exclamation points! Exclamations are fantastic!!!)

The dark (which means I have nyctophobia).

The great outdoors. (What’s so great about it?) Lots of things can happen when you’re outdoors:

Hurricanes.

Tornadoes.

Mudslides.

Landslides.

The end of the world.

I am scared of many more things than that. But if I put all my scares on one list, it would mean years of therapy for me. And I already go to therapy once a month on account of it’s supposed to help me not be so scared. But my brother Calvin says when you’re born a certain way, that’s the way you’ll always be, so you might as well hug your inner scaredy-cat.

My brother Calvin, he gives good advice.

I am not so good with advice. I can never think of any, except maybe this: When in doubt, always ask, “What would Henry do?” Henry is Henry David Thoreau. He’s a dead author, which is really creepy. But he is also our school hero, which is not so creepy, and he was a lot like me—he had stuff figured out, even when he was little. He was born in Concord, Massachusetts, just like me. And—gulp—he died in Concord too.

Of course, I could never say, “What would Henry do?” at school, where I never say anything. This is on account of school is mortifying. And when I am mortified, which means totally scared to death, I can’t scream, I can’t talk, I can’t even grunt. Nothing comes out of my mouth, no matter how hard I try.

Having a lot in common with Henry can be very useful. For example, we learned in music class today that Henry played the flute. And whenever he played, a mouse would come to listen, and Henry would feed it with the extra pieces of cheese that he kept in his pocket.

“My brother has a flute,” I told the gang on the bus after school. “He rented it for lessons . . . and we have cheese in the refrigerator.”

“Let’s go,” said Pinky.

So when the bus stopped at the end of my driveway, the gang followed me to my house. Usually, it is a tricky business getting them to play with me unless it is Pinky’s idea. Pinky is the biggest boy and the leader of the gang, and no one plays with me unless Pinky does.

Except for Flea. Flea plays with me no matter what. But the problem with Flea is that she’s a girl. And girls are annoying.

Fortunately, my mom was at work and my gunggung, who comes to watch us after school, was fast asleep on the sofa. So I left the gang in the kitchen and tiptoed past the sofa . . . to fetch Calvin’s flute from the top of the piano where he had put it for safekeeping. No problem.

The only problem was Anibelly. She’s four, she’s my sister, and she was wide awake, following me everywhere and getting in my way as usual.

“That’s Calvin’s,” said Anibelly.

I stopped. I pretended I didn’t see Anibelly. But it is hard not to see her. She’s like a stoplight in the middle of my life and there’s just no avoiding her. I can’t go anywhere without going past her or taking her with me if I’m in a hurry.

“But Calvin’s practicing his karate moves at Stevie’s house,” I said. “And I need his flute for a little experiment.”

“What spearmint?” asked Anibelly.

“Well, you live in Concord, Massachusetts, don’t you?” I asked.

Anibelly nodded.

“You believe in Henry David Thoreau, don’t you?”

Anibelly nodded again.

“Well, then, if you keep quiet,” I said, “I’ll let you watch.”

So Anibelly kept quiet.

First I put Calvin’s flute together.

Then I went back into the kitchen where the gang was waiting and looked for some cheese.

Actually there was quite a lot of cheese, all chopped up and zipped inside a plastic bag. It was very yummy. And we were hungrier than a pack of starving mice. By the time we finished snacking, there were only a few crumbs left to put in my pocket. But I was sure that our teacher, Miss P, had said that Henry had pieces of cheese, not crumbs.

“I’d heard pieces too, not crumbs,” said Sam, who usually always pays better attention in class than I do. “A mouse isn’t going to come for crumbs.”

So we cobbled all our crumbs together to make a piece of cheese, which I put in my pocket. Then I picked up Calvin’s flute, put it to my lips and blew.

“Pshhhhhffffffffrrrrrrrrrrr.” It sounded like a sick worm blowing its nose. So I blew again, harder. “Pshhhhhhrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!”

“Lemme try,” said Pinky, snatching the flute and the piece of cobbled cheese from my pocket. “Pssssssssuuurrrgggggh!” He sounded worse than I did!

Then Nhia took a turn. Then Sam. Then Jules and Eli and Hobson. By the time Calvin’s flute was finally passed to Flea, it was drooling worse than our dog, Lucy, on a hot day, and the cobbled cheese that ended up in her pocket was hardly recognizable as cheese, except for the smell.


From the Hardcover edition.
Lenore Look|LeUyen Pham

About Lenore Look

Lenore Look - Alvin Ho: Allergic to Camping, Hiking, and Other Natural Disasters
I first began making picture books in kindergarten because my other career option at the time was stealing. But a life of crime requires practice and patience, neither of which I had, so I settled into industry, making what I coveted but what my parents could not afford to buy: beautiful books like the ones my teacher read to us in school.
Publishing was no problem in those days, not like it is now. By first-grade, I was my own publisher, making multiple copies of my books by hand. As for fame and fortune, I took care of that, too–I taught my brothers and the neighborhood kids how to wait in line for autographed copies, and I charged them 25 cents a book (an enviable paperback royalty today!), but also accepted candy.
By third grade, I had abandoned the literary scene. My parents had bought an old piano and signed me up for lessons and, thus, I began dreaming of becoming a world-famous concert pianist.
Then I came across a book on Maria Tallchief, and became a ballerina, just like that. I weighed only 40 pounds and could leap and pirouette all day without stopping. It was a lot easier than becoming a pianist.
Then I read a book about a surgeon, and one about a veterinarian, and another about a great tennis player . . . and I found myself wanting to become whatever I’d last read.
Eventually I grew up and became a newspaper reporter. It was the perfect job for me. I got paid to do the two things I loved most: writing and being curious. Working as a reporter taught me how to talk to people, how to find the story behind the story, and how to tell a story in a way that keeps a reader reading. I learned to listen to the way people talk. I learned to be precise and concise in my own choice of words. Best of all, the more I wrote, the more I was filled with a sense of wonder. I loved writing not only about what happens to people, but also about what happens inside of them, which is what writing for children is all about, but I didn’t yet know it.
It wasn’t until I became a mother and began reading children’s books again that I felt what the Chinese call yun fuen, a continuing of work begun in past lives. I had long forgotten my early foray into picture books, the thread I’d dropped in kindergarten, a thin rig, like the one a spider would use in rising. I had journeyed nearly 30 years down through space by then, unaware of my silken strand. Then one afternoon, with my two young children clamoring for something to do, I showed them how to fold paper into a book . . . picked up some crayons and a pen, and then . . . felt myself rising . . . returning to that place where I began, that brief age in which I had so many talents, and leapt and pirouetted into the sun, and could not stop.

About LeUyen Pham

LeUyen Pham - Alvin Ho: Allergic to Camping, Hiking, and Other Natural Disasters
LeUyen Pham has illustrated numerous award-winning books for children, including Big Sister, Little Sister; Sing-Along Song and Piggies in a Polka. She lives in San Francisco, California.
Praise

Praise

Starred Review, The Horn Book Magazine, September/October 2009:
"Readers can only hope that Alvin continues to describe in such wonderful detail his many allergic reactions."

Kirkus Reviews, May 19, 2009
"While Look certainly embellishes at times for comedic effect, she has created in Alvin a character that is as real as he is irascible, and the tender relationships among the members of the Ho family provide a sturdy backbone for all the silliness. Pham’s simple but vibrant line drawings leap off the page. Another triumph for Alvin Ho."


From the Hardcover edition.

Your E-Mail Address
send me a copy

Recipient's E-Mail Address
(multiple addresses may be separated by commas)

A personal message: