Fred's Book Club: Okay, This Is Sad.

Welcome to another edition of our book feature, the Humpback Writers, which falls on a Wednesday and thus the hump thing. Yes, it's stupid. I take full blame. That alone should be refreshing these days.

As I warned in the title, this one is sad.

"Libby was born with a rare disorder," says the jacket copy. "Though she wasn't expected to survive six months, she lived three and a half years. When Libby died, five-year-old Jack struggled to understand. That year his mom began a diary. These are Jack's words."

As such, this may be the shortest book in my library by word count, and is definitely the book with the youngest author. It does have one of the longest titles, though: This Book Is for All Kids, But Especially My Sister Libby. Libby Died. And byline: By Jack Simon, Age 5, as Told to His Mom, Usually at Bedtime.

Annette Simon, Jack's mother, took Jack's words, his many questions to her, his messages and questions for Libby, and put them in designed spreads, colorful and thematic. It's a lovely job and hard to reproduce on my little blog. But we'll try with a couple:

In case you can't read it, the spread above says "Libby was just so sick, no doctors could help her so she had to die. So she did. She's the first one in our family to die. She's the first one to be with the angels. Mom, what if Libby was your first baby, and I was the middle kid? Would it have been me? Would I be dead now?"

Jack has a lot of good questions. "Do angels ever go to sleep? Do they stay awake every day and every night?" This boy has the soul of a philosopher, or a theologian.

The thing about this book, though, is the ring of authenticity; every word in it sounds like it came from a five-year-old boy. I think this spread is more legible in scan size:

When Jack asks, "Hey, Libby... did you get the balloons we flew up for your birthday?" Well, tear my heart out and stomp that sucker flat.

No fewer than a dozen psychologists, grief counselors, children's health workers, and others penned praise blurbs for this book on the jacket. Kenneth K. Doka, Ph.D., of the Hospice Foundation of America, wrote, "Warm and sensitive. Reminds us of both the fears and strengths of children." Charles A. Corr from the School of Humanities at Southern Illinois U wrote, "I hope many children and the adults who love them will have an opportunity to discuss a very serious subject with the aid of this delightful little book."

It was published by Andrews McMeel in 2002, and though it seems to be out of print is still recommended for use in counseling to this day. My copy came from the giveaway table at a magazine I was working for when they were clearing out the library. I think the book is something special. In a few short words and pages, it takes us through curiosity and sadness and the wonder of life.

Author Jack Simon would be in his twenties now. I wonder how he's doing. I looked around the Web but with an ordinary last name like Simon, my finding him or his family proved impossible.

Jack, if you're out there, drop us a line. We'd love to hear from you. Thanks for the book. Best to the family. Requiescat in pace, Libby.