An utterly delightful, early chapter book memoir chronicles author Jin Wang’s life in Nan Ba Zi, a village (“about eighteen houses…and a tiny store”) in Inner Mongolia, China, the year she was eight. Jin (called Haiyan by her family) loves her parents, Ma and Diē; her little brothers, Haijun and Haibing; and her grandpa, Grandfather Ocean. She loves the cozy, one-room mud hut where they live without electricity or running water. She loves to climb trees and look for wolves, even though Ma tells her not to. And she loves her school, where students are taught by kind Mr. Chen. The routines of Jin’s daily life are punctuated by special occasions described in humorous detail. There’s the infrequent appearance of the popcorn man and his popping machine; the seasonal planting of potato hunks and gathering of mushrooms; the hustle and bustle of preparing for an unanticipated family portrait; the unpleasant Chinese calligraphy lessons using smelly black ink. There are hardships, too: Amidst a harsh winter, Jin makes things worse for herself by licking a frozen door handle. When Jin is attacked by dogs, Ma uses bricks to draw out the “dog poison” (rabies). “I did not know our life was so hard,” Jin reflects. She writes with warmth and fondness, painting a vivid picture of her village, her family members, and her spirited childhood. (Ages 7-9)

Share in the joyful, adventure-filled shenanigans of a child growing up in a small mud hut in Inner Mongolia in this charming, illustrated memoir for young middle grade readers.

Growing up in Inner Mongolia, Jin Wang was rambunctious and boisterous and did not always listen to her Ma. Jin and her family were poor, but like kids everywhere, she still found a way to have fun and get into lots of mischief climbing trees, digging for mushrooms, and even looking for wolves.

Paired with delightful, kid-friendly illustrations, this early middle grade memoir invites readers to join Jin and her family in the outskirts of Inner Mongolia to remind us that though we all have different customs and traditions, we are more alike than not, and that mischief lives within all of us.