Envious of classmate and spelling-bee champ Jessica’s picture in the local paper, the irrepressible third grader introduced in Judy Moody (2000) tries for her own 15 minutes of fame. As she quickly discovers, it can be elusive. Like its predecessor, a disarming plot and likable characters are matched to an equally appealing format: small pages, generously spaced and sized type, die-cut windows in the dust jacket, and frequent ink-and-wash illustrations featuring smiles and high spots inside. In the end, Judy Moody earns her write-up inadvertently, after spiriting away a bagful of battered dolls from a hospital’s playroom, refurbishing them from her large private collection of loose doll parts—plus hospital gowns made from an old sheet and little casts of “oogey wet newspaper”—then returning them anonymously. “Phantom Doll Doctor Strikes County Hospital,” reads the headline. Only she, her affectionate nuclear family, and her likely-to-burgeon fan base know the truth. New chapter-book readers will enjoy watching Judy’s moods, and the ensuing complications, unfold. (Fiction. 8-10)
