This year, I'm proud to be a part of the 2011 Advent Tour, an annual event where book bloggers share a little something about their holiday celebrations with the rest of us. Some people are talking about food, some are talking about music, some are talking about books ... it's a feast of random holiday goodness. Dig in!

I first saw the beloved ballet when I was a kid. I'm not sure how old I was (8 maybe?), but I remember sitting in the theater feeling incredibly grown up in my dress clothes. The performance unfolding on stage mesmerized me. Everything - from the music to the costumes to the graceful dancing - kept me captivated. To commemorate the occasion, my mother bought me my first nutcracker. He's a little beat up now, but every time I look at that wooden soldier, I'm taken back to the moment I first experienced The Nutcracker. Almost every year since that time, my mother has given me a nutcracker for my birthday or Christmas. I've got soldiers and snowmen and Santas and bakers and elves and Josephs and Marys and all of them make me smile because of the memories that come rushing in whenever I look at them.

So, what do you think? Can you come up with one reason why I should hate my Christmas birthday? Because I can't. Not a single one. It's a day filled with tradition, memories and happiness. And Olive Garden (thanks to my husband). And Reese's Peanut Butter Cups (my kids' contribution). It's a day stuffed full of my favorite things, all because of my favorite people. I ask you again, what's not to love?

(Image from Barnes & Noble)

Marlee Nesbitt never says much. It's not that she doesn't have an opinion, it's just that she can't seem to push the words out of her mouth without tying them into a hopeless knot. So the 12-year-old stays quiet. Most people let her be and Marlee's (pretty much) fine with that. Then, Elizabeth Fullerton swishes into West Side Junior High. The new girl is confident, fearless and never afraid to express herself. She's everything Marlee's not and yet, by some crazy miracle, Liz wants to be Marlee's friend. Turns out, they can teach each other a thing or two - Marlee tutors Liz on holding her tongue while Liz helps draw Marlee out of her shell. It doesn't take them long to become bosom buddies.

When Liz disappears, Marlee gets a shock: the rumor mill says Liz was kicked out of school because she's a "colored" girl trying to "pass" as white. Which simply can't be true - Liz is as white as Marlee. It's only when Marlee ventures into the colored part of town that she confirms what everyone else is saying: Liz really does come from a black family. Even though she looks white, she's not. Meaning Liz can't attend a white school. Meaning Liz and Marlee can no longer hang out together. Meaning Marlee's about to lose the best friend she's ever had.

The 1958-59 school year is a tense one in Little Rock, Arkansas. All high schools in the city - white and colored - are closed to prevent integration. Despite Brown v. the Board of Education. Despite the courageous actions of the Little Rock Nine. Despite the well-intentioned protests of WEC and STOP campaigns. The result is a city rife with anger, emotion and fear, a city where supporting educational equality can be not just dangerous, but deadly.

Marlee knows all this, she just can't understand it. Why should she be kept away from a girl as nice and fun as Liz, just because of the color of her family's skin? It's not fair. And Marlee refuses to accept that "that's just the way it is." Now, the girl who never says a thing is going to take a stand. If only she can find the words. If only she can find the guts. If only she can find the voice that's been eluding her her whole life. If only.

While most books about school integration focus on the tumultuous year of 1957, the year nine brave African-American students integrated Little Rock Central High School, Kristin Levine takes a unique approach. Her novel, The Lions of Little Rock (available January 5, 2012), unfolds in 1958-59, a time known as "the lost year." While I've heard all about the Little Rock Nine, I think I've always assumed that they marched in, integrated the schools, and that was that. Well, as Levine proves in her vivid, well-researched story, that was not it at all. While the issue of school integration was batted about by voters, protestors and politicians, teenage students missed an entire year of instruction. Families were torn apart over the polarizing issue, property was damaged, people were terrorized and Little Rock became known as a hotbed of racism. Through the eyes of Marlee Nesbitt, we see it all, experience it all. Most of all, we feel it all - the injustice, the irony, the hypocrisy - through the heart of a young girl who just wants a friend. Marlee's earnestness makes her story warmhearted, meaningful and, most of all, memorable. I loved it.

(Readalikes: Jericho Walls by Kristi Collier, Flygirl by Sherri L. Smith and With the Might of Angels by Andrea Davis Pinkney)

Grade: B+

If this were a movie, it would be rated: PG for violence, mild language, and racial slurs

To the FTC, with love: I received an ARC of The Lions of Little Rock from the generous folks at Putnam (a division of Penguin). Thank you!

If you're new to BBB, you might be wondering what a "Mormon Mention" is. Heck, you may be wondering what a Mormon is. Here's a hint: My name is Susan. I'm a book blogger. And I'm a Mormon. Since I'm a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (often referred to as The Mormon Church), I'm naturally concerned about how my religion is portrayed in the media. This blog deals with books, so every time I find a reference to Mormonism (written by a non-Mormon) in my reading, I highlight it here, along with my reaction to the statement(s). This gives me a chance to explain confusing doctrine, debunk misconceptions and laugh at the peculiarities of Mormon culture (it's true, sometimes we can be a funny bunch).

The story of the crickets goes a little something like this: After Mormon pioneers emigrated to the Salt Lake Valley in the summer of 1847, they were fortunate to experience a mild winter. Still, realizing how brutal the cold season in that area could be, they prepared for the upcoming winter by planting 900 acres of crops. In late May, swarms of large, black crickets descended, eating everything in sight. Because of the sheer number of insects, witnesses compared the incident to a Biblical plague. Desperate for help, the faithful pioneers prayed for heavenly aid. On June 9, 1848, in what many agreed was a miracle, legions of California gulls swept down on the valley. The birds devoured the crickets, vomited them up, then ate more. Because of the timely arrival of the gulls, enough crops were saved to ensure the survival of thousands of pioneers.

(Book image from Barnes & Noble; gull painting by beloved LDS artist Minerva Teichert)

As with any historical event, differing accounts of the incident exist. Even if it has been exaggerated over the years, I don't care. I love the story of the seagulls devouring the crickets because, to me, it represents the inexhaustible faith, hard work and commitment of those early pioneers. Plus, I detest crickets.