conversations.from: human
conversations.value: a description for a book titled Dara Palmer's Major Drama about Dara, Dara's, Cambodia with the genre: Children's Books, Arts, Music & Photography
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Gr 36British fifth grader Dara Palmer is a natural-born actress, destined for Hollywood stardom. At least, that's what she and her best friend, Lacey, think, until neither of them lands the lead role in their school's musical production of The Sound of Music. Dara, who is adopted from Cambodia, believes that she may have been passed over for the role because she doesn't look like the original Maria. After seeing that the cast includes other nonwhite students in important roles and talking to the director, Dara realizes that it is her acting skills (or lack thereof) that landed her a spot on the stage crew. Amid all of this drama, a friend of Dara's, another Cambodian adoptee, invites her on a trip to her birth country. Grappling with her sense of self, both as an adopted child and a failing actress, Dara must decide which of these grievances she wishes to facetaking the expensive trip to Cambodia or signing up for acting lessons at home. The challenges Dara faces paint a well-rounded and realistic picture of the life of a foreign-born adoptee. The typography enlarges important phrases and bolds Dara's signature onomatopoeias like huuuggghhtt and kzzzcchhh. There are also plentiful doodles found on every page. Once readers adapt to the on-page asides and visuals, Dara's larger-than-life personality and true-to-life middle grade issues command center stage until the curtain falls. VERDICT A funny and fresh addition to older-elementary collections. Hand to fans of the author's first book, Dream On, Amber.Brittany Staszak, Eisenhower Public Library District, IL
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: the first three paragraphs for this book
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Dara Palmer's Major Drama
  I never thought I'd say this, but nuns and noodles can change your life. Well, maybe they don't change everyone's, but they definitely changed mine. And not just once either, which is so freaky I don't even know how to measure it with a spoon.
  No one thinks nuns are going to be life-changing. Sorry, but that's the truth. Especially not the kind of nuns who sing in trees and make clothes out of curtains like Maria in The Sound of Music, which is a musical extravaganza about not-your-usual-type-of-nun and whistling captains and singing children and double-crossing Nazi boyfriends and female deer and lonely goatherds high on a hill singing "layohlayohlay-eeh-oh." Which sounds nuts, I know, but it kind of makes sense when you see the movie. Kind of. It's still pretty nuts though, even then.
  And I don't even like noodles. But if something's going to change your life, I guess noodles are better than the Black Death, a monster earthquake, a plague of poisonous frogs, or a million other terrible things.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: five more paragraphs
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: All the way to drama group, I looked out of the car window at the posters on bus stops, billboards, and buses. None of the models or actors I saw were Cambodian. None were even Asian. None. Once I noticed it, I couldn't help but notice it again and again. Every poster I looked at made me re-notice, and the constant re-noticing made my heart hurt.
  Halfway there, I got nervous. What if I was really bad at acting and I was just kidding myself? Or worse, what if I was actually good but I'd never get anywhere because I was Cambodian? But then Felix's words echoed in my head.
  The Marcus Garvey Center was about a twenty-minute drive from our house. As soon as we went in and saw it, I forgot all about the posters and got excited. It was a super-swanky new arts center, and the drama group was in a theater. Not like our stage at school, which was in the same auditorium we used for assemblies. It had a proper stage, rows of red seats, and theater lighting.
  Walking in there felt like being in a movie because I was the new girl. What kind of new girl should I be? Shy and sweet? Or should I flick my hair and be super-confident? There are always new girls in movies, and sometimes people are nice to them and sometimes they're horrible, and I was waiting to see what I'd end up with.
  Would they all want to be my friend and I'd have to do "eeny, meeny, miny, moe" to choose who could sit with me?
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Delete the last sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: All the way to drama group, I looked out of the car window at the posters on bus stops, billboards, and buses. None of the models or actors I saw were Cambodian. None were even Asian. None. Once I noticed it, I couldn't help but notice it again and again. Every poster I looked at made me re-notice, and the constant re-noticing made my heart hurt.
  Halfway there, I got nervous. What if I was really bad at acting and I was just kidding myself? Or worse, what if I was actually good but I'd never get anywhere because I was Cambodian? But then Felix's words echoed in my head.
  The Marcus Garvey Center was about a twenty-minute drive from our house. As soon as we went in and saw it, I forgot all about the posters and got excited. It was a super-swanky new arts center, and the drama group was in a theater. Not like our stage at school, which was in the same auditorium we used for assemblies. It had a proper stage, rows of red seats, and theater lighting.
  Walking in there felt like being in a movie because I was the new girl. What kind of new girl should I be? Shy and sweet? Or should I flick my hair and be super-confident? There are always new girls in movies, and sometimes people are nice to them and sometimes they're horrible, and I was waiting to see what I'd end up with.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: the last five paragraphs
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The good news is there are thousands of successful adoptions, national and international, every year, which give children homes and families they would not otherwise have had.
  The bad news is that orphanages in Asia are filled with children, most of whom are not orphans and most of whom are girls, and that situation is ongoing.
  My name is Emma Shevah, and I was born and raised in London. My mother is Irish and my father was Thai, and I'm proud to tell you, I can actually say and write both those sentences in Thai. I can't say much more than that yet, though. I'm still learning.
  I studied English Literature and Philosophy at Nottingham University and when I graduated, I worked for a while and then went traveling for years and years. I did some weird jobs (like fire juggling, jewelry selling, and ear piercing) and lived for a while in Australia, Japan, India (where our first child was born in the Himalayas) and Jerusalem (I know how to say and write all this in Hebrew too) before moving back to the UK with my family and doing a Master's in Creative and Professional Writing at Brunel. I like nothing better than flying away on an adventure, although having four children, a depressed tortoise, and a constantly escaping dog makes far-flung travel a little more difficult than I would like it to be.
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