November 10, 2014
Could a Heffley family vacation ever be anything but a series of escalating tribulations that would test Job's resolve? In this ninth Diary of a Wimpy Kid outing, Kinney detours from the more episodic nature of the earlier books to trace the family's doomed-from-the-start road trip, spurred by Greg's mother's subscription to Family Frolic ("There must be something wrong with our family," Greg muses, "because we can never measure up to the ones in the magazine"). Kinney maintains his knack for getting the details of family life just right (naturally, the only available lounge chair at a wildly overcrowded waterpark is the one with several broken straps). But between the inadvertent acquisition of a pet pig, an attack by a flock of seagulls, Greg getting medical attention at the vet, and baby brother Manny managing to knock the parked family car into drive, there's more out-and-out absurdity in this installment than in previous books. Readers won't care, though, and their own family vacations will look downright blissful by comparison. Ages 8–12. Agent: Sylvie Rabineau, RWSG Literary Agency.

November 9, 2015
"Mom says the problem with society these days is everybody's got their nose in a screen, and nobody takes the time to get to know the people who live around them," laments Greg Heffley, who reluctantly kicks it old school in this 10th installment of the über-popular Diary of a Wimpy Kid series. When Mrs. Heffley gets the town to unplug for 48 hours, Greg tries (but naturally fails) to cash in on neighborhood foot traffic with a lemonade stand ("One guy had a problem with the fact that we were using the same glass for every customer"). Grandpa, who has moved in with the Heffleys to save money, is also full of "back in the day" stories; Greg and Rowley finally try playing kick-the-can, but quit of boredom after 30 seconds. A weeklong trip to "Hardscrabble Farm," where Greg and his classmates sleep in primitive cabins and do chores, is the final affront, though it reveals that Greg may come by his artful dodging honestly. Kinney's fans will find the same winning formula: at least one joke every two pages. Expect readers to line up for Greg's latest. Ages 8–12. Agent: Sylvie Rabineau, RWSG Literary Agency.

Starred review from March 5, 2007
Kinney's popular Web comic, which began in 2004, makes its way to print as a laugh-out-loud "novel in cartoons," adapted from the series. Middle school student Greg Heffley takes readers through an academic year's worth of drama. Greg's mother forces him to keep a diary ("I know what it says on the cover, but when Mom went out to buy this thing I specifically
told her to get one that didn't say 'diary' on it"), and in it he loosely recounts each day's events, interspersed with his comic illustrations. Kinney has a gift for believable preteen dialogue and narration (e.g., "Don't expect me to be all 'Dear Diary' this and 'Dear Diary' that"), and the illustrations serve as a hilarious counterpoint to Greg's often deadpan voice. The hero's utter obliviousness to his friends and family becomes a running joke. For instance, on Halloween, Greg and his best friend, Rowley, take refuge from some high school boys at Greg's grandmother's house; they taunt the bullies, who then T.P. her house. Greg's journal entry reads, "I do feel a little bad, because it looked like it was gonna take a long time to clean up. But on the bright side, Gramma is retired, so she probably didn't have anything planned for today anyway." Kinney ably skewers familiar aspects of junior high life, from dealing with the mysteries of what makes someone popular to the trauma of a "wrestling unit" in gym class. His print debut should keep readers in stitches, eagerly anticipating Greg's further adventures. Ages 8-13.

Starred review from November 26, 2007
Kinney’s junior-high diarist returns to chronicle another year’s worth of comic moments in this riotous sequel. Once again, school-related drama constitutes a good portion of Greg’s subject matter, from an ongoing correspondence with a pen pal (“I’m pretty sure 'aquaintance’ doesn’t have a 'c’ in it. You really need to work on your English,” Greg replies to the French student’s polite introduction) to mastering book reports by writing “exactly what the teacher wants to hear” (“There were a bunch of hard words in this book, but I looked them up in the dictionary so now I know what they mean”). As in the previous book, cartoons form part of the narrative, corroborating (or disproving) Greg’s statements. He claims that kids with last names at the start of the alphabet are smartest, and a side-by-side comparison of prim über-nerd Alex Aruda and gap-toothed Christopher Ziegel drives the point home. Additionally, Kinney fleshes out the often testy relationships between Greg and his slacker older sibling, Rodrick, and his little brother, Manny (when Greg gets mad at Manny for shoving a cookie in his video game system, the toddler protests, “I’m ownwy thwee!” and offers a ball of tinfoil with toothpicks shoved through to apologize). The hilarious interplay between text and cartoons and the keen familial observations that set Diary of a Wimpy Kid
apart are just as evident in this outing, and are just as likely to keep readers in stitches. Ages 8-up.

Larry Mack Middle School faces a budget crisis in this 18th Diary of a Wimpy Kid outing. Like a stand-up comedian, the hapless (and apparently ageless) Greg Heffley presents a portrait of his thoroughly dysfunctional school through an extended barrage of setups and punchlines. In the wake of budget cuts to cover a new town baseball stadium, hallways have become plastered with ads from local businesses. After a round of cuts, only three of 10 janitors and one social studies teacher are left. At least the school has a librarian--though maybe not for long, considering she's forced to draw pants on Commando Crocodile, a reptilian graphic novel hero who's the subject of a parental complaint. Despite the best efforts of the principal, who comes out of retirement to replace the one who got fired after some historically low standardized test scores, the school does get shut down, at least temporarily. The plot, though, really takes a back seat to Kinney's relentless fun-poking. Readers may get more of a kick out of comparing their own scholastic environments to one where students have to gnaw points on their pencils because the sharpener is broken, fudge-covered tofu hot dogs are a hit lunchroom option, and the roaches are so big you can hear their footsteps. Collectively a bit much, but taken in small doses, this is a savage rib-tickler. (Graphic/fiction hybrid. 8-12)

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