What Happens on Wednesdays Review

Farrar, Strauss & Giroux

What happens when a kid is asked to describe her favorite day of the week?

If it's my kid, he clams up and smiles shyly. He might eek out a sentence or two about going to school or to the beach at recess. Maybe, just maybe, if they're serving mac-n-cheese for lunch, he'll mention that too.

Then he's done. Time for Legos or Hot Wheels and loud engine noises.

I've often joked about the little chatterboxes who'd narrate their whole day if you let them, and Jenkins has given us just such a girl. She repeats herself, forgets what comes next, gets ahead, focuses on details relevant only to her, provides endless lists and generally charms the pants off a grown-up reader.

It helps that the nameless narrator lives in a vibrant urban neighborhood, where everything's in walking distance and nobody has to drive anywhere. There's plenty to describe for this family of early risers where Mom works from home and Dad has time for a coffee and bagel in the park before pre-school. Dang, sign my husband up for that job.

This is an ideal existence, one not shared by us suburbanites, who seem to be invited in only to gawk. I don't know how many children will identify with her, but it's useful for prompting kids' to build their own stories. What do you do first in the mornings? Where do you go after school is over? What do you like to do on a sunny day?

Castillo obliges Jenkins' helter-skelter, freeform narrative with a late-autumn Brooklyn, peacefully traffic-free, and with interior scenes in neutral tones where a bright stripe or busy pattern can suddenly pop. It keeps the eye moving around, noticing details, wondering at the stories hidden behind storefronts or with other chirpy children having busy favorite days.