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Zusatztext Praise for Alvin Ho: Allergic to Camping, Hiking, and Other Natural Disasters "Readers can only hope that Alvin continues to describe in such wonderful detail his many allergic reactions." -- The Horn Book , starred review "While Look certainly embellishes at times for comedic effect, she has created in Alvin a character that is as real as he is irascible...Pham’s simple but vibrant line drawings leap off the page. Another triumph for Alvin Ho. " -- Kirkus Reviews Series Praise "Look's . . . intuitive grasp of children's emotions is rivaled only by her flair for comic exaggeration." -- Publishers Weekly , starred review “Shares with Diary of a Wimpy Kid the humor that stems from trying to manipulate the world.” — Newsday Informationen zum Autor Lenore Look Klappentext Here's the second book in the beloved and hilarious Alvin Ho chapter book series, which has been compared to Diary of a Wimpy Kid and is perfect for both beginning and reluctant readers. Alvin, an Asian American second grader who's afraid of everything, is back, and his worst fear has come true: he has to go camping. What will he do exposed in the wilderness with bears and darkness and . . . pit toilets? Luckily, he's got his night-vision goggles and water purifying tablets and super-duper heavy-duty flashlight to keep him safe. And he's got his dad, too. From Lenore Look and New York Times bestselling illustrator LeUyen Pham comes a drop-dead-funny and touching series with a truly unforgettable character. "Shares with Diary of a Wimpy Kid the humor that stems from trying to manipulate the world." -Newsday "Alvin's a winner." -New York Post CHAPTER ONE Believing in Henry you will know some things about me if you have read a book called Alvin Ho: Allergic to Girls, School, and Other Scary Things. But you won’t know all about me, so that is why there is now this second book. In case you missed it, my name is Alvin Ho. I was born scared and I am still scared. Things that scare me include: Long words (especially “hippopotomonstro- sesquipedaliophobia,” which means fear of long words). Punctuation. (Except for exclamation points! Exclamations are fantastic!!!) The dark (which means I have nyctophobia). The great outdoors. (What’s so great about it?) Lots of things can happen when you’re outdoors: Hurricanes. Tornadoes. Mudslides. Landslides. The end of the world. I am scared of many more things than that. But if I put all my scares on one list, it would mean years of therapy for me. And I already go to therapy once a month on account of it’s supposed to help me not be so scared. But my brother Calvin says when you’re born a certain way, that’s the way you’ll always be, so you might as well hug your inner scaredy-cat. My brother Calvin, he gives good advice. I am not so good with advice. I can never think of any, except maybe this: When in doubt, always ask, “What would Henry do?” Henry is Henry David Thoreau. He’s a dead author, which is really creepy. But he is also our school hero, which is not so creepy, and he was a lot like me—he had stuff figured out, even when he was little. He was born in Concord, Massachusetts, just like me. And—gulp—he died in Concord too. Of course, I could never say, “What would Henry do?” at school, where I never say anything. This is on account of school is mortifying. And when I am mortified, which means totally scared to death, I can’t scream, I can’t talk, I can’t even grunt. Nothing comes out of my mouth, no matter how hard I try. Having a lot in common with Henry can be very useful. For example, we learned in music class today that Henry played the flute. And whenever he played, a mouse would come to listen, and Henry would feed it with th...
