A wild and whimsical adventure story, perfect for fans of Escape from Mr. Lemoncello’s Library Brian can think of a few places he'd rather spend his summer than with his aunt and uncle in Boring, Illinois. Jail, for example. Or an earplug factory. Anything would be better than doing summer school on a computer while his scientist dad is stationed at the South Pole.   Boring lives up to its name until Brian and his cousin Nora have a fight, get lost, and discover a huge, wooden house in the forest. With balconies, turrets, and windows seemingly stuck on at random, it looks ready to fall over in the next stiff breeze. To the madcap, eccentric family that lives inside, it’s not just a home—it’s a castle.    Suddenly, summer gets a lot more exciting. With their new friends, Brian and Nora tangle with giant wasps, sharp-tusked wild boars, and a crazed bureaucrat intent on bringing the dangerously dilapidated old house down with a wrecking ball.   This funny, fantastical story will resonate with any reader who’s ever wished a little adventure would find them. "For boys and girls alike, this story sings.”—Blue Balliett, award-winning author of  Chasing Vermeer   "Fast-paced, anarchic fun for reluctant and avid readers alike."— Kirkus Reviews  “This quirky novel is reminiscent of a Wes Anderson movie for the tweenage set. . . . For those who enjoy a bit of absurdist humor with their realism.”— School Library Journal  “A zippy, adventurous romp in the woods complete with fierce animals and buried treasure.” —Bulletin of the Center for Children's Books "What makes this book special is the way Graff evokes the excitement of new vistas . . . . a compelling reminder that it's a great big world out there, just waiting for the next generation of dreamers and explorers."— Chicago Tribune "A whimsical adventure with a large dose of humor? Yes, please! This story spoke to my inner child, who suffered too many boring summer vacations and longed to discover something magical and exciting in my own backyard."—Jennifer Chambliss Bertman, New York Times bestselling author of  Book Scavenger  and  The Unbreakable Code  "For boys and girls alike, this story sings.”—Blue Balliett, award-winning author of Chasing Vermeer “A towering tale filled with astonishing action, amazing characters, and two very daring adventurers.”—David Lubar, author of the Monsterrific Tales series, the Weenies series, and Sleeping Freshmen Never Lie Keir Graff's middle-grade debut, The Other Felix , was named "Best of the Best" by the Chicago Public Library. School Library Journal wrote: “The story has a beautifully crafted innocence reminiscent of The Little Prince . . . The ending is exquisite.” By day, he is the executive editor of Booklist  in Chicago. CHAPTER ONE THE WORST SUMMER EVER It was supposed to be the perfect summer. I was going to camp out, build forts, have adventures, and score the championship‑winning goal in the New England All‑Star Under‑12 Soccer Tournament. When I wasn’t doing those things, I was going to stay up late with my friends, eat as much junk food as I wanted, and pretty much do whatever I felt like until sixth grade started in September. It was going to be epic: the all‑time, best summer ever . Instead, I ended up in Boring, Illinois. No, I’m not kidding. There’s a town called Boring. And it is. How did this happen? I asked myself that question on the way to the airport in Boston, on the plane, and on the drive to Uncle Gary’s house—which was actually just outside Boring, so I guess technically it was almost Boring—and was still asking myself that question early on the afternoon I arrived while Uncle Gary showed me how to use the educational software he had developed. You guessed it: I was having summer school on a computer. Uncle Gary’s program was called Summer’s Cool, and if you think that’s funny, don’t laugh. You might be next. “Now click here to start, Brian,” said Uncle Gary, leaning over me and breathing stinky coffee breath into my airspace. The screen in front of me showed subjects like language arts, math, science, social science, and art listed on a chalk‑ board in handwriting that was supposed to look like a little kid’s. Why do grown‑ups think all kids make their Rs backward? And why would a kid be writing the lesson plan? That’s the teacher’s job, if you ask me. Uncle Gary was pointing at language arts, so I clicked. A boy and girl scooted onto the screen. They looked like they were drawn by little kids, too—I’m not very good at drawing, but I could have done a better job. I was starting to feel like I was in kindergarten. “I’m Darren!” said the boy, in an annoying little‑kid voice. “And I’m Dara!” said the girl, in the same voice, only higher pitched. “You picked language arts!” they said together, sounding twice as annoying. “Ready . . . get set . . . learn!” The chalkboard disappeared, and a story opened like the pages of a book. “After you read th