Try to ignore the hideous cover and the silly, pointless title. The hallmark of author
Sue Stauffacher's books is characters so lovingly drawn, in all their quirkiness and (in Franklin's case, at least) neurosis, that the reader falls in love with them, too. In real life, someone like Franklin might be irritating and weird, but as the author allows us inside his head, his quirks and obsessions become endearing, and readers can easily see past them into his large heart.
In fact, heart -- as the title indicates -- is what this book is about: Franklin's heart, enlarging as he learns to see beyond his own worries; the hearts of the adults, who see what is happening to Sarah and are powerless to do much about it; and Sarah's heart, held so tightly protected, that opens like a flower when she skates. It's also about the author's heart, which she shares so generously; and, most especially, about the reader's heart, which will be touched and expanded by this delightful, funny, poignant -- but never sentimental -- book.