The beloved author of Because of Winn-Dixie has outdone herself with a hilarious and achingly real love story about a girl, a ghost, a grandmother, and growing up.
It’s the summer before fifth grade, and for Ferris Wilkey, it is a summer of sheer pandemonium: Her little sister, Pinky, has vowed to become an outlaw. Uncle Ted has left Aunt Shirley and, to Ferris’s mother’s chagrin, is holed up in the Wilkey basement to paint a history of the world. And Charisse, Ferris’s grandmother, has started seeing a ghost at the threshold of her room, which seems like an alarming omen given that she is also feeling unwell. But the ghost is not there to usher Charisse to the Great Beyond. Rather, she has other plans—wild, impractical, illuminating plans. How can Ferris satisfy a specter with Pinky terrorizing the town, Uncle Ted sending Ferris to spy on her aunt, and her father battling an invasion of raccoons?
As Charisse likes to say, “Every good story is a love story,” and Kate DiCamillo has written one for the ages: emotionally resonant and healing, showing the two-time Newbery Medalist at her most playful, universal, and profound.
Kate DiCamillo, the newly named National Ambassador for Young People’s Literature for 2014–2015, says about stories, “When we read together, we connect. Together, we see the world. Together, we see one another.” Born in Philadelphia, the author lives in Minneapolis, where she faithfully writes two pages a day, five days a week.
Kate DiCamillo's own journey is something of a dream come true. After moving to Minnesota from Florida in her twenties, homesickness and a bitter winter helped inspire Because of Winn-Dixie - her first published novel, which, remarkably, became a runaway bestseller and snapped up a Newbery Honor. "After the Newbery committee called me, I spent the whole day walking into walls," she says. "I was stunned. And very, very happy."
Her second novel, The Tiger Rising, went on to become a National Book Award Finalist. Since then, the master storyteller has written for a wide range of ages, including two comical early-chapter-book series - Mercy Watson, which stars a "porcine wonder" with an obsession for buttered toast, and Bink & Gollie, which celebrates the tall and short of a marvelous friendship - as well as a luminous holiday picture book, Great Joy.
Her latest novel, Flora & Ulysses: The Illuminated Adventures, won the 2014 Newbery Medal. It was released in fall 2013 to great acclaim, including five starred reviews, and was an instant New York Times bestseller. Flora & Ulysses is a laugh-out-loud story filled with eccentric, endearing characters and featuring an exciting new format - a novel interspersed with comic-style graphic sequences and full-page illustrations, all rendered in black and white by up-and-coming artist K. G. Campbell. It was a 2013 Parents' Choice Gold Award Winner and was chosen by Amazon, Publishers Weekly, Kirkus Reviews, and Common Sense Media as a Best Book of the Year.
I think I have issues with the way other people talk about Kate DiCamillo. You know when you’re into a band, and you feel like you know it particularly well, but then one day you read a review of it on some website and the interpretation someone else has of that band strikes you as so very very wrong? That’s pretty much my situation here. The fawning praises DiCamillo receives are nice, but they make her work sound oddly sentimental. Sentimental. A word which, in and of itself, should not be a bad thing, but all I can think of when I say it is Precious Moments figurines. And DiCamillo is no figurine. She’s not a stereotypically sweet little author writing variations on Love You Forever, or any of that slop. There’s a thread of darkness that runs like a vein throughout her work and has the effect of making most of her middle grade novels particularly interesting. It’s the kind of darkness she’s taken years to hone and perfect. Certainly it skewed a bit too far afield in some of her earliest books (unpopular opinion: I believe that DiCamillo had to work Despereaux and Tulane out of her system before she could get to where she is today). Now there’s a level of confidence to her writing and Ferris, her latest title, takes that experience and knowledge and weaves it into what has to be her most personal book to date. I have issues with the way other people talk about DiCamillo. I do not have issues with this book.
Things have gotten complicated in Ferris’s home. Her six-year-old sister Pinky has vowed to become an outlaw. Her beloved grandmother Charisse is feeling poorly and, if that were not enough, is also seeing ghosts. Her uncle has left his wife and is in Ferris’s basement, hoping to create a painted masterpiece. And is that a raccoon in the attic? Is it even there? Charisse says, “Every good story is a love story.” This may be true, but for Ferris it’s also a story about perms, roofs that smell like hot tar, chandeliers lit with discombobulated candles, a wide variety of women and how they see the world, and more.
I am already doing everything wrong with this review. Under normal circumstances, when I determine that I want to review a book, I eschew any and all reviews of it. I read it cold, only knowing about it in the vaguest of terms. Then I sit down, write my review while everything’s nice and fresh in my cranium, and that’s that. But that didn’t happen this time. This time, I was 50% through the book when I saw Kate DiCamillo speak about this book at the annual Anderson’s Breakfast celebration in Woodridge, Illinois. She gave the big closing speech and the topic was, unsurprisingly, this book (which, to be fair, I should have seen coming) along with some very personal information about her father. If you read the New Yorker profile of DiCamillo back in September of 2023, then you know that her relationship with the man was fraught throughout most of her life. The article touched on that fact here and there. In contrast, in her speech, DiCamillo was hardly so dainty, and dove right in, telling a large room full of hundreds of people large swaths of her life. The speech itself was dotted with references to Ferris too. Or maybe it’s just that Ferris is loaded down with significant objects, moments, music, and people from DiCamillo’s own life. Much of great literature happens because of real world antecedents. The question is, where does the author draw the line?
Which brings us to the darkness. That thread of darkness I mentioned earlier? It manifests itself in some ways in this book in the form of Pinky. Pinky would be Ferris’s six-year-old little sister. Relatively recently, the girl has developed a lifelong ambition to become a notorious criminal, and is prone to using terms like, “Stand aside, fools”. She’s the kind of kid willing to not only steal a pair of pliers but to then use them to pull out her own two front teeth. We’ve all met a Pinky somewhere in our lives. Many of us are related to one. After a failed bank robbery, Pinky switches focus and becomes obsessed with Houdini and escape rather than getting her face on a wanted poster. What’s so interesting about the book is that DiCamillo hints that there’s something going on with Pinky, but Ferris, wrapped up in her own problems, never really takes the time (or wants to take the time) to dissect what makes Pinky tick. By the end the girls have established a new closeness, but I still sense a bit of a distance there. Pinky is also, I would add, a saving grace of the book. Pinkys are, by necessity, necessary to good literature. They cut through the treacle.
It’s always interesting to watch how much humor DiCamillo chooses to add to one book or another. On the high end you get something like Bink and Gollie and on the low end there are books like Tiger Rising. Ferris tilts more in a Bink and Gollie-like direction without falling into out-and-out hilarity. The jokes here come in a steady stream, just above a drip, nowhere near a torrent. Some of these are aimed squarely at adults and wise-beyond-their-years-children. One example might be when Ferris asks her grandmother what she’s afraid of and the woman replies, “Indignities.” When Ferris says she doesn’t understand, she’s met with, “Isn’t that wonderful?... I’m so pleased that you don’t understand.” Some of the humor comes in the description of things. Lines like the one involving a doctor with a stethoscope to her grandmother’s chest. “He looked like someone trying to crack a safe, working to get the combination to Charisse.” But for me, some of the best funny moments in this book involve six-year-old Pinky. Ferris is trying to have a moment with her sister near the end of her book, and Pinky is having none of it. When she repeats to her that she loves her, Pinky (who is lisping a bit from those two missing front teeth) replies, “I heard you the firth time.”
I started writing this book review on a Monday, but hadn’t finished it by Thursday. It took me an entire second week get it done. In the interim, a review of this book was posted online in the New York Times. Reading the headline I see that it says that this book is “a balm to the soul”. Do you begin to understand why I twitch a little when people talk about Kate like this? I’m not saying that there’s anything wrong with a “balm to the soul” in theory, but when every review of her sounds like this, it squelches what makes her so doggone interesting. And she IS interesting. Her books are interesting. They’re full of blood-covered girls sleeping alongside goats and self-tooth extraction and paintings of angels with deep blue wings. They have music, like the song “Mysterious Barricades” (which you really should look up and listen to if you get a chance). Because this book is so very personal to DiCamillo I do not think it will be remembered as one of her greatest books. Just a merely great one. And remember, if this were written by anyone else, we’d hardly write it off as merely great. An addition to a child’s bookshelf that may say more about the child as reader, and DiCamillo as a person, than anything else.
When I saw this book on the “new releases” table at the bookstore, my 8 year old self — inside my 25 year old body — jumped for joy.
Now, that 8 year old self is smiling ear to ear as my 25 year old eyes are weeping, because — as Kate DiCamillo says — “Every story is a love story.” And this one is beautiful, deep, and brilliant.
This story pretends to be small and unassuming, but Kate DiCamillo can't fool me, because it is also universal and bittersweet and genuinely funny, all packed into a few meaningful, carefully chosen words. It's about unlikely ghosts and even more unlikely raccoon infestations. It's about would-be outlaw sisters and sparrows in feasting halls. It's about lighting chandeliers, and holding hands, and sitting with someone as they cry and eat their pie.
This book is about a lot of things that all turn out to be one thing, in the end, depending on how you view it. If you're wondering, that thing would be love.
After all, every good story is a love story.
"Come sit next to me," Ferris said to Billy. And she thought how it was the same thing she had been saying to him one way or another since the day she first met him.
Kate DiCamillo is one of those authors that has such a broad range that it can be difficult to anticipate what readers will get out of her books. This one took some time to grow on me, but it worked. CW: death of a loved one
I've been putting off reading Ferris since last year. I'm not sure why, but I made the decision to read it this year and it didn't disappoint. Though slow in the beginning, I found myself enthralled with all the characters. Simple in it's storytelling, the novel captures the experience of a both a family and small town and the meaning of love. Funny and light in some moments, and dark in others, Ferris proves itself to be a novel that rivals some of the classics I grew up with as a child. This was ultimately a pleasant surprise.
Maybe the problem is the earliest copy I could get my hands on was an audio version. But, I truly think that even if I was reading the physical book, I just wouldn't have fallen in love with this one. And that bums me out.
So many of her books have a quality to them that makes them feel as if they were written DECADES ago. I'm not saying that's a bad thing--it's just an observation.
Honestly? I couldn't stand Pinky and furthermore, I just didn't connect with Ferris. I heart DiCamillo SO. VERY. MUCH. But this wasn't a Bridget Book. And that's OK.
One thing you know when reading a Kate DiCamillo book is that she loves her character and her readers alike. After all, every story is a love story. Even a story with a six-year old bank robber.
2025: I reread this to write questions for next year’s Battle of the Book. DiCamillo put so many delightful details on every page, it was hard not to write enough questions for several hundred battles.
This book felt like it was written for teachers and award committees, but would not appeal to most children. The use of “Milk vocabulary words” throughout the book is heavy handed (every couple of pages) and is distracting from the story. Even after finishing the book I couldn’t tell you the main plot of the story. It felt like a “day in the life” of a family but even the somewhat interesting events fell flat. I have really enjoyed some of DiCamillo’s other books, but this was a miss for me.
What a charming story intended for 8 to 12 year olds. One of the characters likes to say, “Every good story is a love story.” This is a love story……many varieties of love…… parental, sibling, friends, spouses, unrequited, a dog’s love for his humans, love from the great beyond, and even just a love of words! Very easy to recommend this lovely story.
If you aren’t reading every book Kate DiCamillo writes, you should be. If you don’t have someone small or medium to read them to, read them to yourself. Her words are joy; her stories are gifts.
Ferris has had a special connection with her grandma since Charisse caught her under the Ferris wheel when she was born. They read and play cards. They admire the family dog and make plans to soothe a troubled ghost.
Charisse tells Ferris she’s not afraid of ghosts and Ferris wonders what she is afraid of.
“Indignities,” said Charisse. “I don’t understand,” said Ferris. “Isn’t that wonderful?” said Charisse. “I’m so pleased that you don’t understand.”
Charisse isn’t well and Ferris can’t help worrying about her. Her mother explains congestive heart failure and the medication Charisse will start taking.
“They were sitting at the kitchen table. The magnolia tree was standing outside the window, looking in at them, listening.”
I loved Pinky and her criminal aspirations, Mrs. Mielk and her definitions, Billy Jackson and his song. I loved Ferris’s father and his encyclopedias. He shared his morning coffee, thoroughly doctored with cream and sugar, with his oldest daughter.
“Ferris took a sip of coffee. It was rich, mysterious. It tasted like being an adult.”
Boomer flops and nuzzles and sighs and gives chase in just the right proportions.
“The one time Boomer had actually managed to catch something (a baby squirrel), he had dropped it immediately and crept into the house with his tail between his legs – devastated by shame and regret. His was a gentle soul.”
The plan to soothe the ghost is not complicated but also not without risk. Charisse urges Ferris not to be deterred.
“What I mean by that is: don’t let your mother talk you out of it. She errs on the side of sensibleness, which is not always the side to err on.”
I couldn’t stop smiling at the memory of Francine Poulet when Ferris’s father calls in pest control to deal with raccoons in the attic. Boomer accepts ear scratches from the technician then walks out the house after him in undying devotion.
Ferris is wounded, but Charisse forgives Boomer for loving “mightily and widely. It’s what we’re here for after all.”
Ferris closes the book with a welcome that’s an echo of those words. I could not be more satisfied.
I feel like Kate DiCamillo’s writing is absolutely beautiful!! She will forever be a writer I will love reading!! The characters in this book were incredible! They had me laughing to having tears in my eyes in a heartbeat. Pinky was definitely one of my favorites! But I would hate to be her babysitter. Ferris was so relatable. Kate’s characters feel so real! And the writing just flows so perfectly!! Plus this book is easy to finish in a couple sittings!! 4.25 stars!
Ferris and her sister, Pinky, live with their parents and Grandmother Charisse. Uncle Ted has moved into the basement and Aunt Shirley has not. Charisse has seen a ghost and she is convinced the ghost wants her to accomplish a difficult task. Pinky is on a rampage and her parents can't figure out what to do with her.
Excellent vocabulary builder, typical quirky DiCamillo story. Probably best as a read a loud for grades 2-4 so there can be lots of vocab support, or should be heavily booktalked by teachers and librarians to 4th and 5th graders given the high level vocab and potential for it to not be chosen by kids independently.
audio. We enjoyed listening to this book on our way home from spring break. We all got a kick out of Pinky. I thought it was clever how the author introduced new vocabulary into this story. Sweet story.
So many seemingly disjointed threads and wants and breaking hearts running through one story, and yet they all find a place at the table in the end. I kinda love DiCamillo for always pulling that off.
Also? Pinky needs her own series. This is necessary for my well being. Sign the petition below to get our favorite underage outlaw more page time:
Signature: ___________________
"You were fascinated. From the beginning, you were fascinated, and that is a very good thing to be in this world."
"Mrs. Mielk is bereft, right?" said Billy Ferris nodded. "And remember how you said that the world 'bereft' was like a raft that had floated out to sea?" Ferris nodded again. "We got to pull that raft that Mrs. Mielk is on," said Billy Jackson.
"I love you." Ferris said again. "I heard you the firth time." said Pinky.
Kate DiCamillo has done it again. I still haven't read all her works, but I know I will get to them at some point. Her books are for everyone, children and adults alike. In Ferris, she tackles the topics of grief, longing, love, and family (with all the quirks that provide comic relief).
One scene including a lovely dinner party of miss-fits hearkens back to Because of Winn Dixie, not only in the beauty of it but also in the way it ends in near disaster. I also wasn't anticipating a ghost to make an appearance, but it was a nice surprise.
This was an absolute joy of a book! It’s one of those books that brings so much happiness into the world and it filled me up to the brim. Kate DiCamillo’s writing is superb and the characters are all unforgettable.
But what’s the point of love if people die? Ferris said, still staring down at Boomer. That’s what music is for, said Billy Jackson, which wasn’t really an answer, but still, it seemed like one.
And then she read aloud to her from the Bible: For your dust and to dust you will return. And Whitman: I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love. And Charisse clapped your hands and said dust and dirt, darling! There’s a theme!
For dessert, Pop brought her (Mrs Milk, the teacher with the vocab) a piece of peach pie Alamode. This here is on the house in honor of all you have given to my son and his friend Ferris Wilke. Because I had told pop about how you and me felt about those Milk words, that it was terrible to memorize them, but good to have them and that in the end, we felt grateful to her. I told that to pop.
He said, I don’t understand any of it, I truly don’t. The world is a mystery to me. But yet, here we are and our hearts keep on beating. They keep wanting things, don’t they? Which wasn’t really a blessing, but still, it managed to seem like one to Ferris because it gave away to talk about Charisse and the ghost.
Billy Jackson told Ferris once that everything in the whole world made music, the trees made music and the stones made music and so did the flowers and the grass and the grains of sand. The whole world is singing all the time and we don’t even know it.
Mrs. Milk was bereft. Bereft was a milk vocabulary word. Something about the circular logic of this, Mrs. Miller having provided the right word for better understanding how she, Mrs. Milk, felt made Ferris slightly dizzy. It deepened the power of words, the power that Mrs. Milk had so often talked about.
Magic, if you ask me, is mostly about believing in yourself so much that you make other people believe in you too.
And then we were up there, said her mother, we were at the top of the Ferris wheel, the very top! And I looked down and it was all so beautiful, the world. You forget sometimes how beautiful it is. That’s what the chandelier made me think of tonight, being at the top of the Ferris wheel, everything so bright and beautiful and possible you know?
We follow young Ferris as she is dealing with some issues in her pretty dysfunctional family as well as the surprising visit of a ghost. They involve her grandmother seeing the ghost in her room, her uncle with a painting project in their family basement and her rebellious little sister getting arrested for stealing.
“Ferris” is definitely like many of DiCamillo’s other works that center on family, but also weaves a special theme of love with a ghost. It also has a well-mixed cast of charming characters that each get plenty of book time. A cosy and slightly chaotic story with a family that brings plenty of love. A- (91%/Excellent)
3.5 Cutesy little family read aloud. We listened on a car trip. I loved all the references to other books and poems. Fun characters and the theme of family love and ordinary lives. Love this author for children.
My heart grew bigger and bigger as I read this book. It grew bigger to welcome and connect to the delightful cast of characters inside the pages. It grew bigger to accommodate the robust words I’d repeat and savor. And it grew bigger to embrace the beauty of family, friends and the power of connection that literally shone from the pages. Ferris is having an eventful summer: her sister is into all sorts of shenanigans, her Uncle Ted has moved into their basement, her grandmother is seeing ghosts and her father is after the racoons in their attic. Ferris tries to please them all, but it’s love that ultimately shines through and saves them all. I believe I have read just about every book Kate DiCamillo has written, but this one is truly my new favorite. It’s a love story in the best middle grade way possible.
I love Kate DiCamillo's writing. This book is no exception.
"Every story is a love story." How beautiful is that? Ferris' family is a loving one and that quality gives the reader, at least it gave me, a cozy feeling. No matter the unusual events, daily surprises, and troublemaker of a younger sister, Ferris is secure in her family's love for her. They go through the ups and downs together. The addition of some magical realism opens the story up to think outside the box and imagine. The lighting of the chandelier brings friends and family together, giving them each the healing they need.
I feel like I was dropped into the middle of a family’s life for a few weeks and then yanked out without any context to everything happening. This feels like a series of funny, sweet vignettes but it all happened so randomly and quickly that I don’t feel like I really connected with the characters. And I’m not at all sure this had a steady plot line. While the characters were interesting and some of the moments funny, I actually started to feel a little bored and anxious for it to be over by the time I was done. Definitely not my favorite book of hers. 😬
I still love & respect the great Kate DiCamillo, but unfortunately this wasn't my favorite. I felt like this novel was all characterization and very little plot. I wasn't a fan of the repeating refrains ("every good story is a love story") and didn't feel much of a struggle from the main character. But it was nice being dropped into the cozy world of some quirky characters for a little while.
But then, every story is a love story. Or every good story is a love story.
Every once in a while you're lucky enough to pick up just the right book at exactly the right time and you feel your heart change just a little bit.
I like Kate DiCamillo and she's an author I'm always willing to read. I think this book may have just bumped to my favorite book of hers. It was lovely in every way.
It was the summer before Emma Phineas Wilkey (who everyone called Ferris) went into the fifth grade.
Ferris, so named because of her birthplace, is living her life the best she can. She has a charming, quirky family and a best friend, Billy Jackson, who plays the piano. Her grandma Charisse is her favorite person in the world and lives upstairs.
“What are you afraid of, then?” said Ferris. “Indignities,” said Charisse. “I don’t understand,” said Ferris. “Isn’t that wonderful?” said Charisse. “I’m so pleased that you don’t understand.”
I always have a soft spot for books with grandparents, because like Ferris, my grandma was my favorite person. Everyone deserves to have someone who is their number one fan, and my grandma was that person for me.
Ferris's little sister is a force to be reckoned with. She has big dreams to be an outlaw.
Pinky was a fearsome mystery.
Ferris's uncle lives in the basement, painting the history of the world. His wife, in frustration, moved out and it's made him sad. He asks Ferris to go see her and feel her out.
“About me, honey. See if she misses me. I’m asking you to spy. I’m asking you to be a spy in the house of love.”
I love this description of Aunt Shirley.
Aunt Shirley was blond and pink. She looked like someone who had been spun out of sugar and placed on top of an elaborate, celebratory cake.
Mrs. Mielk was Ferris's fourth grade teacher. She had a fondness for vocabulary.
“Vocabulary is the key to the kingdom!” said Mrs. Mielk. “All of life hinges on knowing the right word to use at the right time.” The difference, Mrs. Mielk said, between the right word and the almost-right word was the difference between lightning and the lightning bug.
Mrs. Mielk shows up to Billy Jackson's father's restaurant and sits and cries. Ferris and Billy want to help her.
Mrs. Mielk, who loved words so much, had been rendered mute. “Grief does that,” said her mother. “Does what?” said Ferris. “Takes away your words,” said her mother. “At least for a while, it takes everything away.”
This book has so many feels in it. Reading through the quotes I marked has me teary-eyed all over again. This is definitely a book I would like to buy and read again. If you need a pleasant, short, feel-good story, definitely pick this one up!
Love. It was a word that Mrs. Mielk had not needed to teach her. It was a word that Ferris had known her whole life.
Creating just two new pages of writing a day, Kate DiCamillo had established herself as one of the great children's authors in American history decades before Ferris debuted in 2024. Ten-year-old Ferris Wilkey is in the midst of numerous small dramas among friends and family. Charisse, her grandmother, is physically weakening and giving hints she may not live much longer. Ferris's uncle Ted is separated from his wife, Aunt Shirley; Ted is working on a major art project and Shirley wishes he would take practical responsibility. Ferris's six-year-old sister Pinky is a terror, pulling stunts that land herself and the family in trouble. When will Ferris find normal?
"What happened if someone just kept diminishing? What happened if the diminishment never stopped?"
—Ferris, P. 175
"Loving someone takes a whole lot of courage. Some people just aren't up to the task."
—Ferris, P. 132
"You have to insist on being yourself. Do not let the world tell you who you are. Rather, tell the world who you are.
—Charisse, P. 49
What can Ferris and her best friend, Billy Jackson, do to ease tensions? Charisse claims a ghost is asking her to get the chandelier in the Wilkey dining room into working condition. She says the ghost needs this to be at peace. Ferris acts as go-between for Ted and Shirley, hoping to see them reconcile. There's not much anyone can do for Pinky, but if Ferris keeps an eye on her maybe she can save Pinky from crossing the line in a way that ends in tragedy. Ferris's family isn't normal, but they can navigate life's turns together. Isn’t that the point of family?
"It's all inconvenience...And then, suddenly it's over. And you find yourself thinking that you wouldn't mind a little inconvenience."
—Ferris, P. 117
"I don't understand any of it. I truly don't. The world is a mystery to me. But yet here we are, and our hearts keep on beating. They keep wanting things, don't they?"
—Uncle Ted, P. 107
Kate DiCamillo is one of my favorites, but Ferris misses the mark. Every story element is cliché or dull, from Mrs. Mielk's ceaseless stream of vocabulary words to the unoriginal rapport between Ferris and Billy Jackson. Pinky is practically irredeemable: rude, ignorant, self-absorbed. Her parents impose almost no behavioral guidance on this girl who badly needs it. Without their firm counsel, Pinky will end up universally disliked. The aftermath of the pliers scene is gratuitous and gross; few readers will be glad it's in the book. I rate Ferris one and a half stars because there are some terrific quotes, but I'd never recommend it.
Kate DiCamillo has done it again. She has the skills of a great storyteller, particularly for children. I'll be honest, the line "every good story is a love story" is a bit cheesy, in my opinion. What stuck with me is the language. Vocabulary is important. We're missing information when we rely on hot/cold, good/bad, happy/sad to tell a story. The words DiCamillo shares with her young readers are rich. She also has a way of emphasizing a love of learning, which I sometimes find missing in today's world of Google and Wikipedia. She brings back the old-fashioned encyclopedia. Now I'm really showing my age 😄