In the top of the fourth, Jennifer T. came up to bat again. She carried her slim blond bat over her shoulder like a fishing pole. She stepped up to home plate with her gaze at her shoetops. You could tell she that she was thinking, and that what she was thinking about was getting a hit. Jennifer T. was the only member of the Roosters–maybe the only kid on the whole Island of Clam–who truly loved baseball. She loved to wear a bright smear of green grass on her uniform pants and to hear her bat ringing in her hands like a bell. She could hit for average and with power, turn a double play all by herself, stretch a base hit into a triple and a triple into an inside-the-park home run. She never bragged about how good she was, or did anything to try to make the other players look bad. She did, however, insist that you call her “Jennifer T.,” and not just “Jennifer” or, worst of all, “Jenny.”

Chabon, Michael. Summerland: A Novel. New York: Hyperion Books for Children, 2002. (pp 22-23)

I’m picking up this book now because I’ve always wanted to read a book set in the season that I was living through. Summerland is that book. Bought it used, at the library ages ago. It sat on my shelf. Then it called out.

Also, I wanted to see if Summerland has been underrated. 21 years have past since it’s publication. Is it an overlooked gem in Chabon’s canon?