Inkling by Kenneth Oppel (review)

Ethan's dad is a graphic novelist who, since the death of Ethan's mom, hasn't done much of anything lately—no writing, no drawing, no dading—so Ethan has been caring for himself and his little sister Sarah, who has Down Syndrome. To top it off, Ethan wants, no, needs to learn to draw for a graphic novel project at school, and having the ideal person to help being completely unwilling to help is frustrating. Luckily, Inkling, a sentient blob of ink that learns as it consumes print text and images, manifests itself from Ethan's dad's sketchbooks, albeit in a glaringly underexplained fashion, and Ethan and Inkling immediately hit it off as the blob develops an impressive ability to write and draw. Unluckily, when more people—Ethan's dad, the dad's publisher, the publisher's daughter, who happens to also be Ethan's nemesis at school—start learning of Inkling's existence, they all immediately start scheming to take advantage. Uneven plotting for this relatively quick read undermines a lot of the emotional resonance of the story, but the extended metaphor about the plight of being a creative in a demanding industry is a clever one, even though the greedy publisher gets the last laugh. Despite the triumph of capitalism over art, the story does conclude with a touching moment with the family coming together to address what they've lost, and combined with sparse but effective illustrations and inkblots throughout, this may be an enjoyable read for budding young artists. WJ