Alcatraz Smedry seems like an ordinary preteen boy... except he has a particular talent for breaking things, he's an Oculator, and he's being chased by fascist Librarians. 
 And that's only the beginning of the insanity that goes on in "Alcatraz Vs. The Evil Librarians," a charming middle-school fantasy by fantasy titan Brandon Sanderson. And rather than playing the book's events straight, Sanderson keeps his tongue firmly placed in his cheek, both about his oddball hero ("If you are anything like me - clever, fond of goat cheese, and devilishly handsome") and about the topsy-turvy world of misinformation and paper monsters he inhabits. 
 On his thirteenth birthday, Alcatraz receives a bag of sand, which is allegedly from his birth parents. He's more concerned about being bounced from his latest foster home, and having nowhere to go -- until a man with a gun menaces him, and a strange old man who claims to be his grandfather rescues him from the evil "Librarian." Grandpa Smedry claims that he is an Oculator from the Free Kingdoms, and that the bag of sand is the power Sands of Rashid... which makes it problematic that the Librarians have stolen it. 
 Obviously Alcatraz believes the old man is insane at first, but goes along with it -- and soon discovers a strange world of paper monsters, silver-haired teen knights, bizarre talents (of which his "breaking things" is one), magical eyeglass lenses and hidden continents. They must infiltrate the local library to get back the Sands of Rashid before it's too late... but they also have a terrifying enemy in a Dark Oculator. Will Alcatraz, Bastille and Sing (yes, the characters have prison names) be able to save themselves, let alone the rest of the world?! 
 It's obvious from "Alcatraz vs. the Evil Librarians" that Brandon Sanderson had a fun time writing this one. It's whimsical nonsense ("secret" continents, evil Librarians and paper monsters), but he clearly relished reveling in that nonsense -- the entire book is a metafictional exercise written from Alcatraz's perspective as a sort of memoir, and he declares that the perception that it's all nonsense is because the Librarians have molded your mind and perceptions of reality to fit their ends, declaring that the "no Librarian is likely to recommend it." 
 And in the process, he has some fun with what people consider "serious" literature for kids ("Instead, his dog will die. Or, in some cases, his mother will die. If it's a really meaningful book, both his dog and his mother will die"), and twiddling with the idea of what is "realistic" and/or "nonsense." If real life has taught us anything, it's that people are easily lied to and deceived. See also: every election. 
 In the meantime, Sanderson presents us with a fun, colorful adventure that jaunts along at a rapid pace, full of funny little moments (such as Alcatraz explaining how he once "broke" a chicken) and quirky first-person narration ("If you are ever attacked by unstoppable monsters created entirely from bad romance novels..."). It has the typical elaborate forms of magic that you'd expect of any of his books, presented with a whimsy AND menace that is thoroughly entertaining. Nothing too deep here, just a rollicking adventure story that likes to poke fun at story tropes. 
 And Alcatraz himself is a fun lead character -- snarky, self-deprecating, and constantly reminding us that he's not a nice person (after all, would a nice person tantalize us with action and excitement, then go back to a depressingly awful birthday?), but we do see some of the scars from a life of foster care and massive breakage that have led to him being so oddly removed from others. And while they're not terribly developed yet, the other characters -- wildly eccentric Grandpa Smedry, the irascible Bastille, nonsense-spouting Quentin and weapons-happy Sing -- are all fun to read about. 
 Fun and light, "Alcatraz vs. The Evil Librarians" is an entertaining introduction for kids to the works of Brandon Sanderson -- clever, imaginative and very rarely slow-moving. Remember: Cantaloupe, fluttering paper makes a duck.