The writing style of the first 100 or so pages of WEST WITH GIRAFFES reads, I think, like a young adult novel, which I wouldn't normally care for. But I knew that this historical fiction is based on an actual story: in 1938 two giraffes really did live through a hurricane on board a ship to arrive at the coast of New York, where they were then put in crates and transported by truck all the way across the country to the San Diego Zoo. So I kept reading.

This book is a fictionalized story of their 12-day journey with their zookeeper (whose name has been changed to Riley Jones for this story) and two others who are pure fiction, the 17-year-old driver, Woody Nickel, a Dust Bowl orphan from the Texas Panhandle, and Augusta "Red," the redheaded photographer who follows the giraffes' journey. Together, including the giraffes, they deal with one adventure after another along their way. And it is these adventures that kept me reading until late at night. The book hooked me in, after all.

One problem I have with historical fiction is my need to know what is fiction and what is fact. Sometimes the authors include a note with the book to explain which parts they made up. Most often, they don't do that to my satisfaction, and that is the case with WEST WITH GIRAFFES. At least nowadays we have the Internet, so we can look it up. So far, I know that the zookeeper's name was really Charlie Smith.