Percy Jackson is ADHD, dyslexic, and prone to getting into fights. Between these, he’s been kicked out of one school a year, till he ends up in sixth grade in a boarding school for troubled children. There, his Latin teacher tells him that learning his classical myths is a matter of life and death and his algebra teacher turns into some sort of bat-creature and attacks him (Luckily, aforementioned Latin teacher tosses him a sword in the nick of time.) Eventually, he winds up at Camp Half-Blood: a camp for kids who are the children of unions between the Greek gods and mortals.
There’s some figuring-out and some prophesy and some questing and some more figuring-out, and throughout there are loads of Greek myths. It’s quite a bit of fun,and, for lack of a better term, really catchy — it was stuck in my head for the two days I was reading it. It didn’t make me miss my stop on the subway, but there was this constant stream of Percy Jackson-related thoughts running through the back of my mind. I’m not sure if this says more about the book or about my mind, but I enjoyed it.