Any one plot from this novel could be a story itself.
There’s the boy sent to a “camp” for juvenile delinquents in the desert.
There’s the interracial couple in the 19th century.
There’s the young man in Eastern Europe who breaks a promise to a gypsy woman.
There’s the woman whose entire life revolved around digging holes.
Each one could be a story, and each one is a good story. But Sachar didn’t settle for one story. He knitted them together, and he did it brilliantly. Remove one story, and the whole thing falls apart. But each man and woman’s life intersects in delicate, perfect ways, making for a perfect symphony of story.