a fellowship of bakers & magic

Have you ever felt catfished by a book cover? My expectations for a book might not have lined up with reality, but I don’t think I felt deliberately misled by a cover until this book. For a couple of decades of reading, that’s pretty good, right? Anyway, J. Penner’s A Fellowship of Bakers & Magic is billed as what the title sounds like: a mashup of a Lord of the Rings-style world and the Great British Bake Off.

 

A human, a dwarf and an elf walk into a bake-off…

In the heart of Adenashire, where elvish enchantments and dwarven delights rule, human baker Arleta Starstone works twice as hard at perfecting her unique blend of baking with apothecary herbs. So, when her orc neighbor (and biggest fan) secretly enters her creations into the prestigious Langheim Baking Battle, Arleta faces a dilemma. Being magicless, her participation in the competition could draw more scowls than smiles. And if Arleta wants to prove her talent and establish her culinary reputation, she'll need more than just her pastry craft to sweeten the odds.

Though Arleta may not yet believe in herself, she makes her way to Langheim―with the help of a very attractive woodland elf―and competes. While on a journey of mouthwatering pastries, self-discovery, heartwarming friendships, and potential romance, Arleta will have to decide whether winning the Baking Battle is the true prize after all. But win or lose, her adventure is only beginning…

Take one human girl, living in a land full of “more special” others: elves, dwarves, orcs, and so on (but none of them are the dangerous sort of orcs, dwarves, etc.). Give her one – the least desirable – spot at the market to sell her baking wares. Add a huge helping of self-doubt. Mix with supportive neighbors (think surrogate parents) who believe you can do anything. Mix well, bake, and…oh! You got entered in the most prestigious baking competition in the land, AGAINST YOUR WILL AND KNOWLEDGE? And a gorgeous blond wood elf shows up to escort you to the competition that is a lot like a certain British baking competition we all know and love?! Oh no, woe is me! My life is falling apart!! Yep, that’s Arleta Starstone, our protagonist.

While the plot ostensibly hinges on winning and being declared best baker in Adenashire, the book is really about “the friends we made along the way.” That wouldn't be dissatisfying on its own, but Arleta is insufferable. I mean that from the depths of my cold, dead heart. She self-sabotages so much that it doesn’t feel intentional by the author – it’s like she couldn’t figure out the next plot point, so oh hey, let’s mess with the characterization in a way that makes no sense. Arleta isn’t a dynamic, round character, so spending time in her head is a total drag. And let’s not get into the slow-burn Legolas wish fulfillment arc – I've read much better fanfiction of that!

Beyond the characters, the setting, magic system and cultural dynamics are wasted in this narrative. They rely on nothing so much as understanding high school cliches. For instance, rename the popular crowd “elves” and voilà! You would think there would at least be moments of joy in descriptions of baking and food. However, these are so overwritten – think recipe blogs – or glossed over (whiplash!) that they become skippable.

This book wanted to be a cozy fantasy sensation, but instead it reads like bad fanfiction of other peoples’ more interesting fictional worlds. The publisher very clearly wants to cash in on the success of Legends and Lattes-style books, but this misses the mark, and needs intense editing. I’m unimpressed and deeply regret the time I spend trying to read it. Back to the library it goes!

Recommended for: those who enjoy saccharine fantasy romance and don’t bother much with the quality of the language, plot, or characters. Yes, I’m a hater!

taproot: a story about a gardener and a ghost

Do you participate in your library’s summer reading program? I always do, ever since I found out that the Arlington Public Library allows adults to sign up. I live in a major metropolitan area, where there are many library jurisdictions that allow reciprocal membership as long as you live in the area, and so I conveniently have several library memberships. This year, I decided to go the extra mile and participate in several summer reading programs. Yes, I am laughing at myself. Anyway, I spent a lot of time in libraries this summer, and during one visit I checked out and read Keezy Young's young adult fantasy graphic novel from 2017, Taproot: A Story About A Gardener and A Ghost.

 

Blue has been living as a ghost for a year when he meets Hamal, a beautiful and sweet gardener who has the ability to see and communicate with ghosts. Together, their friendship develops into something more, but being a ghost, Blue can never truly be connected with Hamal.

When Blue realizes Hamal’s strange ability may be putting him in danger, Blue has to find a way to protect him--even if it means leaving him.

Taproot is a sweet, gentle, and cozy story about a gardener, Hamal, who just so happens to be able to speak to ghosts. He also has a way with plants, and is hiding a secret: he’s in love with Blue, a ghost who will eventually have to leave (and who incidentally loves him back, but is trying to set him up with other people to ensure his happiness!). Hamal’s work in the greenhouse is the backdrop for many interactions to start the book, but the little town he lives in and its other landscapes form much of the rest. Hamal’s ghost friends are rendered in flat blue to signify their unreality, but the rest of the book is vibrantly layered, with amazing detail.

The highlights of this book are its lush, gorgeous artwork, and warm heart. There are queer characters here, but the point isn’t their queerness – Taproot is a story about forming real, lasting relationships (platonic and/or romantic), and adding good into the world, in whatever little ways are available to you. I found it a refreshing palate cleanser after a couple of books I wasn’t keen on, and then one that made me cry. Cozy comfort is not to be trifled with!

In all, Taproot is a delightfully cozy story that features light spooky elements, a sweet hint of queer romance, and marvelous illustrations.

Recommended for: fans of Kay O’Neill’s Tea Dragon Society series, Tillie Walden’s On A Sunbeam, and other earnest and cozy speculative stories (with great art!).

atana and the firebird

I can’t remember now how I heard about Vivian Zhou’s middle grade fantasy graphic novel Atana and the Firebird, but I was halfway to loving it by reading the title.Then I took a look at the cover art, and it was all over. Zhou’s cover is one of the most stunning I’ve seen – with beautiful color and a clear nod to its fantastical characters and setting. Luckily, the story inside the cover is an excellent adventure to match!

Atana’s island may be quiet and peaceful, but mostly, it’s lonely. With the outside world full of magic hunters who would stop at nothing to capture a mermaid like her, Atana has never been brave enough to swim far from her island’s shores and seek the answers to her mysterious past—until a firebird named Ren unexpectedly crashes into her life.

Ren’s arrival does not go unnoticed, as it has been hundreds of years since a firebird last landed on Earth. Determined to both protect Ren and finally chase the answers she’s longed for, Atana embarks on an adventure that takes her and the firebird to strange new islands and entangles them with the powerful yet secretive Witch Queen.

Generous though the Witch Queen’s offer of protection may be, an invitation to the Blue Palace can’t come without a price. And while the Palace’s splendid halls and library might hold the key to Atana’s past, will she be willing to pay the cost when it risks her chance of a bright new future?

Atana is a mermaid, but a strange one: she lives alone, on land, and is exiled from her people. It turns out that is because she is a subject of prophecy. The titular firebird, Ren, is adventurous and independent, and runs away from her flock to explore earth rather than watch it from afar (firebirds are from space, apparently). The two meet mid-ocean, Atana offers her services as a guide to libraries, palaces, and wherever Ren wants to go… and from there it’s action, action, action!!!

Atana and Ren are big-hearted heroines, but not everyone around them has such pure motivations. They meet Cosmos, a palace witch guard in training, who wants to find her sister, adults with murky motives, and are chased at multiple points by guards/pirates/etc. who use interesting magic-fuelled tech. Atana and Ren’s story is an exciting, travel-filled narrative with a bit of a twist, and the start of a fun adventure series, with a sprinkling of mythology and legend mixed in. It briefly explores ideas about belonging, personal autonomy, and friendship, but as a series-starter is focused on action over deep conversation in dialogue.

Zhou created her illustrations in Adobe Photoshop, and they do have that digital-drawn feel. Unfortunately, the bright, layered, and saturated art of the cover is a one-off – the book’s color palette is pastel with only a few pops of color. Most pages contain several small panels, so the narrative feels fast-paced and urgent. Only a few page spreads focus on landscape – the focus of the art is on figures/characters and their interactions with each other. While the art of course is central to the story, it is simple and a bit stark.

In all, Atana and the Firebird is a sweet and enjoyable fantasy adventure story for young readers, with hints of an interesting series to come. Its sequel, Atana and the Jade Mermaid, is next on my to-read list!

Recommended for: fans of Kate Wheeler's Goat Magic and Kat Leyh’s Snapdragon, and readers who are into adventurous and magical middle grade books.

soul machine

I try to keep on top of new graphic novel releases for two reasons. One, they are by far the most popular reads in my classroom library. My students gobble them up during choice reading time. Two, I personally love a good sci-fi or fantasy story, and some of the best new work in that genre is produced in graphic novel format. So when I found out about Jordana Globerman’s Soul Machine, I placed a pre-order. It didn’t hurt that it was during Barnes & Noble’s preorder sale, either!

Chloe and her older sister make souls by hand in an empty old house in the countryside. When their supply of breth—the raw material needed to make souls—runs dry, the evil MCorp tries to force them to franchise and make synthetic souls instead. Chloe sets out to the big city in hopes of finding a new source. And maybe a way to modernize their business that Lacey is so determined to keep in the past.

On a journey to find a real breth crop, untouched by MCorp’s greedy hands, Chloe uncovers long-buried family secrets—and starts to question whom to trust and what reality even is.

A beautifully rendered debut, Soul Machine is at once a metaphysical science-fiction story and a nuanced exploration of big ideas: spirituality, family, consciousness, and connection, but also unscrupulous consumption, megacorporations, and how egomaniac entrepreneurs impact our lives.

Soul Machine is the story of two sisters, Chloe and Lucy, trying to carry out their parents' wishes and rescue their dying family business (and failing). Their parents are dead or disappeared, and while younger sister Chloe is full of optimism about answers, and ready to charge out into the world to try and find a way to keep the business afloat, Lucy – who has been Chloe’s de facto parent – is more skeptical. They are insulated in the countryside, but in the city, MCorp reigns through monopoly and is promising an artificial counterpart to their family’s handmade product: souls. When Chloe reaches the city and encounters two very different women, she begins to doubt the story of her family that Lucy has always told her, and to doubt her way forward for the world. What will happen next?

My honest opinion is that this book was trying to be and do too many things, and so it succeeded at none of them. The story started with sisterly combativeness, which didn’t ring true from the very beginning – there wasn’t enough emotional depth evident (especially on Lucy’s side), and the dialogue was awkward before the sisters separated and the plot moved forward. Which leads me to my second issue: DIALOGUE in general. One of the ways dialogue was mishandled was in the character of Maya, the ever-present figurehead of MCorp, which seemingly controlled the consumer-based society. Maya as a figurehead seemed to embody physical perfection, a la the Kardashians, as well as a tech mogul position (think Mark Zuckerberg). She is meant to be a satirical caricature, which, fine. However, to signify her actual incompetence – in other words, to break down the stereotype of a creative genius founder – Maya uses slang. Words like “boo” and “okurr” pop up in her speech bubbles. This usage of AAVE (African American Vernacular English) in a narrative in which there are no major people of color is racially charged in a bad way.

Author-illustrator Globerman is also trying to set up a classist hippie (who wants to dictate who deserves a soul) vs. capitalist robber baron hate match. Given that the story is told from Chloe’s POV, and she has serious gaps in her understanding of the issues at hand, info-dumping is necessary, and for both sides it comes off at times as villain (or antihero) monologuing. The insubstantial feel of the “science” in the book and its lack of emotional heart combine with the above and muddle the message overall. The attempt is ambitious, and I applaud it – we need more young adult and middle grade books that delve into the “big” problems of society. However, I don’t think it coheres in Soul Machine.

My one major love in this book = the illustrations. Globerman’s art, with distinctive inking and panels colored mostly in shades of either pink or blue, are beautiful, interesting, and add depth. The book is worth rifling through for the art alone. I will certainly be keeping my eye out for Globerman’s work in the future.

While this satirical and metaphysical young adult graphic novel did not work for me, some will enjoy its engrossing art, and its attempt to tackle major societal issues.

Recommended for: fans of graphic novel art, ambitious science fiction ideas, and satire.

goat magic

Kate Wheeler is a familiar artist – I’ve been following her adventures on Instagram for years. So I was very excited to see her publicize her debut middle grade fantasy graphic novel. One of my favorite genres, from an author I know I like? Bless. I read it right away and loved it. Goat Magic is out today from Oni Press!

Trill, a spirited goat herder with a unique ability to communicate with her flock, yearns for a life beyond mountain pastures. Her “goat magic” feels common compared to the sorcery taught in the city’s prestigious magic schools, which are off-limits to her. Meanwhile, Princess Alya, known as the “Ordinary Princess” and heir to the kingdom of Capeya, doubts her own royal potential.

Their worlds collide when an assassination attempt on the queen leaves Alya cursed to transform into a black goat each sunrise. Seeking refuge in Trill's goat herd, Alya discovers her new friend's hidden talent is her only hope to break the spell. Together, they embark on a perilous journey back to the castle, facing treacherous foes and uncovering a web of betrayal and rebellion.

As Alya battles to reclaim her throne and restore order to Capeya, the girls discover a deep connection, their shared experiences forging an unbreakable bond. When Alya comes face to face with the ones who betrayed her, will she have what it takes to take back the crown and rule an unstable kingdom? Will Trill find confidence in her magic and the growing affection she has for her friend?

With fast-paced action, enchanting magic, and a budding romance, Goat Magic is a captivating graphic novel perfect for fans of fantasy adventure.

 

Goat Magic opens on the humble farm where Trill and her mother keep a herd of goats. They live out in the Faces, a remote, magical part of the country where the rock formations look like ancient gods have been frozen in rest. Trill is off to the market by herself for the first time – a bit (adult!) step. At the same time, there is unrest within the royal family, as the heir to the throne, Alya, doesn’t have any magical abilities, and hence has been dubbed “The Ordinary Princess.” On a diplomatic trip, Alya’s mother, the Queen of Capeya, is attacked, and Alya herself is cursed – she becomes a goat during daylight hours and reverts to human form by the light of the moon. You can probably imagine what happens next: Alya meets Trill, observes her unique goat-herding magic firsthand, and has lots of her beliefs challenged by the experience. In addition, first love is in the air…

Wheeler says in the afterward and on social media that she was inspired by classic fantasy adventures from her childhood reading. It shows – mostly in good ways. The plot is a bit formulaic (think the hero’s journey), but the magic and world building feel refreshingly unique. Wheeler also includes very satisfying details about food, myths, and familial relationships – the things that round out and flesh out any culture or story and make them more believable. And lest I forget to mention them, the adorable goat characters also each have their own personalities and foibles.

The vibe of the book overall is The Witcher-meets-Studio Ghibli, and I know it will be a huge hit with the 9-12-year-old set as well as an older crowd. Wheeler’s art and “style” remind me quite a bit of the excellent Kay O’Neill (The Tea Dragon Society and The Moth Keeper) and Wendy Xu (Tidesong) – with good use of color, lovely landscapes, and expressive character faces.

In all, Goat Magic is a fantasy mystery wrapped in an adventure. It has notes of The Well (journey to remove a mysterious curse, budding sapphic romance) and classic fairy tale The Goose Girl (transformation tale). It's a quick, satisfying adventure into a novel world. I would love to read more adventures set in Capeya, or whatever Wheeler has up next!

Recommended for: fantasy readers ages 9 and up, and anyone interested in fantastic worldbuilding and fun and energetic graphic novel art!

 

Fine print: I received an advanced digital copy of the text from the publisher for review consideration. I did not receive any compensation for this post.

poetry comics

It is often surprising to me what is popular in my classroom library. I have some idea of what might be of interest to my high school students (of course!) and I supply those books whenever my budget allows. I picked up Grant Snider's graphic novel Poetry Comics on a whim at an ALA convention, and given its intended audience–much younger readers–I didn’t think it would resonate, but I put it on the shelf anyway. Imagine my shock when it turned out to be a choice reading time sleeper hit! After seeing several students pick it up, I decided to take a closer look myself, and I can see why it was (is!) in demand.

 

Combining poetry and comics in a whole new way, this fun and imaginative book is perfect for poetry lovers and reluctant readers alike.

From the cloud-gazing hours of early spring to the lost bicycles of late autumn, Grant Snider’s brilliantly illustrated Poetry Comics will take you climbing, floating, swimming, and tumbling through all the year’s ups, downs, and in-betweens. He proves that absolutely everything, momentous or minuscule, is worthy of attention, whether snail shells, building blocks, the lamented late bus, or the rare joy of unscuffed shoes. These poems explore everything you never thought to write a poem about, and they’re so fun to read you’ll want to write one yourself. Not to worry, there’s a poem for that, too!

Poetry Comics is just what it sounds like: a book of comics but also a poetry anthology. Each page, or each couple of pages, consist of poem(s) told panel by panel, in integrated, illustrated format. As one might guess from the cover illustration, the poems focus on nature, following the structure of the seasons, with some variation and tangents to take on the art of poem-writing itself, identity, and even things like waiting for a late bus. The compilation, while meant for young readers in the 7-12 age range, will also be of interest to aspiring comics artists and writers of all ages.

Snider’s art is simplistic, with basic 2D figures and landscapes, and a focus on the sky and horizon. Primary colors, fairly literal interpretations of each poem, and two “characters” (a boy and a girl) dominate the panels when nature and the natural world does not take center stage. Snider also makes interesting use of panels and the gutter–the white space around panels–on each page.

As far as the poems themselves, Snider’s key features are alliteration, repetition, lists (catalog), and of course the aforementioned organization around seasons and seasonal changes. My favorite poems in the book are “How to Write a Poem” numbers 1, 2, 3, and 4. Ah! Can’t forget to mention the structure of Snider’s poems too: a lack of commas, sparse periods and end stops, and very short poems overall. Each poem stands alone: some merely a single line, others still short but spreading over two pages. They don’t have to be read in any particular order either. Beyond that, the most stand-out thing about them is their clever titling, which amused me most.

According to the notes in the book, Snider’s illustrations are done in pen and marker, and reedited in Photoshop. The balance in the book definitely leans to image over text, which, while pleasing to the eye, does not grant a huge amount of depth, since those images themselves are also fairly simplistic. A note: they contain no evidence of phones or digital life, and in that way feel timeless.

Overall, Poetry Comics is a decent collection of poems and art for young people that may inspire adventures and a couple of reflective, poignant moments.

Recommended for: readers ages 7+, and read alouds with younger children to foster reflection and contemplation.

 

Fine print: I picked up an advanced copy of this title for review consideration at an ALA conference. I did not receive any compensation for this post.

grace needs space!

Art is so powerful – in the present, in memory, and as a part of literature. While I had seen Rii Abrego’s work before (I reviewed Abrego and Joe Whitt’s The Sprite and the Gardener here on the blog!), I wasn’t following her other projects. However, I knew I recognized her art style from somewhere when I found it at SPX (Small Press Expo, an indie comics conference held each fall in Bethesda, Maryland), where author Benjamin A. Wilgus was tabling. I asked a question or two, and was sold immediately on their collaboration: middle grade science fiction graphic novel Grace Needs Space!

 

Grace is SO EXCITED to fly a freighter from her home space station (and away from her BORING mother Evelyn) to a faraway moon! Plus, she'll get some quality time with her FUN mom Kendra--something Grace definitely needs. Finally, a real adventure that Grace can get excited about while the rest of her space station friends go away for their summer vacations.

But when Kendra is too focused on work, Grace's first big trip suddenly becomes kind of lonely. Grace had so many plans for fun. But all it takes is one quick decision to explore the moon by herself before Grace's adventure suddenly becomes not so out of this world at all. With her mom mad at her, Grace wants nothing more than to return home. Then their ship breaks down. Will Grace be able to get through to her mom and save their trip in the end?

Grace is a space-obsessed tween who has been begging to go on a trip with her Ba, a traveller between space stations. To Grace, her Ba lives a life full of mysterious glamour. She, on the other hand, lives a “boring,” stationary life with her other mother, the chief engineer on a space station, and is super excited for a taste of travel and planetary adventure. She’s been anticipating their trip to Titan for so long and built it up in her head… (you can see where this is going). The reality ends up being both more and less exciting than her expectations, in unanticipated ways.

Grace Needs Space! speaks to a lot of universal ideas and themes: growing independence and developing identity, the juxtaposition of curiosity with physical limits, and parents (and adults in general) letting kids down. Wilgus’ story includes one of the most nuanced portrayals of divorced parents that I’ve ever seen in a middle grade book, with believable tension, interactions, and an open-ended conclusion.

Grace is beyond excited for a fun trip with her Ba, Kendra, and instead learns quickly that it is a no-nonsense work trip for her parent. This letdown is the first of several, and while her messages back home to her mother are cheery, the experience isn’t living up to ideas and ideals. While at age 12 she feels grown up, she’s not treated like an adult. Throughout the trip and on Titan, she has lots of free time and freedom, but not in a kid-friendly way. Realizing and reacting to her parents’ differing parenting styles, and being hungry for information and life experience, will resonate with most readers.

Abrego’s art is gorgeous. Her figures cute and stylized, with lots of color, rounded faces, big eyes, and diverse body types, skin colors, and clothing styles. Some of the most impactful panels include Grace’s looks of wonder upon experiencing new things, the gorgeous (and alien!) planetary landscapes, and details of space travel and extra-planetary life. Abrego’s illustrations definitely add depth to the story and complement it perfectly.

In all, Grace Needs Space! is an insightful, beautiful story about the growing pains of coming of age, and the ways in which people and expectations can let us down, or lift us up. It’s also absolute fun and a visual marvel: it contains multitudes!

Recommended for: readers ages 8 and up (though would be perfectly acceptable for younger readers who are reading up), fans of science fiction, and anyone looking for beautifully-illustrated graphic novels.

hockey girl loves drama boy

In a moment of reading serendipity, a friend recently recommended to me a book that I already had on my to-read list (and better yet, had already bought!). That book was Faith Erin Hicks’ 2023 young adult graphic novel Hockey Girl Loves Drama Boy. I was sold at hockey + rom-com, but with a friend’s genuine excitement in play, it moved up to the top of the pile, and I finished it – and loved it – earlier this month, just in time for Valentine’s Day.

It should have been a night of triumph for Alix’s hockey team. But her mean teammate Lindsay decided to start up with her usual rude comments and today Alix, who usually tries to control her anger, let it finally run free. Alix lashes out and before she knows it, her coach is dragging her off Lindsay, and the invitation to the Canada National Women’s U18 Team’s summer camp is on the line.

She needs to learn how to control this anger, and she is sure Ezra, the popular and poised theater kid from her grade is the answer. So she asks for his help. But as they hang out and start get closer, Alix learns that there is more to Ezra than the cool front he puts on. And that maybe this friendship could become something more...

Alix loves hockey and hockey loves her back. However, her team captain Lindsey has been slowly breaking down that passion with bullying, and one day Alix snaps and responds with physical aggression. In an effort to learn how to control and move past her anger, Alix reaches out to well-liked, poised drama geek Ezra. With Ezra’s help, Alix hopes to prove to her coach that she deserves a spot at a prestigious hockey camp. Somewhere in the midst of hanging out at his family’s second hand store, going to a public ice skate (peak Canadian!), and helping to put together the school’s production of Little Shop of Horrors, Alix and Ezra start to crush on each other. However, Ezra’s best friend is upset that he's hanging out with Alix, and Alix’s mom (a Canadian-famous artist) isn’t a fan of hockey for her own reasons… among other impediments. Will it all turn out in the end? Spoiler alert: there’s a rom-com worthy happy ending!

Author-illustrator Hicks’ characters are the highlight of this story. Quiet, stoic-seeming Aliz is learning to deal with an excess of emotion all of a sudden, and navigating complex and fraught family relationships as well as a romantic relationship for the first time. It’s enough to stress anyone out, but Alix’s drive to improve in hockey fuels changes in other areas of her life as well. Alix is open to new experiences, and so she grows! Other main character Ezra seems like he has his life together, but he too is struggling – with trust, and to be a good person – to not take advantage of those who love him. Together, they’re a delightful bundle of hormones, issues, and identity crises. How does Hicks turn this into a viable rom-com after all??! 

First, with character revelations, like the fact that Ezra is still figuring out his sexual identity, but he can fight homophobic bullies in the meantime! And then a road trip complete with pancakes and a car breakdown, and finally, with a hockey game and boba tea. Throw it all together, and you get a graphic novel that is, at times, too cute for words!

Hicks’ illustrations feature black ink linework on a white background, with some spots of sky blue as highlights, and really focus on details that move the plot along. There’s a lot of movement and emotion in Hicks’ drawings, which for this book were drawn first digitally, and then inked on paper with a watercolor brush. Some of my favorite scenes were ones that included hockey play, but my absolute favorite panels were two where Alix is thinking about Ezra and has a bunch of little hearts floating around her head, and then they “pop!” like bubbles as she convinces herself that there’s no way that Ezra could return her feelings. All that to say, the story would be great regardless, but the illustrations add wonderful layers of enjoyment and meaning. 

In all, Hockey Girl Loves Drama Boy is a satisfying young adult romance with LGBTQ+ representation, excellent swoon factor, and art that will knock your socks off. 

Recommended for: fans of young adult romances and hockey, and anyone looking for an authentic and heartwarming story!

a place to hang the moon

There are lots of excellent books for children out in the world. I would define "excellent" in a couple of different ways, but to really earn the title, a book should be interesting, funny, heartwarming (or in general make you feel some true emotion deeply). And a book needn't have all of the above, but it should have SOME of these elements. Kate Albus' middle grade novel A Place to Hang the Moon got just about the highest recommendation I could think of a few years ago from a trusted source (a fellow Cybils judge) online, so I immediately bought it. It then sat unread on my shelf for three years. *crying emoji* Luckily, a young person I know and love just turned ten and is a voracious reader, just like the characters in this book, so I picked up off the shelf and finally read it... so that we could have a wonderful chat about it when she does. And now that I know personally how lovely it is, I can't wait to see what she thinks.

 

It is 1940 and William, 12, Edmund, 11, and Anna, 9, aren’t terribly upset by the death of the not-so-grandmotherly grandmother who has taken care of them since their parents died.

But the children do need a guardian, and in the dark days of World War II London, those are in short supply, especially if they hope to stay together. Could the mass wartime evacuation of children from London to the countryside be the answer?

It’s a preposterous plan, but off they go– keeping their predicament a secret, and hoping to be placed in a temporary home that ends up lasting forever. Moving from one billet to another, the children suffer the cruel trickery of foster brothers, the cold realities of outdoor toilets and the hollowness of empty stomachs.

But at least they find comfort in the village lending library– a cozy shelter from the harshness of everyday life, filled with favorite stories and the quiet company of Nora Müller, the kind librarian.  The children wonder if Nora could be the family they’ve been searching for... But the shadow of the war, and the unknown whereabouts of Nora’s German husband complicate matters. 

A Place to Hang the Moon is a story about the importance of family: the one you’re given, and the one you choose.

Anna, Edmund, and William (listed in order from youngest to oldest, and William at a lofty 12-years-old!) are siblings growing up in the midst of London during World War II. They've been sheltered while living at their grandmother's house (because they are orphans), but now she's dead as well and they don't have a guardian. Never mind the bombs being dropped by German planes! So, they join a troop of kids from a nearby school and are evacuated to the countryside. An unlikely goal also resides in their hearts – to find a forever home in their billet, with a family who thinks "hang the moon," as their dead parents used to say. Of course, wanting something and making it happen are two different things.

Although Albus doesn't describe the countryside sparsely, per se, she saves her description mostly for interior scenes (with a few notable exceptions – rat-catching, for one!), and so most of the book indoor activities and interpersonal interactions. It is through these interactions that the reader really takes the measure of the siblings. William, responsible, solid, and a little bit anxious – made into a parent for his younger siblings and feeling the strain. Edmund, irrepressible and without filter, and with a strong sense of justice (and injustice). Anna still with some little girl softness and optimism that William especially doesn't want to crush. These children are thrust into life as evacuees, with no backup plan, and so they make the best of it – experiencing sometimes wonderful and at times awful things in search of a forever home.

 

One thing the author does particularly well is to incorporate books and a love of reading (and there are different flavors of this in each of the children) into the book in general. Allusions to the books that would have been popular in the 1940s are woven throughout the story and suffuse the book with a warmth and sense of time that makes it feel, as much as a modern book can, of that era. I told a friend of mine that it has Narnia vibes. There isn't a magic wardrobe, but the sibling adventures (and squabbles, of course) as well as the countryside away from the bombing and without parents – these things align. The mentions of A Little Princess throughout mirrored the wish-fulfillment that the children experienced, and heightened the emotional weight of the story. Albus knows how to turn on the waterworks. Also, I want to assure you, dear reader, that yes, there is a happy ending!

Something I am always thinking of, as an IB teacher, is who the intended audience of a text is, and how that may change its meaning. As an adult, I am not the intended audience for this story, but I found it extremely charming, cozy, and heartwarming. I believe its intended audience will find it an adventure and a half – American youngsters typically won't have experience (or even generational knowledge of) with gas masks, evacuations, rat-catching, victory gardens, and more. But with such a lovely story attached, they may become curious about these foreign objects and activities and end up enamored with the time period and/or historical fiction in general. 

In all, A Place to Hang the Moon is a cozy, heart-wrenching gem of a story that calls back to the classics of the middle grade genre. 

Recommended for: young people ages 8 and up who like sibling stories, adventures, and who understand the joy of reading a good book. Would be an excellent bedtime read aloud as well, for children ages 7 and up.

like so

How do you discover new picture books? I used to go into libraries and physical bookstores, but these days teaching takes up much more of my free time, and browsing in person feels increasingly indulgent and rare. School Library Journal’s free summertime digital event, Picture Book Palooza, has been a great resource for me these past few years – publishers highlight their latest releases all in one place, and I’m able to spend as much or as little time as I have on discovery. All of that to say, Picture Book Palooza introduced me to poet Ruth Forman and illustrator Raissa Figueroa's Like So, a beautiful picture book I am sure I wouldn’t have encountered otherwise.

From bestselling author Ruth Forman and Coretta Scott King Illustrator Award Honoree Raissa Figueroa comes a lyrical and vibrant picture book honoring the love and bond that exists between family and child even in complicated times.

Told from Nana’s point of view, this simple, affirming, and comforting read-aloud shows how every family’s love is natural and connected to the world around us. Just as the sun loves the day, the moon loves the waves, and the night sky loves the star glow…so is our love for each other: innate, wondrous, and infinite.

Ruth Forman’s narrative in Like So is about the love between a grandmother (or perhaps even a great-grandmother!) and granddaughter. That love spans time and place, and illustrates how love is felt in different contexts. Forman’s story begins with kisses and hugs exchanged in a domestic environment and then moves out into nature. Nature is used to compare how big their love is – with the titular repeated “like so.” Their love for each other is as big as butterflies on a sunny day, the moon and waves at night, days, trees, chickadees, and more. No matter where or when, the love between them is as big as the universe.

 

Neither grandmother nor grandchild are named or given those specific titles or relationship within the story, so it is possible that it could be about elders and children in general, or a great aunt and a great-niece, for instance. Through extended similes the text assures younger readers (or listeners!) that they are safe, loved, and secure. Overall, the word choices throughout are spare, simple, and poetic – with just a few words or a sentence at most on each page, and full phrases sometimes set over several page spreads, such as this excerpt:

 

“I got love like you

you got love like me

we got love

like so.”

 

Raissa Figueroa’s expressive and expansive art combines with the brief text for a picture book experience that seems at first almost entirely visual. The sky is a huge focus in the outdoor illustrations – appearing in ombre pinks, purples, and blues of daylight, sunset, and deep night, depending on the page. The paired figures of granddaughter and grandmother appear together both throughout the seasons and on every page until the last few, when they appear together only in the stars – indicating perhaps that the grandmother figure has passed away, but her love is still present. Little smears of white, which at first seems to be flour from working on a project together in the kitchen, and then maybe the glittering of butterfly wings, and then perhaps snow – connect each of the different scenes together, until it becomes the starlit love up in the sky.

 

In all, Like So is a beautiful marriage of both text and images that celebrates intergenerational relationships and love. It’s brief enough read to appeal to very young readers and their adults as well. There’s an excellent read aloud by the author available on YouTube, if you don’t have time to go out and get a copy right away!

 

Recommended for: read alouds for young ones ages two to five, and their adults, and anyone looking for stories that beautifully illustrate the relationships between elders and the very young.

 

Fine print: I received an advanced digital copy of the text from the publisher at Picture Book Palooza. I did not receive any compensation for this post.

the night mother, volume one

Middle grade fantasy graphic novel The Night Mother, Volume One by Jeremy Lambert, illustrated by Alexa Sharpe, and with additional design by Becca Carey was one of the titles on my 2024 book gift guide as a great pick for slightly older elementary school kids (ages 8-12), and I’d like to expand on that recommendation a little bit today. As I mentioned in the guide, this slim volume is “a full-color, gorgeously-illustrated series-starter of a graphic novel…that brings together: clocks, a girl who can hear the dead, and a ripping adventure story.”

Endless night befalls a sleepy seaside town, leaving it to young Madeline Tock to save her community from a threat known only as the Night Mother...

The moon is stuck like a broken clock in the midnight sky, the sun a distant memory. No one in this quiet seaside town can remember how long this unnatural darkness has lasted. No one, that is, except for the curious girl who lives in the graveyard, caring for the dead: twelve-year-old Madeline Tock. In gratitude, the departed whisper their worries to her, sounding just like her overprotective but loving father: beware this endless night and she who causes it.

Because there’s someone else who can hear the whispers, too...someone whose gown is a map of the cosmos, hair a tangled constellation, eyes like the lights of faraway stars. The Night Mother. Her elemental duty is to gather the souls of the dead in her lantern, then send them to their eternal rest as beautiful moonlight. But when her hunger for power drives her to take souls from the living, Madeline bravely stands up to defend her town and those she loves. Can Madeline help bring back the sun, or will she be lured by the starry promises of this mysterious woman?

 

Barnabus Tock is an inventor, clock-maker, astronomer, and gravedigger living on the edges of a small seaside town, and his passion (aside from studying the cosmos) is his daughter Madeline (or Maddy) Tock. The moon has stopped moving in the sky, and so it is forever night, and the lack of tides and cold mean that the world is in peril. Amid this upheaval, Maddy’s strange power, an ability to hear the dead, is causing her father extra stress. Is it related in some way to the legend of the mysterious Night Mother and the moon’s stationary position, and if so… is she in danger?

 

As a series starter, the focus of this brief volume (88 pages short!) is introducing the world the Tocks live in, setting up major character conflict, and moving the plot forward just enough to spark interest in the next entry in the series. And it succeeds at all three of these elements. Setting-wise, the Tock family’s abode is a church that has been converted into a scientist’s workshop, but Maddy prefers to roam as far as her overprotective father will let her – and so she hears the voices of the dead as they are floated down the river in coffins, and then helps her father bury them in their (grave)yard. Maddy’s strange upbringing is apparent right from the start of the story in the juxtaposition of vaulted arches, stained glass windows, and spooky voices emanating from closed coffins. From there, the plot develops as a stranger washes up in town during a storm, and Maddy begins to wonder who the Night Mother is, why she has stopped the moon, and what she might be hunting for.

 

As the protagonist, Maddy is the focus of the story, but there is enough time allotted on page to her father, the Night Mother, and the stranger dumped onto the town by a rogue wave (not to mention the voices of the dead!) that several characters feel fairly fleshed out. As a typical pre-teen, Maddy’s concerns are gaining independence, doing the right thing, and protecting her family. When her ideas and beliefs are challenged by the narrative, she is adaptive and brave – two excellent characteristics for a future heroine! There are lots of scene changes while running away, revelations and secrets, and magical powers used (and abused) enough for a whole series of stories. It’s an excellent adventure, and one that is sure to lure many readers in and leave them longing for volume 2.

 

While the story is inventive and engaging, Alexa Sharpe’s art is the absolute star of the show. The spooky graveyard, the vaguely ancient town architecture, the geometry of clocks and astronomical charts, lines of golden light emanating from lanterns… this is the stuff that makes for a rich visual text. There are layers of meaning and detail within the illustrations that will stand up to many rereads, and the movement and expression in the characters’ faces and bodies lends it a cinematic feel as well. Much of the palette is as it appears on the book cover – blues and greens, edging into yellow with splashes of light and violets and indigos in the shadows. The town is an exception, with the local inn’s interior depicted in warm, rusty firelight tones. All of this art is the medium for a story that will engage, entertain, and invite the reader into further escapades with Maddy and crew. 

 

In all, The Night Mother, Vol. 1 is a splendid start to an excellent adventure that spans space. Its spooky notes are balanced with non-stop action, sympathetic characters, and eccentric choices, and make for a delightful (and quick!) read.

 

Recommended for: readers ages 8 and up, and especially any who like Disney classic animated films.

2024 book gift guide

As in past years (2021, 2022), I present to you a book gift guide. This is more a record of the books I’m gifting in the 2024 holiday season than anything else, but if you still need a few presents and have a bookstore nearby, I heartily recommend each and every title herein. Not all books are new this year – I’ve added the year of publication in parentheses if this matters to you. And if you (or your child) are someone I give to… look away, lest you be spoiled!

Board books for babies (ages 0-2):

Look Twice by Giuliano Ferri (2022) – A tried-and-proven board book. This one has minimal text, baby-friendly page cut-outs, and art with a bit of a spray-painted look.

Picture books for littles (ages 3-5):

Cat Family Christmas: A Lift-the-Flap Advent Book by Lucy Brownridge, illustrated by Eunyoung Soo (2022) – I love an advent calendar, and lift-the-flap books are reliably popular with little ones. Also, a cat family at Christmas?! Automatic win.

Tis the Season: A Lift-the-Flap Advent Calendar Full of Christmas Poems illustrated by Richard Jones (2024) – I already had my eye on advent books, so when this one came across my feed this year I put it on my shopping list. Love the art style, and with festive poems, it’s bound to be a perennial favorite!

A Flash of Color and Light: A Biography of Dave Chihuly by Sharon Mentyka, illustrated by Shelley Couvillion (2024) – This title “is a celebration of color, light, glass, and Dale Chihuly’s enormous contribution to the field of glassmaking and art.”

We Are Definitely Human by X. Fang (2024) – This funny, clever, and gorgeously-illustrated picture book is one of my favorites this year. It celebrates the kindness of humans, too, which is a great message for any season.

Books for early readers (ages 6-7):

Little Shrew by Akiko Miyakoshi, translated by Kids Can Press (2024) – This “slice of life story is understated, beautiful, and delightfully charming. It’s going in every holiday stocking this winter!” DELIGHTFUL.

Mayor Good Boy by Dave Scheidt and Miranda Harmon (2021) – I haven’t read this one myself, but this first in a graphic novel series comes HIGHLY recommended by one of my niblings (yes, I have gifted this one before!!). 

Science Comics: Crows by Kyla Vanderklugt (2020) – A good choice for the reader who likes nonfiction, this title is a highly-rated entry in the Science Comics series. Can’t wait to be bombarded with crow facts. :)

Slightly older elementary school kids (ages 8-12):

Forces of Destiny by Elsa Charretier, Jody Houser, Delilah S. Dawson, Beth Revis, Devin Grayson, and Pierrick Colin, illustrated by Arianna Florean, Eva Widermann, Valentina Pinto, and Nicoletta Baldari (2018) – I’ve been hanging onto this book until the recipient was the right age! It’s a slim graphic novel volume on Star Wars’ heroines, and I’m sure it’ll thrill this kiddo.

Squire & Knight by Scott Chantler (2023) – For a young reader who appreciates a strong dose of humor and chivalry in their reading.

The Night Mother Vol. 1 by Jeremy Lambert, illustrated by Alexa Sharpe (2024) – A full-color, gorgeously-illustrated series-starter of a graphic novel volume that brings together: clocks, a girl who can hear the dead, and a ripping adventure story.

Grace Needs Space! by Benjamin A. Wilgus, illustrated by Rii Abrego (2023) – I read this graphic novel right before wrapping it up, and it’s so adorable I could just squish it. Abrego’s (of The Sprite and the Gardener fame) illustrations are incredible – Grace’s eyes especially are something special, and evoke lots of authentic pre-teen emotion.

Tiffany’s Griffon by Magnolia Porter Siddell, illustrated by Maddi Gonzalez (2024) – A fantastical middle grade graphic novel about a girl who desperately wants to be the star of a story, but ends up as the sidekick. 

A Place to Hang the Moon by Kate Albus (2021) – The only non-graphic novel for this category, this middle grade historical fiction set in Britain during WWII has Narnia and found-family vibes.

Graphic novels for the teen crowd (ages 13-18):

Mythmakers: The Remarkable Fellowship of C.S. Lewis & J.R.R. Tolkien by John Hendrix (2024) – Speaking of Narnia, are you curious about author C.S. Lewis and his famous fantasy author friend Tolkien? If so, this book is perfect for you. Great for ages 13+ – it also has strong adult crossover appeal.

Young Hag and the Witches’ Quest by Isabel Greenberg (2024) – Know any teens into witchy tales, folklore, and/or Arthurian myths? This retelling is appropriately gruesome, and has the potential to engage both reluctant and enthusiastic readers alike. 

For adults:

The Jinn-Bot of Shanti-Port by Samit Basu (2023) – I saw this one pitched as having Murderbot and mystery vibes. I need to get a copy for myself, too!

Toward Eternity by Anton Hur (2024) – Hur is the translator of several well-regarded books, and this is their sci-fi debut with notes on AI and climate. 

The Serviceberry: Abundance and Reciprocity in the Natural World by Robin Wall Kimmerer, illustrations by John Burgoyne (2024) – The author of Braiding Sweetgrass is back with a short book on natural reciprocity. 

The Ministry of Time by Kaliane Bradley (2024) – From my review at Orange Blossom Ordinary, this story about a time-traveling, doomed Arctic explorer “is hugely entertaining and thoughtful, then casually devastating, and ends on a note of hopeful ambiguity – a most enjoyable science fiction reading experience.”

The Full Moon Coffee Shop by Mai Mochizuki, translated by Jesse Kirkwood (2024) – On the full moon, a mysterious coffee shop appears, staffed by cats who solve problems by serving patrons delicious food! What’s not to love?

Butter by Asako Yuzuki, translated by Polly Barton (2024) – Billed as a killer mystery for foodies, and an international bestseller at that!

Not books, but gifts you can find in a bookstore (links to Barnes & Noble):

Elephant & Piggie socks – For your friend who wants cozy feet with bookish style.

2025 Art Page-A-Day Gallery Calendar – Art, every day of the year!

What books are you gifting this year?

sunhead

I went to the bookstore over the summer to pick up a newly-released graphic novel that the internet promised they had in stock. Unfortunately they couldn’t find it once I got there. While the unfruitful search was taking place, I picked Alex Assan's young adult graphic novel Sunhead off the shelves and decided to give it a try. This volume is a quick read at 250 pages and its story will resonate with the younger end of the young adult demographic (13-to-15-year-olds). With a focus on visual storytelling over dialogue, it will appeal even to those who are not confident in their reading abilities.

Rotem is a Sunhead, a fan of the international smash hit Sunrise series of books and films. She’s obsessed with the story’s love interest, Edmund, and no one else gets it. But all that changes when she befriends Ayala, a shy classmate and avid book lover who’s as swept away by the romance as she is. The two become fast friends, but as their deep connection grows stronger, Rotem starts to wonder: What exactly draws her to this story?

Alex Assan’s debut, Sunhead, is an earnest coming-of-age graphic novel that explores how the stories we love help us understand our friendships, our relationships, and ourselves.

 

Rotem is a Sunhead, a rabid fan of the fictional Sunrise series of books, about a vampire named Edmund who goes to high school and falls in love with a human girl named Zoe. If you are thinking to yourself… that sounds familiar… You are right. Sunhead in this instance = Twihard (fan of the Twilight books). The parallels are there in the imagery, storylines, etc. In any case, Rotem is obsessed, and no one else around her understands. When she convinces schoolmate Ayala to read the book, Rotem suddenly has a partner in obsession. Sunhead is a slice-of-life comic where a book and its main character act as catalysts for Rotem’s changing sense of self.

In Sunhead, author-illustrator Assan beautifully captures the awkwardness of hormones, the relief and joy of escapism in imagining that you are somewhere else or someone else, and the agony of having romantic feelings for someone for the first time. The story is told from Rotem’s perspective, and she is the only fully realized character in the book. Much of the story is taken up with her reactions to conflict, musings on Sunrise, and self-isolation. Rotem doesn’t have a clear idea of who she is yet, but her first experience with making a friend (Ayala) based on her niche interests leads to intense conversations, longing glances, and acting impulsively on new feelings and then running away. In other words, it is awkward and an accurate encapsulation of the teenage experience.

 

A note on the setting: I did not realize before diving into the book that Rotem was an Israeli teenager, nor that the book was set in Tel Aviv – this information is not included anywhere in the book blurb. After reading Sunhead, I can see why: the setting plays such a minor part that it could really be set almost anywhere. The only clues seemed to be comments that Rotem made about waiting for Hebrew translations of the Sunrise books and subtitles for the Sunrise film. The time period also seems to be the early 2000s – with computers but without ubiquitous cell phones. The Tel-Aviv depicted in Sunhead is bloodless and featureless, and that feels problematic in our current timeline. Author Assan is visibly pro-Palestine on social media, and talks openly about gay Israeli community, but these do not come through in the book. I can understand why, because Sunhead is all about Rotem’s coming of age and internality, and her perspective is limited and immature, but it does feel like a disservice to the place, its people, and its history.

 

Let’s talk art! Assan used digital tools to create Sunhead, but the soft lines are reminiscent of either charcoal or brushwork, and the subtlety in shading and coloring of watercolor. Assan uses traditional rectangular panels throughout except for the daydream Sunrise sequences, which are more freeform and loose, and set apart from the rest of the text in tones of pink and red. The art overall is colored in a visually appealing and warm palette of yellows, reds and browns. Assan’s storytelling relies heavily on facial expressions and closeups of body language. So much so that there is a 45-page-long section of wordless text towards the end of the book. I understand the effect the artist was hoping to achieve, but so many pages without text make it easy to flip through quickly, without paying attention to details, and as such may lose the poignancy the author is trying to convey.

In all, Sunhead is a quick read with a slightly unfinished feel. It focuses on Rotem’s joy and angst in falling deeply in love with a book, and how the important stories from our teen years can change us forever.

Recommended for: young teens (think ages 13+) of all reading levels, anyone who has ever fallen deeply into obsession with a book, and fans of queer coming-of-age and slice-of-life stories.

dear sister

I’m somehow on the side of TikTok (yes I am over there, but only as a lurker) where couples consisting of one partner who had siblings and another who was an only child tell horror stories. The sibling stories alway make me laugh, because no matter how outlandish or annoying the antics seem, I think to myself “yes, that tracks.” I’m the oldest of five, and being an older sister will NEVER not be part of my identity. Author Alison McGhee and illustrator Joe Bluhm's middle grade graphic novel Dear Sister is a sweet, middle-school-type tale of a new big brother’s relationship with his baby sister, told through his notes and drawings to and about her. And let me tell you, this book is packed with emotion and hilarity.

What do you do when you have an incredibly annoying little sister? Write her letters telling her so, of course! From New York Times bestselling author Alison McGhee comes a wickedly funny, illustrated, heartwarming, and searingly honest collection of letters from an older brother to his little sister.

Whininess, annoyingness, afraid of the darkness, refusal to eat lima beans, and pulling brother’s hair. These are the criteria on which little sisters are graded. Inspired by the notes Alison McGhee’s own kids would write each other, this heavily illustrated collection of letters and messages from an older brother to his little sister reveal the special love—or, at the very least, tolerance—siblings have for each other.

 

Sister arrives when the narrator is eight-years-old, and the book unfolds as a series of notes and drawings both to, and eventually back, from sister. As they age, both siblings’ drawings and penmanship grow in sophistication, and there are occasional spreads where the whole family is depicted as well. Brother provides progress reports on items like whininess, annoyingness, being afraid of the dark, and the unfairness of being forced to eat lima beans. Meanwhile their parents are the wardens, who punish him when he is unkind to Sister. Over the course of the book, annoyance slowly changes to grudging fondness, and eventually to brotherly love (but still with annoyance mixed in because no one is perfect!). 

McGhee’s narrative succeeds because it feels so authentic. Brother is typical in some ways, leaving messages like “Leave me alone” and “I don’t want to talk about it,” but these messages are mixed in with genuine worry when his little sister gets appendicitis. The ending is moving – maybe what you’d expect or maybe not – and the book ends when Brother goes off to college. Themes throughout are adjusting to a growing family, and learning how to be a good big brother, coming of age, and how friendship changes over the course of life no matter what. 

Bluhm’s art is mixed media, with most of the notes that make up the majority of the text in pencil or pen. As mentioned above, the illustrations and penmanship become more complex (and hilarious) as Brother grows older. The palette of blues and blacks pop against a white background, and Bluhm does a great job of letting the letters and notes themselves take center stage, and using illustrations for comic effect and to add to the overall meaning. It really feels as if you get a view into their life, but that the epistolary nature of the text still takes center stage.

In all, Dear Sister is a poignant, true-to-life illustrated take on becoming an older sibling and all that entails. Its portrayal of the funny, honest, and you’re-annoying-but-i-love-you realness of sibling relationships (without the rivalry aspect) is spot on.

Recommended for: readers ages 7+ (especially those with siblings of their own), aspiring artists, and fans of epistolary storytelling.