​By Ella

The Secrets of the Stormforest is the third book in L D Lapinski's middle-grade fantasy Strangeworlds Travel Agency series. It is preceded by Strangeworlds Travel Agency and The Edge of the Ocean, both of which we also loved--we chose the series overall as one of our favorites of 2022! 

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[Look out--there are spoilers for books 1 & 2 below!]

Ever since Flick Hudson discovered the Strangeworlds Travel Agency and met Jonathan Mercator, who oversees the travel through the multiverse via portals trapped in suitcases, her life has become extraordinary. But now, as Flick begins to understand the truth about the travel agency and the dangers facing the many worlds, she discovers that not just Strangeworlds, but the entire multiverse, might be in danger. 

Now, with Jonathan and Avery by her side, Flick must race to find a suitcase with the power to destroy the multiverse--before it is used to tear apart every magical place she's ever found. 

I adored Flick and Jonathan's previous adventures, each full of quirky twists, awesome characters, and a sense of inarguable magic. The Secrets of the Stormforest's only flaw is that it's the final book in the trilogy! With everything that made books one and two so wonderful, plus unfolding secrets, impending disaster, and a series of stunning plot twists I never would have expected, there was so much to love about this story. As in the earlier books, Lapinski's characters are extraordinary; I felt so much for Flick, Jonathan, Avery, and the entire cast over the course of this book, who are made utterly relatable by their vulnerability, flaws, bravery, and connections to one another. Everything came together with beautiful, sometimes heartbreaking perfection, and threads both anticipated and unexpected from the previous books wove into a story I didn't want to end. I highly recommend the Strangeworlds Travel Agency series to anyone who loves heartwarming, exciting adventures, strong characters, and immersive worldbuilding, ages nine and up. 

By Ella
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Thea Fowler was supposed to be as ruthless as her infamous mother, Clementine, has become. In the weeks, months, after the disaster that des-troyed her home, she was supposed to learn that the only way to have power in a world ruled by men is to take it for yourself. She was supposed to be audacious and commanding and stoic. She was supposed to be as terrifying and steely as Clementine herself, who has hardened in her resolve into the most dangerous pirate on the seas.

She was supposed to be just like Clementine, just like her mother, who has turned all her old pain and fury into becoming a person who men will have no choice but to listen to.

But all Thea has learned is that she will never live up to her mother’s ex-pectations—that, to her, she will always be weak. All she’s learned is that being Thea—quiet Thea, emotional Thea—will never be enough.

It should be easy: running away with a handsome boy who says he loves her for all the reasons Clementine has berated her all her life. It should be easy, making a new path for herself, away from the swaying decks and painful expectations of her mother’s ships.

Making a new path for herself. It’s what Clementine would have done.

But Clementine’s version of strength can only bring Thea so far when she has always failed at being her mother’s daughter. And when old and new betrayals crisscross through Thea’s life—most painfully of all, her own—she must find her own way of being strong.  

I first read The Sea Knows My Name immediately after its release, and despite all my plans to the contrary, it kept me up far later than I intended, absorbed utterly in Thea’s world. But it took several months of thoughtful contemplation, and then a reread, for me to figure out how to properly write a review on it. Full of powerful, lyrical prose and realism so unshakable that it electrifies every sentence, this is one of the most stunning books I have read in years—and it took some time to decide how to write a review that would do it justice.

I utterly fell in love with this book. Robson (also the author of Girls at the Edge of the World) creates a world and a set of characters so vividly real it almost feels wrong to call this book fantasy. After all, this story is nothing like classic fantasy novels or even a typical pirate tale, full of swashbuckling triumphs, twinkling fairies, and the unmovable hand of destiny. Instead, it is nuanced, as quiet and emotional as its protagonist, and as thoughtful and powerful as Robson’s debut. Unconventional in the best possible way, this is a tale about family and stories, about the devastating expectations of a patriarchal world and the different kinds of strength it takes to live in it. Instead of falling into traditional patterns of storytelling and expectations concerning how women are treated and portrayed, The Sea Knows My Name actively stands up against them.

Thea defies and stands up to the expectations of her society without openly defying them, reminding the reader undeniably that there is more than one way to be a woman, and that being quiet or having feelings does not mean you accept or embody the expectations of a patriarchal society. Conversely, Clementine is in so many ways the classic YA fantasy heroine from the early 2010s—ruthless, determined, and feminist because she wants to set herself apart (the infamous ‘not like other girls’ trope). Thea openly defies this, contradicting the idea that one must be masculine and unemotional to be feminist, but in her own way, Clementine does not fall into the stereotype, either. They are, neither of them, wrong or stereotypical; instead, they are both strong in different ways, and Robson’s subtle yet determined way of weaving this thread and the contrast between them is utterly extraordinary.

With every plot twist and image, every line of dialogue, Robson builds a world and a story so spectacular that feeling ambivalent about this book is utterly out of the question. With vibrancy, realism, and a sometimes painful determination to tell the truth, she weaves something fulfilling out of Thea’s pain and conflict and all the patriarchy and control in the world, something that leaves the reader both empowered and deeply touched by the singular power Robson wields with this deceptively simple, lyrical novel. Raising questions about silence, freedom, love, power, strength, expectation, feminism, judgement, survival, and so much more, perhaps the starkest beauty of all in The Sea Knows My Name is its ability to weave so much together into a narrative that does not content itself with being simply ‘convincing,’ but is utterly real. We need more books with characters like Thea, and more writers as thoughtful and powerful as Robson. Devastating, beautiful, and full of deft realism, I highly recommend The Sea Knows My Name to readers ages thirteen and up.

​By Ella

It's been a long time since twelve-year-old Gabriela felt right in the world. Between not having any friends at school, their beloved single mom's depression, and Gabriela's increasing discomfort in their own body, life has just become harder lately. 

But when they meet Abbie and Héctor at the beginning of the new school year, who introduce them to the LGBTQ+ community for the first time, Gabriela begins to find the language to put to how they've always felt--and to understand who they really are. 

The One Who Loves You the Most is a warm, sweet novel that explores identity, friendship and family in a relatable, engaging way. I loved the characters of Gabriela, Abbie and Héctor--they all felt authentic and relatable, and their friendship forms the core of the story. I recommend The One Who Loves You the Most to readers ages ten and up who like realistic fiction with LGBTQ+ characters. 

By Ella

The Sunbearer Trials occur once every decade to renew the sacrifice the sun made centuries ago and keep the selfish, power-hungry Obsidian gods at bay. Ten talented semidioses are selected to compete for twin honors: the winner, to carry the sun’s light across the land; and the loser, to sacrifice themself to keep the sun shining. The winner is always the child of one of the Gold dioses, who train all their lives for the Sunbearer Trials and live far removed from the humans they protect. When Jade semidioses like Teo are chosen, they’re practically considered a shoo-in for the sacrifice. 

Teo isn’t exactly looking forward to watching the Sunbearer Trials—he sees them as yet another way for the Golds to show off their superiority. Plus, it seems all too likely that the only Gold he likes—his best friend, Niya—is going to be chosen for the Trials, and he can’t quite reassure himself that she won’t become the sacrifice. 

It’s the last thing he’s expecting when he’s chosen for the Sunbearer Trials himself. 

Now, Teo must race against privileged Golds—including his ex-best friend, Aurelio, who everyone thinks will become the next Sunbearer—for glory, fame, and simply survival. And even with his fellow competitors Niya and Xiu, another Jade, on his side, the chances of one of them becoming the sacrifice seems higher with every passing trial. 

As the trials seem determined to not go according to plan and Teo realizes that every outcome will be painful, he has to fight harder than ever for the survival of him and his friends—no matter how noble losing might be. 

I've wanted to read Cemetery Boys, Aiden Thomas's debut, since it first came out, but somehow I found myself picking up The Sunbearer Trials first--and I'm so glad I did. I absolutely loved it. From the first page, I felt utterly absorbed in the setting; although complex, it never became too complicated or confusing, instead adding atmosphere and a beautifully queernormative society that only made this book an even more amazing read. Teo is such an incredibly relatable, funny, and deep character who I truly would follow wherever the story goes next; his struggles, decisions, relationships, and determination are both believable and inescapably realistic, and he's the kind of hero I feel like I don't see often enough. This book also features one of the most distinct secondary casts I can remember reading recently--there are about half a dozen competitors (and quite a number of gods) who aren't one of the principal characters, and yet their motivations, personalities, and relationships are so extraordinarily vibrant, distinct, and well-defined that they all very well could have been. Although there are many familiar fantastical threads that run through The Sunbearer Trials, Thomas turns every one of them into something unique and distinct, and I was constantly surprised by twists and turns of the story, turning it into something I hadn't expected but couldn't help but love. I highly recommend The Sunbearer Trials to readers ages twelve and up, particularly those who love LGBTQ fantasy and strong, distinct characters.