Greta will be released on September 10, 2024.

The world around Greta is changing far too quickly for her to keep up. Between an upcoming move, entering middle school, and her longtime best friend, Lotti, getting distracted by boys, Greta feels left behind by the fierce, never-ending changes around her that she doesn’t feel part of. When a boy finally takes notice of her, she thinks maybe this is her chance to become part of this incomprehensible new world. But instead, she’s left shattered, scared, and even more lost than before.

As she struggles to put words to what’s happened to her, even to Lotti, Greta starts to change, in ways utterly different than everyone around her. But while her newfound differences are looked at askance by those around her, for Greta, they’re a way to become herself at last: to find beauty, and freedom, with a kind of change that finally feels right.

If you like straightforward, predictable stories with familiar characters and beats to provide escapism and a quick laugh, Greta is absolutely not something you’ll want to read. But if you’re more like me—someone who enjoys deep, thoughtful, and fundamentally unexpected stories—I highly recommend this book.

I finished this book a week ago now, and I’m not exaggerating when I say I’ve thought about Greta every day during that time period. I’ve read hundreds, maybe thousands, of middle-grade books, and I can think of few others that possess the same combination of incredible oddity and incredible humanity.

It took me several chapters to get into the story, as the uncanny, almost surreal aspects of it only begin appearing once Greta’s normal life is established. However, I was so interested in the premise that I didn’t even consider stopping reading, and it definitely lived up to that. The whole story has a dreamlike quality overlayed on a fundamentally realistic portrayal of middle school which gave it a truly unique atmosphere, and I particularly loved how the characters, including Greta, responded to the changes in her life.

Greta is the rare book that truly leaves you with more questions and answers, and yet imparts such a fundamental sense of peace and well-being that you can’t help but feel satisfied after finishing it. I highly recommend Greta to readers ages eleven and up, particularly those who enjoy unique and thought-provoking stories.

​An e-ARC of this book was provided through NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.

By Nico

The Last Ice Phoenix is the second book in the ongoing Heroes of Havensong series by Megan Reyes, which began with Dragonboy.

After a face-off with Chancellor Cudek that nearly destroyed the Meraki’s island, the four friends heralded as the Heroes of Havensong should be ready to face whatever comes next. Instead, with Blue stuck in a deep slumber, Wren on the verge of exile, River dreaming of her lost home, and Shenli struggling to come to terms with his new life, the four are more fractured than ever.

But Chancelor Cudek isn’t interested in giving them time to regroup, and events have already been set in motion. Back on the mainland under Cudek’s thumb, Shenli must grapple with his own history—and his priorities—to choose a path that will alter the course of the future. After exile by the Meraki elders, Wren finds herself among strangers whose secrets might be the key to unlocking Cudek’s weakness. And when an unexpected sickness sweeps across Meraki Island, Blue and River must seek out the last ice phoenix to provide a crucial piece of the remedy—even if neither is quite sure that they’re heroes after all.

There’s nothing I love more than a fabulous sequel that lives up entirely to the expectations set by the first book. The Last Ice Phoenix does this exactly. Although it took me a bit to dig into this story, probably because it’s been close to a year since I read the first book, before long I truly couldn’t put it down. A fast-paced plot, fascinating worldbuilding, and great characters have made this series one I’ll keep highly recommending, especially to fans of series like Wilderlore or Septimus Heap.

It’s often hard to get to know all the characters when a book is told from multiple points of view, but especially in this book I felt like I was able to connect with Blue, Wren, River and Shenli all so deeply. I particularly love how the characters—particularly Shenli—have some of the most developed and thoughtful character arcs I’ve read in this genre lately. Although this book often stepped into more intense territory, placing it solidly in upper middle-grade, I felt that it was essential to turning what easily could’ve been a predictable story into one with so many unique twists and characters that I can’t believe I’ll have to wait another year for book 3! I highly recommend the Heroes of Havensong series to readers ages eleven and up. 

The Ghostkeeper will be released on July 23, 2024.

Ever since Dorian Leith very nearly died—and gained the unexpected ability to see ghosts as a result—he’s dedicated himself to helping ghosts find peace and enter the afterlife. Sure, his job doesn’t make him very popular, particularly since most people would rather pay ghastly exorcists to destroy household ghosts than a ghost therapist to help their hauntings work through their problems, but every time Dorian teaches a ghost new coping skills or helps another client move on into the afterlife, it brings him such satisfaction that he can’t imagine doing anything else.

That is, until the key to Death’s Door vanishes—and the town is suddenly plagued by an influx of angry ghosts who can’t find their way into the afterlife, no matter how many times Dorian helps them reframe their struggles. Dorian knows he’s the only one who’s able to help the ghosts, not to mention the only one who cares. But finding the key means risking the first true relationship with a living human he’s had in years—and any sense of self he has beyond the ghosts he cares for.

​I did not expect to love a graphic novel about a queer ghost therapist to be this awesome and endearing, but The Ghostkeeper seemed determined to exceed my expectations from the first page. To begin with, I loved the art style, and in particular how the ghosts were portrayed; the blue-tinged characters and in particular the clearly different speech bubbles helped keep the story clear and moving at a fast pace, and made the dialogue easier to follow than most other graphic novels I've read. The use of color schemes and panel shapes created a fabulous sense of atmosphere, and worked together with the quirky characters and fast-paced plot to create a story I couldn't put down.

But I'd be remiss if I didn't mention one of my favorite aspects of the story - Dorian himself. I connected with him so deeply - his internal struggles, his determination to help ghosts, his self-sacrificing propensity, his insecurity, and the depth of his friendships. The ghost therapist concept is brilliant to begin with, but The Ghostkeeper brings it alive, and the incredibly realistic (but also hilarious) strategies that Dorian uses to counsel the ghosts grounded the premise and made it utterly believable. I was particularly drawn to the way Dorian struggles to separate what he needs from what the ghosts need, a thread of realism that helped wholeheartedly sell me on the entire story.

I highly recommend The Ghostkeeper to readers ages eleven and up, particularly those who enjoy gorgeously illustrated graphic novels, brilliant characters, and a touch of ghostly horror.

An e-ARC of this book was provided through NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.

The Baker and the Bard comes out on March 5, 2024.

Juniper loves baking. Hadley dreams of becoming a famous bard. And when an unusual order comes into the bakery where Juniper works—an order that requires the collection of rare mushrooms from deep in the woods—the two best friends immediately volunteer. After all, as Hadley points out, how will they ever be a famous bard if they never experience a little adventure?

On their way, though, Juniper and Hadley discover that a nearby village has had its crops destroyed by a mysterious creature…and before they know it, they’re caught up in solving this mystery. And, maybe, they’ll even make some new friends along the way.

Sweet, thoughtful, and beautiful, The Baker and the Bard was comforting in a way I didn’t even know I needed. Although relatively short, I felt like I deeply connected with Juniper, Hadley, and this entire world—a fantasy world with a feeling of such normalcy that I immediately was sucked into it. The characters were truly lovely; in particular, Juniper and Hadley’s interactions felt so realistic, and their friendship consistently made me smile. I also loved the queer/nonbinary characters, whose acceptance in this world fit so well and made me think of A Psalm for the Wild-Built.

​The illustrations were bright and fun, and helped make this book a quick read while moving at a relaxing, leisurely pace. I particularly loved the frequent full-page illustrations, which contributed such a sense of place and atmosphere to the story. Although often relatively simple, they were perfectly expressive, and the primarily pastel color palette helped maintain the quiet, open mood of the story. If you love graphic novels or just feel-good reads, I highly recommend The Baker and the Bard to readers ages eleven and up!

An e-ARC of this book was provided through NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.

By Nico

Note: Sir Callie and the Dragon’s Roost is the second book in the ongoing Sir Callie series. It is preceded by Sir Callie and the Champions of Helston. Look out - there are spoilers for the first book below! 

Callie should be happy. They and their friends ousted Helston’s evil chancellor, showing everyone that there are other ways of being than Helston’s antiquated traditions. Boys are allowed to use magic now. girls can become knights. Isn’t Callie living their dream?

The problem is, not everyone is ready for the sweeping changes Callie would like to see. And when the burgeoning dissent makes Helston too dangerous, Callie and their friends are forced to flee. Even if it means exposing themselves to the Witch of Dumoor, the source of so much of Helston’s prejudice.

But now that Callie is questioning whether Helston can ever become the safe haven they once dreamed of, it’s hard not to question everything. And that means the beliefs Callie has had their entire life about the very nature of good and evil.

I absolutely loved the first book in this series, Sir Callie and the Champions of Helston, so when the sequel came out, I knew I had to read it immediately! It didn’t disappoint. I can’t think of another middle-grade book, and certainly not another middle-grade fantasy book, that balances hope, trauma, and healing in a way so authentic, and so incredibly affirming. With a sharp, insightful look at well-meaning adults, making change, and the challenges of recovering from your past, Esme Symes-Smith manages to make this book not only be as good as the first one, but even better. Already familiar with Callie, Willow, Edwyn, and Elowen at the start of this book, it was incredibly beautiful watching them grow and change, and there were so many times over the course of this book that I audibly cheered on the heroes or booed the villains that I can’t think of a better way to describe my practically incalculable emotional attachment to these characters, and this series. Perhaps the best part of this series is that there isn’t just one character trying to heal, which means that rather than narrating only a single path to learning to live with who you are, Sir Callie gives us many, a gorgeous and incredibly meaningful combination of whose tenacity and hope gave me no choice but to read this entire story as quickly as possible. I quite literally cannot wait for the third book in the series! I highly recommend Sir Callie and the Dragon’s Roost to readers ages eleven and up looking for everything from a fun fantasy adventure to a book to help them heal. 

By Nico

There are countless stories about the del Cisne family, about sisters who grow up into swans. Blanca and Roja del Cisne know every one. And though the verity of each individual tale is nothing if not debatable, that hardly matters, because the sisters have been raised on the truth behind ever story: the knowledge that, every generation, two del Cisne girls are born. And before the youngest reaches adulthood, one of them will be transformed into a wild swan.

Soon, Blanca or Roja will leave her human sister behind and take, unwilling, to the skies. And there is no way of knowing which one of them it will be.

Blanca: pale-haired, kindhearted, who always smiles and helps others, a perfect fairy-tale princess.

Or Roja, her sister. Red hair to Blanca’s blonde, mistakes and manipulativeness to Blanca’s perfect smiles. The perfect, fairy-tale witch. The perfect swan—the one no one but their father will miss.

Despite their differences, their bond is unshakable, and Blanca and Roja are determined that neither of them will fly away on a swan’s white wings. But when the swans come despite all their efforts and two local boys are tangled in the magic of the wood, Blanca and Roja must find their own ways to outwit the magic that would tear them apart forever.

​A stunning, atmospheric ode to sisterhood, Blanca & Roja is one of the most exquisite fairytale reimaginings I’ve read in a long time. McLemore (whose also wrote the equally amazing novels Lakelore and When the Moon Was Ours) weaves together ‘Snow White and Rose Red’ and ‘The Wild Swans’ into something utterly unlike either of them, a truly original fairytale with such depth and complexity that I couldn’t help but fall in love with it. Their writing is utterly beautiful, lyrical and poetic, and it pulled me completely into a world full of strange magic and unexpected twists. The conflicts and relationships between the four primary point-of-view characters were phenomenal, particularly Blanca and Roja—the distinct and incredibly realistic mix of love and secrets between them truly made both of their characters come alive. I highly recommend Blanca & Roja to readers ages eleven and up, particularly those who love books with elements of fairytales. 

By Nico

Morgan knows she can’t be herself on the tiny island where she’s grown up. Here, she’s straightforward, unremark-able, good at blending in, a persona much easier to stomach than the truth that no one—not her struggling mom, not her cluster of friends—knows: Morgan likes girls.

She’s determined to get through high school and escape as soon as possible to somewhere she can be herself. But all that changes when Keltie slips out of the sea and saves Morgan’s life. Keltie—who, with her odd, bright-colored clothes, disregard for social convention, and unconventional secret—is the worst thing possible for Morgan’s attempt at normalcy. Particularly when she begins to fall in love…

​The Girl from the Sea was the summery, small-town, queer graphic novel I didn’t know I needed! With beautiful, atmospheric artwork and a contemporary twist on the classic selkie story, I couldn’t help but be pulled into this book. I really loved the characters—Morgan is one of the absolutely most relatable characters I’ve read recently, and Keltie her perfect foil, with so much spark and personality that I couldn’t help but fall in love with her alongside Morgan. The entire story was sweet and vivid, and extraordinarily realistic, despite (or because of) the magical elements; Morgan’s family in particular felt completely authentic, with the right mix of conflict and love and individual character to bring it truly to life. Whimsical and full of magic, I highly recommend The Girl from the Sea to readers ages eleven and up. 

By Ella

Callie has always known that they’re going to be a knight, just like their papa, who was once one of the most accomplished defenders of the land. The problem is, the whole world seems to think that Callie should learn magic like the girl they’ve never been, and that only boys should learn to fight with swords.

That’s ridiculous, of course—and luckily, Callie’s dads know that as well as they do. Still, although Callie has found a home where they’re accepted for who they are, they’ve always dreamed of going to Helston, the country’s capital, where young hopefuls train to become knights, and where their papa once fought at the king’s side. So when their papa is summoned to Helston to help train the prince, Callie leaps at the chance to visit and find their place.

It turns out, though, that not everyone else is so pleased with the prospect of Callie becoming a knight—particularly the chancellor who runs the city, who insists that Callie learn to use their much-hated magic and stay away with the women instead of becoming the knight they’ve always known they’re supposed to be. All their life, Callie's thought that Helston would be a fairytale, but it turns out it's full of bigots and discrimination. And when Callie stands up for themself, it doesn't go well. 

No one else seems to be struggling to cram themselves into Helston's strict roles, but Callie soon discovers that’s not the case—they meet Willow, a crown prince who’s never wanted to be a warrior; Elowen, the chancellor’s fierce and capable daughter; and Edwyn, her brother, who more than anything wants to fit the mold his father has set for him. Helston’s rigid society is just hurting everyone, and Callie already got enough of that kind of manipulation when they were younger. Together, it’s up to Callie and their new friends to stand up against a society that hates them—or else be forced to become the people they’ve never wanted to be.

I absolutely loved Sir Callie and the Champions of Helston. At once a fun fantasy adventure, an unflinching story about hatred and prejudice, and a brilliant, affirming reflection of everyone’s uniqueness in the face of an inflexible society, this is definitely one of my favorites of 2023 so far. Esme Symes-Smith draws from many familiar tropes but makes them fully their own, creating an utterly amazing setting that feels more complete and well-rounded than any I can recently remember. Helston perfectly reflects the beauty and deep-rooted imperfections that coexist in our world, too, which helped to make it heartbreaking and vivid in equal measure.

However, that said, the characters were definitely my favorite part of Sir Callie. Callie, of course, was a favorite—their bravery, determination, and sheer stubbornness made me fall in love with them immediately, and I’m so glad there will be more books in the series for me to get to know them better! But every single character in this book were spectacular and nuanced, particularly Willow and Edwyn, whose struggles, though very different, are each so full of realism and power that I couldn’t help but root for them through all the stories twists and turns. A special shout-out has to go to the chancellor, not because I liked him, but because I hated him with such a burning passion—it’s a rare villain who I truly despise, but he went above and beyond in this particular department.

Although Sir Callie was sometimes hard to read—where many books, especially middle-grade fantasy, will skirt around painful topics, this one does the reverse—this was one of my favorite parts about it. Esme Symes-Smith’s willingness to face even incredibly difficult topics head-on was part of why I connected so deeply with Callie and their story; they perfectly encapsulate incredible messiness of reckoning and healing.

​I highly recommend Sir Callie and the Champions of Helston to readers ages eleven and up—if you’ve ever wanted to read a queer mash-up of a Tamora Pierce book, this one’s for you! 

By Ella

Frances, a young seamstress in Paris, is sure she’s about to lose her job. She’s long dreamed of crafting unconven-tional, spectacular gowns, but without the credits or accomplishments she needs to be taken seriously, her inadvis-able foray into more creative designs has just made her traditionalist employer furious. But instead of ruining her career, Frances’s work attracts the attention of a wealthy customer who offers her a new position—one where her creativity isn’t hemmed in by someone else’s notions of what shouldn’t be done. To her surprise, the customer is the crown prince, Sebastian.

Sebastian has always loved dresses, and now more than ever—with his parents pushing him to find the perfect princess to marry—he needs to escape the palace to find people who see him for who he really is. When he glimpses Frances’s flamboyant handiwork, he knows immediately he wants to hire her himself—and when she agrees, it seems like a dream come true for both of them.

For the first time, Frances is able to make whatever dresses she likes. And while Sebastian still has to play the perfect prince during the day, courting princesses and pleasing his parents, at night he and Frances slip into the city and he becomes Lady Crystallia, wealthy and unconventional, whose dress sense is admired and whose true identity is a carefully kept secret.

But how long can this secret be kept? And if Frances remains a secret’s dressmaker, can she ever become the famous seamstress of her dreams? 
​
I absolutely loved The Prince and the Dressmaker. The stunning, atmospheric illustrations drew me immediately into Frances’s story; the tale flew by far quicker than I wanted it to! There was so much beauty to this story, both in the pictures and the plot itself; Frances’s quirky determination and Sebastian’s lonely hope sprang to life with vividness and sensitivity, blending together into a lovely, whimsical tale full of friendship and realism that feels as genuine as it does lovable. I particularly loved Sebastian’s understanding of his identity, which is fluid and natural instead of feeling predetermined or contrived. I highly recommend The Prince and the Dressmaker to anyone who loves queer graphic novels, particularly those with happy endings.
 
Note: I first picked up The Prince and the Dressmaker because of FalconX’s awesome review of it several years ago—you can read it here! 

By Ella

Rhaskos. A Thracian slave, worth far less than the animals he cares for. Separated from his mother, forced to serve a master who curses him and beats him. He draws horses in the dirt, and dreams of freedom.

Melisto. She caused her mother no end of trouble as a baby. She has never stopped. The future looks as bleak to her as a stretch of flawless fabric: what everyone expects, and so easily ignored. Serving Artemis as a Little Bear might be the first and last chance, however temporary, for her to be herself.

Against the backdrop of ancient Greece, told in poetry and prose and in fragments of the past, this is the tale of a boy and a girl whose futures are dark to them—and who might, through the impossible friendship they form, at last find the peace they have both been searching for.

Amber & Clay is unique and utterly absorbing, blending historical fiction, magic, and archaeology into something almost improbably powerful and beautiful. I’ve read a handful of books which use both prose and poetry, and honestly none of them have pulled it off very well; there always feels as though there is an abrupt shift when transitioning from one to another. But Schlitz’s prose is so lyrical and deliberate that the story flowed seamlessly from one style to another, and brought the book together more fully and made it feel more concrete rather than splintering it into sections. Not only that, but this ranks among one of the most excellent historical novels I have read (it’s set in Greece, particularly the Athens area, around the fifth century BCE)—not just for how it feels as though it stays utterly true to the time period, but because the feelings and conflicts and dreams of Rhaskos and Melisto are so bright and evocative in my mind that they might be living next door, not twenty-six centuries ago.

To be honest, of all the books I’ve reviewed, Amber & Clay is one of the hardest to describe. Its scope feels enormous, and yet deeply personal; its struggles, concrete and yet ephemeral. So much happens, but it isn’t the tale of the vast shifts of war and politics occurring in the background. It isn’t even a grandiose interpretation of what it must’ve been like, growing up without any chance at having rights. Instead of seeking to change the world, Rhaskos and Melisto both simply seek to live with it: to live in a society which they see not as unjust and discriminatory as we do now, but simply as how the world is. This crucial and too-unique nuance lends the story a vibrant realism which it might otherwise lack, and helps every detail of the story, its characters, and its setting shine with power and truth. Amber & Clay is, quite simply, extraordinary—I highly recommend it to readers ages eleven and up.

By Lina

​When thirteen-year-old Ava is surfing with her best friend Phoenix, nothing else matters. She can forget it all---her mother making her volunteer at the hospital she works at to gain experience in a career she doesn't want, the bullies at the beach who think a teenage Persian American doesn't belong on their shore, her father's mailed birthday present coming unsurprisingly late again, the nagging, neverending feeling that she doesn't belong. It all fades away, replaced by sparkling waves and the one person who makes her feel at home, who she can count on to trade mixtapes and surfing tips with, and who encourages her love of singing. Laughing with her friends on the beach, singing, Rumi's poems--they remind her that she, too, has a place in this world. 

When Phoenix's lymphoma resurfaces, Ava must draw on every bit of resilience and hope within her to help him fight for survival. It feels like everything is falling apart--but as she and Phoenix have always reminded each other, surfboards ready, poised for the next wave: if you don't take the drop, you miss the ride. 

Eloquent, heart-wrenching, and tender, Wave is a standout for several reasons. Firstly, Ava is a believable, multilayered protagonist; despite differing ages, decades, and interests, her insecurities and victories ring piercingly true to me as she grapples with the tension between her own vision for her life and future and those which others push her toward. The characters are deftly drawn and distinct, and the relationships between them truly make Wave shine; the connection Ava develops with an elderly, poetry-loving patient is particularly touching, while her bond with Phoenix centers and grounds the story---just as it does Ava herself. I've never surfed (personally, I think it sounds terrifying!), but Farid's exquisite free verse turns the ocean into a friend, a sparkling world so beautiful that I found myself rereading passages again and again, and feeling the sea to be a home, just as it is to Ava. And the story's moving, lyrical exploration of grief and healing mark it as a modern Bridge to Terabithia, one perfect for book groups and discussions. In a word: gorgeous. I would highly recommend Wave to readers ages eleven and up.

By Lina

“…all I want/is to stretch my wings/to ride the fickle currents/beyond the reach of any cage.” 
- Melanie Crowder, Audacity 

Clara Lemlich has never been free. Not free to read the books she hides from her father and studies late into the night, gathering scraps of knowledge when no one is watching. Not free to live as a full citizen of the Russian Empire, instead forced to live in poverty in the Pale of Settlement, which Jewish people are restricted to at the turn of the twentieth century. Not free to dream of a life where she is not forbidden from the beauty of written words, and where she could save lives as a doctor. 

When antisemitic violence forces her family to flee to America, the grueling journey brings them to New York City’s Lower East Side, a land of angular buildings and filthy tenements, and Clara is once again trapped by poverty and the duties of a good daughter, who must provide for her family as they struggle to survive. Where immigrant girls work quietly, meekly, in rows upon rows of factories, not protesting the exploitation they face because they know how easily they can be replaced, and because every penny counts. Where her dreams no longer seem quite so impossible. 

Clara bristles at the injustices the other factory workers seem to take in stride, and soon becomes involved in the developing labor movement in the area–but she quickly learns that protesting will put her dreams of an education in jeopardy. Should she ignore injustice in favor of a hard-won opportunity for education? Or should she give up her beloved ambitions to fight for a cause that has already grown close to her heart? 

I loved Audacity the first time I read it, and after a recent re-read, it remains one of my favorites. Its stunning, lyrical prose ranks it among one of the most beautifully written free-verse books I've read yet; while the writing is remarkably spare, the imagery and historical detail are evocative and absorbing.  Clara’s courage, kindness, and unflagging determination make her immensely sympathetic, and it’s a joy to watch her develop over the course of the story, as the young girl who splinted birds’ wings and hid from anti-Jewish mobs becomes an infamous labor leader whose concern for her fellow workers and immigrants is matched only by her fiery determination for action–now. I also appreciated how Audacity thoughtfully explores the risks and sacrifices activists must make, as Clara struggles to balance her family’s needs, the injustices she longs to combat, and real danger to herself and her fellow factory workers if they step out of line. 

I had never heard of Clara Lemlich, a real-life labor organizer, before reading this book, and I’ve since researched more about her–she’s a fascinating person, and I highly recommend learning more about her. (The historical notes and interviews with some of her family members at the end of the book are a great place to start!) While fictionalized, Audacity remains true to the essence of Clara’s work and early life. Eloquent and inspiring, I would highly recommend Audacity to readers ages eleven and up, especially for book groups or discussions. 

By Piranha T.

In a futuristic version of Earth, water has become an enemy. After the Melting, the world was swallowed by oceans, destroying towns and cities, humans and animals. Even rainwater is no longer fit to drink. There is nothing left but Ark.

Ark, the city John Noa built out of nothing when waves overcame the land.

Ark, where grim-faced gavvers pace the streets, searching for the Desecrators who would destroy the fragile peace, where everything is rationed, even the very words people speak.

Ark, where Letta, the last wordsmith’s apprentice, writes out cards containing Ark’s language, List—a language of only five hundred words.

Letta was born in Ark after the Melting, and has always been called one of the lucky ones. She’s not quite sure if she can believe that. Long ago, her parents set out on a voyage to find other lands which had survived the Melting. They’ve never returned. Still, no matter how much she loves speaking the old tongue to the wordsmith without List’s restrictions—a language with all the now-forbidden words, like hope and dream and music—she believes John Noa will only do what is best for the people. After all, he was the one who saved them all.

But one day, a wounded boy stumbles into Letta’s home, and changes her life forever. His name is Marlo, and he is a Desecrator, but he isn’t the mindless villain she’s always believed the Desecrators to be. Instead, he’s interesting, and funny—and his explanations of Ark make much more sense than what Letta has always believed.

Then horrible news reaches Letta, and she is called upon to take up newfound power in Ark. Yet Marlo’s words make her question everything as she struggles to navigate the turmoil as the Desecrators make themselves known and dark plans begun unfolding around her. For Ark is the center of a scheme which could destroy all of humanity—and Letta must uncover dangerous secrets and choose a side before it’s too late to reverse the damage which will be done.

I don’t often read dystopian novels, but The List intrigued me, in part because of the thread of words and wordsmiths. It completely blew me away. Letta and the supporting characters are excellent and feel very real. This is an amazing, engaging, well-plotted book which I couldn’t put down. The villain was nefarious and I understood why he had to be stopped, but his reasoning, if twisted, still made a certain degree of sense, which made this book even more powerful. Overall, The List is a thought-provoking and absorbing read--I highly recommend it to readers ages eleven and up. 

By Piranha T.

Rowan writes letters and sets them free on balloons.

This way, no one he knows will be able to read the secrets he records in his balloon letters. Not his parents, who are determined for him to be the girl he knows he isn’t on the inside—and especially not his dad, who’s hurt him in even more ways than that. Not the girls who used to be his friends but abandoned him last summer, leaving him marooned alone at the beginning of fifth grade. It’s a way of coping with all the hurt and confusion and tangles in Rowan’s life.

Told in the form of these balloon letters, The Ship We Built tells the story of a year where Rowan finds friendship, struggles, and ultimately who he is.

The Ship We Built is a moving, complicated, and utterly beautiful novel. Rowan is one of the most true protagonists I’ve encountered in fiction; I can clearly imagine speaking to him, meeting him. This book is sometimes hard but more powerful for it, and it truly swept me away. I highly recommend The Ship We Built to readers ages eleven and up.

By Piranha T.

The place is Boston, in what is now called New Occident. The year is 1891.

The world has changed. Nearly a hundred years ago, an event known only as the Great Disruption cracked the world apart into many known and unknown Ages, from the distant past to the far-flung future. Old maps can no longer depict the world as it is, so new ones are made with different and mysterious materials, using what can only be seen as magic. Cartographers and explorers provide contact between places once connected in other ways, but now eschewed by the void of time.

Sophia Tims’s parents, two skilled explorers, disappeared on a voyage many years ago, so she’s been raised by her uncle Shadrack Elli, one of Boston’s most famous cartographers. She’s always wanted to eventually follow them, but never known if she can; Sophia, to her chagrin, has no internal clock, and easily loses track of minutes or hours, believing only seconds to have passed. Despite these things, her life is peaceful—until Shadrack is kidnapped, and Sophia leaves home with only a mysterious glass map to guide her.

She finds unexpected allies: Theo, a boy from a foreign age; a pair of flamboyant pirates; a botanist with little common sense. But as she is perused from age to age, she discovers the true motives of her enemies—and the secrets of the map she carries, secrets which may be much more dangerous than they seem…

Full of adventure and tension, The Glass Sentence was one of those books which I picked up with no expectations and couldn’t put down. What immediately struck me about this book was the worldbuilding, which I think would appeal to fans of The Golden Compass and Ink, Iron and Glass. Our world, fractured by the Great Disruption, made this an even more interesting read, intriguing me as I learned more and more about this alternate universe. But the layers of The Glass Sentence goes far beyond its setting. The plot was brilliant and unusual, and there was more than one point where it completely surprised me. And the characters—from Sophia and Theo to the brilliantly fascinating villain—were also spectacular. Overall, I highly recommend The Glass Sentence to fantasy fans ages eleven and up.