By Piranha T.

For twelve-year-old Milo Pine, winter vacation is a time to relax. His adoptive parents run Greenglass House, a smuggler’s inn, but no one ever stays there during the winter. But then guests begin appearing at the front door, and before long, Greenglass House is full of mysterious lodgers, all of whom seem to have their own reason for being there. And none of whom seem the least bit ordinary.

A perplexing map. A potential thief. Missing belongings. As the snow piles up outside and the mysteries deepen, Milo teams up with the cook’s daughter, Meddy, to uncover the secrets of the strange guests, the stories they tell, and the one thing they all seem to have in common: Greenglass House itself.

Greenglass House was a brilliant mystery with complex characters and multilayered histories. Milo and Meddy were awesome protagonists, and the puzzles they were solving kept me turning the pages until the very end. The entire cast was exceptionally quirky and enigmatic, in a way which reminded me of Nooks and Crannies, The Mysterious Benedict Society, or The Westing Game. Additionally, this mystery was unusual because it had hints of magic while still being set in this world, a combination I only remember reading in Knightly and Son, and was extremely well-done. I would highly recommend Greenglass House to lovers of brilliant plot twists and unusual characters ages ten and up.

Note: If you like Greenglass House, Kate Milford has written several sequels and companion books, many of which I’ve read and loved! 

By Super Kitty
 
Seventh-grader Isabelle Perez and her older brother Julian love spending hours together, playing maracas or working on her wind-harnessing project for the school science fair. Sure, Julian (who has an extreme type of epilepsy) might not be able to do all the things which other kids can, but he’s still the best brother ever. When one morning Julian has an enormous seizure and is rushed to the hospital, Isabelle is afraid that he’ll never be the same.

The night that Julian comes back from the hospital, he and Isabelle are transported to Las Brisas, a magical place where Julian doesn’t have epilepsy. Every night after that, the two of them go to Las Brisas, where Julian can talk, run, swim, and more. As Isabelle gets to know him in a whole new way, she begins to truly understand his struggles at home—and his incredible hope, determination, and love for her and her parents.  

Back in the real world, Julian is slowly adjusting to his new seizure medicine, and seems more and more distant. Isabelle’s parents are struggling to figure out what’s best for him, and Isabelle wonders if things will ever go back to the way they used to be. In the midst of seemingly endless worries, Isabelle will need all of the courage which Julian gives her to find her voice—and help Julian discover his, too.

I had gotten multiple recommendations to read What the Wind Can Tell You, and I’m really glad I did. Isabelle’s journey explores what it’s like to have a disability, the struggles of growing up, and what it means to be a family. Isabelle and Julian are both strong protagonists and relatable siblings, and I loved their relationship. The story is relatively simple, yet beautifully told, and I wholeheartedly enjoyed it—it’s an excellent pick for book groups and discussions, or for any readers ages 9+ looking for an inspiring, moving, lyrical story.

By Super Kitty

Hoping,
I’m starting to think,
might be the bravest thing a person can do.
                                                                                        - Excerpt from Other Words for Home

 
Before the protests began, Jude lived with her family in Syria. She watched old American movies with her  best friend and walked on the beach with her older brother. She dreamed of being an actress like the ones in her favorite movies. That was before.

As tensions rise in Jude’s home city, she and her mother fly to America, where they move in with her aunt and uncle in Cincinnati. As Jude struggles to adjust to a new culture, language, school—a new life—she learns that America is different than it seems in the movies. Everything is big and loud and shiny, clamoring for attention. She learns that some people expect her to be a certain way before they even meet her, or seem to treat her differently when she starts wearing a headscarf. But in America she also finds friends, allies, hope for her family in Syria and a connection with those in America. She finds a place which, slowly but surely, begins to feel like home.

Every now and then I’ll randomly stumble across a book, decide to give it a try, and end up completely adoring it. Other Words for Home is definitely one of those. A combination of gorgeous free verse, multilayered plot, and a protagonist who I completely loved creates a poignant, inspiring story about finding a new home and growing up. The story never gets violent or dark, but still honestly faces the realities of being a young Middle Eastern refugee. I’ve connected with countless book characters in different ways over the years, but Jude touched me more deeply than any have in a long time. Her fears for her family and the future make her immensely relatable, but it’s her courage, dreams, and unquenchable spark which truly make her shine.

Although it’s a middle grade book, Other Words for Home can easily be enjoyed by readers of all ages—it’s also great for discussions or book groups. I would highly recommend it to readers ages 10+ looking for a story brimming with strength, courage, and hope for a better future.

By Piranha T.

When seventh grader Nora Tucker’s school announces this year’s summer homework—a contribution to a town-wide time capsule—she doubts anything worth writing about will happen. Wolf Creek may be home to a secure correctional facility, but the most interesting things which happen are cookouts and carnivals.

But when two prisoners break out of the Wolf Creek Correctional Facility, Nora’s life becomes much more tense. Suddenly, her mom doesn’t let her go outside, police are pouring into town, and her little brother has her check for inmates under his bed.

She also meets Elidee Jones, an African American girl from New York City whose brother is in the prison. And as the search continues and tension runs higher, Nora begins to realize that no matter how welcoming Wolf Creek believes itself to be, it’s still prejudiced—both inside the correctional facility and out.

Breakout was an unusual book which confronted issues of criminal justice and racial prejudice in a way which felt completely natural and was very well done. Kate Messner narrated it in a series of documents submitted by Nora to the time capsule project, mainly by Nora, her best friend Lizzie, and Elidee. This gave the book an unusual feel and depth, and uniqueness, too—there are few books effectively told completely in documents! But instead of becoming dry, it was a really engaging format.

​This book was recommended to me, and if it hadn’t been, I don’t know if I would have read it; however, I’m glad it was. Breakout was an interesting book which covered a lot of issues which I don’t often see in middle-grade books. For anyone who remotely likes realistic fiction, this is a book which is good to read. I would highly recommend Breakout to readers ages ten and up.

By Piranha T.

In Inside Out & Back Again, Thanhha Lai narrates the story of ten-year-old Hà, a girl who has grown up in Saigon during the Vietnam War. Forced to flee her home with the end of the Vietnam War, Hà struggles to make a new life for herself in Alabama, while trying to learn the language, make friends, and understand the world around her.

Inside Out & Back Again was a moving, beautifully written book in free verse. Hà’s life was a moving and very real journey, from a war-torn homeland to peace in a foreign country, the story of a girl who longed for her old life despite all the horrors which were taking place where she had once lived. That reality in the story made it in some ways more powerful than many historical fiction novels which I’ve read—not a fictitious story, something imagined many years later by someone who had never experienced what they were writing about, but something based in real life, in the confusion and dreams of a relatable girl in a terrible situation.

This isn’t a book I’ll forget soon, and I doubt anyone will. I would highly recommend Inside Out & Back Again to readers ages ten and up, particularly those who love Farewell to Manzanar or Brown Girl Dreaming.

By Super Kitty
 
Just before Ari and her older brother Gage’s mother died, she made them promise to stick together, no matter what. So four years later, when Gage announces that he’s gotten an apartment and will no longer live with Janna, their prickly guardian, eleven-year-old Ari follows.

It’s only when they’ve packed their things and left Janna’s house that Ari learns the truth: Gage hasn’t found an apartment yet. He doesn’t have a job, either. Until he can find steady work and a place to live, they’ll have to sleep at friend’s houses, and occasionally the homeless shelter. Gage promises that it’s temporary, but as the weeks go by, Ari begins to feel as if her entire world is crumbling. It’s all but impossible to manage schoolwork, friendships, and activities when you don’t even know where you’re staying on any given night.

Whenever it all feels like too much, Ari plays with her Paper Things—pictures of people, furniture, and houses cut out of magazines and catalogs that form a land of paper dolls. When she’s surrounded by Paper Things, all the problems of the real world fall away and she’s part of a happy family, with parents and a house and even some dogs. In those precious moments, Ari pretends that she’s just a normal girl. And hopes with all her heart that someday, she will be.
​
I listened to this book with my family, and we all enjoyed it. The characters are believable, trying to do the right thing, but also flawed and vulnerable. It’s one of those books which reminds you not to make assumptions, because everyone is facing problems that you don’t even know about. Although older readers might consider the ending a little too perfect, it’s a great book for kids and parents to read and discuss together—although it deals directly with homelessness, giving a glimpse into the lives of many children and teens today, it stays solidly middle-grade and never gets dark or inappropriate. It’s also an excellent choice for book groups. Poignant and thought-provoking, I would recommend Paper Things for readers ages nine and up. ​

By Super Kitty

Ms. Laverne said every day we should ask ourselves, ‘If the worst thing in the world happened, would I help protect someone else? Would I let myself be a harbor for someone who needs it?’ Then she said, ‘I want each of you to say to the other: I will harbor you.’

I will harbor you.
                                                                                                     - Excerpt from Harbor Me


When Ms. Laverne tells six of her fifth/sixth grade students that she wants them to spend Friday afternoons at school in a no-adults-allowed room, talking and getting to know each other, they aren’t exactly thrilled. They aren’t friends, and what are they supposed to talk about, anyway? What’s the point? It mostly seems like a big waste of time.

Slowly, though, the six students begin to learn about each other, and discover that despite their differences they have some important things in common. They may have faced loss, racism, bullying, or poverty. Their parents might be immigrants or undocumented or born in America. But they all have scars that are only just beginning to heal, and over the course of the year, they form a powerful bond, learning to accept each other—and themselves—for who they really are.
​
Jacqueline Woodson (award-winning author of Brown Girl Dreaming) has spun a story that deals with important present-day issues, but also one about childhood, growing up, and searching for your place in the world. I loved the characters, and the way the story unfolded—as a series of one of the students’ memories as she looks back on that life-changing year. I would highly recommend it for ages eleven and up, but although the book is about fifth/sixth graders (the main character, Haley, is eleven), slightly older readers may actually enjoy it more. Stunning, timely, and sometimes heart-wrenching, it’s especially good for book groups and discussions.

There are some books which are unforgettable because they are about past events that really happened. Harbor Me is powerful because it is about the present day, and how for millions of Americans, America isn’t really free. 

 By Super Kitty
 
Pacy Lin is excited about the upcoming Year of the Dog—according to her parents, it’s a year to “find yourself” and make friends. As one of the only Taiwanese-American kids in her school, Pacy sometimes feels like she doesn’t fit in, and the Year of the Dog seems like a good time to figure out who she really is.

Sure enough, she becomes fast friends with Melody Ling, a new girl in school who has so much in common with Pacy that they’re practically twins! Pacy is hoping that the Year of the Dog is a sign that she’s going to discover a new talent and decide what she wants to be when she grows up, and as the year goes by she and Melody compete in a science fair, perform in the school play, enter a Halloween costume contest, and more. But as the end of the year gets closer and closer, Pacy begins to wonder: will she find something that she’s good at before the Year of the Dog is over? Or will she be stuck without a special talent forever? 

I read The Year of the Dog before Piranha T. and I started Rapunzel Reads, and we’ve been meaning to review it ever since! I loved it as second grader, and it was just as good when I re-read it recently—it’s one of those books that is impossible to grow out of, and while aimed for younger kids, older readers shouldn’t take that as a reason not to read it. There are some books which really capture what being a kid is like, and this is one of them. In an author’s note, Grace Lin, who based the story on her own childhood, says that when she was young her favorite books were about normal kids: “When I read those books, it was as if I was wrapped in a warm hug. I saw all the things that I loved and lived—my neighborhood, my friends, and my school. The only thing I didn’t see was me….I wrote [The Year of the Dog] because it was the book I wished I had had when I was growing up, a book that had someone like me in it.” Fun, believable, and engaging, I would highly recommend this book for ages eight and up. And if you enjoy it, I also loved both sequels: The Year of the Rat and Dumpling Days.
​

By Contributing Reviewer FalconX, Age 11

Everyone knows that the Crown Prince Sebastian is hosting a ball to look for the perfect bride. Young ladies squeal over invitations, shops are selling out of ball gowns, and seamstresses are working day and night to keep up with the demand. Frances, a seamstress, is asked to design a dress for Lady Sophia, who is in need of a dress for the ball. However, Lady Sophia is in a bad mood, and she says something to Frances: "Make me look like the devil's wench."

Frances, intrigued by this idea, designs a daringly short black dress of thin chiffon and lace, unlike the colorful sweeping skirts of the other ladies at the ball, and her dress is noticed by all. Including the Crown Prince Sebastian, hidden behind a curtain. Secretly, the prince dreams of wearing something like that.

Frances is offered the chance of a lifetime by Sebastian's personal assistant. She doesn't realize the person she's designing for is a boy, much less the Crown Prince. During the day, Sebastian plays the charming prince, finding a bride, while at night, he goes out in secret in dresses and a wig; and Paris knows him as Lady Crystallia, the "woman" whose dresses and fashion sense is admired everywhere.

Frances is one of the only two people that know Sebastian's secret. But as she keeps designing dresses for the prince, it gets harder and harder to keep his secret. How long can she keep it quiet for her friend before someone finds out?

The Prince and the Dressmaker was a beautifully illustrated graphic novel full of vivid pictures and amazing facial expressions. Jen Wang spins a tale of friendship, courage, and the confidence to embrace one's identity. Frances and Sebastian are characters you will never forget, making you cry and laugh all throughout the book. It mixes suspense, mystery, and just plain fun into the story, making it an unforgettable read. I loved how well the characters' personalities were displayed; through the illustrations, actions, and way they talked. This book explains that no matter who you are, you are free to dress, to act like who you want to be.

I would recommend this book to readers age twelve and up, who enjoy a good, sweet tale set in Paris.

By Super Kitty
 
Everyone thinks George is an ordinary boy—a pizza-loving, Mario Kart-playing, ordinary boy. They’re wrong. Secretly, George knows she’s girl, but she doesn’t know how to tell people that, and isn’t sure if other people would understand. She’s never worked up the courage to tell anyone, and isn’t sure if she ever will. 

But when she finds out that the fourth-grade play is going to be Charlotte’s Web, everything changes. George wants to be in the play—a lot. But not as Wilbur, Templeton, or any of the other boy’s parts.

She wants to be Charlotte.       

Determined to get the part, George and her best friend, Kelly, concoct a scheme to show everyone who George really is, once and for all…from the school bully to George’s mom.

I would recommend this book for ages eight and up, and in fact think that those eight and older should read it. It deepens the reader’s understanding of important present-day issues, and is at the same time moving, captivating, and amusing. The storyline is entertaining, and the ending is perfect for the story. There are more sophisticated and complex books about being transgender available for older readers, but very few are written for younger elementary schoolers, and that’s what really makes George stand out. The straightforward plot, believable characters, and focus on George and Kelly’s friendship make it appealing to younger readers, and it’s an excellent choice for book groups, or for kids and parents to read together and discuss.
​
Before I read it, I understood the theoretical meaning of being transgender, but reading George really helped me appreciate what it’s like, and how hard it can be. Not only was it an interesting and thought-provoking read, it was also a satisfying and enjoyable one.

By Piranha T.

In beautiful poetry, Newbery honor winner Jacqueline Woodson narrates the story of her childhood as an African-American girl in the south. In the sixties and seventies, when the Jim Crowe laws were still in effect in many places in the south, the author was told not to simply accept that way of living. Instead, during her journey from Ohio to South Carolina to New York City, she’s taught to stand by her beliefs and learn who she is.
​
In Brown Girl Dreaming, Jacqueline Woodson combines lyrical poetry with an incredible autobiography. Each poem is like a tiny work of art, a glimpse into her life, scraps of stories which sweep together into a moving, mesmerizing narrative. It tells not just the story of a girl discovering who she is but also what it was like as a Jehovah’s Witness, as someone who never felt quite at home, as a young writer discovering the power of words. It doesn’t have to be action-packed, like many books are today, to be impossible to put down. Jacqueline Woodson’s poetry—and the story she tells in it—is truly incredible. Even though this book is an autobiography, it reads like a story, which is why I placed it under the fiction tab. I would highly recommend Brown Girl Dreaming to readers ages ten and up.

By Super Kitty

Nine-year-old Cassie Logan knows the world isn’t fair. Like how she and her brothers have to walk miles to their school every day, rain or shine, while the children of white plantation owners get to ride the bus. Or how storeowners serve every white customer in the store before asking her what she wants to buy. No one seems to see her past the color of her skin. It’s not right, but in 1933, Mississippi doesn’t show any signs of changing.

Her family has something, though, which keeps them from losing hope. The land. For generations it’s given the Logans a source of income and pride that keeps them from being forced into sharecropping. But it can’t protect them from everything, and it draws the attention of people, powerful people, who would do anything to get their way.

The world isn’t fair, and everyone knows it. To accept the way things are is to be considered inferior, to be mistreated and abused. But change comes at a price, and to rebel is to put at risk everything close to your heart.
​
Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry won the Newbery Medal, and it’s one of those books which completely deserves it. The author creates a setting and cast which truly seem real, and doesn’t shy away from the deplorable things which happened during that period in history. Cassie’s narration is strong and believable, and her family and friends are all stunningly human. The effects of racism and intolerance are far-reaching, and the story makes clear just how horrific they can be. I would highly recommend this powerful, unflinchingly honest book to readers ages 11 and up.

By Contributing Reviewer FalconX, Age 11

Orïsha was a kingdom that hummed with magic. Different people possessed different powers and talents that commanded the elements. That all changed. Zélie Adebola's mother was a maji. This meant that Zélie's mother was magical; and she could summon souls. Under a ruthless king's order, all maji were killed and hung from trees to display to the world the true death of magic. Zélie's mother was among them. No matter what Zélie does, her mother will never return. Then, Zélie's powers begin to manifest. She must keep it a secret. The princess, the daughter of the king responsible of the murder of magic, embarks on a quest with Zélie. Zélie's brother Tzain, the princess, and Zélie set out on a quest to bring magic back. However, the crown prince (the princess's brother) is onto them, and catching up. He has one goal: kill Zélie and kill magic. Zélie is in more danger than she thinks. The crown prince is capable of hunting them down and killing them quickly, but not with Zélie's powers. Tzain tries to protect the princess and Zélie, but they are no match for an army of trained soldiers. Even with Zélie's newly manifested powers. But perhaps the most challenging thing for Zélie is suppressing her growing feelings for the supposed enemy. Will they succeed in bringing magic back to Orisha and returning it to what it was always meant to be? Or will they fail and magic will be lost forever?

This book was so intriguing, good, and cleverly written. I picked it up and could not put it down. Tomi Adeyemi weaves a vibrant and imaginative world. Join Zélie and her companions on a quest to bring the true Orïsha back. I love the plot twist at the end. It is not at all what you expect. The story is rich and full of interesting side plots and different perspectives. By the time I'd gotten the book in my hands, it had been recommended to me by at least eight different people. I love how Tomi Adeyemi makes you feel like you are standing next to the characters, that you are fighting and celebrating and mourning right along with them. This is the first book in a trilogy that the second and third book has not yet come out. I would recommend this book to grades 6-9 because there are very violent parts. 

By Contributing Reviewer FalconX, age 11

Mia Winchell appears to be an ordinary kid. From the outside. She has a secret: after certain sounds and words, she can see colors in the air. At first, Mia's secret is easy to keep. But, as a middle child and juggling home and school, Mia begins to wonder if she should tell someone. But who? And when? At least, she has her best friend Jenna. But are best friends forever? Can she trust Jenna with her one most important secret? Mia thinks she is going crazy. But when she reveals it to someone, they take her to a therapist, and he says that there might be others like her . . . .

​A Mango-Shaped Space is a funny, heart-breaking, and crazy book that will keep you turning pages late into the night. I especially liked the word play and feelings Wendy Mass packed into this novel. This book can make you laugh and cry in the same scene. It makes you feel like you are right beside Mia, experiencing her troubles and triumphs. I would highly recommend this book to grades 5-8. ​

By Piranha T.

Little Rock, Arkansas has been known throughout the country as a hotbed of the segregation and integration movements. In 1957, several African-American students, known as the Little Rock Nine, went to one of the high schools. A year later, high schools are closed all over Little Rock to ensure that they won’t be integrated.

Twelve-year-old Marlee Nisbett isn’t caught up in that piece of the drama, but her older sister Judy is. She’s sent away to their grandparent’s house, and Marlee, who has always been shy and reserved, feels as though her world has been torn apart. Only because of Judy has Marlee even remotely participated in school. Marlee, however, always feels like she’ll say the wrong thing, and usually doesn’t speak in class unless she has to.

But despite believing going to middle school will just make everything worse, Marlee meets Liz, a new girl. Though they have almost nothing in common, they become fast friends. Liz helps Marlee grow more confident with talking to other people as they work together on a project for school. It’s not long, though, before Liz has to leave—and it doesn’t take Marlee long to learn why. Liz is really African-American, trying to get a better education at a better school. Marlee, though, isn’t willing to give up on a friend who has helped her so much, and is determined that their friendship won’t end here. But in 1958 Little Rock, that’s not as easy as it sounds. If anyone learns what they’re doing, both their lives could be in danger—and the world which Marlee’s always known may be about to fall apart.
​
When I started The Lions of Little Rock, I didn’t think it would become one of my favorite books, since historical fiction isn’t usually my favorite genre. But Marlee was an interesting, sympathetic heroine who I could understand every step of the way. Although the schools closing in 1958 and the issue of integration were major points in the plot, what drove the force of the story were the characters and their choices. It didn’t feel like a lesson from a history book, but I learned a lot. It was an excellent book, well-written, weaving in bits of history naturally and easily. I would highly recommend The Lions of Little Rock to readers ages ten and up.