By Ella

Yamilet Flores might not be religious, but when her mom sends her to a local Catholic school, she’s pretty sure it will solve all her problems. She’ll be academically pushing herself and making her mom proud of her. She’ll be able to keep her brother out of the trouble he always got into at their old school. And, maybe most importantly, she can get away from the best friend who outed and rejected her last year, and start over somewhere where no one knows she’s gay. Yami will definitely make a convincing straight girl. Right?

But then she meets Bo on day one of her new school. Bo: who stands up to the questionable academics in their classes, is bedecked with enough rainbow pins for Yami to be sure she’s gay too, and is really, really cute.

Yami is determined not to get a crush on Bo. After all, she has to be a convincing straight girl, and straight girls definitely don’t fall in love with their cute, lesbian friends. But as she begins to realize that denial can only get her so far, Yami has to figure out whether the alternative is even a possibility.

Combining hilarious twists and characters with a beautifully authentic storyline, I couldn’t help but fall in love with Yami and The Lesbiana’s Guide to Catholic School. I was quite literally laughing from the very first page as Yami’s take on Catholic school unfolded in a brilliant cross between You Should See Me In A Crown and Heretics Anonymous, but this story also goes far deeper than that comparison implies, with a powerful undertone of self-discovery and identity that was utterly beautiful. This is one of those novels which truly feels real, with a layered complexity and diverse set of relationships that brought Yami and her story to life. The relationships in this story bear a second mention; Yami’s relationships with her parents, her brother, Bo, and her other friends are each distinct and powerfully realistic, and their choices, conflicts, and interactions gave this book an extra, incredibly authentic dimensionality. ​The Lesbiana’s Guide often strays into more difficult or potentially painful topics as well, but every moment is carried out with depth and sensitivity, so that this book feels not like an issue book or something remotely preachy, but like an ode to the many layers of every person’s life and the ability each of us have to support one another. Full of strength, resilience, and deft writing, I highly recommend The Lesbiana’s Guide to Catholic School to readers ages twelve and up. 

By Ella

When each new Swift is born, the ancient family dictionary is brought out of its glass case to select a name for the newest member of the family—names they’re supposed to live up to. It’s seen as perfectly natural when Phenomena discovers an interest in science. No one bats an eyelash at Candor’s scrupulous honesty.

And Shenanigan Swift? Well, no one expects her to be anything short of a troublemaker.

Which she usually is, of course. But right now, Shenanigan isn’t thinking about her various shortcomings—she’s focused on the upcoming Swift family reunion, during which she’s determined to be the first Swift to find Great-Uncle Vile’s long-lost treasure.

But her plans go awry when there’s a murder attempt on the family Matriarch. Surrounded by Swifts she’s never met and their bevy of enigmatic names, Shenanigan now must train her skills on finding the murderer—before the next victim doesn’t survive.

The Swifts was a brilliant read. I love books with lots of wordplay and quirky humor, and this one was spectacular on both counts, weaving a story so full of cleverness and excitement that I didn’t want it to end. The Swifts are one of the most outrageous and yet utterly believable families I’ve come across in fiction; Shenanigan’s various relatives were all vastly different but eccentric and hilarious in their own ways, and the dynamic between them felt like it perfectly captured the chaotic reality of a gigantic and unusual family. I really loved the characters. Shenanigan was certainly a favorite, with her clever mystery solving and attempts to figure out whether she’s defined by her name, but I truly loved the entire cast; Erf, Maelstrom, and Flora/Fauna were probably my other favorites. Although not central to the storyline and Shenanigan, I also really appreciated how the larger Swift family quietly included queer and nonbinary/trans characters without making a big deal out of it—the normalization truly made me fall even harder for this entire story and family. Lincoln’s writing and the plot is twisty and zany, so full of clever vocabulary and the absolute unexpected that this book was an absolute pleasure to read. This will definitely be one I’ll be rereading in the future—I can’t wait to read the sequel! I highly recommend The Swifts to readers ages ten and up, particularly to anyone who loved The Mysterious Benedict Society but wished it included a murder. 

By Ella

Maya and the Lord of Shadows is the third and final book in the Maya and the Rising Dark trilogy; it is preceded by Maya and the Rising Dark and Maya and the Return of the Godlings.

[Look out—there are spoilers ahead for books 1 and 2!]

The veil is breaking. The war with the Lord of Shadows has arrived. And though the celestials think they know what his plans are, Maya isn’t so sure—he’s been one step ahead of them the whole time, and she doesn’t think that’ll change now. Not when underestimating him is the whole reason the Lord of Shadows was able to break through the veil in the first place, something Maya’s still sure is her fault.

With her friends Eli, Frankie, Eleni, and Zeran by her side, Maya sets off to learn the truth about the Lord of Shadows’ plans—and stop him before he destroys the human world. But his deceptions go deeper than she knows, and stopping him may not be possible. Particularly since he’s willing to do whatever it takes.

​Maya and the Lord of Shadows was a fun, fast-paced series closer that left me fully satisfied. I really love all the characters in this series; Barron has mastered the art of quirky character interactions, and they helped this story truly shine. I particularly love the plotting in this series. I don’t usually struggle to figure out where stories are going to go next, but the twists and turns of Maya and the Lord of Shadows often left me without a clue, which made Maya’s consternation about the Lord of Shadows’ plans feel much more convincing. I also really liked the worldbuilding—as in previous installments, Barron creates a palpable contrast between Earth and the celestial’s homes, adding to the feeling of magic in the narrative. I recommend the Maya and the Rising Dark trilogy to readers ages nine and up who like fantasy adventures and satisfying series. 

By Ella

​After fleeing Vietnam during the war, Hà couldn’t believe that a country as strange and foreign as America could ever become her home. Still, slowly but surely, exactly that has happened, and now Hà can’t imagine leaving her new friends and school.

But exactly that happens when Hà’s mother relocates them to Texas, a place whose name Hà can’t even pronounce. The last thing she wants is to start over again, and again, and again—not when she’s only just gotten used to America itself. But as Hà grows up in her new home, alongside unexpected friends and experiences, she finally begins to find her place in the world.

When Clouds Touch Us is a quiet but beautiful verse novel that serves as a sequel/companion book to Inside Out & Back Again. Once more, I enjoyed Lai’s thoughtful, lyrical free verse, which carried the story along at a quick yet meditative pace that never felt slow but was willing to linger on small yet impactful moments, something particularly important for an atmospheric historical novel like this one. I also really loved Hà—her determination, perseverance, and bravery propelled the story forward, and particularly in a thoughtful novel which easily could’ve felt slow or stagnant, her character was crucial in keeping me swept up in the story, something she did flawlessly. Although you don’t need to have read Inside Out & Back Again to enjoy When Clouds Touch Us (it’s been years since I read the first book, and didn’t actually realize at first that they were related), I think recalling more vividly Hà’s experiences from Inside Out & Back Again would help you understand more deeply who she is entering this story, and make you more familiar with some of the minor characters. I recommend When Clouds Touch Us to readers ages nine and up, particularly those who enjoy novels in verse. 

By Ella

For as long as she can remember, Cordelia and her fellow triplets have been hidden deep in the enchanted forest, protected by their mom from the dangers she insists are beyond its walls--dangers she's too secretive to tell them the truth about. But Cordelia has always found her own ways to escape, because she can turn into any animal she chooses, and flying over the wall in bird-shape to explore the forest is one of her favorite pastimes. 

All that changes when unfamiliar soldiers encroach on Cordelia's home, kidnapping her mom and older brother and leaving the triplets fleeing deep into the forest. It turns out that one of them is the heir to the throne of the kingdom beyond the forest--but no one knows which of them is eldest, and their mom refuges to divulge the truth. And with good reason: ever since the magical Raven Crown broke, battle after battle has broken out over who holds the throne, and no ruler has survived more than a few years. 

Fleeing is the only way for Cordelia and her siblings to survive, but she swiftly realizes that their mom was keeping other secrets, too--and that ending the kingdom's constant conflict might be the only way to ensure her family's safety. Can Cordelia transform not just into animals, but into a hero? 

​I've loved some of Stephanie Burgis's earlier middle-grade fantasy novels, including The Dragon with a Chocolate Heart, and so I was excited to read this one! I wasn't disappointed. The magic system managed to be both familiar and unique, with Burgis's strong descriptions and very practical day-to-day applications making it feel distinct and creative. I particularly liked Cordelia's ability to transform--the way her abilities were altered and limited by the different shapes she took, and the fluidity of her transformations, were especially intriguing. She and her siblings were all strong characters, and the way they played off one another was delightful; although they easily could've felt like classic 'very different' siblings, their dynamic was so realistic it brought them to life. I recommend The Raven Heir to readers ages nine and up, particularly those who like sibling relationships and fantasy quests. 

By Ella

Daisy Thistledown has traveled around the world with her beloved journalist mother. But when her mother disappears and Daisy finds herself alone, on the run from an unknown enemy attempting to steal her dandelion paperweight, she stumbles into a place far more mysterious than any she’s entered before: the Greenwild, a magical pocket of the normal world where Daisy, impossibly, belongs.

Daisy has never lived anywhere long, so when she discovers that the Greenwild might hold the truth about where her mother has gone, she’s more than happy to stay there for a little longer. Surrounded by new things to learn, magical plants, and unexpected friendships, Daisy can almost forget about the enemies hunting her on the other side of the door—and the mysteries about her own life that she finally has the chance to answer. Particularly since her new friends are helping her uncover the truth about her mother’s disappearance.

But whoever took Daisy’s mother is still out there. And their next target might be the Greenwild itself.

When I first came across Greenwild, I had a feeling it would be the kind of magical, atmospheric adventure that made me fall in love with middle-grade fantasy to begin with—books like Finding Serendipity, Magyk, and The Dark is Rising. It was everything I hoped it would be! Accompanied by Thomson’s beautiful writing and gorgeous interior illustrations (which are honestly some of my favorites that I’ve come across in MG), the Greenwild sprang to life in my mind, atmospheric and quirky in all the right places. Thomson truly has the knack of creating a fully formed, believable world nestled within our own, and the Greenwild has the perfect balance of the utterly fantastical and details grounded in stunning realism.

I loved the characters. Daisy was a brilliant protagonist, with such a complicated and relatable mix of emotions. The supporting cast was particularly excellent, and watching secrets be revealed and new characters get introduced was utterly delightful. With plenty of twists and clever surprises, I didn’t want to stop reading this book! I highly recommend Greenwild to readers ages ten and up. 

By Ella

Lark Mairen knows that Fae magic is dangerous. In fact, she's far better acquainted with it than most--for generations, her family has raised the Shadowbred horses ridden by humans and Fae alike in the twice-yearly Wild Hunt, a ritual that chases stray magic from the border between their worlds and maintains their long-held peace. 

But when her beloved older brother, Galin, disappears in the wake of the Wild Hunt, trusting a Fae boy called Rook is Lark's only hope of saving him. Yes, Fae bargains are dangerous, but Lark is willing to do anything to get Galin back, even fixing a mysterious, shattered clock which everyone seems to be searching for. 

Except as unrest grows between the worlds and Lark begins to realize not all is well in the Fae world, she might be the only one who's brave enough to stop it--particularly when she understands the real reason Galin disappeared. 

Perfect for lovers of middle-grade fantasy which is both familiar and unique, Lark and the Wild Hunt was a fantastic read. The worldbuilding was detailed and interesting; from the Shadowbred horses to the clock Lark repairs, the setting was engrossing and fully imagined. I particularly loved the Fae and their world, which was whimsical and mysterious and never predictable in the best possible way. Lark's love for Galin and determination propel the story forward, and she and the other characters--especially Galin and Rook--kept surprising me, creating twists when I least expected them. Adam's awesome twist on the lost family trope was definitely one of the story's highlights! I highly recommend Lark and the Wild Hunt ​to readers ages nine and up. 

By Ella

A lush garden grown where once the ground was dry and inhospitable. A family of women with flowers at their fingertips. A secret buried deep in the earth, waiting to find the sun.

The grounds of La Pradera were empty and parched until the Nomeolvides women filled them with flowers a century ago and made this odd estate their home. Estrella and her cousins are the latest generation of Nomeolvides to fill the flowerbeds with the blossoms that bloom from their hands, and to bear the weight of their family’s terrible curse: whoever they fall in love with will cease to exist, never to be seen again. Raised alongside three generations of Nomeolvides women, Estrella knows it is her fate to fall in love and have her heart broken, just as she knows blue flowers will always spill from her palms when she least expects them, and that her family’s curses are inescapable.

But the Nomeolvides’ way of life for a century is jeapordized when two strangers intrude upon La Pradera’s lush serenity, bringing with them a tangle of questions. One, a boy, is a mystery; he remembers nothing of his past, not even his own name, and yet may be the key to understanding the Nomeolvides’ curse. And the other, a man, seeks to shatter Estrella’s way of life—but he may only succeed in exposing the ugliest secrets deep within the earth.

​Anna-Marie McLemore is one of my absolute favorite writers; their luminous writing, stunning characters, and unusual plots have made every book I’ve read by them an instant favorite (some of their other works include Blanca and Roja, Lakelore, and When the Moon Was Ours). Wild Beauty was no exception. Intricate, gorgeous, and thought-provoking, this tale of family, love, and prejudice wove into something as deep as it is beautiful, a thoughtful reflection on the legacies our families leave us with and the price of forgetting the histories our world is built upon. But this fantasy world of flowers and curses is also part of our own, and the way McLemore seamlessly brings hatred, prejudice and dehumanization truly brings this story vibrantly, and devastatingly, alive. Lush, reflective, and powerful, I highly recommend Wild Beauty to readers ages twelve and up. 

By Ella

Nic Blake is a Manifestor—which, up until now, hasn’t meant a whole lot other than always needing to move when Unremarkable, non-magical humans figure out that there’s something weird about her and her dad. But today is Nic’s twelfth birthday, and she’s hoping that the hellhound pup her dad gives her isn’t the only present he’s planning. She’s been asking him to teach her how to use her magic for years, and maybe now he’ll deem her old enough.

But before she can start pestering her dad again, Nic’s life is utterly upended when her favorite author and a mysterious women crash into her life—and bring the Remarkable police not far behind them. With her dad imprisoned for a crime Nic’s certain he couldn’t have committed and no idea who to go to, Nic teams up with her Unremarkable best friend and a twin brother she never knew she had to clear her dad’s name the only way she knows how—by finding the weapon the Remarkables think he stole before he's sentenced to a terrible fate.

Pursued by the Remarkable police, Nic and her friends must uncover the truth about everyone from a resentful ex-Chosen One to a group of dangerous, magic-wielding Unremarkables if she wants to save her dad in time—but that might mean learning truths about herself she’d have rather stayed hidden.

​Witty, fast-paced, and exciting, Nic Blake and the Remarkables: The Manifestor Prophecy was utterly awesome. Nic is a fiery, fierce, adventurous heroine who I couldn’t help but love; her determination and passion drive the story through all its twists, and I’m so glad I get to follow her through more books in the series! The supporting cast particularly shone as well, especially the adults like Nic’s parents and the ex-Chosen One (one of my personal favorites!), who felt in some ways as fleshed out and vivid as the story’s protagonists. From the first few chapters there was clearly so much depth to their history and stories, and I can’t wait to get to know all of them better in the sequel. As someone who loves subverted tropes, I particularly enjoyed Thomas’s reimagining of the classic Chosen One into something unique and far more interesting, bringing extra depth to a tale that raised interesting questions about the way we tell stories. Indeed, the unexpected depth to what easily could’ve been a straightforward story was part of why I loved it so much; as in Thomas’s other books, she doesn’t shy away from the reality of being a Black kid in America, an honesty seen too rarely in contemporary fantasy novels that only became more powerful through Nic’s indignance that that the Remarkables didn’t use their magic to help Unremarkables in the larger world. Although very different from Angie Thomas’s other books, it shares their self-awareness, powerfully realistic characters, and engrossing writing—all the hallmarks of what make Thomas’s books so amazing. Action-packed and clever, I highly recommend The Manifestor Prophecy to readers ages nine and up. ​

By Ella

Everyone seems to have their own opinion on Marlene’s frizzy hair. For Marlene’s mother, it’s that curly hair should be straightened every week at the salon, yanked and prodded by a much-hated stylist. To her family, it’s only remotely manageable and presentable when it’s styled her mother’s way, but even then, it’ll never live up to her cousin’s Diana’s gorgeous, flowing, straight golden locks. And for Marlene’s classmates? Her hair is just something else to make fun of her for.

Marlene just wishes that she didn’t always have to be so careful to keep her hair tame like the whole world seems to want her to—no running, no dancing, and definitely not any attempts to style it her own way. But with the help of her best friend Camilla and her beloved tía Ruby, Marlene begins to realize that her hair is most beautiful when she wears it the way she wants to—and that maybe she can show everyone else just how lovely it can be, too.

​Frizzy is absolutely wonderful. The sweet, pithy writing of Claribel A. Ortega (also the author of Witchlings) blends with Rose Bousamra’s beautiful, evocative illustrations to create a moving, lovely graphic novel about the prejudices of those around us and the capacity of each of us to be beautiful. Quirky and relatable, I couldn’t help but read Frizzy in one sitting—I was pulled into Marlene’s story from the first page thanks to her struggles with self-identity and how others perceive her, universal questions that gave the book such depth. Perhaps best of all was the realism of Marlene’s interactions with other characters, particularly her family; ranging from awful to heartwarming, they truly brought the story alive with dimensionality and authenticity. I highly recommend Frizzy to readers ages eight and up, particularly more reluctant readers or those looking for an affirming, realistic story. 

​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! 

​
[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
​
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

Note: For this review, I used pronouns consis-tent with Ana's perceived gender identity at the beginning of the book. 

Twelve-year-old Ana Jin might be last year's US Juvenile girl's figure skating champion, but that doesn't mean she likes the dresses most skaters are forced to wear during competitions. Far from it--and when Ana discovers that the program she's expected to perform at nationals this year is princess-themed, she can't figure out why it feels so wrong to her. Sure, Ana has never liked wearing dresses, but no one else at the rink seems to have a problem with it. Why should she?

But everything changes when Ana meets Hayden, a transgender boy who's just starting to learn how to skate. Especially when he mistakes her for a boy--and Ana doesn't correct him. Somehow, this feels way better than everyone just assuming she's a girl. But what does that even mean? 

As the nationals qualifier draws nearer, Ana must figure out who she really is--and decide whether the world knowing her identity is worth sacrificing years of training in an uncompromisingly gendered sport. 

​I can't believe it took me two years to read Ana on the Edge. Thoughtful, lovely, and utterly affirming, Ana's journey is both beautiful and fast-paced, and even if I had wanted to put it down (I didn't!), I don't think I could have managed to. I absolutely loved this book. From the first page, Sass waves together figure skating, friendship, family, change, and understanding one's own identity into a story so relatable and realistic that I feel as though I could meet Ana on the street. The characters are all layered and complex, and their interactions and conflicts were spot-on. I particularly loved Ana, whose gradual understanding of her nonbinary identity felt incredibly true, and whose questions, concerns, and feelings over the course of this story made me fall in love with her. The window on the world of ultra-competitive figure skating was also very interesting, and the nuance of Ana's worries about how her mom will pay for her increasingly expensive coaching made it feel both immediate and very real. This is one of the very best realistic fiction novels I've read in a long time. Heartwarming, authentic, and beautifully true, I highly recommend Ana on the Edge to readers ages ten and up, particularly those who love realistic fiction or are considering their own gender identity. 

By Ella

Celia Cleary has always known that on her 4,444th day alive, she'll inherit the power of prophecy, just like generations of Clearys  before her. She's been looking forward to it, too. But none of her grandmother's stories have prepared her for the shock of finally having her first vision--and watching the boy down the street, Jeffery, die. 

Celia knows she has to save him. She might not know him well, but she's always been sure she should use her prophetic powers for good. So, despite her grandmother's warn-ings, she saves him--and immediately sees another vision of him dying. And another. 

Apparently death is set on its quarry, but Celia isn't going to let this happen--particularly as she gets to know Jeffery better, and might even begin to feel some-thing for him. But as her seventh-grade year dissolves into fortune-telling chaos, and Celia learns more about her power, she must decide whether she can keep outwitting death forever--or if some things simply can't be changed. 

The Problem with Prophecies is a clever, magical, and ultimately bittersweet tale of friendship, growing up, and family. I loved the Cleary family's gifts and the stories Celia's grandmother tells about their ancestors, which are both hilarious and clever (the excerpted page from 'the Cleary Family Guide Book' on the back cover may be one of my favorite book jacket accents) and always firmly secured in the modern day. Scott Reintgen (who also wrote the fantastic middle-grade Talespinners series) deftly creates a tale both lightly humorous and moving; I can't wait to see what he writes next! I recommend The Problem with Prophecies ​to readers ages ten and up, particularly those who enjoy fantasy grounded in the real world.