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 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

​Becoming assistant to mapmaker Paiyoon has been Sai's first and only chance to escape the life she was born into. But in a birth-based society where your ancestry determines your future, Sai has to keep her con father and home in the marshes outside the city of Mangkon a secret--or risk Paiyoon's employment and the only chance she's ever had to earn enough to escape her father and the low status afforded to her by her birth. 

When she and Paiyoon are given a place on an expedition intended to map the southernmost reaches of the world, Sai is thrilled. Here, at last, is her chance to escape her life and Mangkon and use her wages to start over somewhere where no one knows her. 

But Sai isn't the only member of the ship not telling the whole truth, and when she discovers the expedition may be headed for the mythical Sunderlands, land of dragons, riches, and the impossible, Sai must decide what she's willing to give up to reach the future she's worked so hard for. 

The Last Mapmaker is an expertly paced, imaginative fantasy novel which I couldn't stop reading until the final page. Sai is the rare protagonist who doesn't always do the right thing, but always does it in a way so understandable and relatable that a reader can't help but sympathize with her decisions; I love how her choices and feelings drive the course of the story. Without using excessive description, Soontornvat's writing makes this world bloom in my mind, and I had a very strong sense of place throughout this book. I loved the details of the setting, particularly Mangkon and the legends about the mysterious Sunderlands. I highly recommend The Last Mapmaker to readers ages nine and up, particularly those who enjoy fantasy novels with strong heroines and complex characters. 

By Lina 

The princess with flaming hair, signifying war; the coveted bride with blushing cheeks, representing bloodshed; the girl who, despite the battles fought over her hand in marriage, never speaks a single line---who really is Lavinia of Virgil's epic The Aeneid? In Le Guin's imagination, she is thoughtful, caring, quiet, fiercely intelligent: a leader in her own right, who loves her people and her freedom, and refuses to be bound to the future others choose for her.

In Lavinia, the titular character traces the story of her life, one ignored or overlooked for centuries. She tells of a happy childhood, the only daughter of King Latinus, wandering the forests and fields of Latium with her best friend; of the sudden arrival of suitors vying for her hand in marriage, and thus the end of her freedom; of the Trojan stranger, foretold of in omens, who arrives on their shore; of the fated war fought with her own future as its prize. And she tells the story that comes after, of her happiness and heartbreak, victories and betrayals, and of her fierce, unyielding determination to protect her people and those she loves. 

Lavinia can certainly be enjoyed by those who haven't read The Aeneid---it's a great story, beautifully told, either way---but for those who have, it's simply stunning, a retelling of a classic tale that faithfully follows the threads and characters of the original while deftly smoothing out its inconsistencies, frustrations, and occasional illogicality. I felt as though I was not so much reading a new version of an ancient epic as experiencing Virgil's story through different, perhaps more thoughtful eyes, making it equal parts fascinating and delightful to follow Lavinia's classic tale: or, perhaps more accurately, to discover it. Given the casual misogyny of the original, it's immensely satisfying to read feminist Le Guin's take on The Aeneid, which, while faithful to the original, often approaches its content in a markedly different way. Lavinia is a compelling, independent character who never falls into the trap of some modern historical fiction which grafts modern opinions onto historical characters; even her cruel mother Amata, it is gently suggested, has suffered at the hands of patriarchy perhaps more than Virgil was willing to admit---or able to notice. 

Le Guin's mastery of building fantasy worlds is well-suited to evoking the still-rustic land of Latium before it was Rome, a place steeped in ancient tradition and folklore, guided by fate and strange omens as much as political strategy; she leaves the lines between history, ancient invention, and modern interpretation delightfully opaque. The final touch is the introduction of Virgil himself as a character, which, rather than detracting from the main story, enhances it with quiet questions of fate and perspective and who tells enduring tales, and gently reminds readers---and Lavinia herself---of the many layers of existence and opinion needed to tell a tale. Riveting and evocative, I would highly recommend Lavinia to readers ages fourteen and up. 

​By Ella

Everyone in the village is sure that Luka Lupu--clever, kind, and full of wisdom--will be a sorcerer one day, and help protect Illyria against the ferisome Dread. Even his sister, Marya, believes that, although no one would listen to her if she didn't. Stubborn, opinionated, and, worst of all, a girl, the Lupus have no expectations for Marya. Her parents only hope that when the sorcerers who test promising boys for magical potential find it in their Luka, Marya will not be too great of an embarrassment. 

But even these low expectations are dashed when the sorcerer's test goes horribly wrong, and Marya is sent off to Dragomir Academy--a place intended to instill good manners into troubled girls. 

At first, Marya finds herself at Dragomir as she always has been: incompetent and full of mistakes, somehow unable to heed the rules. Troubled. But as time passes and Marya learns more about Dragomir and her fellow students, she begins to wonder whether facts she's been taught all her life are true after all--and what Dragomir Academy is really intended for. 

The Troubled Girls of Dragomir Academy is simultaneously an engrossing, nuanced story full of magic and mystery and a deep, thoughtful exploration of the stories our society tells us--and who, ultimately, they truly serve. Anne Ursu weaves a tale led by a strong, flawed protagonist who finds herself coming to terms with a world that would rather she stay silent, and a society designed to keep her that way. This reflective, almost philosophical undertone--perhaps best epitomized by the lingering question, 'who does the story serve?'--creates an undercurrent of questioning and cross-examining patriarchy and predominant narratives that both inspires and empowers, and never even considers veering into a preachy, overt, or otherwise contrived vein. Much like the slightly older Girls at the Edge of the World, it evolves and intertwines with the narrative, giving the story new resonance without ever stealing away its strong and resounding voice and plot. I also love the story and plot itself; its unexpected twists, straightforward yet evocative language, distinctive characters, and beautifully paced unfolding mystery kept me swept up in the story until long after the final page. I highly recommend The Troubled Girls of Dragomir Academy to readers ages ten and up. 

By Lina

​When first year Malena Malavé Rosario is punished for not wearing a bra to school---an option a vicious sunburn rendered impossible---she's enraged, but feels helpless to protest. She's facing too much already: trying to build a new life with her mother, less than a month after Hurricane María ravaged her beloved island, and navigating a new school, all while worrying about her father, who's still in Puerto Rico, helping others rebuild. Besides, given the slights and stereotypes that she has already experienced, she's not sure anyone would listen to her.     

Senior Ruby McAlister is an outspoken feminist who has always wanted to make a difference---she's just never quite been sure how. And after years of being outshone by her older sister Olive (who has reached step five of her perfectly planned-out life: change the world) and being pressured by her overenthusiastic parents, she's not sure that she has what it takes. But when she stumbles upon a freshman getting targeted and body-shamed by the school administration thanks to the school's sexist dress code, she's determined to get involved. 

Malena is wary of Ruby's plan to protest the dress code at first---but she's also very, very tired of being seen as poor, helpless María Malena. And it's beginning to feel as though if she doesn't claim her voice now, it'll disappear forever. So she agrees. 

Malena and Ruby quickly strike up a friendship, and both are determined to stop the sexism and body-shaming the dress code enables. But pushing for change is complicated---especially in a system where some girls are treated differently than others. As their fledgling high school movement rapidly gains momentum, media coverage, and vicious backlash, they must examine their personal biases, privilege, and fears if their protests are to truly fight for justice. 

Few books present such a believable, empowering, multilayered tale of contemporary youth feminism, in all its messiness and complexity and passion and power, as Does My Body Offend You?, and it's a true joy to read a tightly-plotted, character-driven story that explores and celebrates it. It's refreshing to read a book about normal teens embracing feminism and fighting for change in their community, and even more so to read one which doesn't shy away from examining how race, economic status, and other factors influence the sexism they experience and fight---as well as how they themselves approach and understand it. Espousing support for intersectional feminism is one thing, but actually living it is often quite another, and Does My Body Offend You? does a truly excellent job of exploring how privilege infiltrates and influences work against misogyny, and promoting the importance of listening and allyship as an essential part of feminism. Malena and Ruby are both strong, compelling characters with distinct narrative voices and arcs, and I absolutely loved their friendship; the supporting cast is excellent as well (I want to be friends with so many of the characters!) The story is deftly woven and skillfully balanced between the two perspectives, making it a fast, highly engaging read. Ruby offhandedly complains about the irony of women policing other women's bodies as the beginning of the book---but it's far more complex than women simply enforcing sexism, a concept which the book explores beautifully without ever sounding preachy or contrived. Does My Body Offend You? delves into many key pieces of modern feminism in an insightful, accessible way, while never just feeling like a vehicle for explaining them---rather, it examines them through the lens how they intersect with the characters' lives. We need more books like it! An engrossing, nuanced, empowering story of activism, friendship, allyship, and finding your voice, I would highly recommend Does My Body Offend You? to readers ages twelve and up. 

By Ella

Holly the squirrel once had grand dreams of being a heroic familiar like generations of brave animals before her, and saving the world by the side of her wizard. But when she drank from the magic pool that gives familiars their powers, her ability--conjuring pastries--wasn't deemed good enough for the wizards. Instead, she was sent to the Shelter for Rejected Familiars, where animals like her live. 

Ever since, Holly has been intent on welcoming new arrivals to the Shelter for Rejected Familiars, whose abilities to turn to stone, float, or move the universe two feet to the left simply didn't live up to the wizards' expectations. She's found a community here, and she's determined to enjoy it, even if she'll never fully shake her old dreams of heroism and accomplishment. 

When another Shelterling brings back news of a spell that could fix them and give them the magic powers they all deserve, Holly is determined to make it work. But as she and her friends defeat dragons, navigate tunnels, and travel across the sea to gather the necessary ingredients, she begins to wonder: what if they don't need better powers to be extraordinary after all? 

I've adored every book I've read by Sarah Beth Durst (Spark, The Stone Girl's Story, and The Girl Who Could Not Dream are a few favorites), and her newest novel, The Shelterlings, utterly lived up to my hopes. With strong characters, clever twists, and an ever-present hint of humor, I sped through Holly's story and loved every word of it. Durst is a master of worldbuilding and adding uniqueness to every story, and her angle on the classic trope of familiars was particularly enjoyable. I also loved the characters, particularly Holly, Gus, and Periwinkle! I highly recommend The Shelterlings to readers ages nine and up, particularly those who like fantasy adventure novels. 

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. 

​By Ella

Everyone believes that Quinton Peters is dead, but his younger sister, Amari, has never been convinced. He just disappeared--she's sure he's out there somewhere. So when she discovers a suitcase from Quinton with her name on it--and an invitation inside from somewhere called the Bureau of Supernatural Affairs--she's certain that whatever it means, it holds the key to discovering what really happened to Quinton. 

But the Bureau, an organization which keeps magic and the magical world hidden from everyone else, isn't exactly handing out information about the disappearance of one its top agents--even if Amari is his sister. It quickly becomes clear that if Amari is going to learn what really happened to Quinton, she's going to have to compete for a spot in the Bureau against far more experienced candidates--not all of whom think Amari deserves a place here at all. 

Amari must forge some unlikely friendships and uncover the plans of one of the most dangerous magicians of all time if she wants to find a place at the Bureau, and learn what really happened to Quinton. But doing so may destroy her tentative acceptance in the Bureau--and keep her from seeing the most perilous deception of all. 

I've heard so much about Amari and the Night Brothers​, and I'm so glad I finally read it--it not only lived up to my high expectations, but exceeded them. Many of Amari's story elements are familiar, but Alston's strong characters and absorbing world-building make them feel utterly new, creating an exciting page-turner that left me wishing I already had book two. I utterly loved this world--full of small, quirky details and stunning descriptions, I was completely engrossed in the Bureau of Supernatural Affairs. Its flaws and prejudices made it deeper and layered, and helped it feel far more realistic than an idealistically perfect society. Amari's determination and love for Quinton truly drive this story, and I'm glad I'll be able to enjoy more books about her--and the supporting cast (particularly Elsie and Dylan), who are equally awesome! This story had more than one twist that truly surprised me, and I loved how the mystery of what really happened to Quinton unfolds. I highly recommend Amari and the Night Brothers to readers ages ten and up who love fantasy books full of clever plotting and strong characters. 

By Ella

Jake has just gotten used to being the first openly gay kid at his middle school, though he only recently told his parents. There just never seemed to be a good time, no matter how accepting he knew they'd be. 

But ​Jake's dad is the type to...overcompensate. And when Jake comes home from school, he discovers a pride flag in front of their house he's pretty sure could be seen from an airplane. 

Not everyone's pleased--but there's a lot of support, too. And Jake begins to wonder: what if he can throw the first pride parade in his small Ohio town? 

With the help of his best friend and the mayor's son, Jake might just convince his hometown to celebrate who he really is--and, in the process, figure out what pride really means. 

Small Town Pride ​is a sweet story about friendship, identity, and being yourself. I liked Jake and his friends' efforts to start a pride parade and their enthusiasm; their determination was palpable throughout. The fact that this was set in a small town was also awesome--instead of setting it in a city, the backdrop of a place where everyone knows each other and not much has changed for a long time both made Jake's struggles more realistic, and made it more fun to read about. I recommend Small Town Pride to readers ages nine and up. 

By Ella

"On a warm April morning, a week after the terrible day on which Grand-mère Sylvie died, Sylvie walked away from her home...She did not look back and she did not cry. She did not deserve tears. 

​She had made a terrible mistake."

                                     - from Healer and Witch 

Sylvie's Grand-mère has always had a strange, unaccountable gift for healing, able to save lives when Sylvie's mother cannot. But Sylvie has never seen this ability--or even the stranger power she herself has inherited--as witchcraft, or even as dangerous. Not until, in the wake of Grand-mère Sylvie's death, she seeks to heal her mother's grief, and instead steals her memories of Grand-mère Sylvie--and of Sylvie herself. 

​Sylvie is determined to find someone to teach her how to properly use her gift so that she might return her mother's memories. With Martin, the farrier's son, by her side, Sylvie sets off into the world beyond her tiny, rural hometown. But sixteenth-century France is a dangerous place for a girl with odd powers, full of questions and inquisitors and those who would use her gift to their own ends. Sylvie must decide what life she is willing to lead--and who, in all the world, she can trust to show her her way. 

Healer and Witch is an exquisitely written, beautiful historical fantasy novel that weaves many disparate threads into a single, stunning storyline. Although I initially picked up this book for its lovely cover, Werlin's writing pulled me in instantly:  simple and unadorned, it perfectly evokes the time and Sylvie's character as a girl who is far from naive, but nonetheless is largely ignorant of the world. Sylvie's journey toward understanding, self-discovery, and in a way independence in a land that would rather stifle, confine, and condemn her for her abilities and simply for being a woman weaves the heart of this book, giving the story an emotional depth and complexity that truly make it shine. The setting also feels particularly well-imagined, including the characters who Sylvie meets along her way. Overall, I highly recommend Healer and Witch ​to readers ages ten and up, particularly those who like historical fantasy or enjoyed the depth and writing style of The Troubled Girls of Dragomir Academy. 

By guest reviewer Jo March

​​No one new every comes to Fawn Creek, Louisiana. The same thirteen kids have been in the same class all the way through seventh grade. Twelve, now that the infamous Renni Dean has left. And now another change is on the horizon: Orchid Mason, the new girl.

Soon, everyone in school is talking about Orchid. Orchid wears a flower in her hair. Orchid has lived in New York, Paris, and Venice, places the kids from Fawn Creek could only dream of. Orchid goes to the woods every day after school. No one knows where she lives.

Nothing every changes in Fawn Creek. Will Orchid be the thing that breaks that spell?

This is definitely one of the books I'll remember reading this year. Erin Entrada Kelly paints a true picture of the humid, leafy Louisiana town, and creates a lovably flawed and complex cast of characters. This book is about a single event that will change their lives forever; and its ending is so sweet and ambiguous that you'll feel that whatever happens to the characters next, it will be something that they make for themselves. Definitely recommend to anyone ages 9-14 (and older!).

By Ella

Alliana has been raised in her stepmother's inn, relegated to menial chores. For years after her father's death, she was able to keep dreaming of fairy tales with the support of Grand-mother Mari, whose tapestries and stories showed Alliana a world beyond their tiny village. But now a year has passed since Grandmother Mari's death, and the only magic left in Alliana's life is the baby nightdragon she discovers she can talk to. She knows better than to think her stepmother will let her attend the Farmlands Ball, her only chance of escaping her small hometown and to be enrolled in the Royal Academy.

​But everything changes when she meets Nela, a young witch who needs her help. For the first time since Grandmother Mari's death, Alliana has a chance to reach the future she's always dreamed of--but if her stepmother finds out, it could doom her to a life trapped at the inn.

Will Alliana be trapped beneath her stepmother's power forever? Or can she still find her own happily ever after?

Alliana, Girl of Dragons is a prequel/companion book to the Eva Evergreen duology (Eva Evergreen, Semi-Magical Witch and Eva Evergreen and the Cursed Witch)​​, and if you liked Eva Evergreen, you'll definitely like Alliana too--they share a magical, whimsical world, strong writing, and brilliant characters. I particularly enjoyed how Abe reshapes the Cinderella fairy tale into a story that fits perfectly with the Eva Evergreen books, including several prominent overlapping characters. Once again, the small details of the worldbuilding make the setting come alive, and I felt fully engrossed in Alliana's adventure. I recommend Alliana, Girl of Dragons ​to readers ages ten and up.

By Ella

​Ever since second grade, twelve-year-old Lilla and her best friends, Vivi and Knox, all wish on dandelions at the end of the school year--and whoever blows the hardest gets to declare a summer challenge for the others. Vivi and Knox are the only ones who are really competing, of course; where Vivi is determined and Knox is funny, Lilla is just quiet. She'd rather say nothing and make everyone happy than risk throwing herself out there. 

But when Vivi declares it the Summer of Brave, that's exactly what she wants Lilla to do. And this summer, there's a lot not to be brave about. 

There's her parents' divorce, of course, where they're intent on what they think is best for her rather than asking her what she really wants. And she can't help but lie about the prestigious high school they're already intent on getting her admitted to, because how can she tell them she doesn't want to go when they're so proud of her qualifying for an application? And then there's a catcalling college student who's a supervisor at her summer volunteer job, whose harassment everyone dismisses as no big deal. 

Lilla's sure that talking about these things will just make her life more difficult. But maybe telling the truth is what she needs most. 

Unflinching, realistic, and beautiful, Summer of Brave manages to say so much in a relatively short book, and I loved every word of it. Navigating friendships, feminism, academic pressure, divorce, girls in STEM, and so much more is tied together into a quiet, brave story which gains its power from both when Lilla speaks up and when she feels she must remain silent. Many books about being brave seem to present it from a single angle, which includes becoming constantly, effortlessly confident, but this book doesn't--Lilla remains quiet and shy while still becoming brave, a powerful and too-rare nuance which was part of why I loved her character so much. I also loved how Lilla feels the seemingly conflicting pressures to be 'girly' and smart/groundbreaking, and her struggle with what everyone seems to think is the 'right' way to be a girl. This story never feels preachy or contrived; instead, it paints a realistic portrait of the many layers of Lilla's life with compelling honesty. In addition to Lilla, the supporting characters, especially Vivi, Knox and Lilla's parents, were very realistic, and even when I didn't agree with them, I understood where they were coming from. I highly recommend Summer of Brave ​to readers ages ten and up, particularly those who enjoy thoughtful realistic fiction. ​