Song of a Blackbird will be released on January 21, 2025! 

Emma Bergsma, 1943 Amsterdam. After witnessing the deportation of Jewish neighbors to concentration camps, Emma joins the Dutch Resistance as a printer, helping to forge documents and banknotes. 

Annick, 2011 Amsterdam. Annick's beloved grandmother is dying, and she needs a bone marrow transplant from a family member to survive. But the doctor's tests reveal that her grandmother was actually adopted - which means to save her, Annick has to find her original family first. With only a few old prints to guide her - all signed by the unknown 'Emma B' - Annick sets out to trace her grandmother's past and find her family. 

Song of a Blackbird is a beautifully illustrated graphic novel that blends past and present dual timelines into a thoughtful story about remembering the past. Although primarily fictional, this story was based on true events and carefully researched, and it shows: the arc of the story and details all rang incredibly true, and made it all the more engaging of a read. The art to this book has almost a scrapbook feel, blending historical documents with characters and artwork, and it absolutely added so much to the text, transporting me into the past through the mixed media. I loved both storylines: Annick and Emma were both compelling characters, and their individual struggles - and points of connection - made me speed through this read. I highly recommend Song of a Blackbird to readers ages twelve and up who love historical fiction and art in all its forms! 

Thank you to Macmillan/First Second for providing an e-ARC in exchange for an honest review! All opinions are my own. 

ages 12+ / ARC / book group pick / fiction / family / graphic novel / historical fiction / standalone / young adult

By Nico

Oliver Bennet’s life does not seem too promising. With the impending threat of marriage only the latest reminder that the world still thinks he’s the girl he’s never been, his current solace—slipping out at night dressed in boy’s clothes, getting to be himself after pretending all day—looks on the verge of slipping out of reach. How can he hope to survive in a world, let alone in a marriage, that denies his very existence?

But Oliver meets Darcy, who not just treats him cordially, but seeks out his friendship. At first, Oliver is just glad that Darcy sees him as the boy he truly is. He never would’ve imagined that their friendship could become something more—or that someone could love the real Oliver.

Stuck between a false life, where he’s forced to wear petticoats and respond to a name that’s never been his, and a real one where he slips out at night to meet Darcy and discover the path he’s always dreamed of, Oliver knows that this precarious balancing act can’t last forever. With his family on the verge of learning the truth about him, Oliver must decide on his own terms how he wants to live his life, even if that means risking the only family he’s ever known.

I loved both The Wicked Bargain and Pride and Prejudice, so I knew going into Most Ardently book that it probably wouldn’t meet my extraordinarily high expectations. I was absolutely wrong. Gabe Cole Novoa delivers one of the best books I’ve read in a long time, which brought me several times to tears of joy (not something that often happens!) and, to be honest, gave me hope for the future.

To begin with, Oliver is absolutely fantastic. I immediately fell in love with his palpable longing, his strong friendships, and his worldview, all combined in a character who spoke to me so deeply that I struggled to put Most Ardently down. Due to the book’s short length, there were certainly characters I would’ve loved to see played with more (Mr. Collins and Wickam are the most obvious ones that jump out at me), but the flipside of this meant getting to spend the majority of the book with a smaller cast of characters, allowing me to get to know each of them incredibly well. I particularly loved how Gabe Cole Novoa created Darcy’s character, which felt incredibly true to the original while also gaining its own spark.

Novoa sticks to the original story but is never afraid to branch out to create a book that truly feels like it could’ve existed behind Pride and Prejudice all these years. The plotlines with Mr. Bennet and Wickam particularly leaps to mind, but honestly there wasn’t a single point in this book where my absorption in the story and suspension of belief were broken—something I very rarely see in a retelling, and yet was executed so flawlessly I didn’t even register it until the end.

The only place that might’ve felt a little too perfect was the ending, but honestly, I was so happy for all the characters that I couldn’t bring myself to mind! I highly recommend Most Ardently to readers ages twelve and up, particularly those who love historical fiction or feel-good trans romance. 

By Lina
​
Ari Mendoza - Aristotle, if you want to annoy him - is fifteen. A fifteen-year-old boy, in summer, with a father who holds the Vietnam war silent inside him and an irritatingly perceptive mother who adores him. One with a brother in prison, leaving him with questions his parents will never answer, and two grown-up sisters, making him a sort of fake only child, which is pretty depressing, when you think about it. 

Ari’s not particularly interested in making friends - most people know to leave him alone, and that’s just fine with him. But then he meets Dante Quintana, an irrepressible, erudite boy who appears at the local pool and offers to teach him to swim. Ari doesn’t like accepting help. But for whatever reason, he says yes to Dante. 

Ari is moody rain and fierce loyalty, a self-professed expert loner. Dante is sunlight and poetry and smart-aleck comebacks. They’re utterly different. They’re remarkably alike. 

Together, they might discover the secrets of the universe. 

By the time I read Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe, not only did I have high expectations, I felt I had a pretty good sense of the overall trajectory of the story. Historical queer romance? Coming-of-age tale? When you read a lot, you often go into books with a decent sense of what they’ll be like based on the loose sketch you’ve gotten from the flap and - when they’re as acclaimed and successful as this one - the reviews and recommendations. While each is unique, they often fit semiconscious, overall molds. 

Not this one. Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe was entirely different than I was expecting, carrying on in its own way, politely brushing my expectations aside each time I thought I knew what was going to happen next. Instead of the standard three-act love story I was expecting, I was launched into a stunning meditation on growing up, on figuring out who you are, and on the complexity of families and secrets and being a teenager, all while remaining unwaveringly fresh and authentic. Some books - just a few - capture that ineffable essence of growing up, of hovering on that border between childhood and adulthood; The Perks of Being a Wallflower comes to mind. This is one of them. 

It’s rare for me to fall in love with an entire cast of characters, but it happened here. All the characters, including both sets of parents, are complex and flawed and effortlessly human, and all felt real; their dialogue is particularly strong and believable. Ari is a captivating protagonist, messy, witty, wickedly smart and surprisingly introspective, while Dante’s brilliance, quirkiness, and indescribable individuality shine. I was especially struck by Sáenz’s remarkable ability to tell readers a great deal without outright saying anything of the sort, particularly concerning Ari himself: one is so deeply enmeshed in his mind, his life, and his feelings that one often viscerally understands his emotions and thoughts without his actually admitting to them. 

A tale of family, friendship, secrets, love, growing up, and, at its very heart, being human, I would highly recommend this raw, thoughtful, beautiful story to readers ages 14 and up. It’s also excellent on audio.

By Nico

Potosí, 1600s. Spain has established a viceroyalty in one of its newest colonies, Peru. The streets of the city are full of beauty and chaos and danger, hardly the place for two young ladies from the upper class.

But at night, Kiki de Sonza and Ana Lezama de Urinza, daughter and ward of one of Peru’s wealthiest men, trade their voluminous skirts and amenable smiles for daggers wielded with the upmost precision, and venture into the streets—to explore, to protect those who can’t protect themselves, and to experience the brilliant, forbidden love that’s long burgeoned between them.

These two parts of their lives have long been separate: streets by night, skirts by day. But when Kiki’s brother is murdered the night of her engagement announcement, their only hope of finding answers lies on the winding streets of Potosí—where they will either find the truth, or become the murderer’s next victims.

I read and loved the Girl at Midnight series by Melissa Grey years ago, so when I discovered she had a new series, featuring historical adventure, sword-wielding lesbians, and a murder mystery, I immediately knew I had to check it out. Valiant Ladies certainly didn’t disappoint! I loved Kiki and Ana—although I don’t always love books with a prominent romance plotline, both characters were so brilliant that I couldn’t resist rooting for them. With witty dialogue, righteous determination, and an absolutely fabulous dynamic, I didn’t want to put this book down. The historical aspect of Valiant Ladies was also excellent, and I love how the characters never felt like they were solely reflecting modern sensibilities about queer characters or feminism; instead, they all felt wholly alive in the historical setting. I didn’t go into this story expecting its twisting, complex plot, but it more than delivered. Melissa Grey weaves a multilayered, clever mystery full of surprises and quirks that propelled the story forward at a swift and ever-engaging pace. Full of vibrance, fire, and action, I highly recommend Valiant Ladies to lovers of queer romance and historical fiction ages thirteen and up. 

By Nico

​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 Nico

Mar’s papá is one of the greatest pirates in the Caribbean—and one of the most feared by the Spanish conquerors whom he steals from. But for Mar, their papá’s ship is more than a home; it’s their sanctuary, the only place where they can use their mysterious fire and ice magia without being called a demon, and where they can be their authentic self without people sorting them into gendered boxes that have never really fit.

On Mar’s sixteenth birthday, though, their way of life is shattered when they learn that their papá made a bargain years ago with el Diablo himself—and that he’s come to collect his price. In the chaos of fire and wind that he summons, the ship goes down, and Mar is the only survivor.

Saved by irritating—and inexplicably pretty—son of a rival pirate ship’s captain, Mar is left to forge a new life for themselves, one where no one knows who they are or what they can do and discovery means death. And overhanging it all is el Diablo’s painful ultimatum: either Mar sacrifices themself to save their father by the time two moon cycles have passed, or they’ll lose him forever.

Mar must fend off hostile pirates, Spanish soldiers, an irritatingly persistent demonio, and their own uncertainty and insecurity if they want to have any hope of saving their father—and of getting through the next few weeks alive.

Fast-paced, absorbing, and brilliant, The Wicked Bargain is fantasy pirates at their finest, perfect for fans of The Sunbearer Trials. I absolutely love the historical fantasy world Novoa has woven in this book—blending real-life events (Latinx pirates, Caribbean conflicts with the Spanish colonizers) and fantasy elements (magia, el Diablo, demonios) into a riveting, atmospheric story that I couldn’t put down. Mar was such an awesome protagonist—their realistic, powerful internal conflicts and nuanced gender identity truly brought this story to life for me. I particularly loved their interactions with the supporting cast, particularly Bas and Demi (my two other favorite characters), which had a depth and spark that helped absorb me in their world. I highly recommend The Wicked Bargain to anyone ages thirteen and up who loves engrossing, multilayered YA fantasy, particularly that which stars trans and LGBTQ+ characters. 

By Nico

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

“…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 Lina

​Ten-year-old Ailey Lane is determined to get the part of the Scarecrow in his school's production of The Wiz, and not only because his dance moves are just begging for the spotlight, and he loves coming up with impromptu raps. It's because he always messes things up, and the more people he tells about tryouts, the more he realizes that no one expects him to get it right this time, either.

Everything is shaping up perfectly, though--until it's Ailey's turn at tryouts and he freezes up. Bad. He might be a class clown, but it's totally different having all those eyes on him when he's not just goofing off, and it's like they hit an erase button in his mind. Maybe everyone was right, after all.

Ailey decides he'll never dance again, and when his family asks him how auditions went, he expects a grown-up pep talk about persistence and practice and so on. But Grandpa surprises him--that night, he tells Ailey that when he was younger, he loved tap dancing, and was so good that Bojangles himself tapped with him once and loaned him his tap shoes, saying to bring them back when Grandpa was ready to give performing a shot. But he never mustered the courage to do it, and the shoes, which Bojangles said have a smidgen of magic, are tucked away in a closet, a mark of the regret that Grandpa has carried throughout his life. He has always wondered how far he might have gotten if he had been brave enough to do what he loved. He tells Ailey that he doesn't want him to have regrets, too.

Later that night, Ailey can't stop thinking about Grandpa's story, and he finds the shoes and tries them on. And Bojangles was definitely right about the "smidgen of magic," because when Ailey opens his eyes, he's in Harlem. Harlem in 1939, to be exact.

Which happens to be when and where Grandpa lived and tapped when he was a boy. When and where his greatest regret began.

When Ailey finds a talented boy called Taps performing on the street, he knows that he must have been brought here to give him the encouragement he needs. But nothing seems to go right--Taps definitely isn't convinced that his future grandson has come from the future, Ailey has no idea how to persuade him to take up Bojangles' offer, and there's still the problem of how to get home.

But the two boys have more in common than being family. Taps can tap dance like he was born for it, and Ailey can come up with raps without even trying. On their own, neither quite has the nerve to get up on stage--but maybe together, they can push each other to change their stars.

Ailey and Taps' enthusiasm is infectious, and although I personally am not particularly interested in tap dance, I thoroughly enjoyed The Magic in Changing Your Stars! I liked the combination of time travel and family, and how Ailey meets many members of his family from a few generations back that he's heard stories about--and a few kids and teens he knows as adults from his own time. Every character is named after famous Black people from history, especially performers, and the book includes a list of all of the people mentioned along with a short blurb about their achievements, which was an excellent extra layer. The book itself also has lots of historical tidbits, and many readers might not be able to resist learning more about them! I would recommend The Magic in Changing Your Stars to readers ages eight and up looking for an amusing, engaging celebration of family, friendship, and the courage it takes to do your best. 

By Lina

Living in London with her father and aunts, Tally is perfectly content. But there is the war, of course, getting ever closer, and news of the Nazis every day in newspapers and on the wireless. Children are getting sent to the countryside to protect them from the coming air raids. Tally has no intention of leaving, but when her father gets the opportunity to send her to a boarding school in the country, he accepts, determined to keep her safe from the anticipated air raids on the city.

Tally does not want to go to boarding school--uniforms and field hockey and endless rules are the last things she wants to worry about, and she longs to stay with her family and friends. But when she arrives at Delderton, it turns out to be nothing like the schools she's read about in books. Students only go to classes if they want to, and the classes themselves are entirely different than she was expecting--drama and handicrafts and biology lessons in the woods are taught along with English and math. She meets children who dream of movie stars and revolutions and one with a pet axolotl. Instead of scolding and nagging, her housemother is writing a book about a German philosopher. And Tally begins to think that maybe, just maybe, Delderton is a place where she can be happy. 

Karil, crown prince of Bergania, has spent his whole life surrounded by royals and officials and ceremonies, and has never had friends or felt really free. He is destined to be king someday, but he's never found a place where he feels he truly belongs. And now, with the war close at hand and his father refusing to obey Hitler's orders, tensions at the royal court make things lonelier than ever. 

When Tally learns about the king of Bergania's daring stand against the Nazis, she moved by his courage and longs to visit his beautiful country. The opportunity arises when she learns of a youth folk dance festival that the country is hosting, and she gathers a group of students to choreograph a dance so that they can attend. There, she and the other students meet children from all over Europe, but for Tally, the closest friendship she forms is with someone who's not even supposed to speak to her--Karil, prince of Bergania.

Their friendship might be forbidden, but there are far more dangerous things occupying the minds of the country's leaders. And when Nazi forces infiltrate Bergania's government, it is up to Tally and her friends to help Karil escape to safety. 

Eva Ibbotson is one of my favorite writers, and this book completely lived up to my high expectations. Ibbotson grew up in Vienna, Austria, but fled during World War II as a child, and it's clear that she experienced many of the things described in The Dragonfly Pool--the descriptions and details she writes with have the feel not of careful research, but of personal experience. Her writing is beautiful, and the story is poignant and moving, but still has the characteristic humor and quirkiness which I've enjoyed in many of her other books. And Tally is a wonderful main character, caring and brave but still believable, and I loved the way her friendship with Karil develops. (I also appreciated the lack of romance--so many middle grade books with girls and boys who are friends focus on it, but in The Dragonfly Pool it's all but nonexistent.) I would highly recommend it to readers ages ten and up. 

By Lina

On her twelfth birthday, Nisha receives her first diary--a beautiful book where she feels she can record all of her thoughts and wonderings. She struggles to speak in front of anyone other than her family, especially her twin brother Amil, or Kazi, her family's beloved cook, who gave her the notebook. But when she writes, words flow onto the page, telling the story of the sudden changes which have begun in the world around her. 

India has been freed from British rule, but in the summer of 1947, things only seem to be getting more complicated. Before, it didn't seem to matter what religion people were, but suddenly there is talk of India becoming two countries--one for Muslims and one for Sikhs, Hindus, and all other Indians. Everyone is taking sides, from the country's leaders to the students at Nisha and Amil's schools. But the only side Nisha wants to be on is her family's--Amil, Kazi, Papa, and Dadi, her grandmother. 

Dadi and Papa are Hindu. Kazi is Muslim, and so was Nisha's mother, who died when she and Amil were born. So where in this new world does Nisha belong?

As tensions escalate and violence begins to break out in their neighborhood, Dadi, Papa, Nisha and Amil escape and begin the long journey away from what is now Pakistan, away from their Kazi and their bungalow and everything Nisha and Amil have ever known. They cross the desert to what is now the new India on foot, desperate for water and facing the growing tensions between refugees of all religions, escaping their old homes to places they have never seen. They find hardship and danger on their road, people filled with cruelty and some who have lost everything. But there is also unexpected kindness in those they encounter, and the hope for a better future.

Written in a series of letters to her mother, Nisha's journey is sometimes heartbreaking yet ultimately hopeful, and although it's historical, it explores many issues which are still relevant today. I don't always prefer reading books written in a diary format--it can be difficult to immerse oneself in the story--but I loved the way that Veera Hiranandani weaves the story through Nisha's letters to a mother she never really met. The relationships within her family are believably imperfect, yet the relatively small cast of characters clearly truly care about one another, and the harsh journey they make together helps to bring them closer together. The story also explores a piece of history that I can't believe I didn't know more about--according to the Author's Note, the journey in The Night Diary "is the largest mass migration in history." Although the story itself is fictional, it is inspired by the journey made by the author's father when he was young, and her vivid details and descriptions bring Nisha's world to life. The Night Diary is written for a middle-grade audience, but older readers will enjoy it as well (though they may find the ending slightly too happy to be completely realistic), and they may be inspired to learn more about the historical events it describes. Overall, I would recommend The Night Diary to readers ages ten and up.  

By Nico
​
As World War II progresses and bombs are dropped on London every night, thirteen-year-old Kenneth Sparks’ home become a war zone. Before long, he’s glad to leave on the SS City of Benares, a luxury ship chartered to bring ninety English children to Canada to escape the war. To Ken, the ship is like paradise. He has plenty to eat, a comfy bed to sleep in, and a room of toys to play with.

But when the City of Benares is torpedoed by German U-Boats, Ken and forty-five other children, passengers and sailors escape on Lifeboat 12. They have limited rations and even less water. As the days drag by and no land or rescue boat appears, Ken begins to wonder if they will simply die at sea.

Lifeboat 12 was historical fiction, but it was about real people and real events (and don’t worry—it does have a happy ending!). All the characters actually lived, and narrator Ken Sparks really was on Lifeboat 12. Parliament’s decision to send children to the British colonies is a little-known piece of history which I found quite interesting. Of course, Lifeboat 12 is fictionalized, but was firmly based in the accounts of survivors and newspapers.

When I first picked up Lifeboat 12, I didn’t know if I’d like it. I’m not usually a fan of historical fiction. However, this book pulled me in, and I think it would be a great book for fans of little-known history, like World War II’s Fly Girls. In the back of the book, Susan Hood also provides historical context which was quite interesting. At the same time, the book was written as fiction—in free verse poetry—so unlike many similar books, it was quite engaging. I recommend Lifeboat 12 to lovers of historical fiction ages ten and up. 

By guest contributor FalconX, age 12

Darleen is a twelve-year-old girl living in the early 1900s. Silent films are her family's business, and she stars in her own show: The Dangers of Darleen. Despite her age, she dangles off of cliffs, jumps from train car to train car, and flies off in mysterious hot air balloons.

​Although Darleen can pull off stunts with ease, is unafraid to be featured in theaters everywhere, and shows the world what a strong character she is, her heart lies with her father in their small farm house next to their family-owned film studio, Matchless. Her mother disappeared from her life when Darleen was younger, breaking the hearts of her daughter and husband. Darleen's mother was a tightrope performer, until she settled down with Darleen's father. But before the family had a long time together, Darleen's mother was gone due to inflamed lungs. Aunt Shirley and Uncles Charlie and Dan run the studio. Her father works in the laboratory developing the film.

Everything is going well, except their film studio needs more attention to rise above their competition. Aunt Shirley comes up with an idea to boost publicity. It's this: Darleen will get "kidnapped" at the grand opening of the brand new theater. Only, things don't go exactly as planned and Darleen ends up escaping a building, catching a snake, and finding out the dark secrets of someone she thought was a good person. She does this all with an orphan called Victorine, who is now her new friend. In the end, they thwart the villains, save the studio, and learn the truth about Darleen's strange dreams.

This charming historical fiction novel both educated about the world of early silent film and thrilled readers with the fast-paced adventure. Darleen thought she was only pretending to be Daring, but in the end, her unique skills saved everyone. I liked how there was a never-ending series of plot twists and discoveries that led to the eventual solution to the mystery. Although the ways of the 1900s were a bit different than now, Anne Nesbet still found strategies to make the story relatable and understandable. I would recommend this book to grades 4-8.

By Nico
​
Francie knows there are other worlds besides the one she’s grown up in. Like the big city over the river, where children don’t have to scavenge the streets to find trash to sell to the local junkman, and people have enough to eat. But what would it even be like to live there? All she’s ever known is life on the streets, where her hardworking mother can barely make enough to support her family: Francie, her mother, her younger brother Neely, and their occasionally working father, widely acknowledged as an alcoholic. The world beyond the ragged streets of Brooklyn is unreachable to Francie and the others who live in New York’s slums.

Francie dreams of visiting the city, although she knows it is impossible. There is little hope of leaving Brooklyn, even as her family gathers pennies in a milk can, imagining gathering a whole fifty dollars to buy their own land. She has a hard life, but she accepts it. A Tree Grows in Brooklyn is the story of how she grows up, overcoming hardships, finding work, learning the ways of that world and the one outside Brooklyn, too.

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn is a partially autobiographical account of the author’s life in Brooklyn, New York just after the turn of the twentieth century. It is an amazing, compelling, and beautiful story. I don’t often prefer historical fiction, but this book was unusual; instead of focusing on the times themselves, it highlighted what happened in them. Although outside events were mentioned, this is a personal story, one of the rare books which makes you feel like the character and live her world as she would have a hundred years ago. Francie is a strong and sympathetic protagonist. This book makes you not just love it, but feel it, too. It is one of those classics which has stood the test of time, remaining accessible and real to the modern reader. I would highly recommend A Tree Grows in Brooklyn to readers ages eleven and up.