​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! 

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[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
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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

The Sunbearer Trials occur once every decade to renew the sacrifice the sun made centuries ago and keep the selfish, power-hungry Obsidian gods at bay. Ten talented semidioses are selected to compete for twin honors: the winner, to carry the sun’s light across the land; and the loser, to sacrifice themself to keep the sun shining. The winner is always the child of one of the Gold dioses, who train all their lives for the Sunbearer Trials and live far removed from the humans they protect. When Jade semidioses like Teo are chosen, they’re practically considered a shoo-in for the sacrifice. 

Teo isn’t exactly looking forward to watching the Sunbearer Trials—he sees them as yet another way for the Golds to show off their superiority. Plus, it seems all too likely that the only Gold he likes—his best friend, Niya—is going to be chosen for the Trials, and he can’t quite reassure himself that she won’t become the sacrifice. 

It’s the last thing he’s expecting when he’s chosen for the Sunbearer Trials himself. 

Now, Teo must race against privileged Golds—including his ex-best friend, Aurelio, who everyone thinks will become the next Sunbearer—for glory, fame, and simply survival. And even with his fellow competitors Niya and Xiu, another Jade, on his side, the chances of one of them becoming the sacrifice seems higher with every passing trial. 

As the trials seem determined to not go according to plan and Teo realizes that every outcome will be painful, he has to fight harder than ever for the survival of him and his friends—no matter how noble losing might be. 

I've wanted to read Cemetery Boys, Aiden Thomas's debut, since it first came out, but somehow I found myself picking up The Sunbearer Trials first--and I'm so glad I did. I absolutely loved it. From the first page, I felt utterly absorbed in the setting; although complex, it never became too complicated or confusing, instead adding atmosphere and a beautifully queernormative society that only made this book an even more amazing read. Teo is such an incredibly relatable, funny, and deep character who I truly would follow wherever the story goes next; his struggles, decisions, relationships, and determination are both believable and inescapably realistic, and he's the kind of hero I feel like I don't see often enough. This book also features one of the most distinct secondary casts I can remember reading recently--there are about half a dozen competitors (and quite a number of gods) who aren't one of the principal characters, and yet their motivations, personalities, and relationships are so extraordinarily vibrant, distinct, and well-defined that they all very well could have been. Although there are many familiar fantastical threads that run through The Sunbearer Trials, Thomas turns every one of them into something unique and distinct, and I was constantly surprised by twists and turns of the story, turning it into something I hadn't expected but couldn't help but love. I highly recommend The Sunbearer Trials to readers ages twelve and up, particularly those who love LGBTQ fantasy and strong, distinct 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

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 Lina

Natasha Koskinen is going to survive. It doesn't matter that another Flood is coming, the ten mystical storms that precipitate its arrival like the tick of a clock. She's done it before--the orphaned daughter of a disgraced flyer who died too young made her way into the Royal Flyers, the elite aerial acrobat troupe considered the crowning pride of the city, then worked her way to becoming principle flyer. She has fought tooth and nail for a place in a city where she once had no one left. So when she learns that the flyers have lost their once-guaranteed place on the ships the crown is building to survive the Flood, she's aghast--but knows immediately that she'll do whatever it takes to get her and her flyers on one of those ships. Even if the only way is courting the enigmatic Prince Nikolai is himself. 

Ella Neves is going to die. (No, don't worry--she doesn't mind.) She doesn't know exactly how--a palace guard's sword? rotting in the royal dungeon?--but she knows that once she makes it into the Flyers' troupe, she'll gain close proximity to the crown prince, make a plan, and then Nikolai is going to pay, blood for blood, for the life of the girl that once meant the world to her. No matter the cost. Anyway, there'll be no one left to mourn her.

Ella's target is Natasha's only shot at survival. But as the Flood gets closer, so do the two flyers. And as the waters rise and their city begins to fracture with political conflicts and popular resistance, Ella realizes that maybe there's more to life than revenge. And Natasha begins to understand that being dead set on survival might be preventing her from ever really living at all. 

Evocative, atmospheric, and thoughtful, Girls at the Edge of the World has quickly become one of my all-time favorite fantasy novels. Bright, multifaceted characters, luminous worldbuilding, and a deft philosophical undercurrent make it a standout--at once a story of struggling, shining girls in a darkening world, a defiant queer romance, and an ode to living life to the fullest and the things that make it worth living at all. It's a fast read, the writing light but deft, and while there are familiar elements to the storyline, the plot and characters feel fresh and original, dodging clichés with unexpected twists and a distinctly witty, thoughtful narrative. It's also a piercing, contemplative look at heteropatriarchy, religion, colonialism, and how economic and class divides are displayed and exacerbated by climate change--all without being remotely preachy or contrived. I especially loved the flyers themselves, a blend of art and athletics, stardom and symbolism constantly training to bring the city together and earn their own survival; there's believable competitiveness and drive within the troupe, but also fierce loyalty and palpable caring between its members. I would highly recommend Girls at the Edge of the World to readers ages twelve and up; it's an excellent pick for book clubs as well. 

​By Ella
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The last thing twelve-year-old Flick expects when she moves to the village of Little Wyverns--a far cry from the city life she's grown up with--is a travel agency. And not just any travel agency. Strangeworlds isn't the kind that brings you to the places Flick has always dreamed of going: other continents, countries, cities. Once you've joined the mysterious Strangeworlds Society, you can travel through portals hidden in suitcases into other worlds.

At first, Flick is dubious. After all, if magic were truly real, wouldn't everyone know? But then the Strangeworld Travel Agency's young Head Custodian, Jonathan, shows her some of the other worlds. And Flick discovers, to her astonishment and delight, that it's all true. There are worlds out there--nonsensical worlds filled with eerie forests, scorched deserts, and the most peculiar of impossibilities. Worlds which she can now step into.

And she's going to, because Jonathan needs her help. His father disappeared into one of the suitcases months ago, and he needs Flick's help to find him.

Together, Flick and Jonathan set out on a journey leaping from world to world. But something has been happening to the different places they visit. Things have been changing. And it's up to Jonathan and Flick to figure out what--even as she realizes that all is not as it seems.

Strangeworlds Travel Agency is a fun fantasy novel with the quirky, almost old-fashioned tone of books like The Emerald Atlas and The Box and the Dragonfly. It effortlessly leaps between the modern day and the strangest of strange worlds, carried by two characters--Flick and Jonathan--who make that leap just as effectively, never seeming jarred or out of place in either setting. No matter what Flick does at the travel agency or in other worlds, it always feels natural when she returns home to her irritating younger brother and unpacking moving boxes. I also love the worlds Flick and Jonathan travel into, which are varied, mysterious, and often completely unexpected--they truly made this book come alive. I recommend Strangeworlds Travel Agency to readers ages nine and up looking for immersive, likable fantasy novels.

By Piranha T.
 
For Rahul Kapoor, the beginning of seventh grade isn’t looking good. Yes, it will mean he’ll be able to see his best friend Chelsea even more regularly than he has over the summer. But he’ll also be at the mercy of bullies like Brent, who make fun of him for being Indian American. When he talks to his grandfather, Bhai, a week into the school year, he gives Rahul a piece of advice: find something, and become the best at it. Then nobody will be able to stop him.

No matter how hard Rahul tries, though, none of the activities he tries are quite right—until one of his teachers convinces him to join the Mathletes. Although he’s always dismissed its members as nerds, he begins to realize that math really can be fun. But what if he still can’t become ‘the best at it’? And even if it can, will it really help him figure out who he is?

The Best at It is an awesome, deeply relatable realistic fiction novel. Rahul is an incredibly sympathetic and real protagonist—his journey to accept all the parts of who he is really resonated with me, and I think it would with most middle schoolers, too. I highly recommend The Best at It to readers ages ten and up. 

By Piranha T.

Rowan writes letters and sets them free on balloons.

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

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

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

By SK

Aspiring writer Jo March is excited to start eighth grade, but she's also unsure what the year is going to bring--how might she have changed by the time school is over? After all, she feels like a much different "J" than she was last year. But with her sisters Meg, Beth, and Amy at her side, she knows she can face anything--even if Amy is irritating sometimes. 

And the year does turn out to be a good one. The four sisters have fun creating Halloween costumes, decorating hospital rooms for the holidays with their mom, Marmee, telling ghost stories, and more--even if worries about their dad, who's deployed overseas, and Beth, who's in remission, are always present. And when their neighbor's grandson Laurie moves in partway through the school year, they quickly discover a new friend to include in their adventures. Jo is even recruited for her school's newspaper club by a girl named Freddie, where she hones her writing skills and meets other writers. 

Jo and Freddie bond over their shared love of writing, and Jo begins to realize that she's attracted to her new friend, which feels....confusing. Things are made even more so when Laurie tells Jo that he likes her--she doesn't want to ruin their friendship, but she knows she simply isn't attracted to him. 

Jo's family has always been close and supportive--but will they treat Jo differently if she tells them she's gay? What if her world does change this year after all? And is change necessarily a bad thing?

There have been many adaptations of Little Women over the years, but while I was at first a bit dubious about the idea of having a version set in the modern day, I ended up really enjoying Jo. The characters are distinct, realistic, and relatable, and I really appreciated how Gros deftly makes them believable modern kids while staying true to Lousia May Alcott's original characters (I especially liked Jo, a talented budding writer and caring, loyal sister who's determined to be her true self). Similarly, many of the themes and story threads from Little Women are included, but their transposition into the current day feels natural and not at all jarring. I don't read graphic novels too often, but I quite enjoyed this one, and would recommend it to readers who usually read traditionally formatted books as well as graphic novel fans. I read it in a book group where we compared and discussed several different versions of Little Women (both books and movies), which was super interesting--I would highly recommend doing so to other book groups! Jo is an excellent pick for readers ages nine and up looking for a fast, fun, satisfying read. 

 By Piranha T.

There are plenty of ways that Zenobia July is different from her fellow students when she starts Monarch Middle School. Her skills at tech, for example, developed over long days sitting at home when her father wouldn’t let her leave the house. The fact that she’s not living with her parents but with her two eccentric aunts. Or that although Zen was born a boy, in her new home in Maine, she’s been able to transition publicly to the girl she’s always been inside. Despite all the hardships she’s faced, though, Zen finds new challenges in middle school—girls who make fun of her, a boy who despises her for her skill at technology, and the constant fear that someone will learn she’s transgender. The only comforts lie in Arli, a self-proclaimed word geek, and the familiar riddles of Cyberlandium.

Then the school website is hacked, and it changes everything. Because although Zen knows she can find who did it, she’s also aware that success may not make her popular with her classmates. And as she delves deeper into the mystery, it makes her question the place she’s started to find for herself at Monarch Middle School.

It’s a multilayered puzzle which requires both cyber skills and determination. And Zenobia July may be the only one who can stop it before the hacker strikes again.

Zenobia July is an amazing book, one I’m so glad I’ve read. It’s the tale of a transgender girl figuring out who she is and navigating an unfamiliar world, but it’s also a cyber mystery with a strong friendship storyline. Lisa Bunker creates a many-layered, real story with an interesting, engaging plot. Her characters were well-drawn and unique, and every part of the story felt natural and smooth. To readers ages ten and up who like mysteries or books with diverse protagonists, I highly recommend Zenobia July.

By Contributing Reviewer FalconX, Age 11

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She wants to be Charlotte.       

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

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