By Super Kitty

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

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

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

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

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

By Piranha T.

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

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

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

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

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

By Piranha T.

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.

By Piranha T.

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

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

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

By Piranha T.

Molly Ayer, an orphan who lives with a foster family in Spruce Harbor, Maine, doesn’t feel like she’s wanted. She feels out of place among the kids at school, and with her foster parents at home. When she steals a book from the library, she’s told to do twenty hours of community service for repentance, and is assigned to Vivian Daly, a rich ninety-year-old woman who wants help sorting out her attic.
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Molly expects it to be a tedious task, but when Vivian begins reminiscing about her childhood, Molly learns about interesting pieces of history. Vivian was an orphan too. She was sent away from New York on one of the trains which distributed city orphans to families in the countryside who wanted a child, or simply an extra pair of hands. It’s a piece of history Molly has never heard about before—one that has shaped Vivian’s life.
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Orphan Train Girl was an interesting book, teaching a piece of history I didn’t know much about. The story alternated from past to present—between Molly and a younger Vivian—and in doing so, Christina Baker Cline narrated the stories of two different orphans in two different situations who were both searching for acceptance. I would recommend Orphan Train Girl to readers ages nine and up.

By Piranha T.

It’s been five years since ten-year-old Livy visited her grandma in Australia, so she doesn’t remember much. Sliding down the stairs. Watching the chickens. And when she sees her bedroom, she realizes she left something extremely important there—only she can’t remember what.

Then she meets Bob, a short green creature who can’t recall anything about himself. He’s been waiting for her in her closet since she left five years ago. Although Livy no longer remembers, she promised him that she’d help him find his way home. And now that they’ve met again, they’re determined to do just that.

Told in alternating chapters between Livy and Bob, Bob is a story about friendship with the feel of a modern fairytale. Livy and Bob, and their friendship, feels very real. This is a book with elements of both fantasy and realistic fiction, so I think it could be enjoyed by fans of either genre. I recommend Bob to readers ages seven and up. 

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

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

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

By Super Kitty

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

I will harbor you.
                                                                                                     - Excerpt from Harbor Me


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

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

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

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

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

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

There is nowhere in the world seventh grader Coco Hidden loves more than El Corazón, the bean-to-bar chocolate shop she and her mom run in her small Colorado hometown of Heartbeat Springs. Even when her best friend, Leo, stops talking to her, she can find reassurance in her favorite food: chocolate. Nothing in her world seems concrete, but she’s sure she’ll never lose El Corazón.

But then her mom tells her they’ll have to close the chocolate shop. Coco is certain that if she she’ll be able to save it if she can find a ceiba tree which has been haunting her dreams. But she’s never even left Colorado—how is she supposed to get to the Amazon rainforest?

Before long, Coco finds herself on an astonishing trip to the Ecuadorian Amazon with Leo and Gali Gallo, her elderly inventor-neighbor who has secrets of his own. But this small, unexpected bit of hope is deeply threatened. The jungle is being destroyed by loggers and oil-drillers who don’t consider the trees they’re cutting down or the ecosystems they’re destroying. Will Coco be able to find the ceiba tree and rescue El Corazón before it’s destroyed forever?

Tree of Dreams was an amazing book, simultaneously funny and deep. It confronts the damage being done to rainforests in a deeply relatable and unusual way—instead of feeling as though this was the reason Laura Resau wrote this book, it simply read like something which was drawn from it, in a very powerful way.
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However, you don’t have to be looking for that to love this book! Coco is a funny, relatable heroine with complicated relationships and a deep love of chocolate. The settings—particularly the rainforest—felt completely real to me. All in all, I would highly recommend Tree of Dreams to a wide range of readers ages nine and up: to people who love rainforest conservation, readers who love stories about kids and their adventures, and, of course, anyone who loves chocolate!

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.

By Piranha T.

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

By Super Kitty

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

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

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

By Contributing Reviewer FalconX, age 11

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

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

By Piranha T.

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

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

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