It's All or Nothing, Vale will be released on February 11, 2025 (tomorrow!)

Nothing can stop Valentina Camacho, fencing champion. Not bad days or new competitors or whatever else the world throws at her—no, because Vale trains more, pushes herself further, and works harder than anyone else.

Nothing, that is, until the accident.

After months of physical therapy, Vale is finally cleared to fence again…but it feels as though the world has moved on without her. While she’s struggling to find the strength and stamina to execute once-simple maneuvers, her competitors have grown stronger, and better. And then there’s Mykra, a new fencer who might be better than Vale ever was.

Vale has only ever been a fencer. And that means she’ll do anything it takes to get back to where she used to be.

But what if that old Vale isn’t coming back?

​This was my first read by Andrea Beatriz Arango, but I know I’ll be checking out her other books immediately. This is one of the best free verse books I can recall reading, with the perfect balance of lyricism, authenticity, and uniqueness to make me fall in love with Vale’s story. This story—one of a middle-school champion struggling to find her identity after losing what she grounded herself in—is one I can’t recall seeing before but that I absolutely loved. Vale is so utterly relatable: determined, perfectionistic, self-sufficient, and yet ultimately incredibly vulnerable, I loved every beat of her voice and her story. The queer romance plotline here was also incredibly sweet, adding a light touch that made me smile. I truly can’t recommend It’s All or Nothing, Vale enough to readers ages ten and up—five extraordinarily well-deserved stars! 

ages 10+ / ARC / book group pick / fiction / friends / in verse / middle grade / realistic fiction / standalone / sports / LGBTQ+

Thank you to Random House Children's and NetGalley for providing an e-ARC in exchange for an honest review. All opinions expressed here are my own. 

Thank you to NetGalley for providing an e-ARC in exchange for an honest review! All opinions expressed here are my own.

Mallory in Full Color will be released on November 19, 2024.

Mallory is an expert on pretending. She’s so used to becoming whoever the people around her need her to be—the perfect daughter, the agreeing friend, the responsible older sister—that it’s no wonder she finds it so easy to put herself in the shoes of completely different characters in her anonymous online webcomic.

But it’s also exhausting—and when she starts skipping swim practice to attend the local library’s comic club, she can’t figure out how to be herself, especially when confronted with her new friend Noa, an effortlessly confident enby who Mallory can’t help but develop a crush on. If she’s as outgoing and self-assured as Noa, surely they’ll like her, too.

But when her webcomic goes viral and her classmates start guessing who its author is—and Mallory finds herself increasingly uncomfortable as the drag queen story hour she and Noa are planning is faced with mounting backlash—Mallory must decide: keep pretending to be someone she’s not to please everyone, or face the consequences for her lies and discover who she really is.

Despite a strong concept and story elements I typically enjoy—queer self-discovery, developing friendships, standing up against library bans, artsy protagonist—I failed to truly connect with the characters, storyline, and writing voice of Mallory in Full Color. Although I understood Mallory’s struggles with expressing herself around different people, it didn’t altogether ring true.

I think this was partially because the aspects of the setup which made me believe that Mallory acting in this way were truly necessary were virtually debunked by the end. For example, the conflict between her friends made me believe some of their friendships would fall apart if Mallory was authentic, and the anger they felt upon discovering Mallory’s comics about them was legit. However, the ease with which all of them accepted Mallory felt almost anticlimactic, making Mallory’s anxiety appear misplaced rather than legitimate. I appreciated the happy ending, but the book’s execution made it feel like a middle-grade friendship version of the infamous miscommunication trope.

That said, I think middle schoolers who are struggling with the same need to people please as Mallory will connect with her and find the ending reassuring rather than flat. Her introduction to Noa, who is nonbinary, and the backlash over drag queen story hours and other public library events also provided a thoughtful and realistic introduction to gender diversity and homophobic/transphobic attitudes.

In short, although I don’t think Mallory in Full Color will become a favorite of most outside of its target audience, I think it’ll both be enjoyed by and helpful for the middle schoolers it’s written for.

3.5 stars

Ash’s Cabin will be released on August 13, 2024.

Out in nature, surrounded by birdsong and the feeling of breeze on their bike, Ash feels at home. Everywhere else? They’re constantly bombarded by people who don’t understand them—their name, their pronouns, or just why they care so much about the planet not getting destroyed. When Ash remembers the cabin Grandpa Edwin talked about building, hidden away in the California woods for when he wanted to escape the monotony of modern life, it sounds like paradise.

So when Ash has a chance to run away and seek out Grandpa Edwin’s cabin themself, they seize it immediately. What could be better than surviving out on their own, unanchored from everything they can’t bear to live with? Ash is determined to find themself out in the wilderness, but survival might be more of a challenge than they expected.

The Prince and the Dressmaker, author-illustrator Jen Wang’s first graphic novel, is quite literally the book that made me start reading graphic novels, so I was truly thrilled when I got the chance to read an ARC of Wang’s upcoming book, Ash’s Cabin, through NetGalley. Although on the surface a very different storyline, Ash’s Cabin holds many of the same elements that made me love The Prince and the Dressmaker so much—a thoughtful storyline and beautiful art contained in a tale that leaves you feeling profoundly more at peace at its conclusion than when you started it.

It’s difficult to create a wilderness story that is at once modern and utterly believable, but Wang does so flawlessly, and Ash’s world absorbed me seemingly at once. Their struggles with the larger world and with their own sense of self feel fundamentally authentic and believable, and as I read, I effortlessly traveled with their thoughts and emotions, something I think is sometimes hard in the graphic novel format.

Ultimately, Ash’s Cabin is a beautiful, authentic, sometimes painful, and thoughtful story of growing up, finding yourself, and the natural world—one I truly can’t recommend enough to readers ages twelve and up.

Thank you to NetGalley and First Second Books for providing an e-ARC in exchange for an honest review! All opinions expressed here are my own.

By Nico

Homeschooler Shai has grown up with their struggling mom and their best friend, Mille. Life hasn’t always been easy, but their family and friends have supported them through everything, including coming out as genderfluid a few months ago.

But back when COVID started, Shai started picking at the hair on their arms—and even though lockdown is long over, they haven’t managed to stop. Luckily, they have a plan to break the habit: they’ll strike out and make a new normal for themself. A new normal that includes going to public school for the first time.

Their plan, though, doesn’t predict her entering as a ninth grader instead of an eighth grader when her test scores place her ahead. Or her growing distance from Mille as she gets to know new friends at school. Or a project that leaves them exploring their Jewish heritage for the first time.

As public school turns out to be a little more than Shai bargained for, they’ll have to find a normal for themself that’s not just new, but right, too.

I’ve loved every book A. J. Sass has written, and Just Shy of Ordinary is not just no exception—it might be my favorite yet! Thoughtful, authentic, and hopeful, this book quite literally feels like it’s about me a few years ago, and every inch of it rings true. Quiet but incredibly compelling, I particularly loved its exploration of identity and how different facets of our lives intersect to make us who we are.

A lot of middle-grade books, particularly those centered on evolving friendships, can feel a bit drama-prone, but this was the opposite, instead encapsulating the day-to-day challenges and changes of middle and high school with an impeccable and irresistible realism. I loved Shai; their anxiety, stubborn self-sufficiency, and reactions to public school made me instantly connect with them, and watching them grow and learn was so much fun. The feeling of change was so palpable in this book, and so were all the things it triggers—anxiety, uncertainty, struggles—but throughout it all the sense of hope ties together this story into something not just uplifting, but beautiful. I highly recommend Just Shy of Ordinary to readers ages ten and up, particularly those who love middle-grade realistic fiction or fell in love with Ana on the Edge. 

​Thank you to Caroline Huntoon and NetGalley for providing an e-arc in exchange for an honest review! This book comes out on May 7, 2024. 

Etta is Doolittle Middle School’s resident anti-everything girl—fiery, cynical, and green-haired, she’s far more likely to be watching her favorite horror movies or working on her application for Nova, the alternative high school she’s determined to get into next year, than reaching out to the new kid. Plus, after her longtime best friend, Marigold, stopped hanging out with her over the summer, Etta’s plan for eighth grade is basically to keep to herself.

But that’s before she meets Linus, who’s new to Doolittle after coming out as trans last year. He doesn’t want to stand out. Running for student council? That’s out of the question, particularly while Linus is trying to deal with his grandmother, who constantly messes up his name and pronouns.

Then Marigold makes a secret bet with Etta. To prove that Marigold isn’t as great as everyone thinks she is—and to improve her Nova application—Etta will get Linus elected to student council president. Sure, Etta has no campaigning experience, and Linus doesn’t know about the bet. But what could go wrong?

As Etta and Linus’s friendship develops and the bet’s stakes get even higher, Etta has to decide if beating Marigold is worth manipulating her new best friend—and if their friendship will survive the strain if she tells the truth.

I truly loved Linus and Etta Could Use a Win. Fast-paced, quirky, and unique, I will hands-down be rereading and recommending this book widely. Linus, Etta, and even Marigold could all easily have fallen into stereotypical, tropey characters, but instead they all quite literally shine; I particularly love Linus, whose relationships and struggles gave the story such dimensionality. The tension within his family over his grandmother rang so true, and the development of that plotline was one of my favorite parts of this book! I couldn’t stop reading this book, and I certainly didn’t want to—when it ended, I truly wished there were another hundred pages to go. I highly recommend Linus and Etta Could Use a Win to readers ages nine and up, particularly those who love queer middle grade books, friendship stories, and incredibly relatable characters.

By Nico

Rick knows Jeff will always be his best friend. After all, they’ve already been best friends for years, and Jeff is his favorite person to hang out with. Sure, sometimes Jeff says things that Rick isn’t totally comfortable with…but they’ll always be friends anyway. Right?

But everything seems to be changing when Rick enters middle school, particularly after he joins the Rainbow Spectrum club without telling Jeff and realizes he’s not the only person who his best friend’s words can hurt. Plus, as he’s getting to know his grandfather on the weekends, he’s wondering who he’d be without Jeff for the first time. Rick has to decide: will he keep going along with Jeff just to keep his life the same? Or will he stand up to him and be who he really is?

A sequel/companion book to Alex Gino’s novel Melissa, Rick is a thoughtful, relatable book about figuring out where you belong. Rick’s character was great—I loved how his developing understanding of himself and Jeff really powered this story, and his uncertainty felt relatable without becoming overdone. I was also glad to see the much-needed ace rep in t his story. Plus, seeing Melissa again after the conclusion of her own story felt incredibly heartwarming—watching her grow and thrive through another’s eyes made the conclusion to Melissa almost more satisfying. I recommend Rick to readers ages eight and up, particularly on audio. 

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

​On the ice, Mars is at home. Everywhere else, they have to deal with the realities of seventh grade, the recent death of their father, and the knowledge that they’ll never be able to tell him that they’re nonbinary. But when they’re skating, all of that disappears. Here, they’re free to be themself.

Of course, ice skating also requires competing in the girl’s division, something Mars barely considers until they’re challenged by another skater—the new skating partner of their best friend—to see if they can beat him in a real competition. That means Mars competing in the boy’s division, something that would be far less problematic if it didn’t mean keeping so many secrets.

As Mars’s plans to beat the other skater develop, they must reckon not just with their grief and strained friendships but also what it means to be nonbinary in a relentlessly binary world.

In the constant debate about trans kids in sports, particularly youth sports, nonbinary kids are too often forgotten entirely—so when I came across Skating on Mars, I immediately knew I had to check it out. It didn’t disappoint! Thoughtful, authentic, and fast-paced, this book delves into the complicated realities of being a nonbinary kid in sports today. I really liked Mars—their conflict and struggles felt utterly relatable, and I particularly liked the realism with which they interacted with the supporting cast. If you loved Ana on the Edge, or want a realistic fiction novel with the same defiant fire of Sir Callie and the Champions of Helston, definitely check this one out! I highly recommend Skating on Mars to readers ages ten and up. 

By Nico

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

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

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

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

By 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

​Bianca Torre is afraid of everything.

And not just normal phobias, either, like spiders and snakes (#2 and #25 on their ever-expanding list of fears). Also FEAR #39: MASCOTS. And #49: DYING BEFORE THE CONCLUSION OF ONE PIECE. Not to mention #11: TELLING MY PARENTS I’M A RAGING LESBIAN.

As an anxious birder questioning their gender identity, #6: INITATING CONVERSATION has mostly kept Bianca’s social life on hold. Besides hanging out with their anime-obsessed neighbor, Anderson, their outside interactions are limited to spying on neighbors with their birding telescope and weekly hikes with a local birding group, where they’ve developed an accidental crush on Elaine Yee, the newest member of the group (#13: BEAUTIFUL GIRLS).

All that changes when Bianca watches a neighbor get murdered through their telescope—a murder the police claim was a suicide. Bianca is certain they owe it to the stranger to learn what really happened, but there are a few problems. Like #5: DEAD BODIES. Or the threatening dead birds left in front of their house.

The man was investigating something, or someone—and he got murdered for getting too close to the truth. And now Bianca, along with Anderson and Elaine, has been pulled into the investigation, too.

Bianca Torre is left with a terrifying ultimatum: get to the bottom of things, fast—or become the murderers’ next victim.

As soon as I read the description of Bianca Torre is Afraid of Everything, I knew it was exactly the kind of book I would like. I was wrong: I didn’t like it. I loved it. This book has everything I possibly hoped for and more: murderers in plague masks, queer anxiety rep, school theater productions, geeky friendships, clever humor, birdwatching, budding romance, and lesbian sheep. Hands-down, this will be one of my favorite reads of 2023.

Bianca was an amazing protagonist. Despite their long list of fears—or maybe in part because of them—their voice and sense of humor are impeccable, yanking me into their life from the very first page. I rarely encounter such incredibly complex protagonists, or ones I connect with so deeply, but Bianca effortlessly fulfils both of these. If you love character-driven, deeply relatable characters, this is definitely a book for you!

​But Bianca isn’t the only reason I fell in love with this story. Every detail of Bianca Torre is Afraid of Everything is excellent, from the quirky and weird minor characters and Bianca’s murder investigation to the theatrical interests of their mom and older sister. Whether you love twisty plots, witty writing, or fabulous characters, I highly recommend Bianca Torre is Afraid of Everything to readers ages twelve and up. 

By Ella

Kai does not want to go to summer camp. E doesn’t see the point—after all, even with the incident that left eir arm in a sling a few weeks ago, e doesn’t think that going away to summer camp is going to fix anything. Kai just wants to hang out with eir friends at home. But no: eir parents are sure that sending em to a summer camp decked out in rainbows and pride flags will fix everything, and so, reluctantly, Kai packs eir bags.

Abigail can’t think of a way she’d rather spend her summer then at Camp QUILTBAG. A summer camp full of other LGBTQ+ teens sounds perfect…especially after the humiliating coming-out-gone-wrong that’s left her an outcast from her longtime friends. But she can’t help but feel a little out of place surrounded by all these kids who know exactly who they are, when this is the first time Abigail has been able to talk about who she likes without risking outright rejection.

Kai and Abigail might be unlikely friends, but soon after arriving at Camp QUILTBAG, they make a pact to help each other. Kai will help Abigail be more confident, and Abigail will help Kai’s group win the highly competitive camp-wide competition. Along the way, Abigail and Kai will both make friends and find their place at Camp QUILTBAG—and learn more about themselves, too.

​Camp QUILTBAG is a fun, quirky middle-grade novel perfect for anyone looking for a lighthearted and thoughtful summery read. I really liked all the characters—although Kai and Abigail were particularly awesome, there were so many more minor characters who felt equally developed and interesting (I particularly liked Oren and Juliana). The ways they interacted and found common ground truly formed the backbone of this story, and the relationships in Camp QUILTBAG were some of the highlights for me. I highly recommend Camp QUILTBAG to readers ages eight and up, particularly those who like inclusive middle-grade and summertime reads. 

P.S. If you like Camp QUILTBAG, check out our interview with coauthor A. J. Sass about his first book, Ana on the Edge! 

By Ella

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

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

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

By Ella

Ellen likes everything to be organized and planned out ahead. And thanks to her parents and her best friend, Laurel, that’s never been a problem, just like it’s never been a big deal that she likes girls and is autistic. But lately, Laurel has been spending less and less time with her, and Ellen isn’t sure what to do. The class trip to Barcelona seems like the perfect time to reconnect with her best friend.

But Ellen’s careful plans go awry almost immediately. Laurel hangs out with her new friends instead of Ellen, and even though she invites her to hang out, Ellen feels out of place with the other girls. A new nonbinary classmate who Ellen can’t help but like leaves her questioning the categories she’s always used to think about the world. And on top of it all, the trip’s schedule turns out completely differently than Ellen expected when they get separated into teams to go on a treasure hunt across Barcelona—and Laurel isn’t on Ellen’s team.

This summer won’t be anything like Ellen expected, but maybe she’ll be able to find somewhere new she belongs—and discover a few things about herself, too.

​Thoughtful, sensitive, and engrossing, I loved Ellen Outside the Lines. A. J. Sass’s debut, Ana on the Edge, was one of my absolute favorites last year, and Ellen Outside the Lines fully lived up to the expectations that book set. Ellen was an awesome protagonist—her voice was so strong throughout the novel, and her questions and struggles felt utterly familiar and sympathetic. I loved the setting, too, particularly as Ellen and her friends explored Barcelona; the vivid descriptions and sprinkling of Spanish and Catalan made me feel as though I was walking the streets right beside her. Sweet, relatable, and exciting, I highly recommend Ellen Outside the Lines to readers ages nine and up. 

By Ella

The snowstorm of a century has hit Atlanta. Every radio station and TV channel is advising everyone to stay home. But for Stevie, staying home is not ​an option--not when tonight is her last chance to apologize to her girlfriend, Sola, and show her how much she means to her. And she's not going to be able to pull off something this big on her own. 

Told through a set of overlapping, intertwining stories, Whiteout is the story of Stevie and her friends' attempt to reunite her and Sola in a way so big, so meaningful, that she won't be able to help but forgive her--and each of them falling in love along the way. 

​I don't usually read romance novels, but I love short stories, particularly intercon-nected ones, and so I couldn't resist Whiteout​! It didn't disappoint. With each chapter a mini-story centering around a different character's role in Stevie's grand plan (and each character written by a different one of the book's authors), every character's tale felt different and unique, offering a different angle and layer of storytelling which led to a book which felt well-rounded, unique, and satisfying. Although I liked all of the characters, Stevie was definitely a favorite, whose love of science, sometimes painful flaws, and determination helped make her a protagonist I was committed to seeing succeed. I recommend Whiteout to readers ages twelve and up who enjoy romance or interconnected short stories.