Fifteen-year-old Ronney hates explaining his identity to people interrogating his mixed-race appe... more Fifteen-year-old Ronney hates explaining his identity to people interrogating his mixed-race appearance, and he hates Thursdays. It was on a Thursday that his dad brought a gun home, and it was on another, two years ago, that his dad attempted suicide using that same gun. It’s again on a Thursday when a local exotic animal collector sets his animals free and then commits suicide, and the media, the authorities, and gun-rights, animal-rights, and gun-control activists all swarm small-town Makersville, Indiana. With lions, tigers, and more now roaming the streets, Ronney, already a bit of a cynic, begins to question both nature and his family situation. As his father refuses to take his medication and his mother copes via diving deep into hers, much of the caretaking of his sister and their home is left to Ronney alone; town-wide gun ownership increases in response to the maulings, and a general air of disquiet is palpable as gunshots endanger lives both human and animal. Those are provocative themes, and the detail of the escaped animals (based on a real event a few years ago in Ohio) adds a surreal touch, as wild animals lurk in the background of a story that’s squarely human. His parents’ adult-sized issues, his own teenage angst, and the care of a young child all find their way onto Ronney’s plate, and he struggles against turning cold to it all. While the conclusion (Ronney’s little sister puts an end to the madness by shooting a tiger and, accidentally, their father) is surprisingly neat for a story so worthwhile in its messiness, this is a fitting read for complicated times. WJ
with their favorite aunt, Effie, who lives near a real castle. Their adventures abroad take a shi... more with their favorite aunt, Effie, who lives near a real castle. Their adventures abroad take a shivery turn when they discover that Castle Cary is haunted by the shade of a ten-year-old girl who fell into a well, and a mother who mourned herself to death after her daughter died in an accident. When it becomes clear that both ghosts want the youngest sibling, Ariel, for themselves, Meg and Will devise a plan to distract the spirits from their little sister and onto each other for supernatural companionship. This is a suitable spooky story for readers easing their way into the genre; it includes a few age-appropriate jump scares but relies more heavily on the description to create an eerie vibe. Although this story takes its time getting to the ghostly fun, it is worth the wait, and once the adventure gets started, it keeps up the momentum all the way to the conclusion. An author’s note includes some information about the real Castle Cary. QB
Dubbed the Mighty Muskrats, cousins Sam, Otter, Atim, and Chickadee spend their days exploring th... more Dubbed the Mighty Muskrats, cousins Sam, Otter, Atim, and Chickadee spend their days exploring their Windy Lake reservation home and visiting various members of their First Nations community in this Canadian import from Cree author Hutchinson. When their police officer uncle starts investigating the disappearance of an archaeologist hired by a nearby mining company, the kids decide to do some sleuthing of their own, using their knowledge of the land and their access to local gossip as starting points. Meanwhile, their older cousin Denice has chained herself to one of the mooring posts at mining company’s pier in protest of their environmental abuses. While Denice’s social justice efforts never quite meet up with the mystery, the subplot does give an opportunity to familiarize readers with Indigenous/First Nations politics and the legacy of colonization in a direct, accessible fashion. The hunt for clues keeps the pages moving and a few red herrings keep it interesting, but the book also focuses on the kids’ finding of wisdom through both their own experience and the guidance of the elders of their community. Their makeshift fort in a rusted-out school bus has the appeal of the Boxcar Children’s titular boxcar, and in fact there’s overall an old-fashioned classic mystery feel along with a look at contemporary rez life in this first installment of a series. KQG
features a Black family in the rural Mississippi of the 1930s and thoughtfully explores this fami... more features a Black family in the rural Mississippi of the 1930s and thoughtfully explores this family's interiority in the face of economic depression and racial prejudice. In this second installment of the five-part saga following young Cassie Logan and her family, Taylor presents readers with the sorts of multi-generational and community-situated relationships that contribute to the development of ethical identity. Nine-year-old Cassie narrates a reliably transparent account of ethical decision-making across lines of race, economics, and age. From the beginning of the novel, as an already derelict school starts in late fall for Black children obliged to farming duties, to when the Logan farm is set ablaze in hopes of preventing a lynching of a young man at the novel's end, the critical evaluation of actions, policies, and even political identities is situated pointedly in terms of its child characters, readers, and their hard-earned education in racial injustice. That is, even as the story presents formal educators, business owners, community leaders, and friends as morally compromised by Jim Crow-era white supremacy, Taylor's novel suggests that young people remain indispensable to ethical work, both in theory and in praxis. Cassie and her first-person perspective are squarely placed at the core of this narrative work. As the Great Depression falls more heavily upon the four hundred acres of Logan land than it does the surrounding more than ten-square miles of white-owned plantations, readers experience the world Taylor imagines wholly through Cassie Logan's discerning eyes. As narrator, Cassie is also eavesdropper, overhearer, loyal sister, doting daughter, dutiful granddaughter, good student, budding activist, and adolescent curator of trans-generational histories-roles inseparable from her identity as a young Black woman inhabiting both a geopolitical space at odds with that identity and a family dedicated to affirming it. Early in the 1
When Mateo punches a classmate for no apparent reason on the school bus, it’s the first sign that... more When Mateo punches a classmate for no apparent reason on the school bus, it’s the first sign that mind-controlling alien leeches are invading Earth. Margot, the new kid, knows she has to help Mateo (who’s mostly just annoyed that the alien Margot removes from the back of his neck has ruined his vintage pink polo) to save West Cove and the world. Short chapters make for a brisk pace as Margot, a freestyle wrestling prodigy, and Mateo quickly piece together an alien mystery from the sudden appearance of a beached whale that’s made the whole town reek for days and the increasingly peculiar behavior of people around town. The genuine rapport the two middle-schoolers develop along the way gives this story a surprising amount of heart, and their friendship is strengthened by occasional bickering: Margot regularly calls out Mateo for his desperate people-pleasing and indecisiveness, and Mateo thinks Margot’s smart, tough loner routine is a snobbish defense. After seemingly putting an end t...
The day before the first anniversary of his sister’s death, Kirby and his friends Jake and PJ bre... more The day before the first anniversary of his sister’s death, Kirby and his friends Jake and PJ break onto a nearby farm and shoot some cows with Kool-Aid-filled Super Soakers, and then the next day at school, they have to deal with the repercussions, including some angry farm boys. PJ, a bit of an eccentric and an outlier Latino in this predominantly white town, is cornered in the bathroom, his arms stapled into surrendering the names of his partners in crime, while Kirby listens in a panic, hidden in a nearby stall. Jake, wielding his new gravity knife, is made of tougher, more unstable stuff, and this small-town beef escalates quickly into violent clashes that make Kirby deeply uncomfortable. Horner manages to capture the messy brutality that’s too often neglected in teen boy realism with detailed accounts of sucker punches and lunchroom brawls, but when otherwise mild-mannered Kirby, to conclude his convolutedly long day, explodes with fists a-swingin’ at the mere mention of his sister, logic goes by the wayside in order to force an emotional reward not really earned. Kirby still has a lot of work to do with regards to mourning and communicating his grief, but this novel offers readers an untidy form of catharsis that’s earnest and potentially relatable. WJ
Fifteen-year-old Ronney hates explaining his identity to people interrogating his mixed-race appe... more Fifteen-year-old Ronney hates explaining his identity to people interrogating his mixed-race appearance, and he hates Thursdays. It was on a Thursday that his dad brought a gun home, and it was on another, two years ago, that his dad attempted suicide using that same gun. It’s again on a Thursday when a local exotic animal collector sets his animals free and then commits suicide, and the media, the authorities, and gun-rights, animal-rights, and gun-control activists all swarm small-town Makersville, Indiana. With lions, tigers, and more now roaming the streets, Ronney, already a bit of a cynic, begins to question both nature and his family situation. As his father refuses to take his medication and his mother copes via diving deep into hers, much of the caretaking of his sister and their home is left to Ronney alone; town-wide gun ownership increases in response to the maulings, and a general air of disquiet is palpable as gunshots endanger lives both human and animal. Those are provocative themes, and the detail of the escaped animals (based on a real event a few years ago in Ohio) adds a surreal touch, as wild animals lurk in the background of a story that’s squarely human. His parents’ adult-sized issues, his own teenage angst, and the care of a young child all find their way onto Ronney’s plate, and he struggles against turning cold to it all. While the conclusion (Ronney’s little sister puts an end to the madness by shooting a tiger and, accidentally, their father) is surprisingly neat for a story so worthwhile in its messiness, this is a fitting read for complicated times. WJ
with their favorite aunt, Effie, who lives near a real castle. Their adventures abroad take a shi... more with their favorite aunt, Effie, who lives near a real castle. Their adventures abroad take a shivery turn when they discover that Castle Cary is haunted by the shade of a ten-year-old girl who fell into a well, and a mother who mourned herself to death after her daughter died in an accident. When it becomes clear that both ghosts want the youngest sibling, Ariel, for themselves, Meg and Will devise a plan to distract the spirits from their little sister and onto each other for supernatural companionship. This is a suitable spooky story for readers easing their way into the genre; it includes a few age-appropriate jump scares but relies more heavily on the description to create an eerie vibe. Although this story takes its time getting to the ghostly fun, it is worth the wait, and once the adventure gets started, it keeps up the momentum all the way to the conclusion. An author’s note includes some information about the real Castle Cary. QB
Dubbed the Mighty Muskrats, cousins Sam, Otter, Atim, and Chickadee spend their days exploring th... more Dubbed the Mighty Muskrats, cousins Sam, Otter, Atim, and Chickadee spend their days exploring their Windy Lake reservation home and visiting various members of their First Nations community in this Canadian import from Cree author Hutchinson. When their police officer uncle starts investigating the disappearance of an archaeologist hired by a nearby mining company, the kids decide to do some sleuthing of their own, using their knowledge of the land and their access to local gossip as starting points. Meanwhile, their older cousin Denice has chained herself to one of the mooring posts at mining company’s pier in protest of their environmental abuses. While Denice’s social justice efforts never quite meet up with the mystery, the subplot does give an opportunity to familiarize readers with Indigenous/First Nations politics and the legacy of colonization in a direct, accessible fashion. The hunt for clues keeps the pages moving and a few red herrings keep it interesting, but the book also focuses on the kids’ finding of wisdom through both their own experience and the guidance of the elders of their community. Their makeshift fort in a rusted-out school bus has the appeal of the Boxcar Children’s titular boxcar, and in fact there’s overall an old-fashioned classic mystery feel along with a look at contemporary rez life in this first installment of a series. KQG
features a Black family in the rural Mississippi of the 1930s and thoughtfully explores this fami... more features a Black family in the rural Mississippi of the 1930s and thoughtfully explores this family's interiority in the face of economic depression and racial prejudice. In this second installment of the five-part saga following young Cassie Logan and her family, Taylor presents readers with the sorts of multi-generational and community-situated relationships that contribute to the development of ethical identity. Nine-year-old Cassie narrates a reliably transparent account of ethical decision-making across lines of race, economics, and age. From the beginning of the novel, as an already derelict school starts in late fall for Black children obliged to farming duties, to when the Logan farm is set ablaze in hopes of preventing a lynching of a young man at the novel's end, the critical evaluation of actions, policies, and even political identities is situated pointedly in terms of its child characters, readers, and their hard-earned education in racial injustice. That is, even as the story presents formal educators, business owners, community leaders, and friends as morally compromised by Jim Crow-era white supremacy, Taylor's novel suggests that young people remain indispensable to ethical work, both in theory and in praxis. Cassie and her first-person perspective are squarely placed at the core of this narrative work. As the Great Depression falls more heavily upon the four hundred acres of Logan land than it does the surrounding more than ten-square miles of white-owned plantations, readers experience the world Taylor imagines wholly through Cassie Logan's discerning eyes. As narrator, Cassie is also eavesdropper, overhearer, loyal sister, doting daughter, dutiful granddaughter, good student, budding activist, and adolescent curator of trans-generational histories-roles inseparable from her identity as a young Black woman inhabiting both a geopolitical space at odds with that identity and a family dedicated to affirming it. Early in the 1
When Mateo punches a classmate for no apparent reason on the school bus, it’s the first sign that... more When Mateo punches a classmate for no apparent reason on the school bus, it’s the first sign that mind-controlling alien leeches are invading Earth. Margot, the new kid, knows she has to help Mateo (who’s mostly just annoyed that the alien Margot removes from the back of his neck has ruined his vintage pink polo) to save West Cove and the world. Short chapters make for a brisk pace as Margot, a freestyle wrestling prodigy, and Mateo quickly piece together an alien mystery from the sudden appearance of a beached whale that’s made the whole town reek for days and the increasingly peculiar behavior of people around town. The genuine rapport the two middle-schoolers develop along the way gives this story a surprising amount of heart, and their friendship is strengthened by occasional bickering: Margot regularly calls out Mateo for his desperate people-pleasing and indecisiveness, and Mateo thinks Margot’s smart, tough loner routine is a snobbish defense. After seemingly putting an end t...
The day before the first anniversary of his sister’s death, Kirby and his friends Jake and PJ bre... more The day before the first anniversary of his sister’s death, Kirby and his friends Jake and PJ break onto a nearby farm and shoot some cows with Kool-Aid-filled Super Soakers, and then the next day at school, they have to deal with the repercussions, including some angry farm boys. PJ, a bit of an eccentric and an outlier Latino in this predominantly white town, is cornered in the bathroom, his arms stapled into surrendering the names of his partners in crime, while Kirby listens in a panic, hidden in a nearby stall. Jake, wielding his new gravity knife, is made of tougher, more unstable stuff, and this small-town beef escalates quickly into violent clashes that make Kirby deeply uncomfortable. Horner manages to capture the messy brutality that’s too often neglected in teen boy realism with detailed accounts of sucker punches and lunchroom brawls, but when otherwise mild-mannered Kirby, to conclude his convolutedly long day, explodes with fists a-swingin’ at the mere mention of his sister, logic goes by the wayside in order to force an emotional reward not really earned. Kirby still has a lot of work to do with regards to mourning and communicating his grief, but this novel offers readers an untidy form of catharsis that’s earnest and potentially relatable. WJ
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