The co-authors—a pediatrician and a sports journalist—take a widely used metaphor to its limits. They use many elements of or situations common to the two related games as opportunities to lecture readers about the virtues of discipline consistency respect making good choices learning from mistakes staying positive and following rules. These are solid principles—but along with being largely expressed as slogans (“Give 110 Percent”) or platitudes they’re packed into short numbered entries that for all the boldface titling soon begin to run together. Moreover the baseball-bromide connection turns tenuous at times: “Switch-Hitting” for example cautions against reckless behavior; “The Check Swing” promotes the importance of keeping promises (“The more you check your swing the more likely you are to strike out with those depending on you”); and “First and Third” includes a warning about online scams. Even if the overall approach is upbeat these wearyingly earnest pep talks are unlikely to reach base. Although the co-authors directly address readers as “young adults like you” the tone of the writing is unlikely to appeal to contemporary teens: “The older kids at school may seem cool but some of their habits and behaviors may be better to avoid than to imitate.”

Plants make rain writes ecologist Gaudet author of The Pharaoh’s Treasure: The Origin of Paper and the Rise of Western Civilization (2018). Forty percent or more of precipitation over land originates through evaporation from plants and trees. When vegetation is cleared evaporation plummets seasons come later temperatures rise and rainfall diminishes. Ten thousand years ago the Sahara bloomed because the end of the last ice age—combined with changes in Earth’s axis—warmed the planet and increased rainfall. As the axis cycle continued temperatures continued to increase rainfall diminished and by 3000 years ago the Sahara had dried up. Greenhouse gases filling the atmosphere over the past century have interrupted the cycle which would ultimately have restored the Sahara but the accompanying disordered weather increased rainfall in northern Africa persuading some experts Gaudet included that reviving the Sahara is worth a try. The author embraces green technology and massive climate-altering projects arguing that these will jump-start the return of tolerable weather worldwide. Desalinizing has grown cheap enough to beget extensive desalinization plants in every Saharan nation for drinking water and irrigation. Egypt’s Qattara Depression has long fascinated engineers who propose a pipeline from the Mediterranean to create a huge inland sea to cool the desert and support a large population. Once huge Lake Chad is almost dry but a canal from the Congo River basin carrying water over a thousand miles could revive it. Money and politics are the only barriers. Gaudet mildly approves an ongoing mega-project—the Great Green Wall aiming to plant billions of trees across North Africa—but has more faith in a spreading practice among locals who have adopted farmer-managed natural regeneration that does not clear trees for crops but preserves and fosters them enriching the soil. His surprisingly nonapocalyptic conclusion adds that carbon dioxide nourishes plants and rising levels from global warming already produce significant greening of vegetation over much of the planet.

Frank Uwe Laysiepen (1943-2020) better known by the sobriquet Ulay was a German-born photographer and artist who in 1976 perpetrated one of the most audacious and celebrated art thefts in modern history albeit as an act of performance art. In this rather uneven account a triptych of that event principal author Charney attempts to place the theft Ulay’s career and his professional and personal relationship with fellow artist Abramović in the context of classical aesthetics and to assay whether the theft was in fact a crime at all since the painting in question was returned unharmed Ulay’s political and cultural statement having been made. Including brief meandering and alas leaden accounts by Ulay and Abramović themselves Charney an art historian and personal friend also makes a case for the “Berlin lifting” (as the theft was called) as an enduring work of art. Arguably Charney interprets aesthetic ideas to validate his judgment but he is not wholly convincing—or unbiased. It’s even debatable whether Ulay’s famous act was genuinely significant—outside a narrow rarefied slice of the art world. Ulay himself resisted calling it art preferring to call it an aktion (action) aimed at exposing the disconnect between what is revered as art and what is neglected in society such as the poor or marginalized as well as what Ulay saw as the suffocating institutionalization of art. That said Charney cannot be faulted for adding that the theft “gives us briefly a vision of what art can still dare to be: not just beautiful but bold dangerous and alive.” Yet the real strength of the book—a monograph actually—rests not in Charney’s championing of Ulay but in his wider historical and critical analysis.

This book part of a series that pairs authors with common objects and ideas views the ballot through a topical politically progressive lens. A novelist and poll worker Enjeti pens evocative opening pages linking her childhood participation in mock elections to her “reverence for the right to vote.” Another engaging chapter zips through the etymological social and technological history of ballots. Mostly though Enjeti is interested in the current state of the franchise recounting her experience supporting Democrats while living in Republican-heavy places. Her observations illustrate how voting has changed due to conservative-friendly court rulings and “an avalanche of voting restrictions” enacted after Donald Trump’s false claims about the 2020 election. Her local drop box was among those that Georgia eliminated in 2022 making it harder to cast absentee votes. Statewide Georgia made it illegal to offer refreshments to voters in line near polling places. Meanwhile gerrymandering has transformed her “very racially diverse and solidly Democratic” congressional district into “a very white and solidly Republican one.” The remedies Enjeti supports range from practical to quixotic. Voters seeking to reform criminal justice and protect immigrants can help by voting in relatively overlooked sheriff and district attorney elections. But overhauling the Senate so that not all states have two seats? This makes sense from a population standpoint but in the current political climate it’s a nonstarter. Enjeti’s account of the “dilemma” she faced in 2024—as a battleground state voter she opposed both Trump and the Democrats’ approach to the Gaza war—is relatable. But she’s not looking to please centrists with her characterization of Democratic presidential nominee Kamala Harris’ campaign. To her Harris’ “Republican warmongering imperialist brand”—her opposition of an arms embargo on Israel—was a big reason she lost to Trump.

Dante Nimrod Ferno who hails from the fiery-hot town of Brimstone and has horns like many other residents is about to enter Purg Middle School. Accidentally dropping his pants in the school cafeteria when he was 6 made him a laughingstock and thanks to his nemesis Phillip no one has forgotten the incident. Dante who’s cued neurodiverse has trouble focusing but he means well and wants to get along no matter how much teasing he gets from classmates like the cliquey unicorns. He does befriend a couple of nicer kids including Virgil a winged boy from the neighboring realm of Blisshaven who acts as an accomplice to many of Dante’s plots. Every page features an illustration that breaks up the text and varied fonts are frequently employed for emphasis adding to the visual interest. Gordon’s scribbly black-and-white art is lively and expressive. Dante’s maturing personality and better nature come through as he interacts with friends and demonstrates his mastery of comic book superhero lore. He doesn’t solve all the problems in his life but by the end of the book his confidence and self-esteem have a fighting chance. Readers will have to wait for the sequel in order to see how he fares from here.

This cross-genre memoir combines various storytelling techniques blending italicized dialogue and self-talk shape poetry and narrative prose. Duffy journals her divorce as a healing exercise beginning at the moment of realization that separation was the best course of action for her and her husband who was gay and ending in a post-divorce reflection. With an understanding that every divorce story unfolds differently the author notes that her circumstances required respect for her former partner honoring the love and the life they shared. This frame of mind admirably guided her through the divorce. Unlike many such stories the work confronts the grief pain and rage of ending a loving relationship but positively reframes the journey into one of personal growth and a belief in the guiding powers of the universe. Three sections entitled “exploding stars” “deep space” and “fusion” remain hopeful that the chaos of divorce will eventually result in order. For example in her poem “the tarot of the rings” Duffy writes of “the wheel of fortune / a direction that hangs in the balance” but later in “the tarot of new beginnings” she “tear[s] up” as the Sun card’s “immediate influence” confirms that she’s found “a new way to walk in the world.” Duffy’s care for her three children guides her as she teaches them affirmations and tries to channel negative emotions into positive pursuits: “Life went on. And in all of life’s tartness I made lemon squares” Duffy says. Instead of wallowing in heartache this revealing memoir openly discusses common experiences of “divorce culture” with wisdom and insight inviting others to listen to their inner voices and to share their own stories. Overall Duffy’s honesty and vulnerability resonate with emotional intensity as she tells of attending to daily life while trying to make sense of her experiences which remain relatable throughout.

Agriculture which is overwhelmingly dominated by the meat industry is growing so robustly that it will “wipe out all of the world’s forests and savannas” by 2050 reports Friedrich founder and president of the nonprofit Good Food Institute. Among the disasters already occurring are the pollution of lakes seas and oceans due to field runoff; the devastating decline of biodiversity; increasing zoonotic diseases and global pandemics; and the uncontrolled release of climate change-causing carbon. All told it takes nine calories of crops to make one calorie of chicken “a staggering amount of food to produce food” the author notes. But there is hope. Alternatives being developed include plant-based meat; cultivated meat using animal cells; and genetic engineering of meat proteins to bulk up other foods. Around 2020 a few countries including Singapore Israel and Japan began tackling this new endeavor including its biggest challenge: making such “alternative meats” taste exactly like real meat. So far this has not happened—and that is the only way such a paradigm-shifting market can take off. But the author who grew up in Oklahoma—“the land of cattle and steak houses”—makes many indisputable points. Cars replaced horse buggies shortly after their invention. Cell phones replaced landline phones shortly after their invention. Furthermore we once freaked out about “artificial ice”—“The natural ice industry branded artificial ice as impure unnatural and inferior”—and “artificial light” generated by Thomas Edison’s strange bulbs. But we got over it all. If the price—and the taste—is right we may—may—get over meatless Big Macs and lab-grown Whoppers.

Ignoring the party downstairs in her house Natalie listens to her husband cry across the hall and feels nothing but revulsion. It turns out that James has recently spent 20000 pounds of their savings including an inheritance from Nat’s grandmother that they’d intended to use for IVF. She confronts him; he claims he used the money to pay off his brother who’d been planning to blackmail Nat because of some letters they found that seemed to suggest she’d murdered several of her exes. Thus begins Darlington’s twisted twisty thriller. As revealed through a series of flashbacks three of Natalie’s former boyfriends—real pieces of work all of them—have ended up dead seemingly the victims of accidents or self-defense. Each time Nat suffered a blackout so she can’t remember actually pushing anyone or poisoning them or stabbing them with a kitchen knife. She does remember having fits of uncontrollable rage triggered by scenarios that echo her traumatic childhood. And James’ decision to pay away their life savings is certainly making her see red…Like many contemporary thrillers this one plays with a nonlinear timeline as well as a few different points of view; unlike some thriller writers while she certainly draws on tropes of the genre Darlington manages to include some genuine surprises weaving themes of mental illness and family trauma with a sense of mystery. At the center of it all is Natalie herself: flawed mistreated and distrustful but also strong. She and Darlington refuse to let bad men get away with doing bad things.

“I have always been intimidated by mothers” says A. the narrator of Bruni’s strange and fascinating second novel. Of an age where she’s contemplating settling down and starting a family she has a stable if somewhat meager life adjunct teaching a course called “Language Elective for Non-Native Speakers.” Then during some routine medical tests doctors discover a precancerous condition that they must treat by removing her reproductive organs. She loses her teaching gig during the long period of convalescence and when she heals she begins work as a caretaker for a young high-needs child. She also meets N. an immigrant with whom she dances away long nights in bars. One evening she comes across a book on N.’s shelf: Field Notes by Tomas Petritus a book of testimonies by the mothers of boys who have gone missing in an unnamed country. Written in N.’s native language the book tells the story of Mothers United an underground network of women who channel grief over their missing children into political activism designed to raise awareness and demand answers from their government. When A. gets a grant to translate Petritus’ book she travels to the town at its heart—“a town whose name has become synonymous in the national media with mass disappearances”—and learns that the book is not quite what it seems. In a fragmented braided style reminiscent of Jenny Offill’s Dept. of Speculation (2014) Bruni weaves together explorations of language borders and belonging as well as of the precarious and frequently terrifying state of motherhood. The result is a deeply intelligent prismatic look at the personal and political facets of maternal care.

Thomas Willing writes Vague author of The Paradox of Debt (2023) was America’s dominant merchant. Robert Morris the better-known “financier of the Revolution” was his employee and later his business partner. Willing was perhaps the richest man in the Colonies widely respected but colorless with few interests besides work. He protested British actions which hurt business but voted to oppose independence in 1776 although he later supported the war. Armies fight wars but money wins them and Vague points out that the only sources of ready money in the Colonies were rich men. Willing immediately accepted supply orders from the Congress a risky tactic because Congress was slow in paying—when it paid at all. In this unregulated free market profits could be spectacular but so were risks. Willing grew richer but others (Morris included) were ruined. Willing soon headed the nation’s first bank which helped finance the war yet victory left a huge debt. More than most scholars Vague emphasizes debt as a motivation for the 1787 Constitutional Convention and the Constitution as “a triumph for the money system advocated by the conservative elite.” President Washington’s approval of treasury secretary Hamilton’s plan to pay off the entire debt at full value produced widespread outrage because almost all was held by wealthy men and speculators who had bought it at a fraction of its value often from soldiers. Few historians praise Hamilton’s defense and Vague states bluntly that this was a corrupt bargain that benefited the wealthy and exerted a malign influence on subsequent American history. Appointed director of the First Bank of the United States Willing served for 15 of its 20-year existence remaining untouched by the fraud speculation bubbles and crashes that occurred while America’s GDP nearly tripled.

Following Scribners: Five Generations in Publishing (2023) Scribner offers 18 essays on literature art history and music. It’s easy to settle into them like a lush comfortable chair. Scribner writes that F. Scott Fitzgerald claimed “more of me than any living author.” Gatsby is “pure fiction and pure Fitzgerald: the hopeful romantic outsider looking in.” An art historian Scribner is excellent at discussing The Great Gatsby’s iconic cover painting Celestial Eyes by Francis Cugat. Among Scribner’s endearing recollections is an exchange between the author’s father and Ernest Hemingway: “My dad commented that at the age of eighteen months I had taken to pulling out all the books from the bottom shelves at home. Hemingway wrote back ‘What young Charlie is doing is trying to remove all the dead wood from publishing; make a note of it for his biographers.’” In one chapter Scribner riffs on the “five best books on family businesses” among them Robert Graves’ I Claudius (“the stuttering bookworm Claudius…survived to rule the business next since no one took him seriously enough to murder.”) and Mario Puzo’s The Godfather (“A family business need not be legal to thrive.”). In addition to sprightly chapters on singers Mary Costa and Frederica von Stade and masters Michelangelo Rubens and Velázquez Scribner ponders the story behind the making of Bernini’s 17th-century Cristo Vivo. It doesn’t hurt that he was able to buy the sculpture. He writes “In the dog days of August 1975 a month after starting my first job as an editorial assistant at Scribners I decided to reward myself extravagantly for my modest paychecks: I bought the Bernini crucifix….I liquidated some savings and arranged to have it shipped to the office. It arrived in a crate that looked like a small coffin much to the bemusement of my publishing colleagues.”

Grandpa is an artist who makes flutes whistles pot drums and other instruments while young Meadow assists. Clay Grandpa explains “comes from the body of our Earth” and “artists can turn it into song.” His most precious item is a hawk-shaped ocarina that his own grandfather gave him when he was a boy; its beautiful sound spurred the forest animals to dance. But during a harsh winter storm lightning strikes the barn that houses the art studio and it catches fire. The hawk ocarina disappears; Meadow imagines Red Fox taking it. It isn’t until Meadow finds a broken piece of the original hawk instrument that Grandpa is able to remake the heirloom so that its wondrous sounds can be heard once more. Hellner’s text has a lilt that matches its melodious subject matter as the author explains that because clay comes from the earth the instruments made from it are in turn rooted in nature. Both Meadow and Grandpa share a reverence for the art they create and the music that comes from it. Tous’ illustrations are a lovely complement featuring idyllic neatly composed scenes of grassland and mountains animals and streams. An especially noteworthy spread depicts the fire that devastates the barn snow whipping and flames blazing against a lightning sky. Meadow and Grandpa are light-skinned and dark-haired.

Jess Cole is struggling to find investors for her startup Wyst a company that focuses on women’s physical- and mental-health issues and access to care. She suspects the problem has more to do with the fact that she’s a woman rather than her business plans. To complicate matters she was previously at the heart of a workplace scandal when a colleague she was dating spread around intimate photos and the tech world has proven to be a rather small community. In a last-ditch effort to make her dreams come true Jess enters TechRumble a competition to fund budding startups—and convinces her twin brother Spencer to pose as the company’s founder while she goes undercover as Violet his assistant. While things start to look up for the future of Wyst Jess has a hard time reining Spencer in and she worries that he’s inadvertently jeopardizing everything by courting the competition judges with promises she can’t possibly fulfill. Oliver Kavanagh works as the assistant to the competition’s wealthy host. He and Jess (as Violet) bond rather quickly and cutely morph from friends to lovers. Working as his cousin’s assistant isn’t the career he wants and he eventually comes to realize what his professional dreams actually are. Jess’ deception hangs over the story as she’s potentially sabotaged the sole reason she entered TechRumble in the first place creating wonderful tension that drives most of the book’s momentum. Jess and Oliver’s romance is simply fine. It’s sweet but slow and Oliver lacks extra oomph as the leading man.

Subways are few and far between in North America but those who’ve ridden them find doing so a visceral experience—the close quarters and unique tableaux of subterranean travel. It’s a thrill a feast for the senses a uniquely strange assembly of people of all ages and many walks of life. Gladstone captures the unflagging ever-moving hum of a subway journey with the refrain of “my subway runs”—it runs under the city; it runs fast; it runs “straight out through the sky!” The train stops at Union Station (presumably in Toronto) where the brown-skinned young protagonist’s mother applies for jobs at the station’s many restaurants. Still the child knows the train runs even after the pair have disembarked even after the little one is fast asleep. In addition to evoking the little one’s affectionate ownership of this mode of transportation Gladstone aptly conveys the physical sensations of subway travel: the sounds of wind from the tunnels and screeching train wheels the crush of bodies as passengers shove their way on board. Pratt’s painterly illustrations expanding upon the experiences detailed in Gladstone’s text depict a rich parade of humanity: tall short impeccably dressed fast asleep aboard a busy train line—a vibrant vision of city life.

Givens a Harvard scholar and author (Fugitive Pedagogy: Carter G. Woodson and the Art of Black Teaching 2021) chronicles the 100-year history of Black History Month in his latest book. Initiated by educator and historian Woodson as Negro History Week in 1926 this February celebration grew into Black History Month in 1976 with a proclamation signed by President Gerald Ford. Givens traces the path of the month from its grassroots origins to its now-indelible position in American culture. In vivid prose that’s enlivened by personal reflections Givens examines how beginning generations ago teachers librarians writers and archivists pieced together limited resources to preserve the Black past and offer critical counternarratives to the celebratory nature of U.S. history. The author draws on archival documents speeches plays and other ephemera to demonstrate how engagement with the past was a critical part of the African American experience. Givens rightly emphasizes that those working to keep Black history alive have long been animated by a spirit of protest. “Recognizing the severe limitations of the dominant historical knowledge” he writes “African Americans created what the late historian Charles H. Wesley called a ‘heroic tradition’ of remembering history: They insisted on giving a black account of the past even when their interpretations additions and reconstructions of the past conflicted with those of people in positions of power; even when such knowledge of the past was deemed seditious by white Americans.” As Givens notes Black History Month is now celebrated around the world from Latin America to Europe. He writes “Gaining knowledge about the black past has been a contested activity for black people everywhere.” New challenges and opportunities await us. Givens writes “In an era of unprecedented access to information through technology and widespread competition for young people’s attention there is a continued need for tailored and immersive engagement in black memory work.” There is much history still to learn.

In New York City young Pok Morning is an excellent candidate for admission to any of the nation’s top medical schools all run by the Shepherd Organization all AI-centered and known as “The Prestigious Twelve.” A drone delivers the message: admission denied. Initially he blames his father for undermining his application. But Dr. Phelando Morning who takes the “grossly inefficient” humanistic approach to medicine is innocent and explains that there is a better way to become a doctor. When Phelando dies unexpectedly in a hospital his Memorandium—a temporary AI-generated version of himself—advises Pok to attend Hippocrates Medical Center in New Orleans the only med school in the country that refuses to use AI and may soon be the last human-run hospital. Pok believes “no residency in its right mind will accept me” if he goes there. But he gets an urgent warning to “get the fuck out of New York” because the lie is out that he poisoned his father. He has a rough time leaving as the states now have border controls but he winds up riding the rails to Louisiana at the suggestion of Jillian a woman he meets. Eventually they arrive in New Orleans a city protected by electromagnetic spires. There Pok is welcome. The story’s pace slows while he absorbs himself in his intense studies but the writing shows the author’s rich imagination. With bee populations drastically declining for example a company has bioengineered “Carve Bees” that produce medicinal honey. And there is Agrypnia or the Grips a sleeping sickness that makes people crazy. Odysseus Shepherd is a worthy half-human villain whose brain is filled with microchips. He wants to bring New Orleans into sync with the rest of the country because “human-led medicine is like having monkeys fly a plane.” Readers might blink at jargon like “enantiomer” which is a mirror-image molecule and may also describe the hero and the villain.

As the preface stresses the royal court of Henry VIII was “a dangerous place.” The job requirements for queen were exacting terminations frequent and not all applicants were volunteers. Each queen is briefly introduced with a page that includes a one-paragraph biography key dates and other concisely presented facts (dowries allies motto). The very readable text written in a conversational voice that makes the centuries vanish proceeds largely chronologically. A flashback written in present tense recounts a significant episode for each queen: Catherine of Aragon led an army into battle while pregnant; Katherine Parr managed to talk Henry out of a warrant for her arrest. Elaborate borders in the style of bejeweled Renaissance frames incorporate heraldic imagery; for the most part the art eschews gore though the section on Anne Boleyn concludes with an image of an executioner’s sword dripping with blood. The queens’ faces uniformly young and beautiful all resemble one another with slightly different coloring. Andrews poses the subjects with modern-day insouciance and takes mild liberties with the fashions of the period but for the most part depicts dress accurately. Occasionally adjacent aristocrats are shown with darker skin. A Tudor family tree illustrated with thumbnail portraits a timeline and a final spread on Henry’s important future-regnant children Edward VI Mary I and Elizabeth I clarify and continue the story of this powerful and vulnerable family.

As in her earlier book A Mischief of Mice (2024) many of Matheson’s group labels are lesser known: “a charm of goldfinches” “a bale of turtles” “a parcel of deer” “a kaleidoscope of butterflies” and “a banditry of chickadees.” These fascinating collectives are naturally integrated into a sweet story. When a rabbit goes missing the friendly local animals—among them “a scurry of squirrels” “an army of frogs” “a loveliness of ladybugs”—express concern. A sleuth of wise bears finally arrive with an explanation: She might be “busy feeding someone deep in that cozy nest.” And right on cue the mother rabbit arrives “leading a fluffle of bunnies.” The writing in large type and a readable font is clear and poetic with rhyming text but no rigid meter. The rhymes are sometimes slant or near: for instance shifty matched with swiftly. Matheson’s pastel watercolors are perfectly suited to her gentle text. Set against flat wallpaperlike florals the fauna are mostly realistic though sometimes they stand upright and strike human poses. Backmatter includes facts about the animals and notes a few additional nouns; for instance deer collectively can be called by the more common herd butterflies are also a swarm or flutter and swans are also a bevy a wedge (when in flight) and a bank (on land).

On one page a family enjoys milk and cookies together while on another a different child snuggles up as Grandma reads a story. Elsewhere others are missing loved ones like a sister away serving in the military or a caregiver working the late shift. “Some apartments and houses sit empty today”: One family has been displaced by natural disaster another is traveling and yet another welcomes a new baby at the hospital. Whether in a bed on a ship or by a tent families of all shapes and sizes can find comfort in the commonality of “a roof made of moonbeams and twinkling stars” as they say goodnight. Careful viewers will spy an owl soaring through the dark blue evening sky visiting these diverse families. The calming cool tones of Neal’s appealing illustrations paired with the Pauls’ soothing rhyming verse make this a lovely choice for a bedtime story. An especially stunning spread depicts the northern lights; throughout cozy comforts and loving embraces contribute to a warm and hopeful tone. Emphasizing love compassion and connection this story will be particularly comforting to children experiencing hardship.

It seems like an easy enough gig at first: Having accepted mighty London’s offer to peacefully ingest its invaluable collections of ancient books and artifacts the small city of Museion is poised to fire up its long-dormant engines and set out toward the planned rendezvous. But the journey quickly takes on a Mad Max quality. Hot pursuit by scruffy nomads riding roaring kampavans and the predatory segmented Experimental Suburb of Crawley (abetted by a traitorous insider) keeps fearless young Tamzin Pook one-armed cyborg warrior Eve Vespertine and their trio of companions on their toes. Reeve expertly raises the stakes while shepherding his rolling battle to a properly melodramatic climax at the high and dangerously rusted titular bridge. This follow-up to Thunder City (2024) features full measures of Reeve’s customary combination of violent action gruesome twists and sneaky sense of fun (a character’s throwaway “Fool of a Pook!” will elicit chuckles from Tolkien fans). Most main characters present white and Tamzin has olive skin and black hair.