“Four acres steel fence two warehouses three forklifts one-thousand cars and a junkyard dog”; for the temperamental uneducated Harry Saunders his new wrecking yard in the desert was an empire to command. His 9-year-old daughter Robyn wrenched from suburban life in Laguna Beach California warmed up to it more slowly. She began working the junkyard counter as a tween operating phone lines and locating parts despite knowing little about cars. Robyn was befriended by a rough posse of men and Harry even let her drive a forklift once. But her little brother Ryan failed to thrive—he was savaged by the resident pack of guard dogs as a small child and later bonded with the ever-present tweakers selling scrap metal for meth funds. When the teenage Robyn salvaged a battered but stylish 1983 Honda Civic her world opened. She listened to cool music on the radio and visited the ocean instead of attending school; away from the junkyard’s chaotic orbit she explored a more creative path. But as the business lost money her father became increasingly aggrieved Ryan veered off course and Robyn discovered that she could never fully escape her past. Saunders Wilson’s “memoirella” is brief but even when lightly touching on subjects like familial sexual abuse and drug addiction her story has impact. The author’s examination of her family and community grants grace and understanding to all. At restaurants Harry harassed waitstaff and the wrong word could cause him to flip over the dinner table at home—but his savagery obscured the early wound of abandonment. Ryan is a nemesis but also a confidant wilding out with Robyn through the night and eating biscuits and gravy with her at dawn. The setting plays a pivotal role: Robyn left a safe “walled fortress” for a land of “misshapen” houses where the sky loses its “coastal blue tint” and nature—in the form of the Pacific Ocean and Cal State San Bernardino’s forests—helped enable Robyn’s eventual escape.

The table is where this loving Black family enjoys the first meal of the day; it’s where the children do homework and make cookies and where everyone prepares for fish fry Fridays. Extended family shares space here during somber moments such as deaths and on happier occasions including birthdays Kwanzaa and other holidays. Grandpa regales the young protagonist (who narrates) with stories of Mom and Dad’s past as the child listens intently. And when it’s time for Mom to braid the youngster’s hair this too happens at the table. “The process is exhausting for both of us and I sometimes struggle to sit still” but “when she is finished I feel so pretty—and thankful that it’s done.” In her authorial debut Washington relies on the cut-paper collage technique that won her a Caldecott Honor for Choosing Brave (2022) written by Angela Joy. Her images boast bright colors rich textures (the grain of the wooden table is particularly eye-catching) and a level of detail so intricate it’s hard to believe the artist relied on cut paper alone. Her straightforward prose often ripples across the page conveying warmth and visual verve. Photos of Washington’s own family table close out the work.

On the title page a pale-skinned adult clothed in colorful garb stands among a grayscale forest. As the main text starts the adult—now aged but wearing a similar outfit—walks with a youngster apparently a grandchild. Observing and enjoying the vibrant lush natural world around them the narrator reflects on the different places the family has hailed from and paths they’ve taken “in search of the perfect place / To put down our roots / And call home.” Over a few page turns the child (revealed to be the book’s narrator) has grown to adulthood and donning the elder’s satchel explores the forest with the next generation. “I grew here. // This is my community.” As the narrator’s children (who present East Asian like the narrator) swing among the trees and explore the forest our narrator considers the past present and future. With spare but lyrical text Awan’s story celebrates a forest’s transformation and that of a family over generations. Jomepour Bell’s careful illustrations reveal the passage of time: what has changed (a single fox seen earlier eventually is depicted with two kits a butterfly emerges from its chrysalis) and what remains: home and the vibrancy of the forest. The bright visual details reinforce the themes of belonging and time and reward attentive reading.

“The work of leadership isn’t just about building organizations” writes Grossman; “it’s about building people who then create something extraordinary together.” Drawing on the “collective wisdom” of his clients and colleagues in the business sector as well as data amassed by the Harris Poll on behalf of his consulting agency the author argues that the most effective modern leaders balance “emotional intelligence with analytical thinking.” In other words they combine an empathetic encouraging approach with strategic thinking focused on efficiency. While the book’s ample selection of anecdotes from CEOs across numerous businesses lend a personal touch to the work what stands out most is the poll data taken from more than 2000 employees. This research indicates the persistence of antiquated “command-and-control” leadership styles with only one-third of employees willing to call their organization’s leadership “exceptional.” Grossman convincingly uses the Harris Poll data to identify six traits characteristic of exceptional leaders and devotes an entire chapter to each including leading with gratitude fostering an inclusive culture and “communicat[ing] with context.” (The author reports that leaders designated exceptional by their employees were more than seven times more effective at “adjusting their communication to meet employee needs.”) Grossman conveys his research-backed claims in an enthusiastic writing style that makes for an absorbing read rich with real-world examples and commentary from the author’s corporate cohorts. The book boasts a wealth of visual elements such as colorful fonts and high-resolution full-color illustrations diagrams and photographs; occasionally the work feels like a stimulating collection of streamlined infographics. It also reads at times like an extended advertisement for the author’s consulting agency the Grossman Group since the text is full of trademarked phrases references to the author’s other books and QR codes linked to additional products and services.

Zoffness a clinical psychologist here debunks many common beliefs about pain—those held by the general public and doctors alike. For starters Zoffness bemoans that “for a variety of reasons many to do with our profit-driven healthcare system pain medicine remains rooted in the antiquated biomedical model. We continue to be treated as disconnected body parts despite being housed in one hyperconnected body.” Pain she writes is too often viewed as a symptom of some other pathology rather than a condition in its own right. The overarching theme of the book is that the sensation of pain especially pain that endures is influenced by psychological and social factors in addition to widely accepted biological aspects. Zoffness notes that roughly “1.9 billion people around the globe currently live with chronic pain 100 million in the US alone.” She adds that “pain costs the US $635 billion annually in medical costs and lost work productivity.” Practitioners prescribe treatments that might sound alternative or even woo-woo such as breathing exercises and mindfulness. The hard part the author admits is convincing her patients—and here her readers—that connecting physical symptoms with emotional health sometimes sounds too much like pain is all in one’s head. Zoffness backs up her stance with plenty of scientific evidence that’s delivered in understandable language and reinforced with real-life examples. Readers who have chronic pain—or know someone who has it—should find the author’s advice worthwhile. For those who are more familiar with Zoffness’ conception of pain the book can feel a little repetitive even as it provides solid argumentation.

To date Farris has largely published work about being a parent with easygoing humor relatable scribbly characters and a dash of cuteness. This graphic memoir of her time in medical school and residency explores an entirely different world dissecting cadavers and attending in operating rooms but Farris’ gentle pointed comedic sense still suffuses every page. The story begins at its own ending—waddling through a hospital hallway nude in labor with her first child Farris calmly declines a gown—“It’s okay. I work here.” From there she loops back to recount her journey to that moment. Chapters are organized by sections of schooling detailed with a straightforward chart near the book’s beginning. The pre-clinical years are spent in classrooms studying from textbooks and body parts bonding with peers and meeting her future husband outside of the program. The clinical years consist of rotations through specialties like pediatrics surgery and the psychiatric ward where Farris observes a diversity of attitudes toward patients and practice some deeply humane others coldly clinical and a few downright prejudicial. Internship and residency allow her to understand doctoring more holistically which leads Farris to growing confidence relating to patients and increased satisfaction in her work. Finally on graduation day Farris oversleeps and realizes she’s pregnant and her life as a doctor begins. Farris uses her accessible visual style and straightforward tone to explore medical concepts with elegant directness—from cell death to hospital codes from electroconvulsive therapy to palliative care. She is well-versed in cartooning as communication and it’s refreshingly clear that she prizes comprehensive communicative care in her day-to-day work as a physician as well.

For six years Sasha has lived in Haven the underground society built to withstand nuclear war. Since the war since her family’s deaths since discovering she doesn’t get sick like everyone else does Sasha’s life has been full of death and overfull with grief. While working in the Ward Haven’s limited hospital she stays with patients as they die. When Tristian Hayes a unit commander of the Force ends up as her patient hanging on for his life she pleads for him to stay alive. He does—upending her bleak ritual as Death’s Angel. Hoping to forget everything she’s seen and to numb the pain Sasha leaves the Ward in favor of a role with a pickax expanding Haven’s tunnels. Tristian fiercely determined and stunningly stubborn recruits Sasha to the Force for a vital mission aboveground. The story picks up steam with Sasha’s intense training to become the medic for Tristian’s tightknit unit. Together they bear the weight of their unit’s survival and all that’s left of humankind. While in training Sasha struggles to discern friends and enemies but nothing is as challenging as facing her own demons. In this prequel to her debut novel Conform (2025) Sullivan tries to accomplish a lot with both the worldbuilding and plot machinations resulting in a convoluted story and flattened characters. The plot doesn’t have a satisfying payoff but the romantic tension between Sasha and Tristian will keep readers engaged.

Some still doubt that the son of a glovemaker who never left England could have created the imaginative universe we behold in the plays and poems. Amussen a historian at the University of California Merced writes a social history of England in the late-16th century to affirm that a man of the theater a highly literate poet an acute observer of daily life and quite simply a great literary genius could and did live to create the great works that traveled under his name. Early modern London had everything: travelers from abroad artisans the rich the poor the powerful the meek. Many schools offered far more than they do today. A boy in his teens would have been taught the classics of the ancient world the history of England and enough Latin (if not other languages) to navigate the libraries and booksellers of Queen Elizabeth’s age. Shakespeare was surrounded by scholars and artists and musicians and poets of skill and learning. His plays were performed by the greatest actors of the time. His poems were dedicated to some of the most powerful aristocrats of the age. He did not have to visit Verona to imagine Juliet’s balcony. He did not need to be born to furs and finery to give voice to kings. During his life Shakespeare was known for his ambition and his range. After his death the publication of the First Folio edition of his plays cemented his reputation. “There is no mystery about who wrote Shakespeare’s plays” Amussen writes. “There is nothing in the plays or in Shakespeare’s life that is incompatible with what we know of the man from Stratford.” The case is closed the author maintains and we can love and live inside his work without doubt.

Following the untimely deaths of her beloved parents just a few years apart focused determined Liliana Chamberlain hides out from state authorities scraping by in her family’s apartment focusing on getting to her 18th birthday in May and keeping her grades up for her full-ride college scholarship. But her estranged maternal grandparents’ lawyer—who was her mother’s close childhood friend—suddenly arrives with news: Liliana’s billionaire grandparents disowned her mom when she ran off with Liliana’s dad as a pregnant teen but now they want to send Liliana to her mother’s alma mater Westdale Academy. Readers will be swept along with this engaging over-the-top account of a school that’s filled with a diverse group of glittering teens. Chemistry immediately sparks between Liliana and two love interests: bisexual Theo Dubois whose mom is a famous actor and brooding but kind Maddox Moreno the son of a tech giant. She decides to run for Optima an elite society that accepts one student per year. While readers will likely pick up that Liliana is in danger well before she does they’ll still career along with the rollicking trope-filled twists and turns that continue to the very end of this boarding school adventure. Liliana and Theo are cued white and Maddox presents Latine.

It’s typically American Johns Hopkins musicologist Celenza notes that rebelling colonials adopted the derisive British song “Yankee Doodle” as a badge of pride. But a true anthem was wanted and it came in the War of 1812 (which “we tend to forget…began as an act of US aggression”): the “Star-Spangled Banner” written by a lawyer (and slaveholder in the “land of the free”) who borrowed the barely singable tune from a British men’s club. It might have been a handier ditty such as “My Country ’Tis of Thee” (its tune borrowed from “God Save the King”) or “Hail Columbia” but alas no. Not long after emancipation the formerly enslaved and their descendants found an anthem of their own in “Lift Every Voice and Sing” with its resonant cadences (“Lift every voice and sing / Till earth and heaven ring / Ring with the harmonies of Liberty…”) a song that deserves wider circulation outside the African American church community. Other songs in Celenza’s roster speak to other aspirations of freedom: George Gershwin’s “Rhapsody in Blue” which “captured the mechanistic beat of modern life”; the collected works of Duke Ellington blending jazz with the European classical tradition; Abel Meeropol’s antilynching ballad “Strange Fruit” as sung by the great Billie Holiday who ended her set with it and left the stage immediately after leaving her audiences stunned by the force of her delivery; Jerome Robbins’ musical West Side Story originally meant to tell the story of immigrant Eastern European Jews in New York and seized upon by politicians to denounce juvenile delinquency; and of course that great delinquent Bob Dylan whose folk anthem “Blowin’ in the Wind” Celenza wryly notes offers “an answer that is equally evasive and profound” like the author himself. Celenza’s selections extending into the era of Hamilton aren’t unexpected but she has something fresh to say about all of them.

Basil Theriot is the only one who can see ghostly G’pere at his funeral. In this slow-burn story she follows his vague directions trying to determine what G’pere needs from her. Meanwhile her family stresses over their restaurant’s signature dish seafood-stuffed mirlitons; her father taking over for executive chef G’pere can’t figure out the secret ingredient. Basil chafes against expectation that she’ll take over the restaurant someday—she knows the sacrifices involved and she doesn’t even like Cajun food. Basil uses her school’s upcoming Career Day presentations some fibs and the assistance of her Creole-Italian best friend Tommy Spizale as cover for reconnecting with her family’s Cajun roots through visits with G’pere’s friends (a swamp tour airboat captain a shrimper and a coastal scientist). The outings allow New Orleans and Louisiana’s Central Wetlands to shine as key characters. In the climax Basil who’s found her environmentalist passion faces consequences for the lies she’s told and the ways she’s treated Tommy during her single-minded quest. The plot threads come together neatly and the character arcs are thematically satisfying. The book oversimplifies distinctions between Cajun identity which is framed as white and Creole which is described as Black or mixed race (but “considered Black” in the U.S.) a dichotomy that erases Indigenous heritage and real-world complexities. Indigenous peoples are mentioned in a high-quality author’s note.

Actor-turned-author McCarthy now in his 60s begins with a comment from a young son who says offhandedly “You don’t really have any friends do you Dad?” McCarthy thinks well he has friends but he doesn’t see them often. The resolve then that drives this narrative was to go seek out friends from his hell-raising bibulous youth and beyond driving up and down and across the continent to check in. One visit was to a man he called his “surrogate big brother” who had fallen on hard times psychically speaking; though that old friend waved him off McCarthy drove the many miles to see him all the same to find him living as a hoarder with boxes everywhere that explained McCarthy gamely writes “how Jeff Bezos became a billionaire.” A modest intervention ensues before McCarthy pushes on. Friends can be as numerous as one wishes but they require investment: McCarthy cites a study that conjectures that “it takes two hundred hours to make a good friend.” Making is one thing keeping quite another: He marvels at an encounter in a Texas diner with a group of women who meet for lunch every Wednesday and have for time immemorial which causes him to wonder “Why are women just so much better at this?” The answers are various. McCarthy notes near the end of his narrative that while he’s met many men who have had friends for decades he has also met “men who have no male friends at all who can’t even conceive of the idea.” McCarthy finds hope for those friendless men when he concludes that those with whom he’s spoken allow that they’d “just never talked about this before” and might ponder doing something about it.

“We live on a floral planet” declares award-winning biologist Haskell in a fascinating examination of the enormous impact that flowering plants have had on all life. Flowers appeared about 200 million years ago following complex animals and other land plants such as ferns and conifers. Through rapid and continuing doubling of their genome followed by selective pruning their advent was dramatic: “By one hundred million years ago” Haskell writes “they were the foundation of most habitats on land” proliferating into almost all of the main branches of flowering plants that exist today. Haskell focuses on eight plants in particular: magnolias which were contemporaneous with dinosaurs; goatsbeard which responded to environmental stresses by chromosomal doubling; orchids whose evolutionary survival—an astounding 28000 species—exemplifies the interweaving of “sky and soil flying pollinators with root-bound microbes and fungi”; grasses which produce small flowers along stalks and “evolved hidden biochemical superpowers”; seagrasses distantly related to land grasses which provide habitats for aquatic animal life; roses whose volatile oils—and alluring fragrance— is a result of “genetic exuberance”; teas once a mainstay of international trade; and pansies both field pansies and the hundreds of new varieties bred by horticulturists. Haskell speculates on the future evolution of flowers as they respond to environmental challenges wrought by humans such as climate change and impoverished soil. Flowers are “genetically malleable and resilient” able to change their strategies of reproduction—from showy blooms to attract pollinators to self-fertilization for example. Besides bringing beauty and joy into the world flowers Haskell asserts can teach humans an important lesson: “Thriving worlds grow from cooperation mediated by beauty with some illusion thrown in.” A final chapter suggests playful ways to connect with flowers.

Having established in the opener that being “Poetry Pals” is far better than being predator and prey Coelophysis and Frog set off to see the world and learn to write about it. They start by alternating spontaneous rhyming lines advance to two-word poems that they dub “Blue Poos” and finish up with “sound poems” created with a chorus of hooting honking Parasaurolophus. Along the way a supposedly bad—but really funny—poem (“How does a T-Rex pick his nose? / Arms too short so he uses his toes!”) leads to a frantic flight from its irate subject while an Archeopteryx named Hope drops in and out of view to fuel bits of wordplay and a wistful concrete poem from smitten Coelophysis: “I hope / to see / Hope / soon / and / hopefully / Hope / hopes / what I / hope.” Like the poems the illustrations seem both simple and unpolished at first and OK second glances. But the hand-lettered verses and the googly-eyed dinos both of which Angleberger places on layered swatches of creased and deckle-edged paper for a 3-D look carry more than enough vim to leave budding poets roaring to join this brand-new writer’s group in its collective closing “ALL RIGHT!!!! Let’s WRITE!!!”

“Earth is now a pale blue smudge” writes Commander Oliver Ines from aboard the Talos. Growing up in a small English village where he had celestial wallpaper in his bedroom Ollie had no idea he would grow up to become one of the most famous astronauts of all time. As he floats through space with his three crew members Ollie thinks back on everything that led him here. He remembers his idyllic yet suffocating childhood especially one summer he spent with Philly his neighbor’s strange but lovely niece. There were the years he spent excelling academically—not socially—in London and then his wildly successful though unfulfilling Royal Navy career. And finally his relationship with Philly as they reconnect fall in love and create a family together serves as the emotional through line. When Ollie is approached by a charismatic controlling and controversial billionaire given the opportunity to train as an astronaut and take a one-of-a-kind mission to Europa to find out if there’s life beneath its glittering surface he must make a life-changing decision: Will he continue to chase greatness and glory even if it means leaving his loved ones behind for more than a decade? During one trip back to his village Ollie thinks “Time can distort events but it can just as well bend them back into shape.” As he gets closer to Europa and further from his loved ones Ollie’s life—and his potential legacy—begin to come into sharper focus. As the novel boomerangs between memories and the mission it becomes clear how much has been sacrificed—and the ways that ambition can equally propel and poison one’s life. Pin’s perfectly melancholy prose offers a sweeping yet grounded portrait of a man whose aspiration becomes the guiding principle of his life. The novel beautifully explores loneliness memory belonging grief and the cost of chasing one’s dreams.

“Hurry hurry” a frequent life refrain drumbeats through the first half of this indelible book as a stylish Black-presenting child-and-adult pair both clad in skirts depart for an important rendezvous. Clutching a gift hurtling down the subway stairs the child loses a red ballet flat returned by a friendly fellow passenger in a hoodie. In successive frames the parent and child run through a vast city park (which New Yorkers will recognize as Central Park) “to the trail… / round the pond… / cross the bridge… / up the hill… / We have somewhere to be!” At last they reach a picnic table with a lone red balloon a left-behind sign and some discarded cups. Quickly they pull out a party invitation. “Hurry hurry / check the date. / Yesterday. / Yesterday?” Face-in-hands disappointment. Writhe in anguish on the slope? Not a bit: “We’ll head back home / but while we’re here / let’s take turns rolling down the hill.” Then “let’s see what’s underneath the bridge” “watch the ducklings / in the pond” “walk until the trail runs out.” Balloon aloft disappointment replaced by joy in nature and in being together the happy child lovingly embraces the resourceful carer. Archer’s brilliantly luminous cut-paper art sets the characters against vibrant greens and blues where their vermilion jackets shoes and balloon pop while Wynter’s text positively sings.

But Michael is in prison on Governors Island their father is institutionalized at a psychiatric center and Jonah has just been released from juvenile detention. His drawing skills earn him a spot at Harlem Heights’ High School of Music and Art the chance of a lifetime for a boy from the South Bronx. At M & A Jonah who’s Jewish is surrounded by the Ivy League–bound elite. The charismatic chair of the English department becomes his ally and he starts dating Merle Messenger a bold academically gifted polio survivor whose disability is handled with care as simply one aspect of her life. Invited into Merle’s world of wealth and culture Jonah must balance new opportunities with what he owes the gang and community. The book paints a meticulous detailed historical portrait of New York City. Jonah is an observant and principled first-person narrator but the real stars are the supporting cast members. This young adult debut by acclaimed writer Charyn is populated by lovable complicated wholly realized people who inhabit a world that feels full and bustling. The author portrays the complexities of Jonah’s life—carceral systems fail him and the people he cares about—but he avoids didacticism instead offering an almost dreamlike trip that unfolds at a measured pace through the events that shape Jonah into the young man he’ll become.

This remembrance shares a riveting account of a lesser-known aspect of the Second World War—the forced exile of Poles and others under the control of the Soviet Union to prison camps in Siberia by train. Kinalska-Pietruska’s story is harrowing in its narration of her struggle to survive amid cold and starvation (“I was seven years old growing fast and always hungry”) but with a hopeful ending of eventual repatriation although it came at the price of being forced to become a member of Communist Party. Skrypczak’s afterword chronicles her grandmother’s life in the decades following the ordeal that included a distinguished career in medicine. Although this part of the story has a happy ending it doesn’t shy from the long-term effects of displacement and family separation (which included Kinalska-Pietruska’s father taking a new wife and starting a new family before learning that his first family was still alive). This book divided between a remembrance of a Polish survivor and her granddaughter’s account of her subsequent years is an important account on many levels. As both memoir and history it raises awareness of an underexplored part of WWII suffering showing the extent of Soviet victimization of Poles which had lasting effects on the multiethnic and multicultural dynamic of Poland. In a timely note Skrypczak reminds readers of the similarities between the Soviet treatment of Poles and the current treatment of Ukrainians by Russia. Overall this book stands out as a testament to the resilience of the human spirit.

Raised in Denmark and shaped by a Nordic sense of stoicism and ambition the author left home to study and build a cosmopolitan life in Toronto and New York. Beneath her successes—she had a good career traveled and was married—was a widening emptiness (“Happy-go-lucky was no longer my nature”). A toxic relationship and a mysterious illness eventually stripped away Nilsson’s self-image forcing her to confront long-suppressed family traumas and the patterns of shame and silence that shadowed generations of women in her lineage. Through therapy alternative medicine and spiritual exploration the author began to rebuild her health and identity rediscovering what it means to live “soul-happy.” Nilsson writes with sincerity and a natural eye for sensory detail and her cross-cultural perspective adds texture to familiar themes of reinvention and healing. The book’s early chapters are particularly evocative capturing the quiet loneliness of expatriate life and the subtle dissonance between appearance and reality. The work sometimes falters in its pacing and structure; scenes are often summarized rather than dramatized and key emotional turns—such as the moments when Nilsson chose to leave her marriage or confront her illness—arrive abruptly with limited buildup. Readers may wish for a stronger throughline and a clearer sense of what “home” ultimately means for Nilsson beyond a return to self-love. Still the author’s voice carries gentle conviction and her willingness to expose the uncomfortable truths behind a polished exterior gives the memoir resonance. Nilsson offers readers a model of transformational growth—moving beyond set boundaries and rediscovering purpose meaning and authenticity even in the face of persistent struggles. The final sections which cover her physical recovery and emotional rebirth achieve a quiet grace. While the book covers well-trodden terrain in the healing-journey genre Nilsson’s cultural lens and introspective candor offer moments of genuine insight.

Few can claim the star-studded oeuvre that was Ursula Nordstrom’s (1910-1988). Born in New York City to actor parents she lived a childhood that was magical “until it wasn’t.” Her parents divorced and she was shipped off to boarding school—difficult experiences for this shy child but her love of reading proved invaluable. Guided by the belief that only “fresh” “original” and “honest” stories were worthy of young people she climbed the ranks at Harper & Brothers and from here Hudgins focuses squarely on the titles that Nordstrom helped to bring into existence. Everything from Charlotte’s Web to Harriet the Spy gets its day in the sun with ample backstories and fun tidbits of information tucked into each chapter. Where a rote biography of an editor could easily devolve into a dull affair Hudgins peppers her pages with “Writing Tips From Ursula” advice on how to “Be Like Ursula” and sidebars throughout. She notes how Nordstrom championed books about Black children and titles that considered gender identity and the LGBTQ experience; the author also repeatedly references the role of Mary Griffith the woman Nordstrom loved. In the end the book drills home the understanding that Nordstrom believed in the innate intelligence of the child reader.