The story begins by likening words to people: specifically the way each word is unique and lovely just the way it is. Every word does something no other word can and when different words meet “Words are like kids / Who see each other / And begin to play.” The author underscores the anxiety words can produce and acknowledges the way we sometimes can’t find the right ones and say the wrong thing: “Words can feel shy / And hide when we need them.” Some words are angry and frightening in some contexts and in others the same words can heal by naming the things that are scary. Davis-Gibbon notes that speaking the truth with words is brave and commendable. Berry’s whimsical pencil-and-watercolor illustrations abound with hidden words disguised as characters and objects. Readers will enjoy looking for all the words buried in the full-page pictures; flower for example is depicted using blooming plants in a garden. This balance of text and images will undoubtedly delight kids and the presentation of the text makes for an easy read. The narration retains its accessibility and clarity as it builds gradually from words to simple metaphors to the emotional consequences of words to the ending which tackles the complex notion of speaking out and speaking one’s truth.

Emily an anthropomorphized button the color and texture of a strawberry is happy dancing and twirling her blue ribbon in the privacy of her craft-box bedroom. Her friend Becky a yellow button enters them both in a talent show but Emily doesn’t want to dance in public—she’s very anxious about making a mistake (“I might mess up”). But she agrees for Becky’s sake. They practice hard and once they’re on stage together Emily is able to perform…until she trips on her ribbon and falls down. Luckily Becky keeps singing. Emily picks herself up and restarts her routine. After the show her button friends all congratulate her and ask her to teach them dancing. Olson tells Emily’s story through simple prose and exquisitely staged photographs depicting actual google-eyed buttons with wire legs and arms. The scenes are ingenious in their composition incorporating motion shots (note especially Emily’s ribbon dances and the juggling tableau on Page 14) setting-appropriate repurposings (such as pencils for bench seats) a mixture of artfully focused close-up and establishing shots and copious background details to contextualize the button protagonists. Emily is a relatable character and her trepidation will resonate with many a budding young performer. That she actually does mess up is an astute plot development teaching kids to embrace the doing and sharing of what they love—not to overvalue being perfect at it.

Alex and his mother (both portrayed with pale skin) along with their dog Nico sometimes go on adventures together—but often “Mommy…wants to play with us but her body can’t.” Over a week Mom experiences a new symptom each day—her specific illness isn’t disclosed—which Alex then explains to Nico using easy-to-understand similes: “Mama can’t hike with us: her body is stiff like a ROBOT.” Each explanation concludes with his knowledge that his mother cares about him: She can’t go to the movies but “I know she loves us by the way she plays puzzles with us when we return.” Although the story acknowledges that Alex often feels sad—as many kids would—it ends with a firmly hopeful assertion that Mom is seeing doctors to get well and “better days” are ahead. It’s a tough subject for a kids’ book but the straightforward text is perfectly augmented by Rewerenda’s soft pastellike illustrations often featuring literal depictions of Mom’s described discomfort—inviting readers to imagine for instance how it would feel to carry an elephant. It’s an impressively compassionate story about how persistent illness can affect a family.

A woman named Caty finds a box of mementos kept on a back closet shelf that helps her piece together the story of her parents. The narrative then shifts to 1970s Berkley where readers are introduced to Caty’s father Paul Leroy “Roy” Robertson and her mother Lenore “Len” Whitaker when both are students. Roy a Vietnam veteran originally from small-town Virginia is taken by Len at once (“She’s a person who knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to claim it”) and Len feels similarly about him. Len is a trust-funded lawyer’s daughter Roy is a pensioned wounded war veteran trying to run a struggling restaurant and they begin spending lots of time together. When Len becomes pregnant Roy’s shocked when she initially wants to have an abortion in the days shortly after Roe v. Wade. Caty reads on knowing of course the end result: the birth of a baby (called “Delicate”). But the more she investigates the more mysteries crop up not only about her father but also about her long-departed mother who “had sewn a sheath around Daddy’s heart.” At one point it could be fairly said: “Home fatherhood friends. Lenore. This is Roy’s life and it isn’t bad.” So what changed to end this seemingly idyllic story? Kemanis narrates the life of Roy and Len at a leisurely pace with colorful prose full of sharply-realized dialogue. The multifaceted and very personal stresses of contemplating both abortion and pregnancy test the emotions of Roy and Len right at the point in the story when readers have come to care about them. Caty herself is a touch less well realized but the book’s third-act revelations will keep readers turning pages.

In 1926 a man named Robert Thomas and a male friend both Black had to fight off a white female usher white manager and six riot officers to be allowed to take the orchestra seats they had purchased rather than be banished to the balcony at Harlem’s Loew’s Victoria Theatre. This was just one of many incidents in the early 20th century in which Black New Yorkers no strangers to racist treatment endured discrimination and violence while trying to attend one of the city’s theaters. In this well-written work Lopez “traces Black film culture in New York City from its origins in the early twentieth century to its firm establishment in the 1930s” defining Black film culture as “Black New Yorkers’ interactions with cinema and surrounding institutions not necessarily the cinematic output itself.” In illuminating chapters she describes the alternative venues Black audiences had to locate when established theaters proved inhospitable; the “young Black girls’ and women’s moviegoing experiences” and the fear that their attendance led to “promiscuity criminality and incorrigibility”; the battles that Oscar Micheaux “the most successful Black filmmaker in the first half of the twentieth century” had to wage to get his “racially charged” films approved by censors; the attempts by film operators to unionize; and the pioneering reporting of Black journalists particularly at the New York Age to call attention to the “connections between racist cinema and its proprietors and the debilitating effects of racism on Black New Yorkers.” The writing is sometimes dry but Lopez brings this sorry period to life by recounting memorable moments as when she notes the 1930 incident of the projection booth at the Renaissance Theatre crashing down onto the patrons below a tragedy that would have been worse if the projectionists hadn’t turned off the projector first and prevented a fire.

Although candidate Donald Trump “vowed to drain the influence peddling swamp in Washington DC” author Lewis asserts in the book’s introduction “he did the exact opposite” as president. Particularly egregious is the administration’s intermingling of corporate and foreign interests which the author says benefited many with access to the Oval Office. As an advisor to the president former New York City Mayor Rudy Giuliani ran a “parallel version of the State Department” according to Lewis which leveraged his connections to develop ties with regimes in Turkey Russia and Venezuela. The author asserts that Guiliani and his associates skirted regulations that had been in place since the 1930s passage of the Foreign Agents Registration Act and adopted autocratic tactics inside the American political system. Per the book’s convincing analysis the Jan. 6 2021 insurrection was a “natural outcome of the never-ending persuasion games that occurred during Trump’s presidency” as the administration effectively created an alternate reality via disinformation that played upon his supporters’ worst fears and biases. Lewis a global traveler who once resided in Russia writes that he first noticed early signs of what he deemed to be Russian interference in American politics after seeing social media accounts parrot “Putin’s talking points” with “English grammar mistakes common for Russian speakers.” Although the author doesn’t hold back on its critiques of Trump administration tactics his book’s main strength is its painstaking research which yielded more than 3000 endnotes. There’s also a laudable dedication to accessibility as readers unacquainted with the nuances of contemporary geopolitics will find this book’s explanations clear and concise. To that end Lewis supplements his engaging narrative with a wealth of charts reproductions of primary sources textbox vignettes and other visual elements. A comprehensive timeline of cited administration connections to Turkey Russia Ukraine and Venezuela appears in a useful appendix.

With more than 200 color images and five essays this sumptuous volume celebrates an iconic flower. Introduced by Kristine Paulus collection development librarian at the New York Botanical Garden essays include fashion historian Amy de La Haye’s overview of roses in clothing design; a piece by Victoria Gaiger editor at Rakesprogress magazine examining the use of roses in perfumes; and floral designer Shane Connolly’s consideration of the language of a flower long associated with goddesses of love. Rose Gaiger discovered the favorite scent of Marie Antoinette later became a prominent note in Paul Poiret’s La Rose de Rosine and Chanel’s famous No. 5. Although the red rose has endured as a symbol of affection—notably of course on Valentine’s Day—Connolly reveals that roses of other hues send subtle messages too. Michael Marriott chairman of the Historic Roses Group offers a glossary of rose types—damasks and floribundas ramblers and rugosas among many others. The blossom Sappho called “the queen of flowers” originated more than 30 million years ago and contains more than 150 wild species and tens of thousands of cultivars. Beloved by Greeks Romans and throughout the ancient world the rose inspired festivals that still continue. Among the book’s images is a fragile gold and glass floral wreath dated to the third or second century B.C.E. Featured as well are delicate botanical drawings and paintings by a wide range of artists including Vincent van Gogh William Morris Pierre-Auguste Renoir Gustav Klimt Georgia O’Keeffe and Salvador Dalí. Fashion plates display the creations of designers such as Christian Dior Elsa Schiaparelli Charles Worth and Alexander McQueen. Not least Ian Hamilton Finlay’s screenprint on tile takes as its motif Gertrude Stein’s famous line of poetry “A rose is a rose is a rose.” Perhaps it’s all that needs saying.

“My mother has an invisible shield. I’ve tested it” declares a floppy-haired child who then proceeds to illustrate the many ways in which that hypothesis has been proven. This mom is ready for anything her child throws at her (sometimes literally) whether the youngster is attempting to filch some fruit or give her a scare. Throughout a younger sibling looks on in curiosity. There’s no penetrating her force field despite what appears to be extensive attempts and research. One thing however will always get through her defenses: A plaintive “Mama?” with outstretched arms removes barriers and results in a piggyback ride. Though the concept is cute and certainly relatable (parents having eyes in the back of their heads) this book misses the mark on several levels. It’s unclear what the child is hoping to achieve. Is the protagonist just playing or seeking deeper attention? The ending feels out of step with the other more playful scenarios. The rhyme scheme is clunky both in tempo and in not-quite-there rhymes such as coming/something resulting in an uneven read-aloud. The pictures are colorful and bright but don’t always match the words causing confusion. Inconsistent details such as the family cat being both inside and outside the house within a single scene are distracting. Mama and the child have tan skin; the younger sibling has lighter skin.

After fleeing an abusive husband New Zealander Jessamine Sibley takes a new job at a library in a small town in Bent River County Virginia. At first she’s excited about her fresh start. She has a new career new friends and a new house that she inherited from a friend in her book club. But it soon becomes clear that not everything is what it seems in Bent River County and the library seems to be right at the center of all the intrigue. First there’s Jessamine’s rude and flaky coworker Drusillawho seems determined to keep Jessamine from doing her job. Her own house is being taken over by overgrown weeds and it turns out to be hiding a secret of its own. Meanwhile the town’s wealthiest man who’s likely never heard the word noin his life will do anything to make sure nothing in Bent River County ever changes. It turns out that the corruption in the town runs deep and Jessamine will find herself caught up in it all—and even arrested for murder. For all of its small-town hijinks and crime-novel elements Marry’s novel is at its heart a love letter to libraries and all that they represent to a small community: “We have a remarkable library….As library employees we have given our best to our county.” Readers will find that Jessamine and the varied members of her found family are all easy to root for as they make the library their home away from home. Although the story takes some time to truly pick up speed once the drama begins to unfurl it pulls the reader in and refuses to let go.

An unnamed stage actress sits in her apartment telling her young son a fairy story. Urged on by the ghosts of blood-drenched women that only she can see she speaks of a boy born in a stately home. A curious perpetually hungry child with sharp nails and pointed teeth the boy is abandoned by his spectral mother and soon-dead father and doted on by his wet nurse Agnes. He seems to bring a curse upon the village—the crops suffer blight year upon year walls crumble a young girl’s skin peels from her bones. When Eunice a villager who played with the boy as a child moves into the manor as his lover the furious townspeople storm the gates with pitchforks and the young couple flees. A shotgun wedding in a roadside chapel makes Eunice the first of his many abused and blighted wives and the only one to bear him a son of his own. Young Tristan grows up determined to take revenge on his father—and the narrator’s son listens with bated breath. Theodoridou interweaves teller and tale to dizzying effect leaving the reader to relish in some satisfying uncertainties. The narrator’s own career staging shows about violent men adds a delicious metatextual twist. “Easier to tell you of a man who was a myth a natural disaster a fairy-tale thing” the narrator concedes to her son “than to say your father is a wife-beater a rapist a murderer.” Unfortunately the book’s length outstrips its conceit—a dense dark gem of a story becomes frustratingly repetitive. The carousel of murdered wives rotting fruit and blood-soaked gowns evokes the cyclical horrors of abuse but the eventual predictability soon dulls the narrative’s edge.

A cancelled flight has jeopardized Piper Adams’ maid of honor responsibilities. Instead of being on a plane to her best friend Allie’s bachelorette party and wedding at an all-inclusive resort in the Bahamas she’s stuck at the Atlanta airport. Fortunately a knight in shining armor comes to her rescue but unfortunately he’s Wyatt Brooks the man who broke her heart. As luck would have it he’s attending the same wedding and a former Army connection has offered him the use of a small plane to get him there. What should have been a two-hour flight ends in disaster though as Piper and Wyatt barely survive a plane crash on an unknown island. When Piper finally comes to after having been unconscious for almost a day her first thought is that she’s missed her friend’s bachelorette and may very well miss the wedding. Strange priorities for someone recovering from a plane crash. The story jumps between “Now” with Piper and Wyatt on the island and “Then” when they first met as teenagers and those flashbacks to a standard romance aren’t as compelling as the current situation with the pair having to navigate a harsh environment while fighting old feelings. Piper doesn’t make a great impression on the reader coming across as immature when faced with difficult experiences. She whines to a gate attendant just trying to do her job to get an entire plane full of irate passengers rebooked. She gets angry with Allie for inviting Wyatt to her wedding even though he’s her cousin. Being stranded softens her a bit but it’s hard to be on her side. The deserted island setting adds some tension to the story but Piper’s self-centered behavior and decision to hold a grudge against Wyatt for his earlier relationship insecurities make it a challenge to reach a compelling happily-ever-after.

Han is introduced as “mostly ornery. That’s another word for grumpy.” Then Kate and Olly move in; the youngsters are “curious and loquacious. That’s another word for talkative.” Though Han tries to avoid the kids eventually they meet much to his discomfort. Using soft colors textured with simple lines and deftly blended shadows exuding warmth and charm Phuong presents humorous cartoonish scenes of the kids invading Han’s space. Eventually Kate and Olly ask about a picture of Han’s late wife Lan; seeing his sadness they perform small acts of kindness that artfully chip away at his hard exterior. After the children ask Han about his favorite food he makes them an offer: He’ll prepare his beloved pho (which he used to make with Lan) if Kate and Ollie can find the ingredients. The kids rise to the occasion and a comforting montage of cooking scenes ensues. Kate brings Lan’s picture to the table and over time Han’s world expands to envelop the larger community. Presented in a mix of speech bubbles and narrative text Krans’ prose is spare yet intimate; the author trusts readers to fill in the quiet spaces of the story. The children are pale-skinned; Han is East Asian (references to pho suggest he’s of Vietnamese descent).

His best friend Jasminder Cheema who has her life together is going with Joe Chan one of the hottest boys in school—because of course she is. But when Jas surprises Alfie one morning with the news that their school’s golden couple Harvey Ledger and Summer Gray have broken up everything changes. Harvey and Summer have been inseparable for years and now they’ve split up just four days before prom. Despite Harvey’s presenting as straight Alfie has had a quiet crush on him for years. So when Jas encourages Alfie to ask Harvey to be his date for prom he does the most un-Alfie thing he can think of: He gets up the courage to invite Harvey to join him. To his immense surprise and pleasure Harvey accepts. In short chapters that advance the plot at a swift pace this work for reluctant readers that uses a dyslexia-friendly font explores relatable themes of popularity sexuality friendship and identity. This sweet and accessible novel about potential romance and being true to yourself is a strong narrative that’s sure to engage readers and leave them wanting more. Alfie and Harvey are cued as white.

Kurt Endlicher is a young Viennese adult-education teacher living on his own for the first time. As the book begins he has just moved into his aunt’s old apartment where he initially clashes with one of his neighbors Paul. “I had ended up living next to the most vulgar person in the world” Kurt observes—but soon the tension that exists between Kurt and his neighbor gives way to an often moving friendship. Kurt’s connection to his oldest friend Frederik and Frederik’s girlfriend Yasmina supply much of the book’s tension. Both Frederik and Yasmina work in medicine leading to some wry observations: “We never interact with reasonable people whose butts are covered” Yasmina says. Eventually the couple separates after Frederik tells her “You’re not an Arab Rosa Luxemburg but just a pretentious snob from the Eighteenth District.” In the aftermath of that quarrel Frederik moves in with Kurt. Frederik then asks Kurt to keep tabs on Yasmina; Kurt in turn enlists the help of one of his students Ferhat to whom he is attracted. This novel has the components of a comedy of manners but there are more serious concerns taking place in the background as well—including the 2014 fall of Mosul and broader questions of immigration assimilation and isolationism. Schmidt’s translation keeps things moving at a brisk pace and conveys the big ideas subtle comedy and moments of sadness that punctuate this book. And Kurt’s own idiosyncrasies—including hypochondria and depression—make him a memorable narrator.

Robbie Jordan is on the cusp of motherhood and she and her husband Abe O’Neill couldn’t be happier. Business is buzzing at Pans ’N Pancakes Robbie’s diner. But as she and her staff of two Danna Beedle and Turner Rao work hard to furnish the citizens of South Lick Indiana with a steady stream of delicious daily specials Robbie can’t help noticing that she isn’t able to focus on business the way she used to. Maybe it’s “pregnancy brain” that allows her to leave a stiff-moving customer to his own devices even when he introduces himself to her as Ivan Sheluk and asks whether she’s related to Adele Jordan before ordering a grilled cheese and chocolate milk. Robbie’s supplier of baked goods Hope Morris seems to know Ivan. So does South Lick Mayor Corrine Beedle Danna’s mother. But by the time Robbie gets to talk to her Aunt Adele about it Ivan’s been found dead in Adele’s sheep field. Adele turns out to have enough history with the man to make her a likely suspect but Robbie is too absorbed by her impending delivery as well as Danna and Turner’s intermittent unavailability for work to put much energy into helping her aunt. Braxton-Hicks contractions and a never-ending search for waitstaff compete with sleuthing for room in Robbie’s head. In the end finding a new cook seems just as important as finding out how Ivan died.

The author an experienced leader in risk management here shares his method for turning professional setbacks into opportunities by focusing on six distinct areas using a system he calls Presilience®. First readers learn how psychology can be used to understand people’s thoughts and actions in certain situations. Next Schneider draws from neuroscience to explicate people’s responses to various situations: “In decision-making the neural seesaw illustrates why we sometimes struggle to blend logical analysis with empathetic understanding. For effective decision-making especially in leadership or complex scenarios we need to harness both aspects.” The author then discusses the importance of physical health using his martial arts and bodyguard experiences as examples before discussing how interactions with others need to include trust (both in others and oneself) and a strong sense of ethics. He presents specific suggestions (like using a color-coded system for “different risk levels or scenarios” in the workplace) and explains the importance of looking to the past for information about the future. The final section includes a step-by-step guide to making one’s own “personal Presilience plan.” Schneider takes pains to break down potentially complicated ideas (the psychological concepts of “priming” vs. “framing” for example) into bite-sized informative chunks that never feel overwhelming—even for risk-management novices. There are parts of the text that do become a bit repetitive though such as the section discussing the “tribal leadership model” in which the same information is relayed twice using slightly different verbiage. But such moments prove to be the exception—the author largely keeps the book moving in a logical forward trajectory. The prose itself is personable but never emotional and it avoids the dryness that sometimes plagues business books of this size. There are also plenty of examples anecdotes and visuals to break things up. Schneider has created an accessible handbook full of concrete advice for anyone looking to adapt to the ever-changing business landscape.

Hiding out in the near-future “Perfect. Animal. Worlds.” (or PAW) Biosphere 11-year-old Hazel McCrimlisk hopes that learning to speak with the animals will help her locate her scientist parents who were mysteriously abducted by a monster just over a year ago. Traveling between the different ecosystem-based biodomes created by Dr. Henry Nimick Hazel becomes adept at speaking with different species. She’s assisted by Nina a genetically modified miniature elephant and her friend Alex Silva whose gender isn’t specified. On the fateful day when they stumble upon Dr. Nimick who’s presenting his genetically modified beasts to biosphere visitors they’re propelled into a whirlwind adventure filled with giant carnivorous flowers an old woman who morphs into a jaguar a helpful goat and more. When the trio along with a courageous team of creatures discover Laboratory 2044 located in a secret biosphere they’re thrust into a showdown with the terrible perpetrators of Hazel’s parents’ kidnapping. The black line art alternates between shading in purple for the main storyline and green for flashbacks. The somewhat stiff imagery moves the storyline along satisfactorily giving the quirky and occasionally humorous animals their time in the spotlight and supporting the sometimes wooden dialogue. Hazel and Alex are racially ambiguous and Dr. Nimick presents white.

Hugo is eager to join Dorian and their friend Ada a boulder who will eventually grow up to be a planet on a trip to watery Hydrox Dorian’s home planet. They arrive to find a crisis caused by masses of butterfly people who have been driven from their own polluted warming planet and by their rapidly reproducing pet otters who have escaped to wreak havoc on the Hydrox residents’ floating habitats and submarine farms. What’s to be done? Even as they pitch into a series of predicaments on the way to reining in the invasive pets and engineering a new local home for the refugees clockwork ex-servant Hugo and brash royal Dorian find their friendship blossoming into a romantic flurry of kisses and affirmations of devotion. The multiplicity of species and intelligences in this story that explores ecological themes in an intergalactic setting makes for an unusually diverse cast. Better yet the tale ends on a cozy note as Hugo gets past self-esteem issues rooted in his artificial origins and joyfully agrees to become Dorian’s official consort. This stand-alone companion to The Starlight Watchmaker (2025) features a straightforward text and a font and paper color designed to support readers with dyslexia.

It’s 1998 and teenagers Abraxa Sash and Lilith are making a video game. They’ve never met in person but they meet online to discuss their plans for Saga of the Sorceress inspired by a character from the Mystic Knights video game franchise. Abraxa a brash trans girl is responsible for the game’s art coding and music; Sash a lesbian with a curt and serious manner handles the writing; and Lilith is the level designer struggling under the weight of the others’ expectations. Then Lilith suddenly disappears and Sash disbands the company the three formed to create the game which is never finished. In 2016 before the presidential election Abraxa crashes at a friend’s house in Jersey City following yet another misadventure. She discovers a dilapidated church and begins squatting in its basement reimagining the space as “what the sorceress is asking her to build.” In Brooklyn Lilith works as an assistant loan underwriter at a bank; she constantly asks if she’s “pushing herself hard enough so that no one would categorize her as a problem a queer an aberration.” Sash lives with her parents also in Brooklyn and she lies to them about employment prospects while supporting herself via online sex work. She’s beset with doubts about her future and regrets about her past communicated with immediacy and feeling through second-person narration. The pursuits that consumed them as teenagers have never let these women go and their paths will soon cross again. Thornton has a skillful command of worldbuilding both in the physical world and within chat rooms and 2D video games. She writes with profound incisive authority about relationships not only between trans and cisgender people—of one of her bank clients a well-meaning but pushy cis woman Lilith thinks “Cis people didn’t like being reminded of the hurt places at the border between them and others”—but also about the dynamics that exist within trans communities as well as among co-workers families and perhaps most importantly friends.

Though the title sounds like a murder mystery in this case it refers to a feeling Miranda reports to her sister Charlotte by email during a visit to their parents’ home: “You know what it’s like: the usual desire to kill.” That’s the sisters’ consistent reaction to spending time with their crotchety ailing brilliant parents (and their llamas Lollo and Leonora). The portraits of Dad and Mum delivered in the first person by actress/playwright Miranda are the highlights of playwright Barnes’ fiction debut along with the ongoing banter volleyed among all the characters. The book also includes emails between the sisters letters written in the 1960s to someone named Kitty by “Your Loving Sister” and a small number of sections written in the third person covering developments Miranda is not privy to. The book delights in arcane family rituals code names and practices: “doing the ducks”; characters referred to as DK (Dog Killer) and HQ (Headquarters); an apparently fictional sibling named James; the horrors of a finally retired chest freezer named Boswell which was moved to France from England along with all its contents; a host of shared literary references from Epictetus to Kipling Shakespeare to Stevie Smith. Mum’s impending hip replacement surgery to be performed in Paris is the closest thing the book has to a plot—it occasions a gathering of all five family members including Miranda’s 19-year-old daughter Alice at the parents’ home where a few remaining mysteries are cleared up. Higher stakes would not have been a bad idea; as it is the reader waits for something to knock these characters out of their patterns of humoring and needling and misunderstanding each other and it just doesn’t come making for a melancholy denouement.