Eddie Hest loves living in Detroit and doesn’t want to move but her landlord has sold the building where she resides. Divorced from her young daughter’s drug-addicted father Eddie has only 30 days to find a new place for herself and Grace. Eddie has always been a bit of a nonconformist (think purple hair and a variety of tattoos) with a strong streak of independence but she’s fiercely committed to being a “good mom” to Grace and that requires setting up a stable home. After borrowing the down payment from her mother she purchases a small house in Shady Hollow a Detroit suburb. Once Grace enrolls in fourth grade in her new school and joins the soccer team Eddie learns how strange her new hometown is. When she picks Grace up from practice Eddie sees that no adults are there to supervise the children. She emails the coach to ask why the children were left alone. Days later Eddie is accosted berated and threatened by a “Psycho Soccer Mom” who turns out to be the coach’s wife; Eddie is now in the crosshairs of the tyrant of Shady Hollow. (“Never! Ever! Question what he does. Or you’ll have to answer to me!”) Castoro’s imaginatively constructed novel is narrated by Eddie who records psychiatric “sessions” in an empty room in which she listens only to her own voice; through these recordings readers follow her string of suburban misadventures as she’s pulled into the bizarre machinations of Psycho Soccer Mom. The narrative is bolstered by an eclectic assembly of secondary characters and Eddie is an energetic edgy protagonist. Breezy conversational and often biting prose propels the action in an unconventional storyline that manages to be simultaneously absurd and tender all the while offering a lesson in the power of self-affirmation.

Waking up to the first snowfall of the year Chiyoko wants to build a snowman but Papa says there’s no time. Today they’ll be going to the misogura a wooden barn to learn the family business of making miso. Throughout the day Chiyoko and Papa clean the tubs cook rice sprinkle powder to make kōji mold and wait. Papa always says that magic takes time but Chiyoko would rather make snowmen than wait for the miso. At one point a restless Chiyoko plays with the rice but patient Papa reminds Chiyoko to be respectful of it. He shares how miso-making is a long-standing family tradition that he’s passing down to Chiyoko. Finally by embracing this gift Chiyoko finds happiness in hard work and delicious outcomes. This is a charming story of a father and child focused on a multigenerational cultural tradition with a lesson on patience folded in. Hadley balances storytelling with some science and culinary details. The beautiful full-color illustrations evoke warmth transporting readers into the Japanese mountainside misogura. Backmatter adds context including a glossary with Japanese characters information on the molding process and a recipe for miso soup.

Noted political scientists Pierson author of Winner-Take-All Politics and Schickler author of Racial Realignment draw on their extensive scholarship to examine various periods of American history during which polarization was particularly virulent yet held largely in check until the 1960s by the regional diversity of political mechanisms and institutions of state political parties media and lobbying groups. The authors attempt to show how and why this dynamic shifted to the national state and why such polarization has caused the recent spate of U.S. presidential elections to take on nearly Armageddon-like overtones amplified by both major parties. “Partisan rancor has become a defining feature of American politics” they write. “Growing numbers regard the other party with hostility and fear. Party elites are more polarized still.” The authors contend that the Constitution—which they view from a "Madisonian" angle—was not designed to meet contemporary political difficulties and that the contemporary Republican Party especially the segment that follows any order from Donald Trump exploits the founding document’s vulnerabilities. The book is well researched and the authors’ analysis of past eras of polarization changes in what they label "intermediary institutions" such as interest groups and mass media is incisive. However the heavy focus on the Republican Party while cogent and often accurate leaves the account deficient. Given their arguments throughout the book the authors seem to operate under the flawed premise that the Democratic Party is merely slightly center-left and they fail to fully explore the ramifications of specific dubious decisions by Democratic leaders. While the text is certainly worth reading and contemplating particularly for the historical analysis of partisanship it tells only half of the story.

Standing in their patch in rural Ukraine a young sunflower and his fellows feel an ominous rumbling through the ground: Something is wrong. Sure enough a ferocious bullying bear comes stomping along. It blocks out the sun and crushes flowers underfoot. (“‘I want your land!’ the bear roared.”) All of the sunflowers are scared but the young sunflower stands up to the bear. With flattery trickery and the support of its fellows it leads the bear far away and dumps it into a watering hole. Doornebos relates the sunflowers’ tale in the mode of a fable employing simple language and recounting events that unfold more through moralistic intent than the logic of cause-and-effect. Though quite overtly an analogue to the Russian invasion of Ukraine the story functions perfectly well as a standalone piece—its message of resilience is universal and adults and children alike can take heart from the sunflowers’ triumph. Anderson’s crayon and watercolor illustrations mirror the narrative’s simplicity against mostly white backgrounds. The bear in its savageness and entitlement is evocative as are the frailty of individual sunflowers and their recognition of strength in numbers. The yellowness of the sun and the sunflowers offers a constant reiteration of hope which ultimately prevails in a joyous scene of cultural celebration.

Sixteen acclaimed authors offer their varied perspectives on this joyous holiday of light and miracles. The common thread weaving through the entries is the celebration of Jewish religious and cultural traditions. Recurring themes include passing down recipes uncovering family secrets testing and forming friendships dealing with loss encountering paranormal spirits and navigating complex family histories that shape the present. Many stories delve into the nuances of Jewish identity in times of both crisis and joy addressing issues such as bullying grief good deeds and quintessential Hanukkah traditions like eating potato pancakes lighting candles and playing dreidel. The collection is touching funny awkward food-centric and sometimes painful collectively illustrating that Judaism is not a monolith. Ashkenazi and Sephardic families are highlighted with featured backgrounds spanning Polish Irish Moroccan Russian and Ukrainian origins. The main characters are mostly white Jewish middle schoolers. While there are clearly more stories to be told this anthology serves as an accessible introduction to a range of Jewish experiences. Variability in plot and character development make some of the entries flatter and more one-dimensional limiting the anthology’s potential to attract wide audiences however. Still the chance to read about celebration and coming together is invaluable.

Left to her own devices while Mom takes care of official business Alice finds a series of friendly tour guides—including the specters of a cat James Madison and Blanche Bruce the first Black senator to serve a full term—who take her around the building and fill her in on the party and electoral systems the jobs of each of the three branches as defined by the Constitution and the legislative process. If Madison’s assertions that “we don’t put one person in charge of everything” and that only Congress makes laws “and even the president must follow them” will have ironic rings to readers up on current events (or for that matter U.S. history) such claims do at least indicate how the federal government is supposed to work. At times though the book offers a look at some harsher realities: A chart showing how bills become law includes some of the many ways a bill can die Mihaly gives a nod toward the long struggle for equal voting rights for all and the book provides a straightforward recap of the events of January 6 2021. In the neatly drawn graphic panels Alice (brown-skinned like her mother) encounters racially diverse groups of tourists officials and workers including people who use wheelchairs.

When a bridge in Austin was renovated in the 1980s the crevices beneath it became the perfect home for Mexican free-tailed bats which moved in by the hundreds of thousands. Their human neighbors didn’t welcome them—until a bat biologist Dr. Merlin Tuttle explained how beneficial the bats were to the environment; they ate insect pests which meant farmers didn’t have to rely so heavily on pesticides. Now locals and tourists alike come to watch the bats fly out from their daytime roosts under the bridge each evening. Nolan smoothly tells this story for a young audience weaving in information about bat behaviors such as echolocation. Her straightforward narrative is set on colorful full-bleed spreads of mixed-media illustrations. The enthusiastic bat watchers pictured are a diverse group and the bats are engaging; many have kittenlike faces. The text seems long for a read-aloud but the pictures will show well and the subject will be of interest to the intended audience who may not have encountered bats in their own lives but will probably have formed some opinions about them. The backmatter adds some bat facts but for readers who want more Gail Gibbons’ updated Bats (2019) will fit the bill.

Families—indeed a whole community of families friends and neighbors—are preparing for Halloween. There’s much to be done ahead of the big day: decorating houses inside and out making or picking out inventive eye-catching costumes and shopping for delectable treats and pumpkins to turn into jack-o’-lanterns. And don’t forget all the picture taking. Nolan reminds young readers about safety measures: holding an adult’s hand looking both ways before crossing the street staying with the group and carrying flashlights or glow sticks. The weeks leading up to Halloween are generally a hectic fun-filled time and this joyous book reminds children and their grown-ups of that fact. The phrase “Is it time for Halloween?” appears periodically followed by a chipper “Not yet. There’s more to do.” The text is expressed mostly via succinct phrases rather than full sentences which adds to the excitement and may encourage emergent readers to navigate the text more confidently. The colorful illustrations pop with energy and feature an adorable all-animal cast of children and adults cheerfully participating in holiday activities. The book emphasizes friendly neighborhood and family efforts and demonstrates that Halloween can be a welcoming community-centered and safe event for all.

Months after the events of The Claiming (2023) Summer faerie princess Lady Dew Drop nicknamed “Dewy” remains a captive of the Winter Fae. They’re confining her to their Winter Court until Spense Ferrous an apprentice mage in the human kingdom Telridge tracks down a missing Heir—the child of exiled Princess Snow. It’s a seemingly impossible task that Spense willingly takes on as he and Dewy have fallen for each other. His plan is straightforward: Find the faerie Oracles and ask them where the Heir is. As this involves trekking the dangerous faerie lands Spense travels with his half-brother Crown Prince Dirk and other Telridgians to the mystical region of the Between. Meanwhile Dewy works with the unexpectedly accommodating Winter King Lumine to develop her water magic. If she manages to uncover a link between water and powerful blood magic it could change everything. Nielsen ably depicts the various environments; brisk cold and “winter-starved pines and fir trees” surround Dewy while “bent and stretched” trunks and branches form archways and corridors in the Summer faeries’ palace. It’s a solid backdrop for a breezy story teeming with modern dialogue and descriptions including a “royally pissed off” Dirk. The two lovers recall Romeo and Juliet but the author keenly expands upon their seemingly star-crossed status. Much of the narrative for example is about acceptance; for example Spense as the son of King Ferrous and Head Cook Cait isn’t treated as well as Dirk is. There are also profound moments that focus on understanding others’ cultures: Winter faeries struggle to learn human customs and Winter and Summer Fae are virtual opposites in many ways including in their attitudes toward meat-eating. The strong-willed ever-positive Dewy is a standout in a vibrant cast even if she pines for Spense who comes across as incompetent at times.

In his careful delineation of the causes of the most recent flare-up of antisemitism Lappin a professor of natural language processing first looks at the big-picture forces that are feeding much of global society’s grievances including widespread anti-immigration sentiment and ethno-nationalism. As the author demonstrates extremist movements—such as those whose members chant “Jews will not replace us”—seem to share four elements: loss of control over their lives and social context; diminished faith in existing institutions; the embrace of anti-elitism or “populism”; and a sense of oppression caused by another ethnic identity. Lappin walks readers through these events since World War II and he uses charts to show the increased prosperity of the top percentile and the impoverishment of the lower—and how social media feeds “dislocation” and “dispossession.” In addition to an examination of the roots of ancient and modern antisemitism the author addresses the extremes on both right and left as well as perspectives both Islamic and Jewish. All groups have exhibited deeply problematic periods of harassment and violence so that diaspora Jews have been forced “to choose between coping with a barrage of public abuse and personal insecurity or the concealment of their Jewish identity (passing quietly under the radar).” In the closing chapter “Notes for a New Progressive Politics” Lappin posits that since the state of affairs has broken down a new approach is necessary the elements of which should include a relearning of the history of antisemitism steadfast support for both labor movements and immigration and strict monitoring of the continued explosion of AI and the disinformation campaigns the technology makes possible.

The author founder of the Maui Institute and author of Men Are Easy (2007) lays out basic concepts of systems theory and complexity theory from the last half-century and integrates them into a grand framework based on Lenard Troncale’s systems processes theory uniting physical biological and cultural aspects of the world. Rasmussen covers ideas including self-organization the process by which simple individual actions yield complex emergent group behaviors (as when individual birds that instinctively follow a few rules on how to position themselves beside each other become exquisitely coordinated flocks); the structure of networks; chaotic systems like weather and financial markets in which tiny changes in inputs can generate huge unpredictable storms or sell-offs; nested fractal patterns visible in everything from lightning strikes to broccoli to bitcoin values; and the breakthrough process of “systems ontogenesis” in which low-level complexity makes a quantum leap to higher-level complexity (as when an assortment of organic molecules assembles itself into a living cell or farming villages organize themselves into a state). In later chapters the author applies these notions to higher-order phenomena like consciousness—slime molds she notes can do impressive cognitive feats like navigating mazes. Rasmussen’s treatise unfolds in concise well-organized chapters that contain a wealth of instructive photos and charts. She conveys sometimes abstruse scientific concepts in prose that’s admirably lucid straightforward and intuitively appealing. (“Self-organizing criticality is the point of catastrophic change to the system…The sandpile after an avalanche has flattened and its parameters have changed. A pandemic spreads until enough people either die or are immune and the pandemic ends. A spark leads to a forest fire leaving ash and debris.”) The result is a fine introduction for lay readers to systems theory that reveals its fertile insights in many ingenious guises.

What to do on this rainy Saturday? Poofy the dog and the nameless talking sandwich—both of whom readers will remember from the earlier book—convince Marco that video games are out (the sandwich lacks opposable thumbs) as is pranking sister Julia who’s now a potential ally. Then the sun emerges and Marco and the sandwich decide to perform a series of “nausea-amplifying” stunts for an audience consisting of Poofy Julia a garden gnome and a manic squirrel. Marco propels the reluctant sandwich perched on a skateboard through the “tunnel of doom” (a rotting log). Unappreciative Julia grumbles about her interrupted reading. Next Sandwich successfully skateboards off a ramp through a tire swing. The final “stupendously spectacular” stunt induces even Julia to put down her book and indeed it is heart-stopping. Initial success quickly turns to semi-disaster thanks to an unexpected application of Newtonian physics a misplaced hammock and an unexpected puddle. So many other laws of realism are broken that readers won’t bat an eye when things are miraculously put right. Previously overconfident Marco apologizes showing an iota of the sandwich’s sense. Changes in perspective like that from bird’s-eye to slug’s-eye views add to the sophisticated absurdity of this romp. Marco and Julia are brown-skinned.

In a nod to Carlo Collodi’s Pinocchio the child-sized puppet old Silvester assembles one day from mismatched parts magically comes to life. He learns to talk requesting “jam!”—and with loving care and assistance is able to walk well enough to go on excursions to the park. There Silvester hastily dubs Puppet “Kenneth” in response to the curious query of Fleur an observant child. Fleur’s mum has long been a fan of Silvester’s puppet theater and the foursome gather at her cottage where Fleur delightedly makes puppets from twigs and other found materials and entices Silvester to help her put on an impromptu show in which two lost children drive off a monster. In keeping with the narrative’s measured lightness Stewart’s fluid brush and line work lends warm informality to the figures in her mix of tight close-up full-page illustrations and sequential panels. Though Puppet as depicted is plainly wooden (the human cast includes varied skin tones) Fleur greets him with casual friendliness and everyone else expresses at most mild puzzlement; even some boys who initially mock his gait later apologize. “Didn’t I tell you it’s a lovely world?” says Silvester to his last and greatest creation—and it is for even though fear and tragedy are real Almond shows readers a world that’s “shambolic and beautiful and tentative and brave.”

British publisher and diarist Allen brings his love of notebooks to a lively wide-ranging history of bound blank pages. Notebooks he writes “interest me as a technology that has had tangible effects on the world around us.” The author started keeping a journal in 2002: “Writing a diary made me happier; keeping things-to-do lists made me more reliable (which in turn made those around me happier) and I learned never to go to a doctor’s appointment or a meeting of any kind without taking notes of what I heard.” Wondering how and when notebooks were invented and why their use spread he decided to fill a historical gap with the results of his own sleuthing. After an overview of record-keeping in the ancient world—diptychs papyrus and parchment—Allen begins in 13th-century Florence where ledgers first on parchment and later on paper a superior product imported from Provence became indispensable for business. Books of paper became indispensable for many artists as well who developed their techniques in sketchbooks. Notebooks grew in popularity finding uses in the home to keep track of accounts or compile personal anthologies of entries such as prayers medical recipes riddles and poems. Those anthologies evolved into commonplace books favored by Erasmus and W.H. Auden among others. Ships’ logs travelogues recipe books and naturalists’ findings are just a few of the many uses for notebooks across the centuries. Isaac Newton Swiss naturalist Conrad Gessner and Charles Darwin recorded their discoveries in notebooks; Leonardo da Vinci worked out inventions. In treating chronic pain or PTSD physicians have found that for patients keeping a diary has “proven therapeutic value.” As an intimate repository for thought notebooks Allen amply shows are essential.

The book’s narrator—an earnest light-skinned artist with curly salt-and-pepper hair—announces “This is a still life. A painting of objects sitting still. In a still life nothing moves.” A close-up reveals succulent fruit a quill pen and an inkwell and a castlelike dollhouse. In contrast to the painter and other characters rendered as bright flat caricatures the painting is portrayed with a range of colors subtle shading soft texture and a wealth of detail. As the artist continues with inspired musings about stillness two mice appear and run inside the painting. The narrator urges readers to ignore the “jammy footprints” emerging from an open jar within the painting. Next a dragon steps forth; the painter stresses that such creatures don’t belong “in this sort of painting.” Then a valiant knight arrives to slay the dragon and a tan-skinned princess appears on the dollhouse’s throne. Zelinsky’s hilarious action-packed scenes—a combination of hand drawing and digital work—contrast with the narrator’s serious admonitions not to acknowledge the dragon’s desperate plea for help nor to pay any attention as the princess uses a spool of thread to zip-line down to join the ensuing chaos. Readers will be left with plenty to laugh—and learn—about as the artist exits.

In an episode punctuated by disturbing dreams and visions Ivypool who’s caught between hope and despair after the recent loss of Bristlefrost her kit leads a multi-Clan expedition into unknown lands. They face battles with weasels and foxes encounters with wildcats both friendly and hostile and probes into the diverse realms of the afterlife. Lighter moments such as one cat giving another dating advice or a glimpse of a Twoleg eating something inscrutable (“two white things Ivypool realized with something colored brown and yellow between them. He put the whole thing into his mouth and took a bite”) occasionally relieve the overall heaviness of the story’s tone. By the quest’s end not only has Ivypool at last moved past denial to acceptance but the expedition has made a remarkable discovery. What the collective author doesn’t do here is offer even a hint of what that river of blood actually portends for the Clans beyond some vague fearful threat—curious readers will have to stay tuned.

The town of Nowhere is as exciting as it sounds. Honestly Viktor doesn’t have much going for him even by Nowhere standards except for Damon his sole tried-and-true friend who joins him for junk-food binges and virtual vampire killings. When school starts Viktor meets a few new faces including the girl from the family that just moved in across the street who’s actually nice to him. Viktor is excited to maybe have a new friend but he’s distracted by the weird way his dad’s been acting lately…like coming home late at night with blood on his face and shirt (the sight of blood makes Viktor faint). His assigned reading of Dracula for English class gets him wondering about some less-than-savory possibilities. This tale walks the line between casual and actual horror—it combines plenty of dad jokes and talk about garlic with on-page blood and serious discussions of taking lives—and Brewer manages to balance it all well. Viktor spends a lot of time with new people at school but these connections aren’t developed enough later in the story to make the interactions feel relevant. Still the story clearly sets readers up for sequels and perhaps these relationships will get more payoff in future entries. Characters are cued white.

Danticat begins this short but powerful collection of essays by quoting Haitian-born poet Roland Chassagne. The cited work includes the phrase the author chose for her title. “We’re alone is the persistent chorus of the deserted as in no one is coming to save us” she writes. “Yet we’re alone can also be a promise writers make to their readers a reminder of this singular intimacy between us. At least we’re alone together.” In 1963 Chassagne was taken to dictator “Papa Doc” Duvalier and disappeared. His experience encapsulates the two themes around which Danticat groups these essays the first devoted to writers who have influenced her and the second focusing on Haiti. In these pieces the author chronicles the memories conjured by a 2018 visit for the opening of a new library; her Miami speech in which she advocated for prolonged protected status for Haitians displaced by hurricanes; the influence on her life and writing of such authors as Lorraine Hansberry Audre Lorde and Toni Morrison the last of whom “turned pain into flesh and brought spirits to life”; her terror upon arriving at a Miami shopping mall during a mass shooting that turned out to be a hoax; and the frightening activities of a Haiti gang known as 400 Mawozo which kidnapped 17 missionaries in 2021. This collection like many has a grab bag quality to it; the pieces don’t cohere as well as they should. Still the author offers an elegant commentary on injustice and the mixed feelings one’s home can engender. As Danticat writes “things sometimes go differently than planned or hoped for and though home can be a safe place we shouldn’t always rush back there.”

Carla’s thrilled that Vision Screening Day’s approaching. She hopes she’ll need glasses because no one else in class wears them. Her friend Buster scoffs “You like to be different.” Next day Carla’s wearing self-made purple pipe-cleaner frames. She tells Buster she wants to see what styles and colors will flatter her when she gets real glasses. Every day thereafter Carla sports different frames she’s designed and constructed. She’s excited on Vision Screening Day but the final verdict’s disappointing: Carla doesn’t need glasses but Buster apparently does a conclusion that’s confirmed by an eye exam at the optometrist’s. Supportive Carla accompanies Buster and his dad there and helps Buster select his eyewear. Buster confesses that he doesn’t enjoy being different: His new glasses will make him stand out when what he wants is to blend in. Carla hatches a plan and gets crafting. Next day she colludes with her teacher and classmates. When Buster arrives everyone’s wearing Carla-fashioned glasses to welcome him; he doesn’t stand out after all. This uplifting reassuring story is about warm friendship and about being seen—literally—and accepted for who you are. Carla’s a supportive creative pal and this story should boost the esteem of kids nervous about getting their first pair of glasses. The high-spirited illustrations were created with a combination of watercolor and digital media. Carla and Buster are pale-skinned; their class is racially diverse.

Canines became a fixture in Leone’s life in 1994 when her then-6-year-old son Jesse made it clear he wanted a dog. The author and her husband bought him a bichon frise puppy named Goody and they nicknamed him the “Prince of Dogs.” Twelve years later—and a few months after Jesse passed away in his sleep and Leone was diagnosed with cancer—Goody died. Mourning her son and struggling to regain her health the author realized that she also grieved for Goody. Seeking a way to heal she adopted two quirky cage-traumatized bichons Lucky Dog and French Fry. Leone loved them deeply and pampered them with everything from the freedom to roam and play and $1500 dog beds to filet mignon steaks brought home from fancy dinner parties. The bichons warily returned Leone’s affection while she wrestled with maternal grief by writing a memoir about Jesse. Like her son the dogs were loved unconditionally but their emotional scars would “be there forever like mine.” Their deaths during the pandemic spurred the author to find two new rescue dogs Titi and Sugar to whom she wanted to reintroduce “their innate dog joy.” While Leone came to understand that all the dogs she cared for embodied some part of Jesse and his love she also came to accept that her grief the very thing that had brought the dogs to her was something she would carry for the rest of her life. Candid and bighearted this book about the healing power of animal companionship will warm the hearts of animal lovers and general audiences alike.