In his debut novel the author introduces readers to his bass-playing FBI agent Gus Wheeler who’s in the prime of his career working as a field agent in Boston and pursuing his musical interests in a touring band. His newest case involves two longtime friends murdered in quick succession in (fictional) Kendalton Massachusetts. Gus and his partner Vanessa Lambert head up there just in time to examine the second crime scene where they discover a surprising signature from the killer—an old photo of a girl Rebecca Munroe who died by suicide as a teenager some years ago. When Gus and Vanessa ask the victims’ friend group about Rebecca they’re met with clear deception as the women claim they barely knew her. Gus a small-town native himself knows this can’t possibly be true in a place the size of Kendalton. The narrative shifts then to spend time with each of the women in the group and readers come to learn about their unique history as childhood friends. They also find out that Rebecca was no stranger to these girls and that her death is not as straightforward as it initially seemed. As Gus and Vanessa scramble to find the killer and uncover secrets the murderer’s rampage goes on. Although conventions of the genre abound in Dingle’s novel—the requisite will-they won’t-they between FBI agents the one evil friend who pushes the others into complicity—the action is well paced enough to keep readers turning the pages. The prose is occasionally striking such as when it addresses the very act of writing itself: “And it was with this feeling of apprehension of loss that she stared at the blank page that would at some point contain the words that woven together would become the eulogy.” Fans of classic mysteries and FBI thrillers in particular will be happy to race this one to the finish line.

Irish poet and novelist Rooney creates a well-researched account of the eventful peripatetic life of journalist photographer and fiction writer Annemarie Schwarzenbach (1908-42). The strong-willed glamorous daughter of a wealthy Swiss silk-manufacturing family Schwarzenbach grew from a young tomboy into a daring ambitious yet troubled woman. To Thomas Mann the restless Annemarie seemed a “rebel angel.” In a family that supported the Nazis she was violently opposed. Her controlling mother who had a 30-year relationship with a prominent female opera singer could not countenance Annemarie’s lesbian liaisons. Distancing herself from her mother Rooney asserts became her life’s work. Rooney chronicles Schwarzenbach’s love affairs; her marriage of convenience to a French diplomat which afforded her a coveted diplomatic passport; and her friendships the most enduring of which was with Mann’s children Klaus and Erika. Klaus a frequent travel companion introduced her to the gay underworld of Berlin rife with drugs. By 1932 she was a morphine addict. Psychologically fragile she was in and out of psychiatric clinics attempted suicide and taxed the patience of friends with her overwhelming neediness as she spiraled deeper into addiction and alcoholism. Writing and traveling Rooney asserts served her as “lodestones in time of crisis”: reporting photojournalism and even archaeological digs took her through Europe—Paris Venice Zurich Nice—and the Middle East Persia Afghanistan the Soviet Union and the Balkans; she traveled to the U.S. three times. During her last trip there in 1940 she met the newly hailed young novelist Carson McCullers who became besotted with her an attraction that was not reciprocated. Despite her mother’s burning her letters and diaries Rooney mines ample German French and English sources to inform a thorough biography. 

After Ellis’ best friend Lora disappears from Clearwood Home for Orphans the only clue is Lora’s bookmark upon which she’d written the phrase “The Forests of the Night.” Soon after Ellis is assigned as guardian to new resident Pip who doesn’t speak. Both girls feel a strong connection to the massive Ghost Tree—the fossilized remains of the only tree that didn’t rot away in the Blight. Ellis even hears the tree talking to her. After she and Pip see a huge birdlike creature pecking at the tree the girls are sent away to a summer camp where kids are forced to mine an energy source that powers evil scientist Mother Dear’s creations. Dealing in “bio-hybridization paleo-genetics robotics [and] artificial intelligence” as part of her plan to rule the world by replacing nature Mother Dear must destroy the last natural space on Earth: the forests of the night. If Ellis and Pip can’t get there first all will be lost but luckily they have the Ghost Tree on their side. The book’s very slow first half lays a minimal foundation for the book’s overall mystery. Persistent readers may feel rewarded in the second half which features more clarity and exciting plot elements. Ellis has little agency throughout mostly doing as she’s told which makes for a largely unengaging narrative. Most characters are cued white.

Despite being an “economic powerhouse” the United States “has managed to lose much of its manufacturing prowess” and most low-tech production has taken flight to other countries like China observes Olsen. We cannot simply accept an economy that runs singularly on services he asserts. “We need to make more of our own things.” Much of the problem lies in the tax code per the author which seems to punish the average American worker—the linchpin of the nation’s economic competitiveness—and reward risky financial speculation. To remedy the problem Olsen lucidly proposes a sweeping tax reform plan and suggests adopting a single-payer national health care plan and a “Child Sustenance Assistance Service.” The money to pay for these programs and tax cuts will come from taxing stock market and real estate speculation the latter of which according to the author not only artificially raises housing prices but also destabilizes communities (these are provocative points argued with impressive analytical rigor). Olsen’s approach is free of any partisan rhetoric or ideological axioms; in fact he roundly criticizes both communism and free-market capitalism as “too mechanistic.” At the heart of the book is a stirring paean to the nobility of work and the central significance of the American worker to the economy as a whole. (“A foundational principle of America is that the economy’s very purpose is to serve the needs and aspirations of the American workforce.”) This is a very brief book—well under 100 pages of main text—and such a quick treatment of so many complex issues can’t be decisively persuasive. The author’s discussion of alleviating poverty is particularly vague and seems to amount to little more than hiring more case managers. However the true value of this slim volume is that it stimulates further discussion by offering a perspective often neglected—one that places everyday workers rather than disruptive entrepreneurs at the top of the nation’s economic hierarchy.

Binder was born in Germany and moved with her family to Colorado when she was 5 years old. Her parents continued to speak German in the house though much to her mother’s chagrin Binder resisted speaking the language which she felt marked the family as outsiders in America. It was only as an adult as her mother was sliding into dementia that Binder finally acquiesced in order to feel closer to her. “Sharing a language is a form of love” she writes “I understand this now. And when my mother doesn’t recognize me anymore I won’t be her Lisalein but I’ll still be with her. I’ll be the woman with the curly hair who sits beside her and speaks to her in German.” In this memoir Binder explores her shifting relationship with her mother Helena during the latter’s illness which partially coincided with the Covid-19 pandemic. At the time Binder was living with her husband and daughter in New Hampshire and Helena had recently relocated nearby. She soon moved into a memory care facility where Binder visited her regularly documenting the peculiar culture of the place with its memory boxes and uninhibited residents. Sitting in Helena’s small room Binder contemplated how memory language migration and the complexities of a mother-daughter relationship had fluctuated over the course of the disease allowing Binder to better understand Helena even as she drifted further away from her. The author writes with the probing lyricism of a poet as she wrestles to articulate her muddled emotions. “Dementia isn’t a labyrinth anymore and not the sweet lotus either” she writes. “It’s a fire that burns inside the brain. It burns and burns and gathers strength until there’s nothing left but ashes and glowing embers. It finds its fuel in the things that make us human.” Readers will admire Binder’s refusal of sentimentality observant eye and determination to grasp answers that seem always on the verge of evaporation.

This exuberant rhyming ode to reading is primed to get kids excited about the wonders awaiting them between the pages of a book. As the authors wisely point out books are perfect anytime anywhere—and they’re for everyone. Readers are encouraged to give books as gifts to share them with friends and family and even to write and illustrate their own books. Savor them at bedtime too. There are even options for the youngest kids—board books with flaps to lift and mirrors adorning the pages so that tiny listeners can admire and make faces at themselves. Just like readers books vary in appearance and type—long short hard soft and everything in between. And who says books must only be read? Some books even help us sing. Best of all you don’t have to buy books: Public libraries offer them for free! Return what you finish then borrow more—as often as you like. What’s a better deal than that? If this book doesn’t turn kids into ardent readers nothing will. Besides the bouncy jubilant verses the energetic illustrations will do the trick brimming with ebullient colors and featuring a cast of spirited readers diverse in terms of both race and age.

Kwan lives on a quiet mountainside in 1941. Whether his family eats depends on what his father a woodcarver and his mother a painter can sell at the farmers market. After Kwan overhears his parents worrying over the lack of food in their onggi pot he ignores their warnings to stay away from Suka’s Farm and approaches the old Japanese man for a job introducing himself as Aoki—his legally assigned Japanese name. Cantankerous Mr. Suka initially turns Kwan down but finally lets him help care for the goats. Bit by bit Kwan chips away at Mr. Suka’s harsh exterior with persistence and kindness that the old man eventually returns. Kwan solidifies Mr. Suka’s respect when he recovers the goats after they go missing and Mr. Suka asks Kwan to tell him his real Korean name. The well-paced narrative artfully weaves in Korean terms and cultural references such as the children’s song “Santoki” which Kwan’s parents sing on the way to market and Kwan whistles to entice the goats. Chen uses soft washes and blends of bright colors to bring warmth to the detailed landscapes and cartoon portraits. In an authors’ note the Parks explain that they drew inspiration from their father’s experiences working on a goat farm as a child.

It’s easy for others to ignore the soft-spoken Marabella. But she has a gift: She notices things that others don’t. She even finds beauty in the tiny flowers that are almost choked out by weeds. To bring attention to their plight she uses chalk to draw a larger-than-life flower on the outdoor wall before school starts. Her classmates call her out for breaking the rules but her teacher Miss Tin recognizes her hidden talent and provides additional colors so she can draw more objects and moments she considers noteworthy. Inspired by her creativity others join Marabella and together they turn a dull ordinary wall into something beautiful. Even when rain washes away the lovely garden the youngsters have created over the course of a week Marabella remains hopeful pointing out other special images in the rain’s aftermath. Her keen sense of observation is rivaled only by her optimistic heart. Delicate softly colored illustrations perfect for a child’s eyes enhance this charming story with an important message. Marabella has light tan skin and a perky ribbon in her hair; her class is diverse in terms of race and physical ability.

“It’s worth the climb” Lily’s mother says as they open the door to their new apartment on the third floor of a walk-up. Though their home is just a few blocks from their old one in many ways it’s been a long journey; Mom and Lily have transitioned from a shelter for unhoused people to their own place. They’re supported by friends at the shelter a social worker and a kind neighbor who offers to watch Lily on weekends while Mom works to build a better life for them. The story celebrates their new opportunities—like Lily’s excitement about Mom cooking lasagna in their own kitchen—but also acknowledges the bittersweet emotions of leaving behind shelter friends particularly Lily’s BFF Madeline. Visits to the shelter offer comfort and continuity showing how Lily and Mom maintain meaningful connections while expanding their world with a new day care and friends for Lily and college for Mom. Sensitively illustrated by Everson in purples blues and cheerful yellows (Lily’s favorite color!) that add joy to the narrative this simple yet heartfelt tale balances realism with optimism. An author’s note with facts about homelessness provides valuable context making this a poignant and much-needed story for children and their caretakers alike. Lily and Mom are brown-skinned; their community is diverse.

Dubbing each a “super-small superhero” the author profiles 20 compact creatures in his main gallery and adds brief cameos for 21 more at the end. Writing informally he brushes in general observations about each one’s habitat diet and distinctive features then points to what makes each a “champion”— the honeybee is a “champion of teamwork” for instance while the reef sea star is a keystone species. For the main set presented in no particular order but ranging from the gopher tortoise to the microscopic and wonderfully durable water bear (aka tardigrade) Jones supplies both an isolated life-size image with labeled parts and a (usually) larger one in a natural setting. Not all of these animals are “cuddly or colorful” as the author notes of the cacao-pollinating chocolate midge but readers who take up his grand invitation to “step into the STADIUM OF THE SMALL” will come away with a deeper appreciation for the often-essential roles many of these mighty mites play in the natural world.

In some ways the author’s childhood was like one long summer at camp—he and his seven siblings were raised on a sprawling 84-acre Community Conservation Corps–built park property his parents bought at the end of the Depression and rehabilitated over the course of the 1940s. The seventh of eight children Antil enjoyed an idyllic upbringing surrounded by the hills and waterfalls of Central New York. Jutting from a nearby cliff that overlooked the property was the eponymous big white rock where the young Antil would sit and think about the world and his life reflecting on events from the eruption of a new war in Korea to a satisfying and profitable day of selling hot dogs with a friend. His childhood was characterized in part by the schemes of his father a commercial bakery owner which included building a bomb shelter to protect the family during the height of the Cold War. (“My father’s plan was that the flat roof of the bomb shelter would serve as a sun deck off the living room as if it would mask the structure’s hidden agenda its fictional purpose of withstanding a hydrogen bomb blast.”) The author who would eventually grow to a height of 6 feet 10 inches tried to resist “the tall fellow’s sport” (“playing basketball would be a charade” he thought “a ridiculous cliche”). Eventually however he was urged onto the court where he played well enough to help his team win a championship his junior year of high school. His senior year saw him switching schools and sleeping on a cot above a partially constructed ice cream parlor in Syracuse—one of his father’s failed business ventures. With humor and a great sense of time and place Antil spins stories of his coming of age in this unlikely setting.

The author has a novelistic sense of detail writing of his family members in a way that makes them seem slightly larger than life: “My father’s entrance coming in the house and into the light of the dining room was as matter-of-fact as a ship’s captain…He offered no formal greeting or smile; he paced about as if the meeting was a necessary interruption to a whirlwind he was riding on.” The narrative is episodic offering short vignettes that range from the incidental to the comic to the unexpectedly poignant. After a fairly jocular story about the “sex talk” he received from his father Antil reveals the significantly more earnest counsel his sisters received which he only learned of years later: “If you get in trouble bring the baby home. We’ll raise it.” Together these anecdotes perhaps don’t amount to quite enough to engage an audience with no connection to the author’s previous books or to the Central New York region. Even so there are many wonderful moments here that capture not only America at mid-century but also an off-beat family whose way of life for better or for worse feels quite remote from the present day.

Set on Avskild—a magical island protected from a world crawling with monsters—the narrative follows a group of teens preparing to earn their powers and defend their home. At 18 every student at Castle Vrodrmust enter Vanalf a mysterious dangerous cave that either grants them the magical abilities necessary to become a “Grimnir” or doesn’t let them leave at all. Hallik a natural leader and determined overachiever refuses to wait another year to earn his magic and find out what happened to his missing father. When the island’s protective shield is breached by “draugr” undead beings formed by evil and hate the safety of everyone within its walls is threatened (“a corpse stood before them sallow water-logged skin hanging from its body eyes pale white shattered teeth protruding behind tight lips that barely existed”). Hallik and a motley group set out to restore the shield before the island is overwhelmed by the opportunistic monsters—but first they must brave the depths of Vanalf. Hallik is a skilled responsible and driven protagonist motivated not only by duty to his land but also by the desire to prove himself. He sets himself apart through his quiet leadership—serving water to tired students keeping pace with the slowest runners and refusing to let his ambition overshadow his loyalty. The novel’s first half focuses heavily on training lessons and worldbuilding which sometimes makes the story’s length feel like a bit of a slog. The action doesn’t really pick up until later which might test the patience of readers eager for the real danger to begin. Overall gripping and heartfelt this first installment in Hunsaker’s series is rooted in the quiet power of those willing to lead before they’re asked to. Hallik’s journey is only beginning but it’s already one worth following.

Emma Moskowitz has a lot going for her—she’s a licensed marriage and family therapist who’s just turned in the first draft of a book on maintaining healthy relationships; she has a successful YouTube channel; she lives in a very nice Los Angeles apartment; and she’s happily planning her wedding to Ryan a man she loves. And yet after a conversation that’s over in "less time than it took to watch a network sitcom" she’s suddenly very single and focused on all the other traits that make her who she is: She’s someone who’s always getting dumped; she has generalized anxiety disorder sensory sensitivity issues and a lack of innate knowledge about social expectations; she hates vegetables and sharing food. What she decides to do next is unexpected: Rather than canceling the wedding she initiates Operation: Save My Date. She determines that she will despite all the initial arguments from her loved ones and online fans find a replacement groom and prove that Western ideals of dating and marriage are not the only ways to establish a loving worthwhile relationship. Her following explodes and she winds up partnering on a podcast that does extremely well which lands her on a very well-known talk show. And along the way she experiences failures embarrassment and successes in her quest.

Jessamine Bricker has a history of succeeding even in the worst of circumstances. When her teen mother opted out of raising her Jess’ Nana Blanche “clipped coupons like a fiend” to pay her tuition at Wren Hill Day School for Young Ladies where blue-collar Jess rubbed elbows with Nashville’s old-money princesses. Jess went on to nurture her upper-class connections at tony Harrow University parlaying them into a three-year stint working for one of the city’s “most feared wedding planners.” Realizing that spoiled young women with more money than sense might crave more than a single day of indulgence she opens Bricker Consultants helping wealthy young men create over-the-top proposals to delight their prospective brides. Working with grooms-to-be when the real clients are of course the brides is a tricky business that Jess handles with exceptional finesse. Still Trenton Tillard IV provides a special challenge. Trenton’s already proposed to Diana Helston but without the spectacle the social media influencer feels her Helston LuxeGram brand deserves. So Diana calls in Jess to guide Trenton into a more appropriate “Will you…?” Diana spirits Jess away to Golden Ash spa for a week of yoga facials and proposal planning. Unfortunately the getaway also includes weird lights in the woods corpses and a police investigation. The silver lining is Golden Ash chef Dean Osbourne and his wonderfully quirky family who offer Jess a tantalizing glimpse of life outside the perils of princess-pleasing.

It’s 2025 and Hannah a frustrated young fusion scientist vacationing in Scotland’s Western Isles is visited by a disfigured young man who was born in a colony on Mars and has come back from the future to help her perfect fusion technology in time to save Earth from runaway climate change and civilizational collapse. Now it’s the 2070s and Hannah’s son Andrew has become one of Scotland’s leading political figures by fighting against billionaire futurists and arguing that society has “the means to save ourselves… if we work together.” Yet his daughter Kenzie is building on her dead grandmother’s unfinished research to construct a fusion reactor for the Tevat Corporation which has given up on the planet and intends to evacuate its Shareholders (wealthy investors corrupt politicians and useful scientists like Kenzie) to Mars. Now it’s 2103 and Kenzie’s son Roban who lives with the painful physical disabilities experienced by the first generation of humans born in the Corporation’s frighteningly totalitarian Colony is learning to function with the assistance of a mechanical exoskeleton—and to gradually distrust the Corporation’s vision for a better future. Can Kenzie build the reactor her grandmother first theorized? Can Andrew convince his daughter to labor toward a better future on Earth rather than off it? Can Andrew’s political career survive Kenzie’s plans to abandon Earth and its people? Can Roban find a way to communicate his mother’s fusion discoveries to his long-dead grandmother before it’s too late? Is “the alteration of the past by the future” even possible? Dancing between decades characters and planets Reed’s latest may lack some of the lyrical beauty that marked his previous two books but it succeeds in brilliantly dramatizing some of the great questions of our time. Can we technologize our way out of the climate crisis or should we instead focus our energies on collaboratively solving the problem with the tools we have? Is Earth our only viable planetary home or can we adequately replicate its richness elsewhere? If the latter who will get to go? And what fate awaits those left behind? And is the future worth living for those who manage to leave?

The people of Remalia have enjoyed years of “peaceful relations.” But the kingdom’s neighbor to the south the Kushaani Empire has been abducting Remalians for its own slave trade. Remalia’s war council resolves to put a stop to the Kushaani slave raids meaning Prince Andric will finally get a chance to fight in a real battle. The king however is suddenly bedridden with a mysterious illness effectively putting Andric and Crown Prince Stephir in charge. The brothers quickly learn that Kushaani troops are far from predictable and that an “ancient scourge” may also have invaded the kingdom. With the help of Remalia’s unlikely allies—the Vanassi tribe capable of manipulating powerful “elan” (life force)—Andric and Stephir hope to emerge victorious and keep everyone in their kingdom safe. Wyatt and Larsen’s lengthy series-starter is teeming with characters and subplots. They’ve developed an engaging world—religious tension is rampant as worshippers of each of the nine deities have conflict with one another (“Sykorians were known to offer patrons indulgences in keeping with their goddess’s hedonistic doctrines”). The authors populate this world with a dynamic extensive cast including Quarian a shrewd leader of scouts; Andric’s friend Barak who becomes an advisor (so the prince can bring him along to war); and keen intercessor Shiralla. Considering the story’s epic scope surprisingly little happens; the brothers and the Remalian troops move from place to place with relatively few instances of battle action. The series’ titular prophecy remains largely obscure—the authors are surely saving some answers for sequels. That would certainly explain this novel’s concurrent plot involving Evir an Inquisitor on an entirely different continent who’s hunting a traitor among his people.

Narrator Molly Gray may now be head of special events at the five-star Regency Grand Hotel but she and her fiancé Juan Manuel the pastry chef are as cash-strapped as ever; the wedding they are planning is to be a budget affair. Meanwhile the Regency Grand (its geographical location remains unspecified) is hosting an event with the Antiques Roadshow–like reality TV series Hidden Treasures of which Molly and Juan are loyal viewers. After the hotel manager invites the Regency Grand staff to present any collectibles they may have to the show’s hosts before the shoot Molly learns that what she thought was a valueless ornamental egg is a Fabergé prototype worth a bundle. But just as Molly’s egg has been auctioned off at the hotel for $10 million it vanishes from its display case. The novel’s present-day chapters alternate with diary entries addressed to Molly by her now-dead grandmother who gradually tells the story of the egg’s provenance. To arrive at the truth readers have to wade through an awful lot of Gran’s personal history not all of it interesting or surprising and much of which would be more at home in a romance novel than a crime caper. Prose is hoping that fans of the series will inhale Molly’s family history even if it means being served a less fully fleshed present-day mystery and that gamble may well pay off as the book has the series’ customary charms: a stouthearted protagonist who has trouble reading social cues and an elegant anachronistically wholesome setting in which platitudes are considered worthy of not snark but serious reflection.

After his parents fall “on hard times” young Edward Lear (1812-1888) the 20th child in a big family is sent to live with his older siblings. Amid this nurturing environment he explores his creativity while dealing with his “Demon”—chronic epilepsy. By age 20 he’s in high demand throughout England as a talented natural history artist but he feels like an outsider due to his humble origins and his Demon. His work documenting the Earl of Derby’s private collection of animals and his interactions with the earl’s young visitors inspire some of his most famous written works for children. After traveling the world yearning for companionship he settles down with his beloved feline; both would die months apart embodied in a stunning spread with Lear slowly transforming into the titular bird from “The Owl and the Pussycat” as he flies to his grave. Though playful Hill’s lengthy text may find a more receptive audience among adults interested in the history of children’s literature. While young readers will find Lear a sympathetic figure they may not entirely understand his frustration with marriage and relationships (“Such odd couplings could only happen in the world of nonsense”) or his feelings of alienation in restrictive Victorian society. Still Hill’s writing complements Carlin’s ethereal illustrations creating a fanciful world full of wonder and nonsensical imagery.

Three days ago Marin James’ cousin Sam Bullvane died. Sam was her best friend her port in the storm as she grew up in their tiny mountain town with a uninterested father and an absent mother. Though his death was assumed to be an accidental drowning due to an overdose Marin knows Sam was murdered. Now she’s determined to find the culprits and make them pay. Assuming the fake identity of Jamie Vane and enrolling in Huntsworth Preparatory Academy are easier than expected. But ingratiating herself with Sam’s former friends—and murder suspects—proves riskier. Quiet girl Baz Hallward feels like the easiest mark. Henry Wu is all games tinged with danger. And Adrian Hargraves with his perfect face initially wants nothing to do with Marin—and she immediately loathes him. As her investigation deepens she enters a heated entanglement with Henry and Adrian while uncovering their secrets. Mirrors show her supernatural horrors and she’ll have to confront them too if she wants to learn the truth. Marin’s early sleuthing sings with tension but aimless philosophical musings and twists that attentive readers will see coming make it unravel quickly. Overwrought language obscures the escalating danger. Most characters present white; Henry’s surname implies Asian heritage.

Moose’s gift is strength but he hasn’t mastered controlling it—or apologizing for the chaos he leaves in his wake. Shadow the puppies’ feline instructor tells them that today they’ll have to leave the “magical puppy world” behind and locate the rest of the superpup pack who have disappeared—possibly to the human world. Moose leaps through a portal and finds himself in the middle of a fountain. He soon meets his first human Violet who’s stunned to discover he can talk but offers to help him on his quest which involves tracking down a magic ball. Moose and Violet realize that the ball is on exhibit at a local museum but their attempts to extract it strung out over six chapters wear thin. Powell never makes it clear what the magical puppy world is or what dangers the pups are protecting the human world from. Still the titular characters make an entertaining pair with Type A Violet serving as an effective foil for goofball Moose. The pooch’s irrepressible high spirits are endearing; readers will identify with his moments of doubt and his inability to remember the rules that govern the human world. In the perky cartoon illustrations Violet presents East Asian.