The House With Chicken Legs, by Sophie Anderson

Marinka would like to have a friend, a living friend for more than an evening.  But when you live with Baba Yaga and your line of business is guiding the dead to the Afterlife, you don't get too many living visitors.  Every night, Marinka helps her grandmother welcome the dead to their house (which does indeed have chicken legs!), get to know them, and then send them on their way.  But one night, Marinka decides to break the rules and waylays a dead girl, tricking the girl to stay on and become her playmate.  This act of disobedience triggers a cascade of events that quickly escalates out of Marinka's control and she must find a way to fix things.

An touching story with one of the most unusual likable characters (the house) you've ever read about.  Loosely based on Russian folk belief, the story is actually a true original and touches on the universal theme of trying to find one's way in the world, especially when the path expected of you is such an obviously poor fit.  The macabre setting (which in itself will appeal to Lemony Snicket fans) is ultimately incidental to a story that is about Marinka's search for warm friendship and a sense of meaning.

Ordinary Girls, by Blair Thornburgh

Young ladies may obsess now over to which college they will be accepted, instead of to whom they will marry, but in this modern send-up of Pride and Prejudice, the argument is made that little else has changed. Despite her best intentions, fifteen year-old outcast Plum has fallen for LSB (Loud Sophomore Boy) Tate.  Their old Victorian home is a death trap of peeling lead paint, thick walls that ensure that no one's cell phones have any reception, and bad plumbing.  When said plumbing fails altogether, Plum finds herself at Tate's house, borrowing use of his shower.

Her older sister Ginny anxiously awaits early acceptance at Penn  (but then, Ginny has a condition and is anxious about everything!).  Mother, who made her fortune illustrating a children's classic series about five country mice, is about to lose her source of income as her publisher decides to have all the illustrations redrawn by a new artist.  If Ginny cannot land a lucrative financial aid deal, what will happen to the family?

A clever mash up of Austen/Bronte tropes, modernized in a witty fashion, and guaranteed to appeal to the same gang that loved what Clueless did to Emma.  This is a more nuanced affair, maintaining more of the flavor and wit of the models, but does not necessarily break much new ground in the effort.  There is a point to be made here about the timelessness of Austen's books, but this is a rather peculiarly pedantic exercise in doing so.  Once made, the story itself is largely inconsequential and has much less to say about the world.

The Library of Ever, by Zeno Alexander

Lenora is bored out of her mind.  Dragged from one dull place to another by her inattentive nanny, she longs for an adventure.  So, when she is brought to the library she goes looking for the children's section.  She doesn't find it, but instead discovers a secret doorway that leads to the Library of Ever.  It's the place where all knowledge is stored and all questions are answered.  In order to stay she has to swear to the Librarian's Oath and accept an entry level position as the Fourth Assistant Apprentice Librarian.  Charged with answering people's questions about calendars, she proves adept and is quickly promoted.

Each step of the way, her challenges grow harder and harder, and she finds herself penguins and ant colonies, going into outer space, and rescuing lost kittens. Through it all, Lenora cleverly subdues her foes.  But the final challenge is the scariest of them all: facing off to the Forces of Darkness (as represented by the Board of Trustees) who are trying to remove books from libraries and promote "profitable" libraries. She must prove that she has what it takes to be a librarian and a defender of the library's motto, "Knowledge is a Light."

It is a fairly silly middle reader with a not-so-subtle message about the value of libraries and freedom of the press.  Things get a bit over-the-top at the climax but it all makes sense in the end, in a poignant way.  I enjoyed the book but it won't take you long to get through it.  I read it in just over two hours.

The Remarkable Journey of Coyote Sunrise, by Dan Gemeinhart

For the past five years, Coyote and her father have lived on the road, driving a converted school bus all over the country.  They live a free and casual lifestyle, going wherever they please.  But the one place they have never gone to is Poplin Springs WA -- their old home.  It was the death of Coyote's mother and her two sisters that drove them on to the road in the first place.

For Dad, going back is a definite "no-go," but now it seems that they need to do so.  When Coyote learns in a call from her grandmother that their old neighborhood park is about to be dug up, Coyote knows she has to return.  Five years ago, a few days before the tragic accident, Coyote, her mother, and her sisters assembled a box full of memories and buried it at that park, intending to return to it years later.  Now, it is perhaps the only physical remnant of that part of Coyote's life and it is about to be obliterated by the excavation.  So, Coyote launches a desperate plan to trick her father into driving across the country to rescue the box before it is gone forever.  It will take a lot of cunning, some dumb luck, and a huge cast of oddball characters to make it happen.

A road trip novel is made or broken by the adventures and the strength of the characters met along the way.  Part Room on the Broom and part Captain Fantastic, the adventures here can strain credulity, but the diversity of characters more than make up for it.  There's a gentle and plausible dramatic arc as Coyote and her father gradually reach the realm of acceptance and crawl out of the shell of denial that they have lived in for the past five years.  And, along the way, their fellow-travelers have their own revelations.

The novel pays back handsomely.  It's briskly paced and entertaining.  While not a deep read, there's enough emotional pay off to make this much more than some light middle reader.

Right as Rain, by Lindsey Stoddard

After the death of her older brother, Rain's parents decide to relocate to New York City from Vermont for a change of scenery and to start again.  For Rain, who is used to running through the woods with her best friend Izzy, life in the City is a challenging transition.  Everything is crowded and it is easy to get lost.  The people around her largely speak Spanish (which her two year's worth of study has hardly prepared her for).  And her mother warns her to be wary of dangers she has never worried about before.

She's not the only one having difficulties:  her father won't get dressed or leave his room and her parents are in fact splintering further apart.  And Rain comes to realize that her family are not the only ones suffering from changes and loss.  Frankie, a girl in their apartment, has lost her best friend.  Nestor, a homeless man in the neighborhood, has lost the job that gave him security.  The gentrification of their neighborhood has caused many people to lose their homes and their livelihoods. 

As the first anniversary of her brother's death approaches, though, Rain comes to realize that there are plenty of things to be gained.  Life is full of losses, but it also contains victories.

It's a good book with no particular surprises except for the unexpected philosophizing on the emotional impact of gentrification on a neighborhood, and the lack of much on death, leaving old friends, or depression.  All three of these latter topics come up, but Stoddard doesn't want to dwell on them (and surely enough has been written on them already to make that excusable!).  Instead, this is really about Rain's reset to living in a new home, making new friends, and finding her place in the community.  It's a joyful story full of kindness and affirmation.

Suggested Reading, by Dave Connis

Clara is horrified to find out from her school's librarian that there is a list of banned books.  Worse, the list has just been significantly expanded to include some of her favorites like Speak, The Chocolate War, and The Perks of Being a Wallflower; as well as the novels of her favorite author Lukas Gebhart.  The librarian explains that the books simply go missing from the shelves, so it is impossible to know that they have been removed.  Everything is restricted and no one will take ownership.  When she attempts to find out the reason, she is stonewalled by the Principal.

So, Clara decides to take action.  Leveraging off of a community service project she did that set up little community libraries around town, she sets up drop sites of banned books around the school in abandoned lockers, making them available to the students and encouraging them to be read.  The idea takes off explosively, as her classmates grow curious about what they are not supposed to be reading.  But when tragedy strikes and Clara's future is put in jeopardy, she must decide if her actions have been driven by the right motives.

Any book about free speech and libraries is going to be acquired by any decent public library (acquisitions librarians can't get enough of the things -- it's like cookie dough to them!).  That doesn't mean that it will necessarily be a good book in itself, so I approached this read with skepticism.  Some parts of it really annoyed me:  the tired repetition of the same four or five books (we DO realize that lots of YA classics are banned, right?), the same boring arguments pro and con, and the rather clueless way that Clara approaches her rebellion (how on earth could she be surprised that her actions would go unnoticed?).

But then, other parts of the book surprised me:  the changes of hearts in the educators, the recognition that even good acts can have bad motivations, and some nice insights about the power of act of reading (as opposed to tired cliches about the power of words).  As a result, I came out of this with a mixed review.  The book won't change your perspective about freedom of the press, but it might make you think harder about the importance of reading in and of itself.

All-American Muslim Girl, by Nadine Jolie Courtney

When Allie and her father are out and about, everyone can tell that her Dad is an Arab and suspect he is a Muslim, but Allie takes after her Caucasian mother and people frequently can't tell her heritage.  This gives her a unique ability to be privy to people's prejudices and hear the things people say about Muslims.

She's curious about that heritage:  what it means to be Muslim. Her father is largely lapsed and has discouraged Allie from practicing Islam, so she launches out on her own, finding a study circle of young Muslim women and learning more about the faith.  As she learns more, she struggles with what she believes and with wondering where Islam lies within contemporary American society.  Should she pray?  Should she continue to date?  Should she veil?  Should she fast during Ramadan?  And how can she explain to her atheist father why all of this appeals to her? Allie's clearly modern and open minded, but drawn to the traditions of the faith and the bonds it helps her form with her family (especially her grandmother).

It's a thoughtful exploration of spirituality and faith.  There are plenty of political dimensions to this story, but I'm drawn to it for its spiritual quest.  There are few Young Adult books that are respectful about religion, let alone embrace the pursuit of it, so the affirmation of Allie's search is a welcome addition (to put this in perspective, Converting Kate by Beckie Weinheimer -- published in 2007 -- is the most recent book in this subgenre I have read).

Courtney has a lot of ground to cover.  One particular agenda items (arguing that Islam is not necessarily a misogynistic faith) can lead to some stilted dialogue, but I think her point is well made.  The side plot about whether Allie should date or not is less developed.  It suffers from really being two questions:  how Allie should reconcile her relationship with her boyfriend when his father is a famous bigot and how Allie can justify dating of any sort when more conservative Muslims believe that dating is forbidden altogether.  It never really gets successfully sorted out, and perhaps cannot be.  Allies's reconciliation with her father (and perhaps her efforts to reconcile her father with his faith) is a final element of the story.  By this point, we're basically totally exhausted so I'm glad she doesn't spend a huge effort on this thread.  But it also reaches a satisfactory partial resolution.

It's a long book and not always as tight as it should be.  But life is messy and Courtney raises many thought-provoking questions in an entertaining story.

Unpregnant, by Jenni Hendriks and Ted Caplan

Veronica Clarke is a stone's throw away from graduating and being her class's Valedictorian.  She's popular and surrounded by similarly popular friends.  She's also pregnant and watching in desperation as her plans for the future vaporize around her.  She can't let her friends or family find out.

She knows from the start that she wants to terminate the pregnancy but the closest abortion clinic (that won't notify her parents) is in New Mexico -- a thousand miles away from her in Missouri.  She doesn't have a car and is loathe to confide in any of her friends.  But there is one person who could help: her nemesis and former best friend Bailey.  Bailey hates her just enough to be willing to help her get to Albuquerque.  A very funny road trip ensues.

Obviously, if you have strong feelings about abortion, this book's probably not for you.  While not quite a comedy, it certainly doesn't dwell for too long on the ethics of the procedure.  But while light-hearted and even funny at parts, the story is serious when it needs to be.  It succeeds largely by side-stepping the usual tropes (guilt, mourning, and anger) that usually feature.  Instead, we get treated to some spunky feel-good celebration of independence and liberation, and whole array of crazy guest appearances.

Overshadowing the story for me was the announcement on the cover that the book is already optioned for a cable movie (at this time, in post-production, with no release date announced).  That proved very distracting as I kept trying to imagine how all of this would look on film.  To be honest, the story really isn't strong enough to merit a film, but it probably won't suck either -- pretty much like the book.

This Is My Brain on Boys, by Sarah Strohmeyer

Addie Emerson plans to win the coveted Athenian Award so she can use the prize money to fund her attendance at Harvard.  To do so, she's developed a theory that attraction between the sexes is based upon sharing a common adversity.  And she's setting up a series of experiments where a boy and girl volunteer endure challenges together and then have their attraction for each other measured. It's the kind of understanding of attraction that Addie understands.  Because otherwise, she find most emotional reactions baffling.  If it's not all explainable through biochemical reaction, she's be hard pressed to describe it.

Last semester Kris and his friends vandalized Addie's lab, getting themselves thrown out of school. To make amends and potentially be allowed to re-enroll, Kris gets enrolled in Addie's experiment.  This has an unexpected (and unrelated) problem: every experiment where Kris and his partner get set up backfires in some spectacular way.  Where Kris is supposed to rescue the girl (and thus spark a romance) the person who ends up needing rescue turns out to be Addie.  And despite their torrid history and the test plan, Addie finds herself falling for Kris, which both proves her theory and invalidates the experiments.

This Emma-esque plot tries to liven up the rom-com with a bit of neuroscience.  It's cute, but a bit convoluted.  Addie's confusion about love seems more from being on the spectrum than from any confusion -- she just doesn't read people well.  That makes her eventual falling for Kris less plausible.  After all, she doesn't suddenly develop the cognitive skills to read faces.  Thus, where it tries to be different, it just gets muddy and hard to understand.  Cute title, but fairly predictable.

Open Fire, by Amber Lough

(I never thought I would read a YA book that opens with Olga's Revenge. This colorful anecdote from Russia's foundation legend forms an uneasy parable for this fictionalized account of the Women's Death Battalions of WWI.)

In Petrograd in the spring of 1917, it is obvious that things are falling apart.  The Tsar has stepped aside to allow the liberals and socialists to form an ill-fated attempt to keep Russia in the War.  Nonetheless, Russia is losing.  On the sidelines, Lenin and his Bolsheviks are set to strike when the opportunity presents.  For a young woman like seventeen year-old Katya, there is an itch to do more than work in a munitions factory.  So when an announcement goes out that healthy young women are being recruited to serve in combat roles and form a batallion made up entirely of women, she and her friend Masha answer the call.  Training is brutal and rushed and soon enough the young women find themselves on the front line.

Given how desperate the Russian position was in the Summer of 1917, it's hard to read this story with anything but dread.  The Revolution is still months away (and the book doesn't venture beyond July) but like a grenade with a pulled pin, all signs indicate that an explosion is inevitable. That a group of young women trained and fought with exceptional valor not only against an overwhelming foe, but also against sexism and discrimination from their own comrades makes for a thrilling ride.  It is an amazing story and well researched.

Be forewarned that the novel features graphic and intense violence.

Havenfall, by Sara Holland

At an isolated inn the Colorado Rockies called Havenfall, lies a place where portals join our world to the Adjacent Realms.  Every summer, delegates from those worlds gather for an inter-dimensional Davos summit.  Maddie, the niece of the Innkeeper, is trying to avoid her family this summer and comes to Havenfall to work for her uncle and see her old friend Brekken.  She's grown up at Havenfall and has always enjoyed spending time with the delegates.  Some day, she wants to take over as Innkeeper when her uncle is ready to retire.  Spending the summer will give her an opportunity to start learning the ropes.

But the first night, while Maddie and Brekken are off reigniting the fire between them, an incident occurs.  The result is a dead body, a missing bodyguard, and the Innkeeper fallen into some sort of coma.  Someone is trying to sabotage the Summit and perhaps much worse.  With the Innkeeper incapacitated,  Maddie has to step in and take over her uncle's role.  Furthermore, she needs to find the killer and determine what they are up to.  This leads her into a series of evolving and expanding mysteries.  Full of twists and turns, the mystery builds to a stirring climax.

Surprisingly entertaining.  As the first of a series, Havenfall is mostly about establishing the stage.  A lot of energy is put into exposition and explaining the complicated politics of the various realms, but the story is far from dull.  There's near constant suspense as characters cross and double cross each other in ever more creative ways.  The story is not always as organic or as smooth as one might like, but it delivers the goods in the end.  Characters also suffer a bit to the action, so that tantalizing views of Maddie's relationship with her family or the romantic sparks with Brekken are never fully developed.  Hopefully, that will be forthcoming in the next installments.

Sweeping Up the Heart, by Kevin Henkes

Amelia wants to do something different than just hanging around the house during spring break.  For once, her father has his break at the same time and she tries to convince him that they should go to Florida.  After all, lots of people go to Florida!  But he rejects the idea as being too "adventurous," and she ends up being stuck at home.

So instead she discovers a pottery studio, a love for working for clay, and a boy named Casey.  Casey in turn convinces her that the strange woman who has been loitering nearby is actually Amelia's long lost mother.  That isn't true, but she turns out to be someone just as special.

A very short and quick read, it didn't leave much of an impression on me.  Obviously, there's a story (as I summarized above) but there isn't much of a plot and certainly not much of a point.  The relationship between Amelia and Casey might have become something, but the mystery woman thread takes off before it can develop.  The mystery lady in turn is a bit of a fizzle.  I found it dull and full of nice but forgettable characters.

Prairie Lotus, by Linda Sue Park

Hanna and her father have come all the way to LaForge, Dakota Territory from California to make a new life.  Carrying only what they can haul in a wagon, Papa wants to set up a store and make a home.  Hanna dreams of finishing her schooling and sewing dresses in Papa's store, just like her mother did before she died.  But For Hanna, her modest dreams are beset with barriers because she is half-Chinese.  In the 1880s, in the Midwest, Asians are rarely seen and never tolerated.  Even the marriage of Papa and her late mother would be considered illegal.  Attending school is potentially also illegal.  With immense fortitude and drawing on her memories of her mother for strength, Hanna faces the prejudice of the community and struggles to realize her dreams.

Hanna is an inspirational heroine.  She has grit and determination and the insight to realize that many conflicts cannot be resolved through direct confrontation.  Yet, she doesn't back down either and shows little fear of being outspoken even in front of grownups.  In this respect, she is more like Anne Shirley than Laura Ingalls.  She's the kind of literary heroine that parents want their children to read about.

Her dedication and work ethic are admirable, and she shows many talents including strong aesthetic sense and business acumen (to Papa's benefit).  And even though Papa is thick headed in a way common to literary fathers, he is a kind figure.  In truth, the good guys (in which we'll include Hanna's friend Bess, the teacher Miss Walters, and Mr Harris) are all nicely drawn characters.  The bad guys don't fare as well, but they are there largely as symbols of greater evil (racism, sexism, and prejudice).

The novel has received a lot of attention for being an attempt to "correct the errors" of Laura Ingalls Wilder.  As for myself, I am less interested in the politics of the book and more interested in evaluating the novel as a story.  That's a little difficult in this case because Park keeps a laser focus on the social injustices that Hanna has to endure.  Along with that, Hanna's responses are almost certainly anachronistic.  As a result, the political message really becomes the book for better or for worse.  That seems like a lost opportunity, as I'm convinced that a story about a Chinese-American girl on the range is intrinsically interesting enough that the heavy stress on the social injustices that she endures, while realistic, is hardly necessary -- a little goes a long way.  All that said, I enjoyed the book and recommend it.

The Boy and Girl Who Broke the World, by Amy Reed

Billy lives with his grandmother.  His Mom was a junkie and his uncle's a famous rock star recovering from being pretty much the same.  Given grandma's penchant for smacking Billy around, it isn't too hard to see how she messed up her children.  Billy is your typical shy loser who gets alternately beaten up by the bullies at school and his grandmother.

Rome and Carthage are dead-end, washed-out western Washington town, whose glory days lay in lumber.  Aside from the uncle, the only notable thing about them now are being the setting for a popular series of YA fantasy books.  Dying industry has left behind a bunch of drug-addled losers who worship president King (a mildly incoherent and majorly narcissistic leader with a habit of threatening to bomb people).

Lydia dreams of dancing professionally.  Before her mother died, she loved her dance lessons, but afterwards there was no money for lessons.  All of that starts to change when Billy's uncle disappears from the public eye and reappears in Billy's attic.  And that isn't the only weird thing that happens.  There's a freak tornado that leaves behind a giant pit in the earth, growing evidence that Sasquatch is loose in the woods, and plenty of signs that Billy's house intends to eat him.  And, of course, the end of the world is coming very soon.

Wry and biting story that, despite its rather loony plot, has a great deal of fun along the way.  The style is very much in the Libba Bray tradition and anyone who enjoy the absurd humor of Going Bovine will love this novel. I don't know if I needed the end of the world to shake things up at the end, but it did conveniently ties up a lot of disparate ideas.

Stay, by Bobbie Pyron

Piper and her family arrive in town with little to their name.  Her father is searching for a job, their car has died, and her family is stuck in a shelter.  When Piper reflects on the previous months and how they've lost nearly everything in that time, it's hard to find anything worth hoping for.

Two things change her view.  The first is the local Firefly troop at the shelter.  In the old days, she was an active Firefly and even held a sales record for Firefly brownies.  The idea that she can have that piece of normalcy again provides comfort.  The second thing is a cause:  a homeless woman named Angel and her little dog Baby.  When Angel gets sick and taken to a hospital and Angel ends up in the pound, Piper and her Firefly friends try to figure out a way to help.  In a series of brave acts, the girls find that they can make a difference.  For no matter how much these girls have lost, there are people with greater needs.

If you like getting sucker punched with a story of a cute dog, a brave and kind young girl, and some kind adults, you can't really go wrong. Piper's generosity makes a nice role model and her intelligence and people skills are inspirational. It's all heartwarming and tear jerking (as one would expect), albeit far too traumatic for sensitive readers (my wife won't touch the book).  Still, this is a really sweet story with a message, covering issues of homelessness, mental health, and discrimination in an age appropriate way.  The story will give young readers something to ask good questions about.

Here in the Real World, by Sara Pennypacker

Ware doesn't like playing with other kids.  They make far too much noise.  He'd be happiest spending the summer at home alone, but his parents have other ideas.  They want him to make "meaningful social interactions" with kids his own edge at the Rec (a local summer program), a place which Ware can't stand. 

But he's found a way to make things work.  There's an abandoned half-demolished church next door where Ware can escape to and explore.  Imagining himself as a knight, he transforms the ruined building into his castle, complete with a throne and a moat.  But he's not alone.  There's a girl named Jolene there who is trying to plant a garden of papayas, with dreams of making money by doing so.  In her mind, Ware is full of silly ideas and he should start living in the real world as she does.  In time, Ware learns enough about Jolene to understand from where her cynicism comes.

The resulting tale is a gentle story of two outcast middle schoolers spending a summer together at their own speed.  There's a world of discovery and adventure here, all placed in a single abandoned lot.  For Ware, the summer is about learning to embrace his quiet introverted nature.  For Jolene, it is about finding that even the real world can have some happiness within it.

As rooted as this story is in reality, it has all of the whimsical magic of Pennypacker's animal adventure Pax.  Like that novel, Ware and Jolene innocently explore a world full of greater evils than they can really imagine, safe by fate and good fortune.  Sweet and magical.

Sick Kids in Love, by Hannah Moskowitz

During one of her infusions, Isabel meets Sasha, who's getting his own treatment.  Isabel has rheumatoid arthritis, Sasha Gaucher Disease (a rare genetic disorder).  They'd hit it off right away, but Isabel decided long ago that she wasn't going to date.  Dating is complicated.  Trying to explain herself, her disease, and maintain a relationship is simply too hard.  But with Sasha, it should be easier:  He also has a chronic disease.  He totally gets the paradox that they are both more than their disease, but also defined by it.

Isabel finds that she can relax in his presence.  She even finds herself opening up more to others as a result of the relationship she is forming with Sasha.  He's good for her.

But Sasha also opens Isabel to the realization that her control issues, her fear of making decisions, and her aversion to conflict are not actually related to having a chronic disease, but are in fact unrelated.  She has conveniently looked past and ignored them because she could blame everything on the arthritis.  When Sasha asks her to commit to their relationship, she finds to her own horror that she doesn't know how.  And that is just the start of a series of emotional challenges!

One of the greatest parts of this book is the subtitle ("they don't die in the end") because it completely throws off the trope of these books.  A death would have been convenient.  Once Sasha died, we'd have a teary funeral and Isabel would pick herself up and move on, always keeping the memory of her fleeting romance with Sasha in her heart!  We all would have cried.  Instead, Moskowitz presents us with a much harder ending:  everyone lives and they are both still sick.  That's what a chronic disease is about.  It doesn't ever go away.  Somehow life goes on and when you have a chronic disease and you're young, you have many years before you.  You know that what awaits you are good days and bad days.  Sometimes you will be well, sometimes you'll be in the hospital.  It's not particularly dramatic but it's a hell of a lot more scary.  Watching Isabel come to accept that she wants Sasha in her life and embrace all that that entails makes for some pretty heady romantic stuff!

I loved the growth of Isabel's character, her strength in confronting her demons, and the hugeness of her heart.  This is a really lovely story about two young people in a very difficult place, doing what needs to be done to grasp on to their piece of happiness.  It's an affirming and inspirational story.  Highly recommended. 

The Lie Tree, by Frances Hardinge

In Victorian England, young women do not pursue careers in the sciences.  Faith's interest in her father's studies in natural science is thus discouraged.  But for every time her mother tried to keep her close to the hearth, Faith doggedly tagged along with her father.  It was she as a little girl, after all, who found her father's most famous fossil discovery.

Now a young woman, Faith is concerned as her father (and the family by extension) falls into disgrace because of evidence that her father's work is fabricated.  A fortuitous summons to the small island of Vane to participate in a dig is just the tonic for escaping scandal.  But the scandal and worse follows the family and Faith becomes aware that father is hiding a much larger secret: a rare plant that survives in pitch darkness, lives on lies, and produces a fruit that can allegedly provide True Knowledge.  Confronting her father, she is taken into his confidence and helps to secure the tree in a safe place.  The next morning, her father is dead, allegedly from suicide.  With time running out, Faith must unravel the mystery of her father's death, the identity of the killer, and the mystery of the tree itself.

A dark Victorian mystery with some wonderful creep factor and macabre images.  Lots of twists and surprises and a stellar well-written cast of characters.  I'm not a big mystery fan, but this was enjoyable on several levels.  A story with depth, competing motives for doing both great good and dark evil.  And, of course, the tree itself which is everything one wants from a diabolical plant. Without introducing any jarring anachronisms, Hardinge does a great job of introducing an empowering and empowered heroine who exposes and challenges gender inequality while being equally and fatally blind to it in the story's most clever twist.  It adds just another dimension to this satisfying story of dark deeds and tragedy.

Out of Place, by Jennifer Blecher

Cove is crushed when she learns that her best friend Nina is moving away to New York City.  Cove has lived her whole life on Martha's Vineyard and never left the island.  Her mother, for reasons never fully explained, refuses to leave.  As a result, it is unlikely that Cove will ever be able to visit Nina.

Without Nina, there will be no one to defend her at school and no one to be her friend.  And while Cove has to endure some fairly intense bullying at school, she finds there are plenty of new friends to make and things to learn. One of those friends helps Cove learn of an audacious way that she might earn a free trip to New York City.  She knows that she has to take the leap, even if it means risking everything she believes in.

A surprisingly sophisticated middle reader that covers bullying, PTSD, and socioeconomics, as well as a familiar story of friends being separated.  My favorite part was a subplot about a retired seamstress teaching Cove how to use a sewing machine (I'm a sucker for the forgotten-master-teaching-the-young-acolyte tale).  Vivid characters and lively writing make this complex story surprisingly enjoyable.  Blecher knows how to make her points economically and the result is an enjoyable book that delivers a big punch in minimal pages.

Where the Heart Is, by Jo Knowles

Thirteen year-old Rachel is tired of being teased about her alleged romance with Micah.  Yes, when they were six, they pledged their undying love, but people grow up, right?  For Rachel, it certainly seems that way!  But Micah obviously still likes Rachel and grows jealous when she starts to explore relationships with other boys (and even dabbles with a flirtation with a girl).

Rachel meanwhile is learning to take care of her neighbor's animals and coming to terms with the fact that those animals are slated for the dinner table.  And along with everything else, Rachel's family is struggling financially and on the verge of losing their home.

While a pleasant read, this book suffers from a pacing problem.  The build up to the supposedly central issue of the book (coping with the loss of the family home) is introduced very late in the book.  And, once introduced, Knowles does not have much to say about it and rushes it along.  The real story is probably Rachel and Micah, but this gets buried in the rest at the end.  The end result is a bunch of loose ends.