6 Times We Almost Kissed (And One Time We Did), by Tess Sharpe

While looking very much like a cute romance book about two girls who are best of friends and come close multiple times to actually locking lips, this novel is actually weightier material.  The girls are Penny and Tate, daughters of two best friends who have known each other most of their lives.  Tate's mother is in need of a new liver and Penny's mother volunteers to donate a part of hers to save her friend.  To make the whole thing work, the four of them have to move in with each other.  That would be fine, except that Penny and Tate have a long and complicated history which they have generally tried to avoid discussing or revisiting.  That proves difficult when the events and people involved are not exactly going away.  

The story contains a number of typical rom com tropes like the two girls having the share a bed after a snafu with their hotel reservations, but it quickly becomes apparent that there's more to the book.  A few years ago, Penny and her father were in a kayaking accident in which  Penny's father was killed. Penny's mother has never worked through her grief (or allowed Penny to do so).  This has left an awkward dynamic in their relationship, which being in close proximity with their best friends make much worse.  It's really the reconciliation of this painful history that ties the entire story together, making the predictable eponymous kiss at the end of the book something of an afterthought.

I liked the dynamics between the characters.  The complicated relationship between Tate and Penny which is far less romantic than one would expect.  The mothers (with each other and with their daughters) also bring in complications that are handled with aplomb by the author. I find the story of suppressed grief to be compelling enough to push the story forward.  And I even find the near-miss kisses to be surprisingly more dramatic than one would find usually in a romance.  This is a book of great characters and powerful emotions.

It's also a terribly busy story.  As often happens in these cases, the ending is a really hard trek tying up all of the loose ends.  Things suffer along the way.  A subplot involving an ex-girlfriend (Leslie) does nothing for the story and is even a bit bizarre.  More importantly, even the liver transplant story feels superfluous -- it provides an excuse for everyone to be together, but adds little else to the actual story.

Time to Roll, by Jamie Sumner

Ellie is dealing with a lot of changes this summer.  Her Mom has  gotten remarried -- to her gym teacher -- and is traveling Route 66 with him for their honeymoon for the next month.  Her Dad, who's never been that close wit her, has come (with his new wife and their boys) to live with her for the month.  The result is chaos and Ellie would do just about anything to get out of the house.  Her best friend Coralee has an idea:  they should both compete in the Little Miss Boots and Bows together.  Coralee lives for beauty pageants, but Ellie wouldn't be caught dead in one.

One of the more obvious reasons Coralee doesn't like the idea is that she has cerebral palsy and needs a wheelchair to get around.  She's not embarrassed by this fact, but often annoyed by the way her wheelchair causes people to treat her.  But Coralee is persistent and Ellie agrees to go along with it.  It's just about everything Ellie feared.  And when the organizer starts using Ellie to promote the "diversity" of the event, Coralee grows resentful of the attention Ellie is getting.  Ellie decides she has to take control and do this on her own terms.

There's undeniably excellent representation here for children with disabilities and the best part of this story was the character of Ellie.  She has the right amount of spunk and intelligence to be interesting.  But the  story felt rough and unfinished.  The development of Ellie's relationship with her estranged father had potential but never really takes off and the tensions with Coralee get a rushed resolution.

The Sky We Shared, by Shirley Reva Vernick

In the final days of World War II, two girls try to do what they can for their families and countries, and learn along the way that the right thing to do is often not as simple as grownups make it sound.

Nellie lives in Bly, Oregon.  Her father has been away for years now, defending the Aleutian Islands against Japanese advances.  Her next-door neighbors have just lost their elder son in combat in Europe and the younger brother, Nellie's best friend Joey, struggles with anger and grief.  Nellie knows that she can't really understand what Joey is going through but she wants to help him however she can.  Meanwhile, as a keen observer of his town, she sees the varying ways that the war has impacting the others around her as well.  It all seems to come down to luck! The war itself seems far away from her as all she sees first hand is rationing and blackout curtains.

In a village in southern Japan, Tamiko and her aunt sit worrying about Tamiko's brother who has trained as a kamikaze and prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice for the Empire.  Tamiko is proud of her brother but wishes he were home safe.  She understands the war in inevitable and everyone must give their best if Japan is to emerge victorious.  

So, Tamiko is excited to serve when her class is summoned to a factory to help assemble huge paper balloons.  They work long and arduous hours for weeks putting together these balloons with big sheets of washi paper.  At first she knows only that balloons are part of the war effort.  It's only when their work is completed that she learns that they will be used to drop bombs on the Americans.  She's OK with that as the Americans are the ones who are trying to hurt them, so anything that will bring victory quicker is to be celebrated.

But in the weeks that follow, things change dramatically for both girls.  The Americans start a ferocious bombing campaign of the Japanese mainland and Tamiko experiences war first-hand as her villages is destroyed.  And in Oregon, Nellie one night catches sight of what she thinks at first are shooting stars in the sky.  But instead, they turn out to be mysterious floating balloons.

A haunting story based on the true history of Japanese Fu-Go campaign which brought hundreds of floating explosives over North America in the dying days of the World War II.  For the most part, these attacks proved ineffective, but they did cause the only domestic casualties of the War in Bly, Oregon when one of the bombs killed a pregnant women and five children on a church picnic party.  Knowing nothing of the topic, I was fascinated and horrified at the way Vernick chooses to tie her two protagonists -- who never meet face to face -- together.

With a sometimes overly enthusiastic attention to historical detail, Vernick builds sympathetic portrayals of her characters who are typical young teens in so many ways but also products of their country's propaganda.  You clearly sense that they could be friends, but in a time of war such sympathy is impossible.  The novel becomes an unapologetic look at what causes hatred and fear for the alien other and what is necessary to pull back and learn to forgive.  Written for a middle school audience, the lessons are straightforward and unambiguous but there is wide room for discussion and debate for thoughtful adults as well.

This is children's literature at its finest.  It takes an interesting idea and spins it into an opportunity to explore the world and how it works.  It could be accused of trying a bit too hard at times (for example, a late inclusion of a nasty racist incident distracts from the general focus of the story), but there's so much here for readers to explore and think about.  It achieves its goals without sacrificing the story, which remains entertaining throughout.  Highly recommended.

Spin, by Rebecca Caprara

Caprara presents us a retelling of the story of Arachne, the young weaver who challenged the goddess Athena and was transformed into a spider for her hubris.  In this version, Arachne's antipathy towards the gods is born out of a life of economic hardship and social injustice.  The stories of the gods, clearly written to uphold patriarchal norms, hold no value to her.  She doesn't solicit divine intervention, but rather sets out through her own hard work to cultivate her talent.  Her efforts to set forth justice through her work is hindered at every turn by men, by the community, and ultimately by the gods themselves.

Not content to set the record straight on Arachne, Caprara takes apart most of the genre, calling out its misogyny, violence, and perversity with a strong grasp of the material.  Feminist retellings of classical literature have been done before, of course, but rarely as well as they are here.  The book is written in generally excellent verse and this gives the customary gravity but also evokes the epic style itself.  It's not Ovid, but it's a fitting tribute to the way such stories are told.

Caprara's instinct to make calls to action give the novel the taste of a screed (which will mostly be preaching to the choir as it is hard to imagine Ron DeSantis plucking up a copy of this book from his public schools' burn pile).  The writing could never be accused of subtlety!  A lot more could have been done without always connecting every dot.  However, that doubt in the reader's intelligence is a small flaw for this is a beautifully written tribute to Greek mythology and a work of great contemporary relevance.

Unseelie, by Ivelisse Housman

Iselia (or "Seelie") and her twin Isolde have managed to survive since they had to flee from home through their wits and their magic.  And it was their magic that first got them into trouble.  Seelie is a changeling who wields poorly-controlled magic that tends to get them into trouble.  But it is Isolde and her plan to burgle the home of the powerful enchantress Leira Wildfall that puts them in enough danger to set off the events of the story.  

While they are breaking in they find themselves face to face with another criminal duo (a boy named Maze and a girl named Odani) who are attempting to do the same thing.  The four of them are caught and have rely upon each other for their escape.  A much bigger heist/quest ensues where the four young people face greater and greater challenges, revealing strengths and powers that they didn't know they had.  All in all, pretty typical and unremarkable.

What makes this fantasy story about magic and fairies different from the rest is Seelie.  She's neurodivergent.  The idea is born from a theory the author has that people who were accused of being changelings or possessed by spirits were really autistic.  And so she imagines how an autistic person would understand a fantasy story.  Seelie's view of the world is our view.  From Seelie's understanding of her magic powers to the basic way she communicates with the others, she struggles.  Events are not always linear.  A huge stress is placed on sensory perception:  caves that are pitch black, walls that seem endless, lights that blind, and so on.  Scenes are not always easy to follow as Seelie sorts out what is going on around her, but they come together in their own way in the end.

The result is storytelling that is fresh and a voice that is unique and distinct.  However, I was less taken by story, which was repetitive (endless variations of the same basic set-up:   a battle that they inevitably lose, a hasty deal or a rash decision to escape the leaves Seelie disoriented, and then it just happens again).  There's an endless supply of new characters to supply these iterations of conflicts, but no clear direction to the story.  And a plot twist at the end suddenly undoes most of the understandings developed during the novel in order to create the requisite cliffhanger for the second half of this duology.  I'll entertain that my expectations for the story may bear a neurotypical bias, but I found the story boring.

The Coldest Winter I Ever Spent, by Ann Jacobus

Del suffers from anxiety and panic disorders, which she has in the past self-medicated with alcohol and narcotics.  A suicide attempt a year and a half ago brought her to live with her Aunt Fran, an art dealer in San Francisco.  Now in recovery, Del is planning to start school in the Fall, works on a suicide help line, and is excited that her high school crush Nick is coming to visit.

However, the panic attacks have not gone away and there is temptation everywhere for Del to relapse.  Nick is friendly, but he doesn't want to have anything to do with her because of all that baggage.  Helping suicidal people feels good, but it's challenging to Del and a failed rescue leaves her doubting her ability to do the work.  And then Aunt Fran starts showing signs of getting sick, which morphs into a terminal cancer diagnosis.

As Fran's condition declines, she decides to stop seeking treatment and starts hospice at home.  But it isn't enough.  Fran doesn't want to let the disease take its course and she asks Del to help her get to Oregon so she can get help in terminating her life on her own terms.  For Del, who has struggled so long with fighting her own suicidal impulses (as well as talking her callers out of them) she is reluctant to help her Aunt "speed up the process."

While plenty of YA novels use death as a dramatic device (dead mother, dying best friend, etc.), very few focus on the process of dying and hospice the way this novel does.  The book is well-researched and intelligently discusses the process of assisted suicide.  Moreover, the latter part of the book becomes a detailed catalog of the later stages of dying and it's quite eye-opening.  The story doesn't make for the cheeriest of reading but there's a raw honesty to the way the experience is portrayed and the impact on Del and her family and friends.  I feel that alone makes this a notable book.

A Scatter of Light, by Malinda Lo

When pictures of Aria topless find their way on to Instagram, her parents decide it would be best if she spent her last summer before college with her grandmother in San Francisco rather than unsupervised with friends on Martha's Vineyard.  While she is naturally resentful of this decision, she eventually finds her summer to be memorable.  

Set in 2013, right after California legalized same sex marriage, Aria undergoes her own realization that she might be a lesbian as she falls in love with Steph, her grandmother's gardener  At the same time, her grandmother Joan opens Aria's eyes to art.  Aria, who wants to study astronomy and is on her way to MIT, has never entertained that she has artistic leanings, but under her grandmother's guidance, she starts to blossom as an artist.

In sum, a coming of age story with several different facets. Aria's transformation is interesting to follow, but she's a surprisingly dull protagonist.  She goes through a number of important self-realizations, but they mostly seem to bounce off of her and I felt largely excluded from what she was experiencing.  It doesn't help that both Joan and Steph are cut out of the story rather abruptly, leaving Aria on her own to sort things out at the end.  And instead of doing so, the novel simply jumps ten years ahead after everything has worked out.

Intended to be a companion work to a much heavier novel called Last Night at the Telegraph Club, this novel stands on its own and makes only fleeting reference to the characters of that book.

Remind Me to Hate You Later, by Lizzy Mason

As the subject of her mother's blog, Jules has lived her entire life in the spotlight.  It's not a place where she's ever been comfortable, but her mother refuses to stop writing about her daughter, often in great graphic detail.  Every embarrassing moment in Jules's life has been fodder for her Mom's millions of followers.  The more mortifying the event, after all, the better for ratings.  Never mind that the violations of privacy are driving Jules to depression and self-harm.  Tragedy ensues when, after a particularly invasive post that discusses Jules's burgeoning sex activity, Jules decides to end her life.

In the aftermath, Jules's best friend Natalie tries to cope with the loss.  She knew plenty about Jules's misery but she didn't understand how bad it was for her.  She despises Jules's mother for what she did to Jules. And she hasn't stopped.  Now she's writing a book to capitalize on the experience!  But Natalie also wants to explore her own role in the tragedy and address the guilt she feels for moving on.

The first half of the book, told by Jules, is a harrowing story of parental abuse.  But while it gives us a clear sense of what she went through, it turns out not to be the most interesting part of the novel.  It's really the second half, where Natalie takes over, that brings the pieces together.  For one thing, Natalie is a far more reliable narrator, with a strong sense of obligation to get the story right.  And while she is immensely sad and angry about what happened to her friend, she recognizes that there are multiple sides to the story.  She even eventually comes round to being willing to sit down with Jules's mother!  She also struggles with guilt as she and Jules's boyfriend develop romantic feelings towards each other.

The story packs a pretty heavy punch and is a compelling read, but it transcends the usual suicide tropes by spending considerable time on how people's lives go on after a tragedy.  So, while there is plenty of grief, the story doesn't really dwell on it. I also found the subject of social media addiction to be quite interesting.  A lot more could have been made of it, but Mason avoids preaching and simply sets out the point that Mom's narcissism (fed by her followers) really was the trigger for this tragedy.  And her daughter's compulsion for paying attention to those posts sealed her fate.  That leaves us food for thought.

We Weren't Looking to Be Found, by Stephanie Kuehn

Two girls of color from different worlds room together at a residential psychiatric facility and seek clarity and connection.  With the possible exception of the racial diversity in this novel, this has been done so so many times, what could possibly make this iteration stand out? Insight, patience, and charisma.

Dani comes from a well-off family in Dallas.  Her mother is an ambitious black politico and she can't stand it.  To escape what she sees as the hypocrisy of her family, she drowns herself in alcohol, pills, and parties.  And when it all gets to be too much, she runs away and ends up getting sent to Peach Tree Hills, a facility for young woman outside of Atlanta.

Camila loves dance and after three years of auditions she's finally gotten herself accepted to a dance school.  But the stress of getting this far has taken its toll and Camila developed a habit of cutting to relieve her pain.  The breaking point, however, is when her parents inform her that she can't go because the money that was to have paid for school is gone.  In crisis, she tries to end her life and ends up at Peach Tree Hills.

Both girls are angry and frustrated, convinced that their issues have everything to do with their parents and other adults who want to keep them down.  But through patient guidance from the facility's caregivers and the bond that develops between them, they begin to dig their way out on the road to self-discovery.  A minor subplot about a cache of found letters written by a previous resident adds some pathos to their search.

The characters make this story.  Dani and Camila are intelligent and articulate advocates for themselves.  Even in the beginning when they don't have the focus they need to find their way out, they are fearless and determined.  They make plenty of mistakes and do things that are plainly stupid, but these are their mistakes to make and they accept the responsibility for them.  There are a few tears but never any self-pity from these girls.  That makes this novel rather unique in a genre that tends to wallow in navel-gazing and self-hatred.  There were times when the story seemed to drift (the whole letters cache being the most obvious example), but Dani and Camila kick ass from beginning to end.

Miracle, by Karen S. Chow

For Amie, her father has always been the muse for her art.  It is his love for music and his love for her playing that has helped her succeed at violin.  And while he is dying of cancer, she tries desperately to please him.  She know the prognosis but it can't stop her from hoping that somehow he will get better.  When he does eventually succumb, she is bereft and finds that she simply cannot play at all anymore.

In the ensuing months, she works through guilt and anger to try to find a new equilibrium and build a new hope of her own, rekindling her music.

A better-than-average story of grief and recovery, helped by the beautiful way that Chow works music into the story of Amie's relationship with her father.  Another aspect I liked was the contrast between the way that Amie and her mother copes with their loss, showing the complexity of dealing with one's own needs balanced against those of another.  While each of them attempt to solve their own problems in order to not burden the other, the find that it is really something they need to do together.  Finally, instead of a clean ending with some sort of full recovery, we find only hope for the future -- a solution that felt right.

Hamra and the Jungle of Memories, by Hanna Alkaf

There are certain rules about the jungle that every Malaysian child knows:  always ask permission before you enter, never take anything without permission, and never give out your real name.  But Hamra doesn't care.  It's her thirteenth birthday and everyone has forgotten.  No one has done anything more than order her around.  So, she enters the jungle, brazenly refusing to seek permission, and takes a piece of fruit home to her family.

The fruit turns out to be magical and the fearsome weretiger who owns the tree it came from demands compensation for her offense -- Hamra must go on a quest to help the weretiger become a man.  That quest sends Hamra, her best friend Ilyas, and the weretiger on an adventure through the realm of fairies and demons.  They struggle with a variety of magical forces to restore the weretiger's humanity and unearth his history, which she finds is intertwined with her own family's history.

Heavily populated with Malaysian culture and folklore, Alkaf spins a story loosely based on Little Red Riding Hood and set in the middle of the Covid Pandemic.  It is a wildly incongruous setting where Hamra and her companions do things like use invisibility spells to dodge detection from police enforcing the quarantine.  That complexity doesn't always work, making the story feel crowded.  It is also long and repetitive as similar events (taking things without paying for them, narrowing escaping certain death through a surprise visitor, etc.) happen again and again.  After a while, the narrow escapes become largely indistinguishable.  A final complaint I would have is that the heavy use of unfamiliar words and settings, while delightful in theory, makes the story challenging to read and it takes a while to get into it.

Leeva at Last, by Sara Pennypacker (ill by Matthew Cordell)

Leeva's mother only cares about fame.  Her father only cares about money.  Neither of them cares anything about her.  When Leeva finds out that the town has a school and gets excited about attending, her parents laugh off the idea.  School?  What an absurdity!  What good could school ever do for you?  But Leeva is curious and when her curiosity leads her to sneak out of the house (violating the "Employee Handbook" her parents have created for her) she discovers a whole world out there.  It's a world full of books, homemade cookies, an orphaned badger, and a hypochondriac boy in a hazmat suit.  Most of all, it is full of human beings making connections.

In an absurd style that will remind readers of Roald Dahl or David Walliams, Pennypacker deftly explores a variety of topics including friendship, family, and creativity.  It's a story that cannot be taken seriously and younger readers who can't recognize the satirical elements may find it confusing.  I personally found the abusive nature of the humor disturbing.  But if you delight in books that are so cruel that it is "obvious" that they are not to be taken seriously, this can be a silly read.

A Song Called Home, by Sara Zarr

Lou and her sister Casey have a hard time adjusting to the changes brought on when their mother decides to get remarried and moves them out of the city and into the suburbs.  Their new stepdad Steve is a pretty good guy, but for the girls things were fine the way they were.  They had their school and their best friends.  Also, after dealing with their father's drinking problems, they don't exactly have a lot of trust.  Gradually, the family comes together.  A guitar, left for Lou on the doorstep (presumably by her father) provides a central theme to tie everything together.

The characters are all excellent, but the efforts of Steve to break through to the girls and Lou's complicated relationship with her sister were really the best parts. It's a busy book. In addition to the various challenges that each character faces in living together, there are some pretty serious topics raised, including alcoholism, co-dependency, and classism.  Casey acts out the most, but Lou picks up a habit of stealing  from family and friends (a problem which is never fully addressed).

While covering very little new ground, Zarr's story is well-written and a delight to read.

I Miss You, I Hate This, by Sara Saedi

During the Covid Pandemic, I wondered what YA literature set during the period would look like.  This novel, while taking great artistic license, does a great job of exploring some of the key themes, but is ultimately knee-capped by that license.  In order to create a story that fits within a single academic year and has greater relevance to young people, Saedi creates a whole new pandemic called "Adema," with slightly different symptoms.  Adema is more virulent for the young than the old (thus forcing young people to quarantine and the elderly to be largely immune).  That switch allows our teen protagonists to truly be the center of the universe and to explore issues of isolation that during Covid were felt more intensely by older people.  

Parisa and Gabriela are two high school seniors who are best friends despite their differences.  Parisa is from a wealthy Iranian-American family and on her way to becoming valedictorian.  Despite this privilege, she suffers from panic attacks that the pandemic lockdown aggravates.  In contrast, Gabriela's two Moms struggle to make ends meet and when the pandemic destroys their catering business, Gabriela has to put her life on the line and get a job to help the family pay the rent.

Throughout the lockdown period (which for this disease runs during 2022-2023 school year), Parisa and Gabriela stay in touch through texting and work through a variety of issues including Parisa's crush on her sister's boyfriend and Gabriela's search to reunite with her estranged family.  When a sudden terrible mistake destroys their deep friendship, it takes an even deeper tragedy to bring them back together.

It's a fine story that really does take on a lot of familiar pandemic-era issues including the psychological trauma of isolation, the economic impact of the stay-at-home orders and the way "essential workers" were treated, and the uncertainty of the future.  It's therefore really distracting that in this parallel world, Covid never happened and instead this Adema ravages the country in a similar-but-different way.  I understand why Saedi went with a different disease but it's off-putting to have very real and salient recent events being fictionalized.

Sweet and Sour, by Debbi Michiko Florence

Up until two years ago, Mai and her family has spent every summer with Zach and his family.  That was the year that Zach's family moved to Japan.  It was also the summer that Zach betrayed Mai, hurting her deeply and causing her to swear lifelong enmity for her former best friend.  Now, Zach is back and Mai has to spend another summer with him.  She's sworn to get revenge for his unforgivable cruelty.  However, she finds him changed and her anger and desire for vengeance wavers.  Can she stay the course or will she choose the much harder path of forgiveness?

A sweet middle grade book about friendship and forgiveness, with all of the messy subjects of acknowledging hurt and learning how to let go of negative feelings.  In a vast universe of books about friendships and how to cultivate them, this story has some valuable life lessons to offer and the work that is involved in being a good friend.  I found Mai's stubborn attachment to vengeance a bit arrogant and it made it hard to like her, but she's certainly a good educational example.  The lessons come on a bit too heavy and elements of the story will age poorly, but the kids in the story are relatable and there's a sweet romance and an overall innocence to a story that is hard to find nowadays.

Each Night Was Illuminated, by Jodi Lynn Anderson

When Cassie and Elias were young children, they witnessed a horrific train accident together. Cassie lost her faith in God that day, unable to conceive how such horrible suffering could have occurred.  And shortly after that, Elias moved away.  In the ensuing years, they corresponded and stayed in touch.  Elias returns when they are now in High School, with an obsession with finding ghosts and he enlists Cassie to help him contact the victims of the train accident.

When he is not searching for ghosts, he plots elaborate pranks against Father James -- a mean-spirited blowhard priest who dominates their parish.  Cassie, who has never liked Father James, finds it amusing but it is very dangerous.  And when Elias gets caught, Father James turns the community against him and he and his family are forced to move away again.  Lonely without her friend, Cassie is determined to continue her search for the ghosts.  Her search comes to an end with a cataclysmic flood.  

An ambitious novel that is loosely based on the life of Saint Eia of the Celts which explores Cassie's search for God and contains a heavy ecological theme.  As a straight story, the plot is a mess, taking significant shifts at several points and drifting between ideas.  That said, the writing is lovely and deep and there are profound moments scattered throughout the book.  It's artistic, but it's a strange read.

The Falling Girls, by Hayley Krischer

Shade and Jadis have always been there for each other.  United in their distaste for the popular kids and things like Homecoming and Prom, they have enjoyed being outsiders.  But Shade is changing.  She thinks she might like to belong to a group after all.  She misses the gymnastics she excelled at when she was young and regrets never having made it on the cheerleading team.  So, she decides to try out.

She is surprised to find that she is actually warmly received.  Even the "three Chloes" (queen Chloe Orbach, insecure Chloe Schmidt, and pleaser Chloe Clarke) who rule the cheer team accept her as a team member.  Jadis is shocked though and feels betrayed.  She warns Shade that she's being exploited but Shade doesn't care.  And to everyone's surprise, Shade and Chloe Orbach grow surprisingly close, upsetting the prevailing social hierarchy.

Then, at the Homecoming dance, while the girls are experimenting with Ecstasy, Chloe Orbach collapses and dies.  Suspicion falls on Jadis (who supplied the drugs) and Shade (who connected them).  But would Jadis really try to kill her perceived competition?  All signs seem to indicate so, but Shade isn't sure she believes it  Jadis meanwhile tries to warn Shade that the remaining Chloes are out to frame them.

A taut psychological thriller about adolescent insecurity and the depths that girls will go to in order to preserve their friendships and their place in the social hierarchy.  Less exploitative than other novels in the genre, I was taken by the complex relationships between the girls.  I also liked the way the adults were portrayed, with greater-than-usual multi-dimensionality.

Big Rig, by Louise Hawes

Hazel (or as she likes to call herself, “Hazmat”) and her father are creatures of the road, making a living as long haul truckers.  While only eleven, Hazmat already knows how to keep travel logs and manage the business.  She knows all about loading and unloading cargo.  She even understands the theory of how to operate a truck (although she’ll have to be 18 before she can apply for her CDL).  She loves everything about the job and the lifestyle.

But things are changing and she worries that automation will end the use of human operators and there may not be jobs for her in the future.  That may be far-fetched worry, but she also knows that her Dad wants to find them a stable home now that she’s about to become a teenager.  The trouble is that she doesn’t want to ever settle down to a house in the burbs with a frilly bed in a pink bedroom.  She’s rather live free on the road.

A bit thin on an overall plot, the book consists mostly of vignettes (some of them quite outlandish) that fill the pages but don’t really advance the story.  I liked the characters, but when we’re adopting cats who survive plane crashes and rescuing a group of special needs children from flood waters, I have to start questioning the realism of the story.  It's a fast entertaining read that taught me a bit about the trucking lifestyle and the basics of the business, but didn’t have a compelling dramatic arc to carry it through. 

The Grace of Wild Things, by Heather Fawcett

Grace's wild imagination and her conviction that she is skilled at magic hasn't exactly endeared the young orphan to any adoption prospects.  So she decides to run away from the orphanage and present herself to the local witch.  At worst, the witch might try to roast her in her oven (which she in fact does), but it would be better than having her wild imagination suppressed.  

Grace manages to convince the witch to give her a trial -- to cast the 100 (and a half) spells that are in the witch's grimoire.  If Grace can do this before next spring, the witch will take her on as her apprentice.  If not, then the witch will take away any talent Grace has for magic.  It's a challenge that seems insurmountable, but Grace is as determined as she is melodramatic and with the help of a few friends, she works through the task.

Some elements of the story will feel quite familiar.  Inspired by the classic Anne of Green Gables, many of Grace's adventures (from smashing the school bully with her slate to accidentally intoxicating her best friend) are taken from Anne Shirley's mishaps.  The setting on Prince Edward Island is also the same.  But Grace, while prone to Anne's loquaciousness and inspired imagination, is an aspiring witch and this story is magic fantasy with faeries, ghosts, and spirits.  That Fawcett manages to also work in the themes of imagination and found homes is a marker of the cleverness of this novel and a testament to the universality of the inspiration.

The Talent Thief, by Mike Thayer

After her grandmother passes away, Tiffany knows she has been cursed.  How else could you explain the string of embarrassing incidents that plague her middle school existence?  Or what about the fact that her Dad is about to lose the planetarium that he has devoted so much effort to keeping afloat?  It will take a miracle to flip things around.

When two meteors collide one night in the skies above her, Tiffany feels like something significant has changed in her life.  Inexplicably, she finds herself gifted with talents that she never imagined possessing.  She gains the ability to sing like queen bee Candace, the talent to sink three-point shots like smoldering Brady, and even the ability to do card tricks like her grandmother's old friend in the nursing home.  But the magic comes with two caveats:  it is temporary and it requires that Tiffany steal it away (the person who had the talent becomes normal while Tiffany possesses it).  

With such magic, Tiffany could really fix things and make everything right.  But the ethics of the power vex her.  Very quickly she realizes how much harm she can cause to others.  And while there are instances when hurting others might feel justified (stealing Candace's voice before a performance so she flubs it), it is never nice.  And moreover, what does it say that you can only get ahead by stealing from others?  In the end, Tiffany comes to realize that being successful comes as much from self-confidence and the support of others as it comes from any talent.

A fine fantasy novel that approaches the morality of playing fair.  I was put off by the character of Tiffany who never really felt authentic to me and by the setting (planetarium? really?).  I also found the characters rather thin.  But I appreciated the nice age-appropriate development of a theme that allowed Tiffany to explore the pitfalls of her incredible power.

Rare Birds, by Jeff Miller

Graham's mother is waiting for a heart transplant.  Over the past years, they've traveled from one hospital to another and finally ended up back home in Florida.  While Mom's in the hospital, Graham stays with his uncle and his cousin Nick.  While it's great to reconnect and learn a bit about what Mom was like when she was younger, the situation is not ideal.  Nick has his own issues with his mother and takes out his frustrations bullying Graham, but Graham's been through so much that he doesn't really care anymore.

While waiting at the hospital, Graham meets Lou who coincidentally is also waiting with her family for a donor heart to come.  With their shared situation, Lou and Graham bond easily and they discover a shared love for birding.  Going through Graham's mother's old things back home, they find Mom's birding journal and learn that she had been on a quest for a rare bird called a Snail Kite that she never found.  Determined to complete his Mom's quest in her honor as she waits for a donor, he and Lou set out on an adventure to find the Kite.

A lively middle grade adventure story that manages to cover two separate topics (organ transplants and ornithology) with a good mix of information and entertainment.  While the two main subjects are unrelated, I thought the birding helped to lighten the otherwise heavy nature of the medical stuff (especially given the story's rather heavy ending).  I was a bit annoyed at how passive Graham was and it soured me a bit on his character.  And I would have preferred if Nick had gotten some sort of comeuppance for his meanness.  However, the birding stuff was great and may encourage a few young people to pick up a pair of binoculars.

Whispering Alaska, by Brendan Jones

In the aftermath of their mother's death from COVID, Nicky and her twin sister Josie have ceased communicating with each other.  To help heal the rift and the family, their father decides to move them from Pennsylvania to join his family in southern Alaska.  But the peace that the family was trying to find is shattered by a conflict that has split the community: whether to clear cut the forest to bring in revenue.  Times are tough from the pandemic.  Tourists have stopped coming and bringing their spending money and so the search is on for alternative sources of revenue.  Without the infusion of cash that the lumber could bring in, people won't be able to make a living and the community will break up.  But at the same time, these are thousand year-old spruce trees that folks are talking about cutting up.  The damage will be long lasting.  While the girls are new to Alaska, they have been enchanted by the Tongass forest.  United by a calling to save the trees, the twins find a point of connect and a way to heal their grief.

A sweet and actually pretty fresh story that mostly defies its genre.  We have the dead mother, but don't dwell on her.  There's the pandemic, but that's mostly background.  There's a mild supernatural element, but it is largely ignored.  And the eco theme, while central to the story, is toned down.  The ultimate solution is a compromise (i.e., responsible stewardship of resources) and while overly optimistic, does portray the types of win-win solutions that generally have underlaid real life conservation success stories.  I might in fact criticize the story for not really pursuing any of these themes in any major way, but that decision leaves the book more digestible and less didactic.  What results is sufficiently educational with a light touch and has little bits of stuff (emotions, interpersonal relationships, magic, and adventure) to excite the reader.

The Roof Over Our Heads, by Nicole Kronzer

Finn's family are all about the theatre.  They even live in a Golden Age mansion owned by the region's major theatre Beauregard.  But appearances can be deceiving on the stage:  the mansion is falling apart and, while Finn's mothers and siblings are all successes, Finn is always flubbing his lines.  The truth is that Finn is really much more successful in the kitchen than on stage.

Family is family and the one thing that has kept Finn's family together is this old mansion.  So, when the new artistic director for Beauregard announces that they can no longer afford to maintain the property and need to sell it, the family comes together with a plan to save it.  It is a family dream to stage a historical murder mystery about the original inhabitants of the mansion -- the Jorgensens -- in the house itself.  But with the dire need for funds, the plan is now extended to host a special dinner for VIPs at $1000 a plate as part of an exclusive televised performance.  That's all well and good until things start going wrong.

Mix into all of this a complex web of subplots worthy of Downton Abbey and you get the whirlwind of this novel.  There's romance and intrigue, coming to terms with the past, and a main protagonist who sorts his entire life out in 340 action-packed pages.  With a huge cast of characters it can be hard to keep up with everything that is going on, but the story is forgiving and coaches you so you don't get completely lost.  There are many things to like about this book.  I particularly enjoyed the mash-up of manor home posing with modern sensibilities as the cast (largely made up of high school drama kids) are forced to live in character as upstairs and downstairs inhabitants of the play.  Great fun!

Then Everything Happens at Once, by M-E Girard

Baylee has never been in a relationship.  And given her size, she figures she'd be lucky if anyone ever noticed her.  She remains oblivious to the friendliness of her neighbor Freddie, on whom she actually has a crush.  When she starts texting with Alex, a stranger she's met online however, she realizes that things could change.  But it's all very awkward as Baylee isn't used to navigating romantic relationships.  Suddenly, she goes from famine to feast when Freddie reveals his interest.  Instinctually, Baylee returns the affection, putting her in the awkward place of juggling two relationships where once there were none.

And things are about to get a lot more complicated because this is March 2020 and news stories about a virus sweeping the world are just starting to pick up.  With Baylee's complicated love life, she doesn't have much time to pay attention to any of that (although having school get cancelled helps give her time to focus on sorting things out).  Even as lockdown is declared, Baylee can't really conceptualize the weight of the matter, despite repeated entreaties from her Mom and the authorities.

During the early days of the Pandemic, I had wondered what sort of YA stories would come from it.  This sort of dazed-and-confused romance makes a certain amount of sense.   Baylee's an interesting protagonist.  Aside from cheating on Alex, she's actually very candid.  While she's articulate, her mind is truly confused by all of the novel things that are occurring to her:  first love, first kiss, and first sexual experience.  Putting it all in the context of lockdown raises the stakes a bit and Baylee proves largely (and realistically) incapable of adapting to the restrictions.  As an adult, it's hard for me to be sympathetic to her selfishness and to the degree she puts her family (and her vulnerable little sister in particular) at risk by her quarantine violations.  However, it felt authentic and even if it made me dislike her, I recognized that as a sign of my degree of investment in the story.

That's Debatable, by Jen Doll

Millie is an excellent debater and, on the Lincoln-Douglas debate circuit, she's practically unbeatable.  Despite having to wrestle with constant sexual harassment from other students, their coaches, and even the judges, she repeatedly wins her debates,  She has won the Alabama state championships for three years in a row.  Now in her senior year, she stands to set a record by winning all four years.  This coincidentally also carries with it a scholarship that could help pay for college, which she will otherwise have a hard time affording.

Tag doesn't have to worry about paying for college.  His family is wealthy enough that scholarships are not a major consideration.  But doing well in debate is the sort of extracurricular asterixis he needs to impress admissions committees.  It's certainly what is driving the other students on his school team to do well.  The problem is that he doesn't care.  He isn't even sure he wants to go to college.  And the debates have become just as meaningless to him.  In debates you have to argue the side that you are given, but Tag is done with that.  He wants to argue the position that he believes in, the position that is right.  Even if it means his team loses.

When a crisis and some quick thinking throws Millie and Tag together into an unusual situation, two opposites find that they share a love for the same things.  And while debate will always be important to them, they find that maybe the feelings they have for each other are just as important.

A lovely romance with a lot to say about taking a stand for what you believe in and a really great introduction to the arcane world of Lincoln-Douglas Debates -- a subject that I knew absolutely nothing about before I read this book.  I enjoyed that education, I was caught up in the (occasionally over-the-top) drama, and I loved the message.

This is How I Roll, by Debbi Michiko Florence

Sana loves cooking and dreams of becoming a famous sushi chef like her father.  She'd love to spend the summer getting pointers from Dad and cooking with him, but he refuses to teach her and just finds excuses to go in to work instead.  Sana suspects that he doesn't believe that women should make sushi.

One day she meets Koji, a boy who is helping landscape her Dad's restaurant.  He seems nice but her best friend warns her that he has a reputation.  Rather than dissuading her, the news simply makes her curious (and then cautious about telling her friend anything more about him).  She and Koji become friends and he takes her to meet his Mom who turns out to be an amazing cook.  She offers to teach Sana what she knows about Japanese cuisine.  Soon, Sana is sneaking over to Koji's house in order to take lessons from Koji's Mom (and to see Koji as well!) and he even helps her put together YouTube tutorials about kawaii sushi. All of this Sana has to keep secret from her parents, even though she knows that all this sneaking around will lead to nothing but trouble!

A predictable and formulaic middle reader with a determined heroine and an unusual hobby.  While Sana makes a number of ostensibly dangerous choices, the entire environment of this book feels very safe secure.  Yes, Sana is hanging out with strangers without her parents' knowledge, but this is terribly tame stuff by children's book standards.  Predictably, she gets caught and (similarly predictably) she gets off pretty lightly.  Even the romance is safe and chaste (some hand holding and one furtive kiss).  The ending is saccharine and very tidy.  Nothing remarkable, but pleasant enough to read and appropriate for tweens.

Lolo's Light, by Liz Garton Scanlon

At the age of twelve, Millie gets her first experience of babysitting for their neighbor's four month-old baby, Lolo.  The evening goes fine and Millie is so happy that she's managed so well as a child carer.  But the next morning, there is terrible news:  sometime in the night after Millie went home, baby Lolo died.  Attributed to SIDS, Lolo's death is not Millie's fault, but that's not how Millie sees it.  

Suddenly, nothing feels safe or secure.  Withdrawn into grief, Lolo cuts herself off from her friends and it struck with panic attacks at school.  She becomes convinced that the spirit of Lolo still lives and imagines she can see the light of that spirit shining from her neighbor's windows when she walks by.

A poorly timed science project in which the class incubates and hatches chickens stirs up the worst of her fears and anxieties.  Millie becomes obsessed with taking care of the eggs and their incubation and grows inconsolable when some of the eggs fail.  Her parents, the science teachers, and a counselor all attempt to help, offering different perspectives on life/death and reconciling to it.

Stories about grief don't generally allow much room for maneuver in the plot. It's pretty much a given that you'll work through the stages of grief and come out at the end of the story in a state of acceptance, prepared to move forward.  It's an inward journey and can get really dull, unless it is particularly well-written.  In this case, the challenges are compounded by the author's decision to tell the story in third person voice.  Millie is sad.  Millie is angry.  Millie won't tell people how she's feeling.  It's an incredibly passive way to experience her emotional state and one that is very hard with which to connect. I couldn't get invested in her story.

Remember Me Gone, by Stacy Stokes

Tumble Tree is such a remote small town that there is no cell service.  All it has going for it is the mine where half of the town is employed and Memory House.  Memory House is the outfit that Lucy's father runs:  a place where people go to forget their troubles.  Dad is a unique skill:  he's able to erase people's bad memories, leaving them free to go on with their lives unburdened by what they want to forget.

But something is not quite right.  Lucy keeps having flashes of memories that don't make sense and periods of time for which she can't account.  People are giving her vague answers and tell her things that can't be true.  Someone's hiding something and going to great pain to do so, and it's almost as if someone like her father has been wiping her memories.  However, Lucy knows that her Dad would never practice on an unwilling person.  It all seems to center around the mines and the mayor.  Lucy and the mayor's nephew, Marco feel that they are tantalizingly close to uncovering the mystery, but plagued by the sense that they may have been in this same place before.

A wonderful edge-of-the-seat thriller that mixes just the right amount of suspense and paranoia to keep you hooked.  Lucy and Marco have great chemistry (even though the novel never slows down enough to give them space for romance) and a series of creepy antagonists keep readers on their toes.  Things get a bit strained towards the end as Stokes tries to wrap everything up and some of the explanations didn't make much sense, but the adventure is so much fun along the way that you want to just let it go so you can enjoy the ride.  Great read!

I Was Born for This, by Alice Oseman

Angel lives for The Ark, a boy band she's been following since they were posting amateur videos on YouTube.  She's a obsessive fan for a band that has one of the hardest core fandoms in the world.  Hardly an hour goes by without her monitoring Twitter for the latest information about The Ark.  She loves them sooooooooooo much!

She's finally saved up enough money to travel to London to see them perform and spend a week hanging out with Juliet, another fangirl.  She's sure that it will be amazing and she's going to have a great time because every time she's hanging out with The Ark, she feels all the love the band gives out.

After five years, life as a member of the band in The Ark is wearing Jimmy down.  Secretly suffering with anxiety and panic attacks (which his PR people keep under wraps), he struggles to get through  days of pointless interviews and photo-ops.  He longs for the days when he could just go out on the street and not get accosted by some vapid fangirl who allegedly "loves" him.  How can they when they know nothing about him?  With the record company pressuring them to sign a more restrictive contract, he feels more and more pressure to just step away.  And as they return to London to finish up their latest tour, the band is falling apart.

In the week that follows, nothing turns out quite like either Angel or Jimmy planned.  Being in a band or being a fan of the band isn't what they imagined.  And as their plans come apart, both of them are forced to confront the fact that they aren't loving the one person they need to love -- themselves.  

With a ethnically and gender-diverse cast that is Oseman's signature, she explores fame and the people who put people there, the fans.  Despite such an unoriginal topic, Oseman has a surprisingly large amount of original things to say about it.  And a cast of characters who are not only diverse but original, vivid, and (at times) outrageously funny makes this a great read.

Justine, by Forsyth Harmon

An unusual illustrated novel tells a familiar story, presented in an entirely original way, about a teenager growing up on Long Island in the late 1990s.  Aimless and lonely, Ali picks up a job at the local convenience store where she meets Justine and falls into a deep obsession.  Ali's been experimenting with boys and finding nothing there for her and so falling head over heels for tall enigmatic Justine makes a certain sense.  

Justine is not a terribly good role model.  She teaches Ali how to memorize produce codes and bag groceries, but also how to purge to stay thin and how to shoplift from stores.  Apathetic and bored with her own life, Ali doggedly follows Justine's example in every way.  It ends badly and on a tragic note.

This is a very short story (135 pages, nearly half of which are illustrations) and a quick read.  It's not really a story per se, but more a series of journal entries, with ink line drawings of common everyday objects (a Coke can, a bag of potato chips, a gas station sign. etc.).  The banality of the drawings and the story itself is part of its charm.  Ali's life isn't particularly big or important to the world, but it is a complex swirl of emotions and feelings for Ali herself, most of which she is unable to process or contextualize.  It's a tragedy, but not one that Ali really cares much about.

Girls at the Edge of the World, by Laura Brooke Robson

In the kingdom of Kostrova, The Captain's Log has foretold a series of ten storms that will bring on a great global flood in its conclusion.  It's not supposed to come for many more years, but as the storms start occurring as they have been described, people start to panic.  There are no preparations and not nearly enough boats for everyone.  It readily becomes apparent that people will do anything to find a place on one of them.  Natasha, the leader of the elite Royal Flyers (a group of young women who perform acrobatic ballet on silk ribbons, has her eyes on the attentions of King Nikolai who is searching for a wife.  

For the elite Royal Flyers themselves, their chances are slightly better than average. So, when a vacancy appears, many apply.  For most of the applicants, getting a foot in the door would improve their chances of survival.  For Ella, she knows she is doomed regardless and she doesn't care.  She's joining the Royal Flyers for an entirely different reason:  to exact revenge by killing King Nikolai.

As the storms progress, and the prophecy unfolds as it was foretold, social unrest breaks out and palace intrigues start to emerge.  There is tug of war between Nikolai and the faith's leader, mass poisonings, and acts of arson.  However, in the end, everyone's plans get thrown off and things take their own course.

I loved the immersive world building.  While I found it a little distracting, I even enjoyed the faint Russian and Finnish references in the novel.  However, the ending is a rushed mess in which so much of what is built up in the story gets tossed aside.  It keeps us on our toes but so little of what happens in the end is actually built during the story.  The storms, the revenge, the struggle over the crown, competition for the king's hand, and even the planned murder weapon become irrelevant for how the story wraps up.  And a romance that is barely hinted at during the bulk of the story becomes determinant in the end.

Afterlove, by Tanya Byrne

Ash and Poppy meet on a school trip and embark on a whirlwind romance that quickly turns serious. For Ash, this comes as a surprise because she's never had much luck in her previous relationships.  The two girls are from drastically different socioeconomic situations.  In spite of that, her doubts are swept away as she becomes convinced that Poppy is the one whom (in the words of Death Cab for Cutie) she'll "follow into the dark." Poppy is a keeper and Ash is starting to consider how to introduce Poppy to her conservative family.

But then Ash is suddenly struck down in a hit-and-run and dies on New Year's Eve.  As the last teenager to die in the year, she is assigned the role of "reaper" to help guide the recently deceased to the beach and to Charon's waiting boat to take them to the afterlife.  Life as a reaper, while ostensibly similar to Ash's life before, has its own set of rules.  Key amongst them is that, while people can see you, you don't look like you did before.  Only those who are about to die can see the real you.  She is also warned away from visiting friends, family, and (especially) Poppy.  But Ash can't resist the temptation and when she goes anyway she is hit with a rude shock when Poppy can actually see her!

An interesting paranormal romance with a split personality.  The first half plays out as a typical teen lesbian romance, with a lot of struggling over whether to come out to their families.  There's some lovely character building here between mother and daughter, and we get a real strong sense of the tension between Ash's intense feelings for Poppy and her loyalties to her family.  It's thus a big shock in the second half where the focus is entirely on Ash's superficial relationships with her fellow reapers and the doomed romance with Poppy.  The family is barely mentioned and her mother is forgotten.  Moreover, the second half is not even that interesting.  The potential drama of finding out that your girlfriend is about to die is not really developed.  Another potential flash point with a head reaper Deborah (and a really easy potential replacement for Mom) remains a cypher -- an utterly wasted character.  The story disappoints.

I did love the not-safe-for-Florida cover art though!

Wishing Upon the Same Stars, by Jacquetta Nammar Feldman

The move from Detroit to San Antonio is a big change for Yasmeen.  She's used to her predominantly Arab community and San Antonio is so different.  She just hopes that she'll fit in and that people will like her.  What she finds is a bit more complicated.  She is surprised to find that stories of Texan hospitality really are true.  Her neighbor Waverly warmly welcomes her.  The neighbors, while a bit taken aback by Yasmeen's family, are largely friendly.  But there are others who see her differences as something to hate, from the mean man at the restaurant who threatens her father to the bully at school who accuses Yasmeen of being a terrorist.  But the most complicated relationship of all is with Ayelet, a girl who is also from the Middle East, but who's Israeli.  In principle, the girls have a lot in common as immigrants, but the shadow of the conflict in their homeland hangs over them.  Can they forge a friendship against so much pressure to hate?

As is typical in a middle reader, there's plenty going on in this book:  Yasmeen has to learn how to dance, Yasmeen's sister goes to the National Spelling Bee, grandmother comes to live with them, and so on. With fairly simple age-appropriate explanations of the intifada, a faint hint of a romantic interest (but not even a kiss), and a story of largely well-behaved young people, this novel has little to object to.

The key message is about forging true friendships based on loyalty and kindness.  Through determination and a fair amount of bravery, Yasmeen stands up for what she wants:  to have the friends she wants to have, to be so the things she wants to do, and to be the person she wants to be.  And while everything comes together a bit too neatly and the book's ending stops just short of solving the Mideast Crisis, it's a charming story of young people trying to break free of their parents' prejudices.

Meant to Be, by Jo Knowles

In this companion to Where the Heart Is, the focus shifts to Rachel's little sister Ivy and jumps ahead a few months to the aftermath of the family's downsizing to an apartment in the city.  While most of the family is sad about losing their country home, Ivy is much happier in this new place.  She doesn't mind that it's smaller.  And she enjoys sharing a room with her sister.  There are more kids to play with and she feels less isolated.

But having children to play with presents new challenges.  When Ivy makes an unintentionally insensitive remark to her new best friend Alice, she's surprised at Alice's angry response.  And when she quickly apologizes, she's hurt when Alice doesn't immediately forgive her.  In fact, nowadays it seems that Ivy can't say anything without offending someone.  Maybe life really was better out in the country!  But with some guidance from her older sister, the superintendent of the apartment, and some other adults, Ivy learns some valuable lessons about being patient and loving with one's friends.

I didn't remember Ivy so well from the original book, but she is fleshed out as a resourceful and intelligent (and perhaps overly precocious?) nine year-old.  Her primary talent and love is cooking and she shines in her clever ability at coming up with substitutions when she lacks specified ingredients.  That talent extends to her ability to solve the problems in her interpersonal relationships as well, bootstrapping her way through her challenges.  The author claims to also be addressing Ivy's anxiousness, but I really didn't notice much of that.  She's a bit emotional, but not in a way that seemed particularly remarkable for her age.

Where You've Got to Be, by Caroline Gertler

At the start of sixth grade, Nolie's best friend Jessa decides that Nolie should start using her full name (Magnolia), which Nolie doesn't like.  Also, that Nolie needs to wear her skirts shorter and hang out only with the right kids.  Nolie doesn't like any of it, but when she tries to stand up for herself, she finds herself cast out of the old friendship circle.

And that isn't the only thing that is changing.  At home, her sister's just been cast in the lead role for The Nutcracker and now their parents are totally centered around her sister's needs.  Feeling ignored and self-pitying, Nolie starts "borrowing" objects that don't belong to her:  a necklace, a package of candy, and her grandma's antique compass.  When she gets caught, Nolie realizes that she's in too deep and, amidst all this change and challenge, that she's lost sight of who she is and who she wants to be.  Seeking guidance in her faith, she tries to atone and fix things.

A nice conduct-of-life middle reader with a large agenda of issues to address (including sibling rivalry, changing friendships, bullying, and even anti-Semitism).  It comes together a bit too abruptly at the end, but the right notes are struck. Ultimately, strong family ties, forgiveness, and making good choices are the path to a solution.  I would have liked to see more done with Nolie's interesting new BFF Serena, but there was a lot of material to cover in the story.

Lifeling, by Kirsty Applebaum

While only twelve years old, Lonny looks older on account of the magic he possesses.  When Lonny comes in contact with someone or something on the verge of death, he is faced with an irresistible urge to lay hands on them and save their life.  Unfortunately, every time he does so, he ages and loses a part of his life proportionate to the life he has saved.  Given the compulsive nature of his magic, being around others is dangerous and his family has tried to keep him hidden from the public.  To pacify Lonny, they have created a story of public hatred and fear of "lifelings" like Lonny that make it imperative for Lonny to lay low.  But Lonny longs to see the world and when he and his younger brother Midge sneak out to the city, they discover that lifelings are not feared, but honored. Lonny makes the fateful decision to reveal himself.

A quirky timeless story that reflects on the value of life within the bounds of a family of memorable characters.  I enjoyed its original juxtaposition of magic and mundane.  At times the story seems to be a medieval fairy tale and then someone pops up with a cell phone or a car to shake things up!  I loved the premise of Lonny's magic and the severe conundrums it presents.  And finally, the cast is wonderful.  However, I was less taken with the storytelling, which I found uneven and difficult to follow.

Why Would I Lie? by Adi Rule

Viveca is an obsessive overachiever, getting better than perfect grades in her classes.  She doesn't have a lot of friends (she simply doesn't have time for a social life).  Instead, she is driven to her (better than) perfect record to make up for some stupid mistakes in her past and the singular goal to get accepted to the one prestigious college that her mother attended.

At the start of her senior year, she's definitely on track to do so and to become the class valedictorian.  But then a new boy named Jamison comes to the school.  And he's amazing.  He's transferred from an elite French school, does virtually everything, excels at everything, and seems just about...well, perfect. 

Viveca is suspicious about his claims.  Too many things seem implausible, too many coincidences are convenient, and too many things don't line up.  Viveca knows all about liars.  Her father's ruined his life (and hers) through pathological lying.  She learned long ago that little he said could be trusted and she has had to deal with the consequences of his dishonesty as her father has lost jobs and friends along the way.  So, while it seems like every teacher and student in the school is willing to accept Jamison's stories, Viveca eyes him suspiciously.  Confronting and exposing Jamison, however, proves to be difficult and as she tries to do so, he goes on the offensive and attempts to discredit and destroy Viveca's reputation.  Without much social support, she quickly finds out how vulnerable she is to her peers and the fleeting loyalty of her teachers.

In the end, Viveca learns that no one can really destroy your life.  That is something only you can do.  However, it is a lesson she'll only learn once she's lost everything she thought mattered.

If you can read this lightly and without getting too invested, this is probably a pretty enjoyable book, but I found myself growing more and more infuriated at the set-up.  The level of bullying, Viveca's inability to defend herself, the connivance of the adults, and the nastiness of Viveca's peers was all pretty upsetting.  There is a good message about Viveca's need to gain some perspective, develop empathy, and work on her social skills, but the level of cruelty is a bit much for me.  The ending, where justice is (thankfully!) served is far too brief, not nearly satisfying enough, and surprisingly rushed for what we've endured in the reading.