 3 stars
Art, pain, and discussions of friendship bonds and finding your individual voice collide in this new graphic novel for young readers. Concept: ★★★ Plot/Pacing: ★★★ Characters: ★★★ A quick disclaimer and a content warning: This young graphic novel deals heavily with discussions of suicide. Please be warned before proceeding with this review or others on this book. Slip follows the summer journey of Jade, a young artist about to go off on a summer art program at the Art Farm. Right before Jade leaves for the camp, she receives the news that her best friend, Phoebe, has attempted suicide. Phoebe is immediately sent off for treatment and help, and Jade is still sent to art camp. Now separated from Phoebe and dealing with the complex feelings of being on intimate sidelines of such an event, Slip delves into the tangled ball of yarn of friendships, suicide, internal healing, and growth. And, to make matters even more interesting, Jade's art pieces start to come to life at the camp—forcing Jade to confront a lot of her internal feelings around Phoebe, life, and what comes next. I thought this graphic novel had a wonderful concept. The idea of a suicide impacting the social network around the affected individual—like a stone dropped into a pond, rippling outward—was a great topic, and having it conveyed to a younger audience even more so as this is something that affects groups of all ages, not just adults. However, I must say that I felt a lot of mixed feelings while experiencing this story. Jade's self-absorption over the impacts of Phoebe's decision on Jade's own life read as selfish to me as opposed to caring, and while this was clearly NOT the author's intention, it then started to feel to me that the story was sidelining the real truth of Phoebe's story and subsequent trauma and somehow prioritizing the selfish angles of Jade as the "hurt best friend." It was always going to be a tightrope to balance this topic, and even if it was done flawlessly it might have continued to feel uncomfortable, but still... it struck the wrong chords with me. In addition to the handling of the sensitive topics at hand, I also thought it was an odd artistic choice to have a very visual arts-themed graphic novel told entirely in grayscale colors, with an occasional pop of pink accents. This would have had such a different tone if done in full color, and might have more accurately represented the vibrant arts camp setting. I am assuming the artist's intention was to have it gray to represent the very heavy topics at hand, but to me personally it felt off. Thank you to Algonquin Books for Young Readers for my copy in exchange for an honest review.
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 4 stars
A fantasy for the budding environmental scientists out there. Lots of fun! Concepts: ★★★★★ Plot/Pacing: ★★★★ Characters: ★★★ I wondered when we'd start to see climate-focused middle grade reads saturate the shelves. The Tiltersmith joins the wave of budding stories both fantastical and contemporary centered on our environment—and it managed to do that while ALSO being fun. A delicate balance to walk. It's supposed to be spring in New York, but as March 21 rolls around the streets are still covered in ice and snow. Winter's not letting up. For four kids in the city, this stinks on multiple levels. As I curled up with this story, it was early April, supposedly spring on the calendar—the winter vibes out my window begged to differ. The snow on my ground felt like a personal grounding to this tale. I, like our protagonist's teacher Mr. Ross, immediately jumped to climate change as an answer for my snow woes. But for Edward, Brigit, Feenix, and Danton, four classmates with a lot of smarts, they think something else is afoot and they're determined to prove it in their own unique ways. (Edward, the scientist covered in experiments, was a personal favorite of mine to read.) And when someone "off" with the name Superintendent Tiltersmith shows up, the foursome are in for a wild, wild ride involving magic, science, and the planet. Y'all, I thought this story was so precious. It's not every day that you read a tale for young readers with a distinctly environmental twist—unless there's a ton and I'm just living under a rock, which is possible—and The Tiltersmith incorporated those elements in such a blatant and yet endearing way. As an adult, I found some portions to be a bit on the nose, but I had to keep reminding myself that this was meant for younger audiences who might need the more heavy-handed approach. A fun and engaging read to share with the young scientists and explorers in your life! Thank you to Algonquin Books for Young Readers for my copy in exchange for an honest review.  4.5 stars
A mirror looking back at us with a kinder, hopeful light. This feels like the most relevant of fairy tales and the kind of story I'd love to hear told around the coffee table on a lazy afternoon. Concept: ★★★★★ Pacing: ★★★ Sense of storytelling: ★★★★★ What does it mean to be a neighbor? This story is about an Ogress. (But maybe she's not who you think she is.) This story is about a Dragon. (And maybe he's exactly who you think he is.) This story is also about a town fallen on hard times, where trust and kindness are steadily withering away with each hotter season, and the town's livelihood is dying a slow death as a result. This story is also about a group of orphans, who are able to look at the world with the clear-eyed gaze that only the most honest of children can use. The Ogress and the Orphans is a parable for our times—as lofty as that sounds. Timely, yet timeless. About us and yet not about us. For us adults reading this, this story is going to be a lancing of the boil (whether you're ready for it or feel that way is up to you, but it definitely was such for me). We've experienced so much ugly in these past few years, and our souls are tired. We wonder if there is any hope for the younger generations in this reality where facts are apparently subjective and the concept of kindness toward those around you seems like an alien concept. What hope can we have when those in power try harder and harder to focus a polarity in the culture in order to inflate their egos and bank vaults? How can we record these thoughts and spit them back as something useful and fostering of growth? Kelly Barnhill's Ogress and the Orphans is one such answer. Barnhill wrote this novel during the last few years and that shows—if you're an American, you can see the players behind their fairy tales masks. Her thesis question of "What is a neighbor?" is clearly playing with concepts that have been bullied and broken and abused in the political and social arena for years now. But even for the rest of us, and especially for the children, this fable exists to grow love and foster kindness. I normally read harsher things, darker things, so maybe my review will be an odd duck for those who follow me for those other books. However, despite this novel's length—it was a bit long, and for an adult it will feel like something shorter that was drawn out for younger minds--I think it's worth a try. Especially if you're in need of something light amidst all of this darkness. Thank you to the publisher for my copy in exchange for an honest review.  4 stars
Ticking clocks, German folklore, and classic storytelling with a self-aware edge...this was a delight. Concepts: ★★★★ Plot/Pacing: ★★★ Characters: ★★★★ Y'all, I have been enjoying the heck out of Algonquin's middle grade line of novels these past few years. There is something about the niche of fantasy middle grade coming out of this publishing hosue that I just really, really enjoy. They tend to have that extra something, that extra oomph of world building mixed with lyrical folktale-esque writing structure, and they tend to have writer's humor mixed in with the narrative. I love it every time. The Counterclockwise Heart was no exception. In this tale we have Alphonsus, a prince with a ticking clock where is heart is supposed to be. Raised by his adoptive mother, the empress of the land, he's told to hide his clock heart from the world and to ignore the prophecy that was attached to his newborn body when the empress found him one night in a gear-filled bassinet. The counterclockwise heart... Of course, one day Alphonsus's heart stops ticking clockwise like normal. It starts winding backwards, counting down. But to what, and why? In another thread of the story we have Esme, a young girl from the magical community of Hierophants. She enters Alphonsus's kingdom in search of Nachtfrau, a powerful sorceress. Esme has her own reasons for searching for Nachtfrau, and she has some fate-tied words of her own. As Alphonsus and Esme twine closer and closer, their fates begin to unravel as well. The clock is ticking... literally. This was such a fun ride! With the classic spins of a good middle grade adventure folktale, The Counterclockwise Heart surprised me with its self-aware narration, clever twists, and ultimate sense of grounded Germanic-based folktale. It was just a good blend. I do think that this novel will appeal to certain types of fantasy readers over others--in particular, there were some darker themes and meandering elements to the storytelling that I think are dependent on personal taste. It worked for me, but I'm an adult fantasy reader who likes those things! Recommended for fans of The Oddmire, Laini Taylor's writing style if she wrote a classic fairytale, and Seanan McGuire's obscure short stories. Thank you to Algonquin for Young Readers for my copy in exchange for an honest review.  3.5 stars
A much-needed breath of fresh air within the YA fantasy "there's a magic world among us!" trope, with a lot to say and a lot of heart to give. Concepts: ★★★★ Characters: ★★★★★ Plot: ★★★ "Moms raised a diamond..." Rue comes from the East Row, where the families look out for each other and happiness, love, and loyalty bloom amid the concrete. She and her half-sister, Tasha, live with their mom and are doing pretty well. Until, that is, their mom is shot on their doorstep and life as Rue knows it ends. Suddenly, Rue's absent dad arrives on the scene with a puff of magic (literally) and whisks Rue away to the magical island of Ghazan. Where apparently a land of magical, gray-tinged white people reside, and Rue and her father are the only brown-skinned people in the whole joint. Yes, it's just as weird as you're thinking...And Rue's having none of it. Rue's pissed. Dragged away from her sister, reeling from her mom's murder, NOT on board with her no-good father's weird return, and now struggling with a magic she didn't want and a people she doesn't understand.... it's a lot. And oh, there's also some serious sh** going on and more people are turning up in trouble. ...And diamonds never crack. Told through a past/present split timeline and through Rue's intensely personal point of view, Wings of Ebony was a unique voice in the realm of today's young adult fantasy and really highlighted a lot of the internal/external issues surrounding Black teens today. And it was a damn fun time too, that also needs to be in there. There's a lot of "real world" involved right in with the fantastical, so do go into this novel with the expectation that it's not a high fantasy/magical school concept—Rue is back and forth within the magical and non-magical scene throughout the entirety of this book and so are the rest of the characters. In truth, I thought that Wings of Ebony stood apart from many other fantasies in its tropes BECAUSE of the intermeshed realities of Rue's ties between the magical community and her home of the East Row. There was no clean break, no escapism, no forgetting your roots to embrace the new like we've seen done before in so many other (let's be honest, traditionally white) books. I know my voice in the discussion as a white adult woman might not add much to the discussions of this book (and frankly, that's fine - this was not a book meant for me or traditionally white audiences, I do recommend checking out the other wonderful reviews coming from more relevant voices) but I do think it was truly awesome to read a book that was clearly for young Black women and teens that didn't cater to white audiences in terms of its dialogue, plot points, or references. There was a lot outside of my personal experience in Wings of Ebony, and to be honest I loved that, Rue taught me things through the page just by her experiences and how she framed her thoughts to the other non-Black characters in this book—but that teaching wasn't her job, or the novel's job, to do that so I'm taking those points as a good personal side benefit, not anything that I came to this novel with as an expectation. The only caveats to Wings of Ebony in terms of its technical structure, for me, was its pacing. At times, I really did struggle with the flow of the past-to-present timelines and in general found it easy to pick up and put down this book because the flow from action point to action point felt uneven in places. But those are quibbles, this was still an incredibly solid and extremely unique debut.  3.5 stars
A notoriously haunted L.A. hotel. A group of teenage ghost hunters. A dead girl and her secrets. And something lurking in the dark... Location/Concept: ★★★ Sense of pacing: ★★★★ Personal enjoyment: ★★ Chrissy, Chase, Kiki, and Emma are quickly becoming famous for their YouTube channel, Ghost Gang. In a setup that feels pretty similar to Buzzfeed Unsolved and other real-life online channels, this group of teens goes to haunted locations and films their explorations and reactions to creepy locations. And Chrissy is their ace in the hole: she actually CAN see spirits. The Ghost Gang needs their next big hit. Chase, the group's organizer, decides to set their sights on the big one: the most haunted hotel in Los Angeles, California. In this hotel from hell, a young girl died brutally within its walls and her erratic behavior before her untimely death was caught online for the world to watch. Something happened to this girl, and someone—or something—killed her. No one has found out the truth. Chrissy and the rest of the group aren't exactly wild about visiting this location, but they let their better senses get the best of them and agree to go. (What's a horror setup without a few dumb decisions?) They have no idea what they're in for... So first off, a small disclaimer: I think this book is quite good for the right audience, and in that audience I could see Horror Hotel being a new favorite YA thriller/horror. It has all of the right hooks, shocks, and drama. Unfortunately, I was not the right audience for this story because I'm a frequent horror movie and true crime documentary buff and knew the source material inside and out before starting this story. If you've watched the Netflix documentary Crime Scene: The Vanishing at the Cecil Hotel and heard the very true story of the tragic death of Elisa Lam at that real L.A. hotel, then this fictionalized account with different names and slightly different tweaks might not work for you. The authors of Horror Hotel pay tribute to Elisa Lam in their dedication, which makes sense as this story was inspired by hers, but to me this novel was almost an exact replica of that particular Netflix documentary. Now I'm not getting into whether replicating stories is good or bad, retellings are a very popular thing and I've enjoyed a few of them, but regardless of my opinion on that element I found Horror Hotel to be pretty low stakes and low interest for me, personally, because I knew where it was going all of the time. Without the feeling of "where is this story going," I quickly found my interest waning. Again, this issue only happened because I was so familiar with that Netflix documentary. For those who haven't seen it and are just casually aware of the Elisa Lam story and the Hotel Cecil, this might be a very different reading experience. Recommended for new fans to the genre and for those who have not watched the referenced Netflix movie. Thank you to the publisher for my copy in exchange for an honest review.  4 stars
Generational secrets, the darkness within, and small town murders collide in this atmospheric and unputdownable debut. Concept: ★★★ Pacing: ★★★★ Sense of unease: ★★★★★ Enjoyment: ★★★★ Watch out for the dark. Wow, this was such an engaging young adult mystery. As an adult reader who can't seem to stay away from the young adult genre, sometimes there are stories that don't translate out of their age-appropriate market and I feel like I'm the one old person at the young people's party. The Dead and the Dark was not one of those books—I think this one will have more of an all-ages appeal. In Snakebite, a small town with generations of secrets and shame, things don't change. Visitors never stay, residents don't leave, and those that are different are not welcomed. Years ago, Logan's two dads left Snakebite under upsetting circumstances, several of which revolving around their status as the only gay couple in town. They've been a traveling duo ever since, with their paranormal TV series dragging them across the country along with their adopted daughter, Logan. But when one of Logan's dads returns to Snakebite and his supposedly short trip turns into months and months, they family decides to return to Snakebite and see what's going on. Someone's keeping secrets. And a boy is already missing. I think The Dead and the Dark works best if you don't know too much about it going into the story, so I'm not going to share any more of the plot. In short: I thought this story took a while to get off of the ground (roughly 75 pages) but then once things started to unravel for Logan and the other characters I could not stop reading this one. It's a bit ghost-y. A bit queer identity struggle. A bit of small town bigotry. A bit of a romance on the side. A bit of a cold-blooded killer. This one sits at some interesting cross-sections, so I can see why some readers feel unsatisfied after finishing it. If you're here for just one thing, then the other bits feel like unwanted excess. But I, personally, was here for the entire experience and, outside of some occasionally clunky writing, I thought this story was extremely well done. Looking forward to seeing Courtney Gould's growth in her next book. Thank you to Wednesday Books for my copy in exchange for an honest review.  4.5 stars
 3.5 stars
Life lessons hidden amongst a gemstone-world filled with heart and humor... a great graphic novel to share with a young reader. Artwork: ★★★★ Plot/Pacing: ★★★ Characters: ★★★ A disclaimer: I am barely knowledgeable on the DC Comics universe. I have enjoyed reading several of the young reader graphic novels coming out of DC, but all of my enjoyment and review base comes from face-value reviews—I do not have any prior knowledge/opinions on the characters in each series. Amaya, princess of House Amethyst in Gemworld, is in trouble. A powerful young girl with a lot of ability and not a lot of life experience, she accidentally creates a huge mess in her parent's castle and breaks their largest protector gemstone. She wasn't ready for the consequences of her actions... Amaya needs a reality check—so her parents send her and an adult caretaker to Earth for a while. It's supposed to be for one week. But then, 3 years later, we meet Amaya as a middle schooler and to our surprise, she's lost ALL of her memories of her time on Gemworld. Something is afoot. With magic, memory, and family all tying together into one purple-tastic adventure, this graphic novel was a ton of fun. I thought the artwork for this one was beautiful. I loved the artist's play on the all of the purple tones of Gemworld, and the fun style of all of the panels for each plot point. Amaya and her antics were interesting. As a mid-20s adult, I'll admit I had a hard time really staying invested in her journey...but this seemed to really be an age thing, as the story itself and the plot progression did not have any issues in it. Just too young for this particular reader. I recommend to anyone with a young one at home who's interested in comic book worlds! (And for anyone who loves purple, obviously.) Thank you to the publisher for my copy in exchange for an honest review.  5 stars
This is Hayao Miyazaki's favorite childhood book—and, according to Neil Gaiman's foreword included in this English translation, it's going to be the focus of his last upcoming film. This book was a beautiful, thought-provoking and philosophical epic wrapped around the story of one young boy's journey in 1937 Japan. It's often the youngest of stories with the largest of messages, and How Do You Live? is no exception. Writing: ★★★★★ Themes: ★★★★★ Enjoyment: ★★★★★ Born and raised in Tokyo, but now finding himself living outside of the city, Copper is a young teenaged boy growing up in 1937 Japan under the guidance of his family. He's trying to make his way in the world like all of us do at that age--looking to family, school, friends, and society for ways and tools on how to be, how to think, and how to live. This novel portrays that sense of "finding oneself" during those tumultuous years in such an entrancing way. There are interjections on ethics, societal reflections, and life lessons. There are moments where Copper struggles for identity amongst his family and lot in life. There are moments where he is just a boy, doing boy things. Life is not just one thing, or even multiple things. And neither are people just one thing, or many things. How Do You Live? showcases those complexities and nuances in ways that are simply astounding for a novel tailored to such a young audience. It's a poignant and compelling read—and, most important, it's an engaging one. I was riveted to Copper's journey and was right there with him for every moment. Do yourself a favor and pick this one if you're interested in the subject or in Hayao Miyazaki's Studio Ghibli films—this book's core resonates with a lot of the master's work. Thank you to the publisher for my copy in exchange for an honest review. |
Amy Imogene ReadsJust someone looking for her own door into Wonderland. Categories
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All reviews posted are my own and do not reflect the opinions of any other individual or entity. When applicable, reviewed titles sent to me by the publisher are noted at the bottom of each review.
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