Nicole Brinkley

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Since the underground caverns are the only place in her town of East Independence, Ohio, where she doesn’t experience hallucinations, 16-year-old Neely takes a job there as a tour guide. There, she meets Mila, a leggy, confident college kid who leads the cavern tour groups. As Neely seeks peace away from her hereditary mental illness and her brother’s haunting suicide, she is drawn to Mila’s kindness, and the two grow closer, eventually buddying up at the staff party—which, between the weed and the alcohol, Neely doesn’t reliably remember anything about. When she and the other tour guides find Mila murdered in the caverns, Neely’s mind breaks. If Neely can figure out who killed Mila, maybe she can get her hallucinations back under control. Assuming, of course, that Neely isn’t the killer.

Award-winning author Mindy McGinnis’ Under This Red Rock is a gritty, brutal young adult novel that blurs the line between broken imagination and reality.

Readers should be prepared for serious themes, including blunt descriptions of suicide, physical and sexual assault, and animal abuse. Those who prefer their psychological thrillers with a raw edge will find McGinnis’s slow-burn plot and fast-paced writing more than satisfactory. Explorations of drug use, the darker side of Internet culture, and how society abandons poorer folks to struggle alone ground a story that could otherwise feel fantastical firmly in reality. Neely’s position as an unreliable narrator will keep readers guessing, leading to several stomach-dropping twists and an ultimately satisfying conclusion.

Disturbing yet compelling, Under This Red Rock is a must-read for readers of unflinching teen thrillers. Fans of Courtney Summers and Tiffany D. Jackson should pick this one up.

Award-winning author Mindy McGinnis' Under This Red Rock is a gritty, brutal young adult novel that blurs the line between broken imagination and reality.
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Without any career prospects after grad school, Alicia finds her dead-end retail job tolerable only because of two co-workers she sort-of calls friends: bright, bubbly Heaven and jaded, focused Mars. After a rare appearance at one of Heaven’s parties, Alicia tries to return to the Toronto apartment she shares with her mother only to be waylaid by River Mumma, the ethereal Jamaican spirit of the water. Somebody has stolen her comb, and if Alicia doesn’t return it to her in 24 hours, River Mumma will leave this world and take all her waters with her.

Unmoored by the request, Alicia sets off to find the thief. But as visions from her ancestors begin to overwhelm her, and wicked spirits called duppies start to chase down her and her friends, Alicia will need to choose a path, step into her family legacy and go where the river takes her.

Millennial ennui and Jamaican legend intertwine in Zalika Reid-Benta’s propulsive debut novel, River Mumma. Alicia’s quest rests on folk medicine and the oft-buried spirituality of diasporic communities, which Reid-Benta juxtaposes against modern issues of social media and poorly organized subway lines, but also uses to lend a mythic tone to her tale of young people struggling to find their purpose in a big city. 

The robust cast of characters, from Heaven’s spiritualist friend, Oni, to the creepy Whooping Boy duppy, keep the story feeling fresh as Alicia catapults between past and present, though River Mumma rightfully takes center stage with each appearance. “Water heals, water nourishes, water has power,” as Heaven declares, and Alicia’s family ties to the water spirit offer her a guiding light through the choppy seas of her late 20s. Ultimately, Alicia, Heaven and Mars learn to embrace the fullness of life over the apathy that helped them survive a mundane day to day. While these themes get lost on occasion, especially in the chaos of duppy attacks, the adventure along the way is worth a sometimes bumpy ride.

For those entranced by folkloric fantasy, and for fans of N.K. Jemisin and Kat Howard, River Mumma will be a must-read.

Millennial ennui and Jamaican legend intertwine in Zalika Reid-Benta's propulsive debut novel, River Mumma.
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When a big, hairy spider moves into a new house, his plan is to hide and catch flies—but then a kind old woman named Betty reaches beneath the couch and feels his fuzz. She thinks he’s a kitten! Newly named Luigi doesn’t want to scare her, so he pretends to be a cat.

It turns out that cats have cushy lives—snacking on cereal, napping in beds, and playing with toys—and the longer Luigi pretends, the more he truly wants to be a kitten. He misses catching flies and his sticky web, but this is better! If he pretends hard enough, maybe Betty will never notice that he isn’t a cat.

However, when Betty’s friends come to visit and comment on how she adopted a spider, he knows the gig is up. But when Betty turns to him, it’s with open arms and a kind question: “Can you be yourself and still be my friend?”

Author Michelle Knudsen and illustrator Kevin Hawkes, the duo behind Library Lion, reunite for the first time in over a decade with Luigi, the Spider Who Wanted to Be a Kitten. Anybody who thinks spiders can’t be cute will be proven wrong with this charmingly illustrated story about identity and honesty.

With acrylics and pencil, Hawkes uses both shadows and Luigi’s long spider legs to expertly convey his kitten-ness, and read-alouds can be paired with easy challenges to kids to match Luigi’s actions: Can you make your hands look like kitten ears? Can you hold your leg back like a tail?

Luigi, the Spider Who Wanted to Be a Kitten warms the heart, highlighting how freeing the truth can be, as well as the fact that you can be more than one thing—so long as you’re happy.

Anybody who thinks spiders can’t be cute will be proven wrong with Luigi, the Spider Who Wanted to Be a Kitten, a charmingly illustrated story about identity and honesty.
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Tony Keith Jr. started writing poems at age 13, and by his senior year of high school in 1999, he’s a well-liked kid with a beautiful girlfriend, a poet voted Prom King and the first in his family to go to college.

But Keith’s perfect life is an illusion: His family is struggling financially after his mother split from father; his grades aren’t high enough to get into college without effort; and he sees the Boogeyman everywhere he goes. Keith’s attempts to hide his Blackness and his gayness warp him into something he cannot recognize and give rise to the Boogeyman, which “is after [his] Blackness.” As high school ends, Keith needs to figure out who he is and if he can embrace what he has tried so hard to reject.

Now a spoken word poet and a hip-hop educational leader, Keith explores his adolescence in How the Boogeyman Became a Poet (Katherine Tegen, $19.99, 9780063296008), a memoir-in-verse that includes poems he wrote in high school as well as photos of teenage Keith.

Keith’s love of poetry and language—and the power of wielding both—radiates from the pages. Beginning in his teen years, he rejects the notion that he must write like the white authors his English teacher loves and embraces the African American vernacular he speaks, refusing to compromise on its validity. Keith reflects that “spending time with [his] poems must be like those therapy sessions [he] see[s] white folks go to in the movies,” and ultimately it is his poetry that wards off the Boogeyman and empowers him to embrace his personal truths. Keith builds a strong personal community—”him: me: us: we”—even as he moves between friend groups in college, giving him a place he can return to and people he can fight for. 

Though the details of the memoir—placing CD-ROMs in a shared family computer and sneakily paying for a subscription for AOL Instant Messenger—firmly place Keith’s life in the ‘90s, the things Keith endures will resonate with contemporary teenagers. The challenges of college, the struggles of understanding sexual identity, and the pressure to conform as a gay and Black person in a world that centers heterosexuality and whiteness are still relevant. Teens will find solace in his survival and flourishing as well as obtaining a glimpse of a fascinating time gone by.

Keith’s strong on-page voice will leave readers wanting to listen to his spoken word performances, but for those who prefer text, pair How the Boogeyman Became a Poet with Black Flamingo by Dean Atta, All Boys Aren’t Blue by George M. Johnson or Disorientation: Being Black in the World by Ian Williams.

The depiction of struggling through a world that centers heterosexuality and whiteness in How the Boogeyman Became a Poet will resonate with contemporary teenagers.
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Every year, Lucía looks forward to watching the northern migration of the monarch butterflies —but this year, her Papá is leaving with them. He needs to find seasonal farm work to support his family. Lucía spends the warm months without him or her beloved monarcas, strumming on his guitarra when she gets lonely—“Songs soothe weeping hearts,” Papá says—and as autumn returns, Lucía counts down the days until those she loves return to her.

Author Cynthia Harmony and illustrator Devon Holzwarth have crafted a beautiful story about the life of the monarch butterfly and what it represents to a migrant farmer’s family in A Flicker of Hope: A Story of Migration. Though Lucía and Papá’s desire to see each other again is bittersweet and moving, the real standout is Holzwarth’s colorful illustration work. Monarch butterflies litter nearly every page and morph into what Lucía and Papá need them to be: the music strummed from a guitar, a path the car takes to work, Día de los Muertos skulls.

Back matter gives information about the monarch reserve in Mexico and elaborates on the connection between indigenous Mazahua culture and the butterfly, particularly its connection to Día de los Muertos. Readers desiring more extensive ecological and political details about seasonal work will need to find them elsewhere, as the back matter limits itself to discussing the metaphor of the book and only touches upon the hardships posed by seasonal harvesting in America, and how this is the only choice for many Michoacán workers.

For those who love butterflies or those looking for picture books that explore an aspect of the immigrant experience, A Flicker of Hope will be a meaningful, beautifully illustrated addition to their shelves.

Author Cynthia Harmony and illustrator Devon Holzwarth have crafted a beautifully illustrated story about the life of the monarch butterfly and what it represents to a migrant farmer’s family in A Flicker of Hope.
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Between jobs, Roy DeCarava would pop a new film canister into his black-and-white camera and capture the day-to-day lives of the neighborhood he called home: Harlem. As he photographed the world around him—from a young Black boy drawing with sidewalk chalk, to a sunlit Black woman standing in a white dress, or an older Black painter selling his work on the street—DeCarava amassed a world-renowned collection that honored his Harlem neighbors. 

Everywhere Beauty Is Harlem: The Vision of Photographer Roy DeCarava is the first book written about the life of the essential American photographer. Award-winning illustrator E.B. Lewis pays tribute by reenvisioning DeCarava’s iconic photographs as full-color paintings, imagining what DeCarava may have seen in the seconds before the film captured a moment forever in black and white. Playful juxtaposition of opposing concepts in the text, such as using eyes to listen or hungering for something that isn’t food, keeps the narrative bouncing forward. Emphasis on DeCarava’s search for beauty in every element of ordinary life—marked by the camera’s repeated “SNAP!”—provides a grounded base for relating to the photographer. Everywhere Beauty Is Harlem inspires readers to “look slowly” and discover a deep love for the everyday moments in their lives. After all, as author Gary Golio writes, “Life is how you look at it.” 

Quotes from DeCarava appear throughout Golio’s precise narrative text as well as a short biography in the backmatter that adds illuminating context and includes a statement by DeCarava himself, in which he proudly proclaims his intent to dignify Black lives and experiences through his work. A robust timeline puts into perspective the social and cultural changes that Harlem would have experienced throughout DeCarava’s life. Though the book lacks any of DeCarava’s actual photography, the biography and images of DeCarava and his camera will spark eagerness in readers for additional information. 

Everywhere Beauty Is Harlem honors a classic artist in a biographical picture book both beautiful and educational. Fans of Lesa Cline-Ransome or Carole Boston Weatherford will find this a worthy addition to their picture book collection.

This beautiful biographical picture book about the essential American photographer Roy DeCarava will inspire readers to “look slowly” and discover a deep love for the everyday moments in their lives.
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The Unnatural History Museum may be falling apart, but it’s Kess Pedrock’s home and contains almost everything she loves: mysterious and magical skeletons from Eelgrass Bog, her petulant and perpetually busy brother, and her best friend Jim, a demon trapped as a jarred shrunken head. Only her parents are missing, but maybe, when they come back from their trip in Antarctica, they can save the museum. Until then, it’s up to Kess.

One day, the museum finally receives a visitor in the form of a girl named Lilou Starling, who later reveals that her grandfather died and left her a mysterious map with a cryptic puzzle scrawled on its back. This puzzle can only be solved by venturing into the bog itself. Despite Jim’s warnings, Kess sets off with Lilou, determined to both save the Unnatural History Museum and impress her new friend. But between the burning watch fires and eccentric witches, Kess discovers that more of her life is tied up in the bog than she could ever have anticipated. And digging too deep might destroy the one thing she’s trying to save.

Mary Averling bewitches with her debut middle grade novel, The Curse of Eelgrass Bog, which straddles the line between slimy and sweet, concocting a fantasy world that balances snarky demons, magical bogs, concerned witches and awe-inspiring serpents.

The mystery left behind by Lilou’s grandfather will keep even the sharpest readers on their toes, leaving them gasping as the perfectly paced story comes to a head. Averling handles Kess’ emotional struggles—particularly her fluttery feelings toward her newfound friend, as well as her simultaneous sense of obligation toward and longing for her missing parents—with a nuanced yet optimistic lens that will endear Kess to readers.

Whimsically creepy, The Curse of Eelgrass Bog will delight middle grade fans, especially those who loved Claribel Ortega’s The Witchlings or Jacqueline Davies’ The International House of Dereliction. Readers who love fantastical stories—or digging for magical bones in the dirt—should add this to their shelves.

Mary Averling bewitches with her debut middle grade novel, The Curse of Eelgrass Bog, which straddles the line between slimy and sweet, concocting a fantasy world that balances snarky demons, magical bogs, concerned witches and awe-inspiring serpents.
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No role in the Temple is more highly prized than that of Herald: a human who lives among the gods and once a year, escorts an immortal through the Mirror into the mortal world to usher in a new season. Tirne relishes her position as Autumn’s Herald and will do anything to keep the role, from neglecting her friends to hiding her debilitating migraines.

But this year, when Tirne touches the Mirror, it shatters, trapping both her and the god in the mortal world. The resulting endless autumn and the crop failures that come with it aren’t the only things Tirne has to fear. The leaders of the Temple think she destroyed the Mirror on purpose and strip her of her duties. They keep an eye on her for traitorous behavior—when they aren’t bottling her blood to test on the Mirror.

The longer Tirne stays in the mortal world, the worse her headaches will get and the more human Autumn will become. If the Temple can’t figure out who shattered the Mirror, Tirne will. But as she digs, Tirne discovers lies that wrap around not only the Temple, but around the gods themselves.

Author Amy Avery pulls from Greek mythology to create the languid, fantastical setting of The Longest Autumn. The four gods of the seasons, their estranged father and a fallen god with shadowbeasts at his call are the foundation of the complex world of the Temple, and fans of Grecian-inspired fantasies will enjoy the compelling—if unevenly paced—story that unfolds within it.

As in the Hellenistic myths that influenced it, sex is at the forefront of The Longest Autumn, with near-constant discussion around who Autumn is courting, which of Tirne’s friends are sleeping together and who Tirne herself finds attractive. Sexual and romantic identities of all kinds are welcome in the Temple, but rarely do more erotic details make the page, placing this novel low on the proverbial spice scale. Rather, Avery is preoccupied with the messy politicking of religion, and Tirne’s decisions are largely driven by social turmoil between her friends and her unstable alliances, rather than romance.

Where Avery really excels is world building, which is original throughout. Tirne manages her chronic pain with medicine but also alchemical concoctions made from magical blood, the fascinating details of which impact the plot without detracting from Tirne’s dismantling of the stories she’s been told and the lies about the seasonal gods.

The Longest Autumn will appeal to fans of Jennifer Saint’s Elektra or fantasy readers looking for something quiet and character-driven.

The Longest Autumn will appeal to fans of Jennifer Saint’s Elektra or fantasy readers looking for something quiet and character-driven.
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As the apprentice to Mestra Aronne, 11-year-old Cinzia knows that strength lies in telling the truth. Together, she and Mestra Aronne print avvisi: hand-created newspapers that update the bustling city of Siannerra on the latest news.

When Mestra Aronne announces in an avvisi that the principessa’s brother is stealing money from hardworking citizens, she and Cinzia are dragged to the palazzo to be charged with treason. Cinzia manages to escape, returning to Siannerra with the help of the principessa’s strange but passionate daughter, Elena. Together, they set off to find evidence that Mestra Aronne was telling the truth and save her from jail, with the help of a pirate girl and her gang. Can Cinzia convince the people of Siannerra to help stop censorship in their city? 

The first collaboration between New York Times bestselling author Marieke Nijkamp and debut illustrator Sylvia Bi, Ink Girls pulls inspiration from Italian history as it explores the power of truth. The central issue of censorship is the most obvious echo of our modern era, but other subplots—including how city leadership can fail to consider marginalized groups, and how “not every family knows how to be a family”—also make this historical fantasy graphic novel feel fresh and relevant. 

Bi excels with spreads of the vast cityscape, and her charming illustrations feature inclusive character designs, though some of the panels are drawn at awkward angles. This shouldn’t be an issue for anything but the more eagle-eyed readers: the plot, pacing and colors are compelling enough to keep the story moving forward. 

Although the ending wraps up perhaps too neatly for a book with political themes, there is no doubt that readers will feel inspired. Back matter explains how avvisi actually once existed in Italy, and while the city of Siannerra isn’t real, Nijkamp and Bi hope their fictional girls can provide motivation to improve the real world. 

Ink Girls will resonate with readers facing censorship in their own communities, while also delighting those just looking for a historical adventure. Hand this to fans of Netflix’s The Sea Beast or pair with Niki Smith’s The Deep & Dark Blue and Ru Xu’s NewsPrints as stories featuring girl gangs and political intrigue. 

Ink Girls will resonate with readers facing censorship in their own communities, while also delighting those just looking for a historical adventure.
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tree. In order to get more fruit, Baby Bear needs to climb. As he begins to make the long trek up the tree, he runs into other red creatures: a tiny caterpillar, a frisky squirrel and a rambunctious hive of bees. Still, there is no fruit to be found!

But what’s that coming up over the horizon? It’s big and red and beautiful, and Baby Bear leaps to grab it—but tumbles back down to the world below, passing his newfound friends and falling back into the safety of Mama Bear’s arms.

Curiosity is the driving force behind Lee Gee Eun’s picture book The Red Fruit, which captures the natural wonder that all kids experience through Baby Bear’s desire to see what fruits he can find at the top of the tree. The book’s message doesn’t need to be subtle to be sweet: If kids try something and fall, their own Mama Bear (or the equivalent parental figure in their life) will be there to catch them.

Lee’s international honors include the Bologna Ragazzi Award. Her black-and-white artwork shines in The Red Fruit, where her minimalist illustrations create a landscape that feels wide despite the book’s trim size. Baby Bear’s quirky facial expressions are adorable and perfectly portray a child’s unbridled inquisitiveness. Lee’s splashes of red and yellow against the monochrome world will offer a great introduction to color for parents and teachers looking to educate.

Pair this sweet and beautifully illustrated story with Cat Min’s Shy Willow, Corey R. Tabor’s Mel Fell, and Grace Lin’s A Big Mooncake For Little Star for story times that explore the risks and rewards of curiosity.

The Red Fruit captures the natural wonder that all kids experience through Baby Bear’s desire to see what fruits he can find at the top of the tree.
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Aniana del Mar knows how to keep a secret. At her papi’s insistence, Ani keeps her swim meets and the medals she wins hidden from her mami, who fears the water after a hurricane destroyed her home and killed her brother. So when Ani’s body starts to ache, her joints swelling and her limbs radiating with pain, it’s not a difficult decision for Ani to keep it all a secret in order to continue swimming.

But then one morning, Ani wakes up in so much pain that she cannot move, and her life changes irrevocably. To help her doctors understand what might be happening, Ani must reveal to them—and to her mami—the truth about swimming. After Ani is diagnosed with juvenile idiopathic arthritis (JIA), she feels as though she’s losing her swim team, her ability to focus in school and her mami’s trust. She clings to her hope of getting back in the water, but how can she convince her family to let her swim again when all they seem to do is worry? 

Characters with chronic pain are underrepresented in children’s literature, and in Aniana del Mar Jumps In, Dominican American debut author Jasminne Mendez offers a welcome addition to this small but growing group. The novel has many strengths, including Mendez’s excellent portrayal of Ani’s family and skillful juxtaposition of Ani’s religious mother with her more spiritual godmother, but it shines brightest in Mendez’s approach to writing about Ani’s JIA.

Ani’s initial realization that her aches aren’t typical, her choice to conceal her pain and the spiraling effects of that choice all offer realistic glimpses of what it’s like to deal with chronic illness at a young age. After her diagnosis, Ani struggles with the disconnect between how everyone around her treats her—as someone who is courageous but fragile—and the fact that she views herself as a girl who isn’t brave, but just “managing [her] life now.” Her realization that she’ll never be able to return to being “Old Ani” is reassuring and empowering. In a poem titled “New Ani,” she reflects, “New Ani knows that this is her body and she can / decide what to do with it. // New Ani is learning that she is strong enough, / like Galveston, to survive storm surges and sea sickness.”

Mendez conveys all of this through clever, accessible narrative verse. She makes creative use of added space between words, lines and letters (l i k e  so), as well as capitalization (“DriBbLe CrOsSoVeR / SHOOT!”). Young readers will not only immediately recognize many of these techniques from their own text messages but also be able to easily replicate them within their own poetry. For those especially eager to try their hand, Mendez includes a short guide to the various poetic forms she employed.

Aniana del Mar Jumps In will be enjoyed by aspiring poets and readers who like moving novels in verse such as Jasmine Warga’s Other Words for Home and Andrea Beatriz Arango’s Iveliz Explains It All. It will strike an even deeper chord with any reader who, like Ani, has experienced chronic pain—even if they try not to let it show.

Debut author Jasminne Mendez offers a welcome portrayal of a young protagonist navigating chronic pain in this accessible and empowering novel in verse.
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Second-generation Syrian American Khadija Shaami lives to buck the expectations of others, especially her overbearing mother. She loves driving her huge, luxurious Mercedes-Benz G-wagon, has decked out her bedroom with Syrian flags and artwork and is the only Muslim girl who boxes at her gym. Leene Taher, a refugee from Syria, seems to embody all the stereotypes Khadija wants to defy. Leene is a respectful, diligent daughter who’s grieving the loss of her father and brother while trying her best to fit in and make friends in a new country. When Khadija’s mother invites Leene and her mother to live with them and all but insists that the girls become friends, both are positive that it will never happen.

Yet as time passes, Khadija and Leene realize that their differences might be useful to each other. Khadija can help Leene find her place in America, and Leene can help Khadija placate her mother and earn permission to travel abroad next summer. But as the two begin to reveal their secrets to each other, an opportunity arrives that could heal their families and cement their friendship—if they’re brave enough to pursue it.

The Next New Syrian Girl is a heartbreaking but hopeful story about two girls trying to do right by their families while finding their own independent paths. Syrian American debut author Ream Shukairy balances moments of joy—scenes at Khadija’s boxing gym, shared rides in the car that Leene dubs “the Tank” and a particularly funny reference to popular professional wrester John Cena—with weighty themes, including grief, depression, suicide, racism and war.  

The book’s brightest light is Shukairy’s depiction of how Khadija and Leene embrace their identities and come to value their unique passions and dreams. Their distinct voices flow well together within the novel’s dual-narrative structure, offering portrayals of two young women who refuse to let simplistic definitions rule their lives. This refusal is often literal, as Khadija frequently offers up dictionary-style vocabulary explanations before countering them with her own perspective, and Leene is equally fascinated by the concept of semantics, “the meaning of words based on context.” 

The Next New Syrian Girl could be more consistently paced—it’s front-loaded with repetitious details and races through its back half—but the large cast of supporting characters provides ample rewards. Standouts include Khadija’s emotionally complex mother and her kindhearted crush at the gym. Shukairy skillfully illuminates the many ways that Khadija’s and Leene’s lives are shaped by the presence and the absence of loved ones, and these dynamics lead to rich contrasts throughout. 

For readers who enjoy heart-wrenching, character-driven novels, The Next New Syrian Girl establishes Shukairy as a new author to watch. 

Ream Shukairy’s portrayal of two young women who refuse to let simplistic definitions rule their lives establishes her as a new author to watch.
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Seventeen-year-old Alonda is a straight-A student who never gets in trouble and does whatever her strict, overprotective guardian, Teresa, asks of her—all while keeping her dreams locked up tight inside. But when the sweltering June heat has her fleeing to the window of her Coney Island apartment in search of a cool breeze, Alonda spots something that sends those dreams tumbling out into the open: four teens practicing professional wrestling on the playground below.

It takes Alonda a week to work up the nerve, but she introduces herself to the ragtag group, and soon she’s joining them. In between her chores and her new job at a nearby amusement park, Alonda cuts promos (the speeches that establish characters and the personal stakes of matches), perfects hip tosses and hurricaranas and forms deep friendships with King, Lexi, Spider and Pretzel. But figuring out her own wrestling persona, the titular Alondra, is harder, because Alonda isn’t sure what she wants. Is it to wrestle in front of a crowd of adoring fans? Is it doing what her mother, who died when Alonda was 7, would have wanted? Is it to pursue her attraction to King, the handsome self-proclaimed antihero of their group, or her feelings for Lexi, the artistic in-ring superhero?

Award-winning playwright Gina Femia’s first YA novel, Alondra, is a fast-paced, queer homage to summer in Brooklyn. Alonda and her band of hardworking misfit wrestlers are well-crafted and grounded, and Femia captures their close connections as she places them in dramatic yet familiar situations: making art, fighting with parents and caregivers, deciding what college to attend and exploring who they could be if they allowed themselves to be anything. Readers will yell, cringe and cheer as Alonda finds her bisexuality and her voice, as her friends find their footing as a troupe and as her guardian, Teresa, finds self-confidence after years of shouldering her burdens alone.

Alondra is set in 2015, which prevents Femia from referencing the numerous female professional wrestlers who achieved widespread popularity after shifts in the industry, beginning in 2016, resulted in greater support of female talent. Instead, readers will find mentions of figures such as John Cena, Eddie Guerrero and AJ Lee, which may make the novel feel dated for teens deep in the wrestling fandom. However, Alonda’s love for wrestling’s technical aspects, from the way her friends edit their video packages to the bruises she earns while squaring up with Lexi, shines through and acts as the perfect backdrop for her internal struggles with identity.

Like the best professional wrestling performances, Alondra is a heartfelt story that provides a realistic yet blissful experience.

In this heartfelt novel, Alonda joins a group of teens practicing professional wrestling and confronts questions of identity and desire in and out of the ring.

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