The Corruption of Hollis Brown is written in sharply vivid vignettes, like the literary equivalent of macrophotography: intimacy on a grand scale that makes the reader want to both back away and lean closer.
The Corruption of Hollis Brown is written in sharply vivid vignettes, like the literary equivalent of macrophotography: intimacy on a grand scale that makes the reader want to both back away and lean closer.
In Pencil, Hye-Eun Kim artfully blends the fanciful and the practical as she invites readers to ponder cycles of destruction and renewal, creativity and inspiration.
In Pencil, Hye-Eun Kim artfully blends the fanciful and the practical as she invites readers to ponder cycles of destruction and renewal, creativity and inspiration.
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What inspired the desert setting of Oasis?
The desert represents vastness, harshness and emptiness. It also symbolizes the destruction of old ideas, ways of living and civilizations. The story follows two children who show strength as they struggle to survive in a lifeless desert and create their own natural oasis. This extreme desert setting becomes the backdrop for exploring the metaphorical oasis, highlighting the stark contrast between the sacrifices demanded by shiny, artificial progress and the core of human nature and the true essence of humanity.

Your previous two graphic novels, Stormy and The Flamingo, both utilized vibrant colors. Oasis is more muted. What is your process when developing a color palette?

The children live in a forgotten and polluted city in the desert, which is also a landfill from Oasis City. It’s dry, chaotic and hopeless. Bright colors are obviously not suitable for this story, so I used low-key colors to express their mood and situation, and also the unique beauty of the desert.

JieJie and DiDi live alone while waiting for their mother to secure a way for them to join her in Oasis City. This resembles many real-life immigration experiences, and Oasis is specifically dedicated to the left-behind children within China. Can you speak about this theme of migration? 

In reality, many children are left behind for various reasons, and one of the most notable examples can be found in China. Many migrant workers move to the cities in search of better opportunities or a brighter future. However, due to the hukou system—a household registration system similar to a local residence permit—children face significant challenges in accessing education and social benefits in urban areas. As a result, a large number of children are left behind in rural areas, often living with their grandparents. This has led to a growing crisis, with countless children raised without their parents, resulting in emotional distance and a breakdown of fundamental human connections. This situation deeply saddens me, and in my story, the two children represent those who are left behind.

“Despite advancements in technology, why have our most basic and simple needs become luxurious and out of reach? Why are people feeling lonelier and more indifferent?”

The children find moments of happiness even while living in a brutal environment. For example, they enjoy the “beautiful pink color” of the sunset—despite it being a result of pollution. How did you maintain the gentleness in this story, despite its harsh circumstances?

I lived in Beijing for a while during the worst of the smog. I still remember the sight of the beautiful pink sun, partly hidden by the fog. Its color was soft and magical. I also experienced dramatic sandstorms that, for just a few minutes at noon, turned the world dark, as if it were the end of the world. I’ve kept these images in my mind and used them in my story. In one scene, the pink sun represents the children’s longing for their mother—an unreachable wish, like a dream lost in the mist.

The story takes place close to the Mid-Autumn Festival (“moon festival” in the book). What does that festival mean to you? 

The Mid-Autumn Festival, with a history spanning over a thousand years, is a day dedicated to family reunions, with the moon serving as a symbol of this togetherness. On this day, families gather to admire the moon together. In Chinese legends, the moon often represents family members who are absent. One such legend tells of a lonely beauty residing on the moon in a cold palace, longing to be reunited with her family. For me, the Mid-Autumn Festival is just as special as it is for any other Chinese person: It’s a time spent with my parents, grandparents and loved ones, filled with food, laughter and joyful talks.

Do you see Oasis reflecting the labor realities of our world?

In Oasis, which is an upside-down world, the children’s mother has no name. Instead, [she is referred to by] a number in a factory, while artificial intelligence provides the human emotions [in the story]. We see that humans have to work like machines, and having the most basic human emotions has become a luxury. This is not a plot in science fiction. We see it from [factory workers in real life] who fight for their family and a better future for their children.

The mother “works like a robot,” while the AI mom performs the actions of a human mother. How would you describe the dynamic between human and robot in this story? 

The human mother is simple and ordinary, not endowed with superpowers or magic like AI. Yet, for her children, she remains an irreplaceable figure. Her senses, smile, embrace, voice and even her scent cannot be replicated by AI in this story. The true essence of motherhood is unique and incomparable. Since becoming a mother myself, I’ve felt this strength more deeply than ever. The AI robot may serve as a caregiver, a guardian and perhaps even a friend, but it can never replace the warmth and depth of a mother’s love.

Read our starred review of Oasis here.

In Oasis, AI robots can build cities, or fight on the battlefield, or act as mothers. What was the significance of including these different modes? 

AI can become whatever we choose it to be, depending on how we use it. It holds the potential to either help or harm us. In my story, while an insecure human society creates technology driven by its own fears, two children demonstrate how they repurpose the same technology to play a different role, ultimately benefiting the core of humanity.

In the end, the AI robot provides a way for the mother to escape her struggles. Do you envision a hopeful future with AI?

Despite advancements in technology, why have our most basic and simple needs become luxurious and out of reach? Why are people feeling lonelier and more indifferent? Like the ending of the book, I hope AI evolves beyond a tool for the wealthy; I wish for it to help humanity reconnect with its true nature, embrace each other and support those in need.

 

In the author’s latest graphic novel, Oasis, two children seek comfort in a discarded AI robot, while their mother labors in a factory in order to give them a better life.

What does the wind know? How will the wind blow? Follow along as three siblings discover the answers to these questions and much more in Micha Archer’s Wind Watchers. In Spring, Wind ruffles flower petals and nudges rain clouds. In Summer, Wind fills sails and sends kites soaring. “Some summer days, when it’s too hot to move, we beg Wind to bring us a breeze.” Fall brings Wind scattering seeds and leaves, before Winter arrives and Wind forces us inside to watch for swirling snow.

As with many of Archer’s previous picture books, Wind Watchers is deeply rooted in nature and how we interact with it. While the narrative follows the siblings on their explorations through the year, it is Wind who is truly the main character of this story. Wind comforts, plays, sings, surprises. “‘Some days I like to be WILD!’ Wind roars.” Some days, Wind is so calm that readers might wonder, alongside the siblings, “Are you there?” The lyrical text moves slowly and gracefully, with subtle uses of alliteration and snippets of dialogue between the children and the wind itself. Wind Watchers begs to be read aloud again and again.

Archer’s signature collage illustrations bring the adventures of these three siblings to life in a way only she can. Like in Wonder Walkers (2021), Archer’s use of full spreads for every illustration allows a sense of wonder and playfulness with scale. Whether an intimate close-up of the siblings looking through a window, or a zoomed out view of the siblings next to a vast ocean, each picture captures a distinct moment in time and carries feeling and wonderment.

A breathtaking journey through the seasons, Wind Watchers is a perfect companion to Wonder Walkers. Readers will be filled with joy and whimsy and be inspired to get outside, no matter the season, to explore and experience the wind once more!

A breathtaking journey through the seasons, Wind Watchers will fill readers with joy and inspire them to get outside, no matter the season, to experience the wind once more!

The Peach Thief is absolutely a story any fan of The Secret Garden will devour: It features magic walled gardens, characters with mysterious pasts, and girls on their own. It’s no surprise then that Linda Joan Smith cites Frances Hodgson Burnett’s classic as an inspiration for her delicious middle grade debut, a historical novel set in Lancashire, England, in 1850.

Smith has written nonfiction gardening books, and her detailed knowledge of plants, orchards and garden history shines through this tale inspired by actual Victorian garden practices. The novel opens with a map of the Earl of Havermore’s kitchen garden, a place irresistible to hungry 13-year-old workhouse orphan Scilla for its promise of treasure—not gold but peaches. She’s had a bite of one and wants more, and there just might be peaches growing here in the earl’s glass garden house. Scilla sneaks into the garden at night, wearing boys’ clothes with her hair cut short, only to be caught by Mr. Layton, the gruff head gardener with a tragic past. To avoid being hauled off to the magistrate, Scilla gives her name as Seth Brown and talks herself into a job scrubbing garden pots.

Scilla, now nicknamed Brownie, discovers she loves the work. Scilla is earnest and likable; readers will cheer her on as she tries to keep her identity secret from the other workers and find her place. But Smith also gives her young protagonist some significant blind spots and challenges. Not all her choices are good ones, and readers will find themselves urging Scilla to be careful whom she trusts. Scilla gets unexpected help from Mr. Layton’s housekeeper, Mrs. Nandi, who has come with him from Calcutta, and from Mr. Layton himself. But Smith avoids sentimentality, wisely giving the reader only hints of what this brave young girl has come to mean to them both.

This lovely, well-drawn novel will appeal to historical fiction fans and kids who love plants, and will make a great bedtime read-aloud. And adults, be forewarned: You may cry at the end.

With its earnest and likable protagonist, The Peach Thief is a lovely, well-drawn novel that will appeal to historical fiction fans and kids who love plants.
Review by

The Gift of the Great Buffalo is a thrilling adventure story and an excellent history lesson about Métis-Ojibwe culture all wrapped up in one. The author of We Are the Water Protectors, Carole Lindstrom, who is Métis and an enrolled member of the Turtle Mountain Band of Ojibwe, explains in an author’s note that although she grew up enjoying Laura Ingalls Wilder’s Little House books, “being portrayed as a ‘savage’ in a book where I felt an actual kinship to Laura Ingalls was very difficult for me to understand. It felt as if I were being hurt by a friend.”

Lindstrom wrote The Gift of the Great Buffalo to let readers know that “before there was a little house on the prairie, there was a little tipi on the prairie.” The book follows Rose, a young Métis girl accompanying her family to a big gathering for a twice-a-year buffalo hunt. Readers will be fascinated to see how the group hunt is organized, with “strict laws that were enforced by the captains, to ensure order and fairness.” Lindstrom skillfully incorporates other historical context as well, noting that European settlers had already eliminated most of the buffalo.

Aly McKnight’s illustrations capture the close relationship between Rose and her family, the sense of community fostered by the hunt, and the excitement of the big gathering. She wonderfully depicts tangible objects, like a steam locomotive—an invention that hastened the demise of the buffalo—as well as the spiritual connections Rose and her family have to the land and the animals they hunt. In a moving spread, readers see Rose listening to the voice of the buffalo spirit as a giant herd grazes amidst the green prairie grasses.

When Rose’s father, who is a captain, and others have trouble finding buffalo, Rose takes matters into her own hands in a daring show of female empowerment. While the story is both compelling and satisfying, the actual hunt is not portrayed—which is understandable, although its omission feels somewhat glaring, with only a single line mentioning, “It was a good hunting day.” Overall, The Gift of the Great Buffalo offers a meaningful look at Métis-Ojibwe history, and will have broad appeal for young readers.

The Gift of the Great Buffalo offers a meaningful look at Métis-Ojibwe history, and will have broad appeal for young readers.

School breaks were an especially happy time for young Jung-soon Go. She got to enjoy not only the respite from studying, but also time at her wonderful grandparents’ home. As the South Korean author and illustrator recalls in her debut Okchundang Candy, a graphic memoir translated by Aerin Park, her grandparents welcomed little Jung-soon for “summer lingering,” which included dyeing each other’s nails with crushed flower petals, lounging in front of a fan and snuggling up together at bedtime.

Grandpa was a boisterous sort, who “sang me my cartoon theme songs in his own particular way, not even close to the original ones on TV,” while Grandma was shy and relied on Grandpa as her only friend. The couple cared for their neighborhood: They were kind to the tenants that lived in their house (“bar ladies” no one else would rent to) and cleaned the alleyways every weekend in an effort to foster community. And they offered Go safe harbor: “I think I loved watching my grandparents being so sweet to each other because my own parents were so busy fighting back home.”

Go’s finely detailed illustrations in pencil and watercolor are as sweet as her words, especially when depicting her grandparents’ affection for each other. The spreads transform into touching evocations of remembered pain as she reflects on her grandfather’s illness and eventual death from lung cancer, followed by her grandmother being diagnosed with Alzheimer’s.The author is honest about the grief she felt over her grandfather’s decline and the devastating changes in her grandmother, who once lit up at the sight of Go’s grandfather but now lived in a nursing home, drawing circles over and over.  Could it be that she was thinking of the round shape of her favorite treat, the okchundang candy, which held special significance for the couple?

Okchundang Candy won the Special Prize in the 2023 Korea Picture Book Awards. It is a beautifully rendered remembrance of grief and loss, and a moving meditation on the bonds of family and the power of everlasting love.

Okchundang Candy is a beautifully rendered remembrance of grief and loss, as well as a moving meditation on the bonds of family and the power of everlasting love.
Review by

In the opening pages of Caldecott honoree (They All Saw a Cat) Brendan Wenzel’s radiant new picture book, Good Golden Sun, the sun’s rays just barely glint over the hilly horizon, tinting a deep purple night sky with the first shimmering roses and violets of dawn. A bee, still a shadowy silhouette in the early daylight, approaches a flower whose newly opened petals have been transformed to a luminous gold. The bee sips from the flower and . . . voila! It too has taken on the sun’s golden hue.

On subsequent pages, bee makes honey, bear eats honey, mosquito bites bear, bird eats mosquito, and on and on. As each takes on the sun’s golden glow, readers can visualize, in the most beautifully evocative way imaginable, the transfer of the sun’s energy to all of Earth’s living things, including, as the sun recedes into twilight, a young human.

Wenzel’s gorgeous artwork, rendered in cut paper and other mixed media, accompanies a series of questions posed by each character to the sun. These questions reflect particular concerns. For example, the mouse asks questions stemming from justified fears: “Good golden sun, / are you up there staying safe? / Do you think about the scary things that sometimes lie in wait?” On the other hand, the grain crops, baking under the midday sun, ask “Good golden sun, / could you take a tiny break? / For your rays are scorching hot / and so often there’s no shade.”

Good Golden Sun shows it’s possible to integrate STEM topics in an age-appropriate way that doesn’t sacrifice lyrical language, discussion-sparking philosophical questions, gorgeous artwork or moments of humor (young listeners will giggle to see how energy is transferred from the fox to the earthworms and plants). This is a joyful ode to the Earth’s interdependence, one that grows alongside readers.

Good Golden Sun shows it's possible to integrate STEM topics in an age-appropriate way that doesn't sacrifice lyrical language, discussion-sparking philosophical questions, gorgeous artwork or moments of humor.

The adorably precocious star of Every Monday Mabel is the opposite of famously cranky cartoon cat Garfield: She loves Mondays. In fact, she thinks, “Monday is the best day of the week.”

As Jashar Awan conveys via punchy, vivid art and wryly humorous text, Mabel’s Mondays have a ritual. She rises early, dresses, drags her chair through the house—stopping only to get herself a bowl of Cocoa Os—and sets up shop at “the top of the driveway. The perfect spot to sit and wait.” Suspense builds as Awan traces Mabel’s path through the family home: Where is she going? Why does she need a chair? And what’s got her so focused and determined?

Mabel’s parents and sister engage in their own morning rituals, too. Older sister Mira reads and listens to music as she rolls her eyes at Mabel doing “the most boring thing.” Plant-loving Mom waters an indoor tree and smiles as Mabel “does the cutest thing.” And sports-jersey-clad Dad drinks coffee as he watches her do “the funniest thing.”

Mabel steadily eats her big bowl of chocolate cereal until, at long last, the object of her admiration appears, with a “RRRRRRRRRRRRR!” and a “HONK HONK!”: the glorious garbage truck. It’s big and bright and loud, and makes trash disappear. What’s not to like? She marvels at the green behemoth’s impressive attributes (“The hubcaps shine! The engine roars! The brakes squeak! The lights flash!”) as a bright, sunny yellow background heightens five wonderful pages of intense excitement.

Awan, the creator of Towed By Toad and several other picture books celebrating childlike exuberance, uses a high-contrast palette, fuchsia action lines and skillfully employed onomatopoeia to create eye-catching visuals and fodder for fun read-alouds.Sure to be a favorite reread for kids and grown-ups alike, Every Monday Mabel is an enthusiastic, delightful tribute to community helpers and the many, many people who value and appreciate them. “GAH-DUMP!”

Sure to be a favorite reread for kids and grown-ups alike, Every Monday Mabel is an enthusiastic, delightful tribute to community helpers and the many, many people who value and appreciate them.
Review by

Seventeen-year-old Arcadia “Dia” Gannon lives in Eminence, Missouri, where she gathers cobwebs much like the objects lining the walls of her family’s shop, Prologue Antiques. Then she finds a cryptic online posting for a summer internship at a foundation named for her hero, the late, legendary British game designer Louisiana Veda. Through her company, Darkly, Veda created complex board games, infamous for their macabre conceits and immersive gameplay. 

Despite Dia’s excitement, something feels off about the internship. Veda’s life and death were shrouded in mystery, controversy and conspiracy, and what Dia knows about Veda and Darkly does not square with the posting’s vague descriptions of “clerical work.” Still, Dia feels pulled toward a larger purpose, so she applies and wins one of the coveted spots.

Dia and six others from all over the world arrive in London with no idea what to expect, but Dia soon learns that her instincts were correct: The internship is not what it appears. Soon, she and her fellow interns are in mortal danger. To survive, they must immerse themselves in Veda’s long-buried secrets amid the company’s jagged remains—and the only way out is to play.

Marisha Pessl’s second young adult novel, Darkly, is a twisty, dreamlike puzzlebox thriller. Like Charlie and the Chocolate Factory reflected in a horrifying funhouse mirror, Pessl’s gothic narrative is slyly referential, replete with plump German boys and chases down dark streets. Pessl’s signature surrealism, honed in adult bestsellers like Night Film, is on full display here: The further the characters’ journey descends into unreality, the more delightfully disorienting the reading experience becomes. 

Unfortunately, the novel’s characters suffer from underdevelopment. Darkly is ambitious in scope, but even its 416 pages are not enough to fill out the seven interns beyond the bare outlines of personhood, which may frustrate fans of character-driven thrillers. However, Darkly’s central mystery is tantalizing; it’s sure to entice readers who love a puzzle and will reward their efforts with a delicious twist.

Darkly’s central mystery is tantalizing; it’s sure to entice readers who love a puzzle and will reward their efforts with a delicious twist.
Review by

Dean Stuart makes a stellar debut with Cassi and the House of Memories, a graphic novel about a girl whose beloved grandfather suffers from dementia. It’s not only a sensitive, informative portrayal of how the disease might affect a loved one—especially for young people—but it’s also an exciting adventure story.

Cassi and her grandfather enjoy time together in his garden, but she is puzzled by some of his behaviors, especially when he suddenly doesn’t seem to recognize her. He confesses, “Sometimes I find myself in the dark” and “alone and confused.” Cassi’s grandmother further explains the situation with a helpful visual demonstration that compares falling dominoes to memories, adding, “Sometimes Grandpa goes to places that are familiar only to him. We can’t see them, but they are very real inside his head.” Cassi’s exuberant personality and Stuart’s dynamic illustrations keep things lively, even during these contemplative moments.

When her grandfather wanders off, Cassi begins to search but suddenly finds herself in a mysterious place, which turns out to be what Grandpa calls “his memory palace.” Cassi finds herself rambling through Escher-like structures of stairways, windows, and doors, and also a huge portrait gallery that allows Cassi access to events from her grandfather’s life. When certain scenes disintegrate, Cassi notes, “This must be his memory falling apart!”

Stuart’s distinctive illustrations are painterly in the very best way—distinct from the comic-book styles found in many other middle grade graphic novels—and full of both action and beauty. He cleverly distinguishes between the present, Grandpa’s memories and the haze of confusion that sometimes overtakes Grandpa’s brain.  Stuart’s use of color and pattern is particularly adept. Many colors that should be bright are muted throughout, accentuating the book’s exploration of fading memory. Cassi’s striped dress helps readers keep track of her in each scene, as does the red sweater Grandpa wears in his old age. Throughout, an elusive, colorful blue butterfly helps steer Cassi through the chaos. In an afterword, Stuart explains that his own father suffered from dementia, and that his goal with Cassi and the House of Memories “was to make a story about connecting.” Cassi learns to appreciate the many dreams, disappointments and events of her grandfather’s life—aspects such as his musical talent—and even manages to alter a past tragedy during an action-packed circus episode. Cassi and the House of Memories is a moving depiction of a grandparent and grandchild’s enduring love and continued understanding in the face of dementia.

Cassi and the House of Memories is a moving depiction of a grandparent and grandchild’s enduring love and continued understanding in the face of dementia.
Review by

Banned Together: Our Fight for Readers’ Rights is a vibrant, invaluable handbook for young adults about book bans, why they’re happening, and how they can be challenged. Editor Ashley Hope Pérez, whose novel Out of Darkness became one of the most banned books in the United States, has assembled an expertly curated collection of personal essays, poems, graphic art and fiction from numerous award-winning YA authors and illustrators. 

Early on, a list of frequently asked questions about book bans notes that “from July 2021 to June 2023, PEN America documented a total of 5,894 book bans across 41 states and 247 public school districts. These book bans restricted access to the work of 2,598 authors, illustrators, and translators.” Pérez writes in her introduction, “This collection says NO WAY. We’re bringing those writers’ voices back to readers.” 

In both style and substance, Banned Together is full of appeal. Each piece opens with a portrait of its contributor by illustrator Debbie Fong (whose Next Stop was one of BookPage’s Best Middle Grade Books of 2024), followed by a short bio. These smiling portraits reinforce the feeling of a shared conversation between readers and writers. Many of the pieces are moving and personal, guaranteed to help struggling teenagers and deepen empathy and compassion. Elana K. Arnold, for instance, writes about a sexual assault she endured in college and how it affected an old friendship decades later. Equally moving is Bill Konigsberg’s essay about how he was groomed  for several years by his high school English teacher. He notes, “What I wouldn’t have given, as a teenager, to encounter a single book that explored the feelings of another gay teen. To have known that I wasn’t alone in how I felt, and to have read a story where Mr. Thomas’s conduct was called out for what it was: predatory behavior.”

Banned Together is also chock-full of resources, including suggested reading lists on topics such as Black History and “Anthologies Book Banners Don’t Want You to Read.” Book Banning tactics are not only explained, but also countered with “A Teen To-Do List: Fight Book Bans,” which suggests strategies such as attending school board meetings, voting, writing letters and making a Little Free Library featuring banned books. High school activists are profiled, such as Christopher Lau, who started a YouTube channel, “Unban Coolies,” to advocate for diverse books when one of his favorites was targeted—Coolies, a picture book about Chinese railroad workers in 1865. 

This is a must-have anthology for libraries, as well as an invaluable personal resource for high school readers. 

Banned Together is a must-have anthology for libraries, as well as an invaluable personal resource for high school readers.
Review by

Thirteen-year-old Abdi is on the run. Weeks ago, mysterious beasts appeared throughout Europe and attacked larger cities, viciously killing humans as they eventually spread into rural areas. After Abdi’s mother is killed in their home, he and his little sister, Alva, flee, hoping to make it to a nearby port city and catch a boat to the Shetland Islands, where their father has been traveling for work.

Young Abdi must grow up quickly as he struggles to keep himself and his sister safe in Beasts, a spare, thrilling novel by Ingvild Berjkeland, translated from the original Norwegian by Rosie Hedger. Like any successful apocalyptic survival story, a sense of urgency simmers beneath every line, relentlessly driving the characters—and the reader—forward. Trauma and terror force Abdi’s abrupt coming-of-age, as he is taken from the role of a typical older sibling to that of Alva’s sole caretaker and protector. The beasts are terrifying in their inexplicability and lack of motive, but the story also highlights a dark reality: When humans are threatened, some will resort to violent selfishness. Abdi and Alva have to not only avoid the beasts, but also assess every person they meet along their journey for potential threats. Of course, there are also those who show decency and kindness during the crisis.

Beasts will appeal to readers of survival classics such as Hatchet and Julie of the Wolves with its realistic illustrations of Abdi’s dogged problem-solving, but will also please those who enjoy stories with supernatural antagonists in pursuit of their prey, like The Walking Dead or The Last of Us. Rippling with constant tension, Beasts is an eerie, quick read for readers who can handle a bit of horror and unease.

Rippling with constant tension, Beasts is an eerie, quick read for teen readers who can handle a bit of horror and unease.
Behind the Book by

I’ve waited my entire career to publish a speculative fiction novel. My favorite genres are science fiction and fantasy. However, when I say this, most people think I’m talking about spaceships and dragons, which I don’t love. What I mean is that I love the idea of science fiction and fantasy based on my own culture and traditions. I was born in Haiti, and I know a lot about Haitian and Caribbean mythology and folklore. The Caribbean is not often associated with spaceships and dragons, so speculative fiction set there was always a hard sell. Until now.

I first read Nalo Hopkinson’s novels Brown Girl in the Ring and Midnight Robber in college. These books gave me permission to let my imagination soar in my writing. Hopkinson presented future worlds that featured Caribbean folklore and carnival characters. I wanted to do the same with Haitian history and mythology. Rarely is Haiti ever spoken about in future terms. Its magic is always relegated to the Hollywood version of “voodoo.”

Read our review of (S)Kin here.

The Caribbean storytelling tradition, including Haitian vodou, is lush with all sorts of shape-shifting creatures that are a blend of science and magic. The soucouyant has always been my favorite—a flying witch who sheds her skin and stores it in a mortar to fly around at night as a ball of flame feeding on souls. My first published short story, “Old Flesh Song,” was about Old Hag, a variation of the soucouyant. I workshopped this story with the late, great Octavia E. Butler, who called it “a good horror story.” Back then, I didn’t want to write horror. I already knew that when writing about Haitian magic, readers would immediately label it as horror. There’s no doubt that our stories can be dark, but they don’t always have to be horrific.

(S)Kin is my way of finding the magic in the horror and the beauty in the monstrous. Caribbean children are told to be afraid of our magical creatures. But come Carnival time, these frightful characters come alive in an array of costumes—the soucouyant, the ink-skinned jab jab, Midnight Robber, La Diablesse and many others. The costumes are meant to invoke fear, but they also symbolize a dark period in our history when monsters were born out of the horrors of slavery.

What if we take our magic with us wherever we go?

In writing about Caribbean folklore set in the real modern world, I wanted to make a statement about the continued existence and necessity of our magical beings. Inequality, poverty and exploitation persist, and magic can help us make sense of how we survive under these circumstances. What if we take our magic with us wherever we go? What would we need to do to preserve our magic?

This is why I love speculative fiction. I can ask big questions about small things. I want to explore what magic and folklore look like when we migrate to new places and have to make a living. My characters in (S)Kin are empowered by their magic, even when they don’t have power in the real world. I don’t want to erase the real horrors they must face in their human skin. I want to explore social justice issues as big as immigration and as seemingly small as colorism and beauty politics in my fantasy stories. (S)Kin does just that. It’s magic for the marginalized.

 

The award-winning author’s sixth novel for young adults, (S)Kin, explores contemporary issues through creatures from Caribbean mythology.

Seize the Fire

An idealistic young woman puts her trust in a cynical rake. You probably think you know where a story with this opening might go. But Seize the Fire, the 1989 historical romance from the incomparable Laura Kinsale, is a unique and memorable twist on the trope. Sheltered and somewhat silly Princess Olympia St. Leger hires British naval hero Sheridan Drake to help her reclaim the throne of her home country. But Sheridan, a smooth-talking charmer, knows firsthand how concepts like liberty can be warped into violence for political gain. He’d be annoyed by Olympia’s lofty principles and permanently rose-colored glasses—if they didn’t make it so easy for him to take advantage of her. Yet Kinsale doesn’t set one of her leads above the other, instead taking a more realistic tack of highlighting the pitfalls of both viewpoints and setting up two very flawed characters. Olympia’s naivete is as dangerous, if not more, than Sheridan’s cynicism, and as necessary to change. As they wend their way through an absolutely unpredictable sequence of dramatic adventures—including pirates, a sultan’s harem, a shipwreck and a revolution—these total opposites are hewn into shapes that can only fit with each other.

—Trisha Ping, Publisher

Illuminae

Illuminae by Aime Kaufman and Jay Kristoff, the first installment of the Illuminae Files trilogy, is a recounting of an intergalactic invasion on the planet Kerenza in 2575 through a series of files including news reports and video footage analysis. Kady Grant and Ezra Mason break up just hours before the invasion. In the ensuing chaos, they both end up on different refugee ships attempting to outrun the invaders. The remainder of this sci-fi second-chance romance follows tech genius Kady aboard Hypatia and Ezra on the Alexander dealing with its mostly uncooperative AI system, AIDAN (Artificial Intelligence Defense Analytics Network). Amid coordinating a cross-galaxy journey for the three refugee ships, battling a plague and a rogue AIDAN, Kady and Ezra realize how miniscule the issues in their relationship were compared to the fight for survival—and that they are the only person the other can count on. The audiobook version is immaculate due to its full cast and sound effects, making the story utterly immersive. 

—Jena Groshek, Sales Coordinator

Any Old Diamonds

Morally grey hero this, morally grey hero that. Get you a guy that more than one character describes as “Mephistophelean.” KJ Charles loves an “upstanding gentleman meets an absolute reprobate”-type pairing, but Jerry Crozier of Any Old Diamonds is the king of reprobates—the reprobate all the other reprobates cross the street to avoid. A proudly amoral, single-minded jewel thief, Jerry arrives like an absolute wrecking ball into Alec Pyne’s life when the latter hires him to steal a set of diamonds from his father, a powerful duke. Charles has always been interested in how morality functions within immoral systems, and this theme finds its most extreme (and entertaining) expression in Jerry. Because he lives in 1895 Britain, Jerry’s talents for blackmail, theft, fraud and general intimidation are able to find a truly righteous outlet—robbing cruel, selfish aristocrats blind. His world is characterized by extreme wealth inequality and infuriating hypocrisy, which means that plenty of people deserve Jerry Crozier to “happen to them,” as he puts it. Actually, upon further reflection, I think Jerry would get along just fine in 2024.

—Savanna Walker, Managing Editor

Whitney, My Love

Tropes are the best part of the romance genre: You know what to expect, but skilled authors like Judith McNaught still find ways to reinvent them and make them exciting. Whitney, My Love, my favorite romance novel of all time, does just that, with McNaught employing a bevy of tropes at once: Fake relationship, check. Forced proximity, check. Arranged marriage, check. Hidden identity, check. This book’s many twists and turns make it a delightful read. Whitney Stone was sent to live with her aunt and uncle in Paris after being deemed an unruly child. When she returns home to Regency-era England after a triumphant launch in Paris society, she unknowingly catches the eye of the arrogant and mysterious Duke of Claymore, Clayton. Hoping to impress her father and finally be deemed good enough to marry her childhood love, Whitney tries to be the picture of a demure, refined woman. Clayton, her handsome but bothersome neighbor, pledges to help her appeal to her childhood love, but Whitney soon discovers that not only has her father promised her in marriage to Clayton, but he’s also a duke. McNaught cleverly twists together beloved romance tropes to create a complex story around intriguing characters that is impossible to put down. The best part is that finding passion and love isn’t the end of Whitney and Clayton’s story: There is so much more to discover about these two in this 577-page tome.

—Meagan Vanderhill, Brand & Production Designer

Because as we all know, execution is everything.

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