THE CONFUSION OF LAUREL GRAHAM

Field journal notes from the eponymous 17-year-old—from April 29 through Sept. 5—include a beloved, critically injured grandmother; a man-obsessed mother; a budding same-sex romance; and the fight to preserve a nature reserve in Shunksville, Pennsylvania.

From the title onward, the text is full of references to birds. (The collective noun for warblers is a “confusion.”) Laurel, like her grandmother, is an avid bird-watcher, environmental activist, and photographer. When Gran—Laurel’s “constant in this world”—is hit by a vehicle while in foolhardy pursuit of a bird, Laurel erroneously blames herself. She compartmentalizes her guilt remarkably well, adding hospital visits with her comatose grandmother to her internship responsibilities at Birdscout Nature Center: leading tours, reading to youngsters, cleaning, and policing the bratty Birdie Bros. The latter share Laurel’s goal of winning a photographic prize from Fauna magazine. After cleared-up misunderstandings, Laurel’s relationship with hot co-worker Risa heats up simultaneously with local politics. Sneaky politicians and developers are working on a deal to build a school on protected land. Laurel and Risa are joined by other nature lovers—including feisty little Karen and her two mothers—as they try to win time for proper consideration of the project. Meanwhile, is Gran’s spirit inhabiting an unusual, elusive bird? The many subplots intertwine gracefully through Laurel’s strong, humor-inflected voice and have realistic resolutions. The book follows a white default.

Birdbrained, in a good way.