Cole pitches some entertaining notions but proves weak on follow-through.
Four young people test a new, high-tech amusement park ride that tests them in turn.
In openly admitted homage to Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Cole brings together a quartet of (supposed) contest winners to take the titular machine on an inaugural ride. Outfitting them in special body suits (“We’re going to look like Oompa-Loompas”), he subjects them to a barrage of hazards ranging from a stampede of miniature moose to a cleaver-wielding actor specializing in psychopathic murderers and murderous robots. But although it’s all the product of an advanced form of virtual reality that is supposed to incorporate each player’s distinctive fears, most of the terrors encountered (aside from the moose) are generic horror-show fare. The four preteens—two white, one “dark-skinned,” one “olive”—make up a like muddle: Cameron is a motor-mouthed brainiac (with a fetching habit of unconsciously stripping to his underwear when deep in thought), Nika and Trevor are afflicted with medical conditions that leave them, respectively, incapable of feeling any physical pain or fear, and in an odd bit of genre miscasting, Devin is clairvoyant. Moreover, the author himself seems unsure where the VR ends and the other sort resumes; the robots, for instance, seem to exist in both.
Cole pitches some entertaining notions but proves weak on follow-through. (Science fantasy. 11-13)Pub Date: Aug. 8, 2017
ISBN: 978-0-399-55282-3
Page Count: 320
Publisher: Delacorte
Review Posted Online: April 16, 2017
Kirkus Reviews Issue: May 1, 2017
BOOK REVIEW
BOOK REVIEW
BOOK REVIEW
Like its bestselling progenitors, a nonstop spinoff afroth with high tech, spectacular magic, and silly business.
With their big brother Artemis off to Mars, 11-year-old twins Myles and Beckett are swept up in a brangle with murderous humans and even more dangerous magical creatures.
Unsurprisingly, the fraternal Irish twins ultimately prove equal to the challenge—albeit with help from, Colfer as omniscient narrator admits early on, a “hugely improbable finale.” Following the coincidental arrival on their island estate of two denizens of the subterranean fairy realm in the persons of a tiny but fearsome troll and a “hybrid” pixie-elf, or “pixel,” police trainee, the youngest Fowls immediately find themselves in the sights of both Lord Teddy Bleedham-Drye, a ruthless aristocrat out to bag said troll for its immorality-conferring venom, and Sister Jeronima Gonzalez-Ramos de Zárate, black-ops “nunterrogation” and knife specialist for ACRONYM, an intergovernmental fairy-monitoring organization. Amid the ensuing whirl of captures, escapes, trickery, treachery, and gunfire (none of which proves fatal…or at least not permanently), the twins leverage their complementary differences to foil and exasperate both foes: Myles being an Artemis mini-me who has dressed in black suits since infancy and loves coming up with and then “Fowlsplaining” his genius-level schemes; and Beckett, ever eager to plunge into reckless action and nearly nonverbal in English but with an extraordinary gift for nonhuman tongues. In the end they emerge triumphant, though threatened with mind wipe if they ever interfere in fairy affairs again. Yeah, right. Human characters seem to be default white; “hybrid” is used to describe nonhuman characters of mixed heritage.
Like its bestselling progenitors, a nonstop spinoff afroth with high tech, spectacular magic, and silly business. (Fantasy. 11-13)Pub Date: Nov. 5, 2019
ISBN: 978-1-368-04375-5
Page Count: 368
Publisher: Disney-Hyperion
Review Posted Online: July 13, 2019
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Aug. 1, 2019
BOOK REVIEW
BOOK REVIEW
BOOK REVIEW
Incredibly reassuring and helpful for readers struggling in an ableist world.
Gwendolyn’s IEP says there’s nothing wrong with her except the 54 ways people believe she chooses to be bad.
Gwendolyn knows she shouldn’t have opened the school assessment about her behavior, but because she did, she knows there’s nothing actually wrong with her. She’s just a lazy, socially inept, defiant, whiny 11-year-old girl—not to mention the other 50 items on the report that she writes down and studies. Gwendolyn can’t ever remember her pencil, forgets her homework, lashes out violently, and she’s always, always in trouble. She feels balanced when she’s with horses, but she’s lost horse privileges ever since she had a scary, unexpected tantrum following the advice of a terrible therapist. At least she’s got Tyler, the half brother she only recently learned about. Tyler’s got a diagnosis of ADHD but still sometimes acts out despite treatment. But how come the teachers never call Tyler’s mom when he’s bad? Or the moms of any of the misbehaving boys, for that matter? Why are teachers so unhelpful and sarcastic? Gwendolyn’s mother finally gets her a good therapist, and as Dr. Nessa walks them through diagnosis, bad medication reactions, adaptation, and fighting ableism, their pain and epiphanies are gut-wrenchingly genuine. Most characters read as White; Dr. Nessa is cued as Black.
Incredibly reassuring and helpful for readers struggling in an ableist world. (Fiction. 11-13)Pub Date: Oct. 19, 2021
ISBN: 978-0-06-299663-3
Page Count: 336
Publisher: Quill Tree Books/HarperCollins
Review Posted Online: Aug. 17, 2021
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Sept. 1, 2021
BOOK REVIEW
BOOK REVIEW
BOOK REVIEW
© Copyright 2025 Kirkus Media LLC. All Rights Reserved.
Follow
Popular in this Genre
We can’t wait for you to join Kirkus!
It’s free and takes less than 10 seconds!
Already have an account? Log in.
OR
Sign in with GoogleTrouble signing in? Retrieve credentials.
Welcome Back!
OR
Sign in with GoogleTrouble signing in? Retrieve credentials.
