“You’re smart, Rufus, everybody knows it. Remember when we were in that summer reading group thing, and you solved all those little mysteries or whatever? Maybe you can figure out what happened tonight!”
“April, I was eleven,” I splutter, appalled, “and they were just a bunch of dumb riddles with the answers already built in!”
—White Rabbit, by Caleb Roehrig
Rufus Holt is in the middle of an Extremely Fraught conversation with his ex-boyfriend when he ...
It was old. You could see that from the worn, dark cloth binding. The corners were frayed, and the fabric was so stained that I couldn’t even tell what color it must once have been. Gray? Brown? Blue? I lifted the book carefully out of its hiding place. It was heavier than I’d expected, and warmer. Alive, I thought, and the thought startled me.
—The Forgotten Book, by Mechthild Gläser
Mechthild Gläser’s The Forgotten Book sounded like a ...
The sassy best friend gets to have witty one-liners, a killer wardrobe, and usually a pretty great job. But it is the best friend’s goal to help our heroine fall in love; it is not the best friend’s job to fall in love herself.
Therefore, I’ve just realized that I’m probably doomed at love. Because I’m pretty sure I’m not the heroine. I don’t even think I’m in my own story.
—The Summer of Jordi Perez (And the Best ...
It is finally April, and so, snow on the ground or not, my winter coat and boots have been packed away for the season and I shall make do with lots of layers until it is actually warm out. (Apologies and sympathy to friends in the New York area today—Twitter tells me that it’s snowing?) But enough about that.
Let’s look at some of the books that I’ll be reading—preferably outside in the sun—over the course of the next month ...
“Only one of the five Pandava brothers could light the lamp. Do you know where he went, human girl?”
Aru lifted her chin. “I lit the lamp.”
The bird stared. And then stared some more.
“Well, then, we might as well let the world end.”
—Aru Shah and the End of Time, by Roshani Chokshi
It would be an oversimplification to say that twelve-year-old Aru Shah is a liar.
That said, it was lying ...
At first, writing feels like falling
where there is nothing to hold on to
to keep from slipping off the edge of the world.
But then the dark presence of another begins to whisper
from the corners of my mind,
and his shadow grows and touches my own.
Together, we take one step toward finding a word,
and then another,
until the struggle drops away
and the only thing that is left ...
But he’s strong, and powerful, and from most perspectives, he’s on the winning side. She has to ask herself—and women have asked themselves this question for centuries—would she rather be suffocated slowly for the rest of her life, or die quickly trying to accomplish something?
(What would you choose, love?)
There will be no more asking questions once a sword is in her hand.
—Blood Water Paint, by Joy McCullough
Blood Water Paint is based on ...
Let’s do this.
The Poet X, by Elizabeth Acevedo
IT’S HERE, IT’S HERE, IT’S FINALLY HERE! It’s only March, but I can promise you that this book is going to be on a whole lot of Best Of lists at the end of the year. It is brilliant, beautiful, and I can’t wait for you all to read it and fall in love, too. See my February 19 column for more detailed gushing.
Starred review at Kirkus and pretty much ...