All Reviews

Natalia Shaloshvili’s Pavlo Gets the Grumps is the sweetly funny story of an eventful day in the life of a grumpy kitten and the loved ones who attempt to jolly him out of his bad mood. Will their efforts be successful?

First, while she and cranky little Pavlo eat their breakfast, Mama suggests a trip to the park. But a downcast Pavlo says no: “The swings are too swingy, the sandbox is too sandy, and . . . the slide is too SLIDEY!”

Well, that’s hard to argue with, so Mama moves on: How about swimming? “You love making big splashes!” But even as Pablo envisions himself and Mama floating alongside a friendly frog, he demurs, noting, “The water is too wet and . . . the fishies will nibble my toes!” 

When even a trip to the movies doesn’t appeal (that’ll involve sitting, and Pavlo’s “bottom is very wriggly today!”), Mama decides they’re off to the playground. “The best thing to do with the grumps,” she explains with fake-it-’til-you-make-it gusto, “is to go out anyway.”

And thank goodness they do, because not only does Pavlo’s friend Mila greet him with a sympathetic hug, she convinces him to join her and Mama on the slide, which this time is cause for giggling, not grouchiness. Even better, they have ice cream without anyone saying the ice cream is too ice creamy! Happiness is achieved, grumpiness dissipated, and day salvaged in a charming, amusing story that any reader who’s ever been cranky will relate to—especially if they’ve ever dramatically laid tummy-down on the couch while feeling irritable in a way they can’t quite explain.

Shaloshvili’s outstanding art, done in acrylics and watercolor pencil, is rife with appealing texture, spot-on body language and humorous details galore (especially endearing: a book-reading, bicycle-riding mouse). Her visual humor is finely tuned and dovetails nicely with her comforting, uplifting message to readers who get the grumps: It’s okay to feel grouchy sometimes, but don’t forget about the restorative power of play, hugs, friends and joy—not to mention ice cream.

Natalia Shaloshvili’s finely tuned visual humor in Pavlo Gets the Grumps dovetails nicely with her comforting, uplifting message to any reader who’s ever been a bit cranky (aka all of us).

The wife-and-wife team of Mikaella Clements and Onjuli Datta (The View Was Exhausting) are back with Feast While You Can, a queer horror-romance about a monster that feasts on the “passion, heartbreak and mess” of life. 

Angelina Sicco has lived in the small European mountain town of Cadenze for her entire life. The large Sicco family is entrenched in the conservative community, and Angelina is well-liked despite being a lesbian. But this was not the case for Jagvi, Angelina’s brother’s ex-girlfriend. After Jagvi broke up with him and came out as a lesbian, she moved away. In the decade since, each time Jagvi returns to Cadenze, she proves to be “the chaos element in Angelina’s equilibrium.” That is, until Angelina has a terrifying and visceral encounter with a monster, and realizes that Jagvi is the only thing that can hold it at bay. 

In Feast While You Can, Clements and Datta are firmly in the realm of psychological horror: A serial killer hiding in a closet isn’t the scariest thing in the room; rather, the underlying trauma of homophobia and racism feeds the horror and the menace. In the small community of Cadenze, the familiarity of family, friends and neighbors is both comforting and suffocating. This robust cast of secondary characters adds to the weighty conflicts between responsibility, family and self-preservation that Clements and Datta investigate, but at times the extended family drama is a distraction from the forward momentum. 

There are so many layers of horror, trauma and sexy trysts to unpack here, with the monster functioning as both a real entity and a manifestation of the taboo desire Angelina feels for Jagvi. It’s like an unseen devil on her shoulder, willing her to act out her most secret desires so it can live vicariously through her until there’s nothing left of her to give.

You might want to read this one with the lights on, lest you look over your shoulder and realize the monster’s in the room with you.

A terrifying monster is both a real entity and a manifestation of taboo desires in Mikaella Clements and Onjuli Datta’s Feast While You Can.
Review by

Dania is in prison for a murder she did not commit. She spends every day plotting her escape and listing off the people responsible for her imprisonment: Vahid, the cruel emperor; Darbaran, the loathsome head of the palace guards; and Mazin, Vahid’s ward and Dania’s ex-lover. After a failed attempt to break out, Dania is surprised when Noor, a fellow prisoner, tunnels into her cell. When Noor reveals that she has a plan to escape, as well as a way to access hidden djinn magic, Dania sees a clear way to get her revenge.

A fantasy-fuelled retelling of The Count of Monte Cristo, For She Is Wrath takes the tension and mystery of Alexandre Dumas’ classic novel and transfers it to a lush, exuberant, Pakistan-inspired setting. Emily Varga’s narrative drops readers straight into the action from the very beginning: A prison escape, dark magic power and secret identities set up heart-pounding action that remains present throughout the entire tale.

But For She Is Wrath is not just about getting revenge. It’s also about how shaky the path to it can be. Dania’s growing desire for retribution is a force that not only drives her forward, but also compels her to look backward. As they work together to achieve revenge, Dania and Noor must come to terms with the price of vengeance—and decide whether that price is worth it. The book is not shy about the impact of Dania and Noor’s actions, asking them to sit with the repercussions of their schemes. Is violence ever warranted? Is it all right to harm others in the pursuit of justice?

This is a fresh story with bold heroines and a unique, vibrant setting. For She Is Wrath has the intrigue of The Count of Monte Cristo, but is ultimately sweeter, with wholesome characters and nuanced themes about justice, healing, and forgiveness. Readers, especially fans of Dumas, are sure to appreciate Varga’s multilayered twists and turns as Dania and Noor uncover world-altering truths about their imprisonments, their backgrounds and the empire in which they live, and learn what it is they truly stand for.

A fantasy-fuelled retelling of the Count of Monte Cristo, For She Is Wrath takes the tension and mystery of Alexandre Dumas’ classic novel and transfers it to a lush, exuberant, Pakistan-inspired setting.

New Yorker Emma is 26 years old and has been sober for a year. With her sponsor’s restrictions on dating lifted, she might be ready to meet someone, and Ben, the sweet guy in her IT department, seems too good to be true. Though Emma believes her life is definitely better now, some things remain unchanged, like the way she hides her personality at work, and her mother’s relentless matchmaking. Emma is also hesitant to open up to those in her life about her sobriety, and continues to wrestle with lingering guilt and shame. This makes her workplace even harder to navigate leading up to the annual holiday party, especially because Emma’s been tapped for the planning team—and so has Ben. 

Emma’s quietly resilient and mostly optimistic response to her internal struggles make her a relatable and likable character. Author Ava Robinson astutely captures Emma’s growing awareness of how her alcoholism has affected not only her life but also her relationships with those around her, particularly in her interactions with her meddlesome mother and somewhat distant father, both of whom have been waiting to disclose their own news. 

Nuanced, hopeful and insightful, Robinson’s debut may especially resonate with readers who enjoy titles like Iona Iverson’s Rules for Commuting by Clare Pooley or Big Girl, Small Town by Michelle Gallen. Definitely Better Now strikes a delicate balance between humor and gravity. The dynamics of Emma’s support group, with its rules, unspoken signals and understanding, feel authentic. Equally credible and effective is Emma’s adjustment to her newfound clarity, and how she navigates returning to the world of romance, amid gossip and miscommunication. Definitely Better Now is an endearing portrayal of a young woman redefining herself. 

Nuanced, hopeful and insightful, Ava Robinson’s Definitely Better Now is an endearing portrayal of a young woman redefining herself after one year of sobriety.
Review by

When Abby Lai was young, she wished for a sibling to play with. Her parents granted her wish . . . four times over. Now the oldest of five, 12-year-old Abby tries to spend as much time outside her house as possible. After all, as she says in the epigraph of Chickenpox, “Younger siblings are like viruses. They’re tiny, and they can make you sick.” 

But then Abby is the one to accidentally bring a virus into her home, by having one of her best friends come over to play and unknowingly infect the household with chickenpox. Soon enough, all five siblings have caught it. The only thing that makes Abby’s skin crawl more than her inevitable rash is the thought of being in quarantine with her siblings for the next 10 days. 

Chickenpox is award-winning author and illustrator Remy Lai’s first semi-autobiographical work, following several acclaimed graphic novels such as Pawcasso and Ghost Book. Lai made the unique decision to write from her big sister’s point of view, acknowledging in an author’s note, “I could only write this book as an adult because it took me growing up to understand, empathize, and appreciate the things my sisters did and felt.” Her portrayal of her sister as a funny, anxious, sweet and headstrong main character carries a love for Abby that readers are sure to catch, leaving them hoping that Lai will tell more stories about her siblings.

Lai’s illustrations shine as always, with many hilarious metaphors drawn in, and vibrant backgrounds and expressive characters to emphasize the intense emotions that come with being a kid approaching adolescence. Lai clues present-day young people in to what life was like in Indonesia in 1994 through historically accurate details accompanied by occasional parenthetical additions that provide crucial information, such as how a home’s telephones all run on the same line.

This graphic novel is the perfect blend of the friend drama of The Tryout by Christina Soontornvat and the family drama in Twins by Varian Johnson. Laughter about the Lai siblings’ antics will be as contagious as chickenpox was in the ’90s! 

 

Laughter about the Lai siblings' antics in Remy Lai’s semi-autobiographical novel Chickenpox will be as contagious as chickenpox was in the '90s.

Former competitive skier Wylie Potts is trying to find a new identity. Her mother and coach, World Cup and Olympic medalist skier Claudine Potts, put so much pressure on Wylie that she began to experience panic attacks and, eventually, walked away from the sport. She’s found a career she loves at an art museum and a boyfriend with athletic interests of his own, Dan.

Wylie and Dan have been training for the BodyFittest Duo competition in Berlin. She sees it as a chance at redemption after quitting skiing, a decision that fractured her relationship with her mom. But when an injury sidelines Dan from the two-person competition, Wylie turns to her mother in desperation.

As it happens, Claudine, whose bad knee ended her own ski career, is in Switzerland, trying to find closure for a secret shame of her own that she can’t allow Wylie to uncover. Wylie joins her on the way to the competition, and the two women are faced with their own insecurities, bad behavior and opportunities for redemption. Together, perhaps they can win and reclaim both Wylie’s pride and their relationship.

In Bluebird Day, journalist and author Megan Tady (Super Bloom) takes readers on an alternately hilarious and touching romp through Zermatt, Switzerland. Switching between Wylie’s and Claudine’s perspectives, Tady delves deeply into both their psyches, and with the patience of a gifted therapist, she uncovers the wounds that fractured their relationship. Their interactions are sometimes painful to read—just as a mother-daughter argument can be difficult to witness. But Tady knows when to pull back. She offers just enough pain for readers to understand the characters’ plight.

Throughout the Potts women’s adventure, Tady tosses in references to Swiss icons and ski history, introduces an entertaining supporting cast—a “motley crew that’s sworn off extravagance in the heart of a luxurious town”—and includes conversation about climate change. Bluebird Day is the ideal read for anyone looking for a fast-paced, lighthearted novel you could enjoy equally beside a crackling fire or at the beach. Tady delivers a cozy tale with layers as numerous as midseason snowpack.

In Bluebird Day, Megan Tady delivers a cozy tale with layers as numerous as midseason snowpack, delving into the psyches of mother and daughter competitive skiers Claudine and Wylie.
Review by

Sara always had an outsize impact on her best friend, Magda. Even after her death, Sara still manages to coerce Magda into going on a road trip. With Magda at the wheel and Sara’s ashes on the front seat, Anna Montague’s moving and surprisingly humorous debut, How Does That Make You Feel, Magda Eklund? (9 hours), depicts Magda’s struggle with the insanity of grieving.

Tony and Emmy Award-winning actor Cynthia Nixon’s performance sensitively juxtaposes Magda’s sorrowful introspection with the vitality of the people in her life and the vibrancy of her memories of Sara. Nixon also brings out the dark humor that frequently accompanies mourning. The result is a convincing portrayal of not only the sheer hell of grief, but also its potential for leading to reconciliation with the past and hope for the future.

Read our review of the print version of How Does That Make You Feel, Magda Eklund?

Read by Cynthia Nixon, Anna Montague’s moving and surprisingly humorous debut, How Does That Make You Feel, Magda Eklund? shows grief’s potential to lead to reconciliation and hope.
Review by

Lifeform (5 hours) is a collection of comedic and heartfelt personal essays from acclaimed actress and comedian Jenny Slate. These essays encompass the chaos and wonder of living during the COVID-19 pandemic, focusing in particular on Slate’s experiences with romance and new parenthood. She writes with immense imagination, opening doors to rooms filled with raccoon rumor mills, extended therapy dialogues and codependent dishwashers. At the same time, Lifeform explores subjects like pregnancy, body image, social anxiety and depression with authenticity and gratitude.

The narration, done primarily by Slate herself with appearances from George Saunders, Vanessa Bayer and Will Forte, is a theatrical delight. Slate’s droll tone is perfectly paired with her roundabout style of humor, while simultaneously capturing her writing’s air of innocence. This audiobook is ideal for listeners who prefer shorter-form audio experiences like podcasts. The essays build on one another but also stand alone, meaning you can easily set Lifeform aside and pick it back up when it’s convenient for you. Or, feel free to finish it in one sitting: Slate’s writing (and reading) is insightful, witty and definitely binge worthy.

Read our starred review of the print version of Lifeform.

Comedian Jenny Slate’s Lifeform is insightful, witty and definitely binge worthy. She writes, and reads, these essays with immense imagination.

Artist and poet Douglas Florian has created numerous award-winning picture books over the years, including Dinothesaurus and Insectlopedia. A book by Florian is often destined to become part of family lore, lovingly passed down from child to child to grandchild. And that’s certainly true of his newest title, Windsongs: Poems about Weather

Each poem in this appealing collection appears in white lettering on a bright page, opposite illustrations rendered with gouache paint, colored pencils and rubber stamps on primed paper bags, giving the volume a cheerful, homespun feel. Weather, of course, fascinates everyone, and after reading this book, kids and parents alike might find themselves creating their own poems, inspired by Florian’s poetry about the dew, drought, thunder and frost, among other topics. 

Some of the poems here are silly, others playful or evocative. A poem entitled “Fog” begins: “The fog is just a cloud that’s lost. / A cloud that’s gone astray. / It woke up in a hazy daze / and slowly lost its way.” The collection concludes with a poem about climate change, including a reminder that “Mars is too cold, and Venus too hot. / Our blue planet Earth is all that we’ve got.” Back matter includes a glossary and weather websites for kids. Windsongs is a gift for the whole family!

After reading Windsongs, kids and parents alike might find themselves creating their own poems, inspired by Douglas Florian’s poetry about the dew, drought, thunder and frost.
Review by

It’s curiously refreshing to find a good book whose main character you despise. Such is the case with Ella Baxter’s Woo Woo. It’s evidence of Baxter’s talent that you stick with her self-obsessed and often mean-spirited protagonist, Sabine Rossi. At first, you just want Sabine to get her comeuppance. By the end of the book, less so.

Sabine is an artist, specifically a conceptual artist. The story follows her in the days before the opening of her gallery show, titled “Fuck You, Help Me.” It features puppets big enough for her to wear. She stages happenings with these objects that she photographs and livestreams for fans with social media handles like Pignut666 and KibbleJoy. People in her inner circle, from the gallery owner to her put-upon husband, Constantine, are not merely supportive but worshipful. But Sabine’s dramatics are nonsensical. Woo-woo just about describes her.

Consider that Sabine is mentored by the ghost of body artist Carolee Schneemann. Even more troubling, she thinks she’s being stalked by a personage she calls the Rembrandt Man because he reminds her of a portrait by the great Dutch master. A crafty writer, Baxter makes you wonder whether this man is real or not; though this reader concluded that he’s not, another reader may disagree. Whether he’s a genuine threat or another figment of her psychosis, Sabine nearly destroys her house fighting him off in one harrowing scene. She livestreams this too.

Woo Woo deftly sends up a subtype of conceptual art that is, as one critic writes of Sabine’s work, “contrived, boring, and egotistical.” It’s a world where people say things like “The tapestries of her internal and external diaspora are more evocative than your whale cakes,” with a straight face. One feels compassion for Sabine because she and her loved ones can’t see how ridiculous she is even as the rest of the world does. It matters that each chapter is headed with a quote or title of a work from artists as varied as Ovid, Chekhov, Cindy Sherman and Lana Del Ray. Art, even bad art, is essential. And so the Sabine Rossis of the world persist.

Woo Woo tells the story of self-obsessed conceptual artist Sabine Rossi’s brush with a stalker, while deftly sending up that subtype of conceptual art that is, as one critic writes of Sabine’s work, “contrived, boring, and egotistical.”

In London, Nate Macabuag designs and builds prosthetics for people with limb differences. “To be able to give someone something that they didn’t have access to before—it’s a good feeling,” he says. At Chicago’s Field Museum, Lauren Nassef helps care for specimens used in scientific research. And in the Bronx, shopkeepers Dan Treiber and Reina Mia Brill spend their days surrounded by toys. “We sell things that bring people joy,” Dan says. “We sell happiness!” 

Those are just a few of the 28 professions depicted in Shaina Feinberg and Julia Rothman’s fascinating and inspiring Work: Interviews with People Doing Jobs They Love

The duo, who write and illustrate the New York Times’ popular Scratch column (about “money—and the people who deal with it”), previously teamed up for How We Got By, a collection of 111 personal accounts about getting through hardships. This time, they wanted to create a book for kids in the vein of their newspaper column. 

For Work, Feinberg and Rothman interviewed people around the world about their skills, motivations, daily tasks and favorite aspects of their careers. The answers are varied and intriguing, presented in brief biographies that also include discussion prompts such as “If you could invent anything, what would it be?” Rothman’s art is detailed and vibrant, ranging from portraits of people at their jobs, to illustrations of a wildland firefighter’s helicopter and a cobbler’s custom shoes.

Those looking for answers to “What do you want to be when you grow up?” will delight in learning how youthful propensities might translate into grown-up jobs: For example, an artist who climbed trees as a child now paints murals on very tall buildings. They’ll also gain insight into Rothman’s and Feinberg’s own work via the final entries in this engaging, illuminating collection, as well as the “How We Made This Book” section that follows. 

Another nice touch: The duo note that many illustrations were based on photos, and include credits for each one, ensuring that, from start to finish, their book explores, celebrates and values work and the people who undertake it. Work is a helpful resource and entertaining read that’s sure to broaden horizons and inspire exploration.

 

From start to finish, Shaina Feinberg and Julia Rothman’s book explores, celebrates and values work and the people who undertake it. Work is a helpful resource and entertaining read that’s sure to broaden horizons and inspire exploration.
Review by

When Devin Green wakes in the middle of the night to two men abducting her from her bedroom, she’s prepared for a fight. However,there’s no escaping the henchmen of the wilderness therapy program her foster family is forcing her to attend. Along with four other teens, she’s dropped off in middle-of-nowhere Idaho, where two camp counselors will march them through the woods for 50 days so the teens can better themselves. It’s a strange place, where the air is “quiet in a way she’s never felt, uninterrupted by the puttering of old engines and the distant crash of machinery.”

But more aggravating than the hiking or the quiet or the counselors is Sheridan, a lavender-haired mean girl who mocks the other kids and slows the whole group down. But Sheridan, at least, is human: When their counselors go missing, Devin starts seeing visions of creatures with strange faces. The five teens will need to work together if they’re going to survive what horrors lurk in the woods and emerge with their identities still their own.

Inspired by real horrific wilderness programs, Where Echoes Die author Courtney Gould’s What the Woods Took grapples with horrors inflicted by both people and literal monsters. 

Devin’s strength and determination to “reap the good she suffered for” is certain to enchant. But if Devin isn’t a reader’s favorite character, they will be sure to find another: All five teenagers are complicated and real, and Gould’s excellent dialogue and lifelike banter make the whole group engrossing. 

Those who love their horror with a hint of romance will be rewarded: Devin and Sheridan’s slow-burn, enemies-to-lovers romance is messy yet truthful, giving growth and a strong human connection even as monsters descend. When the two finally get on the same page, readers might even cheer.

Atmospheric with genuine scares, What the Woods Took examines how teenagers can go through the worst and still choose to trust, over and over again. This excellent addition to the roster of queer YA horror will please fans of Rory Power and Mindy McGinnis.

An atmospheric thriller with genuine scares, What the Woods Took examines how teenagers can go through the worst and still choose to trust, over and over again.
Review by

This reviewer has to wonder why an author as brilliant as Niall Williams, whose latest book is the resplendent, suspenseful Time of the Child, isn’t at the top of every reader’s mind. Few contemporary novelists create worlds and characters so amazingly alive and specific. Williams knows every nook and cranny of his Irish town Faha, from its weather, which is so damp that nothing ever dries out completely, to its farms and pubs and how it’s slowly losing ground to the estuary. His characters, even those we see only briefly, are unforgettable. Though the town is full of people, you’ll never mix up one with another. Even Faha’s animal citizens are memorable: Consider Harry, a dog who likes to nap in the middle of the street, making cars drive around him.

Time of the Child is a sequel to Williams’ other masterpiece, This Is Happiness, and is set around Christmas in 1962. Noel Crowe, the protagonist of that book, has moved to America, and our focus is now on the town doctor, Jack Troy, and his daughter Ronnie, who lives with him. In Faha, the doctor is a revered, stoic and necessary presence. He might as well be a granite plinth with a mustache. But within this pillar of rectitude, so many passions roil.

For Jack, like Faha itself, is a dour-seeming being who is full of love. He loves his patients in his brisk and discerning way. He pines for a lost romance, even as he pushes 70. And he loves his daughters, especially Ronnie, whose unmarried state he feels responsible for. When a local boy finds a baby in a churchyard and brings her to the doctor for care, the floodgates in Jack burst. Both he and Ronnie fall in love with the child, and as the unwed Ronnie can’t adopt her, he hatches a scheme so harebrained that it warms your heart even as you think, “Are you serious?” This is where the novel’s suspense comes in, as well as Williams’ genius for making you laugh out loud while he breaks your heart. Anyone who cherishes great writing should want more and more from Williams.

Niall Williams demonstrates his genius for making you laugh out loud while breaking your heart at the same time in Time of the Child, his follow-up to This Is Happiness.

Sign Up

Stay on top of new releases: Sign up for our newsletter to receive reading recommendations in your favorite genres.

Trending Reviews