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Children's & YAMiddle GradeChildren's

Black Star

Review by Emily Koch

Twelve-year-old Charley Cuffey loves a few things: her Nana Kofi and his stories; correcting the grammar of her best friend, Cool Willie Green; and above all else, baseball. She has been obsessed since her daddy took her to see a Negro Leagues game, and is determined to be the first woman to be a professional baseball player—a big goal for anyone, but even more so for a Black girl living through segregation. When she challenges a bully to a game that takes them into the white part of town, she faces consequences that extend beyond baseball.

Newbery Medalist Kwame Alexander’s Black Star is the gripping second book of what is sure to be an impactful trilogy. The bestselling first installment, The Door of No Return, centered on Kofi, a tween living in Ghana during the 1860s, who loves swimming and his own nana’s stories. His story ended with him facing an unknown fate. This sequel jumps forward to segregated Virginia in the 1920s, where Kofi is a storytelling nana himself, slowly revealing the gaps of his life as he shares them with his granddaughter, Charley.

Alexander has found a magic formula in his verse novels featuring protagonists whose lives revolve around a sport: Their love of the game keeps the plot moving forward and offers a plethora of potential for metaphor. Charley is a vibrant and creative narrator, full of important questions for her Nana, and excellent hyperbole like “it’s so quiet / I can hear the moon.” Alexander uses every aspect of his poems to his advantage. For example, a striking chapter features poems whose titles all begin with “Fifth Sunday,” showing just how significant this big game day is to Charley.

As in The Door of No Return, a significant theme throughout Black Star is the power of storytelling. In an author’s note, Alexander explains his dedication to portraying Black history accurately. He highlights real historical events through actual poetry and information about public figures from that time, but maintains focus on the stories “about the regular families that lived, laughed, loved, danced, worked, failed, hoped, cried, and died just like everybody else.”

Readers continuing the series, as well as those starting with Black Star, will be gifted with a reading experience that is equal parts difficult and beautiful. All will be called to remember Nana Kofi’s wisdom, that “when we water our words, they grow our minds.”

 

Readers continuing Kwame Alexander’s Door of No Return trilogy, as well as those starting with Black Star, will be gifted with a reading experience that is equal parts difficult and beautiful.
NonfictionLifestylesCookbooks

Bodega Bakes

Review by Laura Hutson Hunter

Pastry chef and social activist Paola Velez describes herself as a nerd from the Bronx who truly felt seen for the first time while watching Steve Urkel on Family Matters. In a heartfelt introduction that practically begs for a longer memoir, she calls her debut cookbook, Bodega Bakes: Recipes for Sweets and Treats Inspired by My Corner Store, “a mix of my classical training and love of Americana filtered through the Bronx and the islands of the Caribbean.” Velez promises that you can find most of the ingredients for her recipes inside a bodega, a place she defines as “a densely inhabited mini market where Jarritos, Cap’n Crunch, shampoo, gossip, and chopped cheeses peacefully coexist.” The book’s first section is dedicated to cookies, most importantly, her popular Thick’ems. The OG Chocolate Chip Thick’em, which Velez once sold to raise money so that disadvantaged Brooklyn girls could buy period products, uses few ingredients to great effect. (“Makes 8 Thiiiiiick cookies,” she writes.) The OGs are followed by recipes for Triple Chocolate Noir Thick’ems, Tres Leches Thick’ems and more. Velez’s casual writing is as fun to read as a cookbook gets. For example, when describing the blending process for the Matcha Thick’ems, Velez instructs readers to “pulse the mixer on and off, almost like you’re trying to jump-start a car.” Bodega Bakes also features 13(!) ways to make flan, a beginner’s guide to Dominican cakes, freezer desserts (sweet plantain gelato, anyone?) and plenty more morsels that will demand second helpings. 

 

In the personable Bodega Bakes, pastry chef Paola Velez presents just that: sweets that can be made solely from the ingredients found at a corner store.
FictionGraphic Novels & ComicsDebut Fiction

Babe in the Woods

Review by Cat Acree

Julie Heffernan is predominantly known as a self-portraitist. Her astounding large-scale oil paintings are baroque, surrealist, highly staged and detailed, and often feature a woman—herself, bare-breasted, surrounded by a riot of flora and fauna. She frequently toys with traditional representations of women in art, depicting herself in big headpieces and bigger skirts, and using titles like “Self-Portrait as Gorgeous Tumor” and “Self-Portrait as Tree House.”

Many of Heffernan’s self-portraits are reproduced in Babe in the Woods: Or, the Art of Getting Lost, her first graphic novel and a mesmeric work of autofiction. It is a loose retelling of how she became an artist, leaving a Catholic home where art didn’t exist and meeting people who helped her to discover the world of art history and her own fierce opinion and creative voice. A version of Heffernan recounts these events—often in the form of a one-sided conversation with her mother—while hiking deeper into the Appalachian Mountains with her infant child. We know from the outset that she’s getting herself lost, and as her mind whirls through her memories, examining traumas and questioning everything with a furious intensity, it is clear that she is making a dangerous, terrible choice. She is being a bad mother, and she says so.

Throughout Heffernan’s labyrinthine walk in the woods, we are treated to “revelations,” each centered on a work of classic art. Heffernan is a Professor of Fine Arts at Montclair State University, and here she delivers brief lessons on famous paintings such as “Rape of the Daughters of Leucippus” by Peter Paul Rubens and Jan Wildens, which is accompanied by Heffernan’s revelation, “DON’T GIVE UP no matter WHAT!” as she shows how the painting uses two women’s naked bodies to create the shape of a pinwheel, whirling like blades in the center of the scene. The women are about to be raped, but they still have “ACTION! MOTION!! AGENCY!!!”

Much of the illustration for the novel was done in Microsoft Paint, which gives the book a sketchy, glitchy quality, completely in opposition to her oil paintings. Many scenes, as well as some reproductions of her self-portraits, are pixelated, the color appearing to malfunction and separate. Details become difficult to see, and the viewer is forced into the same frustrating brain-fuzziness as Heffernan’s character. 

The varying styles, the collapsing of clarity, the tremendous rage and continual turning-over of past traumas—all these elements combine in Babe in the Woods to illuminate the mysteries of the creative process. It is a staggering work of graphic literature, strange and enraged, carnal and emotional, encompassing the terrific force that keeps an artist moving forward. Reading it doesn’t feel like moving in a straight line, but rather a spiral, and as Heffernan writes, “a spiral always brings us back to a center, no matter how far we travel away from it.”

Julie Heffernan’s first graphic novel, Babe in the Woods, is a mesmeric work of autofiction loosely retelling how she became an artist while following a hike in the Appalachian Mountains with her infant child.
FictionHistorical FictionGraphic Novels & ComicsClassics

Big Jim and the White Boy

Review by Emily Koch

Countless readers have picked up The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn since it was published in 1885, and it’s commonly listed among the great American novels. Though the book is perennially popular, its author, Mark Twain, has been criticized for relying on racist caricatures when writing about Black Americans, particularly the character Jim, an enslaved Black man who travels with Huckleberry Finn in the book.

Big Jim and the White Boy by David F. Walker and Marcus Kwame Anderson offers the other side of the story of this American classic. The graphic novel retelling centers on Jim and his quest to reunite with his family after they have been sold away by Huck’s cruel and volatile father. Aided by the audacious Huck, Jim undertakes an epic journey across the antebellum South and Midwest. Interwoven with the narrative are glimpses of the elderly Jim telling his story to a group of his great-grandchildren in the 1930s, and flashes further forward in time to the 1980s and 2020s as his descendants in turn pass on the tale.

Walker and Anderson have collaborated before, on the Eisner Award-winning The Black Panther Party: A Graphic Novel History. Walker’s passion for storytelling shines through his prose, with humor and wisdom thoughtfully sprinkled into a narrative that is also realistic about the horrors of slavery. An author’s note explains the linguistic choices he made to humanize Jim while remaining authentic to the time period.

Anderson’s illustrations are distinctive and his attention to detail is impressive: His characters are recognizable at any age. Vibrant color palettes by Isabell Struble will also help readers easily distinguish between the various timelines. The choice to frame the story as being told by an old and bickering Jim and Huck in the 1930s will make readers feel like part of the enthralled in-person audience, and demonstrates the power of oral storytelling in recording Black history.

This phenomenal graphic novel doesn’t set out to replace The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, but to add immeasurably valuable context that has historically been left out. Jim’s story deserves to be told, and as Jim’s great-great-great-granddaughter says, “The story won’t tell itself.”

Big Jim and the White Boy is a phenomenal graphic novel retelling of The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn from Jim’s perspective, adding immeasurably valuable context and celebrating the power of oral storytelling.
NonfictionHistoryCultural HistoryCultural CriticismArts & Culture

American Scary

Review by Amanda Haggard

Any horror writer doing their job knows how to tap into the fears that plague us most. Jeremy Dauber’s American Scary: A History of Horror, from Salem to Stephen King and Beyond provides a robust account of how art has reflected American dread for centuries. As it turns out, our history is rife with foundational fear, making it prime territory for some scary storytelling. 

Dauber starts his “tour of American fear” with our country’s bloody beginnings and proclivity for blaming the devil for everything from bad weather to miscarriage (hello, Salem!). He then passes through slavery, the Industrial Revolution, the Civil War and beyond to more contemporary paranoias reflected in film: murderous technology (The Terminator), individual indifference (the Final Destination series) and surveillance (Paranormal Activity), to name a few. 

One of his strongest examples illuminates the anxieties of women living in the late 19th century with Kate Chopin’s “The Story of an Hour.” In the story, when a woman is told that her husband has died in an accident, her reaction is one of great, unexpected joy and an overwhelming sense of liberation. Just when you think that’s the end of the tale, she discovers the news was given in error: Her husband is still very much alive. The tale ends with her death, which somehow feels less tragic than her loss of freedom. “Chopin’s most pressing contributions to the American fearfulness,” writes Dauber, “. . . consist of the suggestion that liberation, at least for women, is impossible; that, in the end, that sort of awakening . . . is but an illusion.”

Clocking in at over 400 pages with an at-times academic approach, American Scary may come off a bit intimidating at first. But for lovers of all things macabre, the book is worth its weight. Dauber’s attention to the details of myriad cultural touchstones, both famous and obscure, will entice those who care to tiptoe deeper into the darkest of the dark. Dauber acknowledges as well that things in the real world are often scarier than the stories we tell; it’s not a new take, but it’s one he makes exceptionally well. 

American Scary’s greatest success is making readers consider what art may be born of our late-night anxieties. Spooky stuff, huh?

 

The rigorous yet still enticing American Scary invites readers to peer into the horror show of American history through the lens of literature and film.
NonfictionSocial ScienceLGBTQ+

American Teenager

Review by Deborah Mason

Despite the widespread passage of legislation limiting the ability of trans kids to access hormone treatment or other gender-affirming care, there has been little light shed on the lives of the young people these laws target—until now. In American Teenager: How Trans Kids Are Surviving Hate and Finding Joy in a Turbulent Era, Nico Lang, an award-winning nonbinary journalist who has spent a decade reporting on LGBTQ+ issues, documents the hopes, sorrows and joys experienced by seven American trans kids.  

American Teenager is not an attempt to portray a “typical transgender teenager.” Lang’s diverse subjects live in South Dakota, Texas, West Virginia, Alabama, Florida, Illinois and California. Lang spent weeks living with each of the seven families and conducted in-depth interviews with the teens, their relatives and friends. The result is a series of complex, sometimes searing and always sensitive portraits of young people whose right to existence currently hangs in the balance. These kids do have things in common—their resilience, their exhaustion and, happily, their accepting and loving families—but Lang recognizes their individuality as well. 

Several of the kids who live in red states are already fierce advocates for LGBTQ+ rights. Ruby, a young woman from Houston, Texas, testified in her state legislature against a bill that would require trans student athletes to compete on school sports teams that reflect their sex assigned at birth. Despite her efforts, the bill was eventually signed into law. Loved by her family and her church, blessed with a mother who fights passionately for trans rights, and planning a career in costume design, Ruby seems unstoppable. But she still couldn’t stay in Texas. She’s transferring to a California college and leaving behind a state whose legislators deny her humanity. 

On the other hand, there’s Clint, a 17-year-old Muslim teen who lives in Chicago and has no desire at all to be an advocate, testify in front of legislators or attend marches. Clint demands what so many of us want and have: a private life that he can live on his own terms, where his gender is irrelevant to his opportunities. Perhaps Clint’s stubborn refusal to give up his autonomy in the face of repression is the most powerful response there is. “In the end, it’s everyone’s own life,” he tells Lang. “You’ve got to live it the way you want.”

Nico Lang’s powerful American Teenager closely follows seven transgender young adults, rendering complex, searing and sensitive portraits of their lives.
Audio

The Transit of Venus

Review by Deborah Mason

The Transit of Venus (15.5 hours), Shirley Hazzard’s 1980 novel and winner of the National Book Critics Circle Award, tells the story of two Australian sisters, Grace and Caroline Bell, from their arrival in postwar England to their middle age. It is a nuanced and richly detailed exploration of love, power, fate and remorse that gets better with each rereading—and is now available for the first time as an audiobook.

Hazzard’s writing is at once deceptively simple and surprisingly complex, full of wordplay, literary and scientific allusions, and sharp-eyed observations. It could have been tempting for a narrator to exaggerate the puns and games, to make sure that the reader “gets it.” Happily, acclaimed actor Juliet Stevenson beautifully balances wit, irony and compassion to mirror the subtle richness of Hazzard’s novel. The result is a performance that invites the audience to listen again and again to this remarkable book.

Acclaimed actress Juliet Stevenson’s performance is a beautifully balanced blend of wit, irony and compassion that mirrors the subtle richness of Shirley Hazzard’s remarkable 1980 novel, The Transit of Venus.
Science Fiction & FantasyScience Fiction

Alien Clay

Review by Ralph Harris

Humans are walking petri dishes in Alien Clay by Adrian Tchaikovsky.

The dystopian cyberpunk future is here, and the Mandate, humanity’s fascist government, punts its criminals and political opposition to alien worlds. Those who survive the journey (punctuated by an airdrop from space as their disposable shuttle falls apart) face a lifetime sentence in an off-world labor camp. While there are other camps on other planets, Tchaikovsky focuses on just one for this story: Kiln.

Xeno-ecologist (someone who studies the environments of alien worlds) Arton Daghdev is shipped to Kiln after finding himself on the wrong side of the Mandate. Once there, he’s shocked to learn that the planet is home to actual, extraterrestrial life, a secret that’s been kept hidden from the people of Earth. Monolithic white structures dot the surface of Kiln, and were apparently crafted by some type of intelligent life. While whatever species made the monoliths is not readily present, horrific beings of another sort roam the surface of Kiln. Each of these “beings” is made up of multiple, independent creatures that act as their organs, like stomachs or lungs. (Imagine that your lungs are little dudes with their own brains, hanging out in your body. One day, you pass a dying person on the road; they’re mostly dead, but their lung-dudes are crawling away looking for a new body. The dying person’s lung-dudes are shinier and cooler than your lung-dudes, so your body rejects your old lung-dudes and picks up the newer models instead. This is how all life on Kiln works.) Arton and his fellow humans are stuck on a planet crawling with lung-dudes and stomach-dudes and heart-dudes, all ready and eager to replace the organs in their bodies, no matter what the humans themselves have to say about it.

This frightening biology contributes to Alien Clay’s thesis: Science cannot be contained, no matter how much humanity may cling to our arbitrary, artificially restricted “reality.” Commandant Teloran, the director of the camp, relentlessly pushes his staff and the imprisoned scientists to find explanations for the life on Kiln that conform to the Mandate’s established rules of science, despite all the evidence that doesn’t fit within those parameters. Tchaikovsky draws a clear contrast between the hyper-adaptive, ever-changing environment of Kiln and the harsh world of the labor camp, where prisoners slave away at various tasks from toilet cleaning to analysis of alien artifacts. 

Arton is fascinated with the planet and waxes philosophical often, creating a moody, introspective atmosphere. Kiln, Commandant Teloran’s regime and the disgruntled prisoners increasingly find themselves at odds, and as life within the walls of the camp becomes more and more hostile, Arton’s options become less and less appealing. Eventually, he must choose between the safety of the science he knows and understands, or the new understanding that Kiln can teach him. Tchaikovsky is just as laser-focused on the life of Kiln as his protagonist, which may disappoint some readers interested in a broader exploration of the characters or the greater universe they inhabit. But those willing to abandon all else in pursuit of uncovering Kiln’s mysteries will be continually fascinated—and often horrified—by Alien Clay.

Adrian Tchaikovsky’s Alien Clay presents a vision of extraterrestrial life that’s as fascinating as it is horrifying.
Audio

Better Faster Farther

Review by Norah Piehl

While women’s basketball and soccer gain attention and fans, journalist Maggie Mertens also makes a compelling case for women who run to get their due in Better Faster Farther: How Running Changed Everything We Know About Women (9.5 hours). More than that, Mertens uses the history of women’s running as a lens through which to examine—and debunk—centuries-old assumptions about physiology, gender and race. From the mythical figure of Atalanta to the latest research on women’s ultramarathon performances exceeding men’s, Mertens incorporates elements of history, sociology, gender studies and science in her thoroughly researched account. Mertens’ reading of her work is matter-of-fact but engaging, and the audiobook includes image files so listeners can see pictures of the running heroes she profiles. Better Faster Farther’s stories of female athletes who changed the running game just might inspire you to lace up your running shoes, throw in your earbuds and go for a jog.

Read our starred review of the print edition of Better Faster Farther.

Lace up your running shoes, throw in your earbuds and go for a jog accompanied by Maggie Mertens’ Better Faster Farther, an inspiring account of female athletes who changed the running game.
Audio

Humor Me

Review by Maya Fleischmann

Effortlessly engaging, Ferdelle Capistrano’s easygoing performance highlights humor and authentic character interaction in the audiobook of Humor Me (10.5 hours), Cat Shook’s sweet tale about navigating relationships.

Presley Fry, Humor Me’s 20-something protagonist, is an overworked and underappreciated assistant at a New York City late night show. Presley keeps romantic prospects at a distance, and has mixed feelings about her BFF getting too close to someone else. Though her job entails literally looking for humor—she scouts talent at comedy clubs—Presley’s been distracted since the recent death of her mother, Patty.

Capistrano’s dulcet tones and flawless delivery capture the endearing Presley, and she shows her range with other characters, like Susan Clark, Patty’s compassionate and quirky friend. Seamless transitions between characters in dialogue and well-timed asides bring out the humor without overdoing it. This charming audiobook will engage and delight fans of romantic comedies.

Read our review of the print edition of Humor Me.

Presley Fry, Humor Me’s 20-something protagonist, is an overworked assistant at a late night show who’s been distracted since the recent death of her mother. This charming audiobook will engage and delight fans of romantic comedies.
Children's & YAMiddle GradeChildren's

Felix Powell, Boy Dog

Review by Emily Koch

Felix Powell isn’t like most 8-year-olds. When his Nan gives him $5 to spend on anything at a thrift shop, he is drawn toward an old blanket. Additionally, he can communicate with his dog, the phenomenally named Mary Puppins. After he and Puppins try everything they can think of to discover the blanket’s secret magic, they decide to play a game: Can You Free Felix From the Blanket While He Holds On as Tight as He Can? But when the blanket comes off, it’s not Felix the Human Boy hiding underneath. Suddenly, he’s transformed into Felix Powell, Boy Dog!

Felix and Puppins proceed to have a day filled with learning all about being a dog, from bickering with the local stray cat, Gumbo, to learning how to “sweetface” and do “nice-thoughting” with Puppins. But as it gets closer to dinner time, Felix begins to worry how he is going to turn back into a boy. Can he get Gumbo to share the secret she seems to be holding in? Or will his Nan find two dogs when she goes outside to look for Felix?

Newbery Medalist Erin Entrada Kelly’s Felix Powell, Boy Dog is a heartwarming and hilarious opening to a planned series of illustrated chapter books. Felix is also friends with Marisol from Kelly’s previous Maybe Marisol series. New and returning fans will delight at how Kelly tiptoes into fantasy to answer a question many have surely pondered: What is it like to be a dog?

Black-and-white illustrations are equal parts adorable and entertaining, and sure to satisfy voracious graphic novel readers. Here Kelly leans into graphic novel elements, with entire sections of comic-style storytelling. Kelly’s books stand out because of her attention to detail and hidden Easter eggs. For example, in an illustration of a bookshelf at the thrift shop, a lot of the titles are books from Felix Powell, Boy Dog’s imprint, Greenwillow.

Sweet lessons about compassion, as well as copious animal facts, are sprinkled throughout. Reluctant and eager young readers alike will enjoy getting to know Felix and will anxiously imagine what animal he might change into next.

Reluctant and eager young readers alike will enjoy getting to know Felix Powell, Boy Dog, and will anxiously imagine what animal he might change into next.
Mystery & SuspenseSuspense

You Will Never Be Me

Review by Elyse Discher

In You Will Never Be Me, Jesse Q. Sutanto not only gives readers a voyeuristic glimpse into the lives of mom-fluencers, she pulls off a twist sure to surprise even veteran thriller readers.

Meredith Lee and Aspen Palmer were once friends, but the cutthroat world of influencing has driven them to frenemy status. When they met, Meredith’s career as a beauty and fashion influencer was on the rise, but after Aspen had children, she pivoted into the mom-fluencer sphere and skyrocketed to fame. Now Aspen and her perfect home, husband and kids are driving Meredith insane with jealousy. She’s been trying to break into mom-influencing with her own baby, but she can’t quite crack it, and Aspen’s easy-breezy success is pushing her to the edge. When Meredith snags an iPad from Aspen, giving her access to all of Aspen’s accounts, she can’t resist wreaking havoc on Aspen’s carefully cultivated internet presence.

When Aspen’s immaculately scheduled and sanitized life begins to fall apart due to Meredith’s meddling (surreptitiously rescheduled meetings, declined sponsorship opportunities, etc.), she starts to question her own sanity. But what Meredith doesn’t realize is that Aspen can only be pushed so far. Her children are tired of playing a role for social media, her husband is distant and resentful of her success, but she can’t quit her online persona because of the six-figure income it provides.

Jesse Q. Sutanto finds the anxiety beneath the aesthetics.

Sutanto pulls back the curtain on a culture that is as intriguing as it is narcissistic. Meredith and Aspen both have to maintain a perfectly curated image in order to monetize their online presences, but those images are far from reality. The dissonance between the real world of crying children, messy homes and diaper blowouts and the aesthetic both women present online is impossible to resolve, and this anxiety, so vividly conjured by Sutanto, is clearly enough to drive Aspen and Meredith to unimaginable acts.

You Will Never Be Me’s truly twisty, unexpected plot will hook readers, even those who don’t find either of its main characters particularly likable—it hardly matters, as both are absolutely fascinating. The eventual confrontation between Meredith and Aspen is shocking and brilliantly executed, the crowning achievement of this truly unforgettable read.

Jesse Q. Sutanto pulls back the curtain on the world of mom-fluencers in her unforgettable, brilliantly executed thriller You Will Never Be Me.
Science Fiction & FantasyFantasy

Voyage of the Damned

Review by Chris Pickens

You might think you know what to expect from a book titled Voyage of the Damned. Author Frances White, I’m sure, will be pleased to upend your expectations. Murder, mystery and magic await, but there’s also a generous helping of humor, and an unforgettable narrator, too. Title be damned, this utter joy of a read would be Agatha Christie’s favorite fantasy.

To say that Ganymedes Piscero is a bit of an underachiever is putting it very nicely. To be fair, it’s easy to be an underachiever when your province is the butt of every joke in Concordia. At least he’s one of the Blessed, the heirs to the empire’s 12 provinces. Maybe the upcoming boat trip around the realm will bring him closer to the other Blessed aboard. They’re a varied group of characters, each of them possessing a secret magical talent, and Ganymedes has been more than happy to play the class clown for years. But when one of the Blessed turns up dead under mysterious circumstances, Ganymedes finds himself needing to be something he’s never been before: brave. Can he find the murderer and save the rest of the heirs aboard before it’s too late?

At times, fans of the genre can forget how important it is for a fantasy story to be fun. From start to finish, Voyage of the Damned proves just how pivotal a sense of joy can be. Ganymedes is one of the most entertaining narrators in years, full of snarky comebacks and nuanced layers. The mystery elements are sturdily crafted, and surprises abound. There are moments of intense emotion, as befits the subject matter, but White unleashes Ganymedes’ laugh-out-loud humor often, lightening the mood when the going gets rough.

Voyage of the Damned would make a fantastic travel book, sure to keep you reading even as your journeys distract you. Thanks to its mix of murder and mystery, even readers who are new to fantasy will find it impossible to put down. Climb aboard, watch your back and enjoy this juicy caper.

Despite its ominous title, Voyage of the Damned, Frances White’s fantasy-mystery hybrid, is an utter joy.

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