Norah Piehl

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In the opening pages of Caldecott honoree (They All Saw a Cat) Brendan Wenzel’s radiant new picture book, Good Golden Sun, the sun’s rays just barely glint over the hilly horizon, tinting a deep purple night sky with the first shimmering roses and violets of dawn. A bee, still a shadowy silhouette in the early daylight, approaches a flower whose newly opened petals have been transformed to a luminous gold. The bee sips from the flower and . . . voila! It too has taken on the sun’s golden hue.

On subsequent pages, bee makes honey, bear eats honey, mosquito bites bear, bird eats mosquito, and on and on. As each takes on the sun’s golden glow, readers can visualize, in the most beautifully evocative way imaginable, the transfer of the sun’s energy to all of Earth’s living things, including, as the sun recedes into twilight, a young human.

Wenzel’s gorgeous artwork, rendered in cut paper and other mixed media, accompanies a series of questions posed by each character to the sun. These questions reflect particular concerns. For example, the mouse asks questions stemming from justified fears: “Good golden sun, / are you up there staying safe? / Do you think about the scary things that sometimes lie in wait?” On the other hand, the grain crops, baking under the midday sun, ask “Good golden sun, / could you take a tiny break? / For your rays are scorching hot / and so often there’s no shade.”

Good Golden Sun shows it’s possible to integrate STEM topics in an age-appropriate way that doesn’t sacrifice lyrical language, discussion-sparking philosophical questions, gorgeous artwork or moments of humor (young listeners will giggle to see how energy is transferred from the fox to the earthworms and plants). This is a joyful ode to the Earth’s interdependence, one that grows alongside readers.

Good Golden Sun shows it's possible to integrate STEM topics in an age-appropriate way that doesn't sacrifice lyrical language, discussion-sparking philosophical questions, gorgeous artwork or moments of humor.
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“I didn’t know / best friends could die” is the stark opening of award-winning author Renée Watson’s latest novel-in-verse, All the Blues in the Sky. Narrator Sage is still raw and reeling from the death of her best friend (whose name isn’t revealed until late in the novel) after a hit-and-run car accident on Sage’s 13th birthday. The after-school grief group Sage attends offers moments of shared understanding but also envy and resentment—Sage feels a gulf between her own sudden, heartrending loss and the experiences of other students who were able to say goodbye to terminally ill loved ones over weeks or months.

In the pages that follow, the novel offers a blend of Sage’s memories of her friend, her longing for a different reality where her friend still lives, and her painful feelings of guilt. Watson takes her readers through various stages of grief, showing that the process is messy, ugly and far from linear—especially when another impending loss compounds Sage’s sorrow.

Throughout, Watson employs vivid imagery to convey Sage’s complicated emotions in ways both lyrical and concrete: “Tiny flowers blooming out of the planter outside a brownstone, showing off their beauty. / And across the street, a pile of garbage bags holding rotting things.” Watson doesn’t hold back in depicting the wrenching heartache of a beloved life lost too soon, but she also brings her young readers to a powerful realization: that although loss is inevitable, we can all do our best to love as well and fiercely as we can, for as long as we can.

With her unique propensity for writing about complex emotions and difficult situations for young audiences, Renee Watson might be the queen of middle grade. It’s no wonder that we’re excited for her newest offering, All the Blues in the Sky, which explores grief as it follows its 13-year-old protagonist, Sage, through the aftermath of her best friend’s death.
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On her 29th birthday, Brooklyn-based publishing professional Lila De gets a phone call not with birthday greetings but with a stunner of a surprise: Her maternal grandfather has died and left her the sprawling, dilapidated family estate in Kolkata. Despite being on the verge of a big promotion, Lila, who hasn’t been back to India in a decade, is compelled by the terms of the will to return to her ancestral home—which is still occupied by many of her relatives, including her mother, with whom Lila has had a tense and distant relationship. Numerous dramas play out in the expansive narrative of The Magnificent Ruins (16 hours), whose subplots and vast array of supporting characters are adeptly brought to life by Deepa Samuel’s steady narration. Readers who enjoy audiobooks that transport them to evocative locales will find much to savor here.

Read our starred review of the print version of The Magnificent Ruins.

The numerous dramas and vast array of supporting characters of The Magnificent Ruins’ expansive narrative are adeptly brought to life by Deepa Samuel's steady narration.
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Miss Leoparda, a delightful fable written and illustrated by Natalia Shaloshvili, opens with the titular character secure in the embrace of her treetop bed, surrounded by quiet rolling hills, which she traverses every day in her work as a bus driver. Miss Leoparda reliably shuttles a variety of animals—many of whom wear fetching hats and other winsome accessories—to do “their animal business.” It’s an idyllic image of communal life: Every seat on the bus is taken, and rabbits, zebras, cats, bears, elephants and even a rather suspicious-looking wolf peacefully share space with one another.

One day, a gas-guzzling, exhaust-spewing car zips past the slow-moving bus, drawing the animals’ attention: “That was amazing!” they exclaim. The novelty of new technology lures the animals, one by one, away from the bus and behind the wheels of their own individual cars. But soon the streets are clogged with traffic, the skies are choked with smog, and the animals are increasingly irritable. Even Miss Leoparda’s beloved tree is targeted when it’s time to expand the roadways to make room for what some might call progress.

Miss Leoparda refuses to give in to this hollow enticement, however, and she eventually finds a creative, sustainable solution to restore her community and the environment at the same time. The message feels organic rather than heavy-handed, reinforced by the pleasantly hazy illustrations created in acrylic paint and watercolor crayons. Shaloshvili’s artwork is as expressive in its landscapes—the greenery of Miss Leoparda’s original habitat contrasting with the dour gray of the traffic jam—and on a more intimate scale, as the animals’ expressions, somewhat reminiscent of Jon Klassen’s illustrations, manage to be both deadpan and surprisingly expressive. This one’s sure to get budding environmentalists eager to enact change in their own communities. 

A delightful fable, Miss Leoparda feels organic rather than heavy-handed, its message reinforced by Natalia Shaloshvili’s pleasantly hazy illustrations created in acrylic paint and watercolor crayons.
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In Liz Riggs’ Lo Fi (10.5 hours), Alison Hunter has put her dreams of musical stardom firmly behind her after a near-disastrous open mic night and subsequent (song)writer’s block, and for now she’s satisfied to check IDs and stamp wrists at The Venue, a landmark music club in Nashville, spending her 20s aimlessly hooking up with bartenders and snagging free drinks. But that’s before her old flame Nick comes back into town, and before an up-and-coming indie musician goes missing. Audiobook narrator Jesse Vilinsky effectively captures Alison’s voice, which alternates between dreamy lyricism and sharp observation of the Nashville music scene and its wannabes, and she also portrays Allison’s love interests with masculine huskiness. Although the lists of songs that bookend many chapters are initially confusing for a listener, once you understand the project, you’ll enjoy reminiscing over them. The only downside to the audio version of Lo Fi is that you can’t play these nostalgia-laced playlists at the same time as you listen.

Audiobook narrator Jesse Vilinsky captures dreamy lyricism and sharp observation of the Nashville music scene and its wannabes in the audiobook of Liz Riggs’ Lo Fi.
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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.
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What was supposed to be an incredibly romantic first date with her longtime crush, Akilah, instead nearly becomes Marlowe Wexler’s undoing, when the custom candle she ordered in Akilah’s favorite scent explodes, burning down a house belonging to Marlowe’s family friends. Is it any wonder that Akilah breaks things off rather than dating an accidental arsonist?

Heartbroken and more than a little embarrassed, Marlowe eagerly accepts an unexpected offer to get far away from her hometown of Syracuse, New York, and work as a summer tour guide at Morning House, a historic mansion in the Thousand Islands region of the St. Lawrence River. Marlowe’s a quick study, so she knows from day one that Morning House has an infamous history. The onetime home of celebrated wellness pioneer (and eugenicist) Phillip Ralston, his glamorous wife Faye and their seven children, Morning House was the site of a 1932 tragedy that left two of the Ralston children dead under mysterious circumstances. 

What Marlowe doesn’t know until she arrives and starts becoming acquainted with the other tour guides—a diverse group of eccentric teens united by their shared history of growing up nearby—is that there’s a more recent mystery afoot, one with ominous echoes of the past . . . and perhaps ongoing danger in the present. 

Maureen Johnson, the bestselling author of the Truly Devious series, crafts a whip-smart standalone whodunit in Death at Morning House. Scenes from the Ralston family’s deceptively idyllic life in 1932 alternate with those chronicling Marlowe’s growing confidence in her detective skills, even as someone disappears, a storm approaches and conditions on the island become ever more perilous. Johnson has consistently excelled at incorporating historical material in novels starring smart, quirky, appealingly flawed protagonists, and dual timelines mean there’s more than one mystery to solve. Readers won’t soon forget their tour of menacing Morning House.

Maureen Johnson crafts a whip-smart standalone whodunit in Death at Morning House, with a narrative that alternates between past and present.
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Ash has always felt like an outsider. They have few friends at school, their interests in fantasy novels and environmentalism aren’t shared by their peers, and when they came out as nonbinary and changed their name, their parents didn’t quite get it: “When they don’t think I can hear them, they say the old name to each other.” So when their family decides to take a summer trip to Disneyland, Ash asks permission to head to northern California instead, ostensibly to spend time at their aunt and uncle’s ranch—but actually to solve a mystery.

Ash’s beloved Grandpa Edwin always talked about a cabin he’d built in the wilderness near the ranch. Now that Edwin’s passed away, no one’s sure whether the cabin is real or just family lore, but Ash is determined to find out. They spend weeks researching, planning and preparing. When the time is right, they set off with nothing but their dog Chase and what they can carry on their back, ready to fully embrace a life without judgment—and entirely alone.

Graphic novelist Jen Wang, who has explored issues of gender and identity in previous works like The Princess and the Dressmaker and Stargazing, continues to examine these ideas in Ash’s Cabin through the bittersweet, complicated character of Ash. Though determined to be self-reliant, Ash soon comes to understand just how interconnected humans are with each other and with the natural world. 

Wang’s pen and watercolor drawings tenderly illustrate Ash’s world. Structured as a journal, the graphic novel includes illustrations of fish, herbs and edible plants; but even as Ash, the narrator, outlines all they’re doing to survive in this remote place, Wang’s illustrations also depict the toll this isolated life takes on Ash and Chase, especially when a crisis threatens all they’ve built. Beautiful, complex and affirming, Ash’s Cabin will prompt deep conversations about how best to support one another and our environment, at a time when the future is uncertain and peace can be hard to find.

Beautiful, complex and affirming, Ash’s Cabin will prompt deep conversations about how best to support one another and our environment, at a time when the future is uncertain and peace can be hard to find.
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Whether you eagerly devoured Kevin Kwan’s Crazy Rich Asians trilogy, or you’re coming to his “lifestyles of the rich, famous and problematic” subject matter for the first time, the audiobook of his latest standalone novel, Lies and Weddings, is sure to satisfy. Kwan’s thoroughly entertaining global romp spans locales ranging from Houston to Hawaii to British manor houses to Marrakech, as the three children of Lord and Lady Greshamsbury try to salvage the family fortune—and maybe find true love along the way. Narrator Jing Lusi adeptly captures a broad range of accents among the dozens of secondary characters. The production also unobtrusively integrates Kwan’s footnotes, which offer humorous asides—no mean feat in an audio adaptation. Though it clocks in at just over 15 hours, colorful descriptions of fashion, contemporary art and food—not to mention the hijinks of its characters—will keep readers on board for this splendidly enjoyable ride.

Read our starred review of the print version of Lies and Weddings.

The audiobook of Kevin Kwan’s latest standalone novel, Lies and Weddings, is a thoroughly entertaining global romp packed with colorful descriptions of fashion, contemporary art and food.
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With Bibsy Cross and the Bad Apple, award-winning author Liz Garton Scanlon launches a new chapter book series starring a lovable protagonist “with a whole lot to say.” Eight-year-old Bibsy loves school and learning (especially about science), and she has adored all of her teachers—that is, until third grade, when her teacher is stern Mrs. Stumper, who “doesn’t seem that keen on Bibsy either.”

Bibsy enjoys sharing ideas and stories with her class, but Mrs. Stumper thinks Bibsy’s interjections are often “a stone too far.” All too often, when Bibsy and her encouraging parents share their nightly “sweet-and-sour” good news and bad news at dinner, Bibsy’s sour is about her stressful relationship with her teacher. Fortunately, Bibsy is resilient. As her parents note, “If there is one true thing about Bibsy, it is that her sours almost always become sweet.”

So when the upcoming science fair gives Bibsy a chance to flex her creativity and enthusiasm for learning by conducting experiments and creating a poster with her best friend, Bibsy might just gain the courage to speak up for herself one more time—and encourage Mrs. Stumper to change her approach to discipline, not only toward Biby but also toward her other students.

Scanlon’s story, which is written in conversational free verse, combines an exuberant, endearing protagonist with an empowering, STEM-focused plot. Ho’s cheerful black-and-white illustrations are punctuated with bright spots of red that are as bold as Bibsy’s personality. Readers who fall in love with Bibsy are in luck: Knopf is simultaneously publishing a second novel in the series about Bibsy’s attempt to win the library’s bike-a-thon. Hopefully many more adventures will follow.

Within the conversational free verse of Bibsy Cross and the Bad Apple, Liz Garton Scanlon and Dung Ho combine an exuberant, endearing protagonist with an empowering, STEM-focused plot.
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Sylvie Cathrall’s debut fantasy, a series opener, offers an aquatic variation on dark academia, unfolding entirely through a series of letters and other documents. Set 1,000 years after a mysterious event called “the Dive” sent almost all of humankind underwater, A Letter to the Luminous Deep (12.5 hours) begins with reclusive E. Cidnosin writing to scholar Henerey Clel about her discovery of an unidentified “elongated fish.” Listeners soon discover, through letters between E.’s sister, Sophy, and Henerey’s brother, Vyerin, that E. and Henerey have disappeared under unexplained circumstances. Part mystery, part slowly building romance, Cathrall’s lyrical fantasy utilizes poignant details and quaint language to conjure an evocative underwater world. The use of different narrators for each letter writer—Claire Morgan, Kit Griffiths, Justin Avoth and Joshua Riley—is an effective way to differentiate the characters, and the novel’s unhurried pacing allows listeners to relish the art of letter writing.

Read our starred review of the print version of A Letter to the Luminous Deep.

Part mystery, part slowly building romance, Sylvie Cathrall's lyrical fantasy, A Letter to the Luminous Deep, utilizes poignant details and quaint language to conjure an evocative underwater world.

Woe

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This reviewer is emphatically not a cat person. So it’s a testament to my faith in Lucy Knisley that I eagerly picked up Woe: A Housecat’s Story of Despair

The comics included here will be familiar to the bestselling author’s numerous social media followers; over many years she chronicled the misadventures and many (many) demands of her charmingly grouchy cat Linney as webcomics. Now, they’ve been collected into a single volume for the first time. Readers unfamiliar with Linney will benefit from Knisley’s introduction, in which she explains why her drawings of Linney don’t look exactly the way one might expect a cat to look: “A lifetime of trying to draw cats ‘well,’” Knisley writes, “has shown me that it’s much better to try to draw their personality, rather than an accurate visual representation.” 

In Knisley’s artwork, Linney is a vaguely cat-shaped being with personality to spare. She is the color of butterscotch pudding, with a fluffy tail, no nose to speak of, and eyes and a mouth that are expressive beyond belief. Her green eyes can go wide and attentive, or squinty and sly (and in at least one case, they’re lit with the fire of devilry); her one canine tooth sticks out when she yowls in despair or just for attention. 

Knisley’s comics chronicle dynamics that will be familiar to pet owners, and cat owners in particular: the pet who whines loudly for food only to turn up their nose at what’s on offer; the toddler whose fur-pulling affection is barely tolerated; the long-suffering spouse who grudgingly indulges the cat’s foibles. Since the real-life Linney passed away in 2020, Knisley also chronicles the inevitable pain of losing a beloved member of the family in sections that will undoubtedly affect readers emotionally, whether they’re cat people or not. The individual cartoons are short and clever, but collectively, they compile a funny, touching saga that explores what it means to care for a beloved four-legged companion through thick and thin.

Woe: A Housecat’s Story of Despair is a funny, touching saga that explores what it means to care for a beloved four-legged companion through thick and thin.
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Spanish novelist Alana S. Portero debuts with Bad Habit (5.5 hours), a brief but stunning coming-of-age novel set in a working-class neighborhood of Madrid during the 1980s and 1990s. The unnamed narrator describes her early awareness of hostility towards her nascent trans identity, hostility which exponentially compounds other dangers like drugs and poverty that confront all of the neighborhood’s young people: “We grew up like that: generations of working-class kids dreaming up whole worlds in the very same plots that might one day become our final resting places.” Actress Alexandra Grey, who is a trans woman, reads with a smooth and resonant voice that mirrors the lyricism of Portero’s words in Mara Faye Lethem’s English translation. This image-rich, unsentimental portrayal of a vibrant yet vulnerable place will transport readers into a world and a life worth understanding.

Read our starred review of the print version of Bad Habit.

Actress Alexandra Grey resonantly reads Alana S. Portero’s stunning debut, Bad Habit, chronicling a trans girl’s coming of age in 1980s Madrid.

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