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Dusty, sepia-toned darkness blankets the pages of Oasis, a  poignant and cinematic graphic novel by Guojing, whose prior acclaimed works include The Only Child and The Flamingo. Previously a concept artist for animated TV shows and games, Guojing has a knack for atmospheric lighting and a strong grasp of the power of scale, which is evident in this eerily beautiful story about two children named JieJie and DiDi (“older sister” and “younger brother” in Chinese) and their efforts to create and maintain a sense of family in an unrelentingly harsh world. 

JieJie and DiDi are adorably small, yet hardy and determined: Every day, they hike across massive dunes in a vast desert to a battered phone booth where they can call their mother, who works in Oasis City. In striking contrast to the kids’ lonely existence in a barren, polluted landscape, Oasis City is “a paradise with the purest water and air” that’s “designed, built, and guarded by AI robots.” But the humans—including the children’s mother—who build the robots are “forgotten ones,” who toil in an underground factory.

One fateful day, Mom misses their call. On their way home, the worried children detour into an Oasis trash dump where they discover a broken AI robot. The kids repair it and activate its “Mother Mode,” which kicks off a whirlwind of learning what it would be like to live with a mother every day—as opposed to the children’s reality of only seeing Mom during the annual moon festival. But the children’s longing for their human Mom does not abate, and when she unexpectedly returns, the characters must all reconsider who they are to each other. Can they create a new kind of household that offers hope for their future, and perhaps even the world at large? 

Oasis is a visually arresting, emotionally moving tale sure to resonate with readers drawn to stories about family in its many guises, as well as those compelled to contemplate the ways in which technology can pull us apart—or become a surprising catalyst for drawing us closer together.

Oasis is a visually arresting, emotionally moving tale sure to resonate with readers drawn to stories about family in its many guises.
Interview by

What inspired the desert setting of Oasis?
The desert represents vastness, harshness and emptiness. It also symbolizes the destruction of old ideas, ways of living and civilizations. The story follows two children who show strength as they struggle to survive in a lifeless desert and create their own natural oasis. This extreme desert setting becomes the backdrop for exploring the metaphorical oasis, highlighting the stark contrast between the sacrifices demanded by shiny, artificial progress and the core of human nature and the true essence of humanity.

Your previous two graphic novels, Stormy and The Flamingo, both utilized vibrant colors. Oasis is more muted. What is your process when developing a color palette?

The children live in a forgotten and polluted city in the desert, which is also a landfill from Oasis City. It’s dry, chaotic and hopeless. Bright colors are obviously not suitable for this story, so I used low-key colors to express their mood and situation, and also the unique beauty of the desert.

JieJie and DiDi live alone while waiting for their mother to secure a way for them to join her in Oasis City. This resembles many real-life immigration experiences, and Oasis is specifically dedicated to the left-behind children within China. Can you speak about this theme of migration? 

In reality, many children are left behind for various reasons, and one of the most notable examples can be found in China. Many migrant workers move to the cities in search of better opportunities or a brighter future. However, due to the hukou system—a household registration system similar to a local residence permit—children face significant challenges in accessing education and social benefits in urban areas. As a result, a large number of children are left behind in rural areas, often living with their grandparents. This has led to a growing crisis, with countless children raised without their parents, resulting in emotional distance and a breakdown of fundamental human connections. This situation deeply saddens me, and in my story, the two children represent those who are left behind.

“Despite advancements in technology, why have our most basic and simple needs become luxurious and out of reach? Why are people feeling lonelier and more indifferent?”

The children find moments of happiness even while living in a brutal environment. For example, they enjoy the “beautiful pink color” of the sunset—despite it being a result of pollution. How did you maintain the gentleness in this story, despite its harsh circumstances?

I lived in Beijing for a while during the worst of the smog. I still remember the sight of the beautiful pink sun, partly hidden by the fog. Its color was soft and magical. I also experienced dramatic sandstorms that, for just a few minutes at noon, turned the world dark, as if it were the end of the world. I’ve kept these images in my mind and used them in my story. In one scene, the pink sun represents the children’s longing for their mother—an unreachable wish, like a dream lost in the mist.

The story takes place close to the Mid-Autumn Festival (“moon festival” in the book). What does that festival mean to you? 

The Mid-Autumn Festival, with a history spanning over a thousand years, is a day dedicated to family reunions, with the moon serving as a symbol of this togetherness. On this day, families gather to admire the moon together. In Chinese legends, the moon often represents family members who are absent. One such legend tells of a lonely beauty residing on the moon in a cold palace, longing to be reunited with her family. For me, the Mid-Autumn Festival is just as special as it is for any other Chinese person: It’s a time spent with my parents, grandparents and loved ones, filled with food, laughter and joyful talks.

Do you see Oasis reflecting the labor realities of our world?

In Oasis, which is an upside-down world, the children’s mother has no name. Instead, [she is referred to by] a number in a factory, while artificial intelligence provides the human emotions [in the story]. We see that humans have to work like machines, and having the most basic human emotions has become a luxury. This is not a plot in science fiction. We see it from [factory workers in real life] who fight for their family and a better future for their children.

The mother “works like a robot,” while the AI mom performs the actions of a human mother. How would you describe the dynamic between human and robot in this story? 

The human mother is simple and ordinary, not endowed with superpowers or magic like AI. Yet, for her children, she remains an irreplaceable figure. Her senses, smile, embrace, voice and even her scent cannot be replicated by AI in this story. The true essence of motherhood is unique and incomparable. Since becoming a mother myself, I’ve felt this strength more deeply than ever. The AI robot may serve as a caregiver, a guardian and perhaps even a friend, but it can never replace the warmth and depth of a mother’s love.

Read our starred review of Oasis here.

In Oasis, AI robots can build cities, or fight on the battlefield, or act as mothers. What was the significance of including these different modes? 

AI can become whatever we choose it to be, depending on how we use it. It holds the potential to either help or harm us. In my story, while an insecure human society creates technology driven by its own fears, two children demonstrate how they repurpose the same technology to play a different role, ultimately benefiting the core of humanity.

In the end, the AI robot provides a way for the mother to escape her struggles. Do you envision a hopeful future with AI?

Despite advancements in technology, why have our most basic and simple needs become luxurious and out of reach? Why are people feeling lonelier and more indifferent? Like the ending of the book, I hope AI evolves beyond a tool for the wealthy; I wish for it to help humanity reconnect with its true nature, embrace each other and support those in need.

 

In the author’s latest graphic novel, Oasis, two children seek comfort in a discarded AI robot, while their mother labors in a factory in order to give them a better life.
Review by

The Gift of the Great Buffalo is a thrilling adventure story and an excellent history lesson about Métis-Ojibwe culture all wrapped up in one. The author of We Are the Water Protectors, Carole Lindstrom, who is Métis and an enrolled member of the Turtle Mountain Band of Ojibwe, explains in an author’s note that although she grew up enjoying Laura Ingalls Wilder’s Little House books, “being portrayed as a ‘savage’ in a book where I felt an actual kinship to Laura Ingalls was very difficult for me to understand. It felt as if I were being hurt by a friend.”

Lindstrom wrote The Gift of the Great Buffalo to let readers know that “before there was a little house on the prairie, there was a little tipi on the prairie.” The book follows Rose, a young Métis girl accompanying her family to a big gathering for a twice-a-year buffalo hunt. Readers will be fascinated to see how the group hunt is organized, with “strict laws that were enforced by the captains, to ensure order and fairness.” Lindstrom skillfully incorporates other historical context as well, noting that European settlers had already eliminated most of the buffalo.

Aly McKnight’s illustrations capture the close relationship between Rose and her family, the sense of community fostered by the hunt, and the excitement of the big gathering. She wonderfully depicts tangible objects, like a steam locomotive—an invention that hastened the demise of the buffalo—as well as the spiritual connections Rose and her family have to the land and the animals they hunt. In a moving spread, readers see Rose listening to the voice of the buffalo spirit as a giant herd grazes amidst the green prairie grasses.

When Rose’s father, who is a captain, and others have trouble finding buffalo, Rose takes matters into her own hands in a daring show of female empowerment. While the story is both compelling and satisfying, the actual hunt is not portrayed—which is understandable, although its omission feels somewhat glaring, with only a single line mentioning, “It was a good hunting day.” Overall, The Gift of the Great Buffalo offers a meaningful look at Métis-Ojibwe history, and will have broad appeal for young readers.

The Gift of the Great Buffalo offers a meaningful look at Métis-Ojibwe history, and will have broad appeal for young readers.
Review by

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.

The adorably precocious star of Every Monday Mabel is the opposite of famously cranky cartoon cat Garfield: She loves Mondays. In fact, she thinks, “Monday is the best day of the week.”

As Jashar Awan conveys via punchy, vivid art and wryly humorous text, Mabel’s Mondays have a ritual. She rises early, dresses, drags her chair through the house—stopping only to get herself a bowl of Cocoa Os—and sets up shop at “the top of the driveway. The perfect spot to sit and wait.” Suspense builds as Awan traces Mabel’s path through the family home: Where is she going? Why does she need a chair? And what’s got her so focused and determined?

Mabel’s parents and sister engage in their own morning rituals, too. Older sister Mira reads and listens to music as she rolls her eyes at Mabel doing “the most boring thing.” Plant-loving Mom waters an indoor tree and smiles as Mabel “does the cutest thing.” And sports-jersey-clad Dad drinks coffee as he watches her do “the funniest thing.”

Mabel steadily eats her big bowl of chocolate cereal until, at long last, the object of her admiration appears, with a “RRRRRRRRRRRRR!” and a “HONK HONK!”: the glorious garbage truck. It’s big and bright and loud, and makes trash disappear. What’s not to like? She marvels at the green behemoth’s impressive attributes (“The hubcaps shine! The engine roars! The brakes squeak! The lights flash!”) as a bright, sunny yellow background heightens five wonderful pages of intense excitement.

Awan, the creator of Towed By Toad and several other picture books celebrating childlike exuberance, uses a high-contrast palette, fuchsia action lines and skillfully employed onomatopoeia to create eye-catching visuals and fodder for fun read-alouds.Sure to be a favorite reread for kids and grown-ups alike, Every Monday Mabel is an enthusiastic, delightful tribute to community helpers and the many, many people who value and appreciate them. “GAH-DUMP!”

Sure to be a favorite reread for kids and grown-ups alike, Every Monday Mabel is an enthusiastic, delightful tribute to community helpers and the many, many people who value and appreciate them.
Review by

Dean Stuart makes a stellar debut with Cassi and the House of Memories, a graphic novel about a girl whose beloved grandfather suffers from dementia. It’s not only a sensitive, informative portrayal of how the disease might affect a loved one—especially for young people—but it’s also an exciting adventure story.

Cassi and her grandfather enjoy time together in his garden, but she is puzzled by some of his behaviors, especially when he suddenly doesn’t seem to recognize her. He confesses, “Sometimes I find myself in the dark” and “alone and confused.” Cassi’s grandmother further explains the situation with a helpful visual demonstration that compares falling dominoes to memories, adding, “Sometimes Grandpa goes to places that are familiar only to him. We can’t see them, but they are very real inside his head.” Cassi’s exuberant personality and Stuart’s dynamic illustrations keep things lively, even during these contemplative moments.

When her grandfather wanders off, Cassi begins to search but suddenly finds herself in a mysterious place, which turns out to be what Grandpa calls “his memory palace.” Cassi finds herself rambling through Escher-like structures of stairways, windows, and doors, and also a huge portrait gallery that allows Cassi access to events from her grandfather’s life. When certain scenes disintegrate, Cassi notes, “This must be his memory falling apart!”

Stuart’s distinctive illustrations are painterly in the very best way—distinct from the comic-book styles found in many other middle grade graphic novels—and full of both action and beauty. He cleverly distinguishes between the present, Grandpa’s memories and the haze of confusion that sometimes overtakes Grandpa’s brain.  Stuart’s use of color and pattern is particularly adept. Many colors that should be bright are muted throughout, accentuating the book’s exploration of fading memory. Cassi’s striped dress helps readers keep track of her in each scene, as does the red sweater Grandpa wears in his old age. Throughout, an elusive, colorful blue butterfly helps steer Cassi through the chaos. In an afterword, Stuart explains that his own father suffered from dementia, and that his goal with Cassi and the House of Memories “was to make a story about connecting.” Cassi learns to appreciate the many dreams, disappointments and events of her grandfather’s life—aspects such as his musical talent—and even manages to alter a past tragedy during an action-packed circus episode. Cassi and the House of Memories is a moving depiction of a grandparent and grandchild’s enduring love and continued understanding in the face of dementia.

Cassi and the House of Memories is a moving depiction of a grandparent and grandchild’s enduring love and continued understanding in the face of dementia.
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STARRED REVIEW
February 6, 2025

3 picture books illuminating remarkable lives

These portraits of greatness illuminate the lives of brilliant Black artists, showing young readers a few sets of footsteps they might follow.
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And She Was Loved: Toni Morrison’s Life in Stories features the teamwork of two award-winners at the top of their game: writer Andrea Davis Pinkney and Caldecott Honoree Daniel Minter. The result of their collaboration is a truly exquisite picture book that, as Pinkney explains in her author’s note, is “a love letter to an outspoken sparrow” whose writing changed the lives of many, including Pinkney herself, who struggled in school and had a hard time identifying with classroom reading lists until “like a glistening key that unlocked my soul’s need to see myself, Toni Morrison’s storytelling came into my life.”

Both the author’s and illustrator’s passion for their subject shines on every page, providing young readers with an inspiring introduction to Morrison’s life and works, urging them to use their own imaginations and “make your mark on the tar. Stitch your story.” Readers learn how Morrison, born Chloe Ardelia Wofford, based her debut novel on her childhood in Lorain, Ohio, and how she wrote before dawn as a young mother. A timeline provides additional helpful details.

Minter’s art does justice to this literary star, conveying Morrison’s energy, magic and inspiration in a variety of bright, glowing palettes, beautifully melding biographical facts in illustrations such as that of the home Morrison grew up in, or a gorgeous childhood portrait referencing The Bluest Eye, with the spiritual effect of her presence and accomplishments. In a particularly informative, fascinating artist’s note, Minter aptly calls the book “a praise poem,” while directly addressing the late author to “look closely at the lines, because some of them might resemble characters that could have lived in your novels.”

While several excellent children’s biographies of Morrison already exist, And She Was Loved is a welcome addition, bound to be treasured, just like the author herself.

While several excellent children’s biographies of Toni Morrison already exist, And She Was Loved is a welcome addition, bound to be treasured, just like the author herself.
Review by

Go Tell It: How James Baldwin Became a Writer is exceptional, a master class of a picture book biography overflowing with energy-infused words and pictures. Quartez Harris is a compelling storyteller, summarizing Baldwin’s early life in evocative scenes, especially his struggles with his fury-filled preacher stepfather. Harris describes, for instance, how Baldwin wrote Go Tell It on the Mountain: “As he typed, his fingers dug into his Harlem childhood and the old church songs he sang in the pews of his past. Then he pounded his typewriter like an organ thundering from a storefront church.”

The atmospheric illustrations by Caldecott honoree Gordon C. James draw young readers right into James Baldwin’s world, showing, for example, how Baldwin traversed the streets of Harlem, seeing words everywhere. On one spread, Baldwin walks amid jump-roping children and chatting bystanders, the scene covered with words swirling through the young man’s head. Later, similarly styled words surround Baldwin’s typewriter as he begins to write his first novel.

A thoughtful afterword further explains Baldwin’s accomplishments, which is especially helpful for young readers not yet ready for his writing. Go Tell It is an inspiring look at one of America’s most important writers.

Go Tell It is an inspiring look at one of America’s most important writers.
Review by

Dream a Dress, Dream a Poem: Dressmaker and Poet, Myra Viola Wilds introduces young readers to Myra Viola Wilds, a Kentucky woman who lived during the Jim Crow era and left her home in the hills for “the city” to become a dressmaker. Eventually, she lost her vision—which the book attributes to eyestrain—and then became a poet. Although biographical details are sparse, Wilds is an admirable, intriguing creator.

Nancy Johnson James tells Wilds’ story in verse, highlighting historical notes in an afterword. She focuses on Wilds’ unending creativity, urging readers to follow her example: “Dream a dream when you struggle, between a painful past and a hopeful tomorrow. Remember when light began to fade, Myra’s art could still be made.”

Diana Ejaita’s fanciful artwork steals the show here. Bold patterns and colors fill each page, reminiscent of Matisse’s splashy shapes. She also uses linework to evoke the weave and intricate stitchwork of the dresses Wilds made. She skillfully introduces the color black into the illustrations to portray Wilds’ descent into blindness.

Dream a Dress, Dream a Poem offers a world of inspiration for young creators of many kinds.

Dream a Dress, Dream a Poem offers a world of inspiration for young creators of many kinds.

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Recent Features

These portraits of greatness illuminate the lives of brilliant Black artists, showing young readers a few sets of footsteps they might follow.
Review by

Before reading To Walk the Sky: How Iroquois Steelworkers Helped Build Towering Cities, readers may not know about the first Mohawk skywalkers: Native American and Canadian First Nations steelworkers whose skill and fearlessness built many engineering landmarks that stand today, such as the Empire State Building and the Golden Gate Bridge. To Walk the Sky is a beautiful peek at the history and ongoing story of these brave and determined men.

Written by Patricia Morris Buckley, herself the descendant of a Quebec Bridge Mohawk skywalker, To Walk the Sky is full of history and information, recounting events such as the 1907 collapse of the Quebec Bridge, which killed 75 workers. While Buckley’s language is significantly more sophisticated than that of many picture books, she narrates like a storyteller and not a textbook. Buckley doesn’t shy away from the struggles, risk and devastation the skywalkers faced throughout the decades, but neither does she dwell on sadness. Matter-of-fact and serious, but with moments of poetry, Buckley’s writing rings with pride and hope for the legacy of these courageous workers. Closing out with the author’s own family history and glossary as well as material on the Quebec Bridge and the Mohawk people, To Walk the Sky provides not only an engaging story, but also a tribute and an education all in one.

Each thoughtful, evocative image from illustrator E.B. Lewis rings with pride and respect. Lewis’ soft watercolor images capture historical moments and current events with equal skill. Watercolor is the perfect medium for this topic, giving plenty of detail, but with a slightly blurred and timeless aura. Similarly, most of Lewis’ characters have vague features, reminding us how often these workers go unrecognized, fading into history. Lewis uses various perspectives to bring readers into this world. We look up at a blue sky crisscrossed by steel beams, and stand behind grieving widows in the aftermath of the Quebec Bridge disaster. We sit across from skywalkers, in imitation of the famous “Lunch atop a Skyscraper” photograph of workers eating as they sit on top of a steel beam during the construction of 30 Rockefeller Plaza in Manhattan. And we find ourselves in a haze of yellow, among the ruins of 9/11, an image that is both familiar and visceral.

To Walk the Sky is marketed for young audiences, though it is a little lengthier than your traditional children’s storytime book. However, this book will find a home in nearly every age group and setting, from families of steelworkers and proud descendants of the brave skywalkers, to middle grade students learning about Native American history. Above all, one hopes To Walk the Sky will find those imaginative little ones with their own big dreams of building something incredible.

To Walk the Sky will find a receptive audience in nearly every age group and setting, from families of steelworkers and proud descendants of the brave skywalkers, to middle grade students learning about Native American history.

Although she’s just a kid, Cecilia has two full-time jobs: elementary school student, and interpreter for her Spanish-speaking parents. 

In her picture book debut, The Interpreter, Olivia Abtahi (Twin Flames) has crafted an empathetic, gently humorous look at what it’s like to be a go-to translator in immigrant and/or multilingual families. Fittingly, The Interpreter is itself a multilingual book: cleverly conceived watercolor and pencil-crayon artwork by Monica Arnaldo (The Museum of Very Bad Smells) separates out languages by color. Orange word bubbles are for Spanish, blue for English and pink for Farsi when Cecilia’s family encounters another kid-interpreter.

Cecilia’s life has become overwhelmingly blue and orange, to her and her friends’ consternation. She’s a plucky, considerate child who beams when her mom says, “What would I do without you?” But while it’s rewarding to explain her sibling’s medical treatments, ensure the hairdresser doesn’t cut mom’s hair too short, and assist dad with his driver’s license photo (“No smiling. / Sin sonrisa.”), it’s also exhausting. 

Not surprisingly, when a perceptive teacher inquires how she—just her, not her family—is doing, Cecilia loses her cool and releases her bottled-up frustration in a gloriously explosive double-page-spread: “I don’t want to run errands every day and wait at the DMV! I want to be outside, I want to play soccer . . . I want, I want, I want.” Her parents are shocked at her outburst, and then shocked at how Cecilia’s calendar has been overtaken by interpreting without their realizing. “I want to help,” Cecilia says,. “just not all the time.”

Abtahi does a stellar job of introducing the concepts of boundaries, self-advocacy and work-life balance while cautioning readers that being super-accommodating might result in being taken advantage of or overburdened, even by those who care about us. But asking for and accepting help can make things better for all involved: By the book’s happy end, Cecilia’s aunt and brother are pitching in with interpreting, she’s back to playing with friends and everybody is smiling—especially Cecilia.

 

Olivia Abtahi does a stellar job of introducing the concept of boundaries, while cautioning readers that being super-accommodating might result in being overburdened, even by those who care about us.

Here is a sweet book for February—and every month of the year besides. This heartwarming celebration of the friendship between a baby on the cusp of becoming a toddler and her beloved feline marks the debut of talented author-illustrator Anden Wilder.

Scamp begins quite simply: “Scamp’s house had two cats: one black and one pink.” The text appears opposite the illustration of a plump black cat named Hector and a baby called Scamp in bright pink striped pajamas, the two sitting side by side. Scamp’s perky black pigtails do make her look like a cat, as does her ability to mirror Hector. Baby and feline stick out their tongues, lick themselves, claw at the couch and cuddle close. However, much to Scamp’s surprise, one morning she discovers she can stand up in her crib. Later, she pulls herself up to stand on two feet beside the coffee table. The wonders continue: At dinner, Scamp picks up her spoon! “Scamp was pretty sure cats didn’t hold spoons.” Scamp ends the day enjoying her bath as her perplexed companion looks on.

One of the special delights of the story is the complete absence of adults: Scamp and Hector are alone in their world. After this exhausting day, the two curl up in Hector’s cat bed. But Scamp later awakens to find Hector gone. After a fruitless search, she uses her newfound abilities to climb onto the couch and gaze out the window. And there is Hector, about to be caught in a rainstorm! Knowing that cats hate the rain, brave Scamp finds an inventive solution, and soon she and Hector are united once more. In the end, Scamp knows that while human, she still can play at being a cat whenever she wants—and she’ll always be a cat person at heart.

Wilder’s delightful text pairs perfectly with illustrations done in gouache, watercolor and colored pencils. Hector and Scamp, rendered in similar poses, grace hot pink endpapers. With its subtle humor and whiff of nostalgia about the inevitable passage of time, Scamp is likely to be kept on the shelf for years to come.

With its subtle humor and whiff of nostalgia about the inevitable passage of time, Scamp is likely to be kept on the shelf for years to come.

Throughout Ajay Anthonipillai’s life thus far, he’s dutifully adhered to his Sri Lankan parents’ rules. Their 16-item list, displayed at the end of Maria Marianayagam’s winning and inventive No Purchase Necessary, includes things like “Straight As only,” “No friendships with the opposite sex” and “No working while you’re in school.”

Alas, ever since Ajay started eighth grade at Bridge Creek Middle School, he’s been struggling. At his previous school, kids called him “Obnoxious Ajay” because of his relentless academic competitiveness. Now that he’s grown up a bit, he’s more interested in making friends than viewing classmates as rivals, but he’s unsure how to go about it. So, when popular bully Jacob Underson hints they’ll become buddies if Ajay steals a Mercury bar from Al’s convenience store, Ajay shocks himself by actually doing it . . . only for Jacob to laughingly reject his offering, leaving him defeated and guilty. “How was this my life? What made me so unlikable? This year was supposed to be a fresh start.”

Adding to Ajay’s misery, he gets a 79% in language arts class and lies to his parents about it, drawing his sister Aarthi’s disapproval. A classmate, Mandy, seems friendly, but he’s nervous around her, and she gets better language arts grades (old habits die hard). And that chocolate bar, sold during a 25th anniversary promotion? It’s the winner of Mercury’s million-dollar grand prize. But how can he—legally, morally—claim a prize from stolen candy?

Ajay secretly gets a job at Al’s so he can destroy evidence of his crime. But as he gets to know Al while contending with a cascade of ethical dilemmas, his guilt intensifies, not least because his family could really use that money. Is there any way to cash in without betraying everything they’ve worked for?

No Purchase Necessary is an entertaining, thought-provoking read rife with suspenseful twists and turns and well-drawn characters, and enlivened by the witty, appealing voice of its protagonist. Marianayagam perfectly captures the emotional, social and moral minefields of middle school, and will have readers rooting for Ajay to find happiness as he figures out which rules serve him—and which are meant to be broken.

No Purchase Necessary is an entertaining, thought-provoking read rife with suspenseful twists and turns and well-drawn characters, and enlivened by the witty, appealing voice of its protagonist.
Review by

Go Tell It: How James Baldwin Became a Writer is exceptional, a master class of a picture book biography overflowing with energy-infused words and pictures. Quartez Harris is a compelling storyteller, summarizing Baldwin’s early life in evocative scenes, especially his struggles with his fury-filled preacher stepfather. Harris describes, for instance, how Baldwin wrote Go Tell It on the Mountain: “As he typed, his fingers dug into his Harlem childhood and the old church songs he sang in the pews of his past. Then he pounded his typewriter like an organ thundering from a storefront church.”

The atmospheric illustrations by Caldecott honoree Gordon C. James draw young readers right into James Baldwin’s world, showing, for example, how Baldwin traversed the streets of Harlem, seeing words everywhere. On one spread, Baldwin walks amid jump-roping children and chatting bystanders, the scene covered with words swirling through the young man’s head. Later, similarly styled words surround Baldwin’s typewriter as he begins to write his first novel.

A thoughtful afterword further explains Baldwin’s accomplishments, which is especially helpful for young readers not yet ready for his writing. Go Tell It is an inspiring look at one of America’s most important writers.

Go Tell It is an inspiring look at one of America’s most important writers.
Review by

Amber can’t contain her feelings for Nico any longer. They’ve been best friends for years, and though part of her wishes they could go back to easy conversations, nights playing video games and chill hangouts with friends, she can’t hold back how she really feels. So during their eighth grade beach trip, she confesses—and he says he reciprocates! But as the new couple jumps headfirst into romance, they find that relationships can be complicated, especially when it comes to first loves, changing friendships and, of course, high school.

Dreamover is a charming and surreal exploration of young love set during the early days of the internet, when teenagers still spent their summers at the beach and talked all night over instant messaging. Filled with charming illustrations that emphasize the youthfulness of its characters, this graphic novel brings readers back to the thrill, confusion and emotion of growing up.

In many ways, Dreamover is light and silly. Its characters get into good-hearted mischief, playing games, having sleepovers and teasing each other about their crushes. But the story isn’t afraid to step into the angst and confusion of teenhood, speaking to serious issues like jealousy, bullying and growing apart from old friends. The story centers on characters who are easy to feel for, like Nico, who’s teased for his relationship with Amber, and Drew, who starts feeling left out of their trio as Nico and Amber draw closer together. Readers are bound to see themselves—or their younger selves—in these characters as they ride the waves of love and friendship.

As Nico and Amber see how their relationship impacts other people in their lives, they must learn to decide what they value—and how they can maintain what matters even as the world and the people around them are changing. Perfect for those who are grown up and those who are still growing up, Dreamover is a nostalgic and thought-provoking experience.

Perfect for those who are grown up and those who are still growing up, Dreamover is a nostalgic and thought-provoking experience.

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