Rufus the great horned owl is the self-declared “worst owl in the history of owldom.” Next to his fledgling sister, First, 6-month-old Rufus feels like a runt. An unsuccessful, can’t-hunt-to-save-his-life runt. When Rufus’ mother is captured by humans while First is away from their nest, Rufus is left alone, afraid and unprotected against the unknown dangers of the night.

Reenie is far from thrilled to go live with her “alleged aunt” Bea, whom she’s never met, while her mother undergoes psychiatric treatment—until she learns that Bea is a falconer. As Bea raises a hawk and begins planning for passage bird season, Reenie is entranced and begins learning all she can about the fascinating sport.

Rufus’ and Reenie’s stories intersect when Rufus—cold, injured and sick—is ensnared in Bea’s live trap. Bea and Reenie take Rufus in to rehabilitate him, but Reenie soon develops an attachment to him that cannot last, because the goal of rehabilitation is to release the animal back in its habitat. Besides, Reenie has learned the hard way that attachments are usually temporary.

Reenie and Rufus narrate Of a Feather in chapters that alternate between their perspectives. The format is a smart choice by author Dayna Lorentz that easily allows readers to see the parallels in their situations. They’re both lost, missing their mothers and seeking the reassurance and validation they need to be able to soar on their own wings. Reenie longs to make friends, but is afraid of the vulnerability that comes with opening up. Rufus is torn between the ease of living with humans and returning to the wild to find both his mother and his higher purpose.

Author Dayna Lorentz is no stranger to writing about animal-human relationships; her previous books include the Dogs of the Drowned City trilogy, written from the perspective of a dog separated from his family in the aftermath of a hurricane. Her deep research into the world of falconry and bird rehabilitation are present on every page as she conveys the exhilarating rush of working with incredible birds of prey. Though readers will pick up quite a bit of information by reading the story itself, significant back matter provides even more fuel for curiosity and discovery.

Of a Feather’s wonderful balance of nature-driven narrative and emotional storytelling will appeal to readers who love the great outdoors as well as those who prefer to stay inside with a good book.

Things are not going well for Amari Peters. Her scholarship to tony Jefferson Academy is being revoked on the last day of school because she shoved a classmate after being subjected to continuous bullying. And as if she didn’t have enough to worry about, her older brother, Quinton, has been missing for six months after starting a secret job. The police have stopped looking for him, assuming he was involved in illegal activities and met an unfortunate end, but Amari refuses to give up.

So much more awaits Amari in debut author B.B. Alston’s lively fantasy adventure, Amari and the Night Brothers. She is soon whisked away to tryouts at the Bureau of Supernatural Affairs, the top-secret agency where her brother once flourished. To become a Junior Agent, Amari must pass three quests, and she plans to investigate what’s become of Quinton as she does so.

Alston maintains a rapid pace as he creates a magical world full of dangers that lurk around every corner and drops delectable details with obvious delight. Fantasy readers will love watching Amari master illusions and spells and discover the “truth” about creatures like leprechauns, dragons and the abominable snowman.

There’s a whole world of misunderstanding out there, and sadly, Amari’s new school isn’t much different from Jefferson Academy. It’s also filled with privileged, bullying classmates who are intimidated by Amari’s intelligence. Thankfully, she makes a few trusted friends, including Dylan, whose twin sister becomes Amari’s archrival and whose older sister disappeared with Quinton. Amari’s reaction to an instructor who tells her he’s never seen “a worse prospect” for the Bureau encapsulates her determination: “I’m tired of being underestimated,” she retorts. “You’re wrong about me.”

Fans of blockbuster middle grade fantasy sagas will adore this empowering, action-packed series opener featuring a confident Black heroine who is just beginning to discover her own gifts.

Reha, an Indian American girl, narrates Rajani LaRocca’s Red, White, and Whole in first-person free verse as she navigates what she describes as “two lives. / One that is Indian, / one that is not.”

It’s 1983 and Reha, an only child, is in middle school. The differences between her two cultures—the American culture she experiences at school and the Indian culture that surrounds her at home—make her feel like she’s being pulled in opposite directions with more force than ever. But Reha adores her parents and doesn’t want to disappoint them. She studies hard and tries not to complain about feeling different. She intends to be a doctor when she grows up, even though she is afraid of blood.

When her mother, Amma, gets sick with leukemia, Reha begins to feel guilty about her secret desire to not be so different from her classmates. She bargains with God and tries to be perfect so that her mother will get better.

The poems in Red, White, and Whole are vibrant and lyrical, clear and smooth. In her first novel in verse, LaRocca (Midsummer’s Mayhem) showcases the best of what verse can do, telling a story that is spare, direct and true, every word and idea placed with intentional care. Reha’s narration shines with honest emotion, and its tenderness calls out to readers and invites them to feel what she feels at every turn.

LaRocca brilliantly incorporates references to 1980s American pop culture and traditional Indian culture. Despite how difficult it is for Reha to feel like she fully belongs anywhere, she is richer because of her access to multiple sources of wisdom and stronger because she has learned to navigate a variety of cultural norms. Reha’s friendship with Rachel, whose Jewish faith plays a similar role in her life, is a smart parallel.

Packed with evocative details of tween life in the ’80s, Red, White, and Whole is a sensitive coming-of-age story with all the makings of a new middle grade classic.

In the year 2091, millions of miles away from Earth, 11-year-old Bell and a handful of other kids are growing up on Mars. Sent there as orphaned infants, they have never known another life, another home or another family. Along with several adults, they make up the American settlement, where their days seem rather mundane, except for the fact that they live in outer space, complete with dust storms, flying meteorites, planetary rovers and algae-based food.

The settlement has very strict rules. Chief among them is, “No contact with foreign countries, ever.” Any contact with the Martian outposts from other countries is forbidden. But the red planet is a mysterious and desolate place, and, feeling isolated, the children are eager to explore. They’re never told why they can’t visit the other outposts, so they venture out and discover new challenges, but are soon discovered and reprimanded. Though they long to return to the other settlements for camaraderie, they are eventually forced to seek help when all the adults fall ill with a mysterious virus.

Holm peels back decades of secrets to expose previous relationships and disagreements between the Martian settlements while exploring the tension between independence and community. She returns often to the metaphor of a lion’s pride, which Bell discovers in a book early on in the story. In a dangerous environment, lions and perhaps humans, too, must provide and rely on communal support to survive.

Written before the COVID-19 pandemic, the isolated setting and threat of unknown illness sometimes cause The Lion of Mars to feel eerily contemporary and timely. Three-time Newbery Honor author Jennifer Holm is known for her stories of family and relationships, but this is her first venture into science fiction. Although she constructs a lived-in vision of life on a Martian outpost that will please sci-fi fans, the story she tells remains rooted in the outpost’s ad-hoc family and anchored by Bell’s down-to-Earth narrative voice.

The Lion of Mars looks past the red dust to reveal how our communities shape us just as much as our environments.

To kill the beloved protagonist of a previous book in the opening pages of a companion novel and make that death the new book’s premise would be the act of a truly brave, bold children’s author. Yet that’s exactly what Gary D. Schmidt does in Just Like That, but trust me, Schmidt knows exactly what he’s doing.

Set in 1968, Just Like That is part of an outstanding series that began with Newbery Honor recipient The Wednesday Wars and continued in Okay for Now, a finalist for the National Book Award. In structure, the books are reminiscent of Kate DiCamillo’s Raymie Nightingale trilogy. While each book can be read separately, overlapping characters and themes enrich each other in understated and often profound ways.

The series' well-deserved legions of fans will experience the gut punch of grief that engulfs Meryl Lee Kowalski, who loses her best friend and feels as though “everything in the world, absolutely everything in the world, has become a Blank.” Unable to face life at home in Hicksville, New York, she heads to the coast of Maine to begin eighth grade at a private boarding school, the prestigious St. Elene’s Preparatory Academy. In the meantime, a boy named Matt Coffin is alone and on the run from a violent past, reeling from the murder of his best friend. He slowly builds a friendship and then a budding romance with Meryl Lee, as both young teens wrestle with grief and try to find their place in the world.

Schmidt is a master at slowly creating wonderful relationships, often turning foes into friends in unexpected but believable ways. Meryl Lee initially feels lost among St. Elene’s grand, staid grounds and ultra-rich, snobby girls, but a group of students gradually allow their own strengths and friendships to emerge and blossom. St. Elene’s is run by a kind, wise leader, Dr. Nora MacKnockater, who takes both Meryl Lee and Matt under her wing.

Throughout all three books of these books, Schmidt reveals his genius for turning literary references into organic parts of his plots. In this case, Meryl Lee reads The Wizard of Oz as she and Matt try to find their way “home,” which isn’t easy since her parents are divorcing. Matt will remind readers of Charles Dickens’ Oliver Twist as he is pursued by a dangerous Fagin-like character named Leonidas Shug, an ongoing tension that builds to a dramatic conclusion. Schmidt incorporates current events into all three books, particularly the horrors of the Vietnam War, and Just Like That also features a hilarious and plot-pivotal appearance by none other than Spiro Agnew.

Just Like That takes place in Harpswell, Maine, where the writer Elizabeth Strout spent part of her childhood. Like Strout, Schmidt creates small worlds that contain the full piercing range of human nature and emotions, and he captures comedy and tragedy equally well. He writes gently but realistically about subjects including domestic violence, illness, death and grief, but his pages are also always filled with hope.

As Dr. MacKnockater tells Meryl Lee, “The world can be such an ugly place. It takes a special person, a truly accomplished person, to make it a beautiful place.” Just Like That is a riveting, award-worthy novel from a truly accomplished writer. Don’t miss it.

Though debut author Eden Royce currently lives in the United Kingdom, it’s clear she is still deeply rooted in the culture of the Gullah nation to which she belongs. Royce’s previous short stories were informed by the traditions of these descendants of enslaved people living along the coast of Georgia and the Carolinas, and her first middle grade novel is also set in this evocative milieu.

Root Magic finds the South, as well as its main characters, twins Jezebel and Jay, on the verge of some big changes. Their beloved grandmother has just died, and they’re about to turn 11. Their grandmother was a practitioner of what’s known as root magic, a rich and complex set of spells and charms passed down through generations, and it’s the twins’ turn to begin learning from their uncle Doc the knowledge that has been such a source of strength for their family.

Recently, however, root magic has also been a source of stress. An increasingly aggressive police officer has been cracking down on its practitioners, and the new girls at school mock Jezebel for her family’s practices. What’s more, Jezebel and Jay are in different grades for the first time, and Jezebel fears they’re starting to grow apart. And then there are the mysterious voices she hears calling her by the river . . .

Royce’s storytelling is atmospheric and more than a little spooky, filled with haints and boo-hags, protection charms and curses. But the novel is also set during a specific historical period—the fall of 1963—and so these supernatural elements play out against an equally vivid backdrop of real historical events, including the assassination of President John F. Kennedy, police intimidation tactics and the integration of Charleston schools.

Root Magic successfully blends mystical elements with historical ones for a novel that explores Gullah culture as well as the social upheavals of the 1960s. Readers who are easily frightened might want to read with the lights on—but if they do, they’ll discover a thoughtful story about a family taking on all obstacles, seen and unseen, together.