Isaac Fitch’s family aren’t big Buckeyes fans. Their house doesn’t have an Ohio State flag waving above the front door, and Isaac doesn’t bleed scarlet and gray like the other 6th graders in his small Ohio town. But rooting for the wrong team is not his only problem.  

His mom is far away, working in China, his best friend has stopped talking to him and he has idiopathic angioedema, a condition that can make his hands swell like sausages and can cover his entire body in red welts at a moment’s notice. Kids at school are less than understanding and give him the nickname “Itch.”   

Despite all this, Isaac goes to great lengths to be accepted. His extreme attempts to make and keep friends underscores the very human need to be part of something bigger than ourselves. But the reckoning Isaac faces in Itch goes beyond the need to be accepted. He must face who he really is and who he wants to be—a tall order for any 12-year-old.

Author Polly Farquhar, who has also been diagnosed with idiopathic angioedema, perfectly depicts Isaac’s experiences. She also artfully conveys the familiar milieu of the 6th grade social order and the difficulties Isaac has in navigating it. The desire to fit in is a theme that will resonate with readers of any age. Isaac’s endearing personality, coupled with Farquar’s strong pacing and distinctive spin on a familiar narrative, will leave readers eager for more books from this debut author.

In order to get out of the nightmare that is her sixth grade lunch period, April takes on the job of Bench Buddy for fourth grade recess, watching over the playground and encouraging conversation and participation. It isn’t long before she notices Joey Byrd, a loner who spends the recess period dragging his feet through the dirt or laying on his back with his eyes closed.

Curious, April talks to Joey, and he eventually divulges that he is making what he calls “spirals of sadness” and other land art with his feet. Land art, April learns, is art made using natural and often “found” materials, such as soil, rocks and plants. It’s usually created on a large scale and best viewed from a high vantage point. As her friendship with Joey grows, April gains an appreciation for what life looks like through Joey’s eyes.

Shelley Pearsall puts upper elementary and middle school life into perspective in Things Seen From Above, a sweet and kindhearted story. As readers make their way through the book’s alternating points of view, with April’s chapters narrated in text and Joey’s primarily in images, they will love seeing Joey’s world unfold right alongside April. A fascinating author’s note reveals that Joey’s character is based on a member of Pearsall’s own family.

Things Seen From Above offers a creative introduction to a unique art form and an appealing story about learning to fit in to a crowd that’s still learning what fitting in truly means.

Ware’s parents have decided this is the summer they’re going to work overtime and save up enough money to buy a house. But just when 11-year-old Ware settles into a routine with his grandmother who’s caring for him, she suffers a fall—and Plan B is the dreaded Rec Camp, complete with fitness drills, peppy chants and stifling “art” projects. Creative, introverted Ware doesn’t need any more reminders that he’s not a “normal kid,” so when he spots a chance to escape, he jumps a fence and lands in a vacant lot, the remnants of a demolished church.

There Ware encounters Jolene, a tough-as-nails girl with an ambition to grow her own forest of papaya plants. When they look at the ruins of the lot, Jolene sees a garden and Ware sees a castle, but the adults around them only see a strip mall. Jolene, who’s seen enough of life to become jaded, is convinced their project is doomed. But Ware, ever optimistic, hatches a plan to try and save this special place.

Sara Pennypacker’s latest novel is a tender celebration of the quirks that make each person different. In an era when many young people are finding their voices as activists, Here in the Real World is also a hopeful account of collective social action. As Ware says, “I don’t want things to be magically what they’re not. I want them to be what they could be. And somebody has to want that, or nothing bad will ever get better.” True to the book’s title, Pennypacker doesn’t impose a fairy-tale ending on Ware’s story—but she does lovingly honor the beauty found in the people and places that too often go overlooked.

Crickets, anyone?

During the summer after seventh grade, Mia Barnes and her parents move from Boston to Vermont to be near her Gram, a retired entomology professor who is recovering from a stroke and running her own business, Green Mountain Cricket Farm. After a series of alarming mishaps, Mia becomes convinced that someone is trying to sabotage the farm, so she and some new friends decide to track down the culprit. Fascinating details about cricket farming (think Thai cricket pizza and chocolate chirp cookies) dovetail nicely with Mia’s mystery, which grows increasingly urgent as it threatens to destroy Gram’s beloved enterprise.

Chirp, Kate Messner’s latest middle grade novel, is a delightful hodgepodge of a book. It’s expertly organized and seamlessly pulls together a variety of intriguing themes in a truly organic way. Mia, like Gram, is also recovering, having badly broken her arm during a gymnastics competition. And she’s nursing an even more invasive, invisible wound that she hasn’t told anyone about: Phil, one of her gymnastic coaches, touched her inappropriately on several occasions, repeatedly holding her too close and too long, as well as texting her to ask for a photo. This disturbing experience has robbed Mia of her confidence and forced her into the habit of trying to remain invisible. Even though Phil is no longer a threat, she realizes, “Once you got in the habit of being small, it was hard to feel safe being your normal size anymore.”

ALSO IN BOOKPAGE: Read our Q&A with Chirp author Kate Messner.

At her parents’ insistence, Mia enrolls in two summer camps, one for her body (a ninja warrior-style camp) and one for her brain (a young entrepreneurs program). Warrior Camp helps Mia regain her mental confidence and physical strength, while Launch Camp gives Mia innovative ideas about how to make Gram’s cricket farm a success. In Messner’s skilled hands, even business camp becomes exciting, and her sensitive, subtle prose beautifully captures Mia’s thoughts, feelings and actions.

For readers who haven’t experienced anything like what Phil does to Mia, Chirp is an excellent introduction to the difficult but necessary subject, and to the warning signs that are sometimes present. For readers who can personally relate to Mia’s experience, Chirp could well be a lifesaver. Mia eventually finds the courage to tell an understanding adult about her trauma; soon after, she also informs her mother about Phil’s behavior, which launches an investigation. Chockfull of strong female role models, Chirp is a riveting middle grade novel of empowerment that deftly tackles a delicate, imperative subject. Crickets may chirp, but readers will be ready to roar.

Stonewall and Lambda Literary Award-winning author Kacen Callender brings their contemporary, lyrical style to a middle grade novel about grief and love in King and the Dragonflies.

King’s big brother, Khalid, has died tragically at just 16 years old, and the doctors can give his family no explanation as to why. King’s parents are frozen with sadness, and his friends don’t know what to say to him. But King knows something that all of them don’t: Khalid is not gone. He has simply changed forms. He has become a dragonfly, just like in the dreams Khalid used to tell King about.

King spends his afternoons alone down at the bayou, trying to spot Khalid among the hundreds of glittering wings, but soon he finds he can’t hide away from the world forever. King begins to realize that he will have to face not just the reality of life without his brother but also the truth of his own identity, no matter what anyone else may think.

Callender’s second middle grade novel feels raw and authentic. It doesn’t shy away from addressing weighty themes of grief, identity and racism in a small community. Callender writes with honesty but also with kindness and strikes the difficult but necessary balance between the two perfectly. Readers will root for King on his journey toward accepting both his circumstances and himself. King and the Dragonflies is a story infused with hope that flutters and glitters all around, like so many dragonfly wings.

Everything is going so well. One final audition and Amelia Jones will finally be accepted into the Mystwick School of Musicraft, just like her mother before her. Until Amelia is delayed and finds herself running late for the audition. And then she accidentally sets her dress on fire. And then she misses just a couple of notes in her growth spell and makes the Maestro’s mustache grow down to his waist. In The Mystwick School of Musicraft, the debut middle grade novel by Jessica Khoury, Amelia knows her dream is dead, her last connection to her mother severed—until her acceptance letter arrives.

Khoury builds a world where music and magic are intertwined, in which a well-played song can charm a chicken and a professional orchestra can dissipate a tornado. Anyone can learn simple songs and tiny charms, but it takes a special school like Mystwick to train musicians to be Maestros, to teach them the music that can mold, shape and change the world, and to understand just how dangerous, even deadly, musical spells can be. Despite this extraordinary environment, Amelia experiences the same uncertainties and insecurities as anyone who has ever stretched outside of their comfort zone.

Written in the tradition of other magical school stories such as Harry Potter and The School for Good and Evil, The Mystwick School of Musicraft quickly finds its own melody as it deals with family relationships, loss, unlikely friendships and even more unlikely allies. Through her fast-paced and effortless writing, Khoury has created an imaginary world that readers will want to revisit.

Life isn’t easy for anyone on a farm in the nation’s heartland in the 1940s, but it’s especially hard for Pixie, the spunky heroine of Tamara Bundy’s Pixie Pushes On. Pixie’s mother has died, and her sister has contracted polio and been taken to a hospital. Pixie blames herself for these tragedies and struggles to cope with her family’s losses. 

Unfortunately, Pixie’s school life isn’t much better than what waits for her at home, and she finds it hard to feel thankful—even on Thanksgiving, when she’s not allowed to visit her beloved sister in the hospital. Life seems to have handed Pixie a raw deal.

Things come into perspective, though, when a baby lamb, Buster, joins the farm, and Pixie is charged with his care. As her Granddaddy says, “Every day’s a lesson in beginnings and endings.” Pixie learns compassion and understanding as she pushes on through her pain and learns to laugh and find joy again.

Amid the tough farm work, Pixie’s family is her guiding force, and neighbors who’ve also experienced loss help open her heart. Glimpses into life during wartime—iron lungs, back-breaking work, war rations and doing without—make this a poignant piece of historical fiction for young readers.

Pixie Pushes On is a touching story of love, loss and learning about the world beyond your own backyard. 

Middle schoolers have a lot to deal with, from bullies to burgeoning hormones, on top of their homework. Throw in a supernatural ability to detect monsters, and you’ve got a real recipe for mayhem.

As though seventh grader Nizhoni Begay’s strange reality couldn’t get any weirder, her dad’s new boss, Mr. Charles, has started to show unsettling interest in her and her brother, Mac—and in their family’s Navajo heritage. After their father suddenly disappears, Mac and Nizhoni, along with her best friend, Davery, find themselves on the run. It will take all of their knowledge of Navajo legends, not to mention every ounce of their courage, to find Nizhoni’s father and save their world from the ancient creatures Mr. Charles has unleashed.

Nebula and Hugo Award-winning author Rebecca Roanhorse (Trail of Lightning) adds to the increasingly diverse roster of Rick Riordan’s eponymous imprint with Race to the Sun. Native American myth and lore take center stage in this story, supported by action and adventure that will keep readers turning pages as they anxiously anticipate the outcome of Nizhoni’s thrilling quest. It’s populated with quirky characters reminiscent of Riordan’s own stories, so every reader will find someone to connect with in this novel.

Through its incorporation of important aspects of Native American beliefs and culture, including protecting the natural world and honoring family, Race to the Sun adds vital and long-overdue positive representation of contemporary Native Americans to young readers’ shelves.

On her 12th birthday, just after her “dream birthday party” at a local bakery, Zoe Washington gets an unexpected letter from the father she’s never met. Marcus Johnson has long been in prison for the murder of a young woman who had been a friend of his. Zoe knows her mother and stepfather wouldn’t approve, but she secretly begins writing back in From the Desk of Zoe Washington, Janae Marks’ engaging debut.

Zoe’s instincts prove right, because it turns out that Marcus has been writing to Zoe for years, and her mother has been intercepting his communications. Immediately intrigued, Zoe is surprised at how kind, smart and concerned her father seems; he calls her “Little Tomato” after a jazz song and sends her a playlist of his favorite songs. Eventually, Zoe inquires about his crime, and Marcus declares his innocence, claiming that his public defender never bothered to track down an alibi that would have exonerated him.

Zoe finds a helpful ally in her maternal grandmother, who remembers Marcus and thinks “he is a good person at heart.” Grandma believes that Marcus and Zoe have a right to communicate, so she offers to serve as an adult intermediary. Their allegiance is warm and believable; it’s particularly touching when Grandma facilitates Zoe’s first phone conversation with her father.

Unbeknownst to her grandmother, Zoe is determined to track down Marcus’ alibi, and the uncertainty of her quest—along with Marks’ crisp writing and Zoe’s likable first-person narration—makes for page-turning reading. The resolution of Zoe’s investigation comes a bit too easily, but her gradual awakening to the problem of racial injustice for black people like Marcus serves as an excellent introduction for young readers to the pervasive issue.

Marks also includes parallel narratives that help round out the plot, such as Zoe’s desire to enter a “Kids Bake Challenge!” on the Food Network and a misunderstanding between Zoe and her next-door neighbor, Trevor, who aids Zoe in her sleuthing. Zoe and Trevor’s friendship troubles offer valuable insights into how easily relationships can be unintentionally damaged.

Never heavy-handed, Marks’ prose is as sweet as one of Zoe’s confections. And as the icing on the cake, From the Desk of Zoe Washington imparts important lessons about judging other people, whether by the color of their skin or by their presumed guilt or innocence.