How do you deal with a beloved parent who repeatedly fails you? That’s the question facing 11-year-old Alice Mistlethwaite in Natasha Farrant’s adventurous tale for middle grade readers, A Talent for Trouble. 

Alice’s adoring mother dies, and her animated but n’er-do-well father is largely absent, prompting her Aunt Patience to sell the family estate and send Alice off to Stormy Loch Academy in the wilds of Scotland. Of her bookish, solitary niece who is always writing stories, Patience says, “She needs a new story—not to write, to live.”

Indeed, Alice finds just that, in a setup reminiscent of Harry Potter, complete with a wee hint of magic. There’s a lonely train ride to a new school; a patient, all-knowing headmaster (a collector of “lost souls” and “waifs”); and a trio of new friends who slowly discover their own talents and power for friendship. Alice is thrown together with athletic Jesse and genius Fergus as they enter the school’s Great Orienteering Challenge, using it as an excuse to embark on their own dangerous mission. The story really takes off when the three students set out on their secret quest to meet Alice’s father, Barney Mistlethwaite, who seems to be in trouble. Their adventure results in a memorable showdown.

British author Farrant keeps the tone jaunty and light, often addressing readers directly with both warnings and reassurances. Amid great danger and excitement, Alice learns to stand up for herself and confront her father’s neglect. An old-fashioned tale that tackles a timeless concern, A Talent for Trouble is full of daring exploits and essential lessons.

Sharelle Byars Moranville, author of the critically acclaimed middle grade novel 27 Magic Words, pens a complicated family story set against an idyllic backdrop.

Rose Lovell adores her life on her family’s farm. Although her mother, Iris, left when Rose was just a baby, Rose has never wanted for anything. All she needs to feel content is her beloved grandmother, Ama; their dog, Myrtle; and the natural wonders of the countryside right outside her door.

So when her mother mysteriously shows back up at Ama’s birthday party, Rose is less than pleased. In fact, she’s terrified that Iris’ presence will anger Ama and fracture the perfect bond she shares with Rose. All Rose wants is for Iris to leave as quickly as she came. But life on the Lovell farm was not as blissful for previous generations as it is for Rose, and Rose’s mother has some family secrets to share with her daughter that may change everything, whether Rose likes it or not.

Equal parts heart-swelling and heartbreaking, Surprise Lily is a multigenerational family saga full of language that perfectly evokes the many wonders of the natural world. The narrative spans decades, allowing readers to form attachments to each of the Lovell girls as they experience their stories firsthand. The story touches on the highs and lows of the Lovells as a family and of each Lovell girl individually, exploring subjects such as parental neglect and mental health with sympathy and care. The relationships between the girls and women of the Lovell family are the novel’s heartbeats, and though some are more whole than others, love and hope connect them all.

Eleven-year-old Carter and his older sister, 13-year-old Grace, arrive for a day hike at Blood Mountain with their father and their dog, Sitka. They seem well prepared, as though they’ve hiked together many times before.

However, the family don’t know that they’re not alone on the mountain. Sharing the terrain is a park ranger named Makayla and a nameless man who’s been living in the wilderness, hiding from society, having withdrawn from human contact for so long that speaking feels unnatural to him. These characters provoke the reader’s curiosity as to when and how their paths will cross.

Meantime, Carter runs ahead of his father on the trail. Grace follows and joins Carter. Father, daughter and son are all heading toward the same destination, but within hours, their lack of knowledge of the route and their limited preparation for the unexpected become clear—and their hike becomes an increasingly dire matter of survival.

Author James Preller’s omniscient narrator alternates perspectives between the siblings, the mountain man and the park ranger with a chillingly spare and rhythmic cadence that keeps readers on edge, wondering what each character’s next move will bring. The setting itself exerts pressure: The mountain, the forest and all of its creatures are unyielding, beautiful and predatory.

Readers who enjoy the outdoors will tear through Blood Mountain and remember its lessons, while readers who prefer to stay inside will enjoy its suspenseful storytelling. Blood Mountain is worth diving into for its believable yet unpredictable characters, its intriguing, realistic details and a predicament that could go miraculously right or disastrously wrong.

Twelve-year-old amateur astronomer Liberty Johansen used to love watching the stars and making up new constellations with her dad. But since her parents decided to separate and her father moved out of the house, spending time with her father and the love shared between them have become relics of the past.

Now Liberty is angry all the time. She’s angry at her depressed father for living with a new girlfriend, at her former friend Leah and her classmates who have “excommunicated” her, at the pressure to find boyfriends and girlfriends and even at her steadfast mother (though Liberty isn’t sure why). The only one who seems to understand Liberty’s pain is a meteorite that fell from space when Liberty’s own sense of normalcy fell down around her, too.

In this searingly realistic novel, author Amy Sarig King explores mental illness, the trauma of divorce and their intertwined relationship. Mingled with Liberty’s anger is an overwhelming sense of loss, making her wonder whether she might be depressed or prone to depression like her father.

As spunky, resilient Liberty meets with counselors, talks (and listens!) to her meteorite and sets boundaries for herself, she learns that divorce is a kind of mourning, complete with its own stages of grief. While full acceptance might still be as far away as the cosmos, she begins to recognize her control, including how to chart her stars—and her new life—again. Through Liberty’s process, King gives young readers who are also struggling with these issues the hope to persevere.

Sometimes characters continue speaking to their creators long after their books have been published, prompting authors to write unplanned follow-ups. Grateful readers will reap ample rewards in Kate DiCamillo’s Beverly, Right Here, the last in what has unexpectedly become a middle grade trilogy, which began with Raymie Nightingale and continued in Louisiana’s Way Home, about three irrepressible girls who meet at baton-twirling lessons in Lister, Florida, in 1975.

This installment, set in 1979, features the tough-as-nails, eye-rolling Beverly Tapinski, who is now 14. Following the death of her beloved dog, Beverly decides she’s had enough of life with her drunken mother and leaves, hitching a ride to nowhere with a good-for-not-much-else cousin. A big-hearted older woman named Iola welcomes Beverly into her trailer. Beverly slowly builds an anchoring friendship not only with Iola but with bullied, brilliant Elmer, who is about to leave for Dartmouth on a full scholarship.

Life with a ragtag bunch of strangers becomes much better but is still hardly perfect as Beverly, who hates fish, ends up working in a fish restaurant and eating tuna melts every day. A tormentor named Jerome lurks on the sidelines, and Beverly desperately misses Raymie and Louisiana.

DiCamillo’s genius is her ability to create such worlds without ever sugarcoating their gritty realities. “People were terrible to other people. That was the truth,” Beverly realizes. Yet amid life’s injustices, a fish restaurant waitress repeatedly urges Beverly to always dream big, and a cook named Doris stages a sit-down strike for better working conditions.

In the end, although Beverly realizes she can’t run away from her past or her neglectful mother, she learns that she doesn’t have to be held back by either one. Instead, she can seek her own springboards to happiness. As Iola says, “Oh, I’m glad I needed you. I’m glad you needed me.”

DiCamillo has described her trilogy as being about “becoming” and “the power of community.” Drawing each girl’s story with subtle yet bold strokes, DiCamillo delivers novels that feel both beautifully spare and deeply rich. With lovely reminders of the angels who help us all find our way in this sometimes unbearable world—as well as the enduring power of stories, kindness, hope and surprising possibilities—Beverly, Right Here completes DiCamillo’s superb trilogy, which is destined to remain a classic.

When the school bell rings and students race for the doors, where do they go? What do they do? In each of the 10 short stories that compose Look Both Ways: A Tale Told in Ten Blocks, the reader follows a different student to see what they get up to on their way home. 

In “The Low Cuts Strike Again,” Bit, Francy, John John and Trista are the kids whom teachers talk about in the teachers’ lounge—“at-risk” kids who swipe loose change wherever they might find it. The Low Cuts, as the four call themselves, have something in common: their almost-bald heads, a haircut chosen in solidarity with each other and with their parents, all cancer survivors. And it’s what they do with all that loose change that shows another side of the label of “at-risk.” 

In the lead story, “Water, Booger, Bears,” Jasmine and TJ challenge those who think “boys and girls can’t just be friends.” Other stories portray protagonists dealing with bullying, falling in love and struggling with anxiety. 

Jason Reynolds affords loving attention to each of the characters in his large cast. Despite simple-seeming prose, his language sparkles. He writes of the Low Cuts, “Even though they were tight on time, they were loose on talk” and, “Bit put a pothole in the middle of memory lane.” Along with his previous novels, written in prose, verse and dual voices, these short stories demonstrate Reynolds’ range of superb storytelling.