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.

Maisie Cannon may only be 12 years old, but she’s already found her passion in life: ballet. She’s bored by the daily monotony of school because she knows that the only lessons that will impact her future are the ones she gets at the dance studio, where she finds sanctuary amid the barres and music.

So when Maisie suffers a life-changing knee injury and must quit ballet and attend physical therapy for months in order to recover, it affects her more deeply than she or her parents anticipated. Cut off from the sheer joy of dance as well as the friends with whom she shares her passion, Maisie sinks into depression and isolation. A family trip back to her roots in the Native American Makah community may be her best chance to find a new way forward.

Christine Day’s second novel, The Sea in Winter is unflinching in its portrayal of Maisie’s depression and the effect it has on her relationships with her family and friends. Day conveys Maisie’s feelings of despair and hopelessness with gravity and sensitivity, treating her young protagonist’s emotions with the respect they deserve. Sharing Maisie’s story would be an excellent way to open a dialogue between young readers and adults about mental health.

Day’s depiction of Maisie’s deepening understanding of her family’s Native American identity and heritage is just as well done. Scenes in which Maisie’s mother and stepfather share stories of family and tribal heritage are sure to prompt young readers to learn more about their own family stories.

The Sea in Winter is a refreshing and moving story of grief and healing from one of middle grade’s brightest rising stars.

Settle in for a wintry journey in A Long Road on a Short Day, and join Samuel Hallett and his father as they set out to procure a dairy cow for Samuel’s mother on a blustery January day. This illustrated chapter book’s timeless feel makes it a wonderful choice for a cozy read-aloud.

Mindful of the coming snowstorm, Samuel’s father briskly tells his son to “Keep up” and adds, “It’s a long road on a short day.” Mr. Hallett plans to barter for the cow, and begins by offering his “best Barlow knife” to a neighboring farmer. As the day progresses, the weather becomes increasingly cold and snowy, and the titular phrase becomes a delightful refrain shared between father and son.

Unfolding in short chapters devoted to each new person with whom the Halletts strike a trade, A Long Road on a Short Day is exquisitely written by co-authors Gary D. Schmidt, a two-time Newbery Honor author and National Book Award finalist, and Elizabeth Stickney, a pseudonym for Schmidt’s late wife. The duo previously collaborated on Almost Time, a picture book about another father-son relationship. That bond is central here as well, as Samuel’s father involves his son in their mission and expresses pride after Samuel makes a difficult decision. The plot is brisk and perfectly paced, and Samuel’s spirit shines through in moments when he meets animals, including a dog and a new litter of kittens, and wishes that “it wasn’t a brown-eyed cow his mother was wanting.”

Young readers will be fascinated by the trades the Hallets make with their neighbors, which range from a book of poetry, a gold pocket watch and even a pony and cart. The traders themselves, including a wealthy widow and a doctor who has just delivered a baby, leave strong impressions despite the relatively short interactions they have with the Hallets. Eugene Yelchin’s illustrations give the book a firm anchor, warmly conveying the old-fashioned setting, while the text offers a handful of historical references, such as roads being “rolled” for the snow.

A Long Road on a Short Day offers a memorable father-son journey as well as an enthralling glimpse into the past.

The Way Past Winter quickly draws young readers into the magical world of a mysterious, frozen north, where Mila lives with her parents and her siblings, Sanna and Oskar. Their mother, who loves to spin tales of an ancient forest spirit called the Bear, dies giving birth to a baby daughter, Pípa. Five years later, devastated by grief, the children’s father walks into the snowy wilderness and isn't seen again.

Then Oskar disappears after a group of strangers visits their hut, but Mila is convinced he has not gone willingly. Mila and her sisters set out in their dog-drawn birch sleigh to track him, only to discover that other boys in the nearby town, including Sanna’s friend Geir, are missing, too. Bretta, the town’s jarl (a kind of ruler), believes the boys have been lured away by adventure and the promise of money. Most of the townsfolk agree—except for Rune, a mage, herbalist and storyteller. Rune tells Mila that Oskar and the others have been taken by the Bear, who becomes angry when trees are cut down. With no time to waste, Rune, Mila and Pípa set off on a dangerous rescue mission. To save her brother, Mila will have to muster all her courage to confront the Bear—and come to a new understanding of what it means to call the forest her home in order to guard and protect it for the future.

Author Kiran Millwood Hargrave paints her wintery world with poetic, lyrical prose. Her story’s complex magical elements never detract from the page-turning adventure and underlying themes of sibling relationships, responsibility and love of the natural world. The Way Past Winter is a winning and memorable combination of classical fantasy and a call for environmental activism.

It’s hard having three siblings. It’s even harder when they’re all the exact same age as you and all have amazing strengths and personalities. In Newbery Medalist Cynthia Kadohata’s Saucy, 11-year-old Becca doesn’t feel special, living in the shadows cast by her three quadruplet brothers. Jammer is a hockey star. Bailey creates awesome music from his electric wheelchair. K.C. is a math and science genius. But one night, while she and her family are out for their nightly walk around the neighborhood, Becca discovers something that will make her feel really and truly special.

After all, it’s not every day that an 11-year-old stumbles onto a baby pig by the side of the road, especially one covered in dirt and mange. It’s even more unexpected when Becca’s dad wraps the piglet up in his shirt (even though it ruins his shirt), and takes it to an emergency vet (even though it costs a lot of money). It’s a very sick little pig, but with medicine, care and Becca’s daily company, the little pig, dubbed Saucy, gets better.

Then Saucy begins to eat . . . everything. Fruits, vegetables, kitchen cabinets, Becca’s mom’s garden—Saucy eats, and he grows. It’s only a matter of time until Saucy will need to find a new place to live, but in the meantime, Becca is also determined to discover where her dirty, sick little pig came from in the first place.

Saucy is a tender and sweet middle grade novel with a heavy dash of slapstick comedy sure to give it strong appeal for younger middle grade readers. Just imagine one grandmother, two parents, four kids and one very large and hungry pig all living under the same roof, and you can see how humor might be the outcome. However, Kadohata also shines a light on the practice of factory farming and its very real, very unfunny impacts on the animals.

Saucy’s outsized personality and Kadohata’s well-developed cast of characters make for a lighthearted and appealing tale that contains an earnest call to action. Though Becca herself may not always feel special, the love she shows her family, her dedication to Saucy and her willingness to be brave, even when she’s scared, make her pretty special indeed.

Author Andrea Davis Pinkney and her husband, illustrator Brian Pinkney, are renowned figures in the world of children’s and young adult literature for their more than 70 books, many of which capture the African American experience throughout history. In Loretta Little Looks Back: Three Voices Go Tell It, they turn their attention to another vital story in Black history: the fight for the right to vote, viewed through the eyes of multiple generations in a single indomitable family.

Described as a “monologue novel” by the author, Loretta Little Looks Back offers readers the story of the Little family from the 1920s to the ’60s as told by Loretta, her younger brother, Roly, and Aggie B., Roly’s daughter. Each of their voices is strong and distinct, emerging with their own quirks and personalities, but there are frequent reminders that their strength is rooted in their love for and devotion to each other.

Brian Pinkney’s illustrations brim with warmth and life, providing visual representations of the sense of hope that persists among the members of the Little family. His images are evocative while leaving room for the reader’s own imagination, striking a delicate balance that complements the writing beautifully.

Rich with lived-in historic details and told in deceptively effortless, conversational prose, Loretta Little Looks Back is a reading experience to get swept up in. It’s like a time machine that takes you away from your surroundings and plants you in the lives of the Little family, whose hope and determination in the face of injustice and oppression would be inspiring at any moment in history.

Betita barely remembers the mountain in Mexico where she was born, which her family left because “bad men” hurt her uncle and would have hurt her Papi. Her life in east Los Angeles is all she knows. There’s her loving Mami and Papi, her best friend Amparo and her fourth grade teacher, Ms. Martinez, who taught her to express her feelings in “picture poems,” drawings accompanied by brief lines of verse. Papi tells Betita stories about their people, how they came from a place called Aztlán, “the land of the cranes,” but left because of a prophecy, which also says they will return to it one day.

One day, Papi doesn’t arrive to pick up Betita from school; Betita learns that he has been picked up by Immigration and Customs Enforcement and will be deported to Mexico. Soon after, Betita discovers that Mami is pregnant, which is both wonderful and scary news. It’s something else Betita feels must be protected. When Betita and her family try to go see Papi at Friendship Park in San Diego (the park spans the U.S/Mexico border, which allows those on either side to see each other), they miss their exit and accidentally drive to the border itself, where agents declare their paperwork inadequate and send them to a detention facility.

Aida Salazar’s second novel in verse is a moving portrait of a family longing for freedom and fighting to be free. Betita is an observant and sensitive narrator with a fierce heart, whose caring parents play a key role in helping her dig deep to find bravery and remain grounded, even in an environment of uncertainty, fear and cruelty. Salazar’s verse is spare, intimate and full of striking imagery, both beautiful and horrifying. Rooted in Betita’s experiences and perspective, Salazar tells an emotional, necessary story that doesn’t shy away from the harsh treatment many people, including children, experience in detention centers. Land of the Cranes issues a powerful call to recognize the struggles faced by migrants and act from an acknowledgement of our shared humanity.

The last words Nora says to her father are “I hate you.” Moments later, she watches in disbelief as a flash flood whisks her father away, down the canyon where they’re hiking. A year ago, Nora’s mother was killed in a random shooting; now she fears she has lost her father, too. Most of all, Nora wonders whether she has lost herself and her will to survive in the brutal and unforgiving Arizona desert.

Although she and her father are both knowledgeable, experienced hikers, Nora is lost and totally alone. She must face venomous snakes, scorpions, heat and thirst—and the Beast that has haunted her for the last year. As she wanders, never finding more than temporary shelter but always holding out hope of finding her father, her therapist’s voice echoes in her mind: “Focusing on what ifs helps nothing.”

Nora discovers it’s the small things that cause the most hardship. A pesky braid that won’t stay put. A mesquite bean that barely offers a calorie of sustenance. The slicing pain of a stone cutting her skin. The words we say that hurt each other. A tiny bullet that can shatter lives. Nora confronts each one, continuing to focus all her effort on her next step, driving herself onward.

The Canyon’s Edge begins and ends in prose, but the wall of water that sweeps Nora’s father away also shifts the narrative into suspenseful, propulsive free verse. It’s thrilling to witness the courage and fortitude Nora displays (not to mention sheer strength and will) as she battles the elements and learns that invisible demons can be the hardest to conquer. Her story will resonate with readers who understand that the key to survival is finding something to live for.

Even before Nazi Germany invaded in the fall of 1939, Poland was a dangerous place to be Jewish. Determined to earn a living and raise his family in safety, Esther’s father fled to Cuba, but after years spent working as a street peddler, he can only afford to bring over one family member by the winter of 1937–38. Esther convinces the family that she should be the one to go and leaves her mother, grandmother and siblings for a long and frightening journey across the ocean. She arrives in Havana’s steamy shipyard clad in a woolen dress and stockings and is finally reunited with Papa; together, they travel to his small village of Agramonte.

Once she has settled in, Esther helps her father peddle his wares. Showing fortitude and resilience, she begins to use her creative talents to sew dresses to sell in order to raise the money to bring the rest of their family to Cuba. Traveling the streets of Agramonte with Papa, Esther readily makes new friends in her new and unfamiliar country.

Although Cuba is a safer place for Jewish people than Poland, Havana is still rife with anti-Semitism, embodied in the cruel Señor Eduardo, who seems intent on bringing Hitler’s hatred to Cuba. Esther’s determination to learn about the cultural traditions of her new home and to share her own traditions with her new friends provides a striking and empowering counterpoint. Through hard work, patience, talent and the kindness of others, Esther and her father endure and eventually thrive, remaining undaunted in pursuit of their goal of reuniting their family.

Letters From Cuba is told through Esther’s letters to her sister, Malka, in Poland, and author Ruth Behar creates a compelling narrative voice for Esther. She’s a preteen girl with a mature sensibility born out of the heavy burden she shoulders as she immigrates and raises the funds to reunite her family. Readers will root for Esther as she matures in her new country and keeps her dream alive.

Behar shines a light on the harsh and unjust reality of life for Jewish people in Poland during this time while succeeding in filling Esther’s story with warmth and hope. Letters from Cuba’s themes of friendship, family, faith and openhearted acceptance give this historical novel timeless resonance.

No one writes as lovingly about quirky, messy and sometimes heartbreaking families as Hilary McKay, whose Binny, Exiles and Casson Family series are rightfully beloved. Although McKay’s most recent books (a historical novel and a fairy-tale collection) are also special, fans will be pleased to discover that she has returned to her roots with The Time of Green Magic—this time with a little magic added, to boot.

Eleven-year-old Abi is not exactly thrilled that her father is getting married again. Sure, she gains two stepbrothers, 14-year-old Will and 6-year-old Louis. But she also loses a lot of space and privacy, as well as her beloved Granny Grace, who has lived with Abi since her mother died and uses this moment of change as a chance to finally return to her beloved Jamaica.

So when the fledgling family needs to move to a new home and Abi discovers a mysterious, ivy-covered house that seems just perfect for them, she dares to hope that it might be a chance for a new beginning. Almost immediately, though, strange things start to happen. Abi, always a passionate reader, finds herself a little too immersed in the books she picks up. Little Louis starts to get nighttime visits from a furtive feline friend who quickly grows out of control. Meanwhile, Will is discovering a different sort of magic altogether: the bewitching power of first love.

In telling the story of how magic unites these new siblings, McKay’s novel recalls classic gentle fantasies like L.M. Boston’s Green Knowe novels or Edward Eager’s Half Magic. But the world of McKay’s book, with its blended family, globe-trotting mother and subplots about bullying and reluctant readers, also feels rooted in and relevant to the contemporary moment.

Of course, one thing that will never go out of fashion is the love between family members. The Time of Green Magic depicts the tentative formation of a family with tender sweetness and aching authenticity. Readers will be particularly gratified to see how stories and writing bring this new family together, whether via the stories that Abi’s dad tells at bedtime or the letters Granny Grace sends from Jamaica. It’s a joy to spend time with another memorable set of characters from this talented author.

If you are a young boy who discovers you have a monster sleeping under your bed, what do you do? You scream. And if you are a monster on the receiving end of that scream, what do you do? You swallow the boy whole, of course.

So begins Hannah Barnaby’s clever chapter book, Monster and Boy, but when an unexpected cough jettisons the now grasshopper-sized boy from the monster’s tummy, the monster is faced with a much bigger—or is it smaller?—problem. His friend, who sleeps in the bed above him, whose socks smell so good, whose snoring is so comforting, is now scarcely bigger than a mouse. Despite his diminutive size, the boy still has a large appetite, so monster and boy venture downstairs to the kitchen, where they encounter another problem in the form of the boy’s sister, who threatens to wake the entire house. What’s a well-intentioned monster to do?

Barnaby’s story provides plenty of bite-sized drama while spinning a warm and literally fuzzy tale of unlikely friendship. Illustrator Anoosha Syed’s simple line drawings breathe life into the sweet but hapless monster and add an extra dimension of humor to Barnaby’s wry text. The story’s casual, conversational style makes this engaging chapter book easy for even the most reluctant readers to swallow—whole, of course.