In this luminous middle grade novel, Michael L. Printz Honor author Helen Frost mines family history to explore the little-known experiences of children in state-run psychiatric institutions in mid-20th-century America. Artistic and bright, Henry was born hearing but became deaf after an illness in early childhood. At first, Henry continues to speak to his loving older sister, Molly, as well as to his parents, but the teasing and bullying of others soon silence him.

When his parents seek professional help, a school for the deaf deems Henry “unteachable,” and he is sent instead to Riverview, a deplorable institution. There, Henry develops close friendships with two other boys; despite mistreatment, he manages to maintain his compassionate nature and his humanity. Henry’s life changes for the better when, after the U.S. enters World War II, a conscientious objector named Victor is assigned to Riverview.

Henry’s story unfolds in plainspoken yet evocative third-person free verse that brings the story’s setting to life. For instance, when he arrives at Riverview, Henry reacts most strongly to its awful smell, a combination that includes “something like potatoes / forgotten in a corner of the kitchen.” Victor’s portion of the narrative includes epistolary poems in sonnet form that add context to Henry’s experiences as well as to the time period. The relationship that develops between Molly and Victor—also told through letters—is especially lovely as the two young people work together to improve Henry’s life.

Although Frost’s subject is weighty, she handles it with skilled sensitivity. All He Knew is a significant and poignant exploration of a difficult moment in American history and serves as a loving tribute to the young people whose experiences it brings to light.

ALSO IN BOOKPAGE: Helen Frost shares her personal connection to the story of All He Knew.

Jacqueline Woodson’s Before the Ever After places professional football’s concussion epidemic front and center.

ZJ had it all: musical talent, a solid group of friends, a strong, supportive mom and a famous football-player dad he adored. But that was before. Before his dad’s hands began to tremble. Before his dad’s memory began to fade. When his father is diagnosed with a degenerative brain disease caused by the multiple concussions he experienced on the playing field, ZJ must face the prospect of losing his father and the relationship he holds most dear.

Award-winning author Woodson tells ZJ’s story in intimate, compelling poems that slip through time. We see ZJ as a small child riding on his father’s shoulders, far above the fray of reporters and fans. We hear their heart-to-heart conversations, listen to ZJ’s dad muse on his love for football and watch as the cracks and fissures of memory loss, anger and confusion creep into their idyllic life.

A stirring, character-driven novel in verse, Before the Ever After doesn’t sugarcoat harsh realities but addresses them with considered care and optimism. Woodson is far too adept a storyteller to directly answer many of the questions she raises, but ZJ’s quiet resilience and the network of nurturing figures who surround him suggest a path lit by glimmers of hope.

Stories of orphans making it on their own and finding family are a staple of children’s literature, and Newbery Honor author Polly Horvath’s Pine Island Home has an old-fashioned feel. It’s a comforting coming-of-age tale about four sisters whose missionary parents are killed in a tsunami. Their great-aunt Martha agrees to take them in, but when Fiona and her younger sisters, Marlin, Natasha and Charlie, arrive on Pine Island, they discover Martha has just died.

The sisters move into her house anyway. Determined to keep her family together, Fiona negotiates with Al, the eccentric and often inebriated writer who lives on the property adjacent to Martha’s. He agrees to pretend to be their guardian in exchange for beer money and dinners cooked by budding chef Marlin.

Horvath (One Year in Coal Harbor, The Night Garden) is a master at creating winning characters, and each sister emerges as a distinct individual. In particular, Fiona is a study in resilience, shouldering the burden of financial responsibility and the insistent emails from their great-aunt’s attorney. The girls’ efforts at self-sufficiency are appealing, as are the cast of townsfolk and the bucolic setting, as the sisters discover that families can be created in surprising ways.

“A patchwork story is the shame of a refugee,” Daniel Nayeri writes in Everything Sad Is Untrue. Nayeri’s patchwork story forms a stunning quilt, each piece lovingly stitched together to create a saga that deserves to be savored.

Everything Sad Is Untrue is the mostly true story of Khosrou, who becomes Daniel, and the two lives he has lived in just 11 years. First, there’s his life back in Iran, where his family was wealthy, where he went hunting for leopards and where his parents’ veins were filled with the blood of divinity. Then there’s his life now, in Oklahoma, where he has to learn to survive the bus ride home, where his mother has to learn to survive her new husband and where he realizes his memories of his first life are slipping away.

In the voice of his younger self, Nayeri casts himself as Scheherazade, with readers as his king; we hold his life in our hands. Should we believe his tales? His classmates in Oklahoma don’t. No one believes that the smelly kid who is too poor to pay for lunch in the cafeteria once lived in a beautiful house and dined with the prince of Abu Dhabi. Even Nayeri admits his memory is shaky. Was that really the prince of Abu Dhabi? It’s hard to know when you’re a kid who’s just escaped a religious death squad by fleeing to a foreign country.

The stakes here are life and death, not only for young Daniel and his family during their journey but also for Nayeri the storyteller, who stands before us in “the parlors of our minds,” spinning tale after tale. To stop reading is to condemn him to a death of indifference. But Nayeri is a gifted writer whose tales of family, injustice, tragedy, faith, history and poop (yes, poop) combine to create such an all-consuming experience that reacting with indifference is simply not possible. 

A deeply personal book that makes a compelling case for empathy and hope, Everything Sad Is Untrue is one of the most extraordinary books of the year.

ALSO IN BOOKPAGE: Author Daniel Nayeri and publisher/editor Arthur A. Levine go behind the scenes of Everything Sad Is Untrue.

“I’ve learned that some things are almost impossible to talk about because they’re things no one wants to know,” says Delicious Neveah Roberts, the narrator of Newbery Honor author Kimberly Brubaker Bradley’s magnificent Fighting Words. The 10-year-old, who goes by Della, already sports a tattoo and openly admits that she has a “big mouth” and that her superpower is, “I don’t take snow from anybody.” (Della uses the word “snow” as a substitute whenever she’d rather use a “bad word,” which is frequently.) “Sometime you’ve got a story you need to find the courage to tell,” Della informs the reader with characteristic directness.

Della is inseparable from her 16-year-old half-sister, Suki. Their mother was incarcerated in Kansas after blowing up a motel room while making meth with both girls at her side. Her parental rights were terminated, and the girls fell through the cracks and continued to live with Clifton, their mother’s boyfriend, in Tennessee. As the book opens, the girls have just made a bold escape from Clifton’s house and have been placed into foster care after Suki caught Clifton abusing Della. Della reveals, “I’d had sixty seconds of terror. Suki had had years.”

Bradley depicts the girls’ story, including Clifton’s abuse, directly but gently, in a way that never once feels inappropriate for a middle grade readership. She carefully recounts the aftermath of their trauma (Suki has screaming nightmares and attempts suicide) as the girls are placed first in temporary care with a woman Della describes as an “emergency replacement witch” and then with cigarette-smoking Francine, about whom Della observes there is “nothing motherly,” but who turns out to be exactly the protector the sisters so desperately need.

ALSO IN BOOKPAGE: Kimberly Brubaker Bradley reveals why Fighting Words is the book she was put on earth to write.

Della makes a few friends at her new school, most notably Neveah, with whom she shares her middle name. As Della and Suki debate whether and how to testify against Clifton, Della clashes with her teacher and a bully named Trevor, who likes to pinch girls’ backs to see whether they’re wearing bras. These tensions culminate in a powerful moment in which Della proclaims, “Never touch me again. Never touch me or any girl in this class without permission ever again.”

In all truthfulness, I was reluctant to read Fighting Words when I learned about the topics its plot would include. “How depressing,” I thought. But oh, how wrong I was. Bradley handles these tough subjects in ways that are enlightening, empowering and—yes—uplifting, thanks largely to the irrepressible Della’s engaging narrative voice, which itself is a testament to Bradley’s immense talent.

As their friendship deepens, Della’s friend Neveah, whose family lost their apartment and briefly lived out of their car, lends her a copy of Barbara O’Connor’s How to Steal a Dog. Though Della fails to connect with O’Connor’s tale of another girl in a “tough spot,” Neveah’s articulation of the book’s importance in her life is certain to be echoed by some readers of Fighting Words: “I was glad, you know, to read the book. To know it didn’t only happen to me.”

An award-worthy tale about a feisty survivor, Fighting Words is a story readers will draw strength from, and Della is a heroine they’ll be unlikely to forget.

Trevor can’t get enough of his great-grandfather Jacob’s stories of World War II. Jacob stormed the beaches at Normandy, courageously fought Nazis and spent grueling days and seemingly endless nights in trenches. His battalion even liberated a small French village. Jacob’s heroism is an unquestionable fact, and Trevor’s life revolves around his great-grandfather’s war, from the video games he plays for hours on end to the memorabilia he collects and the posters that adorn his bedroom walls.

It seems like the opportunity of a lifetime for Trevor when the French village of Sainte-Régine wants to honor Jacob as the last surviving participant in the battle for the town’s liberation. It’s a chance to travel with Jacob to a place where the war was actually fought. But was Trevor’s great-grandfather really as heroic as he seems in all his stories?

Trevor, his father and Jacob embark on a pilgrimage of sorts, retracing Jacob’s footsteps during the war from basic training at a base in Georgia to England and then to France. Trevor takes in the sights and the history with enthusiasm, but Jacob becomes less excited and more tired as they come closer to Sainte-Régine, and the trip is plagued by a series of unpleasant coincidences. There’s no telling what truths will be revealed when the pilgrims arrive in Sainte-Régine.

Alternating between the present and flashbacks to Jacob’s wartime experiences, bestselling author Gordon Korman’s War Stories juxtaposes a boy’s admiration and belief in his great-grandfather’s heroism and valor with the gritty and morally complex reality of war. Korman strikes a perfect balance between compassion and honesty as he unflinchingly explores the sometimes fine line between heroes and traitors, victors and villains. It’s a masterful demonstration of how the effects of war don’t end when battles are won or lost but continue to ripple down through generations.

ALSO IN BOOKPAGE: Author Gordon Korman goes behind the scenes of War Stories and shares how he keeps young readers turning the pages in book after book.

At first glance, The Summer We Found the Baby, a short novel about a baby discovered in a basket on the steps of the new children’s library in Belle Beach, Long Island, appears to be a sweet snapshot of life in a small town during World War II. But author Amy Hest packs much into its pages—an intricate plot, deeply imagined characters and relationships and adroitly tackled big issues such as death and unplanned pregnancy—and handles it all with delicacy and care.

Alternating rapidly among three narrators—12-year-old Bruno Ben-Eli; his next-door neighbor, 11-year-old Julie Sweet; and Julie’s 6-year-old sister, Martha—the book begins in the morning just before the library’s opening–day celebrations. Julie and Martha have arrived early with a homemade cake for First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt, to whom Bruno and Julie have both written letters in the hope that she might attend the day’s festivities. It’s the girls who discover the baby nestled in a basket on the library steps, but it’s Bruno who spots them walking away from the library with the basket. “Holy everything,” he thinks, “Julie Sweet is a kidnapper.”

The action unfolds quickly from this auspicious beginning. With each twist and turn of the plot, Hest is adept at filling in only as much backstory as is needed for each character. The three resourceful children are united by an undertone of sadness and longing. Bruno’s beloved older brother, Ben, is serving overseas, and Julie and Martha’s mother is deceased. The war casts a long shadow over the book’s events, and Hest adds spare but effective historical references throughout the story. 

Hest’s prose is wonderfully unadorned, her narrative voices natural and the story deliciously satisfying. The Summer We Found the Baby is a quiet wonder and a rare delight.

Gae Polisner and Nora Raleigh’s Seven Clues to Home is a deeply emotional story that alternates perspectives between Joy, who is about to turn 13, and her best friend, Lukas, who narrates from the day of Joy’s 12th birthday—which is also the day of his sudden, untimely death.

Joy and Lukas share August birthdays and have celebrated with a joint scavenger hunt for as long as they can remember. As Lukas’ side of the story opens, he’s preparing the clues that Joy will follow and planning an extra surprise for her. Thanks to the extra money he’s made walking dogs, he’s bought Joy a necklace and written her a letter that will reveal his feelings for her. Before he dies, he leaves the first clue at Joy’s house, where it will stay in her dresser drawer for the next 364 days. Lost in her grief, Joy just can’t bring herself to read it.

When Joy finally reads the clue, she immediately knows where Lukas wants her to go next and decides that she’ll follow wherever his final scavenger hunt leads her. After successfully tracking down the first few clues on her own, she must reach out to her older sister and a former teacher in order to complete Lukas’ final mission.

Polisner and Raleigh brilliantly portray a strong yet tender connection between two young people that not even death can sever. Joy’s narrative voice is credible and compelling, while Lukas’ honest and lively language hits just the right notes. With simple but evocative prose, the authors succeed in weaving threads of peace and hope into a bittersweet story of friendship, tragedy and loss. 

Rufus has never made a mistake. “Mistake” is too small a word for what Rufus does. No, Rufus makes fatal errors. He gets excited about a bird called a masked booby in front of his whole class, or sits on a bundle of berries that stain the back of his pants—situations that make being around other people unbearable. But summer means no more school, and, Rufus thinks, no more fatal errors. But this is the summer everything changes for Rufus.

With his dad out of work and his mom moving out of state for a job, Rufus is looking forward to spending the summer with his grandfather at his home, which is called Feylawn. Feylawn has always been a persnickety place, but when things get out of hand and his dad bars him from visiting the property, Rufus must conspire with his cousin Abigail in order to sneak back in. Together, the two discover that there’s much more to Feylawn than meets the eye, and Rufus’ next fatal error could be his last.

A seamless combination of fantasy and mystery wrapped around a classical coming-of-age narrative, Dashka Slater’s The Book of Fatal Errors grabs the readers hand from the first page and tugs them along at a breakneck pace through twist after twist. Slater is careful not to lose track of the complex relationships among Rufus and the various members of his family; as a result, the book’s magical elements feel grounded in emotional realism. Put this fun tale into the hands of any kid who’s ever wished to find fairies in the backyard.

Annie Donwerth-Chikamatsu’s second novel in verse tells the story of one girl’s experiences during the devastating 2011 earthquake and tsunami in Tokyo.

Maya is an innocent and deeply empathetic person, who feels not only her own pain and hardship, but also that of her family, friends and community. When disaster strikes, she worries about them as well as for those most severely impacted, miles away from her in northeastern Japan. She’s desperate to find ways to help, but her initial efforts all seem insignificant. What difference can one girl make?

Donwerth-Chikamatsu’s verse skillfully evokes Maya’s poignant emotional landscape during and in the aftermath of the tragedies she experiences. Hopefully very few readers will know what it’s like to live through an earthquake or a tsunami, but through Maya’s story, they will understand what the survivors of such disasters may have felt.

Beyond Me showcases the best of humanity under the worst of circumstances as Maya learns to care for herself and her own heart as much as she cares for others.

Jenae is content in her social solitude, having already realized that “the world is full of people . . . who think fitting in is more important than being yourself.” However, her first day at John Wayne Junior High presents a challenge when her teacher announces that students must pair up to debate in front of the class.

Something to Say, like Jenae herself, is quietly commanding. Lisa Moore Ramée’s breezy chapters fly by as she thoughtfully explores friendship, activism and other serious issues.

The heart of the story is the budding friendship between Jenae and Aubrey, a new boy in school and her partner in the debate challenge. They bond over a fictional superhero but are otherwise total opposites. Aubrey is loud and energetic, and he couldn’t be more excited about the debate assignment.

Aubrey helps Jenae navigate her worries about her brother, whose athletic career has been sidelined by injury, and Jenae begins to appreciate the value of their friendship. But Jenae’s life becomes more complicated when her beloved grandfather, Gee, has a stroke, and her absentee father lets her down again.

Meanwhile, Jenae’s community is deciding whether to change her school’s name because of white supremacist comments made by the school’s namesake, an actor whom Gee admires. Community leaders want to rename it to honor Sylvia Mendez, the girl at the center of Mendez v. Westminster, a 1947 school desegregation case that set a precedent used in Brown v. Board of Education. Ramée weaves this conflict into the story skillfully, avoiding didacticism while acknowledging why many people resist change.

As Jenae discovers her own powerful voice, she must overcome her fear of using it in order to spark positive change in her community. The book’s message about the importance of righting the wrongs of history and taking a stand for what you believe will resonate loud and clear.

The kids are a lot bigger in middle school. That’s the first thing Cyrus Olson notices when he steps onto the field for football tryouts. Everyone expects him to become the next star receiver for Joseph Lee Heywood Middle School, just like his dad was. In fact, they expect him to be a lot of things like his big, strong firefighter dad, but that’s just not Cyrus. 

In Brave Like That, author Lindsey Stoddard (Just Like Jackie, Right as Rain) creates a grounded and authentic story that illustrates how being brave doesn’t always mean running into burning buildings or being the leader of the A-team.

Cyrus feels like the frightening things in his life just keep growing. He knows tackle football is going to hurt; the hallways and classrooms of middle school are full of unfamiliar classmates and teachers and harder schoolwork than ever before; and his beloved grandma is still recovering from a recent stroke. It’s all too much, and Cyrus is afraid that he’s just not brave enough to handle any of it. 

Then Cyrus’ dad finds a stray dog, alone at the front door of the firehouse, just like he found Cyrus exactly 11 years before. Unlike Cyrus, however, his dad has no plans to keep the dog, whom Cyrus names Parker. But if Cyrus is going to get through this year, he knows he’s going to need help from the most unlikely places, whether from a few unexpected friends, his grandma’s old vinyl records or the weight of a lonely dog resting a tired head on his shoulder.

Brave Like That is a nuanced and realistic story of a boy realizing that what he wants for himself is different than what other people may want for him. Cyrus’ sensitive first-person narration is effortlessly constructed and will draw readers in to his thoughts and feelings from the very first page.

Stoddard treads familiar middle grade territory, addressing evergreen themes of friendship and loyalty, but Cyrus’ warm and supportive relationships at the firehouse and his family’s unwavering love make the story shine. Put Brave Like That into the hands of any reader struggling to figure out who they really want to be, and it’ll show them that being yourself is the bravest, if sometimes the hardest, thing you can do.

Paul Mosier’s Summer and July is an ode to that one summer when everything changes. 

Combat-boot-wearing, goth-dressing Juillet is furious that her dad has left her mom for a younger woman. Juillet’s mother, a physician, seldom has enough time for her daughter, but this summer they are heading from Michigan to California for a change of scene. 

Ocean Park is a friendly, funky beach town near everything Juillet fears most: deep, dark oceans, man-eating sharks and the threat of towering tsunamis. As it happens, Juillet is afraid of just about everything. Five different psychologists have told her that she hides behind her fears to avoid her feelings about her parents’ divorce.

Soon after settling in, Juillet meets Summer, a free-spirited surfer who seems like everything Juillet is not. The girls become fast friends, and Summer eases Juillet past each of her phobias, helping her take baby steps into shallow water, then boogie board near the shore, then finally surf her first wave. Though Summer is perpetually upbeat, she also has a secret sadness, which she shares with Juillet as the two become close.

Summer and July reads like a classic coming-of-age story in the best way, as each girl confronts challenges and emerges from her summer transformed. Juillet and Summer’s deepening affection for each other is poignant and sure to resonate. Mosier’s pacing is languid, but like the pull of the tide, readers will be drawn in and swept away from safe and shallow shores. Fortunately, this book trusts that its readers are strong swimmers, ready for what the world has to offer.