When Hungry Ghost Month arrives, the veil to the underworld lifts to allow bug-eyed, starving ghosts into the world of the living, where they feast on food left out by thoughtful mortals . . . and hunt for the delicious souls of the newly deceased. July Chen’s dad insists these ghosts aren’t real, so she ignores them—even though she alone can see them.

Other than her dad, no one that July meets ever seems to remember her, so she slips through life unnoticed—until she runs into the wandering soul of the wandering soul of William, a still-­living boy. William has experienced countless near-death experiences since birth, and the latest freak accident has landed him in a coma. July promises to help William return to his body, but soon starving spirits descend upon them and William’s tether to the real world begins to fray, forcing July to look at the truth of her own life: why people forget her, why she possesses special yin-yang eyes that allow her to see ghosts and how far she is willing to go to rescue her new friend.

Author-illustrator Remy Lai, known for her award-­winning graphic novels Pie in the Sky and Pawcasso, brings her trademark colorful style to a darker yet equally charming palette in her new folkloric contemporary fantasy, Ghost Book. Not a single panel is wasted, and readers who pay close attention to the art will be deeply rewarded by neatly placed clues that foreshadow the story’s final twists.

Lai explores grief and other hard topics with a careful hand, avoiding a descent into overwhelming sadness. Serious topics—the loss of a parent, the fear of dying and the pain of betrayal—are juxtaposed neatly with the presence of an adorable ghost named Floof and jokes about how passionately ghosts love dumplings. Prevailing above all is the power of friendship, and July’s and William’s attempts to save each other’s lives will thrill readers.

Lai limits her human cast to a handful of characters, but the myriad spirits she pulls from Chinese mythology will inspire readers to learn more about the real Hungry Ghost Festival. Kids who like to mimic the art styles of graphic novels will be equally inspired by both the hungry ghosts, drawn in detail with gaunt faces and hideous boils, and the simpler forms of Floof and the friendlier background ghosts. For kids who eat up graphic novels like Anya’s Ghost by Vera Brosgol, Pilu of the Woods by Mai K. Nguyen and Ghosts by Raina Telgemeier, Ghost Book will make a perfect addition to their shelves.

Since long before 12-year-old Erie was born, lockwood trees have been planted to protect towns from terrible wildfires known as the Arborklept. Designed by the inventor Dr. Lunata Elemnieri, the lockwood keeps everything out—the fires, the smoke and the winds. But the lockwood in Erie’s hometown of Prine was the first of its kind. Planted improperly close to the town’s center, this lockwood also keeps out sunlight. 

Day in and day out, the whole town of Prine nearly suffocates in darkness, so children who are large enough to climb yet small enough to fit through the vines of the lockwood must cut it back each morning. Erie is one of these children. She spent years learning from her older sister how to safely climb, fall and wield a FOLROY hatchet. It’d be daunting work for anyone, but it’s especially difficult to send children into such dangerous conditions, so the townsfolk only receives a few hours of sunlight each day. 

But that’s the way it goes. If you don’t like it, you can endure the long process to get papers permitting a move to the city of Petrichor. 

Olivia A. Cole’s middle grade novel puts the reader in the passenger seat alongside Erie as she navigates the challenges of being the youngest child in a family that has long kept secrets while coping with climate tragedies. After making a startling discovery one night in the lockwood, Erie goes on an adventure to uncover all of her world’s mysteries. Where the Lockwood Grows creates a beautiful mix of hope and honesty about impending climate disasters and the drive of younger, wiser generations to imagine a better world for us all. 

In her debut middle grade novel, Nasuġraq Rainey Hopson crafts an exquisitely immersive tale describing the mythical origins of the Iñupiaq Messenger Feast and how the Iñupiaq people acquired song and dance.

A boy named Pinja is sent on a mountain journey by his family to get obsidian for their toolmaking. His mother can’t help but worry; it’s the same mountain where his two older brothers disappeared. Nonetheless, it’s a vital task, because this small family lives off the land and never takes more than what’s necessary, surviving “thanks to the animals and their kindness and generosity—and a heavy dose of luck.” They rarely see others and are extremely cautious the few times they do.

When Pinja reaches the mountain, he is immediately confronted by an immense eagle god named Savik, who snatches him and takes him far away to Savik’s eagle god family. Pinja remains prisoner for 14 moons, learning many difficult lessons from the eagle gods, including how to dance, sing, drum, build a large gathering hall and become a leader.

Pinja is thoughtful, intelligent and determined, and his intense yearning to return home drives him to study and learn from everything he encounters—even a cute lemming teaches Pinja to see the power of combining strength with others. Gradually, Pinja realizes an important new concept, one foreign to his family: “Why would you do things alone when you can accomplish so much together?”

Rainey’s writing is taut and finely chiseled, as in this description of the endless ennui of Pinja’s imprisonment: “The days cut at him like obsidian against grass with their slow emptiness.” Her fine-toned illustrations showcase the beauty of the Alaskan landscape and its people, while her knowledgeable, passionate descriptions of survival in a harsh environment integrate well into the ongoing action. Rainey herself lives with her family in a remote Alaska Native village in the Brooks Range, where they follow a predominantly subsistence life and try to preserve traditional Iñupiaq values and knowledge.

Eagle Drums marks the impressive debut of a gifted writer. Rainey gives readers an engrossing, exciting look into Iñupiaq culture while offering invaluable lessons about the power of community, kinship and celebrations.

There is no library in the small town of Martinville. Twenty years ago, it burned to the ground, and nothing was ever built in its place. But one day in the waning months of spring, a little free library appears overnight in front of the town’s History House, guarded by a large, purring, orange sentinel named Mortimer.

Fifth grader Evan is one of the first to discover the new library and take some books. He also seems to be the only one to notice that most of the books are from the old Martinville library, where they were all returned on November 5, 1999—the same day the library burned down. Not only that, but the famous mystery writer H.G. Higgins appears to have been the last person to check some of them out.

As the little free library grows, so does Evan’s list of questions. Why did the old library burn down? Why didn’t they build a new one? Did H.G. Higgins live in Martinville? Did he set the fire? With the help of his best friend, Rafe, Evan investigates the expanding number of clues. But Martinville isn’t ready to give up such big secrets so quickly.

Written by two powerhouses of children’s literature, Rebecca Stead and Wendy Mass, The Lost Library is a charming love letter to libraries, stories and life’s little mysteries, told through the alternating perspectives of Mortimer the cat, Evan and ghostly librarian Al. Stead and Mass provide all the tools required to solve the book’s multilayered mysteries—but rather than make the reveals too obvious, they create an alluring trail of breadcrumbs, inviting readers to leap to each discovery by themselves.

The story is relatively small in scope but speaks to the wider importance of connection. Throughout the novel, characters shine through their relationships with others, and the overarching lesson is clear: People need each other, and this is a good thing.

Though readers might expect something on a slightly grander scale from the combined powers of Stead and Mass, The Lost Library’s whimsical simplicity is a delight. It is subtly magical, sweetly optimistic and above all, kind. The Lost Library reminds us that each book contains an entire universe, and the next one you step inside of could be the one that changes everything. The next time one of its readers walks past a little free library, they might just stop to look inside.

Award-winning author Grace Lin leads readers on a fascinating, mouthwatering tour of American Chinese food in Chinese Menu: The History, Myths, and Legends Behind Your Favorite Foods. Her enthusiastic, attention-grabbing narration often makes readers feel as though she’s addressing them directly.

Lin describes American Chinese dishes—which have been adapted and changed from those found in China—as “the flavor of resilience, the flavor of adaptability, the flavor of persistence and triumph. Above anything, this food is the flavor of America.” Chinese Menu is jampacked with chapters that are organized according to course, including tea, appetizers, soup and chef’s specials. Foods like Bird’s Nest Soup, General Tso’s Chicken (he was a real general during the 1850 Taiping Rebellion) and Chop Suey make an appearance. There’s history, too: Lin explains that the fork may have been invented in China, but that as chopsticks evolved from long bronze cooking tools to their wooden form, Confucius advised people to use them to eat instead, believing that knives and forks resembled weapons and brought disharmony to meals. Adding to the offerings are numerous color illustrations, diagrams, a map of China, informative endnotes, an extensive bibliography and an illustrated timeline showing when various dishes emerged. There’s also a recipe for Lin’s mother’s scallion pancakes.

Read our interview with Grace Lin: “What’s more tangible and easier to understand than the food that we eat?”

Though all of the above is compelling, what makes this book shine are the numerous retellings of food-related myths and folktales, many of which Lin first heard as a child at the dinner table. A story about the origin of Dragon Well Tea involves a dragon, a poor old woman and a mysterious stranger who knocks on her door. Dumplings are said to have been invented during the Eastern Han Dynasty (24–220), when a doctor named Zhang Zhongjing found an innovative way to treat villagers’ frostbitten ears during the Lunar New Year. Some tales are not for the faint of heart and involve subjects like death and poverty, but throughout, Lin’s sensitive narration remains mindful of her young audience.

Lin’s illustrations are further icing on the cake—starting with the book’s ornate cover showing a young girl holding out a steaming bowl of soup, inside of which readers see the faint suggestion of a bridge and a building, hinting at the tales waiting inside.

Chinese Menu is a treat in every way: an exceptional compilation that can be read all at once or taken out from time to time as a reference while eating certain dishes—a family ritual that all ages will enjoy. Either way, it’s scrumptious!

It’s been several years since Guinevere “Nev” Tallow’s mother disappeared, and their life has since been dominated by their father’s destructive habits—trying numerous get-rich-quick schemes and imploring Nev to pay off the loan sharks that storm into their apartment and fill the air with anger and threats.

By the start of bestselling graphic novelist Ethan M. Aldridge’s first prose novel Deephaven, Nev has decided they’ll no longer be dragged down by a selfish and uninterested parent. Instead, they’ll plunge into the unknown, thanks to a full scholarship offered by the prestigious Deephaven Academy. For Nev, their first day going to Deephaven provides a deeply meaningful opportunity to “be the person they needed to be . . . to finally feel comfortable in their own skin, a chance to start over.”

That’s no small feat: Nev tends to be shy, more an observer than a joiner (“They really, really, weren’t good at conversations”). But they’re determined to find a home in this gothic manse.

As befits an eerie dark academia tale, the academy is rife with dark hallways, rooftop gargoyles and a sense of foreboding that overlays the hustle and bustle of a new school year. The principal and prefects are polite but seem to be hiding something. For example, Nev wonders, why is the east wing closed for repairs when there’s no structural damage to be seen? And if the wing is indeed empty, why is a scratching sound coming from behind its walls?

Nev likes to wear a big green coat, its many pockets filled with components they use to make intricate mechanical toys. Solving puzzles is second nature, and they resolve to use their “mechanical mind and magpie instincts” to figure out—with the help of new friend Danny—what’s really going on at the school. It’s a scary proposition, and Aldridge’s twisty narrative and spine-chilling illustrations heighten the suspense of Nev’s daring mission in this engaging page-turner of a series kickoff. Spooky yet heartfelt, Deephaven is sure to delight fans of Netflix’s “Wednesday” and anyone who likes a cleverly conceived gothic tale featuring creepy creatures and found family.