With a name like Scottish Play Doe, Scott is used to being a little different. In addition to his unique name, Scott also has the odd tendency to see things—cats with unicorn horns, human-sized rabbits hiding in storm drains and a very frightened leprechaun. Cold Cereal, the new middle grade novel from Adam Rex, follows Scott, his friends Erno and Emily, and Mick the leprechaun as they attempt to discover what is happening behind the scenes at the Goodco Cereal Company.

In this first book of a planned trilogy, Scott catches Mick the leprechaun trying to steal his backpack. No one is more surprised by this than Mick, since, well, no one is supposed to be able to see him. Mick decides that Scott must be part fairy (since that would also explain seeing the unicat and the giant rabbit), and enlists his help. Mick tells Scott that the characters he sees in the commercials for Goodco Cereal Company are real, and the company is stealing their “glamour” to make its cereal better.

While Scott is struggling with this new (and strange) information, his classmates, twins Erno and Emily, are going through some struggles of their own. Their foster father’s riddle games have been getting more difficult, and Emily’s headaches are growing worse. Only the constant presence of their strangely hairy housekeeper Biggs keeps the children going forward.

As the story progresses, Scott, Erno and Emily realize they are all trying to discover much of the same thing. As they begin to work together, each discovery brings them deeper and deeper into a mystery they never could have imagined.

In his strangest book yet, Rex pulls together Arthurian legends, secret societies, nefarious plots, cryptozoology and giant pink dragons. Cold Cereal jumps from one story to the next with breakneck speed, and the reader is left gasping for air by the end. By creating incredibly likable characters, Rex is able to make the reader feel like he or she is a part of the book. Perfect for fans of fantasy, folklore or humor, Cold Cereal leaves you hungry for the next bowl!

Kevin Delecki is the Head Librarian of the Cedarville (Ohio) Community Library, a member of the 2011 Caldecott Committee and the father of two very energetic boys.

It is rare for a small book to have a big impact, but Wes Tooke’s King of the Mound: My Summer with Satchel Paige is one that does. In only 160 pages, the story covers just one summer in the life of an adolescent boy in 1935. Tooke deftly weaves in all the history needed to understand Nick’s life with uncluttered but rich prose.

We meet Nick as he is being released from the hospital after being there for a whole year recovering from polio. Once a great youth league pitcher, he now has a weak leg that requires a brace. His widowed father, a catcher for a minor league team in Bismarck, North Dakota, has been gruff and a bit unkind since the death of Nick’s mother, but without even baseball to bind them, he is more unfeeling than ever. Nick is glad to be home, but fears he will never pitch again—and therefore never regain his father’s pride or affection. The only thing he looks forward to is working a summer job for the Bismarck Churchills and watching the magnificent Satchel Paige pitch.

Layered over the fictional story is the fact that Paige really played for Bismarck in the summer of 1935 for team owner Neil Churchill. This was one of the only integrated teams in existence at the time, and Tooke accurately portrays the prejudice they encountered when traveling to other towns. In one case, there was no hotel at all for black people and those team members had to sleep in a cornfield.

Paige’s difficulties with racism help Nick appreciate that his own troubles are not nearly so bad. Plus, Paige takes Nick under his wing and encourages him to strengthen his leg and practice his pitching again, giving him marvelous words of wisdom along the way.

Tooke has written a true marvel of a book: historical detail about racism in the 1930s, the emotional life of a boy finding his own personal strength, and exciting, edge-of-your-seat play-by-play of some record-breaking baseball games. King of the Mound is highly recommended for readers of all ages.

Jennifer Bruer Kitchel is the librarian for a pre-K through eighth grade Catholic school in Nashville.

When a buzzard casts his shadow on Moses Thomas’ yard in Wilmington, North Carolina, his grandmother, Boo Nanny, is certain that trouble is headed their way. His father, an elected alderman in the once-progressive city and a reporter for the Wilmington Daily Record, the city’s African-American newspaper, can see it coming, too, when the paper prints an editorial that inflames the white community. The tension continues to mount in Crow, Barbara Wright’s gripping middle grade debut, a novel based on actual events from the Wilmington Race Riot of 1898.

As Moses’ 12th birthday approaches, he’s a boy who simply wants a new bike—but his innocence is shattered when the Red Shirts arrive, spreading their message of white supremacy and evoking fear and hatred throughout the city. As his world becomes ever more complex, Moses bridges other dichotomies as well. Never sure if he should side with Boo Nanny, a former turpentine plantation slave who makes decisions based on observations and superstitions, or his father, a modern man who seeks knowledge from books, Moses often finds truth in both ways of thinking. Even the writing grows increasingly dual-sided, at once rich but heartbreaking, as Moses witnesses the destruction and chaos of mob mentality.

One true mark of an outstanding children’s book is the ability to strike a chord with both young and adult readers. Crow proves to be just such a book. While children will grasp the threat against African Americans and the awkwardness between Boo Nanny and the planter who once owned her, adults will see more sinister possibilities, including the identity of Moses’ real grandfather. But all readers will feel the effects of this lesser-known yet eye-opening piece of African-American history—one that ignited Jim Crow laws in Wilmington and across the state but also helped to build a courageous and resilient spirit in some of those who lived through it.

Fantasy novels often seem to take place in a vaguely ancient British or Irish world, especially when the story involves fairies, elves or other magical creatures. Greek mythology has also had a certain popularity, but author Jasmine Richards breaks new ground for young readers by giving her debut novel, The Book of Wonders, a Middle Eastern flavor. She even includes Sinbad the Sailor as a somewhat major character, further enhancing the Arabian setting, and rewarding the reader with a refreshing new world to explore.

Zardi longs to leave her restrictive life as a girl from a good home in Arribitha. Her ambition is to sail and have wonderful adventures, like Sinbad on his ship, the Falcon. She is even more intrigued when her best friend Rhidan discovers that Sinbad may be able to tell him why he was orphaned and where he came from. But the event that spurs Zardi and Rhidan to action is the kidnapping of her father and sister by the evil Sultan Shahry?r. Now they must find Sinbad—and some answers—in order to free Zardi’s family.

Richards weaves in enough sorcery, djinnis (genies) and danger to keep any middle grade reader entranced. There are familiar scenes—like finding a djinni inside a lamp—and new creatures like the Queen of the Serpents and the giant brass horseman. While the main story line is resolved, others arise, assuring a sequel to come for this well-paced adventure.

“It’s for the best,” May’s parents tell her as they ship her off to work on a neighbor’s homestead for a few months. It’s only 15 miles away, but in 1870s Kansas, it might as well be the edge of the universe. Still, times are tough, and 12-year-old May can bring in some money, so Pa takes her across the empty prairie to Mr. and Mrs. Oblinger’s misshapen sod house.

Mrs. Oblinger is a teenager, just four or five years May’s senior, who dislikes this new life on the prairie and soon runs off to go back to Ohio. Mr. Oblinger goes after her, leaving May all by herself, lost in the open spaces, with no idea of how to get home.

Alone in the vastness of the prairie, without even a gun and with winter coming on, May finds herself in a battle to survive. But it’s not easy for her, by herself, to carry out “the steps I’ll have to take, / the work that’s needed / just to exist. / Wouldn’t it be better / to / forget / to / care?” It would be so easy to sleep late, not take care of business and neglect the chores: “Who will notice?”

May loses track of time and realizes “Time was made / for others, / not for someone / all alone.” She even begins to wonder who she is: “So many things / I know about myself / I’ve learned from others. / Without someone else to listen, / to judge, / to tell me what to do, / and to choose who I am, do I get to decide for myself?”

In May B., Caroline Starr Rose uses free-verse poetry effectively to capture May’s earnest voice, the lines of poetry taking readers right into May’s mind and heart, the spare beauty of the writing mirroring the stark landscape engulfing her. Winter comes, and snow traps May inside the little sod tomb, until she makes a desperate decision to find her way home or die trying. In the spirit of Karen Hesse’s Out of the Dust, Starr has written an elegant and original survival tale.