Cassie, Emily and Lydia could be Siamese triplets, if there were such a thing. Friends forever, they look out for each other as they weave their ways through high school life. In The Year of Secret Assignments, their English teacher, Mr. Botherit, proposes a pen pal project between their school, Ashbury High, and Brookfield High, the scary school across town. The girls are skeptical but eager to dash off letters, wondering about the possibilities of a workable project between the "Ashbury snobs" and the "lowlife Brooker kids."

As it turns out, their new pen pals are boys Sebastian, Charlie and Matthew. Moriarty uses the difference in tone in the early exchanges between the girls and boys to establish character and set up events to come. Told through notes, letters, diary entries and e-mails, the novel moves along briskly, and the variety of formats is effective in delineating characters. Em's first letter is a four-page missive all about herself and her interests. Lydia's is an off-the-wall explanation of family history and an offer to do a bit of drug trafficking. And Cassie tells all about her counseling. In response, Lydia gets a rude letter with some sexual innuendo, and Cassie receives an offensive one-liner from the decidedly unusual Matthew Dunlop.

Readers who accept the premise and format will find much fun and humor in the madcap series of events that ensues, including the spraying of graffiti on walls, the spreading of computer viruses and other pranks and missions. Some occasional lewd comments and swear words make The Year of Secret Assignments a work for older readers, eighth grade and up. The tone of the story is spirited and upbeat, and the enthusiasm and self-absorption of the three female protagonists is always amusing. "Like I can change things, punish people, fall in love, and find myself, all by writing the right words," Lydia says. Through this onslaught of words, presented in various forms, Moriarty's characters find themselves and define themselves. The novel is a story of self-discovery, of girls and boys who come out from behind their words and realize they have been transformed.

<B>A teen’s endless tour of America</B> Called lots of things con artists, thieves, swindlers, trailer trash the Travelers are a band of contemporary gypsies who tour the roads of America by trailer. Their ancestors in the Middle Ages, guided by the stars, traveled the countryside repairing weapons, pots and pans. In Kim Ablon Whitney’s debut novel <B>See You Down the Road</B>, Bridget Daugherty’s dad has told her how their people came from Ireland during the potato famine and got by however they could trading horses, working scams, selling fake lace. And they are still traveling. They work odd jobs at Kmart or Wal-Mart, roof houses and pave driveways, sell trailers, steal and scam their way across America. Bridget’s family of Northern Travelers is an insular, patriarchal culture, disdainful of country folk the term they use for everyone who is not a Traveler. Marriages outside the group are discouraged, and conversions to the culture are rare since Travelers shun those who mix with country blood. But the open road doesn’t seem so alluring when it’s all you have ever known. The teenaged Bridget does not attend high school very often, though she would like to. She compensates by being a big reader who wants to go to college, but she is supposed to marry Patrick Murphy. She simply doesn’t have much say in the life planned for her by her father.

<B>See You Down the Road</B> is a fascinating look at an invisible subculture in the United States. And though the Traveler society Whitney describes is unconventional, Bridget’s struggle for identity is universal. Bridget has educated herself, and she knows there’s more to life than being a Traveler. But what will it take for her to find the life she wants for herself? This is a satisfying novel and a compelling exploration of a way of life that will be new to many readers. <I>Dean Schneider teaches middle school English in Nashville.</I>

It’s the summer of 1895, and 16-year-old Gemma Doyle is bored and impatient. Tired of her life in Bombay, India, she’s indignant that her mother continually rebuffs her requests to move to London. But Gemma’s teenage angst is quickly forgotten when she has a terrible vision, a frightening experience that sets off an astonishing series of events. In the space of a few shocking moments, her life is altered in ways she never could have imagined and suddenly, her days are far from boring.

After tragedy strikes, Gemma’s family falls apart, and her pompous brother deposits her at Spence Academy, a boarding school near London. Readers who enjoy the archetypal high-school-girl-triumphs-over-her-tormentors storyline will not be disappointed in the characters Bray has created: unfashionable scholarship student Ann; beautiful yet mean-spirited Pippa, and power-hungry Felicity become central to the plot and commit much mischief after lights-out. There is also the sophisticated but wise teacher, the uptight headmistress who just might have something to hide and, for good measure, a compelling-yet-creepy young man who utters cryptic warnings to an increasingly disconcerted yet determinedly curious Gemma.

And yes, Gemma uses her wit and creativity to win the girls over, learning along the way that she has ties to a former Spence student who possessed strange powers, too. As her visions become ever more vivid and strange, it becomes clear that her new talents are from an unearthly realm. She convinces the other girls to join her in learning more about these powers, and together they venture into a world where each discovers her own strengths, longings and weaknesses. As the cover indicates, there is a bit of bodice-ripping to be found in Bray’s book, but for the most part, corsets are loosened rather than torn off. Bray also explores family secrets, personal history and the ways in which knowledge, power and ego interact and affect one another. A Great and Terrible Beauty is a multi-layered, ambitious work that mixes history, magic, romance, humor and mystery, making it a good choice for a wide range of readers.

Linda M. Castellitto writes from Rhode Island.

A school visit to the community of Ketchikan, Alaska, inspired acclaimed children’s author Karen Hesse to write Aleutian Sparrow, a poignant new novel concerning a side of American history few people know about. In 1942, seeking control of the North Pacific, the Japanese invaded the Aleutian Islands. The American government evacuated the Aleut people to the towns of Wrangell and Ketchikan, and within a year American forces had regained control of the land, though many of the Aleuts were not allowed to move back for three years. Vera, who is part Aleut, realizes that her work is to know the ways of the Aleut people, and in this story she records what happens to them. “We are moving you to save you,” the American government says. But being relocated a thousand miles away from their beloved island to the “dark suffocation of the forest” around Ketchikan destroys a way of life for the natives. Eventually whooping cough, tuberculosis, measles, mumps and pneumonia kill a quarter of the evacuated population. Despite its tragic subject, Hesse’s novel reads lightly, telling young Vera’s story in unrhymed verse, a perfect match for her voice. Evon Zerbetz’s linocut illustrations, an attractive map and an author’s note provide solid support for Hesse’s impressionistic verse, and altogether yield an important, attractive volume. It’s a bleak story, though. When Vera returns home to Unalaska, her house has been destroyed, and the fishing grounds and beaches are slick with oil. The Aleut culture has been devastated, “not by the enemy,” Vera observes, “but by our own countrymen.” What little optimism remains is reflected in the last line of the novel: “We will find the will to begin again.” As she has done with other outstanding free-verse novels, including the Newbery Medal-winning Out of the Dust, Hesse tackles an important subject, skillfully develops character and setting, and balances dark themes with a poetic voice and a touch of hope. Dean Schneider teaches middle-school English in Nashville.

I heard an interesting piece on the radio the other day: a recent study revealed that women are attracted to men who do housework. The male announcers found this information hilarious and assumed that some powerful feminist organization had funded the study. But the truth was out: men who do housework are hot. Later that day, I read Flavor of the Week, in which teenage boys learn the power of food to lure the objects of their affections. Coincidence? I think not.

Cyril Bartholomew, shy and overweight, is a cooking genius. More comfortable in the kitchen than he is anywhere else, Cyril spends his time concocting recipes, reading cookbooks and working at the nearby American Institute of Culinary Arts, where he hopes to study after he graduates from high school. Cooking, besides providing him with piles of calorie-laden comfort food, is his ticket to success. But Cyril is no fool. He knows that kids at school would make fun of him if they knew about his passion, so he keeps his talent and his dreams for the future to himself. Sweet Cyril is the perfect boy-who-is-just-a-friend for beautiful Rose Mulligan. Rose confides in him about her romances and breakups. Little does she know that Cyril spends the better part of his cooking time fantasizing about her. When his pal Nick (a.k.a. “the supermodel”) moves back to town, Cyril watches painfully as his two beautiful friends fall for each other. But there’s a catch: Rose loves food, too, and Nick wants to cook for her. Anyone who has read Cyrano de Bergerac knows what’s coming next. Despite the connection to that legendary story, Tucker Shaw’s tale is as fresh as newly harvested green beans. The recipes that complement each chapter add to the story, and the characters are bright, complicated and familiar. The devastation that drives Cyril to eat an entire loaf of bread and sugar sandwiches brought me right back to my high school days, when I salved my own heartbreak with toasted almond fudge ice cream. Shaw has written a delightful story of innocent romance, heartbreak, growing up and good food that will leave his readers hoping for seconds.

Fresh out of high school, Keeba and Teesha Washington have no plans for the future. These sassy sisters, who star in Twists and Turns, Janet McDonald's terrific new coming-of-age novel, live in Brooklyn Heights and watch from the sidelines as their friends find their fortunes. Despite the challenges of life in the projects, Aisha is making some serious money with her TV commercials. Raven had a baby in high school, but her mother is raising the infant while she is away at college. Toya, their brainy friend, is getting a degree at a tech school so she can work with computers. Meanwhile, Keeba and Teesha spend their time listening to music and throwing loud but innocent parties, complete with Cheez Doodles and grape Kool-Aid.

Mrs. Washington is proud of her girls, but she knows they can do more. When she learns that her daughters have finally come up with a plan for the future, her spirits soar. For years, the girls have been braiding hair for friends. With a little help from Aisha, they turn their talent into a money-making enterprise and open a storefront business called TeeKee's Tresses. Do-gooder librarian Skye March, who recently moved into the neighborhood from a tony suburb, also helps the girls get started.

But things are a little harder than the young entrepreneurs anticipated. The details of paperwork prove to be daunting. And when a freewheeling politician encourages the gentrification of their neighborhood, rents are raised. Soon, the girls are faced with more challenges than ever before.

Award-winning author Janet McDonald, who was born and raised in Brooklyn, does a remarkable job of capturing the feel of this struggling community. Her portrayal of young girls on the edge of adulthood seems just right. One minute the sisters are daydreaming about dating hip-hop stars, and the next they are faced with difficult decisions about life and work.

McDonald has created two true-to-life teenagers that readers can really cheer for. Twists and Turns is an uplifting look at life in the projects and the real people who live there and love it.

The late Stephen Ambrose, who brought the Lewis and Clark expedition to life for adult readers in his best-selling book Undaunted Courage, does the same for young people in This Vast Land: A Young Man’s Journal of the Lewis and Clark Expedition. This fictional account of the famous westward excursion is Ambrose’s final book and his only work for young readers.

Eighteen-year-old George Shannon, an enterprising young man from Philadelphia anxious to join the expedition, convinces Captain Meriwether Lewis that neither his youth nor his genteel upbringing should be held against him. Lewis eventually accepts Shannon, charging him with the responsibility of keeping a journal of their travels.

Through Shannon’s words, Ambrose portrays the sense of wonder and wariness of this band of pioneers, braving the elements, boredom and other challenges in their quest to expand the nation one day, one mile at a time. As if to mirror the growth of the nation, Shannon develops from a relatively innocent youth to a hardened frontiersman. Though faced with dangerous situations and dishonorable dealings from various Native Americans, he refuses to generalize and condemn all: “I cannot agree with Capt. Louis [sic] that [they] are savages. Some of them are to be sure, . . . but this does not mean all Indians are.” Lewis and Clark complete their assignment, but the story does not end there. The narrative continues many years later, with Shannon, now an established attorney, hailing his colleagues in commemorative ceremonies, defending their actions and refuting historical inaccuracies.

Ambrose writes in the vernacular of the era, with intentionally incorrect spellings, which can be distracting at times. Parents and teachers should also be cautioned that there is a fair amount of violence in the book, as well as some brief but fairly explicit sexual material. Still, Ambrose’s novel is an imaginative and informative account that puts a human face on an expedition that helped to shape a nation. Ron Kaplan writes from Montclair, New Jersey.

Kids are fantasy literature’s natural audience. After all, children are exposed to magic from the moment their little eyes are able to focus on a page and find a cow jumping over a moon or a velveteen rabbit that becomes real.

In a story that almost seems like a fairy tale itself, a young author named Christopher Paolini, only 19, has emerged with a fantasy novel of amazing depth and scope geared specifically to his own demographic. Eragon is both the title and the protagonist of Paolini’s promised Inheritance trilogy. The story of a teenage boy who by happenstance—or perhaps design—becomes the partner of a dragon, the book is set in a place much like medieval Europe.

When Eragon’s discovery and subsequent adoption of the young dragon Saphira results in danger and tragedy for his family and his town, he goes on a quest for vengeance with the help of a local storyteller named Brom. His is a world in which magic, while real, is feared, a fear based in large part on the ascendance to power of the evil lord of the land, Galbatorix, the last of the Dragonriders.

Fantasy writing is a tricky business; some authors slap on a thin coat of backdrop for their characters to parade against, and others lay on detail after excruciating detail. Paolini strikes a happy medium, showing wisdom beyond his years. He gives his world and his characters depth and reality. The dragon Saphira is a sentient creature equipped with both intellect and instinct. She and Eragon bond mentally, and their relationship deepens as the novel progresses. The old man Brom is an enigma; he serves as Eragon’s guide and teacher, and there’s more to him than meets the eye.

Paolini started this novel when he was only 15. He self-published it, and when the son of author Carl Hiaasen happened upon a copy, the book soon found its way to Random House. Four years later, Paolini is at the starting line for what may be a long writing career. Eragon is an exciting beginning.

When Joyce Carol Oates wrote Big Mouth & Ugly Girl, her first book for young adults, I must admit I was skeptical. I figured, "Another adult writer thinks it will be easy to write for children." Luckily, my cynicism proved unjustified, and after reading Freaky Green Eyes, I realized that Oates' first novel for teens was not a fluke. Set in the chic suburbs of Seattle, Freaky Green Eyes is a chilling, suspenseful tale with an everyday family at its center. Handsome, well-respected Reid Pierson is a local celebrity a former football player turned television sportscaster with a beautiful wife named Krista. Their oldest child, Todd, a college athlete, is the son of Reid's first wife, who died in a boating accident. There's also 15-year-old Francesca, nicknamed Franky, a swimmer and a diver, and 10-year-old Samantha.

Underneath this perfect exterior, though, the foundations are cracking. When Franky is almost raped, her response to the violence brings out Freaky, her strong inner persona. Before the summer is done, she'll call on all of Freaky's instincts for survival. It's Franky who chronicles this dark story. Her mother is absent more and more, and Franky notices strange bruises on her wrists and neck. Everyone is tiptoeing around the house, and keeping Dad happy is the order of the day. Both parents, as it turns out, are in a battle for the hearts of their children.

Is Mom having an affair? Will the Piersons divorce or separate? And just who is to blame for the chasm developing between them? When Mom and her male friend, Mero, suddenly disappear, the novel takes a tragic turn. Franky's attempt to solve the mystery of her mother's whereabouts leads her to examine what is real and unreal in her own life. Her story moves along at the breathless pace that readers of all ages have come to expect from Oates. A reviewer friend once explained that the difference between an acceptable book and a great book is that each page of a great book begs to be turned. By that, or any other definition, Freaky Green Eyes is one of them.

“Families are the strangest things. They can drive you nuts, make you run screaming into the night, but there is still this connection.” With this remark, the narrator of Joan Bauer’s “Hardware,” the lead story in Necessary Noise, sets the tone for an excellent collection of narratives. Editor and writer Michael Cart invited leading young adult authors to contribute stories responding to the question “What does the word family mean to teenagers today?” The range of responses he received reflects the range of families in America. Themes include mental illness, homelessness, drugs and physical abuse, but these darker issues are well balanced by the lighter, humorous stories that begin and end the collection. “Hardware” is about a family and community responding to a giant corporation’s moving in and taking over, driving a family hardware store out of business. It’s a serious topic made humorous by Bauer’s wonderful characterizations. In “Snowbound,” the story by Lois Lowry that concludes the volume, Evelyn Collier arrives home from college with her new boyfriend Loosh. Everyone, including Evelyn, comes to hate this interloper, who sleeps naked, says Whittier “sucks,” wipes his nose on his sleeve and doesn’t eat “mammal.” The story, framed by lines from John Greenleaf Whittier’s “Snowbound,” humorously delineates how a family regains its equilibrium after disruption by an alien presence. Sonya Sones, a master of the free verse novel, delivers “Dr. Jekyll and Sister Hyde,” a powerful story about an abusive older sister. Lucy chases Sasha, her younger sibling, down the hallway “like a fire-breathing dragon, hands clawing the air at my back.” She torments Sasha, making her fear for her life at times. It’s a dark story, but there’s hope: Lucy goes off to college in 739 days. Along with the range of themes in this anthology is a range of writing styles, from conventionally structured works to stories written in dialogue and free verse. Traditional nuclear families are a minority now, and it’s nice to see an excellent collection that reflects reality. An author of other solid short story collections, including Tomorrowland, Cart offers here another fine and important volume. Dean Schneider teaches middle school English in Nashville.

Traveling is invariably an adventure for children. Their fresh eyes and minds can make even the most mundane trip memorable. The short stories in Donald R. Gallo’s marvelous collection, Destination Unexpected, are all about the journeys young people make, both literally and figuratively, from city to country, from ignorance to understanding.

Author Joyce Sweeney leads off the anthology with “Something Old, Something New,” the story of a black teenager’s bus trip across town to accept an award a small journey with big consequences. Distances increase in Margaret Peterson Harris’ “My People,” when a shy girl from Appalachia journeys to Mercer University for a week-long camp for high school students. There, she finds undreamed-of horizons opening up for her. The teenage girl in “Tourist Trapped,” by Ellen Wittlinger, travels from Kansas to Cape Cod for a summer, but her horizons are far from open.

Not all of the trips featured here involve mileage. Some of the most important journeys take place in the mind, as David Lubar’s “Bread on the Water” demonstrates. The story follows a young man on a journey of conscience, as he gets a lesson in charity from a friend. Not all of these young characters are innocent, either. Will Weaver’s story, “Bad Blood,” concerns the youngest member of a family of grifters, and his dogged quest to convince an old woman to give him a classic Corvette. In “Keep Smiling,” Alex Flinn’s protagonist seeks redemption after a drunk driving fatality, and Kimberly Willis Holt shows how an adopted Chinese girl and her big brother are drawn together in “August Lights.” Travel can be both an internal and external experience, but the most wonderful journey is, in the end, the one made from adolescence to adulthood. Destination Unexpected is a fine tribute to that journey. Serious, contemporary literature for young people, it’s a book that teen readers will enjoy.

With her mind on the movies and a voice as fresh and electric as her personality, Ruby Millers loves films going to them, talking about them, writing scripts for them. She especially loves beginnings, the part before the movie starts: “When the lights go dim, and you’re sitting in the dark with your popcorn,” Ruby says, “. . . At that moment anything is possible.” Ruby even has a seven-page script-in-progress to send to Steven Spielberg. Much of her experience, her references about life, and her accumulated wisdom over 12-and-a-half years come from the movies. Her father’s favorite, before he left, was Groundhog Day, and her neighbor reminds her of Almira Gulch in The Wizard of Oz. But Ruby’s real life isn’t so cinematic. She’s heartbroken by her father’s absence and imagines him as a movie hero, dodging assassins’ bullets or flying Air Force One. She dreams of his return home. Her mother is dating a balding podiatrist, and the big event in her life at the moment is the loss of her brother’s wooly mammoth toy. To make matters worse, she can’t seem to shake Big Skinny and Mouse, two boys in her class at Rutherford B. Hayes Middle School. When the boys spray-paint an ode to Ruby on the river wall near her house, and she goes to take care of the mess, all three end up snagged by the law. At the police station, where the desk sergeant looks just like the Tin Man (without the tin), the trio is assigned 50 hours of community service. Thus begins an unexpected relationship with Big Skinny, Mouse and Ed the podiatrist, who turns out to be involved with the boys through the Big Brothers Program. The gang collaborates on a mural to beautify the wall along the drainage ditch that was once the Los Angeles River, and Ruby continues to fantasize about finding her father. Hollywood makes dreams come true, and sometimes, too, as Theresa Nelson shows us in this terrific book, they come true in the lives of twelve-year-old girls.

Dean Schneider teachers middle school English in Nashville.

Unlike E.R. Frank's acclaimed previous novels, Life Is Funny and America, both prismatic portraits of urban adolescents traumatically coming of age, Friction is structurally straightforward and seems relatively tame—at least on the surface.

Suburban, soccer-loving, 12-year-old Alex has everything going for her: supportive parents and a nurturing alternative school where her teacher, Simon, is also a friend. The trouble starts when a new girl, Stacy, something of a drama queen, points out that Simon is also a hottie. Next, she suggests that Simon is hot for Alex, and vice versa.

You'd think that, with all the resources available to her, Alex could figure out a way to quash this insinuation. But she's just young and innocent enough, with inchoate desires of her own, to fall victim instead to Stacy's manipulations. Insisting that "it's natural for guys and girls to like each other," Stacy spins out her soap-operatic theories: that Alex's best friend, Tim, has a crush on Alex, thwarted because Alex is in turn hung up on Simon. For all that Alex protests (the scenario strikes her as "completely weird and gross"), she finds her face growing hot, her stomach "clamped tight." She does make repeated, if vague, efforts to turn to her parents for advice, but they try to joke her out of her discomfort ("Aren't you a little old to think romantic interest is gross?") and suggest that Stacy is just "acting out" to cope with the stress of being the new kid. The situation soon gets worse much worse. Stacy always seems to be on hand to catch Simon with Alex in the midst of a friendly gesture, and she rumor-mongers relentlessly. And when these allegations come to naught (although they do alienate Tim from Alex), she escalates her campaign, claiming that Simon has molested her.

The author makes it subtly clear that Stacy's compulsion to sexualize may have its roots in abuse. Frank, whose profession as social worker lends psychological veracity to her considerable descriptive skills, provides no easy out for her characters. Friction is a bold, perceptive and ultimately unnerving account in which people get hurt, some irrevocably. It's an illuminating novel that will help young readers understand themselves and adults a little bit better.

Sandy MacDonald is a writer based in Cambridge and Nantucket, Massachusetts.