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NonfictionMusic

Heartbreak Is the National Anthem

Review by Kelly Blewett

To read Rolling Stones columnist Rob Sheffield’s Heartbreak Is the National Anthem: How Taylor Swift Reinvented Pop Music is to slide into a rich, somewhat zany, kaleidoscopic and wildly enthusiastic discussion of the greatness of Taylor Swift. While the structure of the book is loosely chronological, the substance of the chapters has little in common with a traditional biography. Instead, the book takes detours into particular anecdotes that will satisfy both deeply devoted fans and those newer to this raging cultural phenomenon.

I came to Heartbreak as a new fan, having followed the lead of my tween daughter. I’d made friendship bracelets and even seen the Eras Tour, but I didn’t really understand how the singer of 2006’s “Our Song” became the prolific author of 11 studio albums that ranged from the synth-pop of 1989 to the dark cottagecore of evermore. Sheffield shows Swift’s trajectory—one of constant reinvention without letting her old personas go. His view of Swift’s evolution is more front-row than most; as a journalist, he first listened to many of her new albums in her Tribeca apartment, where she held release parties because she knew the rooms weren’t bugged.

Read our interview with Rob Sheffield, author of ‘Heartbreak Is the National Anthem.’

While Sheffield does offer glimpses of encounters with the songwriter, the book mainly deals with Swift from a knowledgeable superfan’s perspective, geeking out over minutia like her use of the word “nice” and her journey to releasing the 10-minute version of “All Too Well,” which he regards as her best song. His observations contain a fantastic level of detail, drawn from both his own close readings and a wealth of secondary sources. Readers will learn about Swift’s signature bridges, the power of her fifth tracks and the poetry of her lyrics. I will never hear the song “happiness” the same way after reading Sheffield’s story about it: His friend had an ugly cry while listening to it, wondering how Taylor, a single woman in her 30s, could know so precisely what it feels like to get divorced in your 40s. “It’s like she’s a witch, but a good witch,” the friend said.

Readers will do well to read Heartbreak Is the National Anthem with access to Swift’s abundant collection of albums, as Sheffield’s expansive, expressive biography will inspire you to tune in to the superstar’s hits and deep cuts.

 

Rob Sheffield’s kaleidoscopic, wildly enthusiastic biography, Heartbreak Is the National Anthem, will satisfy both superfans and those less familiar with the prolific phenom Taylor Swift.
NonfictionHistoryCultural History

Golden Years

Review by Henry L. Carrigan Jr.

There will soon be more Americans over 65 than under 18. In the compelling, informative study, Golden Years: How Americans Invented and Reinvented Old Age, sociologist James Chappel explores the development of the old age movement in America and attempts to imagine how both individuals and policymakers can address our “gray future.”

Drawing on a wealth of historical, social and economic data, Chappel traces the various ways that Americans have described and addressed aging. In the late 19th and early 20th centuries, individuals on farms and in factories worked until disability or death. By the mid-1930s, though, the passage of the Social Security Act sent a message to older Americans that they deserved dignity and security, even if they had stopped working. As the number of older Americans grew in the latter part of the 20th century, both government agencies and organizations in the private sector, such as AARP, attempted to enact policies and to create opportunities that would allow older Americans to live a dignified old age. (First called the American Association of Retired Persons, AARP now goes by its acronym alone, because people do not need to be retired to join.)

Chappel shows, though, that these policies “had always been premised first and foremost on the needs of one class of people: middle-class, married, white couples.” For example, older people with disabilities were left to fend for themselves by Medicare in the 1960s, and many of them were shunted into nursing homes. In addition, older Black Americans often faced (and still face) discriminatory treatment in nursing homes. Chappel highlights the work of activists like Black sociologist Jacquelyne Jackson, who lobbied Congress seeking new policies that would “recognize the specific realities and challenges confronting older Black people.” Another challenge to older Americans, Chappel observes, is that, by the end of the 20th century, the government began to increasingly push the burden of growing older back on families and individuals, often creating financial insecurity across generations.

Since we’re all growing older, how can we work together to shape decisions that will affect the ways we live out our old age? Golden Years is sometimes dense, but it’s worth the effort. Chappel offers a thought-provoking glimpse of how America has tried to imagine the needs and value of an aging population in the past, and how it might best understand and deal with a graying populace.

James Chappel’s thought-provoking Golden Years offers strategies to understand and address the needs of America’s aging population.
NonfictionNature

Good Nature

Review by Deborah Hopkinson

Acclaimed scientist Kathy Willis trained as a paleoecologist, a fact, she notes, “that can stop the conversation dead at parties, since not many people know what it is (never mind how to spell it).” In fact, her field of study is fascinating: Willis and her peers study the fossilized remains of plants to reconstruct how vegetation has changed over time in response to climatic changes and human impact.

While you might expect someone who studies plants for a living to also be a keen gardener, Willis admits it wasn’t until she served as director of science at the Royal Botanic Gardens, Kew, in 2013 that she found herself looking up from her microscope to enjoy the vast array of plants around her. And not just the plants, but also the garden visitors who “stopped to inhale their fragrances, bask in their shade, or reach out to touch leaves or stroke bark.” She became intrigued by the question of the positive health impact of plants on humans.

While the notion that spending time in nature has physiological or psychological benefits is not new, Willis shows an exceptional ability to weave together science, history and personal experience in her engaging Good Nature: Why Seeing, Smelling, Hearing and Touching Plants Is Good for Our Health. Fans of the BBC program Gardeners’ World and its coverage of the Royal Horticultural Society Chelsea Flower Show will be especially delighted to read the chapter titled “Flower Power,” in which Willis provides research-based (and highly entertaining) information about the positive effects of flowers. We learn about the evolutionary history of flowers, the calming impact of a vase of pink roses on workers’ desks, and research that suggests yellow flowers may make us more creative. Elsewhere, she details the benefits of nature sounds, plant scents, “digging for health” and even “the proven health benefits of tree hugging.”

“We cannot survive without a diverse nature around us,” Willis writes. Good Nature convincingly argues that we must protect plants and make them a priority in built environments. After all, she concludes, “We need nature more than it needs us.”

Paleoecologist Kathy Willis explores the surprising physiological and psychological benefits of plants on human health in her entertaining, absorbing Good Nature.
Mystery & SuspenseMysteryCozy Mystery

Dominoes, Danzón, and Death

Review by Jamie Orsini

Food anthropologist and cooking show star Miriam Quinones-Smith is back in a delicious new installment of the Caribbean Kitchen cozy mystery series.

Miriam’s life is busier and better than ever. She and her husband, Robert, are raising two young children while sharing a home with her parents in Miami. Miriam’s so-called “Spanglish cooking show,” Abuela Approved, is thriving. And she hasn’t had to solve a murder in three years. But Miriam’s sleuthing-free streak comes to an end when her boss, Delvis, is declared a suspect in a murder that happened moments after filming the show. Then, a body is discovered at the site of Robert’s latest construction project, leading to serious disagreements between archeologists, academics and local tribal representatives. Plus, Miriam’s snobby mother-in-law recruits her to investigate a series of threatening notes sent to their family. There’s nothing Miriam takes more seriously than protecting her loved ones, so she dives into investigating the multiple mysteries.

Author Raquel V. Reyes sets the fun, fast-paced Dominoes, Danzón, and Death three years after the last book in the series (Barbacoa, Bomba, and Betrayal), allowing Miriam and her family to grow and change. Readers need not be familiar with the previous mysteries to enjoy this one, but fans of the series will enjoy seeing the characters flourish in new roles.

Miriam is a delightful character: She’s intelligent, hardworking and dedicated to her family. Between raising two young children in a bustling, intergenerational household and hosting her popular show, Miriam is a busy woman. Still, she manages to solve three mysteries with her quick thinking and determination. Reyes excels at balancing her many storylines in an engaging manner; the multiple mysteries are never overwhelming.

The novel is elevated by its engagement with Caribbean cuisine and culture, and Florida and Native American history, while Spanish speakers will appreciate how Miriam and her family communicate in an authentic blend of Spanish and English. Those who aren’t familiar with Spanish need not worry: Reyes skillfully provides context and translations for their conversations. No matter your background, there’s a lot to learn from Dominoes, Danzón, and Death—and a lot to love.

TV chef Miriam Quinones-Smith has three mysteries to solve in the engaging and endlessly interesting Dominoes, Danzón, and Death.
Young Adult

Dust

Review by Tami Orendain

After a flood wipes out her family’s Ohio farm, Thea’s father decides to move them to Bloodless Valley, Colorado, where they spend every day trying to coax life from the dry ground. Struggling with her father’s strict rules and her undiagnosed partial deafness, 16-year-old Thea’s world is limited to her half-built home and the small cafe in town where she’s allowed to work. But as she gets to know other residents of the valley, including Louisa, the kind cafe owner; Sam, a community advocate; and Ray, a boy her age who’s deaf too, Thea starts to consider if the valley could come to feel like home. But the dust storms outside are getting worse, and Thea starts having strange dreams—ones that tell of a huge disaster coming her family’s way.

Dust tells Thea’s story, which is one of change and transition as she learns to see the world beyond her tight family unit. Her father’s rigid view of the world grows even more strange to Thea as she meets new people: Louisa shows her incredible generosity, Sam introduces her to different people in the community, and Ray is the first person she’s met who relates to her experience with deafness. Through these relationships, Thea experiences lifestyles vastly different from her own. Her world widens, asking her to question what she really believes about relationships, love, education and who she wants to be.

Dust takes a stark, honest look at the valley’s barrenness: Thea and her family struggle to grow their usual crops from the dry, dusty ground, and resources like water start to dwindle. But Stine also displays the vibrancy of desert life, not only in its unique floral and fauna but also in the community built by its dynamic cast of characters. From Helen, the artist who finds inspiration in light, to Elmer, the mysterious writer who sleeps in the community library, Thea’s surrounded by new perspectives. The book makes no judgment on the various ways characters choose to make a life in the desert, instead showing the importance of community and cooperation, even and especially between people who are different.

Dust is a thoughtful, sincere exploration of climate change and disability, one which captures the longing, confusion and hope of the teenage experience in a realistic and heartwarming way.

Dust captures teenage longing, confusion and hope in a realistic and heartwarming way.
FictionLiterary Fiction

City of Night Birds

Review by Sydney Hankin

When ballet dancer Natalia Leonova returns to the Mariinsky Theatre in St. Petersburg, she is no longer a determined corps member, yearning to make her mark and gain a more prominent role. She’s spent her years away soloing in every major production and traveling across the globe, accumulating the accolades of a renowned prima ballerina. Yet, in a startling turn of events, Natalia is back to take beginner lessons with the teachers of her youth. Everything has changed after her accident.

City of Night Birds is a deeply emotional portrayal of a dancer past the peak of her abilities, trying desperately to regain her sense of self after her body, her loved ones and her life’s work have let her down. Natalia’s story is told in a fluid dual narrative, with half the novel spent following the path of the ballerina’s decades-long career and the other half tracking Natalia’s present-day classes and rehearsals. In both narratives, City of Night Birds is utterly immersive. Author Juhea Kim describes ballet technique, culture and history in such a vivid way that they will quickly become meaningful to an unfamiliar reader, and landscapes of St. Petersburg, Moscow and Paris are sketched with the same palpability. Kim’s skill allows her to carry off this ambitious premise while still giving the novel the comfortable feel of a rainy day read .

As Natalia joins new dance companies, falls in and out of love and finds her place in the intense world of Russian ballet, the art form is the constant by which all else is measured—a medium used to illustrate the complicated relationships Natalia has with her mother, dear friends and long-term rivals. While developed to a lesser extent, the supporting characters inform Kim’s portrayal of her protagonist, adding depth and nuance to Natalia’s remarkable defiance and resilience.

For anyone who has ever been transfixed by the stage, City of Night Birds is not one to miss. The novel reverently celebrates dance, firmly declaring the sanctity of each performance while shedding a necessary light on the acute human costs.

Juhea Kim’s City of Night Birds reverently celebrates dance, describing ballet technique, culture and history so vividly that they will quickly become meaningful to an unfamiliar reader.
NonfictionSocial ScienceHistory

Custodians of Wonder

Review by Sarah McCraw Crow

“So often, we hear stories about the first person to do something: the innovators, the pioneers,” Eliot Stein writes in his introduction to Custodians of Wonder: Ancient Customs, Profound Traditions, and the Last People Keeping Them Alive. “But rarely is there a whisper for the last person to carry on a tradition, or a pause to look back and consider how these rites have shaped us and the places we come from.” Stein offers more than a whisper as he highlights 10 such customs around the world, profiling the women and men who preserve them.

Some of these customs are food- or craft-based, like the rare Sardinian pasta so fine that it’s called su filindeu (threads of God); and an ancient West African percussion instrument called a balafon that has been protected by a tiny village for 800 years. Others are rituals or jobs, like that of the night watchman in Ystad, Sweden, who every night climbs 14 stories of a 13th-century church to a bell tower to keep watch over the village, blowing a horn every 15 minutes to declare that all is well.

Stein sets his scenes in vividly painted settings. Introducing the temple village of Aranmula, on India’s southwestern coast, he writes, “Coconut trees swooped low like Nike swooshes over the water’s edge. . . . The night before, hot, heavy raindrops the size of nickels had fallen sideways in sheets.” Each chapter offers an in-depth profile of a practitioner, like Sudhammal J., Aranmula’s 48-year-old “Secret Lady Keeper,” who carries on her family’s ancient craft of melting tin, copper and other metals to make a highly reflective mirror believed to reveal one’s true self. Throughout these profiles, Stein threads cultural, geographic and political history, drawing out a few key details, and compressing centuries of history into a few paragraphs.

Despite the subtitle, not all the book’s customs are ancient. Asia’s last film poster painter practices a 20th-century craft. Nor are all the customs disappearing: The Japanese maker of traditional fermented soy sauce has seen demand grow, and he’s committed to helping others learn traditional techniques. Ultimately, Custodians of Wonder is a hopeful book, making the case that seemingly idiosyncratic and antiquated practices in distant corners of the world still matter; they reveal a particular place’s identity, and offer comfort, community and beauty even through centuries of change.

Eliot Stein’s vivid Custodians of Wonder documents the last people maintaining some of the world’s ancient cultural traditions, and proves that comfort, community and beauty never get old.
NonfictionMemoir

CABIN

Review by Linda M. Castellitto

In his mid-20s, Patrick Hutchison felt adrift: Despite his “dream of becoming a gonzo journalist travel writer-type person,” he worked in a Seattle office as a copywriter. He was embarrassed by his dearth of “proof-of-responsibility milestones” and seeming lack of purpose compared to those around him.

What’s a stressed out guy to do? Well, as he describes with quippy humor and refreshing honesty in his debut, CABIN: Off the Grid Adventures With a Clueless Craftsman, Hutchison decided to buy real estate. The year was 2013; the property, a 120-square-foot cabin in tiny Index, Washington, listed on Craigslist; the price, $7,500, paid to a tugboat captain named Tony.

If you’re thinking that sounds pretty gonzo, you’re not wrong—and Hutchison’s story only gets more interesting, funny and inspiring as he recounts how he threw himself into home ownership and, over the course of several years with help from friends and neighbors, slowly but surely turned the cabin into a charming Cascade Mountains retreat.

At first, it was “the sort of place where you wish your shoes had shoes,” a dirty, diminutive box with no Wi-Fi, cell service, electricity or plumbing, let alone a stable floor. But ignorance was bliss (“Like a new parent with a hideous baby, my eyes glazed over the flaws”), and Hutchison figured out things as he went along: He conducted endless research, made countless supply purchases and experienced the joy and pain of a complicated long-term DIY project. 

Anyone who’s desperately wanted a chainsaw (even if they don’t know how to use it) will relate to Hutchison “half expecting balloons to fall from the ceiling in celebration of such a rad purchase,” and anyone who’s dealt with a mudslide or other natural disaster will empathize with his anxiety at being cut off from the cabin for months. But less specifically, those who dream of shaking things up will find motivation in CABIN and Hutchison’s dogged determination to create the adventurous life he’d always wanted: “Even when required by circumstance, the road less traveled is often the way to go.”

Quippy humor and refreshing honesty abound in CABIN, Patrick Hutchison’s memoir about his journey to restore a filthy, dilapidated cabin in the Cascade Mountains.
NonfictionArtPhotographyLGBTQ+Art

Casa Susanna

Review by Laura Hutson Hunter

“Two antique dealers discover a stash of 340 photographs at a flea market.” Thus begins Casa Susanna: The Story of the First Trans Network in the United States, 1959-1968, one of the most captivating photography books in recent memory. Casa Susanna was a secluded bit of property with a few bungalows and a barn in the Catskills. In the 1950s and ’60s, the property belonged to Marie Tornell and her wife, a trans woman who was known to friends as Susanna Valenti. Susanna was a cover girl and contributing editor to Transvestia magazine, and she and Marie opened up their home to other like-minded people—including those who were assigned male at birth but wanted to live authentically as women, if only on holiday. A textured dust jacket gives the volume a sensual quality, so that opening its pages is like admiring a silk taffeta blouse. The photograph chosen for the book’s cover—one among hundreds of candid, unaffected shots—shows four different smartly dressed women pointing their cameras at a friend mid-pose. It speaks to the number of women involved in the project, and also the importance they saw of documenting each other. Elsewhere, the well-coiffed women playing Scrabble or sitting around a dining table at Casa Susanna are charmingly ordinary. Facsimiles of letters, magazine articles and even a handful of Susanna’s own advice column clips, “Susanna Says,” open up a whole world in a few hundred pages. The sheer volume of pictures included will open eyes to the existence of trans people before the contemporary age.

Casa Susanna is a sumptuous volume of photography that chronicles a midcentury trans enclave.
Children's & YAMiddle GradeChildren's

Black Girl You Are Atlas

Review by Alice Cary

Literary powerhouses Renée Watson and Ekua Holmes combine forces to create Black Girl You Are Atlas, a phenomenal poetry collection celebrating sisterhood, womanhood, Black culture and the power of family and friendship. This book revels in the promise of adolescence while acknowledging its accompanying landmines of fear, self-doubt and uncertainty. 

Renowned poet, novelist and Newbery Honoree (Piecing Me Together) Watson offers high-impact, widely accessible poems that address topics like her childhood, the teenage journey from innocence to awareness, and current events (through poems for Michelle Obama and Breonna Taylor). Verses in poems such as “How to Survive Your Teen Years” and “Sixteen Reasons to Smile” are filled with comfort and joy. No matter the subject, Watson’s words resonate on a personal level, as in these lines from “Turning Seven”: “I will always remember this birthday as the one where I met / my dad and lost my uncle and learned that men are good at / disappointing and disappearing.” Black Girl You Are Atlas explores the world in depth: In contrast to “Turning Seven,” an ode to her older brother (“King”) concludes, “And when there’s all this talk about what Black men are not, / I think about all he is.”

Caldecott Honor recipient Holmes’ torn paper collage and mixed-media art is the perfect accompaniment, featuring joyous and brightly colored figures among bits of newsprint and other ephemera. Shimmering with radiance at first glance, they reveal even more layers of meaning upon closer examination.

Black Girl You Are Atlas compels young readers to honor their past while creating their own paths forward. As “Lessons on Being a Sky Walker” urges: “When they tell you / the sky is the limit, vow to go past that.”

In Black Girl You Are Atlas, renowned poet, novelist and Newbery Honoree Renee Watson offers high-impact, widely accessible poems that address universal topics, accompanied by joyous artwork from Caldecott winner Ekua Holmes
FictionPopular Fiction

Bluebird Day

Review by Carla Jean Whitley

Former competitive skier Wylie Potts is trying to find a new identity. Her mother and coach, World Cup and Olympic medalist skier Claudine Potts, put so much pressure on Wylie that she began to experience panic attacks and, eventually, walked away from the sport. She’s found a career she loves at an art museum and a boyfriend with athletic interests of his own, Dan.

Wylie and Dan have been training for the BodyFittest Duo competition in Berlin. She sees it as a chance at redemption after quitting skiing, a decision that fractured her relationship with her mom. But when an injury sidelines Dan from the two-person competition, Wylie turns to her mother in desperation.

As it happens, Claudine, whose bad knee ended her own ski career, is in Switzerland, trying to find closure for a secret shame of her own that she can’t allow Wylie to uncover. Wylie joins her on the way to the competition, and the two women are faced with their own insecurities, bad behavior and opportunities for redemption. Together, perhaps they can win and reclaim both Wylie’s pride and their relationship.

In Bluebird Day, journalist and author Megan Tady (Super Bloom) takes readers on an alternately hilarious and touching romp through Zermatt, Switzerland. Switching between Wylie’s and Claudine’s perspectives, Tady delves deeply into both their psyches, and with the patience of a gifted therapist, she uncovers the wounds that fractured their relationship. Their interactions are sometimes painful to read—just as a mother-daughter argument can be difficult to witness. But Tady knows when to pull back. She offers just enough pain for readers to understand the characters’ plight.

Throughout the Potts women’s adventure, Tady tosses in references to Swiss icons and ski history, introduces an entertaining supporting cast—a “motley crew that’s sworn off extravagance in the heart of a luxurious town”—and includes conversation about climate change. Bluebird Day is the ideal read for anyone looking for a fast-paced, lighthearted novel you could enjoy equally beside a crackling fire or at the beach. Tady delivers a cozy tale with layers as numerous as midseason snowpack.

In Bluebird Day, Megan Tady delivers a cozy tale with layers as numerous as midseason snowpack, delving into the psyches of mother and daughter competitive skiers Claudine and Wylie.
Science Fiction & FantasyScience Fiction

And the Mighty Will Fall

Review by Chris Pickens

Just before K.B. Wagers’ latest military sci-fi novel, And the Mighty Will Fall, takes off at warp speed, we’re met with a short but important epigraph. “It is the mission of the Near-Earth Orbital Guard to ensure the safety and security of the Sol system and the space around any additional planets that human beings call home.” And with that, we’re launched into a tense struggle that’s about to play out at an electric pace above a colonized Mars. Hang on tight—we’re in for some chop. 

Commander Maxine Carmichael, a highly decorated NeoG officer, lands aboard the Mars Orbital Station (MOS). Today, her commanding officer, Admiral Ford, will transfer the MOS from NeoG control to Mars Civilian Command. The people of Mars deserve to maintain the highly strategic station, which controls all traffic to and from the cities of the planet. But just as Max makes her way to the observation deck, everything goes to hell. Klaxons blare, lights flash and there’s gunfire coming from the docking bay. Someone is seizing control of the station in its most vulnerable moment. But who? And why?

In the fourth entry to their NeoG series, Wagers absolutely hits the gas. The pace is fast and sharp, perspectives whipping from Max and her attempt to evade capture on the MOS to various NeoG commanders and other groups coordinating a response in real time. It’s a hostage situation in space, with various muddled motivations slowly uncovered as the crisis continues. Like Bruce Willis sneaking through the air ducts in Nakatomi Plaza, Max serves as a stalwart heroine, focused and capable. But fear not: Jenks, Sapphi, D’Arcy, Nika and more names familiar to series regulars all play a part in the rescue operation.

For those like me who have not read a NeoG novel before, the book includes a helpful list of characters, which was a necessary reference early on. But even while I was still getting up to speed with the world and its players, the sheer force of the story drove me to ignore any momentary confusion. This is a razor’s-edge action caper, satisfying throughout. Get ready for a heck of a ride.

K.B. Wager’s fourth NeoG novel is a razor’s-edge action caper set on a station orbiting Mars—Die Hard, but in space.
Children's & YAPicture BookChildren's

Beware the Dragon and the Nozzlewock

Review by Deborah Hopkinson

Young readers devour books in graphic format, whether they’re novels, graphic nonfiction, traditional comics—or innovative works like Vikram Madan’s newest, Beware the Dragon and the Nozzlewock: A Graphic Novel Poetry Collection Full of Surprising Characters!. Having worked as an engineer before returning to his first love of “rhyming and doodling,” Madan has created more than a dozen books, including the poetry collection A Hatful of Dragons.

Madan’s latest is funny and quirky—the sort of book you give to kids who claim not to like poetry, as well as those who do. The interconnected poems feature goofy, silly creatures like ghosts who turn into ghost guppies, squishosaurs, and the Nozzlewock (you’ll have to read to find out more). Throughout, Mandan’s background in STEM shines through, in poems on topics like wormholes and scientists. 

Madan celebrates wordplay, and doesn’t shy away from unusual or long words. As the squishosaurs explain, “Where other dinos trot or plod, / We undulate and flow. / Our protoplasmic pseudopods / Are silent as the snow.” Madan’s artistic style is appealing; the panels vary in size and are easy to read, making this a great choice for readers new to the graphic format.

Bursting with energy and bright images, Beware the Dragon and the Nozzlewock is smart, sassy and perfect for reading alone or out loud together. It’s already on this reviewer’s list for a certain 8-year-old! 

Bursting with energy and bright images, Beware the Dragon and the Nozzlewock is smart, sassy and perfect for reading alone or out loud together.

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