Curious about Mystery & Adventure

 

Image source: jamesponti.com

Ponti, James. City Spies. 2020. 384 pages. LP: $19.99, ISBN: 9781534414914. Grades 3-7

James Ponti has a background as a screenwriter and television producer, and the fast-paced plot, richly-detailed real-world settings, and thrilling mission of City Spies reflect his experiences. This adventure book is above all else, fun, and therefore appealing to audiences of different reading levels and interests. From the moment readers meet Sara, threatened with incarceration in a juvenile detention facility after hacking into her crooked foster family's records, they'll want her to land on her feet. Ponti wastes no time making sure she does by way of 'Mother,' who is actually male and the head of a spy ring of kids working for the British version of the CIA, M16. This eccentric spy with a melancholic back story of his own, gathers hard-luck kids with exceptional skills to help solve mysteries and bring justice. It's a formula that's familiar (Spy School, The Mysterious Benedict Society, The Sherlock Society) yet kept fresh here by Ponti's tight plot and attention to details.

City Spies moves quickly, shuttling the reader through New York, Scotland, Australia, and Paris, but these settings are treated reverently and not as mere backdrops. Scotland's Edinburgh is urbane while overcast and dreary, its coastline bracing and fresh compared to the cramped part of Brooklyn Sara leaves. She is re-christened Brooklyn, and joins Rio, Sydney, Paris, and Kat(hmandu) as a trainee spy skilled at hacking. While her spying talents seem to develop pretty quickly, keeping with the book's fast pace, Ponti avoids painting her, and all his characters, as uni-dimensional. Her foster family is not comically cruel but genuinely so, her bravado masks a deep longing to fit in with the other kids and finally find a family. Other characters are also carefully drawn and reflect the diversity of the world's cultures and, sadly, the different ways societies fail children. Even Mother is not merely a mysterious odd- ball, but a man permanently disfigured by a fire, betrayed by his wife, and desperate to find his children.

City Spies relies on a simple good vs. evil framing: the M16 kid spies vs. the nefarious and shadowy Umbra crime syndicate which attempts to hack the internet and cause chaos across vital systems (governments, hospitals, private records) throughout the world. This straightforward framing serves the story well since the details of Umbra's plans and the complexity of inter-related computer networks are complex enough. For readers, the fact that something they rely on almost without thinking could be compromised is not only troubling, but realistic as ransom ware attacks are not just fantasy.  Brooklyn plays a critical role in thwarting Umbra's attacks, solidifying her place in the group and setting up space for City Spies to become a series kids will want to check out.

Image source: Penguin Random House

Soontornvat, Christina. The Last Mapmaker. 2022. 368 pages. LP: $17.99, ISBN: 9781536204957. Ages 8-12

Can we rise above our origins and achieve not only respectability, but greatness? Sai grapples with this desire for family honor, represented in the golden links of a family's lineal chain, in Soontornvat's, The Last Mapmaker. Sai can never have a lineal bracelet because she is low-born, living with her con-man father in a fantasy kingdom inspired by Thai mythology. However, she can become respectable and reach beyond her circumstances by serving as an apprentice to the kindly mapmaker, Paiyoon, who takes her along on a voyage to discover and map the far reaches of the seas. Their adventure becomes complicated when Sai realizes that the lands she and Paiyoon are tasked with mapping are actually being colonized and their environments degraded by royal decree. 

The Last Mapmaker does not fit neatly into one particular children's book genre--it is a high fantasy with  dragons and a beautifully-realized world of its own, it is a mystery as Sai attempts to work out what exactly is the goal of her kingdom's mapping mission, and it is a fast-moving, unpredictable adventure on the high seas. From pursuing the dragon and attempting to uncover the secrets of the mysterious Sunderlands, all while working to improve her own societal standing, Sai grows to realize that the dragon is not the enemy and the Sunderlands are not merely places to map with resources to exploit. After the dragon unleashes a terrible storm, thereby sacrificing himself, Sai realizes being high-born does not necessarily mean being righteous.

This is a unique book that raises issues not often considered in children's fantasy and adventure--the role of poverty and class status in determining one's future, the motivations behind kingdoms' desires to explore, and the possibility for understanding, if not reconciliation, with a parent who has disappointed. Readers may find the plot, while fast moving, a little confusing given its twists and turns. In the end, Sai is completely changed in her view of both her world and her place in it, changes supported by what she learns on her adventures.

Curious about Fantasy and Science Fiction

 

Image source: Penguin Random House

Stead, Rebecca. When You Reach Me. 2009. 208 pages. LP: $17.99, ISBN: 9780385737425. Ages 8-12

From Mr. Scrooge visiting his younger self in Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol to Meg searching for her father in Madeleine L'Engle's A Wrinkle in Time, time travel has fascinated young readers of science fiction. Rebecca Stead's When You Reach Me presents time travels in two ways: the main character, Miranda, attempts to help save a friend's life with the assistance of a time traveler and young readers also get to travel to life in late 1970s New York City. 

For today's children, the setting of When You Reach Me may be almost as unfamiliar and exotic as the concept of time travel itself. Miranda and her friends rely on watches to know what time it is--mobile phones are decades away. She and her best friend, Sal, are 'latchkey kids--' their single moms trust them to walk home from school, let themselves into their urban apartments, and start their homework without supervision. Miranda and her friends create their own routines free of adults, built around delis, bodegas, and slightly sketchy stretches of city blocks. They even work for sandwich ingredients at the deli on their lunch hour (where Jimmy the owner stretches his eyes back and adopts a mocking Chinese accent in one scene--hopefully another relic of the past). Many social programs for children began and flourished in the 1960s and 1970s such as free school breakfasts, Reading is Fundamental, and free school-based dental care--this last one depicted in Miranda's school. Stead presents these and other quirks of growing up in the 1970s in an edgy city like New York credibly; creating a fascinating backdrop to her time travel mystery.

At first nothing seems too strange in Miranda's world. Then Sal gets violently punched for no discernible reason by a complete stranger, stops talking to Miranda, a house key goes missing, and unsettling notes begin to appear. These are blips of unease in the story; discordant notes that set up a feeling that something is not quite right.

Stead skillfully weaves her plot out of these many disparate, discordant notes so that in the end, it is both clear and emotional. A character who will seem familiar to anyone living in a large city--the unhinged, laughing homeless man--is actually from the future, returning to save Sal's life and sacrificing his own in the process. We train ourselves to ignore such fixtures of urban life even as we pity them. Stead's story gives him the dignified role of hero. Just as with her accurate depictions of a bygone decade and the complexity of children's friendships, her writing beckons readers closer, asking us to find understanding for those on the fringes of our stories.

Image Source: HarperCollins

Young, Brian. Healer of the Water Monster. 2021. 368 pages. LP: $19.99, ISBN: 9780062990402. Ages 8-12

Brain Young's fantasy is not set in a separate universe but rather provides the Navajo back story for our own earth, and a path forward to heal it. Once Nathan goes to spend the summer with Nali (his grandmother) on the reservation, the fantastical and the familiar begin to overlap. In Healer of the Water Monster, a decimated pond can be explained by both traditional scientific reasons--poison from a nearby uranium mine--and by fantastical, allegorical reasons based on Navajo mythology--the water monster himself is slowly dying from this poison.

Nathan is a fully relatable tween--aghast at the lack of cell service, processed foods, and indoor plumbing at Nali's mobile home but determined to prove a point to his father who, Nathan feels, has betrayed Nathan by choosing to bring his girlfriend along on their Father-Son trip to Las Vegas. Nathan is a science buff, and suggests that a summer on the reservation will help him implement a research study pitting the growth of native corn against processed, fertilized corn. After arriving he wonders if this way to punish his father was really the best choice.

Nathan encounters the strange and spiritual almost immediately when a talking frog steals the corn kernels he planted for his experiment. He then meets the ailing Water Monster, a holy being, who Nathan names "Pond." Pond used to be a thriving body of water before his uranium poisoning. Nathan must travel to the Third World, depicted in the Navajo creation story, to obtain medicine to heal Pond.

Alongside the main plot of Nathan's journey to heal Pond runs his family's journey to heal Nathan's Uncle Jet. Having fought in the Afghanistan war, Uncle Jet turns to the forgetfulness offered by alcohol and drugs to make it through each day. Like Pond, Jet is slowly being poisoned to death. Navajo belief is that Jet is playing host to a dark spirit who infected him during the war, a spirit who makes him believe he is worthless. Just like Pond is an allegory for a real pond, the dark spirit is an allegory for depression. Through a Navajo ceremony, coupled with therapy and antidepressant medicine, Jet can be free of this malevolence.

Young unflinchingly depicts the harsh effects of both uranium poisoning on the environment and alcohol and drug poisoning on an individual. Uncle Jet survives, the ceremony appears to ease his depression and gives him new hope to carry on with psychiatric care. Pond, however, does not, even after Nathan's successful journey to the Third World where he obtains the necessary medicine. Not every harm to the earth can be healed.

As Native American Heritage month concludes, I noticed how some portrayals of indigenous people seem based in the past, as though they are historical fixtures no longer relevant or relatable to today's children. Books like Healer of the Water Monster let young readers know that kids like Nathan--fully modern while also immersed and influenced by their cultures--exist. Moreover, books like Young's open up different ways to understand and begin to seek solutions for challenges like environmental pollution and depression.

Curious about Contemporary Realism

 

Image source: Harper Collins

Warga, Jasmine. Other Words for Home. 2019. 352 pages. LP: $19.99, ISBN: 9780062747808. Ages 8-12.

What is it like to be a child in a country that no longer feels safe, to uproot from your home, leaving everything familiar, including family, behind? I have wondered this because my father did just that in the 1960s, escaping with fabricated documents to Hong Kong, having already experienced starvation and cultural terrorism under Mao Tse Tung. Only near the end of his life would he talk about that time. When he made it to small town Michigan, where a relative sponsored him, he was welcomed by some, scorned and discriminated against by others, and misunderstood by most. That's one reason why books like Jasmine Warga's Other Words for Home are essential for children to read--to open up the possibility of empathy across the myriad cultures that call America home.

While refugees from Asian communist countries were mistrusted in the middle of the last century, in the 2000s mistrust has fallen upon other immigrants including those from the "Middle East," a label Warga's main character, Jude, does not identify with. Jude is from Syria, where student protests lead to militaristic oppression. She and her mother, pregnant with the family's third child, travel to Cincinnati to live with Jude's uncle, leaving her father, older brother, and best friend behind.

Warga's novel in verse is divided into six parts, reflecting Jude's experience with immigration: "Changing," "Arriving," "Staying," "Hoping," "Growing," and "Living." The salty air of her warm and lush seaside hometown in Syria contrasts with the fast moving, bright coldness of Cincinnati. A cousin who is initially unwelcoming grows to become an ally. A school that initially seems daunting yields friends struggling with their own adjustments, including Samir from war-torn Lebanon. Warga avoids stereotypes when presenting Jude's culture. When Jude menstruates and subsequently decides to wear a head scarf, her sadness is not from feeling oppressed but from being unable to share this milestone with her friend back in Syria.

Jude's experiences dealing with extended family, adjusting to a new school and a new sibling, and trying out for the school play will be familiar to readers. That she is adjusting to these life events while fearing for the lives of her father and brother left behind will hopefully open the hearts of readers so they feel grace and empathy to refugees and anyone experiencing tough times. Other Words for Home does not end with all of Jude's problems resolved. She proudly performs in the play but resignedly realizes it will take time, maybe years, before her father and brother can join her in America. But it does end hopefully, as Jude herself finds friendship and confidence in a new home.

Image source: author's

Perez, Celia C. Tumble. 2022. 368 pages. LP: $18.99, ISBN:  9780593325179. Ages 9-12

From a sizzling, deliciously aromatic diner in Albuquerque to a wrestling family's sprawling ranch in Esperanza to a rustic roadside Christmas display fashioned from tumbleweeds, New Mexico's settings really pop in Perez's novel, Tumble. Tying these disparate locations together is Addie, a 12-year-old whose ambivalence about being adopted by her stepdad (head chef at the diner) coincides with her longing to know her biological dad and his family and her anger toward her paleontologist mom who refuses to have anything to do with him. 

Children with divorced parents may see themselves in Addie's longing for connection with the bio-dad she did not grow up with. Getting to know him and his side of the family becomes even more appealing when she discovers they are the famous Bravos family--Mexican American wrestlers or lucheros who star in the Luche Libra circuit where they wear colorful masks and costumes and wrestle with drama and pomp. Visits to the Bravos ranch not only introduce her to a welcoming and exuberant cast of characters that are all related to her, but also to the art of dramatic wrestling. She convinces her school to turn the annual Nutcracker performance into a wrestling show, proudly introducing her friends, classmates, and teachers to her family heritage.

But family relationships can be complicated and even long lost fathers can disappoint. Addie's excitement for having been reunited with her biological father, Manny, dissipates as he fails to turn up for expected visits, including the triumphant Nutcracker wrestling show. His promise that he will settle nearby and become a permanent fixture in her life is also broken. He remains important to Addie, but cannot provide the same kind of dependable love that her mother, stepfather, and the extended Bravos family can.

Along with vibrantly colorful settings and realistic family dynamics, Perez writes characters who are diverse and sympathetic. Addie's new friend Gus starts out as a misunderstood loner, Uncle Mateo, who creates her gorgeous wrestling mask and warns her to temper her expectations of her father, is a nonbinary drag performer, and her abuela is an expert at cooking and also a famous wrestling competitor. These and other characters are presented non-stereotypically. They are flawed and they both bolster and disappoint Addie. They help her on her journey to better understand herself, and to begin to understand and forgive both her parents for their divorce and the estrangement that followed.

Curious about Historical Realism

 

Rinaldi, Ann. My Heart Is on the Ground : the Diary of Nannie Little Rose, a Sioux Girl. 1999. 216 pages. LP: $19.99, ISBN: 9780590149228. Ages 9-12

The Dear America historical fiction book series, quite popular in children's libraries in the earlier part of the 21st century, has since been criticized as being rather mixed in quality and even ethical considerations.  Yet even among those who point out their flaws, these books have been praised as engaging introductions into important time periods and events in America's histories, told through the eyes of children, and popular with their audiences:  'I read these books as a young girl and they ignited my imagination and helped to inspire my lifelong interest in histories," one critic says. However, when Rinaldi's My Heart Is on the Ground : the Diary of Nannie Little Rose, a Sioux Girl is raised, it is as a cautionary tale of how not to write an authentic, historically accurate children's book.

These criticisms are important because most public and school libraries, seeing the popularity of a series like Dear America, will strive to collect all the volumes or retain them through the years. However, in the case of Rinaldi's book, the concern is that children who read it will come away with a skewed, and possibly even harmful, view of the Residential School movement in the Americas. Rinaldi writes a fictionalized account of the diary of Nannie Little Rose who joins the (now infamous) Carlisle Indian School in Pennsylvania in 1879. Rinaldi depiction is not entirely rosy: she acknowledges in her Historical Notes that "education could not be accomplished without taking away their identity," and of the students, that "...upon arriving, their 'Indianness' was taken from them." (Rinaldi, 1999, 175-177) 

Even if she approaches the story with skepticism, is Rinaldi the correct storyteller to convey the painful histories of the Indigenous children who endured the residential schools? Critics point out the historical inaccuracies, careless appropriations, and rampant stereotypes contained in this story (Smith, 1999; Mayer 2023). This book highlights one of the most important elements to consider when judging historical fiction for children: who gets to tell a story? Since these events are part of the colonial decimation of indigenous people and their cultures in America, and since authentic voices of those who lived through the realities of the residential schools are often suppressed or ignored, it would be better if Native American voices are the ones who tell these stories.

Image source: Digital Library of Illinois

Alexander, Kwame. The Door of No Return. 2022. 432 pages. LP: $17.99, ISBN: 9780316442060. Ages 10+

Alexander Kwame presents a story of the African American people, one which does not begin in Jamestown, Virginia or in the plantations of America's south, but long before in Africa in communities like Upper and Lower Kwanta, Ghana (Alexander, 2022, pp. 20, 378). Alexander's novel in verse, framed by Kofi's grandfather the story teller, follows 11-year-old Kofi and his village life. Kofi loves to swim, dislikes his teacher who forces him to speak English, and admires his athletic brother. The author's verses are spare, but they paint a picture of Kofi's world in all its colors: the tangy aromas of plantain stew rich with red palm oil, the chill of the river where Kofi races his rival cousin, and the peace of listening to his grandfather's stories. The setting is, therefore, richly detailed.

Kofi is not destined to grow up and flourish in this part of West Africa, however, as Alexander's plot reveals. He is captured and taken by slave traders to the coast and the castle where humans pass through the door of no return on their way to ships bound for slave-owning countries. Kofi soothes a younger boy with stories like his grandfather told him, witnesses the death of his brother, and attempts escape, but inexorably fate takes him to the slave ship.

This is a hard, sad story and all the more so due to Alexander's care to make it historically accurate. He documents fastidiously with maps, notes, acknowledgments, a Twi glossary, and a section on Andrinka symbols. His connection to the history of his ancestors is revealed by the care he takes in authenticating Kofi's story. Looking to the past--to learn, to better understand ourselves, and to strive to correct its mistakes--is an important theme in The Door of No Return, and is echoed in the Adrinka symbol, Sankofa that Alexander shares:

Image source: Digital Library of Illinois

Image Source: Digital Library of Illinois

LeZotte, Ann Clare. Show Me a Sign. 2020. 288 pages. LP: $25.99, ISBN: 9781338255812. Ages 8-12

Set in 1805 in Martha's Vineyard in a town made up of deaf and hearing residents and members of the Wampanoag tribe, LeZotte's historical novel follows the story of 11-year-old Mary and her response to a scientist who tries to understand the origins of the deaf community's 'infirmity'. LeZotte, who herself is deaf, does not try to simplify the reality of how the deaf communicate. She explains in her detailed end notes that American Sign Language is but one way people have communicated over time including regionally specific languages (such as Martha's Vineyard Sign Language used in the book), culturally-specific languages (Black American sign language) and family-specific signs. Her text conveys how the deaf not only express themselves differently, using a mixture of signs, expressions, and gestures, but how they may see the world differently. For example, when Mary tells her mom of the story of the lion on the beach, her focus on the visual of a frothing wave becoming a lion's mane is dismissed as fanciful by her mother who is hearing, and may not see in the heightened, imaginative way Mary does. (pg. 27)

LeZotte keeps the plot, characters, and style of her story true to the early 1800s. She confronts the racism that exists in Martha's Vineyard toward the indigenous Wampanoag residents, but does not frame it in our 21st century way. Rather, the story presents the injustice of racism toward the Wampanoag but also reflects empathy both for the settlers and the original inhabitants, and brings up the co-mingling of the two groups through intermarriage. The characters also portray the time-appropriate attitudes and practices toward women and young girls, with Mary's brother able to attend a proper school while she must attend the traveling, sporadically-offered traveling school. The attitude of Noble, the scientist, is cold and dismissive toward the deaf, treating them as specimens in a petri dish.

While other books for middle grade children have engagingly and sympathetically portrayed deaf characters including the graphic novel El Deafo by CeCe Bell and Song For a Whale by Lynne Kelly, most books tend to be set in current, or more recent times and portray personal memoirs. Show Me A Sign, along with Apple is my Sign by Mary Riskind, fills a gap in the historical realism genre and reminds children that, as Laurent Clerc, the first deaf teacher in America said, "The deaf...are everywhere...They existed before you spoke of them and before you saw them." (LeZotte, Epigraph, 10)

Curious about Graphic Novels

 

Image source: Macmillan Publishers

Strum, James, Andrew Arnold and Alexis Frederick-Frost. Adventures in Cartooning: Create a World. 2023. 112 pages. LP: $18.99, ISBN: 9781250839411. Ages 6-10.

Strum and company pull back the curtain on the cartooning process in a fun, relatable way so that children are empowered to make their own comics. Knight wants to create complex, exciting worlds ripe for rollicking adventures, but his friend Edward the Horse only draws candy. After seeing him off in a huff, Knight consults Elf, a cartooning expert who teaches him that richly detailed worlds come from simple concepts such as perspective, lines, and shapes:

Image sources: Hoopla

Knight learns how to create elaborate visual worlds with these drawing techniques. Elf teaches him how to move the story along further with narrator boxes and speech bubbles. While his world building explodes, Knight is still dissatisfied without his friend, Edward, by his side. After a brush with a candy-eating dragon, Elf helps Knight realize he has the power to bring back Edward through a marker and his drawing techniques.

The narrative of Knight's desire to create the perfect world vs. the importance of friendship gets a little lost among all that the authors work to accomplish. What Adventures in Cartooning does well is empower children with tools to create their own graphic stories. The illustrations are humorous, brightly colored, and clear. The plot itself meanders a little in the middle as Elf goes off to help other aspiring cartoonists and Knight continues his drawing adventures. The story ends with a fun twist though, encouraging readers to pick up other books in the series.

Image source: Hoopla

Gravel, Elise. The Bug Club. 2021. 56 pages. LP: $17.95, ISBN: 9781770464155. Ages 6 and up. 

In this nonfiction introduction to bugs, Gravel strikes a balance between cartoonish illustrations to make these misunderstood invertebrates more appealing, and realistic drawings that capture their body parts and actions. She starts with a story that draws young readers in, revealing how she's loved bugs since she was a kid, considered becoming an entomologist, and went on to become an artist while retaining her interest in these creatures. After establishing why they are important to planet Earth, Gravel unveils their fascinating weirdness along with facing page case studies of various bugs. 

Less of a graphic novel and more of a highly illustrated, encyclopedic consideration of bugs for both younger and older children, The Bug Club meshes text and pictures well. The pages on the Dung Beetle skew more cartoon-like, while the written information about their power and strength is supported by the drawing of one determined beetle pushing a ball of dung:

Image source: Hoopla

This cute beetle representation is supplemented by more accurate illustrations:

Image source: Hoopla

Gravel removes the stigma and disgust humans tend to feel about bugs through her clear narrative, the story of her own connection to these creatures, and pictures that work to make them likable while not sacrificing authenticity. 

Image source: author's

Kibuishi, Kazu. Amulet: Book One, The Stonekeeper. 2008. 192 pages. LP: $16.39, ISBN: 978-0-439-84681-3. Ages 9-13.

Where I volunteer, the number one book request is for anything scary, and number two is for graphic novels. This first volume of Kibuishi's classic Amulet series fits both criteria. From the tragic prologue when Emily's dad dies in a car accident to the move to the spooky old house and then through to her mother's kidnapping from a horrible creature from the basement--this is one creepy book.

Image source: Hoopla

Kibuishi's illustrations reinforce his unsettling story--they are moody, dark, and full of wonder and uneasy images. He keeps his dialog and narration pretty tight both before and after Em and her brother, Navin, cross over into the world of Alledia. Interspersed with explanations about her role as the keeper of the amulet from her dying great grandfather and the robotic creatures he created are plenty of action scenes:

Image source: Hoopla

These scenes crackle across the page with sound effects depicted by bold words in agitated fonts, disparately-sized and angled panels, and white dashes representing movement through space. The art, dialog, and narration work harmoniously together to propel the story forward and make it understandable for young readers who, if they are like me, will want to devour every book in this 9-part series.

Image source: Harper Collins Publishers

Brown, Don. In the Shadow of the Fallen Towers: The Seconds, Minutes, Hours, Days, Weeks, Months, and Years after the 9/11 Attacks. 2024. 128 pages. LP: $11.99, ISBN: 9780063360983. Ages 13 and up.

Brown manages to corral a complicated, horrifying series of events and their aftermath into 128 pages and to do so with an older middle school and YA audience in mind. In the Shadow of the Fallen Towers brings young readers along for the chaos and devastation of the 9/11 attacks as they unfold. Further pages reveal what was happening around the country and the world at that time and in the time periods to follow. While the rushed, jarring quality of the narration and illustrations may have been an artistic choice, conveying a journalistic sense of urgency and emergency, they lend an unfinished, early draft feel to this graphic novel. 

Image source: Hoopla

On the page above, the narration complements the images as Brown explains how rescuers had to wear respirators to resist toxic gasses and how rescue dogs performed dangerous searches. But the sketches of both heroes appear to have been done quickly and unsympathetically, as though finer features were going to be added at a later time but then forgotten. The font chosen for the narration boxes is likewise light and insubstantial, almost as though it was stamped on with too little ink. These choices may have been deliberate, reflecting the death and destruction of the scenes themselves--maybe it is better not to look to closely or depict them too vividly. But I wonder if this approach draws young readers in or induces them to skim over important parts.

The plot is not straightforward because what happened on 9/11 and after is complicated, but Brown skillfully lays out the many parts and places of the story from New York city to Washington D.C. to Pennsylvania to Pakistan and Afghanistan. His quick, plain sketch style serves him best when he portrays "the pile--" the almost unimaginable scale of destruction after the twin towers fell and also when he explains and shows the torture of a prominent al-Qaeda leader by the U.S. government. This is still disturbing, but the author's choice to show the torture as vaguely as possible is appropriate for teen readers.

Brown does not shy away from this tragic time, nor its complexities like the backlash against Muslims in America and the conflict in Afghanistan. Some of the characters speak directly to the reader, bearing witness to what they saw and felt. While the narration and speech bubbles help bring this important time in history to life, the art work could have done more to enhance the empathy readers will feel toward those who lived through it.

Image source: Author's

King, Thomas. Borders. Illustrated by Natasha Donovan, 2021. 192 pages. LP: $24.99, ISBN: 9780316593069. Ages 8-12.

On their trip from Canada to the Salt Lake City to visit his sister, the boy hopes to eat at a restaurant, get an orange soda, and have a fun reunion. These desires are put on hold when his mom insists on protecting the dignity of their identity as Blackfoot tribal members and defying laws meaninglessly imposed on their people. The narration, dialog, and color-saturated illustrations of Borders bring these two disparate points of view together in a simple, laconic story.

King's characters do not waste words in this graphic novel, and his narrative text boxes are just long enough to convey a straightforward story detailing how the sister left the Blackfoot community to live in Salt Lake City. After some resentment about her daughter's leaving, the mom decides to travel with the boy to finally make a visit.

But when they reach the Canadian/United States border, a simple trip becomes complicated. Blackfoot land defies boundaries imposed by colonial powers. The mother is Blackfoot. She owes no allegiance to either side who keep and enforce the laws of their border. And when asked her citizenship, she gives her truthful answer,

Image source: author's 

Blackfoot side. 

However, this answer does not conform to the binary imposed by either Canada or the U.S. So, the boy and his mother must wait--spending time at the duty-free store and sleeping in their car--until an understanding border official decides to let them through. On the way back, the potential for media coverage of their story compels officials to let them return.

While the text is brief, Donovan's illustrations are bold and bursting with color. As night falls on the family and they spend it in their car, the mom tells stories for the boy to remember, stories reflected in the stars. The gradient blues and the sparkling stars support the magic of the mother's stories.

Image source: author's

Because King unspools his tale simply and without excess description, when the mother declares their citizenship as Blackfoot, it stands out. The illustrations support the importance of this declaration by letting the border police, mother, and son pause as they all absorb the importance of this moment. Children may need guidance as to why this is a significant part of the story and how it leads to the friendly but pointed standoff at the border. They may identify with the boy, who just wants to get through and see his sister, but begin to understand the mom and why she decides to stick to her principles.

The book ends with the mom and son returning to their Blackfoot community, after a good visit with their daughter and sister, as the sunsets. Again, no excess narration or dialog is necessary. The tranquility and beauty of the moment, which defies the will of man, is reflected in the illustrations.

Image source: author's

 

Curious about Beginning & Transitional Readers

 

Image source: author

Tabor, Corey R. Fox the Tiger. 2018. 32 pages. LP: $4.99, ISBN: 9780062398697.  Ages: 4-8. 

Fox the Tiger is part of the popular "I Can Read" series of books published by HarperKids. These books are organized by reading levels, starting with "My Very First," which are book sets, and continuing on through level 4:

Image source: author

Fox the Tiger is classified as "My First/Shared Reading which consists of basic language, word repetition, and whimsical illustrations, ideal for sharing with your emergent reader" (Fox and Tiger, cover page).

Using Horning's classifications, Fox and Tiger falls best into Level One. While some lines do have more than 5 words, most lines are 5 and under. Sentences are also mainly under 7 words, and the ones that go over (like this one pictured, which has 8 words) include short sight words:

Image source: author

The sentence is "I wish I were a tiger." says Fox, and although it is contains 8 words, 6 of them are sight words. In fact, many of the words in this book are sight words and words with 1-3 syllables. Finally, all pages have fewer than 7 lines, in fact, no page has more than 3 lines. So Fox and Tiger falls neatly into Horning's Level One classification.

In addition to being appropriate for a nascent reader, Fox and Tiger's pastel and line illustrations and simple moral should be compelling to young children. Fox longs to be "big and fast and sneaky" like a tiger, and a bit of paint helps him to achieve this wish. Soon other woodland animals are using paint to transform themselves, but a rain storm returns them to their original forms. In the end, they are happy to be who there are.

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Image Source: author

LaRochelle, David. See the Cat: Three Stories About a Dog. Illustrated by Mike Wohnoutka, 2020. 64 pages. LP: $8.99,  ISBN: 978–1536204278. Preschool through grade 3.

This humorous book, made up of 3 stories, falls somewhere between Horning's Level One and Two categories. Its type is large and most lines have 3, 4, or 5 words. Most sentences have 3-4 words, however a some have over 7 words and one sentence consists of 19 words. These longer sentences include cumulative phrases that have come in the pages that precede for example:

Image source: author

While this page has a 19-word sentence, the phrases "run and jump" and "spin and fly" have come before. 

In addition to 11 pages (out of 64) with sentences over 7 words long, there are 2 multi-syllabic words including "unicorn" and "embarrassed." Many words are sight words, but this book also has some longer, more sophisticated vocabulary.

Compared to Fox and Tiger which I consider above, See the Cat is a bit more complex. It is still beginner-level in many ways. Its clever concept with the book talking on one page and the dog responding on the facing page, keeps the lines brief with ample white space and funny illustrations dominating the dog's page. Using Horning's classifications, if we take Fox and Tiger as a baseline for Level One, I would classify See the Cat as a Level 1.5. 

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Image source: author

English, Karen. Nikki & Deja. Illustrated by Laura Freeman, 2007. 80 pages. LP: $9.99, ISBN:  9780547133621. Ages 4-7. 

"Transitional books serve as a bridge...that some children will cross very quickly; others will linger for a while. The best transitional books will suggest that the trip across is worth it and great things await them on the other side." (Horning, 137)

Nikki & Deja brings readers beyond the first three classification levels, bridging the gap to more text-heavy chapter books. It is classified as a transition book, as Horning describes in the quote above. While slim at 76 pages, it covers a far more involved plot over several chapters than do the first three levels. The following picture and analysis show why it fits comfortably in the transition book category:

Image source: author's

Pages 16 and 17 illustrate how Nikki & Deja qualifies as a transitional book. First, the typeface is relatively large--I believe this is 14 point. Secondly, the number of lines per page is 23 if you count full lines; 26 if you count lines made up of 1 or 2 words. Thirdly, the number of words per line runs from 7 to 10. Margins are quite generous, and there are full-page black and white illustrations throughout--at least one per chapter and sometimes more. There are also partial-page illustrations scattered across chapters. Chapters are short and episodic, each one conveying a particular plot point (in the case of Chapter 4, the arrival of Antonia, the new neighbor, in school and the main characters' conflict with her on the playground). 

As is important in transitional books, the vocabulary is kept simple with descriptive words, but not too many. Some nouns are unmodified: "backpack, cubby, ruler" whereas adjectives modify others: "perfectly good seat, pink plastic pencil case, small stapler". These adjectives help create images of the scene in readers' minds, without being too unfamiliar or complex. Sentences are short, direct and uncomplicated: "All heads bend toward their blank pages" and "A few take time to stare into space". Perhaps in a chapter book for more advanced readers, these two sentences would be combined with "while" linking them and perhaps even more phrases. As it is, these shorter sentences are easier to digest and still convey an idea of what is going on in the classroom.

Nikki & Deja is an interesting book with tension surrounding a new neighbor and classmate, leading to a friendship breakup, resolving in best friends coming back together. Compared to the first three levels of beginning readers, there is more here across many variables--words, descriptors, sentences, plot, chapters. These work together to tell a compelling, not too complicated story. 

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Image source: author's 

Bruchac, Joseph. rez dogs. 2022. 192 pages. LP: $8.99, ISBN: 9780593326220. ages 8-12.

"Novels in verse have earned their place in the mainstream of children’s and young adult literature...and this is good news for reluctant readers, especially reluctant middle-grade and middle-school readers. Compared to a conventional novel, a novel in verse has perhaps half the number of words per page — and isn’t that half the battle with reluctant readers?" (The Horn Book, 2015)

rez dogs by Joseph Bruchac, author of the acclaimed YA book Code Talker, does not quite fit neatly in 

the categories Horning presents in her chapter on easy readers and transition books. It comes closest to being a transition book, but rather than serving as a bridge between easier titles and longer chapter books, I think it exists unselfconsciously as its own category--the novel in verse.

Across several variables, rez dogs appears to be a transition book. Its type is relatively large, there are typically 20 or less lines per page with each line typically containing 5 or fewer words. Each page has plenty of white space and chapters are short. Consider pages 50-51:

Image source: author's

This is a novel in verse, which Horning covers in Chapter 4 and describes as "full length fiction written as a series of connected poems, generally free verse" (page 82). The sparseness of its text laser-focuses the reader on the themes of the book, just like poetry conveys worlds within a few, beautifully-evocative lines. As The Horn Book article quoted above emphasizes, not only does this genre serve an artistic purpose, it can be especially appealing to reluctant readers. Rather than being faced with overwhelming, dense lines of text, books like rez dogs keep their text spartan and collected toward one side of the page, reserving plenty of white space throughout. Each stanza contains few lines and each line, few words such as from the above photo:

"The ironic thing,

Malian thought,

about her mom being

taken away,

is that it was 

almost the same

as what happened 

to her grandparents"

(Bruchac, page 51)

Why not classify it as a transition book and be done with it? Because I feel rez dogs does not sit comfortably in this category. While its chapters are not long, they convey more nuanced content than the episodic chapters of a transition or bridge book. They are not illustrated. Word choice is surgical, but words are not necessarily simple for example:

whilst

goldarn

intelligence

rippling

ironic

eugenics.

One criterion is that transition books have content that is compelling enough to hold interest, but not too complicated or hard to follow. rez dogs is not complicated, but it does move the reader between times, considering incidents that happened to the main character's grandparents and parents. On pages 50-51 above, the existence of the Indian Boarding Schools and the forced removals of native children to foster families are broached. While rez dogs does not change points of view or voices, it brings the reader along so they can understand the complexity underlying the Penacook heritage and how it affects modern-day tribal members. Chapters are short, but cover deeper topics more thoughtfully than do the chapters in Nikki & Deja, for example.

While not explicitly considered a "hi-lo" title either, rez dogs shares some of the benefits of these high interest, low readability books. It covers topics more interesting for middle grade and middle school students but in a less intimidating way due to its format. It is not coded as young as a book like Nikki & Deja is. Even its cover art work is less cartoonish. Its vocabulary is accessible but more sophisticated. Overall, it is a good entry for all readers, reluctant or not, into the genre of novels in verse.

Sources

Bruchac, Joseph. Rez Dogs. Playaway Products, LLC, 2024. 

English, Karen. Nikki & Deja. Clarion Books, 2013. 

Horning, Kathleen T. From Cover to Cover: Evaluating and Reviewing Children’s Books. Collins, 2010. 

Joe Bruchac. Joe Bruchac, joebruchac.com/. Accessed 26 Oct. 2024. 

LaRochelle David, and Mike Wohnoutka. See the Cat David Larochelle. Candlewick Press, 2021. 

Raybuck, Dorie. “Field Notes: ‘This Is Too Much!’ Why Verse Novels Work for Reluctant Readers.” The Horn Book, www.hbook.com/story/field-notes-this-is-too-much-why-verse-novels-work-for-reluctant-readers. Accessed 26 Oct. 2024. 

Tabor, Corey R. Fox the Tiger. Scholastic Inc, 2019. 

                                                                                                                                                         

Curious about Information Books

 

Image Source: Libby

Weatherford, Carole Boston. Unspeakable: The Tulsa Race Massacre. Illustrated by Floyd Cooper, 2021. 32 pages. LP: $17.99, ISBN: 9781541581203. Grade level: 3-6.

The first glimpse of Unspeakable: The Tulsa Race Massacre lets the reader know this book is going to tell a powerful, if troubling, story. The front cover characters, depicted by Floyd Cooper in his signature oil erasure style,  epitomize the emotions of anxiety (father), despair (mother), fear (daughter) and something like testimony from the baby who looks piercingly out at the reader. Cooper portrays this same, implacable expression

Image Source: Libby. pages 3-4

further in the book when he shows a family settling in Tulsa, Oklahoma, proud descendants of Black Indians and former slaves, fleeing a segregated and violent South. Again, these two girls' expressions pierce into the soul of the audience as if to say "do not forget us. do not forget what happened here."

But as Carole Boston Weatherford's true account, told in picture book style, reveals, we did forget for over 75 years. We forgot about the thriving Greenwood community, America's Black Wall Street. We forgot how it was destroyed, over 300 of its Black citizens massacred. Working beautifully together, Weatherford's text and Cooper's illustrations ensure we won't forget again.

Unspeakable's tale unspools like all good fairy tales with "Once upon a time," and like traditional story tellers, Weatherford speaks of both joy and trouble. She lays out what pulled and pushed Black migration to Tulsa, not shying from the realities of racist policies like segregation and voter discrimination laws, while revealing the resistance and innovation of Greenwood residents:

"Once upon a time on Black Wall Street there were dozens of restaurants and grocery stores. There were furriers, a pool hall, a bus system, and an auto shop--nearly two hundred businesses in all." page 9

The cadences of the author's prose are supported and enhanced by the illustrator's drawings which are both realistic and ethereal. Cooper achieved this through a technique all his own called oil erasure in which he first washes a surface in oil paint then kneads the paint away using an eraser. The illustrations show the bustling energy of Greenwood Avenue and its inhabitants until we get to page 17, where overshadowing darkness introduces the elevator incident that led to the false accusations against the young man, resulting in his arrest and the eventual massacre.

Weatherford speaks with the authority of one whose family members themselves have experienced racist terror in America's South. Her story also rings true given Cooper's own family history, having grown up in Tulsa hearing his grandfather finally tell the long-suppressed tale of the massacre he witnessed. The end pages of Unspeakable are created from a photograph showing how the entire community was flattened to the ground, every business, house, and institution destroyed. While these and the author's and illustrator's end notes are compelling, and while the details have been denied and, for many, forgotten, it would have been even more helpful if Weatherford had included more documentation or a list of sources to which the reader can turn to read more. 

A link in the electronic version the book leads students and educators to detailed lesson plans, videos of the author and illustrator, and more materials. While classified as being for grades 3 to 6, this book is appealing across many grade levels including through middle and even high school. It is a good launching point into deeper discussions about race in America, for comparisons with other historic events, and about the power of resistance and the hope of reconciliation.

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Image Source: Cavalier House Books

Thimmesh, Catherine. Camp Panda: Helping Cubs Return to the Wild. 2022. 64 pages. LP: $17.99, ISBN:  9780358732891. Grade level: 5-7.

Middle grade and middle school students will appreciate this inspiring comeback story of how China's Giant Panda went from a population of 23,000 to nearly wiped out in the 1990s, to 1,864 in 2022 as a result of the painstaking efforts depicted in Camp Panda. Thimmesh organizes her book clearly as shown in the Table of Contents--from a compelling prologue to the first chapter, "Pandas in Peril" which introduces how vulnerable this animal population is, to several chapters describing their unique attributes and how habitat loss is leading to their demise. It is near the end when she introduces "Camp Panda," a detailed chapter describing how robust toddlers are introduced to a controlled wild environment in the hopes they can live on their own in the true wild. Fascinatingly, human contact is kept to a minimum, and when it is unavoidable, the scientists are disguised as the real thing 

Image Source: Libby. page 26

so as not to confuse the youngsters. 

Camp Panda is written in a simple, conversational style, drawing in the reader with its passionate message of conservation and rehabilitation. The design of the book is engaging, including changes in typographic styles from the larger, bold introductory paragraphs that begin each chapter to the quotes in italics. Longish paragraphs of informative prose are broken up by side bars of light green explaining certain points of interest like the pandas' diet. The photographs, often with their own lengthy captions, expertly highlight the points Thimmesh is making in the prose. 

The book concludes with a wealth of supporting materials including links and suggestions under the helpful "What Can You Do?" section. Thimmesh does not skimp on documentation, citing a variety of sources including interviews, books, academic articles and videos, as well as highlighting the 5 experts she consulted. It would have been more interesting if these experts' side bars were scattered throughout the book, rather than exclusively at the end, to lend a more personal insight into the voices behind the chapters.

In fact, it is the voice, or point of view, that is somewhat lacking in Camp Panda. The fact that it is well-researched and makes a strong argument for changing our approach to nature and our animal friends is indisputable. But what readers might appreciate is a compelling back story--what got Thimmesh interested in the fate of these adorable creatures? She advocates expertly for the work the scientists are doing, but at the end only a few short 'about the author' lines gives us insight into her own background. Solid, authoritative sources could have been enriched with a more personal look into her own motivations for writing this impressive book.
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Image Source: Libby

Partridge, Elizabeth. Seen and Unseen: What Dorothea Lange, Toyo Miyatake, and Ansel Adams's Photographs Reveal about the Japanese American Incarceration. Illustrated by Lauren Tamaki. 2022. 132 pages. LP: $21.99, ISBN: 9781452165103. Ages: 10-14.

What is shown, what is not shown; what is told, what is left unsaid? Who gets to tell a peoples' story? Elizabeth Partridge, whose godmother was the famed American photographer Dorothea Lange, answers these questions in her book Seen and Unseen, by presenting evidence about one of this country's  egregious civil rights violation, the incarceration of Japanese Americans during World War II.

Elizabeth Partridge and Lauren Tamaki worked together to produce this astonishing, ground breaking nonfiction book for young people. Every element, from Partridge's careful research and personal connection to the story to Tamaki's evocative ink with color wash illustrations interspersed with black and white photos, to the design of the pages, everything works together to compel the reader to keep turning the pages and understand how this injustice unfolded.

Seen and Unseen is organized chronologically, opening with the bombing of Pearl Harbor and showing how this precipitated the seizing of Japanese Americans' property and imprisoning them in far-flung camps. Partridge frames this history in a critical way--showing the reader how agency and voice matter. She presents the events through the eyes of three talented photographers: Lange, passionately opposed to the incarceration; Adams, eager to show the bright side of one particular camp; and Miyatake, whose clandestine photos reveal the most authentic views of life in camp prisons. In this way, the author goes beyond the straightforward presentation of a historical miscarriage of justice to an argument about the importance of asking how and by whom history is told.

This book is beautifully designed. Text, artifacts, photographs and Tamaki's illustrations work together, each demanding attention and working to reveal the truth of the incarceration. Text is presented in various typographical styles including large, bold paragraphs and handwritten labels. Photos and illustrations are cleverly intermixed such as in this page depicting Miyatake photographing a wedding in Los Angeles, mere hours after the bombing of Pearl Harbor, and being interrupted by police to drag away Americans suspected of collaborating with Japan:

Image Source: Libby. page 13

Partridge speaks authoritatively about Lange's unease with being asked to photograph the removal and incarceration of Japanese Americans. Lange was her godmother and neighbor whose photos were given over to the U.S. government which only published a small number of what she took. Lange was ordered to avoid photographing anything controversial such as living conditions. Nevertheless, she managed to tell a story with her pictures for those astute enough to read the details such as 

Source: Libby. page 24

with this photograph. The Mochida family looks organized and compliant, but a closer look reveals the tags they were required to wear, not unlike the Stars of David Jewish citizens were forced to don in Nazi Germany.

Ansel Adams, in contrast, avoided all controversy in his photographs of the camp Manzanar.

Image Source: Libby. page 135

As seen above, Adams zoomed in to make this family's camp dwelling, really part of a long, multi-family barrack, appear to be a cozy bungalow.

It was Miyatake whose documentation got closest to the reality of life in the prison camps. Using a smuggled-in camera and a secret darkroom, he shot and developed photos that showed a grimmer, more realistic view of the forced incarceration, including shared toilets and 24-hour guarded watch towers:

Image Source: Libby. page 89. 

Partridge concludes the book with evidence of her meticulous research. Each photograph is documented along with notes from the original photographers. She provides documentation for all quotes and artifacts. There are sections explaining the importance of words (evacuation vs. forced removal, for example) and further describing the three photographers. Partridge and Tamaki conclude with interesting author and illustrator notes. 

Unlike the massacre at and destruction of Greenwood in Tulsa, the removal and incarceration of Japanese Americans on the west coast was extensively photographed. However, Partridge and Tamaki present the case that who documents a historic event, and what they choose to include or exclude, matters. This is just one of the themes librarians and other educators can pursue when using Seen and Unseen in their middle grade, middle school, and high school curricula. 

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Source Image: Libby

Maillard, Kevin Noble. Fry Bread: A Native American Family Story. Illustrated by Juana Martinez-Neal. 2019. 48 pages. LP: $18.99, ISBN: 1626727465. Ages: 3-6.

Kevin Noble Maillard's picture book presents rhythmic verses surrounded by Juana Martinez-Neal's energetic illustrations, all to celebrate a food which shows the resilience and history of Native American peoples. Each page begins with "Fry Bread is..." and goes on to let young audiences know that it is so many things: food, shape, sound, color, flavor, time, art, history, place, nation, everything, us, you. The text is simple and enchanting, and it is supplemented at the end by Maillard's notes which expand on each theme. For example, on page 8 we see that Fry Bread is Flavor,

Image Source: Libby. pages 7-8

and in the author end notes Maillard expands on this idea, explaining how the recipes and flavors of fry bread differ from region to region, from tribe to tribe.

The above pages also reveal the care Martinez-Neal takes to represent the diversity of the cooks and eaters of fry bread. It can be for everyone! Yet the author and illustrator ground this delicacy in the experiences of Indigenous people in the pages depicting "Fry Bread is History:"

Image Source: Libby. pages 11-12

"Fry Bread is History

The long walk, the stolen land

Strangers in our own world

With unknown food

We made new recipes

From what we had."

Here, Martinez-Neal's haunting blue-black crows represent the voices and memories of the past, a past that was often painful. The children listen to the tribal elders solemnly. The verse reveals that fry bread, while delicious and for all, is deeply rooted in Native American history.

Along with his references and notes, the author demonstrates his unquestionable authority to write about fry bread with his own recipe, included after the rollicking text and illustrations are at an end. Maillard's recipe, like the author himself, traces its roots to the Seminole Nation of Oklahoma. Migration of his family to Arkansas led to the unconventional inclusion of cornmeal. But fry bread, he insists, doesn't have to be a static, one-note thing. Families have adapted it to their own tastes and circumstances. Just like Native Americans, it is still here.