Mazie

Cover of Mazie by Melanie Crowder, which shows a girl in front of the front of a theater, with her name in lights (and the author's on the board where they'd usually name the featured show).

Mazie, the newest book by Melanie Crowder, is a great story about one young woman’s journey toward Broadway.

As a small town girl from Nebraska, Mazie doesn’t know any professional performers (unless you count her dance teacher). In many ways, she’s aiming for something that seems utterly unreachable. It’s a powerful thing–watching her transform her dreams into reality.

I love the deep, realistic character development in this book. I also love the way it explores how ambition can affect relationships–with family, with a boyfriend, and especially with fellow artists. In this book, these other performers often feel like both collaborators and competition.

Like Audicity (which is another Crowder book I love), this trip into the past also has great world-building. I don’t think I’ve ever been to a drive-up restaurant with live performances and waitresses on roller skates, but this book put me there.

If you like historical books, or musical theater, or coming-of-age stories (especially ones about young people who are talented in one of the fine arts), this might be a great read for you.

Not quite your thing? If you browse through my bookshelf here, you can check out other books I adore. The “loved it” and “keeper” tags mark some of my favorites.

The Kingdom of Back

Cover of Marie Lu's The Kingdom of Back -- a light blue stylized tree on a blue background.

Marie Lu’s The Kingdom of Back surprises with its mix of fantasy and historical fiction. I expected a fantasy, but at first, got nothing but a tale of Mozart’s forgotten sister.

As a historical tale, this story immerses me in a world of rich detail, patriarchy, ambition, and music. Then, just when I’m comfortable, fantasy seeps in. It infuses the story, seeping into the everyday world in a magical realist style.

So, not quite what I expected–but so much better. I love Nannerl. I’ve never quite connected to music the way she does, but I relate to her ambition and the complicated feelings she has about her brother and her brother’s talent. This story is epic–both in the realm of music (with genius rising, getting squelched and sometimes getting stolen) and in the Kingdom of Back (where Nannerl fights monsters that are not always exactly what they seem).

I’d strongly recommend this book for anyone who likes fantasy, magical realism, historical fiction, or stories about women in the arts. I may even try picking up a physical copy for myself (and I don’t like books that much very often. I did feel that way about this one, too.)

New Kid

New Kid--by Jerry Craft

The book sits on a chair

On the cover, a kid in a gray hoodie and black slacks scribbles in a notebook

New Kid, by Jerry Craft was 2020’s Newbery award winner. Like other Newberys, it is incredibly well-written, and rich in detail. It has well-rounded characters and a tale that tugs on my heartstrings.

Unlike any other Newbery I’ve read, it is also a graphic novel.

The artwork is gorgeous, and I particularly love the art within the art. (This graphic novel tells the story of Jordan Banks, a young artist, so some of the spreads are meant to be Jordan’s work.) I love the way the book explores this part of Jordan’s personality. I’m fascinated by the ongoing argument in his family about what role art should play in Jordan’s education. Jordan’s family (or at least part of it) regards creative endeavors as a sideline in the business of life. Naturally, I relate to Jordan’s frustration with that.

I also relate to Jordan’s struggle with being the new kid in a school despite some obvious differences between our experiences. Jordan’s racial background and the nature of his prestigious private school add complexity to his struggle. In some ways, this story reminds me of The Hate U Give because Jordan, like Starr, has to navigate two very different cultures as he attends a private school far from his neighborhood.

All in all, this is a great book. I strongly recommend it for anyone who likes graphic novels, art, or realistic stories about starting a new stage of life. I’ll be looking for more of Jerry Craft’s books in the future.

Cress

Paperback of Cress by Marissa Meyer, which features a girl's bare arm twisted up in her very long braid. The book sits on a Christmas-themed background, next to a cylinder with the Chinese character fu (blessing)

Marissa Meyer has written another fabulous book with Cress. Book Three of The Lunar Chronicles lives up to the high standard set by Cinder and Scarlet. (My daughter would say it surpasses it. Cress is her favorite.)

Like the two previous books, this one is a fairy-tale retelling–in this case of Rapunzel. For an isolated shut-in, Cress turns out to be a remarkably active and resourceful main character. Her mad computer skills save her (and others) dozens of times, but it’s her ability to make friends after so much isolation that’s truly impressive.

Also like the first two books, this one is full of action and life-changing revelations. When Cress’s rescue goes a bit awry, all the characters get thrown into life-threatening crisis. It’s hard to imagine how the problems could intensify–and yet they do, throwing our heroes into ever-increasing danger.

With Cress on board, this little team of outcasts and misfits may just have a fighting chance at overthrowing the evil empire from Luna that seems intent on ruling the Earth.

Maybe.

In any case, I’m looking forward to the next book, and I strongly recommend this one for anyone who likes YA sci-fi and fantasy (and anyone who enjoys good fairy-tale retellings). For other reviews, check it out on Goodreads or LibraryThing.

Bridge to Terabithia

Cover for Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Patterson (Special 40th anniversary Edition) on a computer screen. 

Picture--Silhouette of girl swinging on rope from a tree across a gully toward silhouette of boy next to taller tree. Background blues with stars, silhouette of a pink/purple castle foggy in the background.

I read Bridge to Terabithia once long ago, and my memory of it was fuzzy–only that it was a very good book, and that it made me sad.

When a student needed to read it for a class, I was glad to pick up a copy and read along. And, having read it again, I have to say that I still think it’s a very good book. And it still makes me sad.

I love Jesse–and feel convicted by him. Like him, I fear what the people around me think–and feel both crippled and embarrassed by my lack of courage. Like Jesse, I have siblings I love–and sometimes want to throttle (less so now that I don’t live with them, but I remember that feeling).

And, then, of course, there’s Leslie–the child of the city and imagination who changes everything. I love the way Leslie brings Jesse along with her flights of imagination, and the way the two of them challenge each other to experience things beyond their normal.

I also love the way this book deals with hard things with both honesty and compassion. In this particular strength, Bridge to Terabithia excels beyond most books I have read. I highly recommend it for anyone. It might be even better than some of the other Newbery award winners I’ve reviewed here, like Holes and Hello, Universe.

Little Women

A US postage stamp commemorating the book Little Women--showing Meg in a rocking chair reading a letter, surrounded by Amy, Beth, and Jo.

I’ve been rereading Little Women the past few weeks, and I’m reminded what a wonderful book it is. I started reading it for a The Enchanted Book Club, but I’m way behind, and haven’t been able to participate in the discussions. Maybe I’ll do better with next month’s selection.

Moral Pap for the Young?

Louisa May Alcott may well have considered Little Women to be “moral pap for the young,” but that’s not how I see it. The characters are so well-drawn that it’s hard to help loving them. Even though it’s more than a century since she published the book, I feel like I know Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy.

What I’ve always liked best about this is the sister-relationships. They’re so life-like. My sisters have occasionally angered me the way Amy angers Jo. We’ve all strained each others’ nerves. And we have each others’ backs. The particulars may be different, but the experience is the same.

I even like the “moral pap.” At least, I relate to the need to control one’s temper–and appreciate now (as I did when I was young) finding a character who struggled with this in her life. I’m not the only one. And it is a real need. Sometimes maturity requires learning to control oneself–and that’s not necessarily an easy thing.

True Beauty

I also like a book (an old book!) that appreciates women for more than just outward beauty. These “little women” are intelligent, well-read, ambitious, creative, and often exuberant, and they strive to develop good character in themselves. I like them for it. It helps me to recognize that these are the kinds of things (not just physical attractiveness) that make someone beautiful. I want to be this kind of woman.

If you haven’t read this classic, I recommend it. And if you have, it might be worth picking up again.

Enola Holmes: The Case of the Missing Marquess

Chrysanthemums beneath the title page from The Case of the Missing Marquess: An Enola Holmes Mystery

I became interested in Enola Holmes when I saw the movie (on Netflix) titled with her name. I loved it, and her, and so did my husband and daughter, who watched it with me.

But, of course, Enola Holmes lives in a book, too. A set of books, really, by Nancy Springer. As I usually find with good films made from books, the books are even better. Well, at least the first one is. (I imagine the later ones will be as well–I just haven’t read them yet. I have added them to my “want to read” shelf on Goodreads).

Enola is lovable and smart and funny–and she’s dealing with a whole boatload of patronizing hogwash (because women were treated quite deplorably in her day). It’s delightful to watch her succeed where her brothers assume she cannot. Like Adelaide from a few weeks ago, she refuses to let other people’s assumptions box her in.

Anyway, I strongly recommend The Case of the Missing Marquess for those who like history, or mysteries, or girls finding their way in the world.

Binti

I picked this up from the library after a friend recommended it on Goodreads, and it’s every bit as good as she said it was. I’m probably going to want to get a copy of my own of this stunning little gem at some point.

When Binti leaves home to attend university off-world, her traditional family and people don’t approve. They say she’s selfish. That she’s ruining her future. That the university will separate her from her culture.

Binti goes anyway, lured by the promise of sinking into the mathematics that give her unique abilities to concentrate and communicate.

She doesn’t expect those abilities to become quite so critically important as they do. Her very survival depends on them, and that process of survival changes her in ways even her family couldn’t have predicted.

This is a fabulous story that explores (in an edge-of-the-seat danger kind of way, not a preachy way) what it means to leave home, and what it takes to keep some of home with you.

Boxers & Saints

So, I’m not usually a graphic novel person, but every so often I run across something amazing. This is one of those things.

This is a story ripped from the pages of history–but not the history I learned in school. Why is that? well, because we didn’t do much Chinese history

I may have heard of the Boxer “rebellion” (can you really call it a rebellion when it’s local people trying to kick out foreigners?), but I certainly didn’t learn anything about its nuances when I was in school.

But this story tells the history from the perspective of two teens–one a Chinese Christian, one a “boxer” (think kung fu, not guys stripped to the waist and wearing leather mitts). It’s easy to relate to both. It’s easy to see how they take the paths they take. It’s easy to see how those paths collide.

And the artwork is incredible.

Read it. It’s absolutely worth the time.

Cinder

My fourteen-year old has been begging me to read this one for at least a year now–and it’s spectacular. I love the world-building. Everything from Cinder’s cyborg parts to her stall in the market is shown in beautiful detail that makes the story come alive.

And, of course, fairy-tale retellings are among my very favorite kinds of stories. This Cinderella remake is absolutely delightful. Yes, I’m reading the other books (just as soon as I make some headway on my to-do list).