The narrative is historically accurate, which includes racial slurs that would be unthinkable in polite society today (Quaver prepares readers for this in a thoughtful author’s note before the first chapter.) As well, some of Quaver’s ordeals for Elly—which include parental death, institutional abuse, and human trafficking—are harrowing, though Elly’s spirit lights even the darkest passages. Quaver continually invents arresting scenarios and characters, rendered in sharp, memorable prose. A subplot with a growing list of murders of young women in every location the troupe travels and a hinted family rift between Elly’s parents and their families are teased, but not gone into in great detail, promising threads to entice readers for the next book.
Elly’s many trials before becoming a teenager would be hard to imagine even in an octogenarian’s experiences, although Quaver carries them all off with a certain sense of derring-do. It’s impossible not to root for this determined young girl, who refuses to let anything at all—whether it’s a devastating earthquake or a daring escape from a questionable institution—stop her determined moves forward.
Takeaway: The start of orphan Elly’s unfortunate but engaging 20th century journey
Comparable Titles: Stacey Lee’s Outrun the Moon, Megan Chance’s A Splendid Ruin.
Production grades
Cover: A-
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: A-
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A-
Storm Cloud Rising
Lancour does a terrific job of world-building through vivid lived detail, and the expansive cast of mercenaries engages from the start, as the hardscrabble group introduces themselves, in crisp and sometimes cutting dialogue, to the duke, to each other, and to readers. Corelan, Qaz, Daelyn, and Lena exchange exciting banter throughout their journey into the desert, as they come to understand the escalating threat of running afoul of the Psychic’s League. Lancour writes fantasy with the eye and spirit of a thriller novelist, with visceral action, pulsing suspense, and a welcome attention to physical reality. The novel will hook readers who prefer pulp integrity in their sword and sorcery, as Lancour develops mysteries and gives real reason to worry about who will survive through to the end.
Storm Cloud Rising is still a fantasy, with copious new terminology and cultures for readers to chart, which at times can prove daunting. (A glossary would help.) But this entry moves quickly and boasts welcome pulp integrity as the mercenaries, striving to keep up with events, find themselves reduced to plans like “If things get ugly, kick in the door and start swinging.”
Takeaway: Sharply told mercenary fantasy with true pulp integrity.
Comparable Titles: Joe Abercrombie, Glen Cook.
Production grades
Cover: C
Design and typography: B
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A
Marriott turns the journey to catch the killer into an uber-intellectual thrill ride, incorporating the history of Virgil’s new home, proclaimed to be the storied Ithaca of Penelope and Odysseus. After Wellesley is uncloaked as a British spy, the investigation takes an unexpected and skillfully crafted twist. Marriott pulls plentiful red herrings across the plot, including a sexy island native cheating on her husband, an inn owner who may or may not be on the up-and-up, and a seemingly affable, world-famous British historian. The villain who emerges will surprise most readers.
Readers will feel the Mediterranean sun beating down as Marriott conjures, in crisp and sometimes clever prose, wine and vistas, like Vathy’s “horseshoe harbour of oranges, pinks, blues and greens.” Marriott’s impressive command of Greek mythology shines through on every page, allowing readers to become deeply familiar with Greek mythology while trying to parse out who the killer is. The author also proves himself a master of marrying the scholarly with a good old-fashioned mystery, which will deeply appeal to lovers of history, ancient cultures, and European living —but he also offers inviting context, without condescension, for readers not steeped in Circe and Laertes.
Takeaway: Fast-paced mystery doubles as bonus masterclass in Greek myth.
Comparable Titles: Anne Zouroudi’s The Messenger of Athens, Jeffrey Siger’s Murder in Mykonos.
Production grades
Cover: B+
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: B+
Editing: A-
Marketing copy: A
Renee had left her “crime scene” home to fly to Alaska with her daughter, Breea, finding safe haven at her mother-in-law’s house. But Renee soon had to return to San Diego to salvage or give away what was left of her life there. That handled, she answered the calling of her soul, relishing the nine day drive while rushing to make Eagle River for Breea’s eighth birthday. Without money for motels, Renee sleeps in her car or camps with pepper spray in hand. As she endures flashbacks and moments of terror, like leaving her keys and Haley locked in her car, Renee finds herself learning again to ask for help and trust others.
Moments of road-trip splendor also help: “I hadn’t felt so purely, deeply in the moment, and connected, ever in my life,” Renee writes of driving through the Canadian Rockies. Trauma grows after the trial, as the verdicts don’t slam the case shut, and Renee faces lies and innuendos as she seeks justice. Renee brings healing full circle as, years later, she moves toward active, radical forgiveness in a face-to-face encounter with the past. The result is complex and heartening, a feat of empathy.
Takeaway: Healing, forgiveness, and a marvelous road trip power this touching memoir.
Comparable Titles: Lysa TerKeurst’s Forgiving What You Can't Forget, Stephanie Foo’s What My Bones Know.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A-
Marketing copy: A
Driscoll viscerally brings 1990s high school drama to life, complete with the angst of solidifying a relationship amid the high school rumor mill. Lindsay, a high school girl who had an abortion after Scott got her pregnant, engages in a pretty extensive smear campaign against Harper to make her look bad, and the discussions between Scott, Lindsay and Harper at prom feel cruel but accurate. Despite Harper’s immaturity in dealing with a girl who knew Scott before her, Driscoll instills Harper with more backbone than a typical freshman. Notably, Harper is unwilling to settle for less than a real and public relationship as she abides by her own code of not missing class or sports practices to spend time with him.
With expert pacing, Driscoll draws the reader into the storyline, creating an immersive narrative that holds attention and entices readers to want to discover whether Scott and Harper finish out their year together and make the difficult transition as he leaves for college. The conclusion is somewhat satisfying, with just enough questions to whet appetites for the next installment.
Takeaway: 1990s high school romance brought to vivid life.
Comparable Titles: Lynn Painter’s Better Than the Movies, Alex Light’s The Upside of Falling.
Production grades
Cover: A-
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A-
Marketing copy: A
The more Nadine learns about Vince and his world, especially the reign of a vampire named Vladimir, the more she realizes that their chance encounter is more than fate—it is her destiny to aid in the ancient battle that will change her life and the lives of those closest to her. Ryder finds tension in the vampiric power to “compel” people, tying ancient lore to contemporary understanding of issues of consent, and a theme of sacrifice adds gravity to the action. As Nadine and Vince work together to fight an evil force, their bond strengthens but her other relationships suffer. Nadine must ultimately decide how much she is willing to give up to achieve victory.
The Darkest Side of the Moon explores themes of love, family, and betrayal through complex world building and character development, plus some fresh takes on familiar beasts, as it builds to an unexpected conclusion. The “you” perspective (“You hate gym,” one chapter starts) demands readers stay on their toes, but it lends an immersive power as readers seem to inhabit Nadine. Fans of vampire lore and supernatural fiction will relish the twists and attention to relationships—and they’ll be eager to sink their teeth into what’s next for the series.
Takeaway: This supernatural YA series casts “you” as the one to face ancient evil.
Comparable Titles: L.J. Smith’s The Vampire Diaries, Kami Garcia and Margaret Stohl’s Beautiful Creatures.
Production grades
Cover: B-
Design and typography: A-
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A-
Marketing copy: A
Readers will gain a deeper understanding of each character as this sequel, told in a more conventional third-person style than its predecessor, emphasizes character and relationships over action. Ryder digs deep into the traumas and uncertainties of the key cast, telling the story from varied perspectives and plumbing Vince and Meila’s fears that, with all their cravings, they might not be able to resist doing evil themselves—“Was she capable of mass destruction?” Melia wonders. “Did becoming a vampire change who she was?” Drawn to Melia’s light and innocence even as a new vampire, Vince feels great conflict, refraining from letting her in as he is still recovering from a previous heartbreak. Sexual assault is handled with a sensitive frankness.
That tender attention to character, and the novel’s hefty length, diminishes some narrative momentum, but the new mystery and villain are engaging and smartly bound up in the novel’s themes of discovering what one is capable of. Vivid descriptions and engaging emotional detail abound, and fans of high-stakes, character-rich YA that blend fantasy, romance, and horror will find much to feast on in a story that reminds us “Darkness does not drive out darkness. Only light can.”
Takeaway: Young vampires face their dark desires in this character-rich YA adventure.
Comparable Titles: Lauren Kate’s Fallen, L.A. Banks’s Shadow Walker.
Production grades
Cover: B
Design and typography: A-
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A-
Marketing copy: A
The plotting holds close to established tropes but executes them well; voracious young readers hungry for chosen ones and mystic academies will feel instantly at home. The idea of magical energy as going through meridians in the body is an original take that works. The core group of friends are all built with distinctive and relatable personalities and roles, and the main peer antagonist is so unsubtle in his non-acceptance of Mikey that readers will relish disliking him.
The storytelling is brisk and assured, as Night takes full advantage of the school setting to introduce the complexities of this world, including inventive lore, terminology, and powersets. The dangers feel real, but Night also exhibits a sure hand for teen thinking and the natural comedy of growing up supernatural. “Being the seventeen-year-old daughter of an 8,000-year-old vampire in the modern world wasn't easy,” he writes, of teen genius Viki, a complex and engaging creation who serves both as romantic antagonist and spying bridge between Mikey and the adult vampires interested in him. The penultimate battle, in which the group dynamic and the teens’ sharp dialogue shines, is a highlight, whetting appetites for more.
Takeaway: Friendships and monster battling power this YA supernatural school adventure.
Comparable Titles: Caleb Roehrig’s The Fell of Dark, Patrick Ness’s The Rest of Us Just Live Here.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A
Bernays pens beautiful descriptions of the natural world around Tuscon (“the lonely hills and valleys with their patches of yellow from Tecoma flowers and deep washes highlighted by the light greens of cottonwood trees”) that the women explore together, Bernays as she pursues research, Linda as she accompanies, discovering the rich life of the landscape. Like Linda, readers will develop a rousing sense of the passion that powers Bernays’s work. Other passions are teased out more slowly. Much of the narrative focuses on Linda, her background and struggles, all touchingly rendered, and as it’s only near the end of the book that Bernays directly addresses sexual identity and her bold choice to pursue a relationship with a woman. The memoir reads like it must have been lived, as a series of small discoveries that change two lives.
Especially engaging are stories of the women’s rambles through the desert and around the world, the sense of trust and connection strengthening between them. As Linda endeavors to find out more about her birth family, Bernays offers glimpses into her own childhood with a mother who would not approve of these choices, making clear how these issues have shaped both of these women’s lives and relationships. Bernays writes with clear-eyed tenderness, stirring readers to invest in this love story.
Takeaway: Touching story of a widowed scientist discovering unexpected love in the desert.
Comparable Titles: Cameron Esposito’s Save Yourself, Sophie Santos’s The One You Want to Marry (And Other Identities I’ve Had).
Production grades
Cover: B+
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A
Johnny, too, faces that fate when his actions during a bank robbery tip off the feds that he’s something special. Soon, he’s being interrogated, then given a deadly Cold War espionage mission that will, of course, have deadly blowback, as it won’t only be the U.S. interested in him. Bolinger writes this all with brisk clarity but a detached tone, observing the characters without digging into their perspectives. That means readers witness Johnny in action, destroying a federal armory or escaping a Russian prison, but have little sense of what he wants in life, what he makes of his astonishing abilities, or what he’s feeling when he offers to give his muscle car to a crush he’s just met.
Much of the story is told through crisp dialogue, while moments of descriptive action tend toward the flatly declarative. What’s memorable are inventive touches like dispatches from history captured in that journal, the clever experiments Johnny’s former science teacher runs him through, Johnny’s surprising uses of his ever-expanding set of powers, and the question of the hero's own future: what would it mean for someone possibly facing centuries of life to fall in love?
Takeaway: Fast-paced super heroics power this inventive series kickoff.
Comparable Titles: Marissa Meyer’s Renegades series, Douglas Smith’s Dream Rider Saga.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: B+
Marketing copy: B+
The book is abstract, the illustrations less emblematic of traditional picture-book storytelling than a collection of graphics more rudimentary than emojis. The titular black circle is generally positioned in the middle of the page, clearly the star of the show, with icons (like grapes for snack time or a cute cowboy hat for dress-up fun) positioned nearby. These simple images convey the activity, but without much in the way of artistry—the effect is something like early computer art from a dot matrix printer. The dot is by design inexpressive, lacking facial expressions, likely making it a challenge to relate to.
Nonetheless, Introducing Dot deep simplicity can be a virtue for the right audience, as it has the potential to be easily understood by the youngest of readers, and the ample white space and general sense of upbeat abstraction offers plenty of room for imagination on the reader’s part. Introducing Dot can be expanded upon or appreciated as the first stepping stone on the way to more reading and schooling adventures.
Takeaway: Minimalist introduction to reading and preschool for early readers.
Comparable Titles: Debora Vogrig and Pia Valentinis’s Line and Scribble, Laura Ljungkvist’s A Line Can Be.
Production grades
Cover: B
Design and typography: A-
Illustrations: C+
Editing: A
Marketing copy: B
That’s one of several poems dedicated to the irresistible idea of infatuation, a topic Durden handles with a fizzing sense of yearning and possibility. A related rhythm also powers “My Type,” which considers the traits of Durden’s ideal partner (“A man / A strong black man / A no-nonsense type of man”) with much engaging internal rhyme and stanza-ending declarations of “That’s right.” The tone is more rarified in the powerful “My King,” where a repeating structure and simpler language makes clear the urgent weight of the message. She writes, “Black men, you are strong / Black men, you are cherished and / Black men, you are loved.”
The collection also includes tributes to Durden’s mother and grandmother, a stage-ready call for unity and change, (“Let us unite to dismantle slavery, / Mental imprisonment, debt, physical bondage of jails and prisons”), and a celebration of having paid off student loans that shares a title with an Eric B. & Rakim classic and kicks off with the memorable couplet “Navient, it was you [or] the rent.” Readers looking for poetic straight talk with heat and bounce will find much here that engages.
Takeaway: Pulsing poems of love, life, unity, and cherishing Black men.
Comparable Titles: Evie Shockley, Jessica Care Moore.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A-
Marketing copy: A
THE LIGHT WITHIN DARKNESS
Jeffrey’s novels, like the universe itself, tend toward the expansive, and The Light Within Darkness feels bigger than ever. Still, for all its new worlds (there’s many, and the crew relishes naming them) and unsettling marvels (a "cloneborg crèche”; a tiny, mobile black hole) nobody ever loses sight of home—the Earth—as they venture far beyond our solar system in 2218. Aidan listens to 20th century jazz, worries over “One Earth” movement conspiracy theories, and struggles with a form of addiction.
The action is brainy but still visceral, rendered in crisp prose, with stakes that couldn’t be higher. But the heart of this series is in teamwork, in singular solutions to intractable problems, in impossible dilemmas and hard choices, whether they be cosmic conundrums about the origins of life or the moral question of whether to destroy clones of a genocidal leader. Pacing is brisk, and Jeffrey proves a master of and-another-thing excitement: an early, low-key romantic interlude gives way to discussion of possibility of “intergalactic ecosystems analogous to organic planetary ones,” which is interrupted by a missile attack. Such moments are SF bliss.
Takeaway: Stellar space-faring SF bursting with new worlds and camaraderie.
Comparable Titles: C. J. Cherryh, Robert J Sawyer’s Starplex.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A
Niall finds himself being called a hero after filming the act of terrorism and talking the two men down from further violence. As England descends into a state of unrest in which, as Niall’s uncle puts it, “Because of all the terrorist paranoia, the police are going after innocent people without just cause,” Niall’s given a surprise opportunity: to work with his biological father, Leonard Huffman, a famous photographer, on a documentary regarding the two Islamists, whose act was inspired by England’s involvement in the Middle East. From there, Beck’s story picks up steam,encompassing a murder, a family kidnapping, a suicide bomber, more religious extremists, concerns about British racism and journalistic ethics, and the scheming of strivers in the government.
Charged colloquies about politics, xenophobia, and more are translated with the same crisp clarity as scenes of action. While a high-stakes page turner, Beck offers little in the way of escapism, lacing this exciting thriller with empathy and moral seriousness, using the form of a thriller to explore profound societal rifts. At the same time, Fade to Black will keep readers on the edge of their seats.
Takeaway: Shock after shock in this thoughtful page-turner terrorism thriller.
Comparable Titles: Richard Flanagan’s The Unknown Terrorist, Ausma Zerharat Khan.
Production grades
Cover: B
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A-
Marketing copy: A-
A Fish Has No Word For Water: A punk homeless San Francisco memoir
A Fish Has No Word for Water is a memoir constantly in motion. As it opens we learn Violet Blue’s mother, a former engineer and hacker turned cocaine dealer, is an erstwhile member of the witness protection program. Violet comes home from school one day, at the age thirteen, and finds her Mother has skipped out. Now homeless, she falls in with a group of punks who help her learn the ways of the streets such as which restaurants will give you food, who to watch out for, and how to find a safe place to sleep. “You gotta decide your rules right away,” she is told by her new friend, Rogue, “and you can never, ever break them.”
There is a stark contrast between learning how to live on the streets and the beautiful Victorian mansions draped in the ever present fog. These contrasts are seen throughout (example: a Jewish Nazi skinhead) and drives home the point that nothing’s for certain and tomorrow is never promised. Sharp dialogue, incisive observations, and polished prose power the book: “Both neighborhoods were broken fables with people dying in the street,” she writes, of the Castro and the Haight.
Takeaway: Superb memoir of a punk’s life on the streets in 1980s San Francisco.
Comparable Titles: Aaron Cometbus’s Despite Everything: A Cometbus Omnibus, Janice Erlbaum’s Girlbomb: A Halfway Homeless Memoir.
Production grades
Cover: A-
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A
My Stay with the Sisters: Poems
Some of Cantafio’s poems are piercingly somber, as in “mom’s the word”: “mom is the word left on the string// that connected our tin cans,” but a few succeed in straddling the line between heavy and light, as in “sit down, Billy”: “the Bard lied to us. // [...] we do not leave on // iambic pentameter. // it’s more free verse, less sonnet.” Incorporating various poetic forms, including villanelle and haiku, and Sutton’s charmingly disheveled, Shel Silverstein-inspired illustrations of the sisters’ home, Cantafio strives to lay bare the spectrum of emotional response to loss so that this purging may heal those in the throes of mourning.
In the house of Grief and Gratitude, mourners can find “an orientation point” amid the vast amount of space and grace that is required to walk from the room of acute grief toward another, where “happy feels like an // old pair of jeans you put on,// surprised they still fit.” There is no end to grief and gratitude; as the poet mentions, “this feeling was — and is — on a loop,” and readers looking for guidance on their own looping journeys through loss will find a gentle sanctuary in Cantafio’s collection and a visit with those sisters.
Takeaway: A poetic odyssey through the house of sisters Grief and Gratitude.
Comparable Titles: Edwin Arlington Robinson’s The House on the Hill, Roberta Bondi’s Wild Things.
Production grades
Cover: B
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: B+
