Soon, Frazell springs on readers a shocking death, some attempts on Lefhans’s life, a frightening connection to the Third Reich, and intimations that the Lefhans lineage is tied up in a grand secret, all amid hints that some feral beast stalks humanity—and the revelation that an inventor, Franklin Melby, actually created the device Edison couldn’t, an “Electoplasmic Valve,” a sort of Pandora’s box. The columnist, though, is a classic skeptic, even on the run, with Israeli spy Valli protecting him—and striving to get this “frivolous” man to take this all seriously.
Lefhans’s flipness keeps the adventure fun even as Frazell—and a pair of other perspective characters, separated from Lefhans’s account by years—is dead serious about the implications that all our fates hinge on the Valve … and that global chaos, environmental catastrophes, and the rise of fascism all have roots in Lefhans’s 2001. Frazell manages this narrative trick without cheapening the real-world roots of international crises. The Lefhans chapters can move so quickly that suspense and mystery don’t have space to develop fully, and the narratives-within-narratives result in some interruptions of momentum, but readers fascinated by conspiratorial alt-history noir will find much to love here.
Takeaway: This bold, playful thriller asks what if our world today is the dystopian future.
Great for fans of: Arthur Shattuck O'Keefe’s The Spirit Phone, Matt Ruff.
Production grades
Cover: B-
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: B+

Cray intriguingly blurs the lines of reality with his approach to panpsychism, the story stirring traditional suspense even as it rewards readers’ willingness to roll along with some conscious-expanding leaps. The big ideas are paired with a welcome interest in the practical implications: Mathewt’s introduction into this strikingly imagined “Elemental world” initially sees him speaking to various objects, only to be witnessed by someone from his company, forcing a leave of absence. As Matthew develops an intuition about what they’d like to communicate, Cray conjures up eerily paranoid moments that will keep readers guessing about the objects' intentions and abilities—and how far they will go.
Humanity’s wretched stewardship of the world proves a potent throughline as The Reality Meltdown touches on tense political situations, the existential threat of climate change, and other upsetting demonstrations of our indifference to all but ourselves. Cray builds to a positive message within the final pages, posing resonant questions between jolts of action and suspense.
Takeaway: A thrilling, provocative SF story on how the world adapts to us.
Great for fans of:Lee Mandelo's Feed Them Silence, Seon Manley and Gogo Lewis’s Nature’s Revenge
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A
The measurement problem, of course, centers on the mystery of the collapse of a wave function at the moment of measurement. In previous books, Smith has made the case that this transition from corporeal to physical “cannot be accomplished by means of the causality upon which physics as such is based.” Here, he goes further, arguing that understanding the transition means stepping outside of physics altogether. “I incline to believe that the worst metaphysics is generally to be found among those who claim not to have any at all,” Smith writes, with customary wit, in a preface.
That exemplifies the text that follows, a crisp, coherent, unabashedly opinionated presentation that will be clear and engaging to readers who need not be subject experts to follow along—though some background in physics will certainly aid in evaluation of Smith’s contentions, which suggest, at times, a return of Platonism. Smith is a deft stylist, offering brisk, memorable thumbnail rundowns of physics, ontology, and the histories of science, mathematics, and more. The crucial distinctions he draws between the physical and corporeal, or horizontal and vertical causality, come through wharp clarity. Three included articles digging deeper into aspects of IW illuminate the main text.
Takeaway: A sharply penned argument that solving physics’ great puzzle demands stepping outside of physics.
Great for fans of: Jean Borella and Wolfgang Smith’s Rediscovering the Integral Cosmos, Sabine Hossenfelder’s Existential Physics.
Production grades
Cover: B
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A

Michaels’s inspired depiction of relationships grounds this ordeal, with the key family dynamic feeling truly special and genuine to the characters. Selena’s mother, brother, and stepfather help her to come to terms with her identity—although in the case of her stepfather, he must struggle with his own discovery of the Sirens before he can help Selena. Selena also has a strong group of friends to back her up against a bully’s threat against her family. Whether she is navigating her new powers, a mean girl, or falling for a boy, Selena is sure to have someone by her side, this sense of togetherness lends to an overall feeling of emotional and psychological realism despite the prominence of fantastical elements.
Those elements, too, are deftly handled, with Selena’s “Siren-senses”—allowing her to ““hear the undertow as it pulls at our bodies”—and other supernatural inventions reading as original and exciting, Michaels’s prose touched with briny poetry. This story is well thought out and engaging; the mythology and the characters are appealing and are sure to keep the reader invested in Selena’s journey. Selena’s Song is an ideal YA fantasy, imaginative, polished, and accomplished.
Takeaway: An ideal YA fantasy, great for fans of Greek mythology and sure to keep you on the edge of your seat.
Great for fans of: Lucy Strange’s The Mermaid in the Millpond, Tracy Deonn’s Lengendborn.
Production grades
Cover: B
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A
Elijah, whose deep regard for mortals is viewed as a weakness by the other watchers, is a convincing character with relatable emotions, despite his otherworldly position. When he’s gravely injured from a WWI German shell blast, he wakes up with amnesia, and an immediate connection to his nurse, Michelle, who witnesses his miraculous recovery. The innocence of their love is refreshing, as Elijah initially doesn’t remember his immortal status, but as his memory slowly returns, he’s forced to choose between his love for Michelle and his duty to safeguard humans. Hauck manages to make Elijah’s indecision believable, and his feelings for Michelle are just as forceful as his commitment to humankind—particularly when he realizes becoming fully mortal could cause thousands more to die in the war.
What makes this novel stand out is Hauck’s choice to place his characters into actual historical events, generating realism alongside the fantasy. While Lu engineers destruction, Elijah tries to turn the tide through his own small changes—like convincing Theodore Roosevelt to push America to join the war, or saving Churchill’s life when he contemplates suicide in 1916. The result is a riveting consideration of how much one person will sacrifice to protect others.
Takeaway: An immortal must choose between his true love or saving humankind in this promising series start.
Great for fans of: Jill Williamson’s By Darkness Hid, Serena Chase’s Eyes of E’veria series.
Production grades
Cover: B-
Design and typography: A-
Illustrations: NA
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A
Paul’s imaginative world includes human-like robots, “giant, four-legged creatures” with “an armadillo-like appearance,” and human genetic alterations. The expertly paced action rumbles through the pages as murder and anarchy strike. Asher may be a young genius, but he experiences the same relatable insecurities of many young individuals who find themselves stumbling at the precipice of a new, unfamiliar adventure. Eager to fit in with the cool kids, especially his influential roommate Nico, he brushes off the digs at his humble background and embraces the carefree party lifestyle. Callie prefers solitude and the company of her pet fox, Cloud. The juxtaposition of these two brings humanity to a creative world built on futuristic technology mixed with a dollop of whimsy, but within this magical setting lies a dangerous threat.
Paul hooks readers early and never lets them go as secrets are unearthed and Asher and Callie must combine talents to fight evil. At the core of this thrill ride are thought-provoking questions regarding immortality, death, and the role science plays in both. Mix these themes with a heavy helping of political unrest and Paul concocts an explosive look into corruption, power, and greed. Fans of genre mashups, dark secrets coming to light, and characters worth rooting for will be on board.
Takeaway:: A pulse-racing blend of fantasy, science fiction, action, and relatable young heroes.
Great for fans of: Cindy Pon’s Want, Olivia A. Cole’s A Conspiracy Of Stars.
Production grades
Cover: B
Design and typography: A-
Illustrations: B
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A
From there, the novel offers a wealth of perspectives and surprises, with Datta taking great care to guide readers through the labyrinth of time jumps, A.I. surprises, alternate histories, and Jack Kirby-scaled visions: “Chronos’s scythe, Zeus’s thunderbolt, Hades’s spear, and Poseidon’s trident multiply and create an impenetrable wall of weapons,” Datta writes in one go-for-broke moment. While more narratively complex than its predecessor, The Movement is in many ways more inviting, right down to the helpful footnotes explaining the nuances of backstories.
The length is daunting, though the story moves fast, balancing heart, brainy timeline complexities, and an ethos of self-sacrifice to protect us all. Passages from the point-of-view of Vandal are especially engaging, blending mad science, righteous revenge, and Vincent’s own history. For all its sweeping scope—the “escalating tragedies” foretold by the mysterious Chronos—the novel’s heart is as much in its romance as in the intreton-powered “core” that only a Time Corrector can draw upon.
Takeaway: This time-bending epic blends SF, romance, and adventure on the grandest scale.
Great for fans of: Heather Blackwood’s Time Corps Chronicles, Blake Crouch’s Recursion.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A-
Marketing copy: A-

Joe proposes, and he has their lives all laid out: a new home in New York City, to go with his new consulting business, and the new boat he bought for the honeymoon, without checking in with Lee, who has recurring nightmares of shipwrecks. An ill-wind blows soon after she accepts, and Medlock’s vibrantly detailed novel surges into a tumultuous age and milieu, its world of marches, movement politics, Play it as it Lays, Italian weddings, and audiences with the Maharishi, all captured with a verisimilitude that’s both dishy and nerve-wracking. (One sharp invention: a dopey hippie musical called Boobs, the “defining theatre work of their era.”)
What’s most wrenching, though, is the man Joe reveals himself to be, angry and fragile as his ceramic bulldogs. Lee’s eventual efforts at making a mistake, like the rest of the narrative, ride her zeitgeist, as she finds strength and support as “the rise of feminism was changing so many rules, confusing so many people.” The richness of characterization and cultural reporting comes at the expense of narrative momentum, and the length is epic. But it’s urgent and alive, studded with insights and a relentless succession of striking scenes.
Takeaway: This marvelously written epic lays bare a woman’s awakening at the dawn of second wave feminism.
Great for fans of: Rachel Kushner’s The Flamethrowers, Dorothy Bryant’s Ella Price’s Journal.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A-
Marketing copy: A
Despite the rather heavy subject matter, Karl’s plotting and storytelling are light and fun, with much of the novel caught up in descriptions of romance, parties, and social scenery. George himself swings from one love affair to the next, his social life at times seeming to take narrative precedence over his daring secret. The passages when Karl shifts focus to the ANC and their fight against apartheid, meanwhile, convincingly depict the system, its lived peculiarities, and what it took to stand up to it. Likewise, scenes involving political wrangling or the bureaucratic tangle of working abroad are distinguished by the author’s expertise.
Karl’s novel is no thriller fantasy, digging into life and spycraft as it’s actually lived, offering lively and in-depth insight into African politics, history, and culture rather than the plot twists of a potboiler. The dialogue and characterization both are sharp, and Karl’s smooth, unfussy prose keeps the story flowing smoothly as he illuminates a fresh milieu, avoiding the stereotypes or ginned-up suspense that often compromise stories of white Americans in Africa. Lovers of romance and spy novels with a real-world edge will enjoy this story, which is as light in its telling as it is weighty in its concerns.
Takeaway: A thoughtful novel of an American expat fighting apartheid in Africa, told with a light touch.
Great for fans of: Eleanor Morse’s White Dog Fell from the Sky, Graham Greene.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A-
The ambitious cross-generational novel addresses compelling social issues such as class, health care, and women’s reproductive rights without taking a heavy-handed approach. Bryant's empathy and understanding shines throughout, a uniting perspective that helps unite some at-times disparate storylines. The Mother Gene employs three points of view—Miriam, Lillian, and Olivia—to good effect as it explores the theme of what it means to be a mother. A multi-timeline novel, the story hops from the present in 2010, back to Miriam’s early career in the 1970s, and then further back to her mother’s life during the Depression and World War II. Early on, these time shifts can feel jarring and too frequent, and what particular flashbacks are intended to illuminate is not always clear.
Bryant rewards reader patience, though, as midway through, when the characters are more fleshed-out, the strands weave together, and the narrative flows with purpose and power. Some readers may guess at aspects of Miriam’s family secret early on, and the revelation itself is somewhat drawn out. But when it finally arrives, the full truth about Lillian and Miriam’s past delivers an emotional punch thanks to Bryant’s perceptive, humane characterization and abiding sense of what matters most.
Takeaway: A gynecologist questions the choices she made in her life in this humane novel of family and secrets.
Great for fans of: Diane Chamberlain, Jodi Picoult
Production grades
Cover: B+
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A
Young readers will again be entertained with Eudora’s antics and Horn’s playful storytelling. Eudora unintentionally breaks Walter after he beats her at a board game, kickstarting a massive effort with her best friend, Arnold, to hide the accident—by using Eudora’s newest invention, a “remote-control-person device,” to take over Walter’s movements and voice. As always, her big ideas lead to chaos and a lesson, this time about owning up to your mistakes after Captain Jax needs Walter on the bridge to help stop yet another alien Qlaxon attack, and Eudora and Arnold’s plan backfires. All is not lost however: in typical Eudora fashion, she inadvertently staves off the attack by introducing the power-hungry aliens to competitive board-game play.
Horn’s creative details—Eudora and Molly were adopted by alien parents, and Arnold’s dad is actually a Qlaxon (and the ship’s chief of security)— give the story an exciting interstellar feel, while Tondora’s black-and-white illustrations bring the characters’ emotions front and center. And those emotions form the crux of Horn’s important message: that sharing your feelings and accepting help from others is the true secret to conquering the galaxy. The mock author interview at the end, spearheaded by Horn’s dog, Trixie, and a fun story-centered crossword add extra amusement.
Takeaway: An entertaining space tale with valuable lessons on handling your emotions.
Great for fans of: Lizzie Lipman’s Rocket Kids, Peter Brown’s The Wild Robot.
Production grades
Cover: B+
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: A
Editing: B
Marketing copy: A-

The subject matter reflects the collection’s poetic form, often juxtaposing, as is traditional in Japanese poetry, seemingly disparate images to illuminate stark truths that relate at times to the political, as in “The Machine” and “A Drop of Water,” the ancestral, as in “Inheritance” and “Grandma’s Stories,” and the natural, as in “Kaleidoscope” and “First Light,” where lines like “tired of the English language / I sit in the shade/ with a cranefly” explore the kind of paradoxes that aren’t housed in the sphere of chaos but rather the sphere of dream. The world is always turning, yet life remains still. Echoes shows readers contradictions of peace.
Yet while Hyatt and Salzer’s poems occupy this lulling, liminal space of blurred consciousness, they also harmonize into a soundtrack or sound-portrait of modern life, and the collection is abundant with lines like this one from “Black Ice”: “breaking news/ in the old t.v./ drifting clouds.” The way we live today is exposed in blends of dissimilar images that pair the mundane with the strange, but the authors throughout point towards how we can find serenity amid this chaos. An echo is a thing between sound and silence, and readers in this collection will find depth and meaning in their exposure to all three.
Takeaway: A linked-verse collaboration exploring nature, friendship, and the spaces between.
Great for fans of: Hiroaki Sato’s One Hundred Frogs, Matsuo Bashō.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A

Complicating all this, of course, is the mess they’ve already made, as Lorena Sanchez, a long-ago friend of Hunter’s and a cop on her last case, closes in on the plan. (The heist is planned by men, but it’s the many compelling women who often have the upper hand.) The storytelling is tense, taut, and emotionally resonant, the silent panels of characters going about their days, weighed down by worries, every bit as suspenseful as the action. The creators excel at depicting hard lives, addiction and desperation, at the thrill of plotting a heist but also the compounding tragedies that lead to such a crime—and that will follow. Romera’s layouts are clear, sometimes stark, the emphasis always on the people and gripping flow of action and feeling across a page.
The dialogue is pared to the bone, never wasting a word. Like all the best crime stories, this volume stirs a sinking in the pit of the stomach as the heist approaches, and the violence, when it comes, is wrenching but humane. The conclusion proves satisfying, though new readers are advised to start with the first collection.
Takeaway: The knockout conclusion of a smart and humane graphic novel crime series.
Great for fans of: David Lapham’s Stray Bullets, Ed Brubaker and Sean Phillips’s Criminal.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A
Deepak’s experiences are moving and ring true, echoing and enriching truths that have been explored in the body of South Asian immigrant writing. Acharya’s prose tends toward the blunt and declaratory, fitting the drudge work that Deepak, who lacks legal work documents, must take on to achieve his dreams. Deepak’s over-qualified, and often jolted by what he encounters in America, from his friend Ganesh’s refusal of his embrace (“Only gays do so”) to realizations about his own ingrained attitudes: “He claimed he did not believe in the caste system, but every time, when he reached the Dumpster, he felt humiliated.”
This narrative of soul-crushing work and cultural alienation in the interest of ambition is frank, revealing, and insightful. Occasional moments of connection lift the spirits of Deepak and readers alike, though key relationships—like that between Deepak and Melissa, who exchange poetry—are not explored in depth. Melissa’s issues with Deepak come up during the denouement but would have added welcome drama if dramatized earlier. That feeling of being cut off from others is powerful, but the novel comes to fullest life in moments of interaction.
Takeaway: An insightful novel about a Nepali immigrant's isolating experience in the U.S.
Great for fans of: Rajika Bhandari’s America Calling, Anurag Mathur’s The Inscrutable Americans.
Production grades
Cover: A-
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: B
Marketing copy: A
Harrell’s cloud photos are collaborative, between artist and nature, between beholder and photograph, between our at-a-glance perceptions and the deeper, expansive visions we tend to allow ourselves only in meditation or reverie. In inviting prefatory essays, Harrell persuasively links the art of cloud photography to “chance” images from the history of art, especially to da Vinci’s contention that “by indistinct things”—by this he means “the stains of walls, or ashes of a fire, or clouds, or mud or like places” “the mind is stimulated to new inventions.”
Harrell’s writing and photography here both combine the ecstatic with disciplined research and honed practices. The result is both inspired—the photographs reward patience with revelations—and inspiring: for readers, those revelations need not be the same ones that Harrell herself discerned. A chapter on clouds “as a meditative tool” explicitly encourages what the photos implicitly do, urging the discovery of “minute interconnections” in nature. Excerpts from others’ work on the history of chance images illuminate the material.
Takeaway: Seekers will relish this collection’s rich cloud photography and history of “chance images.”
Great for fans of: Robin Kelsey’s Photography and the Art of Chance, Rachel Eisendrath’s Gallery of Clouds.
Production grades
Cover: B+
Design and typography: A-
Illustrations: A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A
Nixon recounts the harrowing circumstances of his birth, digs into generational trauma, and testifies to the strength of familial bonds even in the face of uncertainty and chaos, all while painting a vivid, deeply personal picture of the ways many who experience mental illness are judged and viewed through a biased mindset rather than given the care and help they need. Nixon tells the story of his upbringing in emotionally charged prose that will resonate with readers of memoirs about trauma and mental issues; elsewhere, he offers a survivor’s clear-eyed assessment of the system itself, helpful breakdowns of new approaches like the Crisis Now model, and suggestions for how anyone can become an advocate for better treatment for a loved one, though at times the analysis of the potential systemic changes is generalized.
The book’s power comes from Nixon’s examination of the toll that living with untreated mental illness can wreak upon a family and the helpful, often inspiring advice and examples Nixon offers. A memoir showcasing familial bonds and rising above one's circumstances, Born into Crisis will resonate with readers facing the impact of mental illness in their lives.
Takeaway: A touching memoir on familial bonds, generational trauma, and mental health awareness.
Great for fans of: Bruce D. Perry’s What Happened to You, Jenifer Lewis’s The Mother of Black Hollywood.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A