Baker deftly delivers the overarching message—that anger fuels poor choices—without sounding preachy, a balance that middle schoolers will appreciate. The snappy dialogue will tickle the funny bones of both adults and kids, especially the chatter between dog and boy. Rex’s advice on controlling anger: “Try taking deep breaths and counting to ten. That’s what I do to keep from biting you when you take forever to walk me.” Elsewhere, CJ laments, “If my Mom and Dad found out I destroyed the Lincoln Memorial AND the Jefferson Memorial, I will be grounded until I am 35.”
Charming full-color graphics from Pratyush and Rituparna Chatterjee perfectly complement the tale, drawing readers into the short but impactful story– which strikes a nice balance between the real world, with angry mothers and principals and childhood fights, and fantasy elements like talking dogs, fireballs, and giant household objects. Kids will happily consider the importance of staying calm while reading and rereading this appealing offering.
Takeaway: This middle grade graphic novel’s message about reining in anger will please superhero-minded readers of all ages.
Great for fans of: Frank Cottrell Boyce’s the Astounding Broccoli Boy, Dav Pilkey’s Dog Man.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A

The third book in a trilogy on twentieth century war weapons (after The Neutron's Long Shadow and Weapons of Mass Destruction), Triumph and Tragedy lays out a clear, compelling history of the development of war technology, with welcome attention paid to the political, economic, and cultural currents powering a series of international arms races before, during, and after the World Wars. Miller appreciates that war machines aren’t produced in a vacuum, and his attention to sneaky business like the self-serving relationship between Bethlehem Steel and the secretary of the U.S. Navy during the Cleveland administration is welcome and clarifying, as is his depiction of the deployment of these weapons by often reckless actors working from perceived national interests.
Miller supplements this rich material with accounts of the changing nature of war, often with telling quotes from the people who lived and died in the shadows of these machines. The star, though, is Miller’s photography, plus a host of well-selected archival images and documents. He offers a succession of marvelous photos, often beautiful and barbarous at once, the killing machines looming and unmanned, the gray bolts, treads and gun barrels mute testament to our ingenuity–and appetite for power
Takeaway: This beautiful, outraged photographic survey of twentieth century war machines will dazzle and challenge fans of military history.
Great for fans of: Weapons & Warfare of the 20th Century, David Edgerton’s Britain's War Machine.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A
Gregory’s relationships with her family members are central to her story, and she doesn’t shy away from their complexities, addressing flaws and imperfections with sensitivity and nuance. Her mother’s ADHD and paranoid schizophrenia constantly exacerbate the family’s pain and the struggle of scraping by, though Gregory portrays her with a balance of unvarnished honesty and deep compassion and love. She also turns that candor on herself, examining her brief adolescent drug use, her unusual marriage, and her time in therapy. Always infusing these past experiences with incisive present-day commentary, Gregory lays bare the everyday humanity of complex choices—and mistakes.
Gregory’s strong narrative voice—one chapter opens “When I was still on speed, hanging out in the living room with other degenerates on an all-nighter at my dealer’s house, I pulled out a postcard”—is enhanced by strong dialogue and a facility for capturing striking sights, smells, tastes, and sounds of her past, though at times an abundance of detail slows the storytelling. The specificity, though, conveys a strong sense of time and place as Gregory offers fascinating insight into the HIV/AIDs crisis, civil unrest in Los Angeles, and grunge-era teen malaise. Despite the extraordinary and often heartbreaking challenges that Gregory has faced, her sincerity, realism, and determination will inspire readers of all backgrounds.
Takeaway: Readers interested in mental health and coming of age in the late 20th century will appreciate this moving story of resilience and healing.
Great for fans of: Dorothy Allison’s Bastard Out of Carolina, Jeannette Walls’s The Glass Castle, Tara Westover’s Educated.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A

This family tree can be challenging to track, but ter Hart’s conversational style incites readers in and transports them into the center of her family’s experiences. Her stories of “Tante Mina,” an aunt who survived multiple concentration camps after her husband turned her over to the Nazis, is spellbinding, as is the family secret that her grandfather, Giovanni Vittali, hid a fortune’s worth of valuables for Jewish friends and family through his construction company. Equally moving are ter Hart’s personal photographs, such as a reproduction of her grandmother’s star of David and a snapshot of seven-year-old Maurits, a relative who was killed at Sobibor. Throughout the account, ter Hart returns to the family’s tendency to have twins, the genealogical thread that spurred her interest in uncovering her family’s background.
While ter Hart never shies away from shocking details (at Auschwitz she notes the “still visible claw marks of human fingernails on the walls of the gas chambers”), she highlights the silver lining of stumbling across her family’s confidences–including finally being able to connect with a distant relative who survived. She leaves readers with the gut-wrenching insight “[h]ow grievous that humans, generally, still seem unable to evolve beyond being the hunter, the hunted, or the watcher,” and anyone intrigued by family histories and uncompromising historical fiction will discover a narrative to remember.
Takeaway: An unforgettable odyssey of family, overflowing with devotion, grief, and resilience.
Great for fans of: Adiva Geffen’s Surviving the Forest, David Crow’s The Pale-Faced Lie.
Production grades
Cover: A-
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: B
The narrative is fast-paced, and as a journalist who has spent 20 years covering the tech industry, Carr navigates this world with persuasive ease, his prose steeped in the local slang, jargon, and modes of thinking: “There’s no better way to understand Silicon Valley than to trace the path from feeder schools like Stanford through incubators like XXCubator, all the way to the Nasdaq,” he notes. Readers not steeped in the ins and outs of Silicon Valley may find it dense and occasionally inscrutable, and a circuitous plot at times adds to the challenge of keeping up with McCarthy. Others might not have the stomach for the novel’s frank descriptions of sexual assault.
Still, 1414º is an engaging read, with strong-willed female protagonists driving the plot and its action. With real-world news and events often serving as the building blocks, Carr creates a fictional world both similar to and scarier than the one we inhabit, all while putting his own spin on hot-button issues like the end of data privacy, the danger of online trolls, and, above all else, powerful men’s use and abuse of women. Silicon Valley aficionados, women in tech, and lovers of complex, fast-paced murder mysteries will enjoy this book, which reads as a potent critique of tech industry culture.
Takeaway:A fast-paced Silicon Valley murder mystery with a larger message of social justice.
Great for fans of: Adrian McCarthy’s Blue Screen of Death, Mark Coggins’s Vulture Capital.
Production grades
Cover: B+
Design and typography: B+
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: B+
Marketing copy: A
Zachary notes, in an inviting preface, that she hopes that reading this new version of the most familiar (and fought over) of tales will prove a “perspective-shifting experience” for readers. She acknowledges that there’s no record establishing the precise relationship between Yeshua and Maryam, but concludes they must have been close friends, together embodying the “necessary balance of sacred masculine and divine feminine energies.” That balance guides Zachary, who alternates between masculine and feminine pronouns for God and has Yeshua address disciple Shimon’s distaste for Maryam’s prominence among the disciples who “fish for people.”
Zachary sources most lines of her retelling in ancient texts, combining Christian beliefs with other traditions, emphasizing light, rebirth, and knowing the self as a route to healing. (An appendix spells out the subtitle’s “keys for resurrecting your life.”) A spiritual healer herself, she preserves the healing miracles, though her take on the loaves and fishes story suggests Yeshua as a good manager rather than a creator of food. She numbers the lines, offers copious explanations of familiar and unfamiliar terms, and places the words of God in blue text. Readers looking to blend Christian teachings with other spiritual traditions will find much to ponder.
Takeaway: A vivid, deeply researched retelling of key moments of the Gospels, woven through with elements of other spiritual traditions.
Great for fans of: Thomas Jefferson’s Jefferson Bible, Elaine Pagels’s The Gnostic Gospels.
Production grades
Cover: B
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A-
Brennan, who has a background in climate studies, effectively shows how individuals adapt to new, shocking situations. Rory's "army boots were removed from a corpse at the time of the flood without a second thought," and the boats no longer have life jackets: "life had little value." Occasionally, the point of view switches to wild animals, especially the arctic foxes, who are also struggling, a pivot that grants an especially rich perspective on the environmental calamity, despite interrupting the main narrative. In fact, the story feels crowded at times, with too many characters and plot lines to gain a deep sense for any of them, but the glimpses are engaging, and each story moves at a swift pace.
The most engrossing aspect of this apocalyptic adventure is Brennan's vision of how humans may organize themselves in a dystopian society. He has meticulously mapped out a future, as shown when the local Six offers Rory the sheriff's job, and we see a community that runs with a curious—and plausible—mix of democracy and commonsense oligarchy. But Brennan doesn’t shy away from the potential abuses: as the rulers become more desperate, they become more dictatorial, meting out swift and violent justice. Indeed, the book offers reasons for both hope and despair—and a message of our environmental future that will resonate long after the final page is read.
Takeaway: Sci-fi and climate fiction fans will relish this richly detailed—and all-too-possible—dystopian actioner.
Great for fans of: Diane Cook’s The New Wilderness, M. R. Carey’s Ramparts Trilogy.
Production grades
Cover: A-
Design and typography: A-
Illustrations: A-
Editing: B+
Marketing copy: B
The series stands out for its author’s dedication to “specific neurodiverse reading comforts.” Pickel notes that she’s telling this story over multiple books but with consistent chapter numbers and pagination. Thinking of the hefty Scinan Legacy as the first nine chapters of a longer book rather than as a standalone might help readers who find the pacing slow even for epic fantasy. These pages are devoted to friendship and world-building, but of the most inviting sort. In that same preface Pickel promises that she has crafted the novel for readers who prefer “expanded descriptions of characters’ emotions and motivations.” So these characters are thoroughly, engagingly drawn, at times explained to the point of redundancy.
The Realms, too, are presented with welcoming imagination. Pickel guides readers through this world as her her quartet of likely heroes-to-be--three young men and one young woman, a seer accompanied by a wonderful shape-shifting pal called a pucca—tour a sort of fantasy Worlds Fair, lingering in pavilions dedicated to the many sharply drawn cultures. The plot picks up 200 pages in, when the two chief protagonists connect at last—a connection that might shake the Realms. Fantasy fans comfortable with the cozy pace will be eager for the next (literal) chapter.
Takeaway: This new epic fantasy series prioritizes friendship, character, and clarity as it reveals a fascinating world gone stagnant.
Great for fans of:Robin Hobb, Katherine Kurtz.
Production grades
Cover: A-
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: A
Editing: A-
Marketing copy: B+

The heart of Whitehead’s richly emotional narrative is Finn’s journey of self-discovery and her desire to forge her own path in the shadow of her father’s notoriety. Hemingway’s Daughter draws on the storied author’s history to address controversies surrounding his novels—and once-pressing allegations that he supported communism—adding realism and credibility to the conceit of an imagined daughter. Whitehead expertly develops Finn, interspersing (invented) letters from her father and (actual) quotes from his books into the text. The letters, playfully reminiscent of Hemingway’s famous style, find him offering support for his daughter while noting the vital role that writing plays in his life. Finn’s complexity comes through as she fights against boarding school bullying and addresses how her physical appearance and height run contrary to societal standards.
Whitehead emphasizes her similarities to her father—namely, their mutual struggles with alcoholism and its potential to overshadow their brilliance. Finn’s innermost feelings about her father will resonate most with readers, as she closes this compelling narrative: “He was flawed and fabulous, mean-spirited bully and most gracious of men, driven wordsmith and drunken raconteur, braggart and humble man, international icon and Midwestern boy, all of it. It was all true.”
Takeaway: Ernest Hemingway’s fictional daughter comes to life in a compelling and nuanced story of love, inheritance, and making your own way.
Great for fans of: Erika Robuck’s Hemingway’s Girl, Naomi Wood’s Mrs. Hemingway
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A
Ramsey experiments with voice, point of view, and form throughout this slim collection. Some poems make use of dialogue, bringing the ruminations outside of the prevailing interiority. A few use blocks of text and a meditative tone to illustrate a scene, while others edge toward song structures, with rhythmic refrains and repeated lines. Ramsey often employs strong first-person narration, evoking the feeling of someone recording their deepest insecurities in a journal, but he also offers second person reassurances, perhaps to the reader, perhaps to the speaker: “Meaning falls from the sky at such alarming rates, / You are a human being, my love, you are a human / being…”
At times the many untitled poems can seem to bleed into each other as one long-form narration or meant to be enjoyed in sharp, separate bursts. In true postmodern tradition, Ramsey presents critiques of “the...twenty-first century / wasted mind” in conversation with larger philosophical questions of the self. In Ramsey’s poetic world, no one problem is more legitimate than the next, rather compounding in how they impact the artist. He addresses the canon, then eschews it: “no longer do I aspire to the golden gate of poetry - / to the muses, Keats, Wordsworth, Collins, or Shelly, / but a poor muse, a humble muse will do, / who can be in the society of wretch.” Instead, he finds his own way.
Takeaway: The varied forms, styles, and themes throughout Ramsey’s poetry illuminate the universal nature of loss and sadness.
Great for fans of: Charles Olson, Campbell McGrath.
Production grades
Cover: N/A
Design and typography: A-
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A-

Reminiscent of Hans Christian Andersen's original fairy tales, where children often live and work (and face weird horror) independently, this middle-grade fable manages to confront the very real cruelties and choices children have faced throughout time—such as bullying and whether to conform or stand out—without ever coming across as too grisly. However, while this is a tale and message as old as time, instead of ending on a happy and comfortable note like many modern and contemporary works, Adams closes with a provocative cliffhanger, sending the true but uncomfortable message that you never can know how others might react to your true self, but that it’s urgent to risk it anyway.
This brief but substantial story is heightened by effective and affecting prose (“Mil felt suddenly unclean in the presence of the mask. It was alive.:”) as well as Rohan Daniel Eason's eye-catching, evocative illustrations, often reminiscent in their spareness and line work of classic woodcuts. Adams’s family has done his work proud with this illustrated edition, and Adams deserves posthumous praise for capturing a timeless message with singular power.
Takeaway: Fans of vintage, creepy fairy tales will find more than a moral in this short but moving story.
Great for fans of: Hans Christian Andersen, Sally Gardner’s Tinder.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A

Inspired by the evergreen Luther Vandross ballad “Every Year, Every Christmas,” Lamarr kindles a feeling of holiday warmth with this story of slow, simmering love. Bryant, a gentleman who holds open doors, is attentive to Cassie’s feelings, and the encounter causes her to question her relationship with her fiancé, Malcolm, a charmer who largely ignores her and has cheated in the past. But Cassie still goes through with the wedding, staying away from the café—and Bryant—to devote herself to making her marriage work. Meanwhile, Bryant faithfully spends several Christmas Eves waiting for her in their booth, while his own romantic relationships never quite get off the ground.
Lamarr’s sensitive handling of the sweet, budding intimacy between Bryant and Cassie will engage lovers of gentle grown-up romances, despite the story’s shortage of dramatic events. The abrupt ending, though happy, proves anticlimactic and unceremonious, given the extensive time both characters spend longing for the chance to reunite. Readers who fancy delicate romance and wholesome characters will find this tale of loyalty and love appealing.
Takeaway: A chance encounter turns unforgettable in this sweet slow burn of a holiday romance.
Great for fans of: Teri Wilson’s The Accidental Beauty Queen, Beverly Jenkins.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: B-
After a preface that illustrates the weight and passage of time, an aged Achim finds an old photo album and diary in a cobwebbed attic. Margenau dives into the past, splitting the novel between first-person chapters narrated by Achim, who feels great urgency to share his story as one of the few people left to tell it, and third-person accounts of Liesel, Paul, and Horst. Achim focuses on the war and its impact on himself and the people closest to him: “Almost all those stern, smiling, relaxed people were gone,” he writes, “their stories untold, their eventful lives unrecalled. And so would be my stories, soon.”
From there, Margenau’s work is a warm remembrance of lessons Achim learned from his father (“Once you understand the good and bad things that exist in your world, it is easier to make decisions”), along with the trials, hardships and blessings faced by the others in the tumultuous war years. Whether the focus is on the front lines, the skies, a POW camp, or somewhere back home, War Story offers uplifting testament to the human capacity to carry on when the need is great, no matter how much it hurts.
Takeaway: This warm account of young people in the second World War will please lovers of character-rich historical fiction.
Great for fans of:James Holland’s Twenty One: Coming of Age in the Second World War, Susan Meissner’s The Last Year of the War.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: B+
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A-
Marketing copy: B+
Weaver has targeted this book toward those dealing with addiction as well as their loved ones, with a goal of fostering empathy, and understanding, though much of the focus is on people personally in recovery. Weaver’s advice for facing addiction and getting the most out of recovery is straightforward, often reinforcing aspects of Alcoholics and Narcotics Anonymous' (AA/NA) programs; still, Weaver encourages readers to find what works for them personally, acknowledging that not every program will work for every person.
Weaver’s tone is optimistic yet frank, expressing to the reader that there is hope at any point in addiction and recovery, even in the face of setbacks: “Its patience is phenomenal,” he writes, of addiction. “It customizes a personal relapse plan for each of us.” At times, the manifesto’s reflections stray from practical advice, but overall Weaver, who currently works for a treatment program, offers welcome personal and professional guidance. For those curious about what addicts face or those seeking help in their recovery, Weaver’s words offer comfort and guidance.
Takeaway: This manifesto faces addiction and ongoing recovery with the goal of setting a path of hope.
Great for fans of: Arnold M. Washton’s Willpower’s Not Enough, Gabor Maté’s In the Realm of Hungry Ghosts.
Production grades
Cover: A-
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: B
Editing: B
Marketing copy: A
The result is a challenging but engaging treatise preoccupied with issues of divinity, holy sovereignty, and a covenantal relationship between God and humanity. These topics, for Lavi, are intimately bound: “It is therefore by investigating both the structural origin and aspiration of human consciousness that we may come close to perceiving the existence of a personal God,” Lavi writes, with personal referring to his contention that “God has a relationship with a being according to the unique nature of that being.” From that he concludes that our very capacity to experience awe at the sublime or divine is itself evidence that “our spiritual soul is divine in itself, for that is the entity that directly interacts with or perceives the divine.”
Despite the complexity and thoroughness of Lavi’s nested arguments, a sense of the ecstatic—a sense of the author reveling in the glory of God--pulses throughout the book, even in appendices dedicated to further examining the nature of freedom and consciousness or the relationship between law and holiness. Lavi employs reason to apprehend God, reason that, as the author argues, has the power to “reveal the beauty and goodness of God’s glory.” Believers eager for a heady, philosophical faith, stripped of all cant, will find much here to contemplate.
Takeaway: This impassioned treatise aims to prove God’s existence and humanity's sovereignty through the power of inspired reason.
Great for fans of: Lawrence Keleman’s Permission To Believe: Four Rational Approaches to God's Existence, Brian Davies’s The Reality of God and the Problem of Evil.
Production grades
Cover: A-
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A
The book’s an engaging example of how the journey matters more than the destination: Turns out, Arnold’s true goal was to love and accept herself for who she is. Arnold’s introspection and clarity (she describes her type as the “spiritual businessman”) will inspire even skeptical readers to evaluate their love lives and perhaps even face and accept aspects of themselves, such as a curiosity about polyamory, that they may not have before. Arnold’s frank description and thoughtful reflection on her dozens of dates––from good to bad, from being rejected to having to reject––will make women readers feel heard and understood.
However, Arnold takes a lot of time describing her work with the Human Awareness Institute, putting a lot of stock on what she has learned there, which makes some of this memoir’s accounts of breakthroughs feel promotional––and risks losing readers enticed by the book’s title. In the final pages, Arnold tends to explain rather than dramatize, burdening the narrative with expositional detail. Still, when Arnold tells these stories with brutal honesty––with herself and her readers––Fifty First Dates shines.
Takeaway: Perfect for the poly-curious and their skeptical counterparts, this account of looking for love after fifty offers surprise and discoveries.
Great for fans of: Zoey Leigh Peterson’s Next Year, For Sure, Sophie Lucido Johnson’s Many Love: A Memoir of Polyamour and Finding Love.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: B
- «
- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- 8
- 9
- 10
- 11
- 12
- 13
- 14
- 15
- 16
- 17
- 18
- 19
- 20
- 21
- 22
- 23
- 24
- 25
- 26
- 27
- 28
- 29
- 30
- 31
- 32
- 33
- 34
- 35
- 36
- 37
- 38
- 39
- 40
- 41
- 42
- 43
- 44
- 45
- 46
- 47
- 48
- 49
- 50
- 51
- 52
- 53
- 54
- 55
- 56
- 57
- 58
- 59
- 60
- 61
- 62
- 63
- 64
- 65
- 66
- 67
- 68
- 69
- 70
- 71
- 72
- 73
- 74
- 75
- 76
- 77
- 78
- 79
- 80
- 81
- 82
- 83
- 84
- 85
- 86
- 87
- 88
- 89
- 90
- 91
- 92
- 93
- 94
- 95
- 96
- 97
- 98
- 99
- 100
- 101
- 102
- 103
- 104
- 105
- 106
- 107
- 108
- 109
- 110
- 111
- 112
- 113
- 114
- 115
- 116
- 117
- 118
- 119
- 120
- 121
- 122
- 123
- 124
- 125
- 126
- 127
- 128
- 129
- 130
- 131
- 132
- 133
- 134
- 135
- 136
- 137
- 138
- 139
- 140
- 141
- »