Megan's book list: Reviews for INFO 5421 @megansbooks - Tumblr Blog

Review #15: The Do-Over by Lynn Painter

Category/genre: Young adult romance

Target age group: 14 years and up

Summary: Emilie Hornby is having the worst Valentine’s Day ever, and she’s being forced to relive it over and over again. Can she break free of the time loop and get rid of her cheating boyfriend for good? And why does she keep running into her surly lab partner Nick?

Justification: The Do-Over was featured on the list of 2024 Top 10 Best Fiction for Young Adults created by the Young Adult Library Services Association. I was specifically looking for a young adult romance book that had been featured on this list or similar lists, and this one appealed to me due to the speculative fiction premise (time loop). I love sci-fi and romance with magical realism elements, so this sounded perfect for me.

Evaluation:

The plot of The Do-Over is engaging and fast-paced, and the time loop element drives the story forward without being repetitive or boring. During each loop, Emilie learns something new about her day and the people around her. Like any good Groundhog Day situation, as the loop continues, Emilie gets more and more reckless and acts very unlike her normal uptight self (she even has a “Day of No Consequences,” which she dubs “DONC”). This leads to some very hilarious, chaotic moments as well as moments of emotional growth as Emilie realizes that she can’t control every aspect of her life no matter how much she wants to. Overall, I thought the author used the time loop trope in a way that felt familiar and entertaining without being unoriginal.

Emilie is a dynamic, believable protagonist that experiences a lot of character growth throughout the book. Emilie is a huge people pleaser who never stands up for herself and plans every moment of her life to avoid losing control. I was exactly like this as a teenager, and this type of character feels very relatable to young adults who are high achievers and struggle with letting go. As Emilie repeats the day over and over, she slowly starts to question her highly-structured and unsatisfying life and develops a stronger sense of personal agency. This ties into a larger message of self-acceptance and embracing life’s imperfections, which I think is important for readers of all ages.

Finally, these themes of self-acceptance and imperfection in The Do-Over are presented naturally and authentically without being overly didactic. While the book is classified as a romance and romance is definitely an important element, I was glad to see that romance didn’t “fix” Emilie or overshadow her personal development. The romance develops organically as Emilie becomes more honest and confident in herself, and Nick supports her growth in a really genuine and healthy way. Overall, this book wasn’t life-changing, but I genuinely enjoyed reading it and it made me feel seen.

References

Painter, L. (2022). The do-over. Simon Pulse.

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Review #14: Everything Sad is Untrue: (a true story) by Daniel Nayeri

Category/genre: Young adult fiction (with autobiographical elements), Michael L. Printz Award winner

Target age group: Grades 7-12 (ages 13-18)

Summary: Khosrou (who everyone calls Daniel) tells the story of his family’s treacherous flight from Iran to Oklahoma to his middle school classmates, interwoven with Persian folklore. While technically categorized as fiction, the book consists of autobiographical elements with some names and details changed.

Justification: Everything Sad is Untrue was awarded the Michael L. Printz Award in 2021 for excellence in young adult literature. It has also received numerous other awards and honors such as NPR Best Book of the Year, the Middle East Book Award for Youth Literature, and the Christopher Award for Youth Literature. When looking through Printz award winners from recent years, the cover and summary of this title appealed to me, and I was interested in reading about an autobiographical immigrant experience from a young adult perspective.

Evaluation:

Everything Sad Is Untrue is a unique and powerful book that blends memoir, storytelling, and folklore in a way that stands out from more traditional narratives. The story jumps between past and present rather than following a chronological plot as Daniel shares bits of his life story with his middle school classmates (complete with their interruptions, which give the effect of a Greek chorus). At times, this structure can be a little disorienting, but it’s ultimately effective at showing how Daniel makes sense of his experiences and processes emotions (“a patchwork story is the shame of a refugee,” p. 37). The nonlinear format also adds a lot of texture and depth to the reading experience and keeps the reader engaged while integrating pieces of Daniel’s Iranian identity and culture.

One of the strongest aspects of the book is Daniel’s voice. His narration feels conversational, funny, and honest, which makes even the heaviest of memories feel lighter. He addresses his teacher, Mrs. Miller, and the reader directly throughout, which makes you feel like you’re in the room hearing his stories with the rest of his classmates. Daniel balances his sense of humor with complicated feelings of loss and trying to fit in, which makes his character authentic and relatable. He also reflects a lot on what it means to be a refugee building a life from scratch in an unfamiliar place. I think Daniel feels so real in part because the book is essentially a memoir with a few names and details changed, and that authenticity shines through for the reader.

The themes of identity, belonging, and the power of storytelling are central to the book and are handled in a way that feels natural rather than forced. From the first page, Daniel references 1,001 Nights and refers to himself as Scheherazade, the character who tells a story to the king every night to save herself from execution: “If you listen, If you listen, I’ll tell you a story. We can know and be known to each other, and then we’re not enemies anymore” (Nayeri, 2020, p. 2). This emphasis on the power of stories to connect people, preserve culture, and help people survive is incredibly emotionally impactful for the reader and is something that anyone can relate to. Overall, this book is engaging and accessible and gives readers an important perspective on what it means to be a refugee in America today.

References

Nayeri, D. (2020). Everything sad is untrue: (a true story). Levine Querido.

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Review #13: The Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue by Mackenzi Lee

Category/genre: Historical fiction, audiobook, LGBTQ

Target age group: Grades 7-12 (ages 13-17)

Summary: Henry “Monty” Montague is the son of a British nobleman who isn’t quite ready to grow up – he's been expelled from Eton and spends his days drinking and gallivanting with both men and women. His Grand Tour of Europe is his last chance to spend time with his best friend (and secret crush) Percy before they go their separate ways into adulthood. But a series of poor decisions on Monty’s part leave Monty, Percy, and Monty’s sister Felicity on the run across Europe with noblemen on their tail and a mystery to solve.

Justification: The Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue was a Stonewall Book Award Honor book for Children’s and Young Adult Literature in 2018, which recognizes excellent books about the LGBTQIA+ experience. It was also listed on the 2018 Top Ten Best Fiction list from the Young Adult Library Services Association. While searching for a young adult audiobook to listen to, I saw this title recommended several times on Goodreads and other readers’ advisory sites for its excellent narrator and plot. I’m also a huge fan of LGBTQ fiction and enjoy seeing myself represented in all kinds of books, which drew me to this particular title.

Evaluation:

This book rocked my world and is easily one of my favorite reads of the year so far. I listened to the audiobook version of The Gentleman’s Guide to Vice and Virtue (narrated by Christian Coulson), and the format significantly enhanced my overall reading experience. The narrator captures the voice of main character Monty so well, particularly the juxtaposition between his outward bravado and his fears about the future and himself. Additionally, Coulson adopts subtly different voices and accents for each character while still maintaining Monty’s first person POV and inner monologue. Hearing this book read aloud had me laughing out loud at every funny moment and gasping at every plot twist, which made an already immersive story even more engaging for me. The quality of the audiobook and the narration choices elevated the overall reading experience, and I will definitely be listening to the other two books in the series in the near future.

The characterization of Monty (as well as his sister Felicity and best friend Percy) is one of this book’s greatest strengths. Monty starts out as an impulsive, hedonistic, privileged son of an earl who can’t take anything seriously. When Monty, Felicity, and Percy end up on the run across Europe because of Monty’s actions, he is forced to reckon with his behavior and the privilege that has allowed him to act this way. His character growth is slow and genuine, and the Monty at the end of the book is so much more empathetic and confident in his identity. Percy and Felicity are equally well-developed, with emotional depth and unique identity arcs, and the dynamics between the trio are hilarious and compelling. Additionally, the author’s depiction of marginalized identities is handled with care and respect, and there is a clear emphasis on diversity and inclusion.

Finally, the book’s themes of self-discovery and identity are deeply relatable for the young adult audience without feeling forced or inauthentic. The book also tackles important issues of the time period that persist in modern times such as racism and colorism, homophobia, ableism, and misogyny. The characters’ reaction to these realities of their world is emotionally authentic, especially as Monty tries to determine where (and if) he fits into polite society if he pursues his attraction to men. One theme that I especially appreciated is the nuanced discussion of disability in regards to Percy’s epilepsy. Percy is nearly forced into a sanitarium because his family will no longer care for him, which is the unfortunate reality of being disabled in the 18th century. Despite this, Percy maintains that he can live a happy life without “curing” or trying to fix or change a fundamental part of himself. I think this self-acceptance and view of disability is really powerful, especially for readers who may be grappling with their own disabilities or differences.

References

Lee, M. (2017). The gentleman’s guide to vice and virtue (C. Coulson, Narr.). [Audiobook]. HarperCollins.

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Review #12: The Real Riley Mayes by Rachel Elliott

Category/genre: Graphic novel, LGBT

Target age group: Grades 3-7 (ages 8-12)

Summary: Riley Mayes doesn’t feel like she fits in in the fifth grade. Since her best friend moved away, no one understands her, and she doesn’t have crushes on boys like the other girls do. As the school year continues, Riley embarks on a journey of self-discovery as she learns more about the world and how she fits into it.

Justification: When I was looking for an LGBT book for young readers, I used the Stonewall Book Awards, which recognize excellent books about the LGBT experience in a variety of categories. The Real Riley Mayes received this award in 2023. Out of other books on the list, I chose this one because I liked the simple art style and that the protagonist was younger.

Evaluation:

The art style in The Real Riley Mayes is simple but engaging. Elliott’s art is expressive, colorful, and varied, including the traditional comic panel style while also incorporating more unique formatting such as daydreams and Riley’s own drawings/comics of comedian Joy Powers. The text is also placed on the page in unique ways to create visual interest and control the pacing as you read, with lots of onomatopoeias to give the story sound effects and texture. I especially liked Riley’s colorful, vibrant outfits (such as red cowboy boots, red cargo shorts, and a graphic tee), which really help you understand her better as a character. Overall, the art enhances the text and makes the book immersive and entertaining.

Riley as a character is also deeply likeable and real. Because the text in the graphic novel is first-person POV, you really feel like you’re in Riley’s head experiencing her thoughts and feelings with her. This experience of getting to know her character is also enhanced by her thought bubbles, daydreams, and drawings scribbled over class assignments. Riley goes from feeling ostracized and like she doesn’t fit in with her peers to befriending classmates Cate and Aaron and learning more about herself (with the help of Aaron’s two dads) and her fascination with Joy Powers. Through it all, Riley is hilarious, silly, and sassy. I too was a weird girl who struggled with fitting in, and I definitely wanted to be Riley’s friend while reading this.

Finally, the themes of identity and self-discovery are expressed authentically and appropriately for the age group. This is a book that I would have loved to read as a fifth grader who was questioning my identity, and I think it’s really important to have that representation for all ages, both so children can see themselves represented and familiarize themselves with how others experience the world. The positive impact of queer role models is shown firsthand in the book when Riley meets Aaron’s dads and is able to see for the first time how queer people live normal and happy lives. I also loved how Riley finds the people who “get” her and learns that it’s okay to be your authentic self.

References

Elliott, R. (2022). The real Riley Mayes (R. Elliott, Illus.). HarperAlley.

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Review #11: Red, White, and Whole by Rajani LaRocca

Category/genre: Novel in verse

Target age group: Grades 3-7 (age 8-12)

Summary: Reha feels torn between her Indian heritage and America, the only home she has ever known. She feels like her parents don’t understand her or the American cultural moments she wants to be involved in. When Reha’s mother is diagnosed with acute myeloid leukemia, Reha is determined to be the perfect daughter in the hopes that it will somehow make her mother well again.

Justification: Red, White, and Whole was a Newbery Medal Honor Book in 2021 and has received numerous other awards such as the Walter Dean Myers Award for Young Readers, which recognizes excellent diverse books for children. When looking for lists of recent middle grade novels in verse, this one appealed to me because of its diversity and the fact that it tackles hard topics like a sick parent and grief.

Evaluation:

The author’s choice to present Red, White, and Whole as a novel in verse is highly effective. The main character and narrator, Reha, has a lot of big emotions as she grapples with her Indian American identity and her mother’s illness, and the verse format reads like a stream of consciousness as she lives through fear, grief, and self-reflection. The novel in verse format also lends itself to more poetic language, and the author uses repetition, metaphor, and other figurative language techniques to enhance the text. There is also a heartbreaking letter from Reha’s mother where the format switches to prose for the letter and then back to verse, which makes an already emotional moment even more impactful and jarring. I really enjoyed both novels in verse that I read this semester and how quickly you can fly through the pages while still feeling the depth and weight of the story.

Reha’s characterization as a young teenager struggling with her identity and experiencing emotional hardship feels realistic and authentic. As a second-generation immigrant, she feels constantly torn between the Indian culture she participates in at home and the typical American middle school experience that her parents don’t understand. As her mother’s illness worsens, Reha experiences grief, anxiety, and guilt for still enjoying her life while her mother is suffering. These conflicting emotions make Reha feel especially human and nuanced. By the end of the book, Reha is learning how her two cultural identities can coexist, which is a powerful message for teens thinking about their place in the world.

The themes of grief, illness, and identity in the book are relatable and serious while also being age-appropriate for middle grade readers. Many children this age might have experiences with a sick parent or other family member, and normalizing that experience and the emotions that come with it can be really powerful. I also appreciated the scientific explanations of blood cells, leukemia, and chemotherapy – they were clear and appropriate without being condescendingly dumbed down. It actually helped me understand the processes behind blood cancer a lot better as an adult without a science background. Finally, to further enhance the themes, the author weaves in Reha’s retelling of the Indian myth of Savitri and Satyavan, which is a story of love, death, resilience. This story parallels Reha’s emotional journey and her determination to make her mother well again while also adding elements of her Indian culture to the book. Overall, Red, White, and Whole is emotionally powerful and an engaging read for both children and adults.

References

LaRocca, R. (2021). Red, white, and whole. Quill Tree Books.

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Review #10: Will’s Race for Home by Jewell Parker Rhodes

Category/genre: Historical fiction, Texas Bluebonnet Award winner (2026), Coretta Scott King Book Award winner (2026)

Target Age Group: Grades 3-6 (ages 8-12)

Summary: Twenty-five years after the Emancipation Proclamation, Will and his father set out on a journey from Texas to Oklahoma to participate in a land rush and claim land for the family to live and work on. Along the way, they face dangers such as snakes, thieves, and more.

Justification: We recently received the 2026-2027 Bluebonnet award winners at my library, and the cover of this book caught my eye immediately because of the colors and the imagery of Will riding the horse. When I read the blurb, I was interested in the time period because I feel like there isn’t a lot of historical fiction covering the period after the Civil War ended. This book is also a Coretta Scott King Book Award winner for 2026.

Evaluation:

References:

Rhodes, J. P. (2025). Will’s race for home. Little, Brown Books for Young Readers.

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Review #9: In Utero written and illustrated by Chris Gooch

Category/genre: Young adult, Graphic novel, horror

Target Age Group: Grades 7-12 (ages 13-17)

Summary: In Utero follows 12-year-old Hailey as she attends a holiday camp in an abandoned mall, twelve years after the devastating Stonehill Explosion that the area is still recovering from. Along with an older girl, Jen, Hailey discovers monstrous beings waking up within the mall and is caught in the middle.

Justification: This book was featured on the 2025 YALSA Great Graphic Novels for Teens list, as well as the 2025 Quick Picks for Reluctant Readers list in the Graphic Novel or Illustrated Text section. Out of the books I looked at on the Great Graphic Novels list, this one stood out to me because of the art style and cover as well as it being described as “subterranean horror” and “Annihilation meets Evangelion.” I am a lover of weird sci-fi/horror books, so that seemed right up my alley.

Evaluation:

The illustrations in In Utero are striking, and they do a great job of creating a tense, haunting atmosphere throughout the book. Gooch uses a two-tone art style, only featuring shades of red and blue (and black and white) in his illustrations in order to create depth and maximum contrast. This technique is particularly effective at providing contrast between settings, such as the “blue” of the agents in biohazard suits trying to contain the situation juxtaposed with the haunting “red” expanse of the creature’s inner world. The panels also vary a lot in their composition and perspective, with a variety of full-page spreads, close-ups, and scenery (such as the creepy abandoned mall) to provide visual interest. Toward the climax of the book, the art becomes even more unsettling, visceral, and monstrous, which enhances the horror elements and the story’s emotional impact.

The plot and conflict was not what I expected based on the blurb, and while I enjoyed some of the ambiguity and lack of context, I found myself wanting more development of this world and its lore. Gooch provides very little context for the monstrous beings’ origins/purpose/abilities in the book, which does succeed in making the monster creepier, but ultimately feeling like the story had holes that needed to be filled. There are so many threads that could easily have been expanded into a longer story with more worldbuilding and a fully developed mythology. There were some classic sci-fi/horror bits of dialogue that sucked me in and gave me goosebumps, such as “Doctor, it’s not the ground we’re worried about…It’s what came out of it (Gooch, 2024, pp. 83-84). Overall, the plot is readable and compelling, but it does feel somewhat incomplete.

Finally, there’s not a lot of time or space for character development in this book, but Hailey is portrayed well and her character rings true along with various side characters. Hailey is a typical 12-year-old who wants independence and to be liked and accepted by her peers, which makes her relatable to young adult readers. She is portrayed as smart, nonchalant, and fearless throughout as she ventures into the basement of the abandoned mall, fights monsters, and emerges unscathed. One thing that I found particularly relatable was one of the final scenes, where Hailey is in the hospital glued to her phone while they test her for serious anomalies. I liked that she was “normal” while the story got weirder and weirder around her. Overall, Hailey’s characterization is effective and accessible for the reader.

References:

Gooch, C. (2024). In utero (C. Gooch, Illus.). Top Shelf Productions.

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Review #8: Honeybee: The Busy Life of Apis Mellifera written by Candace Fleming and illustrated by Eric Rohmann

Category/genre: Children’s picture book, informational/nonfiction

Target Age Group: 4-8 years

Summary: Honeybee follows the life cycle of a single honeybee from birth to death, nicknamed “Apis” based on the scientific name “Apis mellifera.” The book has detailed oil painting illustrations and poetic text that’s factual and informative.

Justification: Honeybee was awarded the 2021 Robert F. Sibert Informational Book Medal, which recognizes distinguished informational books for children each year. It was also a 2021-2022 Texas Bluebonnet Award winner and an NCTE Orbus Pictus Honor Book. When I was looking through the list of Sibert Medal winners from the past 10 years, Honeybee stuck out to me because of the detailed photorealistic illustration on the cover (which I thought was an actual photo until I looked closer).

Evaluation:

The text in Honeybee, written by Candace Fleming, is lyrical and accessible while still being informative. Fleming uses a verse format along with figurative language such as imagery, repetition, and alliteration to tell an engaging story about the life of “Apis” the worker bee. The repetition of “Flying? Not yet…” creates a sense of pacing and rhythm that culminates in Apis finally leaving the nest and flying to pollinate and collect nectar for the hive. At the end of Apis’ short life, “she has collected enough nectar to make/one-twelfth of a teaspoon of honey,” which is a striking detail that makes the reader think about the scale and effort of a single bee compared to the combined work of the whole hive. I think that creating narratives and stories out of science and nature (and assigning a name to a worker bee) is a great way to show children that nonfiction can be factual/informative without being boring or dry. Personifying the bees also makes the reader empathize with the plight of the honeybee, which Fleming talks about in a short essay on how we can protect honeybees at the end of the book.

The illustrations in this book by Eric Rohmann are gorgeously detailed (and honestly, if you don’t like insects, kind of creepy) and add life and realism to Fleming’s text. You can see the individual hairs on the bee’s legs and the details of the antennae and wings. When Apis is growing and completing her tasks inside the hive, the colors are deep, dark oranges, yellows, and browns, which contrasts with the brightness of the outside world when Apis is finally able to fly. The spreads of blues, greens, and pastel flowers as the bees gather pollen and nectar in the outside world are striking. The illustrations also come full circle and complete the life cycle as a new bee is born in the same way Apis was born on the first page. Overall, the illustrations help add informative context to the text and are detailed enough to act almost as scientific diagrams of honeybee anatomy and behavior for the reader.

I read this book as an ebook on Libby, which impacted my experience of this book in a few ways. First of all, reading a picture book as an ebook changes the rhythm of turning the page. It’s not as dramatic to press a button and instantly go to the next spread, and there’s less of that sense of a natural pause while you take the time to turn the page. However, it was nice to see the illustrated spreads/scenes in all their glory without the spine creating an interruption in the middle of the page, and the colors still felt vivid and bright. Additionally, Libby’s accessibility features allow you to zoom in on text and illustrations and adjust the lighting of the page if needed, so I was able to zoom in super far and see all the tiny details of Rohmann’s illustrations. I read the ebook on a laptop, so the text and images still felt large enough to see and capture my attention, but I don’t think this book would be as effective on a smaller screen such as a phone or tablet. Overall, I liked the digital format, but I would be interested to compare it to a physical copy of the book and see if the illustrations and colors translate well.

References: Fleming, C. (2020). Honeybee: The busy life of apis mellifera (E. Rohmann, Illus.). Neal Porter Books.

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Review #7: More Than Words: So Many Ways to Say What We Mean written and illustrated by Roz MacLean

Category/genre: Children’s picture book, Disability/differences

Target Age Group: Ages 4-8

Summary: Nathan doesn’t say much, but he still has a lot to share. This book explores different methods of communication such as talking, writing in text or Braille, signing, singing, and more.

Justification: I see this book often at the public library where I work, and the vibrant colors on the cover drew me to investigate it further. This book was a CBC Kids Reads Competition finalist and a Bank Street Best Books of the Year Selection with outstanding merit. It also has received positive reviews from reputable publications such as Kirkus Reviews and School Library Journal, who praise the book’s inclusivity and the additional informative materials included at the back of the book.

Evaluation:

The illustrations in this book are vibrant, colorful, and help deepen and reinforce the book’s overall message of inclusion. Rather than just describing different types of communication, the author integrates them directly into the illustrations through speech bubbles, creative placement of text, and scenes where the environment shifts to form words (such as communication through movement, which is shown by leaves that spell the word “MOVE” on the page). The varied format as well as the vibrant, sweeping use of color also helps provide a sense of movement and excitement to the story. This would be a great book to read aloud because of the pacing and the combination of detailed scenes with more visually simple pages. Finally, the illustrations clearly and accurately depict children from a variety of cultures, backgrounds, and abilities, showing that the inclusive message of the book isn’t just surface level.

The style and language of the book’s text is simple but effective and works along with the illustrations to create an engaging reading experience. One detail that I enjoyed was that each communication method has a child’s name attached to it: Madeline uses facial expressions, Carlos writes with Braille, McKenna types, Fatima and Mateo use sign language, Talia expresses herself through play, etc. This narrative choice makes the message of accepting differences feel more real and personal for the reader. McKenna or Talia or Mateo could easily be the reader’s classmate with similar communication struggles or needs. Additionally, the book also uses figurative language like repetition and onomatopoeia to enhance the text and drive the story forward.

The themes of inclusion and diverse communication are presented well without feeling overly didactic and forced. The author emphasizes that communication is so much more than words, and can include things like dancing, building, painting, and other forms of verbal and nonverbal expression. MacLean also includes additional materials at the back of the book that go into more depth about Augmentative and Alternative Communication (AAC) methods and ways to help everyone understand and be understood by others. I appreciate that she emphasizes the validity of all communication styles and methods of expressing oneself. This is an important lesson for people of all ages, and this book would be a great first introduction for children to concepts such as Braille, AAC picture boards, text-to-speech technology, and other basic tenets of accessibility and disability. It would be a great companion read with something like All the Way to the Top, which tells the true story of Jennifer Keelan-Chaffin’s crawl up the US Capitol steps to advocate for disability rights and provides historical context for the inclusive communication methods and accessibility introduced in this book.

References:

MacLean, R. (2023). More than words: So many ways to say what we mean (R. MacLean, Illus.). Henry Holt and Co. (BYR).

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Review #6: Alone by Megan E. Freeman

Category/genre: Science fiction, Novel in verse

Target Age Group: Grades 5-9 (classifying this as YA because of themes/reviews even though it's kind of in the middle)

Summary: Twelve-year-old Maddie thinks she’s just going to have a secret sleepover at her grandparents’ empty apartment and go home the next morning without her parents finding out. When she wakes up, however, the whole town has been evacuated and abandoned. With no power or working phones and no idea how to find her family, Maddie must survive on her own with only a rottweiler named George for company.

Justification: This book was featured on the Young Adult Library Services Association’s (YALSA) 2022 list of Quick Picks for Reluctant Young Adult Readers and was also featured on the National Council of Teachers of English’s (NCTE) 2022 list of Notable Verse Novels, both of which are credible organizations for recognizing quality children’s/YA books. Out of the novels in verse I looked at, this one stood out to me because of its plot and themes. The blurb from the publisher compares it to Hatchet and the I Survived series, both of which I read and loved as a kid. I always found survival stories so compelling, and to this day I’m an avid reader of apocalypse fiction. I wanted to see what a modern successor of Hatchet might look like as well as how this topic would translate to a novel in verse.

Evaluation:

This novel is written in free verse, with short, punchy “chapters” or poems divided into seven longer sections. I think the free verse format (as well as the formatting choices made within the free verse) adds a lot to this novel narratively and to the overall experience of reading the text. Because each section and the lines within are so short, the novel feels accessible and readable for children and adults alike. The free verse format also allows the author to play with pacing – lines can be drawn out or chopped up to create tension or emphasize strong emotions. One striking example of this is when Maddie first wakes up and realizes she’s been left behind. Her reaction (a panicked “What is happening?”) is shown in all caps and spread out across the page with each letter receiving its own line, creating visual interest and building suspense for the reader (Freeman, 2021, p. 62). Additionally, the free verse and first-person point of view puts the reader directly into Maddie’s thoughts so you can experience the struggle to survive alongside her. Overall, the verse format and use of figurative language such as repetition and simile makes the book enjoyable and exciting to read, especially for reluctant readers who might find this method of storytelling less intimidating than a block of solid prose.

The plot of the book is compelling and (mostly) believable, with just enough of a speculative fiction element to keep the reader guessing throughout. From the first page, it’s implied that some unknown threat has been building for a while, with Maddie mentioning that her mom always has the news on and the government has been imposing curfews and checkpoints. However, the exact reason for the evacuation is never defined, with the government only saying that an “imminent threat” has resulted in a state of emergency (Freeman, 2021, p. 66). The mystery of what the “imminent threat” could be haunts both Maddie and the reader and effectively builds narrative tension throughout the book. How can you prepare for or survive something if you’re not sure what it is?

Finally, this book explores themes of human connection, isolation, and survival in a way that’s age-appropriate without being didactic or condescending. Maddie’s fear and loneliness feels very real, and she’s forced to get creative throughout the book to provide for herself and overcome obstacles like natural disasters and wild animals. Additionally, the portrayal of having to survive without access to the internet adds another layer of isolation for the reader. For obvious reasons, I loved that the book emphasized the importance of public libraries and information access – especially because children growing up in the 2020s have never lived in a world where information was scarce or unavailable. Maddie relies on the library for practical information (on camping, starting fires, first aid), but she also uses it for entertainment and to escape into other worlds, looking for the human connection that she can’t find around her.

References:

Freeman, M. E. (2021). Alone. Aladdin.

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Review #5: The Coquíes Still Sing: A Story of Home, Hope, and Rebuilding written by Karina Nicole González and illustrated by Krystal Quiles

Category/genre: Pura Belpré Honor Book (Children’s Author and Youth Illustrator, 2023)

Target age group: Ages 4-8

Summary: The Coquíes Still Sing follows a young girl, Elena, and her family in Puerto Rico as they survive a devastating hurricane and start the process of rebuilding their home alongside their community.

Justification: This book was named a 2023 Pura Belpré Honor Book for Children’s Text and Children’s Illustration. This award honors outstanding Latino/a writers and illustrators.

Evaluation:

The illustrations in The Coquíes Still Sing are vibrant, colorful, and textured, highlighting the natural beauty of Puerto Rico before and after the devastation of Hurricane Maria. Color, such as the bright oranges and greens of Abuela’s mango tree, is used to set the scene before the illustrations shift to a darker color palette during the storm. One particularly compelling spread shows the storm beating down on the family home on the left page and contrasts it with the warm yellow light of a candle on the right page, where Elena’s father is reassuring her that everything will be okay. The colors after the storm are more muted, but gradually regain their vibrancy as the residents rebuild. Additionally, the art style is detailed enough to show the shifting emotions of the characters in their facial expressions, from joy to fear to hope.

In the text, González uses repetition and musical language to engage the reader. The plot centers around the coquí frog and its musical chants, along with a song that Elena sings back to them: “Co-quí, co-quí. Oh, how I love thee” (González, 2022). The sound of the coquíes creates a rhythm while reading, and the song is a comfort to Elena during the storm and the rebuilding process. When the coquíes finally return at the end of the book, Elena feels at home again, “even though home has forever changed” (González, 2022). The frogs have endured this hardship and come out the other side, and Elena and her family have done the same.

The themes of resilience and communities sticking together in the face of adversity are communicated clearly and naturally throughout the book without feeling tacked onto the story or overly didactic. The author’s and illustrator’s notes at the end show that this story and its themes are personal, which adds to the authenticity of Elena’s emotional experiences. I also appreciated that the book showed the complicated emotional aspects of rebuilding such as mourning friends who have moved away and realizing that your loved ones won’t be around forever. You can be hopeful for the future while still grieving the past that was taken away from you, which is a powerful message for children who have experienced hardship.

References:

González, K. N. (2022). The coquíes still sing: A story of home, hope, and rebuilding (K. Quiles, Illus.). Roaring Brook Press.

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Review #4: Unspeakable: The Tulsa Race Massacre written by Carole Boston Weatherford and illustrated by Floyd Cooper

Category/genre: Picture book, junior nonfiction, Coretta Scott King award winner (2022)

Target age group: Grades 3 to 6

Summary: Unspeakable describes the racial violence that took place in the Greenwood district of Tulsa, Oklahoma in 1921, when an armed white mob killed hundreds of Black Tulsa residents, injured thousands, and burned homes and businesses to the ground. Unspeakable introduces this tragedy to children in verse with vivid and moving illustrations.

Justification: This book received the 2022 Coretta Scott King Award in both the author and illustrator categories, which recognizes excellence in African American authors and illustrators of books for children and young adults.

Evaluation:

The text by Carole Boston Weatherford is in unrhymed verse and effectively delivers historical information in a way that’s both engaging and easy to understand. The book starts with the classic fairy-tale phrase “Once upon a time,” and the repetition of this phrase throughout the book is a powerful reminder that the Tulsa race massacre was erased by the historical narrative and not investigated for 75 years. Weatherford also describes Greenwood pre-massacre in riveting detail, listing the businesses, the libraries, the Black-owned newspapers, and even mentioning several residents by name (such as Miss Mabel and Dr. A.C. Jackson). Establishing Greenwood so clearly makes the later description of the massacre and injustice that followed even more powerful and deepens the reader’s understanding of historical events.

Floyd Cooper’s illustrations complement the text and convey the seriousness of the topic without being overly graphic. The illustrations are detailed, vibrant, and humanizing, and the portraits of Greenwood residents experiencing joy, sorrow, and fear make the historical event feel very real and present. Cooper also does a great job of contrasting Greenwood before the massacre (thriving, bright and warm colors, depiction of families) with the tragedy that followed (darker colors, somber facial expressions). Overall, the illustrations in Unspeakable are a powerful addition to the story and help the reader understand the emotion and consequences of the Tulsa race massacre.

Finally, the theme of the book and its enduring message is important for readers of all ages. While the story is undeniably tragic, the book ends with the reminder to “reject hatred and violence and to instead choose hope,” shifting the focus to the future and what we can do to remember the past and prevent something like this from happening again (Weatherford, 2021). The theme isn’t overly preachy or didactic, and the story as well as the author’s and illustrator’s notes (which provide additional historical and personal context) aren’t dumbed down or condescending to the reader. This is how history should be presented to children – directly, in an age-appropriate way without sanitizing historical events.

References: Weatherford, C. B. (2021). Unspeakable: The Tulsa race massacre (F. Cooper, Illus.). Carolrhoda Books.

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Review #3: Hello Lighthouse written and illustrated by Sophie Blackall

Category/genre: Children’s picture book, Calecott Medal winner (2019)

Target age group: Ages 4-8

Summary: Hello Lighthouse follows a lighthouse keeper through the years as he tends to his lighthouse, records events in his logbook, and celebrates life’s milestones by starting a family of his own.

Justification: This book received the Caldecott Medal in 2019, which recognizes excellent art in children’s picture books each year.

Evaluation:

I read this book in its physical picture book format, which definitely enhanced my reading experience. The book is oversized and taller/skinnier than a standard-sized picture book, which gives the recurring image of the lighthouse room to spread out on the pages. The larger canvas also allows the reader to see the details in the illustrations more clearly, such as in the spread with the cutaway illustration showing the rooms on each level of the lighthouse and the lighthouse keeper going about his duties. Additionally, since the illustrations are done in Chinese ink and watercolors, the physical book shows the muted colors more clearly than a digital format. Finally, reading a picture book in a physical format allows the reader to build momentum and rhythm as they turn the pages, especially in a book like this one with relatively few words. This physical reading experience also highlights the passage of time and changing of the seasons for the lighthouse keeper and his family.

The illustrations themselves are detailed and evocative. Blackall makes great use of shapes, using circles to show different vignettes of life in the lighthouse – writing in the logbook, eating dinner, the lighthouse keeper’s wife having her baby, the lighthouse lantern itself burning constantly, etc. The colors go back and forth from light and happy to darker and more intense (like during storms), which also contributes to the sense of time passing. This also creates a sense of contrast that keeps the reader wanting to turn to the next page to see what life in the lighthouse will bring next.

Outside of the visual aspects, Blackall also uses figurative language and repetition to effectively maintain a rhythmic sense of time passing, with the lighthouse remaining steady throughout. “Hello! … Hello! … Hello!” echoes throughout the book, spoken by the lighthouse keeper, the wind, the storm, and the sea in turn. The final “Hello” is followed by a question mark as the lighthouse keeper and his family leave the island, which leaves a powerful final image of the now-automated lighthouse all on its own.

References:

Blackall, S. (2018). Hello lighthouse (S. Blackall, Illus.). Little, Brown Books for Young Readers.

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Review #2: A Plate of Hope: The Inspiring Story of José Andrés and World Central Kitchen written by Erin Frankel and illustrated by Paola Escobar

Category/genre: Children’s picture book, biography, Bluebonnet award winner (2025-26)

Target age group: Preschool to 3rd grade (ages 4-8)

Summary: A Plate of Hope tells the story of celebrity chef José Andrés and his nonprofit organization World Central Kitchen through engaging illustrations and lyrical storytelling. World Central Kitchen provides food relief in areas experiencing natural disasters, pandemics, and war.

Justification: This book is featured on the 2025-2026 Bluebonnet Award list.

Evaluation:

The style and language of A Plate of Hope is poetic and engaging, and in combination with the illustrations it tells José Andrés’ life story in a way that’s appealing to readers of all ages. The book is bilingual and weaves Spanish words and phrases into the narrative without providing direct translations (though the meaning can be derived from context and the illustrations), which is an effective way of demonstrating José’s cultural background. The book starts with the phrase “No es solo el arroz” (“It’s not just rice”) and repeats this phrasing (“No es solo” or “No era solo”) throughout the book in different contexts. This repetition gives the book a rhythmic feel, especially when read aloud, and it also emphasizes the overall theme that no action is too small and every person can make a difference. The final page’s text is an almost exact copy of the first page, this time with an older José who has created his own community through food and helping others, which is a really powerful final image for the reader.

The illustrations are detailed, vibrant, and action-focused in a way that complements the text and drives the story forward while reading. Food features prominently in the narrative, from José’s childhood in Spain to his restaurants in America to the areas served by World Central Kitchen, and the food is illustrated with bright, warm colors to demonstrate food as an act of love and service. The scenes of active cooking are dynamic and full of tiny details for the reader to observe alongside the words. Overall, the illustrations add visual interest to the poetic biographical text and increase the emotional impact of the book.

Finally, the setting is developed through the combination of the text and illustrations, giving the book a strong sense of place as it shows José’s travels around the world. Each setting, from Spain to America to Haiti to Puerto Rico, is rich with detail and color and shows off unique geographical and cultural features. The illustrations show differences in architecture, clothing, greenery, and the text describes different cultural dishes from each place. All of these small details come together to create immersive settings that are distinct but also brought together by food.

References:

Frankel, E. (2024). A plate of hope: The inspiring story of José Andrés and World Central Kitchen (P. Escobar, Illus.). Random House Studio.

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Review #1: I Hate Everything! written and illustrated by Sophy Henn

Category/genre: Children’s picture book, Texas 2x2 (2026)

Target age group: Preschool to 3rd grade (ages 4-8)

Summary: A ghost decides he hates everything. His ghost friend helps him realize all the things he actually loves, like dressing up, sweets, butterflies, and more.

Justification: This book is one of the Texas 2x2 picks for 2026, which selects quality books for young readers from age 2 to second grade. Out of the 2x2 books for this year, this one stuck out to me because of its illustration style and bright colors.

Evaluation:

The theme of this book focuses on big emotions, particularly anger, and how you can regulate those emotions with the help of others. I think the message is effective without being overly didactic or condescending, and the book shows anger as a natural part of life rather than something that needs to be corrected or shamed. The ghost’s friend recognizes the protagonist’s emotions and lets him feel his feelings while also gently asking questions to help the protagonist understand and work through his anger. Overall, the book does a good job of teaching a lesson and offering takeaways while also not prioritizing the lesson over the story or forcing it.

Additionally, while we know very little about the protagonist ghost (he has no name or other background information), his characterization still manages to be compelling and relatable for the reader. Everyone has experienced the “I hate everything” feeling and the emotional rollercoaster that comes along with feeling frustrated and upset, especially as a kid when every emotion feels so big. Because the ghost has no name or background story, it’s easy for the reader to reflect their own emotional experiences on him. Overall, like the illustrations and text, the characters are simple but effective.

The illustrations in I Hate Everything! are simple stylistically, showing just the two ghosts and their shadows with few background details, but they use exaggerated facial expressions and bright, bold colors to effectively show the ghost protagonist’s shifting emotions throughout the book. Because the text is so minimal, the illustrations carry a lot of weight and help move the story along through visual cues such as raised eyebrows and changes in eye and mouth shape. The use of background colors rather than a more detailed background also demonstrates the ghost’s emotions (shifting from red to indicate anger toward green/yellow as the anger fades). This is especially effective for younger readers who are learning emotional regulation and how to identify different emotions.

References:

Henn, S. (2025). I hate everything! (S. Henn, Illus.). Beach Lane Books.

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