Clayton Byrd Goes Underground

From Publisher's Weekly...

Short List for National Book Award

This slim novel strikes a strong chord. Clayton Byrd revels in playing the blues harp (harmonica) with his grandfather, Cool Papa Byrd, and other blues musicians in New York City’s Washington Square Park, and he longs to play his own solo: “Twelve bars. That was all.” Cool Papa is Clayton’s favorite relative and ally, and his sudden death throws Clayton into an emotional spiral, especially as his mother’s unresolved feelings toward her father cause her to sell off his possessions. Newbery Honor–winner Williams-Garcia (One Crazy Summer) creates a memorable cast and sketches complex, nuanced relationships, especially between Clayton and his mother, contrasting Clayton’s closeness with his grandfather to the complicated absence of Clayton’s own father. Clayton’s grief causes dustups at school and church, and the stakes and tension rise considerably as Clayton meets a band of teenage subway performers, who get him to join their show then steal his grandfather’s treasured hat. It’s a holistic portrait of a family in pain, a realistic portrait of grief and reconciliation, and a reminder that sadness and loss are wrapped up in the blues. Ages 8–12. (May)

Adorable!

I Am Not Your Perfect Mexican Daughter

From Publisher's Weekly...

Short List for National Book Award

Why isn’t 15-year-old Julia Reyes a perfect Mexican daughter in her mother’s eyes? Mostly because of her older sister, Olga, who puts family first, listens to her parents, and dresses conservatively. Julia, by contrast, argues with her mother, talks back at school, and dreams of becoming a famous writer. When Olga dies suddenly, Julia is left wishing that they had been closer and grieving what she sees as Olga’s wasted life. And when she starts to suspect that Olga might not have been so perfect, she follows every clue. Sánchez’s debut novel covers a lot of ground, including Julia’s day-to-day activities in Chicago, her college ambitions, her first boyfriend (who is white and comes from a wealthy neighborhood), her difficult relationship with her overprotective parents, and her search for Olga’s secrets. As the book moves along, Julia’s frustration with the many constraints she lives under—poverty, family expectations, and conditioning that she resents but can’t quite ignore—reaches dangerous levels. Julia is a sympathetic character, but Sánchez’s often expository writing keeps her and her struggles at arm’s length. Ages 14–up. 

Very good!

Artemis

From Publisher's Weekly...

Jazz Bashara, the heroine of this superior near-future thriller from bestseller Weir (The Martian), grew up in Artemis, the moon’s only city, where she dreams of becoming rich. For now, she works as a porter, supplementing her legal income by smuggling contraband. She hopes that her situation can improve drastically after she’s offered an impossible-to-refuse payday by wealthy entrepreneur Trond Landvik, who has used her in the past to get cigars from Earth. Trond asks Jazz to come up with a way to sabotage a competitor so that he can take over the moon’s aluminum industry. She develops an elaborate and clever plan that showcases her resourcefulness and intelligence, even as she continues to have misgivings about her client’s true agenda, suspicions borne out by subsequent complications. The sophisticated worldbuilding incorporates politics and economics, as well as scientifically plausible ways for a small city to function on the lunar surface. The independent, wisecracking lead could easily sustain a series. Weir leavens the hard SF with a healthy dose of humor. 

Excellent!

The Watcher

From Publisher's Weekly...

In this intense psychological drama, Howe (Bunnicula) delves into the minds of three troubled teens whose lives converge at a seaside resort. Twelve-year-old Evan and lifeguard Chris arrive at the beach loaded down with worries. Evan fears that his parents are on the brink of divorce, and Chris cannot shake the feeling he is living in the shadow of his older brother, who died before Chris was born. Then there is Margaret. Nicknamed Harriet the Spy by Evan's younger sister and described as a ""broken shell"" by his mother, the strange, silent girl sits at the edge of the sand inventing stories about the people she observes. Attracted to both Evan and Chris, the ""watcher"" incorporates them into a disturbing fantasy. Segments of her fairy tale about a captive princess are interleaved with scenes depicting the boys' individual struggles. The characters remain separated from one another until the book's riveting final chapter. In a startling turn of events, Evan and Chris become the ""watchers"" of Margaret, witnessing her torment and saving her from her abusive father. A blend of allegory and stark realism, this grim story offers a host of ironies for readers to explore. If the plot comes off as manufactured or melodramatic, the emotions of characters remain genuine and haunting. Ages 12-up. (May)

Odd and intense...some swearing

Far From The Tree

From Publisher's Weekly
National Book Award Finalist

In an equally heartwarming and heart-wrenching story, three siblings separated in infancy find each other as teens. Grace, who has always known she was adopted, first learns of her brother, Joaquin, and sister, Maya, while unsuccessfully searching for her birth mother during a tumultuous junior year. Her open-minded adoptive parents support a reunion, and the siblings’ initial meeting is a success. During subsequent visits, they discover the things they have in common, as well as some painful secrets. Joaquin’s childhood has not been as happy as Grace’s has been, and his deep-rooted fears are affecting his current relationships. Maya’s home life has become chaotic due to fights and alcohol abuse, and Grace knows firsthand how difficult it is to put a baby up for adoption. Writing in a shifting third-person narrative that is both nonjudgmental and deeply empathetic, Benway (Emmy & Oliver) delves into the souls of these characters as they wrestle to overcome feelings of inadequacy, abandonment, and betrayal, gradually coming to understand themselves and each other. Ages 13–up. 

Excellent story!  

What Girls Are Made Of

From Publisher's Weekly...
National Book Award Finalist

According to nursery rhymes, girls are supposed to be made of sugar, spice, and everything nice, but Arnold (Infandous) knows that reality isn’t so pretty or simplistic. Her heroine, 16-year-old Nina, is made of body insecurities, few close friends, a willingness to do whatever it takes to keep her boyfriend, and an unsatisfying sex life in which birth control is her left for her to worry about. It’s not that this depiction rings false (would that it did) but that Arnold lays it out so baldly, and at times so oddly. Obsessed with female saints and their violated bodies, Nina writes short stories, interspersed throughout, that are a kind of Catholic magical realism—a saint is martyred for refusing to marry her father, a girl grows vaginas all over her body. Nina also stews over her mother’s claim that no love is unconditional, letting it drive her actions. In the end, Nina takes responsibility for herself, even things she’s not proud of, but while there’s much that’s laudable in Arnold’s novel, particularly her visceral portrait of girls as bodily creatures, too often the messaging feels forced. Ages 13–up. 

I didn't like it to start, but I liked the ending.  Not for middle school!

Touching Spirit Bear

KIRKUS REVIEW

Troubled teen meets totemic catalyst in Mikaelsen’s (Petey, 1998, etc.) earnest tribute to Native American spirituality. Fifteen-year-old Cole is cocky, embittered, and eaten up by anger at his abusive parents. After repeated skirmishes with the law, he finally faces jail time when he viciously beats a classmate. Cole’s parole officer offers him an alternative—Circle Justice, an innovative justice program based on Native traditions. Sentenced to a year on an uninhabited Arctic island under the supervision of Edwin, a Tlingit elder, Cole provokes an attack from a titanic white “Spirit Bear” while attempting escape. Although permanently crippled by the near-death experience, he is somehow allowed yet another stint on the island. Through Edwin’s patient tutoring, Cole gradually masters his rage, but realizes that he needs to help his former victims to complete his own healing. Mikaelsen paints a realistic portrait of an unlikable young punk, and if Cole’s turnaround is dramatic, it is also convincingly painful and slow. Alas, the rest of the characters are cardboard caricatures: the brutal, drunk father, the compassionate, perceptive parole officer, and the stoic and cryptic Native mentor. Much of the plot stretches credulity, from Cole’s survival to his repeated chances at rehabilitation to his victim being permitted to share his exile. Nonetheless, teens drawn by the brutality of Cole’s adventures, and piqued by Mikaelsen’s rather muscular mysticism, might absorb valuable lessons on anger management and personal responsibility. As melodramatic and well-meaning as the teens it targets. (Fiction. YA)

I found Cole's extreme anger and violence somewhat unbelievable, but I liked the happy ending.