by booksoverlookedblog

April Book Recs: Let There (Not) Be Light

At a restaurant, a sommelier might recommend the perfect red wine to go with your steak. I aspire to be a book sommelier who finds nonfiction and fiction that complement each other, bringing out the best flavors in each text to enhance your reading experience. For April, I would like to offer two books that pair well together for a little bit of “light” reading.

Nonfiction

The End of Night: Searching for Natural Darkness in the Age of Artificial Light by Paul Bogard

Have you ever seen the Milky Way with your naked eye? When was the last time you saw a truly starry sky? Earth is brighter than ever, but does that mean that it’s better for its residents? Starting with the brightest light on the planet – The Luxor Sky Beam in Las Vegas –  and ending with the darkest skies in the United States, Bogard examines the multitude of ways that widespread artificial lighting has changed our world. He interviews engineers, astronomers, ecologists, third-shift workers, and even clergy members about what the loss of darkness means for humans and the natural world. Starlight is not the only thing we risk losing when dark skies disappear: Bogard also investigates the health and safety risks associated with artificial lighting, and the disconnect between ourselves and nature. This is a thought-provoking book that will make you see your world – both in day and night – a little differently. 

Fiction

The City of Ember by Jeanne DuPrau

Twelve-year-olds Lina and Doon have lived in the city of Ember their entire lives, where nothing is more important than light. Without the electric lights, the city would be in complete darkness all the time. With no known way to make portable light, blackouts are frightening for all the city’s residents. When Assignment Day arrives, Lina is disappointed that she’s been assigned to be a laborer at the Pipeworks. Much to her surprise, Doon trades assignments with her. Now Lina can spend her days running through Ember as a messenger, while Doon descends into the bowels of the city. With blackouts increasing at an alarming rate, Doon knows that something is wrong in Ember. If he can get close to the generator that powers the city, maybe he can learn why the blackouts are happening. Meanwhile, Lina discovers a two-hundred-year-old message from the founders of the city. Parts of it have been destroyed, but whatever it contains could be the key to saving Ember. She and Doon must work together to discover the forgotten secrets of Ember, and maybe even bring its citizens into the light. 

by booksoverlookedblog

Banned Book: Prince and Knight

Without in any way limiting the author’s exclusive rights under copyright, any use of this publication to “train” generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models.

Think of your favorite fairy tale. Were there talking animals? A handsome prince falling in love with a beautiful princess? Did it teach a lesson? 

When we’re very young, fairy tales and fables are usually our first introduction to stories. We learn a lot about narrative structure from these old tales. We learn that stories have a beginning, a middle, and an end. Stories have characters and conflicts. We even learn some basic symbolism: a cottage represents safety and home, the woods represent danger, and a castle represents success. A beautiful person is good, and an ugly person is evil. These simple, familiar stories set the foundation for our understanding of narratives long before we have the ability to read one on our own. 

There are many things in traditional stories that aren’t viewed as fondly today as they once were, like beauty equating to goodness and women as prizes. There are lots of retellings of classic stories now, which often change turn the formerly helpless maiden into a certified bad-ass. Heck, the best-selling Twisted Tale series are just Disney AUs based on their popular movies.

I didn’t write my earlier post about traditional literature just because it’s one of my favorite genres (though that is true), but because I want to discuss the oft-challenged picture book, Prince and Knight, but Daniel Haack and Stevie Lewis.

Well, let’s look at this dangerous book together. I love the illustrations – bright and colorful, and perfect for a picture book. The story is also told in rhyme, which I enjoyed. Sometimes rhyming picture books can be clunky or choose awkward words to make the rhyme work, but I didn’t see any of that here. Overall, it’s nice to look at and fun to read out loud.

Prince and Knight repeats familiar fairy tale beats: a prince goes on a journey, overcomes a challenge, and is rewarded with true love. The main difference between this and stories like Sleeping Beauty is that the prince’s true love is another man. 

The story goes like this: a prince is getting ready to inherit the kingdom, but the king and queen know that it’s too much work to rule alone. They want their son to find a nice girl and get married. He meets many lovely ladies, but he doesn’t want to marry any of them. When a dragon attacks, the prince races to save the kingdom. He’s not fighting alone, either. A bold knight rushes into the battle to assist the king. They save each other’s lives, and together, capture the beast. Soon, the prince realizes that his one true love, the one he’s been searching for, is this brave knight in shining armor. The prince and the knight are married, the kingdom rejoices, and everyone lives happily ever after.

I loved Prince & Knight. There’s action, but not violence (the prince and knight tie up the dragon rather than slay it), and it has an adorable happily ever after. My favorite thing about the book might be the king and queen’s reaction to the prince falling in love with another man. They’re ecstatic that he’s found someone and don’t care that it’s not a princess, and the whole kingdom celebrates their wedding. 

Cute, right?

Unfortunately, not everyone thought so. According to the ALA Prince and Knight was one of the most frequently banned or challenged books in 2019 for “featuring a gay marriage and LGBTQIA+ content; for being ‘a deliberate attempt to indoctrinate young children’ with the potential to cause confusion, curiosity, and gender dysphoria; and for conflicting with a religious viewpoint”

Siiiigh. Let’s break this down.

Prince and Knight was published in 2018, three years after same-sex marriage became legal throughout the United States. According to Pew Research Center, a majority Americans support same-sex marriage and it’s part of the cultural landscape, whether you think it should be or not.

“Confusion” and “curiosity” are natural parts of childhood. Young kids are learning about the world and, no matter what book you read to a young child, they’re going to have questions. For an example from my own life, I was in fourth grade when I two older students – who were also my neighbors – told me that our principal was a lesbian. I’d never even heard the word “lesbian” before, and it had to be explained to me: girls who love girls. I became worried, and asked, “am I a lesbian because I love my mom?” The older girls told me that girl family members didn’t count. Later, my neighbor’s mother called my house to warn my mom that I might be asking some questions about what I’d learned that day. But I can’t remember asking any other questions about it, or even it being that big of a deal in the long run. If a child has a question about the gay marriage in the book, “Some boys fall in love with other boys” isn’t indoctrination, it’s just a true statement. And it’s not going to be as earth-shattering as you think. And while we’re not totally certain what causes gender dysphoria, you don’t get it from reading a picture book.

As far as a religious viewpoint goes…I’m pretty sure we can guess which religion the complainants are talking about. Some religious communities, like the Buddhist Churches of America and some Jewish movements have celebrated or supported same-sex marriage for decades, and many sects of Christianity do so as well now. Even the Catholic church is slooooowly becoming more accepting of same-sex couples. So this book isn’t against all religious viewpoints, just a certain one. 

At the start of this post, I talked about the role fairy tales play in our formative years. So I have a question: why is Prince and Knight indoctrination, but a story like “Sleeping Beauty” isn’t? Classic Western fairy tales are often about finding true love through magical means. The prince magically awakens a sleeping princess with a kiss; a princess kisses a frog and finds her true love; a glass slipper fits only one woman perfectly. So many stories treat the princess as a prize to be won. I would say reading only fairy tales like that introduce kids to harmful stereotypes of gender. So why aren’t tales of heterosexual love accused of indoctrinating kids? 

I love fairy tales, old and new. I am aware of the pitfalls in classic traditional stories, and I enjoy adaptations that change things up. I still think fairy tales and other traditional stories and rhymes are an important part of early literacy. But there’s a phrase I heard once that’s always stuck with me: “It’s not what you have, it’s what you don’t have.” This sums up how I feel about a lot of media diets. If you get nothing but stories with a narrow view of what the world is like, it’s going to affect how you see the world. I don’t see anything inherently wrong with traditional stories, but I think it’s important for children to see stories where the princess saves the prince, where the ugly person is kind, and where the prince and the knight find true love. 

Because in real life, girls can save boys, not-beautiful people can be kind, and two men can fall in love and marry each other. To pretend otherwise is insulting to all of those who don’t live in a fairytale.

by booksoverlookedblog

March Book Recs: The Troubles

March is Women’s History Month, and it’s also Irish Heritage Month! I’ve decided to combine both of those things for this list. Media often show stereotypical depictions of the Irish, flattening an entire culture into a few jokes about alcoholism and leprechauns. Like millions of Americans, I have Irish heritage, and these depictions have always irked me. 

One part of Irish history that has long been close to my heart is The Troubles. The Troubles were 30 year period of political and sectarian violence between Unionists and loyalists (mostly Ulster Protestants) who wanted Northern Ireland to remain part of the U.K., and Irish nationalists and republicans (mostly Irish Catholic) who wanted Northern Ireland to join the Republic of Ireland. The Troubles officially came to an end with the 1998 Good Friday Agreement, which ended much of the violence in Northern Ireland. But my personal connection with The Troubles isn’t just from my Irish-Catholic heritage or watching the show Derry Girls. In the early 2000s, my family hosted a girl from Derry for three summers. Those were the best summer vacations I’d ever have. My mom described them as “a six-week sleepover.” While our guest did talk about some of the violence she and her family experienced, my memories of her and our summers together are full of laughter, dares, and the filthiest jokes I’d ever heard. 

For the March recommendation list, I’ve chosen two books where The Troubles play a central role in the lives of women. These are both great as audiobooks. Other than the readers’ lovely Irish accents, you’ll also be able to hear the correct pronunciation of Irish words.

Nonfiction

Thin Places: A Natural History of Healing and Home by Kerri ní Dochartaigh

Kerri ní Dochartaigh was born in Derry halfway through The Troubles to a Protestant father and Catholic mother. She lost two homes in the span of one year, once due to a petrol bomb, and once due to harassment. To escape the violence in Derry, she found solace in the natural world, in her cement-filled backyard and “thin places” where the Veil between this world and the spiritual one is thin. ní Dochartaigh’s memoir is one of great sadness as she writes about the emotional scars that have shaped her entire life. Yet there is great beauty to be found in it as well, as she tenderly writes about her beloved thin places, the endangered Irish language, the resiliency of moths, and what it means to be an Irish woman. She also discusses violence in Northern Ireland following Brexit, and what she fears and hopes for Derry, the city she loves and hates. Often heartbreaking, Thin Places is a gorgeously written meditation on loss, trauma, and healing. 

Fiction

Factory Girls by Michelle Gallen

It’s 1994, and smart-mouthed Maeve cannot wait to get out of her small town in Northern Ireland and start studying journalism in London. She and her friends Caroline and Aoife must first get their exam results to confirm their places in their chosen universities. To save up for their futures, the three young women get jobs in the local shirt factory for the summer. The job brings new challenges Maeve has never faced before: ironing 100 shirts a day, working alongside Protestants for the first time, and avoiding the advances of the factory’s lecherous English owner, Andy Strawbridge. Tensions rise between the Catholic and Protestant workers whenever there’s a bombing or murder, which occurs all too frequently. As the summer goes on, Maeve starts to realize that there is something going on behind the scenes at the factory, but standing up for herself and her friends could cost her dearly. Flashbacks show Maeve’s experiences growing up during The Troubles, including the death of her elder sister and bombings that were called “lucky” because everyone survived. As a slice-of-life novel, the plot can feel thin at times. However, Maeve’s narration and snappy dialogue is laugh-out-loud funny, and watching her and her friends find their path to adulthood is satisfying. Though the main characters are teenagers, frequent sexual references make this a book better suited to an adult audience.

by booksoverlookedblog

Once Upon a Time: Traditional Literature

Without in any way limiting the author’s exclusive rights under copyright, any use of this publication to “train” generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models.

Apologies for missing last week’s post; I was ill. 

I want to take a break from our regularly-scheduled book rants to talk a bit about traditional literature. The term“traditional literature” might conjure up images of stodgy old books with nigh-unreadable prose for the modern reader. But you might be surprised to learn that you’ve probably been reading traditional literature since you were a kid! Traditional literature encompasses stories and poems that have been passed down from generation to generation, such as myths, fairy tales, and nursery rhymes. 

Traditional stories rely on patterns, motifs, symbols, and tropes. These stories were passed down orally long before they were ever written down, and using those storytelling devices helped both the teller and the listener to remember the story. Familiar patterns also helped listeners participate in stories by providing clues about what will happen next. We still use many of these today, opening with “once upon a time” and ending with “and they lived happily ever after.” 

Folk traditions in storytelling are both unique and universal. Many folklore stories from across the world share the same tropes, but use the story teller’s culture as a backdrop for the tale. Compare “The Rough-Faced Girl,” “Mufaro’s Beautiful Daughters,” and “The Irish Cinder Lad.” They’re all versions of the French Cinderella story, but come from the Algonquin Nation, Zimbabwe, and Ireland, respectively. 

Settings tend to be used again and again, with reliable associations. In the Anglo-European tradition, many stories start in a cottage, where simple, everyday folk live. A castle is where some aspire to be, and reaching it symbolizes success. The forest is dark, where mysterious creatures live and dangerous and unpredictable things happen. The road is where characters encounter new people and influences. This is a place where change occurs. 

Characterization relies heavily on archetypes. Each character plays a clear role: hero, villain, helper, trickster, numbskull, etc., though some characters represent more than one. In Jack and the Beanstalk, for example, Jack is both a hero and a trickster. 

Traditional stories often follow the monomyth structure, sometimes called the hero’s journey. The hero begins living a simple life at home, but problems arise that call them to go on a quest. They face challenges, meet a helper (often a mentor-figure), are validated as a hero by powerful forces, wins their prize, and changes by the end of the story. 

There are also several different types of traditional stories, such as fables, legends, folk tales, tall tales, fairy tales, and myths. Some are meant to teach lessons, such as Aesop’s fables, and others attempt to explain natural phenomena, such as winter being caused by the goddess Persephone being in Hades. 

Now that we know a little about how traditional literature works, I want to talk about its importance. Like a lot of children, I knew stories like Little Red Riding Hood and Goldilocks and the Three Bears by heart before I could even read. I didn’t just learn traditional stories from books, either. I learned them from movies (especially Disney), TV shows, songs, crafts, and my friends. Fairy tales and other forms of traditional literature are ubiquitous in early childhood. 

I don’t think it’s just because these are well-known and well-loved stories that our parents and grandparents grew up with. Nor is it that they’re in the public domain and therefore free for media companies and publishers to create work from. Both of those things play a big role in keeping traditional tales a mainstay of our culture, but I don’t think they’re the only factors. 

I think another big factor that contributes to traditional stories surviving for centuries is how concrete they are. When you look at these stories, the protagonists typically need to overcome some physical obstacle, be it a big bad wolf or a wicked step-mother. Things also tend to be black and white: either you are good, and will have a happy ending, or you are bad, and will be defeated. Some stories may have a simple moral that a child can apply to everyday life. 

Young children are very much concrete thinkers. Abstract concepts can be difficult for them to grasp. Think back to learning math when you were young. Numbers are an abstract idea, until you have something to count. For me, learning addition and subtraction was the same as adding or taking away beans from a pile. In Piaget’s Stages of Cognitive Development, he theorizes that children have difficulty with abstract concepts until around age 12. Until then, children understand the world in a physical way.

That means there isn’t a lot of room for nuance when it comes to stories. The characters are good or bad; they will succeed or they will fail. I once heard a preschooler, upon seeing a picture of Elsa from Frozen, say that Elsa was “mean.” Elsa went from foe to friend over the course of Frozen, but for this child, Elsa couldn’t be both. She was the bad guy at the start of the movie, and for this child, that’s where she stayed until the end. 

Traditional stories don’t really have character development, except for maybe the character learning a lesson at the end. But the nature of traditional stories is that they don’t need character development. Little Red Riding Hood having a dark night of the soul in the wolf’s belly wouldn’t add anything important to the story, and it would confuse the heck out of its young readers. 

The black-and-white, simple structures of traditional stories combined with how prominent they are in children’s lives means that the messages in those old stories means that the messages within them are very easy to ingrain in a child’s mind. 

It’s also not a huge leap to say that old fairy tales don’t always have great messages by today’s standards. Damsels in distress and beauty equating to goodness are both common examples of this.* But there are also many lovely stories that have positive messages, too. One of my favorite fairy tales since I was a kid is the Three Billy Goats Gruff, where cleverness wins the day. There’s plenty of value to be found in traditional literature, and we should be conscientious of what stories, songs, and poems we share with children today.

*I also recommend against kissing frogs.

by booksoverlookedblog

Feb. 2024 Book Recs.: Black History Month

And we’re back with two book recommendations for Februrary!

February is Black History Month in the United States! Black History Month was first conceptualized as Negro History Week in 1925, by historian Carter G. Woodson and the Association for the Study of Negro Life and History. Since then, Black History Month has evolved to be a celebration of the achievements of Black Americans, as well as a time to learn about and remember America’s troubled racial history.

Fiction 

All You Have to Do by Autumn Allan

It’s 1995, and high school senior Gibran is in trouble. Again. After (literally) pulling the plug on a racist talent show act at the beginning of the school year, he’s one stunt away from getting expelled from Lakeside, his mostly White prep school. His mom wants him to keep his head down for the rest of the year and graduate, but Gibran’s not so sure he can do that. Especially after the school refuses to honor his and other Black students’ requests to honor the upcoming Million Man March.  Soon, Gibran finds himself leading the charge against the daily injustices he and other Black students face at Lakeside, but his activism may put his future at risk. 

It’s 1968, and Columbia University student Kevin is outraged at his school. Columbia University is attempting to expand its reach into Harlem by building a new gym on public land, which would displace Harlem’s Black and Puerto Rican residents. Kevin tutors young Black men in Harlem, but he wants to do something more. After Columbia’s disappointing response to the death of Martin Luther King, Jr., Kevin joins the student resistance. The student protests evolve into the real-life campus takeover, with a shocking response. All You Have To Do is a character-driven novel that looks at Black activism and how it affects the characters’ lives, both positively and negatively. While Gibran and Kevin both feel called to action, they also come to see how their work can hurt their relationships – especially with Dawn, Kevin’s sister, and Gibran’s mother. The novel includes debates about whether radical action is the “right” way to protest, as well as discussions of the roles Black women play in activism. 

Nonfiction

Unequal: A Story of America by Michael Eric Dyson and Marc Favreau


Black history in the United States is too often flattened to just a few eras or movements: enslavement and the Civil War, the Civil Rights movement in the 1960s, and more recently, the Black Lives Matter movement. The history of race and racism in the U.S. is far more complicated, and not neatly divided into historical periods. Unequal is partially a collection of biographies of Black activists, starting with Mary Church Terrell in the 1890s, and concluding with the Black Lives Matter movement and Nikole Hannah-Jones. Some activists, like Martin Luther King, Jr. or Malcolm X are well-known. Less well-known activists like Ossian Sweet and Yusuf Salaam are a welcome inclusion. Interwoven with each biography is information about the time period, which describes the legal discrimination and cultural norms that made segregation and inequality acceptable. Each chapter also ties into the effects of racism today, including discrimination in housing, health care, and environmental racism. The book addresses how American history has been Whitewashed, and the importance of learning and remembering history. The afterword states that the historical events in the book are still reflected in the modern day, and calls on readers to understand the past. This is a great choice for teens and adults who want to learn more about Black history, and how systemic racism permeates American culture today.

by booksoverlookedblog

Banned Book: Flamer by Mike Curato

This is the last post of the year! I will be taking a break in January and be back in February.

New on the ALA’s Banned Book list this year is the graphic novel Flamer by Mike Curato. If you’re a picture book aficionado, you might already be familiar with his work, such as the Little Elliot series.

In 2022, Flamer became challenged and banned books in the U.S. due to LGBTQIA+ content, and being considered as “sexually explicit.” Despite this, the book has received high praise from critics, but I think the blurb on the cover says it all.

This book will save lives.

Jarret J. Krosoczka

Fourteen-year-old Aiden Navarro isn’t excited to go to high school. He was frequently bullied at his Catholic middle school, and fears that public high school will be much worse. His parents’ frequent fights don’t make his home life easy, either. Thankfully, he has an escape during the summer at sleep away Boy Scout camp. Aiden loves scouting, but the Summer of ’95 isn’t going to be like any camp experience he’s had before. As the summer goes on, Aiden finds himself drawn to his confidant bunk mate, Elias. At first Aiden thinks that he admires Elias’s confidence and friendly nature. It can’t be a crush, right? That would make Aiden gay. And if being gay is a sin that can condemn you to hell (and get you kicked out of Boy Scouts), then it must be pretty bad. And Aiden isn’t a bad kid.

So he can’t be gay…right?

The last two weeks of summer camp are filled with some great memories – and also some terrible ones. Though Aiden makes great friends and loves camp, he’s also subjected to homophobic and racist bullying. When things look at their bleakest, Aiden wonders: does his life really have value?

The comic is in black and white, except when fire and a few other important objects are depicted. Flames are yellow, red, and orange, the only colors in the book. It’s used to great effect, especially in the climax and resolution.

Non-spoiler review: Flamer hits on heavy real-life topics that many tweens and teens can relate to. The main themes of identity and growing up are relevant to everyone, not just LGBTQIA+ youth. There is some mild sexual content, so I’d recommend this book to kids 13-14 and older.

I want to talk about the reasons that Flamer was challenged, banned, removed, or relocated.

One of the reasons was that Flamer is “sexually explicit.” Is it? Well, I think that depends on who you ask. Explicit-ness can be subjective and your feelings about what is and is not “sexually explicit” can change with time and experience. Some of the things that made me blush when I was fourteen I’m totally comfortable with now and I wouldn’t consider “explicit” today. Whether you find the sexual content in the book offensive or too much is really up to your own comfort levels. For me, the sexual content in Flamer was a little uncomfortable to read, but it wasn’t graphic. It seemed realistic and fit with the overall theme and story of the book. I can’t really object to it.

The other major complaint against Flamer is that it contains LGBTQIA+ content. And, well, duh. It’s a story about a young teenager accepting himself as gay.

As we saw earlier, LGBTQIA+ content was a really common reason given to challenge/ban books for the last 10 years. I won’t beat around the bush: this is homophobia and transphobia. There’s no other way to explain it. Otherwise, why would perfectly innocent (and adorable) books like And Tango Makes Three or This Day in June be challenged so frequently? I wouldn’t hand an elementary-age child Flamer; it’s not appropriate for the age group. But a cute picture book about a same-sex couple like Prince and Knight? Well, I wouldn’t have a problem suggesting that to a young child.

Because queer people (and penguins) exist. Everyone – from all walks of life – need to see themselves represented in media, but I think this is especially true for kids. Our early experiences shape our lives, and it’s important to see ourselves reflected in what we watch and read. Simply put, if you can’t see it, you can’t be it.

Beyond this point, there are going to be spoilers. If you’re interested in reading Flamer, check it out before you scroll down. I’d hate to ruin the (awesome) ending for you.

Content warning: there will be mentions of suicide from here on out. If that’s not something you want to read about, it’s okay to sit this one out. Mental health resources can be found at the bottom of this post.

Towards the end of Flamer, Aiden feels that everyone has turned against him. His best friend hasn’t written him back after he hinted at being gay in his most recent letter to her; a camp counselor he looked up to was removed from camp after he was discovered to be gay; Elias has been avoiding Aiden after Aiden surprised him with a kiss on his cheek. After yet another day of harsh bullying, Aiden can’t see how his life will ever get better. It feels like it would be better to end it now, and save himself years of misery. He runs to the camp’s outdoor chapel with a pocket knife and plans to take his own life.

Before Aiden can harm himself, he is taken to a strange place filled with darkness and fire. In a beautiful sequence, he speaks to “the fire of life” within himself. It challenges him: why is Aiden trying to destroy them both? They are not weak. They deserve to live. In this encounter, Aiden realizes that his life may not be as easy as his friends’, but it still has value. He still deserves to live. No matter what happens, he is enough. Just as he is.

It’s a powerful moment.

Even more powerful when you consider that suicide is the second leading cause of death among teens in the United Sates. LGBTQIA+ youth are at a higher risk for suicide, especially when they live in environments that are not supportive of their identities.

LGBTQ youth are not inherently prone to suicide risk because of their sexual orientation or gender identity but rather placed at higher risk because of how they are mistreated and stigmatized in society.

The Trevor Project, Facts about LGBTQ Youth Suicide, 2021

Aiden is fictional. But his feelings are real to those who’ve lived through them. The impact that Flamer can have on its readers is also very real. No matter how bad things have been for Aiden, or how bad they might get, he knows that he as value as a human being. And that’s a really great message, especially for teenagers. Even more so for LGBTQIA+ youth who need to see someone with the same struggles they’re going through, and come through it feeling strong.

One last thing to really drive the message home: Flamer is true. Well, parts of it. Flamer is a semi-autobiographical graphic novel, inspired by author and illustrator Mike Curato’s experiences as a gay Boy Scout in the 90s. In an author’s note at the end of the book, Curato shares some of his internal conflicts when he was Aiden’s age, and some memories from camp.

Including his suicide attempt in the camp’s chapel.

Curato survived, and went on to become a much-loved, award-winning illustrator. And now his story – and Aiden’s – is there to tell kids like him you are worthwhile. You are valued. You are enough.

And I cannot imagine why anyone who would be so cruel as to take that message away from kids who so badly need to hear it.

National Suicide Prevention Hotline (US): 1-800-273-8255
List of Suicide Crisis Lines (Worldwide)
The Trevor Project Lifeline: 1-866-488-7386 | Text: START to 678-678 | Online chat available
Q Chat Space

More resources can be found here: https://booksoverlookedblog.com/resources/

by booksoverlookedblog

Banned Books 3: Other

This is the final entry of our banned books triptych. I’d wanted to talk about this in my previous post, but I got a little carried away and couldn’t find a good place for it. (tl;dr: “This is America. You want to live in North Korea, you can live in North Korea. I don’t want to. I want to live in America.” – Ron Swanson)

Now we come to the most common reason books have been challenged or banned: that strange, nebulous category of “other.” 

And let me tell you: “other” is wild. Some of my favorite reasons given include a book using the phrase “poo poo head” (Super Diaper Baby by Dav Pilkey) and the Harry Potter books for having real curses and spells.

The curses and spells used in the books are actual curses and spells; which when read by a human being risk conjuring evil spirits into the presence of the person reading the text.

Rev. Dan Reehill

I am extremely disappointed. In the many years I’ve been reading Harry Potter,  I have never once summoned an evil spirit. Not even by accident. And if those are real spells in the book, there must be a hell of a delay effect on them. There’s a few people that have overdue Avada Kedavras coming for them.

But most of the “other” reasons given are way less amusing. You can read my list here, or check out the ALA’s list of most challenged books to see reasons why books were challenged. There’s a lot to go through, so I’m only going to discuss a few here. Specifically, the ones that really grind my gears.

Think of the children! 

Books that will, somehow, damage children if they read it. This is the justification that book challengers use all the time. Some of the books whose challenges fall under this broad category are: 

Beyond Magenta: Transgender Teens Speak Out by Susan Kuklin (2015, 2019, 2021) for the effect it would have on young people
A Day in the Life of Marlon Bundo by Jill Twiss (2018, 2019) – “designed to pollute the morals of its readers”
Fifty Shades of Grey by E.L. James (2013, 2015) – concerns that “teenagers will want to try it”
Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck (2020) – negative effect of slurs on students
Prince and Knight by Daniel Haack (2019) – would lead to confusion, curiosity, and gender dysphoria

Some of these are valid concerns. I wouldn’t want teenagers reading Fifty Shades of Grey. Classics like Of Mice and Men, Huckleberry Finn, and To Kill a Mockingbird have all come under fire for racial slurs and stereotyping, and those are fair criticisms. When I read Huckleberry Finn and To Kill a Mockingbird for English class in high school, my teacher addressed the issue head-on. He told the class that these books had slurs in them, and we were going to discuss the language in the book. He also made it clear that we were not to use those words outside of book discussions. Whether this had any impact on the language the students used outside of class I couldn’t say; I didn’t hear many racial slurs being thrown around before or after we read those books. But my high school was also pretty homogeneous, with White Catholic kids as far as the eye could see. In a more diverse school, I can see how books with slurs could be a problem. 

I still love To Kill a Mockingbird, though it’s important to acknowledge its failings: White savior, slurs, and false accusations of rape. When I encountered these criticisms, it forced me to re-evaluate the novel and think about it from different perspectives. Yes, it is problematic. Does that mean it belongs in a classroom? At this point, I think there’s enough literature available by people of color telling their own stories that it can be reasonably replaced with something more relevant and less patronizing to students of color. 

Does that mean it should be removed from schools or public libraries? 

My answer should be pretty obvious. I say no. With each (worthy) critique I found of Mockingbird, it made me understand the text in a new way and look at it with a more critical eye. It’s important to revisit the classics and look over what made them great, what makes them not-so-great today, and what value they still have in the modern day. Turn those not-so-great things into discussions and teachable moments, and use them as an opportunity to practice critical thinking on something that is pertinent to today’s reality. 

Most of the other cries to “think of the children” are not so well-intentioned. As you can see in the examples given here, would-be book banners fear that kids will be exposed to anything that isn’t heterosexual and cisgendered. It’s anti-LGBTQIA+ fear mongering coming from deeply misinformed individuals at best and outright bigots at worst. Reading a book where two men fall in love is not going to make anyone gay  any more than reading a book where a man and a woman fall in love will make them straight. It’s so obvious that I shouldn’t even need to say that, but here we are. That fear alone is homophobic and transphobic, as it implies that being queer or nonbinary is lesser or undesirable.

Even without that baseless fear, these “concerned parents” don’t want kids to see LGBTQIA+ content because…well, because. Because their religion tells them it’s wrong, or because the subject makes them uncomfortable, or because they’re simply afraid of stories that introduce experiences that are different from their own. 

Censoring, challenging, and banning books with LGBTQIA+ content hurts kids. It hurts queer, questioning, and nonbinary kids who need to see themselves in media, to know that they aren’t alone. For straight, cisgender kids, they can learn empathy and become allies. Many who want LGBTQIA+ books out of school libraries cite “parental rights,” saying that parents should be able to decide what books kids can and can’t read. But what a few parents want can’t speak for every parent. Parents – especially those who have LGBTQIA+ kids – may want their kids to read books that others are fighting so hard to take away. A few parents cannot and should not speak for an entire community. 

Instead of “think of the children,” let the children think for themselves. 

This book is indoctrination! 

Of the books that I looked at, there were only two books that were explicitly accused of indoctrinating their readers: The Hate U Give by Angie Thomas, and Prince and Knight by Daniel Haack and Stevie Lewis. But books are frequently challenged because they are perceived as promoting some kind of agenda, be it religious, political, or something else. The word “indoctrination” might not be in a book challenge itself, but the fear of it is there. 

Some of the books that this would apply to:

And Tango Makes Three by Peter Parnell, Justin Richardson, and Henry Cole (2012. 2014, 2017, 2019) – “promotes the homosexual agenda”
The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time by Mark Haddon (2015) – atheism
The Kite Runner by Khalid Hosseini (2012, 2014, 2017) – promotes Islam; would “lead to terrorism”
Melissa by Alex Gino (2016, 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020) – encouraged children to change their bodies with hormones
Stamped: Racism, Anti-Racism, and You by Ibram X. Kendi and Jason Reynolds (2020) – using “selective storytelling incidents” 

Sigh. 

I once knew a man who disparaged public schools and universities, saying that all they did was brainwash students. He was homeschooled in a very Christian household, but never stopped to think that what he had learned could also be considered “brainwashing.”* His education was also based on an agenda, but one created by his family rather than the state. He was still being taught what someone else deemed to be important. The things we learn when we’re young stick with us, whether or not they’re explicitly taught. 

When you pick up a book that contains information or ideas outside your realm of experience, you can analyze it critically, you can learn from it, you can forget about it, you can close yourself off and reject it. Encountering new ideas and perspectives can be challenging. I’ve certainly experienced that.  When I read How to Be Anti-Racist by Ibram X. Kendi, I found myself bristling at some of the content. I had to remind myself that I was reading this book to learn, even if it meant reading things where my knee-jerk reaction was to reject the information. 

Books with diverse perspectives are important tools to understand the world and things outside of our experiences. Opening the world up to new ideas and helping readers to think critically about new information is the opposite of indoctrination. 

By taking books away from would-be readers (who, in terms of banned books, are mostly youth), you limit the amount and type of information they can receive. If those readers can’t have access to a wide variety of material and are limited to only reading things that are “approved” by one authority or another…

Well, that is what I call indoctrination. 

To avoid controversy/Controversial issues

Beyond Magenta: Transgender Teens Speak Out by Susan Kuklin (2015, 2019, 2021) – to “ward off complaints”
Melissa by Alex Gino (2016, 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020) – to avoid controversy
All American Boys by Jason Reynolds and Brandon Kiely (2020) – “too much of a sensitive issue right now” 

Let me say this first: I get it. I’ve only had one real complaint about a book (so far) and it was a little scary. A woman was furious about a Sesame Street board book which showed the character wearing masks and social distancing. Thankfully, she didn’t make a request to remove the book from the library. I only listened to what she had to say and helped her find books for her kids (who, incidentally, were much too old for board books). It shocked me a little bit, but thankfully nothing more came of it. 

When it comes to books with controversial topics, I understand taking caution. As I mentioned in my last post, recently libraries have lost funding and even faced threats of violence for materials that they have on the shelf. 

Removing materials over challenges that may never happen is a form of self-censorship. I refer back to the ALA Library Bill of Rights, which states, in part:

II. Libraries should provide materials and information presenting all points of view on current and historical issues. Materials should not be proscribed or removed because of partisan or doctrinal disapproval.

III. Libraries should challenge censorship in the fulfillment of their responsibility to provide information and enlightenment.

I understand the fear of having “controversial” books on the shelves. But I’m also disappointed. Removing or restricting access to these books feels like capitulating to bullies. Granted, maybe there was a real fear of violence in these cases, but it’s frustrating to see. You can’t challenge censorship by removing materials for a “just in case” scenario.

And, finally, the most bonkers reason given to challenge or ban a book comes from Melissa by Alex Geno:

Because schools and libraries should not “put books in a child’s hand that require discussion”

Then what are schools and libraries for? 

What are books for, if not to inform and entertain? To introduce new ideas and new ways of seeing the world, even if it’s a view you’re not familiar with? To maybe even learn something new about yourself?

Schools and libraries absolutely should put books in children’s hands that require critical thinking. Books that feed curious brains and answer questions, either with facts or through the lens of fiction. This is the whole point of intellectual freedom. 

Intellectual freedom is a fundamental human right, the basis of democracy and free speech. 

And anyone who tries to abridge that freedom is a poo poo head.

*Disclaimer: This is just one example of a person I knew who was homeschooled. There are lots of good reasons to homeschool kids, and just because kids are homeschooled doesn’t mean that they’ll be closed off to new experiences.

by booksoverlookedblog

Indie Review: Hounds of Gaia

I’m a Reedsy Discovery reviewer! I received a free ARC of Hounds of Gaia by Sean Tirman for this review.

⭐⭐⭐

Home to notorious criminals fleeing justice, the asteroid Deadwood was never a safe place. But something far deadlier lurks just under the surface of the mining colony. Something brutal and merciless, that leaves only death and gore in its wake. The Contractor Foxhound doesn’t know that. She’s only here to catch a human trafficker called Fink, and get back to Earth to collect the bounty on his head. Neither does Sister Penelope, a nurturing and peace-loving woman striving to protect the forgotten children of Deadwood. Foxhound’s, Fink’s, and Penelope’s lives collide with devastating results, but the real danger is closer to them than they think.

Hounds of Gaia starts with a bang, steadily building up the horror of the tunnels underneath Deadwood. The action-packed prologue is sure to keep readers turning pages.

The worldbuilding is extremely detailed, which works well in the first few chapters of the book. It’s interesting and immersive, and makes the reader more interested in the setting. Yet as the story unfolds, the exposition becomes clunky and often unnecessary. These information dumps bring the action of the story to a shrieking halt, and sometimes repeat information that the reader already knows. It also took away some of the mystery about Foxhound’s identity. Most readers will be able to figure out where she comes from long before it’s ever revealed.

The uninterrupted action sequences themselves are excellent. Thrilling chases through seedy neighborhoods, criminals hopped up on elicit drugs, futuristic weapons, and bouts with some truly evil villains will keep readers on the edge of their seats.

While the setting is given great depth, the heroes are not. The three protagonists – Foxhound, Penelope, and a girl with no name – all suffer from thin characterization. Foxhound is a tough woman with a job to do; Penelope is a kind woman who cares deeply about the children in her care; the girl is an innocent child. Those are their character traits, and not much else. As this is the start of a series, however, there is plenty of room for character growth and development in coming books.

On the antagonist side of things, Fink and his criminal associates are utter delights whenever they appear. They revel in their villainy, which is really fun to read. Like the other characters, they aren’t fully fleshed out, but given their role in the story (and how fun they are), they don’t need to be.

Overall, Hounds of Gaia has a lot of potential for a sci-fi series. Sci-fi fans who enjoy plot-driven stories and detailed worldbuilding will enjoy this book, and the ending will keep readers curious for the next volume.

by booksoverlookedblog

Indie Review: Curse of the Terracotta Warriors

I’m a Reedsy Discovery reviewer! I received a free ARC of Curse of the Terracotta Warriors by Mark Douglas for this review.

⭐⭐⭐

When the police come to Maddie Jones’s school, she thinks they’re going to arrest her for one of her many pranks. But the truth is much worse: her archaeologist dad has been kidnapped (Or dadnapped?). Maddie is certain this has something to do with the shipment of Qin dynasty terracotta warriors that just arrived at her dad’s museum from China. With the help of her two younger brothers, Maddie will face untold dangers and unravel ancient secrets to get her dad back. And she thought climbing the rock wall in gym class was tough…

Curse of the Terracotta Warriors is an action-packed book that moves quickly. Almost every chapter ends in a cliffhanger, which keeps the reader tuning pages. Unfortunately, much of the action sequences in Part One can feel repetitive, and the novel would have benefited from tightening up the first third of the book.

Maddie is, far and away, the star of the novel. She’s bold, a natural troublemaker with a snarky personality that will instantly endear her to readers. Told from Maddie’s first-person point of view, her clear voice and colorful narration will leave readers cheering for her through the most dire situations.

There are a few writing pitfalls throughout the book. Capitalization is occasionally inconsistent, with some character’s names or the start of sentences not being capitalized while common nouns are. Another instance sees Maddie “hurtling” over an obstacle rather than “hurdling” it. These aren’t major issues, and nothing that another proofing wouldn’t fix.

The Chinese setting of Xi’an is bland and feels shallow and poorly researched. Characters refer to “Chinese letters” and the “Chinese alphabet” when it’s common knowledge that Mandarin does not have an alphabet. The characters also watch CNN in their hotel room in Xi’an and use Wi-Fi at a Starbucks to do research, despite the fact that Chinese media is heavily censored. The Chinese setting doesn’t pop enough, and these inaccuracies show through.

Even so, Curse of the Terracotta Warriors is a fun, entertaining romp with a vivacious protagonist that’s tough to put down. Its short, action-packed chapters make this a great pick for reluctant readers, and middle-grade kids who love adventures.

by booksoverlookedblog

Dec. Book Recs: The Runners-Up

First off: sorry for only one post in November. I was sick for a couple weeks, and then had family visiting for Thanksgiving. But don’t worry, I’ve still got plenty to say about banned books! But first…

I read a lot of books this year. Not including my Did Not Finishes and picture books, I’ve read 56 books this year. That’s a lot, even for me. The vast majority were books I read for these monthly recommendation lists. I really enjoyed working on them, but each list took a lot of time and effort. That’s why I didn’t have any lists for July or August – I was simply too busy. For 2024, I’m going to do mini-recommendation lists, with only one or two books a month. 

Even though I read a lot, not every book I read made it onto the book recommendation lists. I limited myself to only 5 fiction books and 5 nonfiction books for each list. There were some great books that I really enjoyed that just didn’t make the cut. Even so, I felt like they were still worthy of sharing. So here it is: the final recommendation list of 2023: Books that Didn’t Make the Cut, but Are Still Good.

Nonfiction

Planting Stories: The Life of Librarian and Storyteller Pura Belpré / Sembrando historias: Pura Belpré: bibliotecaria y narradora de cuentos by Anika Aldamuy Denise. Illustrated by Paola Escobar

If there’s such a thing as a legendary librarian, it would be Pura Belpré. Originally from Puerto Rico, Belpré came to New York City for her sister’s wedding, and ended up staying for most of her life. She became the first Puerto Rican to be hired by the New York Public Library. There, she discovered her talent and passion for storytelling, though the library shelves lacked the stories she loved growing up in Puerto Rico. Throughout her life, Belpré wrote many children’s books based on Puerto Rican folklore, becoming one of the first Puerto Ricans to publish works in English in the U.S. Her work helped open up the library to the Latinx residents of New York City, and her stories continue to celebrate the culture she loved. Planting Stories is a picture book biography of Belpré’s life, with beautiful illustrations on each page. 

Why it didn’t make the cut: I really wanted to include something about Pura Belpré for Hispanic Heritage Month. Unfortunately, the only biography I found aimed towards adults (The Stories I Read to the Children by Laura Sánchez-González) isn’t easy to find unless you’re prepared to buy it. I found picture book biographies, but I didn’t want to showcase more than one picture book. I’d already decided on A Land of Books by Duncan Tonatiuh. His work is just so cool. I encourage everyone to learn about Pura Belpré, or at least read some Pura Belpré award winners! 

Signs of Survival: A Memoir of the Holocaust by Renee G. Hartman with Joshua M. Green

Two Jewish sisters – one hearing, one Deaf – recount their struggle to survive during World War II. During the Nazi occupation of what was Czechoslovakia, Renee was the only hearing person in her family. She had to be her family’s ears, listening for the sound of Nazi boots coming to take her family away. Renee and her younger sister, Herta, were eventually separated from their parents and shipped to Bergen-Belsen concentration camp. Using sign language to communicate, Renee and Herta had to rely on each other to survive. Presented as an oral history, both sisters recount their lives before and after the Holocaust in a tragic story of sisterhood and survival. 

Why it didn’t make the cut: I had this book as a potential pick for Disability Pride. After reading it, I realized that it didn’t fit the theme that well. It was more Renee’s story, rather than Herta’s. Regardless, their story is still powerful and important. 

And the Spirit Moved Them: The Lost Radical History of America’s First Feminists by Helen LaKelly Hunt

When did the feminist movement begin in the United States? With Susan B. Anthony and the Seneca Falls Convention in 1848? With Gloria Steinem in the 1960s? Hunt argues that the first feminist movement in the U.S. began with women like Lucretia Mott, Maria Weston Chapman, and Grace and Sarah Doughlass in the 1830s. These women railed against the patriarchal structures that treated them as unequal partners in the abolitionist movement. They bucked tradition and began their own interracial abolitionist movement, which included the Anti-Slavery Convention of American Women in 1837. Most of these women were moved to action by their Christian faith and felt “armed by God” as they denounced pro-slavery religious figures. Including photos and documents, this book is accessible to many readers who are interested in women’s history. 

Why it didn’t make the cut: It’s religious. The women being moved by their Christian faith wasn’t just a side-note, it’s a major point Hunt makes throughout the book. Towards the end, she calls for more faith-based feminism among women (of any faith, not just Christianity). There is nothing wrong with being religious, especially if your faith guides you to help others. I didn’t like how religion-focused it was, but it’s a book that many others would enjoy and even feel inspired by. 

The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot

In 1951, Henrietta Lacks’s cells were taken from her without her consent or knowledge. These cells continued to grow and divide long after Henrietta’s death. Her “immortal” cell line has contributed to scientific and medical discoveries for decades, from a polio vaccines to studying COVID-19, and even being sent to space. Yet Henrietta’s family never learned about the HeLa cell line until 1975. While her cells have helped so many people, her family lived in poverty and, ironically, could not afford health care. Rebecca Skloot was fascinated by Henrietta Lacks and her cells, and worked with Henrietta’s daughter, Deborah, to tell the story of Henrietta, HeLa cells, and the Lacks family today. This book is impossible to put down, and examines race, class, and ethics in medicine and science.

Why it didn’t make the cut: Even if you haven’t read this book, you’ve at least heard of it. And it is absolutely worth the hype. Though I did put some award-winners and best sellers on the lists, I wanted to highlight less well known books that are still praise-worthy and meaningful. But if you haven’t read this one yet, stop reading this and go read it. Go read it now. 

Fiction

The Marrow Thieves by Cherie Dimaline 

The planet has been ravaged by climate change, which has resulted in most of the world’s population losing the ability to dream. The Indigenous people of North America can still dream, and are hunted for their bone marrow.  After French loses his parents and his brother is captured and taken to the “schools” – a parallel to the Canadian residential boarding school system – he joins a group of other Indigenous people – old and young alike – who have fled the cities to stay safe. Led by Miigwans, they travel north, living off the land and learning each other’s histories while trying to avoid becoming victims of a genocide. 

Why it didn’t make the cut: It’s a dark story. Really dark. Rape and murder are commonplace in this new world. The ending is ultimately hopeful, but it’s a long, bleak trek to reach that conclusion. The horrors the characters in this book face parallel real world atrocities committed against Indigenous Americans, most saliently with references to residential schools. It’s an important story, but a hard book to read. 

The City Beautiful by Aden Polydoros

While the rest of Chicago is marveling at the 1893 World’s Fair, Altar Rosen is working hard to earn money to bring his mother and sisters to the United States from Romania. After his best friend, Yakov, is murdered at the Fair, Altar is possessed by Yakov’s dybbuk. Unless Altar can find Yakov’s killer and bring him to justice, Yakov’s dybbuk will permanently take over Altar’s body. But there’s no justice to be found for poor Jewish immigrants, even when their bodies start piling up. Altar has no choice but to work with his old “friend” Frankie. Frankie helped Altar survive when he first arrived in America, but he has dark secrets of his own. Together, they need to track down a dangerous serial killer targeting Jewish boys all the while Altar navigates his grief and comes to understand his feelings for Frankie. A queer historical thriller, steeped in Jewish mythology. Includes content warning, glossary, and author’s note.

Why it didn’t make the cut: I really liked this book, and originally planned on using it for Pride Month. But when it comes to Pride, there’s a lot to cover, and I wanted to get as much diversity as I could when it came to the LGBTQIA+ spectrum. But I loved The Darkness Outside Us even more. It destroyed me emotionally was one of my favorite books that I read all year, and I really wanted to showcase it. The City Beautiful was still a great read, and I’m excited to share it here. 

Loving vs. Virginia: A Documentary Novel of the Landmark Civil Rights Case by Patricia Hruby Powell

Based on the true story of Richard Loving and Mildred (Jeter) Loving, this is the story of two people whose love changed U.S. history for the better. Milly, who was Black, and Richard, who was White, lived in the small town of Central Point, Virginia, surrounded by family. While Black and White folks mixed freely in Central Point, the rest of the state still had strict segregation laws, including laws against interracial marriage and “miscengenation.” Milly and Richard were married in Washington D.C. in 1958. Upon returning home, they were both arrested for “cohabitating as man and wife” and faced a year of jail time unless they left Virginia. They moved to Washington D.C., but were virtually exiled from the home they loved, unable to see their families or cross state lines together. After one of their children was hit by a car (he survived, but was injured), Milly and Richard were determined to return home. Thus began the fight of their lives for their right to be married. A novel in verse, the Lovings’ story is told from both Richard and Milly’s perspective, with illustrations throughout that enhance the reading experience. The dual perspectives during their wedding is breath-taking (especially if you listen to it on audio while reading the book, like I did). Facts about Jim Crow and anti-miscegenation laws begin each chapter. 

Why it didn’t make the cut: I loved this book, and I could’ve used it for a few different themes. But every time I’d planned to use it, I discovered another book that I wanted to highlight, and Loving vs. Virginia got pushed to the backburner. This book is one of the big reasons I wanted to share “runners-up” for December! 

Dragonfly Eyes by Cao Wenxuan. Translated by Helen Wang. 

Dragonfly Eyes is a historical fiction novel that tells the story of Ah Mei and her French grandmother, Océane. Océane married into the wealthy Shanghainese Du Meixi family in the 1920s and would eventually move to Shanghai and raise her family there. Océane adores her youngest grandchild (and only granddaughter) Ah Mei. Their close bond carries both of them through the turbulent times: Japan’s invasion of China in the 1930s, famine in the 1950s, and finally the Chinese Cultural Revolution in the 1960s and 70s. An omniscient narrator describes Ah Mei and Océane’s lives with tender details amidst the historical backdrop. Ah Mei and Océane’s loving relationship is the heart of this novel, softening the harsh blows that buffet the family.

Why it didn’t make the cut: I didn’t like it. Omniscient narrators and a thin plot made it hard for me to get into this novel. The book was lovely in its own way, it but wasn’t for me.