Revisiting Tahir: All My Rage

Several years ago, I read An Ember in the Ashes by Sabaa Tahir. I had many problems with it: the characters, the plot holes, and the pervasive threats of sexual violence against the female characters. One thing I had no complaints about, however, was the writing itself. While there was so much to dislike about An Ember in the Ashes, the prose was actually good. I just didn’t like the story it was telling. After I was finished with the book, I happily returned it to the library and thought that would be the end of my dealings with Ms. Tahir.

I was wrong. 

When I started my job as a public librarian, there were five copies of All My Rage by Sabaa Tahir on the shelf. I walked past them every day, wondering why we needed so many. One day, I decided to find out. All My Rage received the 2022 National Book Award for Young People’s Literature. The following year, it received the Michael J. Printz Award. Now I was intrigued. I’ve read a few Printz Award winners over the years and liked them all. I had to know for myself if it was worth the hype. 

All My Rage is told from the perspective of three different characters: Muslim teens Salahudin (Sal) and Noor, and Sal’s mother, Misbah. In the small, mostly-White town of Juniper, CA, Sal and Noor dream of changing their lives. Sal’s family owns the struggling Cloud’s Rest Inn Motel. Misbah’s health is failing, and his alcoholic father is no help for either the hotel or his wife. Sal struggles to run the hotel, take care of his parents, and finish his senior year of high school. Things might have been easier if he could talk to his best friend Noor, but she’s been avoiding him since the Fight. 

Noor misses her best friend. She hasn’t talked to Sal since the Fight, which means she also hasn’t spoken to Misbah in months. Noor was orphaned at a young age, and Misbah was like a mother to her. Noor lives with her cruel uncle, who resents her for intruding on his life. She is desperate to go to college and escape Juniper, but her uncle forbids her from even applying to school. 

Finally, Misbah tells the story of her life between Sal’s and Noor’s chapters. She starts with her arranged marriage to Salahudin’s father, Toufiq, and continues with her life in America and raising Salahudin. Her sections are beautifully written, and reveal more of the family’s history. 

All My Rage isn’t just a coming-of-age story. It’s a problem novel. In fact, it’s the problem novel. 

The definition of a problem novel is simple: a teenager has to deal with some kind of societal problem. Some famous problem novels you might have heard of are Speak by Lauire Halse Anderson, Crank by Ellen Hopkins, and Go Ask Alice by “Anonymous” (really, Beatrice Sparks). These books center around social ostracization, sexual assault, and drug use. 

All My Rage deals with physical, emotional and sexual abuse, drug and alcohol dependency, Islamaphobia, parental death, chronic illness, poverty, teen parenthood, racism, bullying, and bias in law enforcement.

To be honest, it felt a little unbelievable at first that Salahudin and Noor could have so many terrible things going on in their life. I had to remind myself that there are real teenagers in the world who deal with all these problems. However, there’s just so many problems packed into the novel there were times when it edged into “misery lit” territory. Fortunately, Tahir’s elegant prose elevates All My Rage and keeps it from feeling like trauma porn.

I think that the various social issues that Sal and Noor have to deal with are handled well, for the most part. For example, Toufiq’s alcoholism is portrayed realistically. Salahudin tries to keep it a family secret, and Toufiq quits and relapses more than once. There were a couple things that I think could have been done a bit better. The racist bullying that Noor finds herself on the end of, for example. It starts out realistically, with subtle things, like the mean girl refusing to pronounce her name correctly. But it gets worse, with no real reason for the bully to be so horrible to her, and ends with a racist tirade the whole school learns about. Most bullying that stems from racism is a lot more subtle, and people who are blatantly racist like the bully typically aren’t that popular.

I also had some misgivings when I realized the novel was also going to tackle the issue of sexual abuse. One of my biggest complaints about An Ember in the Ashes was the excessive and pervasive rape threats in the book, and I wasn’t sure if Tahir would be able to write about this delicate issue well. Thankfully, sexual abuse is handled much better in All My Rage. The novel shows the long-term negative effects on the survivor, even years after the abuse occurred. The survivor is portrayed sympathetically, wounded but not destroyed. Overall, it’s a pretty good depiction of the aftermath of assault. I didn’t love the resolution of this sub-plot, however. I felt like it was just added on at the end, which made me feel like it was only included in the book to increase the character’s suffering.

At the same time I started All My Rage, I was reading another novel as well, that I’ll call Everything Bad Happens to Jimmy in lieu of its actual title. This is another heavy book, which starts with bad things happening to Jimmy. It gets worse from there, gets slightly better, and then gets worse again. Over halfway through the novel, another terrible thing happened to Jimmy, and I was just so tired of it. I put the book down and never picked it up again.

But I finished All My Rage, even though there were times I put the book down for several days because it just got too sad. So, why did All My Rage succeed where Jimmy failed? 

Let’s start with the opening. Jimmy opens in media res with our hero already in a crisis. It’s an attention-grabbing scene, and we feel for Jimmy because he’s a vulnerable person who’s been put in a dangerous situation through no fault of his own. But we don’t really know who Jimmy is before this traumatic event happens to him. As more and more bad things happen to Jimmy, we don’t see much of who he is beyond his rage and pain. The things he’s gone through aren’t just part of who he is – they become almost all the reader sees of him. 

All My Rage gives us time to get to know the main characters before the bad stuff in their lives happens. We get a look at who Saluhdin and Noor are: their struggles, their wants, their family lives, and their relationship with each other. We learn about who they are before everything goes pear-shaped, and that lets us get attached to the main characters. We want them to succeed because we like them and relate to their struggles. It took me a long time to finish this book, but I read the whole thing because I cared about Salahudin and Noor and wanted to see them (hopefully) earn a happy ending. 

Noor and Sal’s ending is earned, rather than just something they stumble into. This is another area where All My Rage succeeded while Jimmy did not: the choices the characters make. Jimmy doesn’t make deliberate choices so much as he reacts to the situations he’s in. The current problem or solution is almost never caused by anything Jimmy chooses. Things just sort of happen to him, with an increasing amount of horribleness. 

Salahudin and Noor are put in difficult situations and make deliberate choices based on what they think will help improve their circumstances. They make mistakes, and then must deal with the consequences of their actions. They are actively involved in the course the story takes, and aren’t just being pushed around by events that are out of their control. They drive the plot, rather than the plot driving them.


But finally – and maybe most importantly – All My Rage delivers on the promise of the premise. 

“The promise of the premise” is a phrase that originates from Save the Cat! By Blake Snyder. When you read a book or watch a movie, you usually have an idea of what you’re getting into. That’s the premise. The premise of The Hunger Games, for example, would be “teens compete in a fight to the death.” Harry Potter would be, “wizard boy battles against evil in a magical world.”

The premise of Everything Bad Happens to Jimmy was “an urban fantasy set during a historical conflict.” The book did not live up to that premise. The historical conflict was a big part of the book, and there were some fantasy elements, but not nearly enough. Mostly, it was terrible things happening to Jimmy, with magical elements few and far between. The book I was reading was not the book that I had signed up for. In short, this novel did not deliver on the promise of the premise. When that happens, sometimes I can adjust my expectations and enjoy the story the author actually wrote, but with the book’s other aforementioned problems, I gave up.

For All My Rage, it would be, “two Muslim teens struggle to overcome difficult circumstances in a small town.” That’s what I expected from this book, and that’s what I got. Tahir fulfilled the promise of the premise. 

As difficult as All My Rage could be to read, I kept going. The novel works because I sympathize with Salahudin and Noor. I care about these characters and I was invested in their lives. When they make mistakes, I don’t hate them for it. I feel for them, two kids struggling to keep their heads above the water when everything around them threatens to pull them under. The beautiful prose also helps with some of the darkness in this book and takes away some of the sting, as do the Misbah intervals. 

All My Rage isn’t my favorite book. It’s hard to get through, and it falls a little flat when it comes to some of the supporting characters. That said, I think it’s worth the read. I’ve talked about representation in media a bit before, and All My Rage offers readers a look into the life of two Muslim teenagers. Their faith plays a role in who they are, but it’s not their defining characteristic. Salahudin and Noor are complex characters that offer “windows and mirrors” to the novel’s readers. They can give readers a look into their lives as Middle Eastern-Americans, Muslims, and as struggling teens. Other readers who are Middle Eastern, or Muslim, or a teen going through a tough time can see themselves reflected back in the pages of this book. 

The writing itself was beautiful, and essential to the book. With so many topics being tackled, All My Rage could have become a clunky problem novel. Instead, Tahir has woven a multi-layered coming-of-age story that’s worthy of praise. If you like emotional, character-driven books, give this one a try. Just keep the tissues handy. 

Sunshine State Books: Brick Dust and Bones by M.R. Fournet

Every year, the Sunshine State Young Readers Award (SSYRA) Program in Florida names several lucky books Sunshine State books. These books have been voted on by schools across Florida as “the best” books for K-12 students. Alongside students’ and teachers’ votes, these books are “selected for their wide appeal, literary value, varied genres, curriculum connections, and/or multicultural representation.” These books make up the bulk of summer reading lists in Florida. 

This year, a local school reached out to the public libraries and asked for help with their annual Battle of the Books. The librarians who signed up had to read two books from the Grade 6-8 list and write fifteen open-ended comprehension questions about them. A chance to read cool kids’ books on the clock? I jumped at the opportunity. 

The first book I chose was The Lost Year by Katherine Marsh. It was an excellent book, but not exactly uplifting. For my second book, I chose Brick Dust and Bones by M.R. Fournet because it sounded like a fun urban fantasy romp. I was not disappointed. 

SSYRA’s description: 

Marius Grey hunts Monsters. He’s not supposed to. He’s twelve and his job as a Cemetery Boy is to look after the ghosts in his family’s graveyard. He should be tending these ghosts and–of course–going to school to learn how to live between worlds without getting into trouble. But, Marius has an expensive goal. He wants to bring his mother back from the dead, and that takes a LOT of mystic coins, which means a LOT of Monster Hunting, and his mother’s window to return is closing. If he wants her back, Marius is going to have to go after bigger and meaner monsters. Can Marius navigate New Orleans’s gritty monster bounty-hunting market, or will he have to say goodbye to his mother forever?

The book opens with Marius staking out a little girl’s bedroom, waiting for a boogeyman to arrive. After a magical tussle, he traps the terrifying creature in his monster book and turns it in for the bounty.  By the time Marius got to the Habada-Chérie to get his reward, I was totally hooked. I realized the Brick Dust and Bones has so many things I loved about Harry Potter, minus an incredibly problematic author. 

There’s obviously the magical orphan boy to start, but it feels sharper than Harry’s loss. Marius’s father disappeared when he was young, and his mother died two years before the start of the book. Marius misses and mourns them, especially his mother. Harry Potter misses what he might have had, but Marius knows true, deep loss. 

Marius’s loss isn’t as straightforward as you might think. He can still hear his mother’s voice and have conversations with her. Not all the time, and sometimes her voice falls silent when he needs her the most. Even with her voice whispering in his ear, Marius still feels her absence deeply. Just being able to hear his mother’s is not enough to make him stop missing her. He’s also dealing with a different kind of loss, that of his childhood. Marius is pretty self-sufficient, but he doesn’t always want to be. There are moments when he just misses having someone to take care of him so he can be a kid. 

The other thing I really loved about this book – and Harry Potter – was the well-developed magical world. Specifically, the magical world that’s just under normal people’s noses. There are three types of people: totally normal folks, totally magical folks, and fringe people. Marius is a fringe person, with one foot in the normal world, and one in the magical world. I think the setting that best exemplifies this is Mama Roux’s. 

As a cemetery boy, Marius’s job is to take care of the mausoleums in his graveyard, as well as the ghosts that inhabit it. One of his chores is to take the ghosts to Mama Roux’s for dinner. Mama Roux’s is a neutral zone, where normal families come to dine without even knowing about the ghosts and demons around them. The ghosts have to avoid the normal children, though, since they’re more likely to see them. This is a place where demons cut deals with humans, ghosts pretend to eat fake food, and normal people don’t realize a thing. 

Mama Roux’s isn’t the only thing about the setting I love. The book takes place in New Orleans, a city that is already ripe for magic. One of Marius’s teachers, Madame Millet, reads tarot cards for tourists at night but teaches fringe kids real magic during the day. The magical store he visits sells incense and gris-gris dolls as souvenirs for normal people, and supplies for actual spellcasting and monster hunting to people like Marius. Marius hunts monsters in the bayou, grave hops around the city’s cemeteries, and even uses the word beignets to signal a poltergeist. New Orleans’s burial traditions come back in a big way at the end of the book. There are some books where the setting isn’t that important. Rich People With Problems could take place in Anytown, USA, and you’d still have the same story. But if you took Brick Dust and Bones out of Louisiana, you’d have a very different story, and one that probably isn’t as much fun.

There’s a lot of good fantasy action sequences and monsters. Lots of monsters. 

The story opens with Marius hidden in a girl’s bedroom closet, waiting for the lights to go out. Once they do, Marius faces off against the boogeyman hiding under the girl’s bed. He fights a “candy lady” who turns out to be more dangerous than he’d thought. There’s a fantastic final battle against a deadly monster who’s way out of Marius’s league. Even Marius’s best friend is a monster: Rhiannon, a mermaid who’s more man-eating siren than Princess Ariel.

Some of these monsters are based on Cajun and Hoodoo tradition, which was really refreshing. I really enjoyed reading about monsters that were outside the typical fantasy fare. Marius’s unconventional friendship with Rhiannon was great. While other monster hunters would have captured her without a second thought, befriending the mermaid is a boon to Marius in a number of ways.

There are also literal fire and brimstone demons, which would have scared me if I read this as a kid. Blame it on the Catholic upbringing. Demons occupy an interesting place in Marius’s world. They’re not monsters that Marius would hunt, but they’re not good, either. Humans, even normal humans, can make deals with demons. Some of these deals affect Marius personally.

If all that doesn’t make you want to read the book, I’ll add this: the ticking time bomb. Marius had two years to earn the Mystic Coins he needs to bring his mother back, and his window of time to earn them is rapidly closing. I’ve also read some books where the hero ultimately decides not to bring their deceased love one back to life, and I didn’t know how this one would go. Without giving away the ending, I honestly didn’t know if he was going to make the deadline…or choose to not bring his mom back to life.

Brick Dust and Bones was such a fun book, especially after reading The Lost Year. For a book full of monsters, it still has very human themes: loss, grief, responsibility, and friendship. There are some scary sequences, so I would recommend this book for ages 10 and up. It’s a great introduction to horror/urban fantasy for kids and an absolute blast to read. 

The questions I wrote for this book are more trivia than discussion questions. Here they are (contains spoilers): 

1.       Marius is an orphan, but he has adults who look out for him. How do these adults act like parents to him?

2.       Marius’s mother tells him that he’s “so much older than you ought to be.” What did she mean by this?

3.       Rhiannon says that she doesn’t understand “the in-between stuff” of human relationships. What does she mean by “in-between stuff”?

4.       Most monster hunters would have captured Rhiannon. How does Marius benefit from having her as his friend instead?

5.       Why has Marius avoided sleeping in his bed?

6.       Why does Marius pay off Mrs. Pine’s debt?

7.       Why does Rhiannon help Marius find the rougarou, even though she doesn’t want him to hunt it?

8.       Other than math, why does Marius dislike school?

9.       How does Marius’s job as a cemetery boy help him in the story?

10.   Why doesn’t Marius want the adults in his life to know that he’s monster hunting?

11.   Why can children see ghosts and monsters, but adults can’t?

12.   Why do the High Mystics tolerate demons, but not monsters?

13.   How does Marius know that he can trust Rhiannon, even if she is a monster?

14.   Why does Mildred let Marius get away with stealing from Madame Millet?

15.   Why does Marius give Henry a rosary and worry beads after he captures the boo hag? 

Sunshine State Books: The Lost Year by Katherine Marsh

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.


It took some time, but I’m back! I have lots of literary-based goals for 2026. I’ve already started one of them: The OKayest Travel Blog. I spent two weeks in Japan last fall, and I wanted to share stories about my trip. Right now there are only a couple posts, but I aim to get one up once a month. I’m also in the early stages of starting a BookTok, so I’ll be sharing that when it finally happens. I’m doing plenty of writing, and even more reading. Which brings us to our first book review of the new year…

Every year, the Sunshine State Young Readers Award (SSYRA) Program in Florida names several lucky books Sunshine State books. These books have been voted on by schools across Florida as “the best” books for K-12 students. Alongside students’ and teachers’ votes, these books are “selected for their wide appeal, literary value, varied genres, curriculum connections, and/or multicultural representation.” As soon as the annual list gets released, your friendly Florida public librarians scramble to get them onto the shelves and into kids’ hands ASAP. The Sunshine State books make up the bulk of summer reading lists, and they fly off the shelves.  There have been many books that I would just love to read, but I hold off until winter or the next summer. The demand for these books is just too high, especially in the summer and fall, and I want to make sure that the kids who need them for school have them. 

But this year was different. A local school reached out to the public libraries and asked for help with their annual Battle of the Books. The librarians who signed up had to read two books from the Grade 6-8 list and write fifteen open-ended comprehension questions about them. A chance to read cool kids’ books on the clock? I jumped at the opportunity. 

The Lost Year by Katherine Marsh is the first of the two Sunshine State books I read. Here’s the SSRYA summary of the book: 

Thirteen-year-old Matthew is miserable. His journalist dad is stuck overseas indefinitely, and his mom has moved his one-hundred-year-old great-grandmother in with them to ride out the pandemic. Matthew is stuck at home during the early days of the pandemic, and he would rather play video games than hang out with his great-grandmother, GG. But Matthew’s mom has other plans. Forced to unpack GG’s storage boxes, Matthew finds a tattered blackand-white photo in his great-grandmother’s belongings that serves as a clue to a hidden chapter of her past, one that will lead to a life-shattering family secret. 

One of the reasons I wanted to read this book was because it took place, in part, during the COVID lockdown. It’s not a time that I look back on fondly, but I was one of the lucky few that was comfortable during that strange time. It was an unexpected break from a job I hated, my husband was still working, so we still had an income, and I was taking a young adult literature class in grad school. I spent most of my lockdown reading YA books, writing poetry, and playing Monster Prom. I wanted to see COVID from a kid’s perspective. I also wanted to see this modern historical event in fiction. It’s one thing to read about World War II in a novel, but another to read about an event you actually lived through. 

The other reason was that I wanted to know what the family secret was. I assumed that it was something World War II related. World War II is practically its own fiction genre at this point. I was wrong.

The novel is still centered around a major historic event in the 20th Century, but one I didn’t expect: the Holodomor. The Holodomor was a human-made famine in Ukraine from 1932 to 1933 which resulted in the deaths of millions of Ukrainians. I knew a little bit about the Holodomor, mostly because I’d read about Walter Duranty’s infamously inaccurate reporting of the famine. I’ve never seen it in a fiction book before. I’m sure that many young readers had never heard of the Holodomor before picking up The Lost Year either. While you should stick to non-fiction resources when you’re doing research, I think novels are a really good entry point for kids to learn more about history. Case in point: I wouldn’t be nearly as interested in Revolutionary War history as I am today if not for Felicity from the American Girl franchise. 

Despite what the summary led me to believe, most of the story is not about Matthew. It’s about three cousins leading very different lives in 1933, until they all brought together by the famine. Matthew’s chapters largely act as framing devices as he learns their stories from GG. He’s not as well developed as the cousins, but his character arc has a satisfying conclusion that works beautifully with the book’s theme. 

The cousins Matthew’s learns about are Helen, Mila, and Nadiya. Mila lives an easy life in Kyiv, the daughter of a high-ranking Soviet officer. Nadiya is from the Ukrainian countryside, and everything changes when she knocks on Mila’s door. Nadiya claims that she is Mila’s cousin, which Mila denies. To Mila, this girl is a kulak, an enemy of the State, and has to be lying about Mila’s father. When Mila discovers that Nadiya really is her cousin, and people are starving to death all around her, she has a choice to make. Can she protect Nadiya? Should she?

Helen lives with her family in New York City and strives to be a normal American girl, not the child of immigrants. When she reads Walter Duranty’s infamous “Russians Hungry, But Not Starving” article about the famine, she knows that it isn’t true. According to her parents, her family in Ukraine is struggling to survive. After some urging from a new friend, Helen sets out to collect the stories of friends and neighbors about the famine their relatives are experiencing. As she records history, she’s determined to help her relatives across the sea any way she can. 

My short review: The Lost Year is really good and you should read it. 

It isn’t always easy to read. It obviously deals with a heavy subject matter, and some readers may not be ready to revisit COVID. As I got to the end of the book, I  even put off reading it for a few days because I was so worried about one of the characters. Even so, it became one of my favorite books that I read in 2025. To me, it’s comparable with Out of the Dust or Number the Stars. All three books take place during a troubled time, and they don’t shy away from the dangers and tragedies of those time periods. 

There are those who think children need to be shielded from tragedy, and I understand that. I even agree, to a point. But I also believe that children are often more robust than we give them credit for. I also think that fiction is a safe way to introduce children to hard things. For example, one of the picture books I had growing up was called I Had a Friend Named Peter by Janice Cohn. In it, a young girl’s friend, Peter, dies. The book uses a narrative to teach children about death, and help facilitate conversations between children and their caregivers on the subject. In my opinion, the narrative makes it easier to engage with these topics. While I Had a Friend Named Peter is pretty didactic, I believe this is true of many books. There are so many great books that deal with tough subjects, whether they be historical events like the Holodomor, or things that are universally relevant to all of us: loss, love, friendship, jealousy, navigating relationships. 

I think this is true of books that are not strictly meant to teach as well. There are so many books that deal with tough subjects that are relevant to everyone’s life. Fiction can be a shield. It allows us to experience things through the eyes of characters. We can share their feelings, but also put the book away when we need to. When we encounter hard times, we have someone we can relate to, and even look to for comfort. 

There were a lot of things that I loved about the book. I’m very picky when it comes to historical fiction, but Soviet Union history is something that I have a lot of interest in. I also really like the small details of everyday life in historical settings when they’re interwoven in the text. I really hate a research dump in fiction, which was one of the problems I had with Magic Lessons. Here, those little details come naturally, like Mila’s favorite candy being Bumble Bears, or the characters playing the Russian card game Trust, Don’t Trust. 

Even the 2020 timeline has this. Maybe the COVID shutdown isn’t far enough back to be considered historical fiction, but someday it will be. Ten, fifteen, twenty years from now, those details of school over Zoom, only being able to see your friends if they walk by your house, and the anxiety and monotony of lockdown will be one way that kids will learn about what that strange time was really like.

I really liked the character arcs for Helen and Mila. Helen just wants to be a regular American girl. She doesn’t want to stick out, and wants to hide what makes her different from all the other kids she goes to school with. After she learns about the famine, and her family’s personal connection to it, she starts to change. Over the course of the novel, Helen learns how to find her voice and takes pride in her Ukrainian heritage. She takes an active role in preserving history, even if she doesn’t see it that way at the time. Her clever thinking helps save Nadiya’s life, and she pushes the adults in her life into action. 

The character who goes through the most change is Mila. She starts the novel as the spoiled daughter of a high-ranking Soviet officer and has an easy life full of luxuries the rest of the Soviet people do not have. Mila is ignorant of the things happening all around her, and sees the world in a black and white way. You are either a good Communist, protected by Papa Stalin, or you are a kulak, and deserve whatever happens to you. When Nadiya knocks on her door, Mila doesn’t believe that a kulak could be her cousin, or that the famine is even real. Instead of staying in her comfortable world of piano lessons and propaganda, she chooses to learn more and discover the truth for herself. 

The other thing I loved about the book was the overarching theme of storytelling. Storytelling plays a significant role for each of the three POV characters. In 2020, as GG tells Matthew her story, he discovers that there’s so much more to her than he ever knew. He also learns that her whole story has never been told, not even to her daughter or her cousin Helen. Matthew records GG’s stories, but ultimately gets her to share her story with the world, so that the truth of what happened to her won’t be forgotten. 

Mila’s father tells her stories every day. Instead of fairytales, though, he tells her stories of Soviet heroes and the greatness of the Soviet Union. Mila eagerly absorbs these stories and never thinks to question them. Those stories form the basis of her beliefs about the Soviet Union and her own life. When Nadiya forces her to confront the truth, Papa’s stories become just as fanciful as Baba Yaga. The book also shows how it’s hard to let go of the things you believe, even when it’s staring you in the face. 

Helen collects personal stories about the Holodomor at first to write to The New York Times with a rebuttal to Duranty’s reporting on the famine. These stories help her become engrained in her community and spur her into action. As we see in the epilogue, Helen’s dedication to sharing the truth about the Holodomor shapes her entire life. Her work helps preserve the true history of both her family and the famine, but it also guides her into the future. 

When we read about historical events, it can be easy to get lost in the numbers. Storytelling and oral history puts a face on the survivors. I can read facts about the Dust Bowl, but it won’t make me feel anything as much as my grandma’s stories about living through it did. Stories are entertaining, of course. But they can also be used to teach, to put a face on history, and to keep the memories of our loved ones alive. The Lost Year does all of these. 

If you’re interested in learning more about the Holodomor, you can visit the Holodomor Research and Education Consortium (HREC) website. The section Witness Accounts contains links to oral history collections and other primary resources. Author Katherine Marsh and her cousin, Andrea Zoltanetzky, share their family’s memories of the Holodomor and the Ukrainian immigrant experience in the book’s backmatter, and in this YouTube video: 

The discussion questions I wrote for the book: 

1.       What do you think The Lost Year refers to for Matthew? What does it refer to for Helen and Mila?

2.       Helen’s mother and Matthew’s mother warn them that they’re upsetting people by asking for their stories. Why did GG and the people Helen interviewed share their stories, even if they’re upsetting?

3.       What role does storytelling play in the story for Mila, Helen, and Matthew?

4.       Ruth says that Helen is a good leader. In what ways is she a leader?

5.       How does Mila deal with losing faith in her father, while at the same time loving him very much?

6.       How does meeting Nadiya change the way that Mila understands the world? 

7.       How is Mila’s friendship with Nadiya different from her friendship with Katya? How is it similar?

8.       Why did GG hide her true identity for so long?

9.       Why does Helen want to be seen as a normal American girl?

10.   The main characters’ parents all guide them in different ways through the novel. How does their parents’ guidance shape them at the start of the book? How does it shape them by the end of the book?

11.   What similarities does the book show between the COVID-19 pandemic and the Holodomor?

12.   How does Mila see Dasha at the beginning, middle, and end of the book? How does Dasha see Mila?

13.   Anna Mikhailovna says that Mila is either foolish or lucky. How is she foolish, lucky, or both?

14.   Why did Helen think that she couldn’t write to The New York Times?

15.   How did Mila’s and Nadiya’s roles reverse by the end of the novel?

Dec. 2025 Book Recs: Just Books I Liked


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.


Quick announcement before we begin: I’ve decided that I will not be doing book recommendation lists in 2026. Making these lists has been a great experience, and I’ve read a lot of excellent books that I might not have picked up otherwise. They’ve really helped me diversify my book shelves and read outside my comfort zone, and I hope they’ve done the same for you too. 

It’s also a lot of work. I don’t just read two books a month – I “sample” several, which usually means reading at least 100 pages. Most of the reading I’ve done for the past two years has been just for these recommendation lists, and it’s time to take a break and read…well, whatever I want. Maybe I’ll finally get around to Sunrise on the Reaping. This doesn’t mean that the blog is finished, though. I’ll still be doing “books I didn’t pick” and “dusty” titles, and hopefully more. I’d really love to do something about literature and theatre, and Shakespeare adaptations. (But have you ever read Shakespeare? It’s hard.) 

Let’s get into the final book recommendation list: Just Stuff I Liked. These are books that are worthy of sharing, but never made it onto a list before. Here are some of my favorite books in the last few years that never made it to the blog.

Nonfiction

Nickel and Dimed: On (Not) Getting by in America by Barbara Ehrenreich

First published in 2001, Nickel and Dimed has remained scarily relevant for over twenty years. Between 1998 and 2000, writer Barbara Ehrenreich voluntarily joined the ranks of the working poor. She worked as a maid, nursing home aid, waitress, and Wal-Mart associate to understand the lived realities of millions of Americans below the poverty line. This book documents her experiences and struggles, such as working through pain and finding housing within her budget. The experiment ended when Ehrenreich faced homelessness, or, as she put it, she could no longer afford to work at Wal-Mart. Along with issues with housing, she also looks at food insecurity, the impact of manual labor on employees’ health, and hiring practices that veer into discriminatory. While the numbers have changed since this book was published, the facts have not. Nickel and Dimed remains a revelatory must-read for Americans today. 

Her Space, Her Time: How Trailblazing Women Scientists Decoded the Hidden Universe by Shohini Ghose

Women have long been involved in scientific fields, but have rarely gotten acknowledged for their work until recent history. Her Space, Her Time finally gives some of these brilliant women their much overdue credit. In the late 19th Century, astronomer Annie Jump Cannon helped create Harvard’s Classification Scheme, which is still used today, while being paid less than her male counterparts. Lise Meitner and her nephew Otto Frisch published the first paper on nuclear fission. Meitner’s longtime collaborator Otto Hahn was awarded the Nobel Prize for this discovery, and Meitner was left in obscurity. We all know Marie Curie, but what about Harriet Brooks or Bibha Chowdhuri? Each chapter focuses on a different scientific top, such as astronomy, physics, or chemistry, and the women who helped revolutionize their fields of study. Ghose explains complex scientific concepts in an understandable way, perfect for science lovers who chickened out of taking physics in high school (read: me). I learned so much from this book, not only about science, but also about the phenomenal women who helped shape our understanding of the universe, from the smallest sub-atomic particles to the Big Bang.

The Soul of an Octopus: A Surprising Explorating Into the Wonder of Consciousness  by Sy Montgomery


The intelligence and physiology of octopuses1 make them among the most fascinating animals on the planet. Naturalist Sy Montgomery was intrigued by octopus consciousness before she had the chance to meet one in person. At her casual visits to the aquarium, she felt that they were watching her as much as she was watching them. Montgomery first met the Pacific Octopus Athena, who eagerly latched on to Montgomery’s arm. Athena was strong enough to pull Montgomery into her icy tank, but instead was playful and curious. Thus began a series of octopus friends that Montgomery got to observe from their youth to death: Octavia, Kali, and Karma. Octopuses are highly intelligent animals that require toys and stimulation to keep them occupied; a bored octopus can be dangerous to itself and its handlers. They also have distinct personalities (Montgomery notes that Kali was aptly named) and strong emotions. Soul of an Octopus offers a compelling look at octopus consciousness both like and unlike our own. 

Patriot: A Memoir by Alexei Navalny

This story of Alexei Navalny’s life begins when he nearly died. While flying from Tomsk, Siberia to Moscow, he was poisoned with the nerve agent Novichok. He spent 18 days in a coma, and spent several months recovering in Berlin. Navalny knew who his would-be assassin was: Vladimir Putin. Navalny has been an outspoken critic of Putin’s regime and leader of the opposition party, the Anti-Corruption Foundation. He began writing his memoir while recovering from the poisoning, and ended it in prison. First is Navalny’s biography, where he recounts growing up before and after the fall of the Soviet Union and his education and early years as a lawyer. He writes about how he became the Russian opposition leader, and the dangerous and life-altering consequences for him and his family. One chilling chapter details Navalny returning to Russia after his poisoning, despite knowing that he will likely be arrested once he returns. The second half of the book is Navalny’s prison diaries and social media posts. He shares his experience in prison, including a hunger strike when he was denied medical care. The entries become sparser as his punishments in prison worsen, and Navalny would be killed in a prison above the Arctic Circle. Despite bleak circumstances, his writing never veers into self-pity or nihilism. Instead, he writes passionately about his work and condemns the invasion. Navalny also never loses his sharp sense of humor, adding some surprising moments of levity. While not an easy read, it is a powerful memorial and a stark reminder of how important it is to stand against authoritarianism. 

Musicophilia: Tales of Music and the Brain by Oliver Sacks

Ah, music! Who doesn’t love a great song that you can sing along to? Well, if you have amusia, a symphony may sound like pots and pans banging together. Musical hallucinations are real, too, and can cause a great deal of distress. But many of us love music, and our brains do, too. Oliver Sacks, best known for his work The Man Who Mistook His Wife For a Hat, takes a look into the good, the bad, and the utterly strange ways that music affects our brains. The book opens with the case of Tony Cicoria, a man who never had more than a casual interest in music. Then he was struck by lightning. Cicoria survived, but was struck by another passion: classical music. Within three months of his recovery, he was spending almost all of his time playing piano and composing music. His new obsession lasted decades. This is only one of the stories about the mysterious relationship between music and the human brain. Others include a man with amnesia whose memory lasts only seconds, but can still read and play music, a musician with severe Tourette’s whose tics diminish greatly only when he performs, among others. The therapeutic effects of music on people with Parkinson’s and Alzheimer’s is shown as well. Sacks never turns these narratives into freak shows, but writes compassionately about the power of music and the mysteries of the human brain. 

Fiction

Gravity by Sarah Deming

Gravity Delgado is a force to be reckoned with. This young woman is a fierce, undefeated boxer, preparing for the 2016 Olympics in Rio. She’s been training since she was twelve, but her biggest challengers are the ones that she faces outside the ring. Her alcoholic mother, responsibilities for her younger brother, and a heady romance all threaten Gravity’s rising star. She still has her supportive aunt and cousin, as well as her found family at the gym in her corner. Still, Gravity’s biggest obstacle might be herself. The boxing matches are exciting to read, and include both the physical and mental aspects of a bout. Gravity makes mistakes and occasionally stumbles, but you’ll be cheering for her in and out of the ring. A novel that pulls no punches in the best way. 

The Truth About Everything by Bridget Farr

Fifteen-year-old Lark knows how to drive, fix an engine, and catch her own food, but she can barely read. She and her parents know the end is coming, and they’ll be the only ones left standing after the inevitable downfall of America. Raised by two doomsday preppers, Lark has never questioned the conspiracy theories that she was raised on. Then Lark gets her period for the first time. She thinks that she’s miscarrying, something that has happened to her mother many times before, but doesn’t know how she could have gotten pregnant in the first place. After her mother explains what her period is, Lark starts to wonder what else her parents haven’t told her? Lark secretly enrolls herself in high school, where new knowledge conflicts with everything she’s been taught at home. She’s hungry to learn, even when it means uncovering painful truths. But soon, Lark finds herself at a crossroads. What is the real truth? And what will Lark have to sacrifice for it? Pairs well with Educated by Tara Westover. 

Uprooted by Naomi Novik

Once every ten years, the Dragon takes a village girl into his tower in the corrupt Wood. When she leaves a decade later, with jewels and finery, she is irrevocably changed and leaves the village forever. But the Dragon isn’t a scaly creature that breathes fire. He is a seemingly ageless, enigmatic wizard. Agnieszka has no fear of being taken. The Dragon only takes the most remarkable young ladies, and she’s nothing special. Though no one says it, everyone believes that Kasia, Agnieszka’s best friend, will be the one he picks. Yet it is Agnieszka the Dragon, reluctantly on his part. She is a witch, and her newly-found powers could be devastating if the corruption of the Wood reaches her. Agnieszka and the Dragon have a rocky start, but their mutual dislike of each other must be put aside when the Wood threatens her home. The well-developed characters, rich, Eastern European-inspired setting, and fantastic storytelling will leave you spellbound. 

The Tea Dragon Society by K. O’Neil

Half-human, half-goblin Greta is an apprentice blacksmith in a world where the old crafts are fading. Greta helps a lost tea dragon – a small dragon that grows tea leaves – find its caretakers, and she is introduced to the Tea Dragon Society. Like blacksmithing, the care and cultivation of tea dragons is a dying art. The Tea Dragon Society is made up now only of Hesekiel, his partner Erik, and a shy girl named Minette. As a year passes, Greta learns to care for the dragons alongside Minette, assuring Hesekiel that the Tea Dragon Society will go on. I’ve enjoyed O’Neil’s other graphic novels, and The Tea Dragon Society embodies so much of what I love about their work. The artwork is soft, with no heavy outlines, adding to the whimsical feel of the world. It features a diverse cast in a simple but visually beautiful story. The Tea Dragon Society is the graphic novel equivalent of sliding into a warm bubble bath…maybe with a nice cup of tea. 

Long Way Down by Jason Reynolds

Will’s older brother, Shawn, has just been murdered. Will knows the rules of his neighborhood: don’t cry, don’t snitch, always get revenge. Will takes Shawn’s gun, and take the elevator from his eighth-floor apartment down to the first floor. The doors open on the seventh floor, and Shawn’s friend Buck gets on. Except Buck shouldn’t be here – he was already shot to death. On each floor, another ghost gets on. All of them played a role in Will’s life, and all of them were victims of gun violence. Each tells Will their stories, challenging his resolve. Can he kill his brother’s killer? Should he? This is a short, intense novel in verse that will stay with you long after you turn the final page.  

  1. Yes, that is the correct pluralization. Octopodes is acceptable, octopi is right out.  ↩︎

Sep. 2025 Book Recs.: Hispanic Heritage Month

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.


And we’re back! Thank you to everyone who read my work for Flash Fiction Month.

September marks the beginning of Hispanic Heritage Month! Hispanic Heritage Month celebrates the achievement, culture, and traditions of Latinx Americans of Mexican, Central American, South American, Caribbean, and Spanish ancestry.

Hispanic Heritage Month officially begins on September 15, and goes until October 15. The mid-month start date is because many Hispanic countries declared their independence from Spain in September. Costa Rica, El Salvador, Guatemala, Honduras, and Nicaragua all declared independence on September 15, 1821. Mexico declared its independence on September 16, 1810, and Chile did so on September 18, 1810. Over 150 years later, years later, Belize would declare independence from Great Britain on September 21, 1981.


Nonfiction: Finding Latinx: In Search of the Voices Redefining Latin Identity by Paola Ramos

What does it mean to be Latinx? For journalist Paola Ramos, “Latinx” covers who she is: Latina, Cuban, Mexican, and American. But who are the millions of Americans who identify as Latinx? Ramos traveled across the United States to find out. She met with farmworkers in California, old friends in Miami, and Indigenous Maya communities in the Southern United States. She shares an iftar meal with Latinx Muslims in Washington, D.C. and cheers on an undocumented drag queen competing in the Miss Gay America pageant in Missouri. Ramos even sits down with Enrique Tarrio to try to understand what drove this Afro-Latinx man to the White supremacist group, The Proud Boys. (Note: Tarrio’s role in the Jan. 6 attacks is not mentioned. This book was published in 2020, and this chapter was likely written prior to the event.) Ramos gives readers a snapshot of the rich diversity of Latinx people in the United States, from the every day to the extraordinary. 

Fiction: The Inheritance of Orquídea Divina by Zoraida Córdova

Orquídea Montoya’s living descendants receive a mysterious message from the matriarch of the family: I am dying. Come and collect your inheritance. When the family gathers at the homestead in Four Rivers, but instead of dying, Orquídea transforms into a ceiba tree. Two of Orquídea’s grandchildren, Rey and Marimar, are left with flowers growing out of their bodies, as is Orquídea’s great-granddaughter, Rhiannon. The family is left with more questions than answers, with Marimar pondering Orquídea’s parting words: protect your magic. When a mysterious force begins tearing through the Montoyas, the family travels to Ecuador, Orquídea’s birthplace, searching for answers. Orquídea’s history unfolds in alternating chapters, with her story dovetailing beautifully with her descendents’ during the climax. This is an intergenerational story of magic, monsters, and family secrets coming to light. And if you’re a regular reader of this blog, you’ll see it has something rare: an omniscient narrator that I actually liked. 

BIDP: Magic Lessons by Alice Hoffman

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.


It’s time for another round of Books I Didn’t Pick, and we’ll be taking a step into a world of witchcraft with Magic Lessons by Alice Hoffman. Watching the movie Practical Magic has become a Halloween tradition for my sister and me. It’s a really fun movie, and we both like the strong bond between the two main characters, who are also sisters. My own sister gifted me Magic Lessons, the first book chronologically (but not the first written) in the Practical Magic series. 

I think I need to add a disclaimer here: I haven’t read the other books in the series, so my interpretation of things may not be accurate to the series as a whole. But as long as you’re not looking for deep lore analysis, pour yourself a cup of Courage Tea and get comfy.

Magic Lessons is the story of Maria Owens, powerful witch and matriarch of the Owens family. Centuries ago, Maria was scorned by a man, and cast a powerful curse: any man that loved an Owens woman was doomed to die. But who was Maria Owens outside of her curse? Who was the man who spurned Maria? And what happened to Maria after she was nearly hanged as a witch? 

The writing is beautiful. It goes into great depths to describe the details of life in the 1600s, and at times it feels downright cozy. Hoffman has done an incredible amount of research on the time period, and it shows. However, that research at times also gets in the way of the storytelling. The pages are full of history lessons, some relevant to the story, some not. Too much of this history is also given to the reader divorced from the story itself. For example, in the first chapter, the omniscient narrator tells the reader that 90% of women in Maria’s time were illiterate. The book gives us this actual percentage, rather than weaving it into the rest of the narrative. Several chapters start with the history of an area, but don’t add much to the story otherwise. The only “research dump” like this that was really relevant to the story was information about the Salem witch trials, though the characters had left Salem years ago by that point.

While the writing is lovely, the book can be achingly slow. This was because, in part, I had very few characters to cheer for. I liked Maria’s foster mother, Hannah, and Maria’s love interest, Samuel. However, Maria was a hard sell for me. Maria starts  as a perfect, precocious child who becomes a talented and powerful witch. The first three chapters dedicate a lot of time telling the re about how cool and special Maria is. I understood why, as Hoffman needs to establish Maria’s talents and skills, but it got tiresome quickly. I reached my breaking point in chapter three after Maria helps two of her friends deal with abusive husbands. Both of her friends go on to name their first daughters Maria “so that they said that name a hundred times a day with love and devotion.” 

The novel also uses real historical figures as characters, most notably John Hathorne, a magistrate of the Massachusetts Bay Colony and prominent judge in the Salem Witch Trials. In real life, Hathorne would ultimately sentence 19 innocent people to death for the crime of witchcraft. Presenting fictionalized versions of real people can be a delicate thing. Hathorne is given nuance, especially when he and Maria first meet early in the book. I liked that he was shown to be repressed by Puritan society. At that point in time, we typically think of women being repressed, not men. I appreciated seeing how such a strict religious society affected men as well. 

If you were looking for subtlety in the characters, you’ll be disappointed. The omniscient narrator tells you every aspect of their outer and inner lives, without leaving room for interpretation. While Maria and Hathorne have layers, they’re not gradually peeled back as the story progresses. Too often, we learn the characters’ thoughts and feelings through the narration, rather than their words and actions. When this happens, I feel like I’m reading a detailed outline of a story, but not really experiencing it alongside the characters. And, because I could rarely connect with the characters, Magic Lessons committed the greatest sin that any novel can commit.

I was bored. 

Since I didn’t feel invested in the characters, I needed a strong plot to make the book more interesting to read. As I mentioned before, though, the plot is very slow-paced. It was kind of like going fishing: the scenery was pretty, nothing would happen for a long time, and then you’d get a few minutes of frantic action. After the halfway mark, the plot became circular, with the main conflicts repeating themselves twice over. The climax was fantastic, but for the most part, getting there was a slog.

The novel suffers from prequelitis as well. Maria lays her curse because she has to, since it’s an important part of the books in the rest of the series. But the timing of it was terrible, because she fell in love just before the curse was laid. Towards the end of the book, Maria buys a house and sets up a trust so it will always remain in the family. That would be nice, except she buys the house in Salem. The place where she was scorned, nearly killed,  and full of people who want to kill her loved ones. So why does she want to buy a house in Salem? Because the other books in the series take place in Salem.1 Things happen because they have to, not because they make sense for the characters or the plot.

Obviously this wasn’t a great book for me. So it might surprise you to read that I’ve actually recommended it to a few other people. Well, to people who loved Where the Crawdads Sing. Much like Crawdads, the beautiful writing is what makes Magic Lessons shine. 

I’ve seen mostly positive reviews for Magic Lessons, which often cite the prose, the mother-daughter relationship, and Hoffman’s depiction of women as some of the strongest points in the book. I honestly don’t think that Magic Lessons is a bad book, so much as it is a bad book for me. It’s “no thoughts, just vibes,” and that’s not really the kind of story I go for. If that’s something you enjoy, and you like historical fiction (especially with a touch of magic), check this one out. I recommend reading on a rainy Sunday afternoon with a cup of tea.

Because I enjoy doing this, I have my chapter-by-chapter review below. I tried to not get too spoilery in the main review, but everything in the chapter breakdown is a big spoiler party.


  • Chapter 1: I like Hannah and the last scene was very good, but so much of this chapter feels like a research dump.
  • Chapter 2: I don’t really like omniscient narrators, but it’s not driving me crazy, even if it means there’s not a lot of dialogue.
  • Chapter 3: The book has started getting better, since it’s no longer all about how special Maria is.
  • Chapter 4: I’m really curious how the book will handle Hathorne going forward. I think it’s interesting that the author depicts Hathorne as repressed by Puritan society, not just repressed women.
  • Chapter 5: Faith continues the Owens tradition of “precocious child wise beyond her years.”
  • Chapter 6: Shit finally got real. Also, why are all but two men in the book utter scum? Martha’s husband could have been kind and died, and it wouldn’t quell her desire for a daughter of her own.
  • Chapter 7: This is a problem with prequels: Maria lays the curse because she has to, because it’s dealt with in the later books. But she lays the curse after she realizes she’s in love with Sam, so now the whole chapter is about how she can’t be with him, and it’s frustrating as all hell.
  • Chapter 8: The first two pages of this chapter are just history lessons that have nothing to do with Faith. Faith is a lot like her mom, which goes back to her being the “perfect child” trope. Also, Hathorne – real guy who sent real innocent people to their real deaths – has been given much more sympathy than the fictional Martha.
  • Chapter 9: Another frustrating chapter of Sam wanting to be with Maria, and her telling him no, then they sleep together anyway.
  • Chapter 10: Maria’s story is just more of the same; Faith’s the one I’m invested in now.
  • Chapter 11: …is Hoffman implying that Katherine Parr was not only a witch, but an evil one? Curious to see where the story will go now, as the biggest plot line so far has been wrapped up and there’s still 100 pages left.
  • Chapter 12: So much of this book has been about Maria looking for Faith, but we barely see them together once they’re reunited. Talk about a lot of buildup with little emotional payoff.
  • Chapter 13: I don’t like Faith, but I am 100% here for her seeking revenge on Hathorne. However, this circular plot is getting even more circular. We’ve had the will they-won’t they with Sam and Maria three times now, and now Faith and her mother are separated again.
  • Chapter 14: This is fine. At least the plot’s moving forward, and of course Maria is just the best writer ever. The Fall Out of Love Tea is a bit manipulative, though, if you ask me.
  • Chapter 15: Of course it’s Faith that ensures Hathorne will be remembered as a bad man, not just society in general thinking that killing innocent people is bad.
  • Chapter 16: Maria’s house is perfect, just like Maria. The epilogue still doesn’t tell us why Maria chose to settle in Salem, but it tells us every herb in her pantry and the outfit she wore when she sat for a portrait. Why. 
  1. The Salem thing bugged me so much I had to stop reading for a couple days. No, it’s never explained why Maria settled in Salem.  ↩︎

Dusty List: Into the Sublime

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.


I read a lot of YA books. I like them, and I’m also in charge of the YA section at my library. That means a lot of weeding, and a lot of ordering new books. 

I wrote a post all about how librarians decide what items to get rid of, but didn’t really talk about how materials get added to the collection. That’s because each library will handle it a bit differently, but there is one thing they all rely on: reviews.

I don’t mean reviews from Amazon or Goodreads, but professional reviews from sources like Kirkus or Library Journal are hugely important. Professional book reviews give a synopsis of the book, a sentence or two about the writing, and often a note about whether or not it’s worth purchasing. After reading the reviews for Into the Sublime, I ordered it, and put it on my TBR list. Thrillers and horrors circulate very well among teens at my library, and with the creepy cover art, I thought this one would be a hit. 

Two years later, it landed on an inventory list as a “dusty book” – that is, it’s been sitting at the library for two years and hasn’t been checked out. That usually means it’s time to “send it to a nice library upstate” ….aka discard it. No one wanted to read this book. 

No one, that is, but me. 

Welcome to the first edition of the Dusty List, reading the YAs that everyone else has overlooked. Let’s start the descent with Into the Sublime, a survival horror by Kate A. Boorman.

Amelie’s best friend was her cousin, Sasha. They were both part of Dissent, a group of teenage thrill-seekers who took on death-defying challenges. The group broke up after Sasha suffered a terrible accident at a Dissent challenge, but Amelie’s not ready to let it go. She wants to keep the promise she made to Sasha, and go on the adventure they never got to do together: finding a legendary subterranean lake, the Sublime. The legends say that the lake has the power to change things, and there’s a lot that Amelie wants to change. She and three other girls, Gia, H, and Devon, set out on a day trip to find the Sublime. Days later, Amelie and two other girls emerge from the cave, covered in blood. 

Only they know what happened in the dark. And Amelie is ready to talk. 

Into the Sublime is a framed narrative that starts with an email sent from Amelie to an unknown recipient, then the story jumps back to three months prior. Amelie is found in the Colorado wilderness, covered in blood, and the two girls who were found with her are being transported to the hospital. Two police officers watch over Amelie while they wait for her parents to arrive, and Amelie starts telling them the story of what happened. But how much of it is the truth? How much is manipulation? And what happened to the fourth girl? 

Using this framing device was a brilliant move for a number of reasons. First, it and the prologue email sucked me into the novel right away. Most of the story is told from Amelie’s first person perspective of her time in the cave. Between each section there are interludes written from the perspective of Officer Vargas, who treats Amelie with sympathy and suspicion in equal amounts. Vargas’s investigation reveals new information that Amelie hasn’t given us, which adds a few twists and ramps up the mysteries. It also serves as a break from Amelie’s story. The bulk of the novel takes place in the cave, and there are a lot of intense scenes. Cutting to the present with the cops gives readers a breather, and Vargas’s narration offers us another interpretation of all that Amelie’s said.

There’s another reason this works well for adult readers. For the first few chapters, you’re going to need to hit your willing suspension of disbelief button pretty hard. As with a lot of horror fiction, the characters make bad choices that lead them into dangerous situations. Yet knowing that trope wasn’t enough for me to overlook all the mistakes the girls made before they even reached the cave. Most of them were wildly unprepared to do a day hike, let alone any kind of caving. They fail to follow even the most basic safety rules when it comes to hiking, and even leave behind necessary supplies, like extra water and flashlights. 

I had to dust off my old psychology degree to get past that. Let’s take a quick peek into the teenage mind. There are two mindsets adolescents have that contribute to risk-taking. Of course, adults can also have these mental constructs, though typically not as strongly as a teenager would. First is the “personal fable.” The personal fable is, in TikTok speak, “main character syndrome.” Part of this is believing that bad things won’t happen to them. So, sure, just because Amelie’s cousin broke her neck during a Dissent stunt doesn’t mean that Amelie will. After all, she’s the one who came up with the plan. She’s got directions to the lake. She’s immune. 

The other mindset is called the “imaginary audience.” This is where you feel like the spotlight’s always on you. No matter what you’re doing, someone is watching. The “imaginary audience” doesn’t seem to have as much influence on Amelie’s and the other girls’ behavior at first, especially given the small number of characters in the story. But as the story unfolds, the reader can see how much Amelie’s perception of the other girls and their perception of her shifts the dynamics between the characters. 

I’ve said time and time again that the thing that draws me into a is the characters. Into the Sublime is an exception to that rule. Amelie and her companions Gia, H, and Devon are all interesting in their own ways, especially as they each have different motives for wanting to find the Sublime. But by the end of the book I didn’t like most of the characters, with the exception of H. At first I thought Devon, with her unique outlook, would be my favorite, but that changed by the end of the novel. 

Even if the characters were people I’d never want to be friends with in real life, I kept reading, because I just had to know how it all ended. The girls’ changing loyalties and motivations throughout the book ratchets up the tension until the very end, and keeps the reader guessing. 

I also really liked the setting. Most of the book, aside from the intervals with the police officers, takes place in the cave. Caving is challenging and often dangerous, even when you know what you’re doing. Getting lost, losing your light, bottomless pits, and squeezes could all end in disaster. The environment by itself is frightening enough, especially considering how unprepared the girls are. The scares only intensify with eerie encounters and dangerous changes in the cave. 

I do have a couple minor nit-picks1 other than what I’ve mentioned here, but overall I liked this book a lot. I think there is a bit of a high barrier for entry, especially for adult readers, but it’s a well-written, thrilling adventure. If you’re into survival stories with a bit of horror, check this one out. 

Literally check it out. It’s on the dusty list. 

  1. Very minor. Like, “why does so much of Gia’s dialogue end in a question mark when she’s making a statement?” nit-picks. ↩︎

Nov. 2024 Recs: Native American Heritage Month

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.


November is Native American Heritage Month! Native American Heritage Month was established in 1990 to recognize and celebrate the diverse cultures of Indigenous Americans. There are 574 federally recognized Indigenous nations in the United States. Native Land Digital contains a map which shows the original territories of Indigenous peoples across the globe. I encourage everyone to check it out and learn about the original inhabitants of your area. 

Nonfiction

Project 562: Changing the Way We See Native America by Matika Wilbur

“Representation without us is representation done to us.” With these words, Matika Wilbur introduces Project 562, a photojournalism project that shares the lives of Indigenous People across the United States. Traveling thousands of miles, Wilbur set out to interview and photograph someone from each Indigenous nation. (Note: when the project began in 2012, there were 562 federally recognized Indigenous Nations; there are now 574.) Wilbur’s portrait photography is gorgeous, each accompanied by the subject’s story: an Ojibwe man harvesting wild rice; Two Spirit powwow dancers; a woman recounting how boarding school has shaped her family for generations; the teen beauty queen who entered the pageant because everyone told her she wouldn’t win. This work captures the diversity of contemporary Indigenous people while honoring tradition and heritage. Wilbur’s beautiful work is not to be missed, and serves as a reminder that  “Indigenous existence is all around us. It is up to us to listen.”

Fiction

A Snake Falls to Earth by Darcie Little Badger

Nina, a Lipan Apache teen living in Texas, has family mysteries to solve. Specifically, the last story her great-great grandmother Rosita would ever tell her. There’s one big problem: Rosita told the story in Spanish and Lipan Apache, and Nina has no idea what she was trying to say. As she painstakingly works on translating the story, she discovers more mysteries. Did Rosita really see a fish-girl in her seemingly bottomless well? Why does Grandma get sick when she leaves the land that’s been in her family for generations? And are those mysterious people who come to her father’s bookstore really animal-people from the Reflecting World? 

Meanwhile, in the Reflecting World, Oli is a timid cottonmouth snake reluctantly forced into adulthood. After a rough start, Oli makes a life for himself. It’s not always easy, though he tries to steer clear of the catfish cultists and bear bounty hunters. When his best friend, a toad named Ami, falls ill, Oli is terrified that Ami’s species is facing extinction – a death sentence for the animal-people in this world. If he can get to the human world, maybe he can find out what’s happening to Ami’s species and fix it. With a pair of rambunctious coyote sisters and a red-tailed hawk at his side, Oli is ready to go to the ends of the earth (or fall to it) to save his friend. 

October 2024 Recs: Spooky Season

It’s spooky season! While I am not a huge fan of horror, I can appreciate how the genre can work on multiple levels. Scary stories are excellent ways to examine human nature and society…and perfect for keeping you up on dark and stormy nights. 

Nonfiction

The Poisoner’s Handbook:  Murder and the Birth of Forensic Medicine in Jazz Age New York by Deborah Blum

Prohibition-era New York City was a hotbed of political corruption, organized crime, and poison. Poison was a deadly fact of life, found in the bootlegged liquor of speakeasies, beauty tonics, and in the hands of impatient heirs and jealous spouses. New York City’s chief medical examiner, Charles Norris, set out to change things. With his assistant Alexander Gettler, the NYC medical examiner’s office became the birthplace of forensic medicine. Working long hours, they examined corpses, exhumed bodies, and invented groundbreaking new tests to identify poisons, and put poisoners behind bars. Each chapter is centered on a different poison: chloroform and cyanide to kill, methyl alcohol served in speakeasies, industrial poisons such as tetraethyl lead and radium, and more. The Poisoner’s Handbook is a perfect for lovers of true crime and science history, though there are moments where a strong stomach is helpful.

Lakewood by Megan Giddings

After the death of her grandmother, college student Lena Johnson takes over the role of head of household. Her mother, Deziree, suffers from a mysterious serious illness (or possibly illnesses)  which has racked up more medical debt than the Johnson family can afford. Sometimes, it’s a choice between paying for water or paying for medicine. When Lena gets invited to take part in a research study that pays beyond well and offers amazing health insurance for Deziree, she thinks she’s found her way out. Lena moves to the sleepy town of Lakewood to become a test subject in a secretive government research project. She knows that what she’s doing is risky, but she is willing to endure everything for her mother’s sake. When will the risks become too big, and what will the consequences be when they do? Drawing from the historical medical exploitation of BIPOC individuals (Lena is Black; the experimenters are all White), Lakewood is a slow burn horror that will get under your skin…in more ways than one.

Indie Review: OMG UR a Teenager!

I’m a Reedsy Discovery reviewer! I received a free ARC of OMG UR a Teenager! by Leslie Young for this review.

⭐⭐⭐⭐

Twelve-year-old Kat Cruz can’t wait for her next birthday. Before she can become a teenager, though, she’ll have to make it through seventh grade. The year starts off rough when her parents buy the most run-down house in the neighborhood, and a bully snaps a picture of Kat in front of her new house. She’s constantly stuck babysitting her younger brother, who thinks he’s a superhero. Kat’s editorials in the school newspaper make a splash, but not always in a good way. She’s also crushing on her new neighbor, Will, despite the fact that his mom doesn’t seem to like her. With new challenges every day, will Kat make it to her thirteenth birthday in one piece? 

OMG UR a Teenager by Leslie Young is a contemporary slice-of-life novel full of clear, crisp writing that makes it easy for young readers to get into the story. The relatability will keep them invested throughout the book. Kat experiences things that many kids going through pre-adolescence face: bullying, the excitement and mortification of buying your first bra, and changing family dynamics. Most of all, she wants to be seen as the mature nearly-teen she is, not a child and permanent babysitter for her little brother, Max. Tween readers will understand exactly how she feels, and adults will easily recall both the joys and pains of middle school.

Kat’s family dynamic is true to life as well, with well-intentioned parents who don’t understand their daughter’s point of view, an annoying little brother that Kat loves (even if she wants to kill him sometimes), and her vivacious grandmother whose Alzheimer’s puts extra strain on the family. Kat’s and Max’s relationship is developed particularly well, showing their closeness (especially in the climax), even if they don’t always get along. However, Gran’s storyline wasn’t as well-developed, making her inclusion in the book feel unnecessary.

At times the story can feel disjointed, such as an abrupt cut from summer to Halloween. Like Gran’s story, some plot points are dropped without a conclusion. Kat’s narration is also, at times, too mature to be realistic for a twelve-year-old. While adult readers might have to stretch their suspension of disbelief at some of Kat’s inner monologues, tween readers may find her insights useful in their own lives.

Overall, OMG UR a Teenager is a warm-hearted, relatable story for tweens, and anyone who’s ever been one.