Did you know I’m a cohost on Book Riot’s “All The Books” podcast once a month? This is a neat and super challenging part of my job, as I read a ton of books for consideration. Some weeks I have an abundance of titles I’m ready to scream about, while other times, I have a hard time finding four that really speak to me. Those are the weeks I tend to remove myself from the reading equation and consider who it is the book is for and try to connect with it in that capacity.
I’m preparing to record March’s edition this week and thought it’d be fun to share the first eight books I’ve talked about this year. I try to be conscious of highlighting both fiction and nonfiction, both in YA and in adult and middle grade. Since I don’t tend to write reviews here much, this feels like a way to give some reviews without, well, having to write up a ton of reviews.
There’s a little bit of something for every kind of reader here. All of the books are available now.
January Picks
You’re Not Listening: What You’re Missing And Why It Matters by Kate Murphy
There are shelves and shelves of books about communicating, how to give a speech, how to negotiate, how to be effective in relating to others verbally. But so few take on what Murphy does in this book: listening.
When’s the last time you really felt listened to? What made you have that feeling? Chances are it wasn’t someone interjecting their own experiences or sharing an anecdote that may or may not be related to what you shared. Rather, what made you feel listened to was what the listener brought to their engagement: curiosity. This, Murphy says, is what makes someone a great listener. They don’t one up or interject. They don’t parrot or offer hollow sentiments back. Rather, they engage with curiosity, asking questions that encourage the speaker to dig deeper.
Every page of this book was fascinating and engaging, and it made me think a lot about the role of listening in everyday communication. It also made me think a lot about online communication and really cracked open what makes some social media tools like Twitter great for broadcasting, but ineffective for real conversation. Listening cannot happen because people can too easily forget that listening involves engagement, rather than inputting their own ideas or thoughts without quiet, even prolonged, thought.
I found one of the sections about conversations with strangers surprising. I’d dread listening to a seatmate talk on a commute, but the study cited and explained here that people who really practiced listening to their seatmates rated their commutes better than those who had silence. The right kind of listening, and the right kind of curiosity, can take a potentially dreadful situation and make it something to look forward to. People are interesting, and it’s through listening that we get to discover that fact.
As someone who does life coaching, I find that people seek it out is for coaching, of course, but also because the coach is trained in how to really listen. Conversations are about inquiry and curiosity, as opposed to offering a solution to whatever it is someone brings to the session. The ways forward are forged in co-creating solutions, and that co-creation comes from active listening and inquiry, and how often do we ever get the chance to truly be heard in such a way? It’s rare.
Data can be helpful in many arenas. It can be combed and culled online. But it’s no substitute for real listening, as data isn’t vulnerable. And it’s vulnerability that connects us to one another, and real vulnerability is about allowing the space to listen, to thoughtfully inquire, and to allow quiet and space and pauses in conversation.
Highly, highly recommended. I don’t hold on to many books I get for review, but this one is going in my professional collection because I know it’s one I’ll want to reference and lend out.
Black Girl Unlimited by Echo Brown
This fabulist novel is going to be a powerful read for many, while it’ll be a bit confounding for others. This is why it’s quite magic. The audience will find it and connect deeply.
Echo is growing up on the East Side of Cleveland with her mother, who is addicted to drugs and who is the victim of sexual assault, along with two bothers, one of whom lands in juvenile detention for a period of time. But she’s exceptionally resilient, and part of that is because she’s really a wizard. She can turn every day situations around using the power of her mind. She can choose to tap into the darkness and black veil that surrounds everyone or she can turn toward their lightness. Echo strikes up a friendship with Elena, a white-passing, queer hijabi, and together, they use their wizarding powers to help Echo’s brothers see their own potential.
But then something tragic happens to Echo and she sees herself in her own mother’s shoes. She’s detached from reality, from her world, and she doesn’t know if she has the power to go on. Until she remembers the power she has within her and discovers a passion for words, for poetry, and for wanting to rise from her situation and live her best dream life.
Told in a non-linear fashion, this is a book about literal Black girl magic. It’s about race and poverty, about intergenerational trauma, and about the ways Black women have always been systemically oppressed. Echo herself is dark skinned and experiences not only racism, but also colorism; this becomes a huge challenge for her when she’s given the opportunity to thrive in a new living situation, where she sees what looks like a healthy, functioning interracial relationship.
Brown’s debut novel is about Black pain, but it’s also about Black magic, Black resilience, and Black lives that can thrive, even when the world around them wants them not to. It’s a challenging read for all that we see Echo and her family go through, as well as how Brown chooses to tell the tale in disparate timelines and in vignettes. The payoff, though, both for Echo and for the reader, is more than worth it.
We Wish You Luck by Caroline Zancan
Told through a collective voice, this is a slow-burn story that is a telling of a story of revenge. It’s the first residency for a class of MFA writing students at a small college in Vermont (think: Bennington). Everyone is feeling one another out, making choices about who they’d be connecting with over the course of these residencies. But there’s one new teacher, an ingenue, who immediately commands everyone’s attention.
As the story goes, Simone — this new teacher — tore apart one of the new students’ writing to the point he was crying. That he felt he could do no good. It was a brutal critique that eventually led to Jimmy doing something drastic. . . that brought about his fellow MFA peers to seek revenge upon Simone and unravel the truth of her “genius.”
This book takes a while to get to what’s going on, but Zancan’s writing is immersive, atmospheric, and easy to stick with. Interestingly, this is the second MFA-set book I’ve read this year, and it, too, is a clever take down of the systems and privilege within such programs. It’s a take down of the academicification of creative writing and a sharp critique about the ideals of good, worthy story telling.
Stick with this one and you’ll be rewarded with a revenge that is clever and downright enjoyable.
Saving Savannah by Tonya Bolden
The increase in the number of YA historical novels featuring teens of color at the center, and more specifically, girls of color at the center, is making me so happy to see. Bolden, who is a long-time writer for young people, brings readers to 1919 Washington DC in this story about an upper class black girl who wants nothing more than to make something interesting of her life.
Savannah knows she’s privileged in her wealth. But she’s worried she’ll never do something important or powerful in her life. Her brother has moved to New York City and has a photography shop, and she’s bored by her long-time friend and neighbor Yolande. When the housekeeper’s daughter steps in to clean the Riddle’s home, Savannah forms a quick bond with her, and it’s through her she finds her way to a school on the other side of town that helps less-privileged girls gain a solid education. Here she volunteers, but more, it’s here she meets someone who introduces her to the concepts of radicalism, socialism, and anarchy.
It’s 1919 and while the Great War is over, and the Spanish Influenza is waning, race riots are heating up. Savannah, now pushing herself outside her comfortable area in DC, finds herself seeing and being too-close-for-comfort to experiences that put her life and future on the line. After one particularly close call, she expects to be reemed out by her mother and father. And it’s here when Savannah learns about the incredible young life her mother had and how, even though it doesn’t look like it, Savannah’s mother longed for — and found — a purpose and meaning to her life. This ultimately helps Savannah understand what it is she wants to do herself.
The third-person narration is refreshing in YA, and the exploration of such a specific historical moment through the eyes of a privileged Black girl is one that kept me hooked. Savannah is keenly aware of the politics going on around her, including the Anthony Amendment and the protest happening by Alice Paul and other white feminists to secure suffrage. Savannah is keen to the fact it’s for white women and that that couldn’t be what her deeper purpose is in terms of doing something important with her life.
The author’s note in this one is a must-read, as it really offers a picture of this historical moment in a perspective I’ve not seen before. Too often, we only hear about the stories relating to poor and hurting Black people. This story, as well as those stories from which Bolden was inspired, are a reminder of how deep and wide the Black experience was throughout all historical periods.
February Picks
Yes No Maybe So by Becky Albertalli and Aisha Saeed
Jamie’s cousin is running for a local election seat and he’s been roped into helping with the campaign. Canvassing and going door to door is the last thing in the world he wants to do. Maya, whose parents are in the midst of a “trial separation,” meaning that their normal ways of practicing Ramadan and celebrating Eid are out the window, feels unmoored and abandoned by her best friend — she’s preparing to go to college and doesn’t seem to be around for Maya any longer. When she bumps into Jamie, who she hadn’t seen since they were kids, he convinces her to join him canvassing so they can catch up. Maya isn’t stoked, but she’s game — besides, it’ll get her mind off things and, when she tells her mother what she’s doing, she’s presented an offer she doesn’t want to refuse: if she participates in helping with this election all summer, her mom will help her get her own car.
It’s far from smooth sailing and Jamie and Maya go door-to-door, especially in more conservative areas of their district. An Islamophobic House Bill, paired with a local anti-Semitic campaign, puts the two of them in a unique position, not just of fear and hurt, but of the potential to encourage big change with their work canvassing and much, much more. Together, they agree to work hard to get Jamie’s cousin elected to office, to take down the discriminatory House Bill, and shed light on who is leaving their hate around town.
This is a romantic comedy packed with big, real issues at heart. Jamie and Maya are both tentative about who they are individually, who they are collectively, and who they are in the grander scheme of the political realities of their world. Maya is Muslim, and Jamie is Jewish, and we see how their faith plays into their every day lives and how many ways they can make mistakes with one another in terms of honoring those beliefs. But they learn — and they learn which rules and practices are worth breaking in the name of their beliefs…and their feelings for one another.
At times this book is laugh-out-loud funny, and both Maya and Jamie have a fondness for spending time at Target that’s extremely #relatable content. They’re both passionate and hard-working, despite how many challenges are going on in their personal, private lives. It’s not going to necessarily end the way that they want things to with the campaign, but that’s not to say that change doesn’t happen…or that their relationship will suffer because of it.
Full of heart, thoughtful explorations of current political realities, and well-rounded and compelling characters, this book is a delight to read. Saeed and Albertalli’s styles mesh well, and the perspectives they bring to their characters is authentic and meaningful. One of my favorite characters is Jamie’s grandmother, who is an Instagram fanatic and sensation. She’s a total delight through and through, and I love how she’s given her own plot line and chance to be a hero in the story, too.
This fast-paced book is a winner.
The Falcon Thief: A True Tale of Adventure, Treachery, and The Hunt For The Perfect Bird by Joshua Hammer
Talk about a breathlessly-paced adventure story that is 100% true. This is the kind of bloodless true crime I find utterly fascinating and engaging, and this book would be a perfect one to pass along to fans of The Feather Thief.
In May 2010, Jeffrey Lendrum was arrested in the UK at an airport after a security guard in one of the lounges thought something suspicious was going on. Lendrum had left his partner in the lounge while he went into the bathroom for twenty minutes. The guard went in after and noticed nothing had been touched while he was in there — no shower, no running water. But there was a suspicious looking egg in the garbage can. Before long, it was discovered Lendrum had numerous eggs secured to his body, along with numerous eggs in his luggage. These were the eggs of falcons, each of which — were they to make it alive to his destination in Dubai — would net him a lot of money from political leaders in the region who practiced the art and sport of falconry.
From here, the book follows the rise of falconry in the middle east and how it ties into their history, as well as how it is Lendrum got caught up in the theft of some of the world’s most rare raptor eggs and how he traversed some of the most dangerous places in order to steal the eggs and make a profit. It’s a fascinating and infuriating story, not only because of how it plays into disturbing nature and causing further harm to hurting species, but also because of how Lendrum’s passion for nature went so off-course from his boyhood days in South Africa.
Books that marry true crime and history like this scratch such an itch for me. This one, besides its obvious exploration of theft of eggs, has some moments of animal harm, but it’s one I think those who are sensitive to that might be able to stomach without too much problem. Hammer offers a fair assessment of why Lendrum would partake in such illegal acts, while balancing the history and legacy of falconry in the middle east. It’s not an apology nor excuse for his behavior; rather, it’s context and conjecture for the whys, particularly where Hammer was unable to get the information first-hand.
I blew through this one and will forever look at birds in a new way.
Turtle Under Ice by Juleah del Rosario
Ariana has disappeared. Her sister Row is first to discover this, but she can’t find any clues as to where she might be. Told in two voices in verse, this is a heart-felt story about grief and the ways it can manifest and emerge so differently for everyone.
When Row and Ariana’s stepmother loses her 12-week pregnancy, Ariana spirals into grief as the wounds of losing her mother six years prior — and being the person with her as she died. Row, too, finds sadness welling up inside her again, but she takes it out by turning deep into her love of soccer. For her, whenever she’s on the field, her mother is right there with her.
With the help of her friend Kennedy, Row begins to look for her sister, and it’s here we see the wells of her sadness emerge, particularly as Kennedy gets overbearing in relation to why it was she didn’t know Row’s stepmother had been pregnant.
Ariana’s voice is present in this story, though it’s told primarily through flashbacks. She’s hopped on a bus, and we know there’s a piece of artwork in her lap. A few stops in, a former best friend gets on the bus, and she begins to share the story of the dissolution of their once-close connection. Ariana wanted to be so mired in her grief she couldn’t understand that other people, including this friend named Alex, deal with their personal losses in different means.
Row finds Ariana, and the end of the book is a beautiful reflection of friendship, sisterhood, and the ways that loss and sadness can tie and unite people, as much as hurt and divide them. Rosario nails grief so perfectly, offering up the ways we can be cruel and isolating toward others, as much as the ways we can seek the comfort of a loved one through the things we cherish. For Ariana, it turns out, art is therapeutic in a way that she never anticipated until Row shares how much pouring herself into soccer has meant her mother is with her always.
The verse is well written and the story is tightly told over a period of less than a single day. But within that day, we see a large expanse of life for both Row and Ariana. Both are girls of color who are part Filipino, and their ethnicity is something that furthers the power of exploring grief here — it’s not something palatable, clean, easy, and consumable like the white media and “research” suggests it should be.
This one hit me in some tender places, as I deal with a big loss in my own life. I felt both girls’ pains deeply and saw their methods of working through it as part of my own, too. This is a quick read, but it is in no way a slight one.
The Rise and Fall of Charles Lindbergh by Candace Fleming
My knowledge of Lindbergh is pretty limited, other than knowing he had something to do with flight and that there was the Lindbergh Baby situation. I went into this book, though, wanting to know more about those, but more than that, I wanted to see how Fleming took his story and made it relevant today. Because this is a book less about Lindbergh’s story ad more about how he became such a celebrity in the American eye and had influence on a number of political situations in the 30s and 40s.
Fleming gives insight into Lindbergh’s privileged childhood on the Mississippi River, where he had a politician for a father and an extremely doting mother. His mother was so dotig, in fact, when Charles decided to attend college at the University of Wisconsin in Madison, she went went him so they could live together. He didn’t last at the school long, as tended to be his way with formal education. He was fascinated with flight and realized he wanted to learn to do it. So he attended a flight school and eventually took on a mail route between St. Louis and Chicago. It was here he realized a new dream: be the first trans-continental flight, going from New York to Paris. When he’s successful, he becomes more and more well-known, to the point where he and his family need to relocate in order to achieve any semblance of privacy. He, of course, loved it even if he pretended otherwise, but it was this fame that led to his one-year-old son being kidnapped and murdered.
Lindbergh and his wife Ann were both making names for themselves when they moved to the UK, and it was here when Lindbergh became fascinated with the Nazi regime in Germany. Turns out, he was a eugenist, and the Nazi’s showmanship of Berlin, the way their country “looked” to him, was what he believed an ideal world looked like. Nevermind that he’d been fooled by the Nazis. Being a eugenist, he already believed in white supremacy, and this only helped fuel his racism and bigotry harder. Lindbergh returned to the US and found himself able to rally supporters for his “America First” beliefs — sound familiar? — and take on a role in America’s entrance into World War II in an unexpected way.
Fleming’s book is fair, offering the good Lindbergh offered, as well as the reality of the dark side of his character. He’s neither lauded nor chided. He’s presented as he was, and the story is utterly compelling. My one little quibble is that at the end of the book, details about some other scandals in his life are rushed. It’s likely the information isn’t easily available, but I wanted to know way more about the three (!) secret families Lindbergh managed to have and keep secret from his wife Ann and their children. I’d have loved, too, a little more about where he stands today in the public eye, though I thought the way Fleming made his story parallel today’s celebrity politicians savvy and spot-on.
This is excellent YA nonfiction. It offers a fair and full look at a complicated individual without offering sympathy or excuses for his less-glamorous beliefs or behaviors. The photos in this book only make it that much stronger, too.