Among the themes that recur in the splendid works of André Aciman (Enigma Variations; Find Me) is the belief that love is possible anywhere, and one should embrace it wherever one finds it. That's never been more evident than in the trio of unapologetically romantic novellas that constitute Room on the Sea. Another staple of Aciman's work is Italy, most famously in Call Me by Your Name. Such is the case again here, starting with "The Gentleman from Peru," in which eight young Americans staying at a hotel in southern Italy meet a 60-ish man who has the ability to heal people by laying a hand upon them. More mysteriously, he has a remarkable connection to one of the young women, of whom he claims to know "many things."

He sure does, and the revelation couldn't be more beautiful. Further delicate beauty infuses the titular work, in which a male lawyer and female therapist in their 60s, both married to others, meet during jury duty in New York and discover a mutual passion for Italy, and much else. The closing piece, "Mariana," is a jilted woman's lament, a letter to the man she met at a retreat in Italy. She's still smarting, she writes, from "the speed with which you flipped off the switch on me." Aciman is his usual urbane self throughout, discoursing on love's vicissitudes. "Sometimes striving is all we have," the therapist states. The perpetual striving for human contact assumes achingly definable features in this accessibly philosophical work. --Michael Magras, freelance book reviewer

Mark Kurlansky, perhaps best known for his impeccably researched nonfiction (Salt, Cod, and The Last Fish Tale), humorously and accurately chronicles the dramatic changes in Manhattan's Upper West Side during the 1980s in his sixth work of fiction, Cheesecake.

This vibrant, funny, and at times bittersweet story unfolds primarily through the eyes of the Katsikas family, who arrive in New York from a "small rock-bound Greek island." Two brothers--Art (born Achilles) and Niki (né Nikodemos)--and Niki's wife, Adara, open (what else?) a Greek diner on the corner of 86th Street and Columbus, and call it Katz Brothers. Art is the wheeler-dealer; Niki is "the seducer" host; Adara runs the kitchen and raises the goats that produce the diner's cheese at their home in Queens. Art has his eye on buying up real estate up and down the block; this eventually puts him at odds with his longtime diner customers, whose rents he raises.

These regulars add depth and dimension to the novel. Ruth Arnstein hands out treats for local dogs, alms for the street people, and breadcrumbs for the pigeons. Mimi Landau is a "long-established Upper West Sider" and former pastry-maker. Art's rent hike forces Mimi to move to Hoboken, N.J. But her old friend Gerta has a proposal that could bring her back (at least business-wise) to West 86th Street and restore its karma.

Longtime New Yorkers may feel wistful for a bygone neighborhood so lovingly rendered in Kurlansky's portrait of family-run bakeries, boutiques, and Barney Greengrass (still there); and others will enjoy this glimpse of a small town within a metropolis. --Jennifer M. Brown

Cookbook author, travel and food writer, and founder of Rosen's Cinnamon Buns Amy Rosen mixes food and fiction in her first novel, Off Menu. After the sudden death of her beloved grandmother, Ruthie Cohen's inheritance comes with stipulations: she has to use it for education, travel, or starting a small business. Growing frustration with her job working on a movie-info app that was supposed to be temporary and a night of wine and prosecco leads Ruthie to spend the money on culinary school.

A lifelong cooking hobbyist, Ruthie's culinary journey details her most embarrassing moments, such as showing up to her first class covered in V8 juice, and her significant accomplishments in the kitchen. But V8 isn't the most notable aspect of that first class: "Let's just say butter in a pan wasn't the only thing sizzling in my class today. I made eye contact with a guy named Jeff... Dear Diary, I loved the first day of my new life!"

Writing in charming, uninhibited diary entries, Rosen cooks up a menu of raw vulnerability paired with just the right amount of humor. The real stars of the show are Rosen's incredible descriptions of food; lemon meringue pie, lobster bisque, and French onion soup are a few of the utterly mouthwatering recipes folded into Ruthie's musings. Ruthie sprinkles sweet homages to her grandmother's many pieces of advice through her journey and dishes out her heart in this delicious read about deciding what and who is most important in life. --Clara Newton, freelance reviewer

Hannah Pittard's sixth book, If You Love It, Let It Kill You, is a quirky work of autofiction about an author and professor tested by her ex-husband's success, her codependent family, and an encounter with a talking cat.

Hana P. goes into a tailspin when she hears that her ex-husband's debut novel chronicles his marriage-ending affair with her dear friend. (That Hana wrote a whole memoir about said acrimonious divorce--i.e., Pittard's We Are Too Many--doesn't lessen the offense.) Researching her ex's career, Hana learns that he also published a short story in which she's "knifed to death by a homeless man." The news prompts her frenetic inquiry into the ownership of stories and life's possible routes.

Although Pittard (Visible Empire; Listen to Me) opens by declaring, "What follows is pure fantasy," her protagonist has a clear autobiographical heritage. Hana lives in Kentucky, with her divorced parents and sister nearby. She has a comfortable partnership with boyfriend Bruce, and a good relationship with his daughter, "the eleven-year-old." However, she's been texting with "the Irishman" and is tempted to resume their affair. Meanwhile, she's fending off the flirtatious attentions of a 30-something student.

With her affectations and unreliability, Hana can be a frustrating narrator, but the metafictional angle renders her more wily than precious. The dialogue and scenes sparkle, and there are delightful characters, including Hana's father, who's had five wives and starts microdosing psilocybin at age 80. Pluck any line and it's sure to be memorable ("I know my mother like the inside of my elbow"). This gleefully odd book is perfect for Miranda July and Patricia Lockwood fans. --Rebecca Foster, freelance reviewer, proofreader, and blogger at Bookish Beck

Korean author Kyung-Ran Jo and literary translator Chi-Young Kim collaborate again after Jo's English debut, Tongue, for Blowfish, a remarkably lyrical examination of the consequences after suicide, a tragic detail shared by two strangers who hesitantly develop a cautious bond. In alternating chapters, Jo achingly reveals their tragic pasts while building a multilayered connection.

She's a sculptor living in Seoul who has resolved to end her life. Accepting an art residency invitation in Tokyo provides the opportunity to avoid burdening anyone at home. She carries her chair to Ueno Park, where she's carefully chosen a Kwanzan cherry tree. Shockingly, she's greeted by her late grandmother. Her grandmother's violent suicide--by blowfish soup--has tormented her subsequent generations. The interruption delays the sculptor's plans, but she merely changes methods, embarking on a meticulous study of blowfish.

He's a Korean architect living in Tokyo. His travel between Seoul and Tokyo is a common commute. After making a phone call to the architect, "his brother had jumped to his death from his apartment window." The sculptor and the architect met briefly in Seoul, and he recognizes her when she visits Tokyo. For a time, that unexpected reunion engenders a tentative almost-relationship.

Initially published in 2010, Blowfish is composed with a simmering desperation Jo manages with impressive control; Kim is again a splendid translator. Jo's author's note mirrors her protagonist's "sadness and beauty and fear and death," as if the sculptor's longing to create despite everything else, is also her own: "What I want is a simple life, one in which I can think and read and write." Jo's complex exploration of living and dying becomes a mindful journey toward possibilities. --Terry Hong

Clever campus hijinks meet murder mystery in History Lessons, Zoe B. Wallbrook's debut novel. History Lessons follows Daphne Ouverture, the daughter of Ivorian immigrant mother and Louisiana Creole father, and a new junior professor at the prestigious Harrison University. Daphne is one of few Black people on the faculty and she specializes in French colonial history, so she's confused when she receives a strange text from Sam Taylor, a white colleague in the anthropology department with whom she's had very few interactions.

She deletes the text and doesn't think much more about it until the next day, when university gossip runs wild about Sam's murder the night before. Daphne wasn't a huge fan of Sam's, but she can't stop pondering his cryptic text. She realizes Sam may have been referencing an obscure French Guianese novel they had discussed, so she starts nosing around to see whether university politics played a part in Sam's death. After she gets hit over the head by an unknown assailant, however, both Daphne and the police realize that she's far more central to the case than expected.

Inventive and sure to make anyone with experience in academia laugh, History Lessons is an excellent debut. Fans of Kellye Garrett or Elle Cosimano will appreciate Wallbrook's witty banter and layering of humor with the macabre. The mystery plot is twisty, the colonial history is illuminating, the sly references to white bias in academia are funny, and Daphne herself is a delightfully verbose character, who will hopefully appear in more novels to come. --Jessica Howard, former bookseller, freelance book reviewer

El Dorado Drive is another stealthy-steely triumph from Megan Abbott (You Will Know Me; Give Me Your Hand; Beware the Woman), arguably the foremost living author of feminist noir.

It's 2008, and even before the recession, the auto industry's decline was hobbling Detroit and the suburb of Grosse Pointe, where the three Bishop sisters have fallen on hard times. Pam is suing her ex-husband for raiding their kids' trust funds and doesn't know how she's going to cover her son's college tuition. Debra is putting all her resources into her husband's cancer treatments. And Harper--single, gay, and employed at a horse stable--has a gargantuan debt that she's not telling her sisters about because of where she got the money. Still, Harper is skeptical--initially, anyway--of Pam and Debra's sudden evangelism for the Wheel, a secret women's investment club that enlists feminist buzz phrases ("female empowerment," "women helping women") but sounds an awful lot like a pyramid scheme.

El Dorado Drive comprises hundreds of short, tense scenes presented from Harper's perspective as she weighs what to say aloud and what to withhold--from her sisters, from the police when a grisly crime brings everything crashing down. Together, Abbott's brief scenes add up to a muscular plot that stutter-steps to its sublime, unforeseeable conclusion. Like the best noir, this one gives readers the thrill of watching from a safe distance as characters face tough choices, make the wrong ones, and give every indication that they will do so again. --Nell Beram, author and freelance writer

Someone is delivering flowers to a family in mourning at the start of Lisa Jewell's engrossing psychological thriller, Don't Let Him In. The delivery person seems to be an inconsequential character--so why is the chapter told from his point of view?

Because he's not who he says he is. With anyone. The man is alternately known as Alistair and Nick and Damian and Justin and Jonathan as he juggles multiple lovers and wives, some of whom he has children with. Each alias comes with a different job: life coach, wine bar owner, hospitality trainer. After his days-long disappearances, he comes home and feigns work exhaustion to avoid probing questions. The women accept his stories because he's "the perfect husband" when he's around--until he tires of them and leaves, for good, with all their money. When Tara, the woman "Alistair" married, decides she won't take it anymore, she discovers her husband is far from perfect. He might even be a psychopath.

Aside from chapters told in first person by the man, Jewell (Watching You; Then She Was Gone) also writes from the points of view of two women: Martha, the man's current wife; and Ash, a young woman who suspects her recently widowed mother's new boyfriend is bad news. While the women are vulnerable to flattering male company and trust too easily, Jewell also depicts them as strong and capable. Readers will root for them to excise the darkness that has infiltrated their lives, and pages will fly by as thriller fans race to see if an unctuous, toxic man gets his comeuppance. --Elyse Dinh-McCrillis, reviewer and freelance editor at The Edit Ninja

The endless search for Shawnee Connolly's sister Thea, a high school student who disappeared 16 years ago, plagues her family in Gillian French's propulsive debut adult thriller, Shaw Connolly Lives to Tell. The obsessive hunt has ruined Shaw's marriage; emotionally affected her two sons; engulfed her alcoholic father, Eddie; and alienated her youngest sister, Madison. Her trauma is acerbated by the constant phone calls from Anders Jansen, taunting that he killed Thea but refusing to say where she is buried. The frigid Maine winter enhances the chilling suspense as Anders's calls nearly push Shaw to the edge. Soon Shaw starts her own investigation and discovers secrets she didn't know about her sister. And as Shaw works the crime scenes of several seemingly unrelated fires through her job as a fingerprint analyst, she begins to realize she knows these sites and that they may be related to Thea's disappearance.

French skillfully shows how Shaw balances family life and her job with the all-consuming search, which includes weekend trips to search the woods. Eddie had Thea declared dead 10 years ago but still prints up "missing" flyers that he and Shaw regularly post. Madison refuses to help with the flyers, believing that if she stops, Shaw and Eddie will, too. Madison was only eight years old when Thea disappeared, and she's tired of "being defined by somebody who [she doesn't] even remember." French mixes a strong character development with a robust, incisive plot in Shaw Connolly Lives to Tell. --Oline H. Cogdill, freelance reviewer

Evander "Vandy" Myrick, the only Black private investigator in Queenstown, N.J., grapples with never-ending grief and her past, but doesn't allow complicated emotions to overwhelm her in the sharply plotted Death of an Ex, Delia Pitts's sequel to her 2024 novel, Trouble in Queenstown.

Vandy's visit to her daughter Monica's grave churns up longings for her late mother and her father, who no longer recognizes her because he has Alzheimer's disease. The past rears its head again later that night, when Vandy accompanies teenager Ingrid Ramírez to an awards ceremony at the homecoming gala of Queenstown's elite Rome School, where Ingrid is being recognized for academic excellence. The guest of honor is Rome's top donor, Philip Bolden--Vandy's ex-husband; they separated when she was pregnant with Monica. At the event, Philip drunkenly alienates Rome's headmaster and embarrasses his wife and son, Tariq, a star athlete and Ingrid's boyfriend. Still, Vandy remains attracted to Philip. Then his body is found near her office after they spend the night together. Now, Vandy declares, Philip is her client, and his murder becomes her new case.

Vandy effectively uses her grief as a tool in her investigation of Philip's murder, which leads her to examine his complicated home life, an academic scheme, and a Black church's fundraising methods. Pitts succinctly illustrates how small-town culture can fuel racism and forges a poignant plot that skillfully combines Vandy's personal turmoil and Queenstown roots with her professionalism and devotion to justice, shaped by her time as a police officer. --Oline H. Cogdill, freelance reviewer

A cavalry field doctor educated in the occult hires two killers to accompany her on a quest to undo a decades-old mistake: resurrecting her husband. Josh Rountree's The Unkillable Frank Lightning is a heart-wrenching, Frankenstein-esque novel set against a bleak backdrop of the western United States.

In 1905, Catherine Coldbridge sets out on a train to Texas with the Dawson brothers. No matter how much whiskey or laudanum she drinks, she is haunted by the memory of summoning her husband's soul back to his body and unable to shake the feeling that she touched "a darker corner of reality." Her only hope for atonement is to track him down with Cowboy Dan's Wild West Revue, in which he is performing as the Unkillable Frank Lightning. That is, if her magic will even let her untie his soul from his body again.

Chapters alternate between 1905 and 1879, when Frank was killed in a Sioux attack just two weeks after their wedding. Rountree (The Legend of Charlie Fish) skillfully builds suspense as he shares Catherine's memories of the horrific event that separated her from Frank after she brought him back to life. Tension mounts as he fills in the details of what happened before and after the resurrection until he finally reveals it on the page. With spare prose and a sympathetic eye, Rountree conveys the wild grief that drove Catherine to the resurrection, her later recoiling from those powers, and Frank's complicated emotions about being returned from death. The Unkillable Frank Lightning is for fans of dark westerns and classic retellings. --Kristen Allen-Vogel, information services librarian at Dayton Metro Library

A lawyer and a librettist discover that best friends make the best lovers in Mia Sosa's cheeky romantic comedy, When Javi Dumped Mari. Musical theater writer Javier Báez and successful lawyer Marisol Campos have been close friends ever since he caught her stealing newspapers during college 10 years ago--except for those six years he ghosted her because of his insecurity. And that one time, two years ago, when they reunited and their chemistry and unresolved feelings got the best of them and they slipped up and into Mari's hotel-room bed.

Since then, they've stuck to their pact that they would carefully vet each other's potential romantic partners. Javi has finally gotten his life together and plans to ask Mari to reconsider their decision to remain just friends, but Mari shows up to dinner with a man Javi has never met. Alex is Mari's colleague and new fiancé, and the wedding's in less than two months. Now Javi has to convince Mari she's making a mistake and that they should be together, while still being the best man of honor to Mari that he can.

Sosa (The Wedding Crasher; The Worst Best Man) delivers a true romantic comedy packed with laughs and longing. Her talent is on full display here: prose that pops off the page, and humor and characters that beg to be brought to the silver screen, or better yet, followed by a handful of sequels in which each of Mari's vibrantly drawn, hilarious friends will get their own happily ever afters. Fans of When Harry Met Sally and Alexis Daria will want to pick this up. --Suzanne Krohn, librarian and freelance reviewer

Laura Wood's charming second rom-com for adults, Let's Make a Scene, reunites two British former co-stars for a sequel to the Regency film that made them famous--with even more crackling chemistry this time around.

When novice actress Cynthie Taylor starred with Jack Turner-Jones in A Lady of Quality, the studio pressured the young actors to fake an offscreen romance. The result: wild swings between public affection, private animosity, and simmering mutual attraction. Thirteen years later, Cynthie is smarting from a scandal that could ruin her career when she gets another chance to act opposite Jack and fake a rekindled romance. As the two warily reunite, sparks fly--and this time, they might catch fire. 

Wood (Under Your Spell) packs her dual-timeline narrative with rom-com tropes, such as quirky best friends, life imitating art, Nora Ephron references, prank wars, scenes on horseback, and toe-curling kisses in the rain. But she also sensitively explores her characters' inner lives, including Cynthie's insecurities and fears of abandonment, and Jack's relationship with his famous (and famously snobby) film-star parents. Cynthie and Jack care deeply about their careers, and Cynthie must also navigate the blatant sexism (and worse) facing women in Hollywood and decide when--and against whom--to speak up. While convincing the public they're a match on and offscreen, Cynthie and Jack have to decide if their love will last after the final scene wraps. Wood's narrative is a love letter to Hollywood magic, second-chance romance, and the sweet ache of risking your heart. --Katie Noah Gibson, blogger at Cakes, Tea and Dreams

Boustany: A Celebration of Vegetables from My Palestine by Sami Tamimi presents a colorful profusion of recipe flavors anchored in traditional Arabic culture and re-created by the author to delight contemporary palates. The book features more than 100 recipes, each preceded by a brief explanation of its provenance, and visually striking photographs that will entice even the most reluctant cook into the kitchen.

A renowned Palestinian chef, restaurateur, and food writer, Tamimi was raised in the Old City of Jerusalem. With Israeli chef Yotam Ottolenghi, he co-authored the modern classic Jerusalem: A Cookbook and partnered to launch the immensely popular Ottolenghi restaurant group in London. The word "boustan" means garden in Arabic. In Boustany, Tamimi reflects on his grandfather's bountiful vegetable garden in the city of Hebron and draws inspiration from its memory to promote tasty plant-centric, vegan-friendly dishes, such as a "showstopper" asparagus, leek, and hazelnut galette and everyday comfort foods including Gazan fava bean falafel and sweet-potato kubbeh.

"The beauty of Palestinian cuisine lies in its versatility," Tamimi (Falastin) explains, and he encourages experimentation with his brunch-friendly ijeh (Arabic frittata), weekday dinner items such as celeriac and tomato bake, and an apricot and almond cake. Rice pudding is a popular Arabic dessert, and it's crafted here with a tahini base and grape compote. Boustany's spectacular selection of sweets also includes labneh and pomegranate ice cream and a surprisingly simple but scrumptious mango parfait.

Through his offerings in Boustany, Tamimi invites readers to experience the solace and comfort of cooking "even during the most challenging times." --Shahina Piyarali

Reading The Club: Where American Women Artists Found Refuge in Belle Époque Paris is like being slipped the password to a speakeasy or directions to an exclusive art show happening in a bohemian corner of Paris. The "Club" referenced in the title was a subsidized living and social space in Paris for young American woman artists of the Belle Époque era, prior to World War I. It offered young women a space of their own where they could pursue their artistic studies, and held luxurious common spaces of salons, libraries, and its own much-touted affordable restaurant, all located at 4 Rue de Chevreuse in the sixth arrondissement.

Art lecturer and ArtCurious podcast host Jennifer Dasal traces the origins and evolutions of the American Girls' Club for Artists under the steady hand of Elisabeth Mills Reid, a philanthropist and wife to Whitelaw Reid, the U.S. minister to France at the time, and Helen Newell, wife of the pastor of St. Luke's Chapel in Paris. The impetus for the organization was to keep these young women safe in what was perceived to be a somewhat dangerous and potentially corrupting urban environment.

Dasal paints an engaging picture deeply rooted in primary sources and with seamless integration of archival materials, personal letters, and contemporary accounts. This is a joyful and vibrant portrait of individuals with aspirations, struggles, and triumphs, whose stories Dasal makes resonate with contemporary readers. And it's an illustration of the profound impact that a secure space and community can have on the lives and careers of its members, which is as true now as during transformative moments in the past. --Elizabeth DeNoma, executive editor, DeNoma Literary Services, Seattle, Wash.

Leyla K. King's absorbing debut memoir, Daughters of Palestine, chronicles the stories of the women in her family against the backdrop of violence and upheaval in the Middle East. Drawn from King's audio recordings of conversations with her Christian Palestinian grandmother, Bahi, the book immerses readers in the lives of Leyla; Bahi; Bahi's mother, Aniiseh; and the other women in their family, contrasting intimate dramas of marriage and motherhood with the larger political landscape.

"We start with laughing now," King writes, quoting Bahi as they begin their conversations. While the narrative contains no small measure of grief--children separated from their parents, deaths of family members, forced immigration--King's memoir also shines with the quiet joy of hope and strong family bonds. As she traces her relatives' journeys from their hometown of Haifa to Ramallah, Damascus, Beirut, and eventually the U.S., King also records the shifting cultural mores that made it possible for her mother, grandmother, and other relatives to find love and build rich, flourishing lives. 

King, an Episcopal priest now living in Texas, connects her family's narrative to the complicated history of the Middle East, including the creation of the state of Israel, the civil war in Lebanon, and the impact of those events on Palestinian Christians. Through overlapping vignettes, she creates a colorful mosaic of her family's experiences, highlighting their courage, faithfulness, humor, and deep love for one another. Daughters of Palestine illuminates the Palestinian Christian experience and celebrates one family's resilience. --Katie Noah Gibson, blogger at Cakes, Tea and Dreams

A 2,600-mile journey in a 52-foot sailboat from the Caribbean to the Azores archipelago near Portugal is the gripping true-life story of Crossing by journalist and playwright Glyn Vincent. In the spring of 2022, Vincent and a good friend set off from the island of Saint Martin aboard their chartered sailboat, Orion, despite learning that the six or more crew they had initially been promised was now down to just four, including their affable yet odd captain, Dimitri. While the Orion and its crew navigated squalls and their own internal frictions, Vincent moves from present to past in alternating chapters that chronicle his love affair with sailing and boats. "Going to sea is a kind of obsession," and for Vincent, this "irrational leap" to sail across the Atlantic with two strangers was a way to connect with his parents, whose own itinerant childhoods in Europe and the Middle East eventually led to the U.S.

More than just a chronicle of a daring boat adventure, Vincent's memoir is an extended meditation on his upbringing and his parents' rocky marriage. His mother was the actress Betsy von Furstenberg and his father, Guy Vincent, an inscrutable man of "unrealized identities, lies, delusion, and violence." As the Orion sails straight into a tropical storm nearing the Azores, Vincent provides a fitting climax to his riveting adventure-story-cum-family-memoir. A wistful soliloquy on family and the crossing of troubled seas, figuratively and literally, Crossing: A True Story lingers with readers long after making it to port. --Peggy Kurkowski, book reviewer in Denver

In the quiet and reflective The Place of Tides, farmer James Rebanks (The Shepherd's Life) describes leaving his English countryside home for the tiny uninhabited island of Fjærøy, near the coast of Norway. He was there to spend a season with Anna Måsøy, a "duck woman" who traveled annually to the isolated island to continue her family's centuries-long tradition of harvesting rare, valuable eiderdown--the small, soft feathers from the breast of the female eider duck.

Rebanks first met Anna on a journalistic assignment and was struck by the transcendent septuagenarian "who had made a life on her own terms." Years later, Rebanks, feeling "unmoored, like a piece of timber drifting on the current," found his thoughts frequently returning to Anna, who agreed to let him work with her on her last harvest.

As he learned more about his teacher and the complex history of her community, he realized that although Anna "was not a poet... her poetry was her life, her work, and the depth of her love for the islands," and that he was gaining more than just the escapism that he had sought.

Rebanks's gentle, evocative writing truly shines, as does his ability to tell a story with unflinching honesty and empathy. In creating this contemplative portrait of a formidable woman and an ancient way of life, he came to comprehend that "Anna's example was simple: if we are to save the world, we have to start somewhere." --Grace Rajendran, freelance reviewer

"Every woman I spoke to had a story about how someone at some point made her feel badly for saying 'like,' " writes Megan C. Reynolds in the conclusion to Like: A History of the World's Most Hated (and Misunderstood) Word, effectively summing up what she has spent the preceding pages exploring. "Like," a maligned word that's often called ungrammatical, is also an exceptionally useful filler word and multiuse modifier. Full of interesting details, humorous asides, and vindication for all the readers who ever had a teacher put hatch marks on the board every time a student uttered "like" in class, Like is a cathartic, enjoyable, and accessible read.

Reynolds touches on such disparate topics as Valley Girl speech and podcasting as she explores the meanings and cultural impact of the use--or deliberate exclusion--of the word "like." She even asks, "Can we make a case for 'Like...' to be a full sentence?" In discussing the sexism associated with the disdain for "like," Reynolds brings up the word "dude," explaining that it's "as useful as 'like' and just as prevalent but receives very little of the vitriol reserved for 'like'--and, by logical extension, women." Furthermore, while it's commonly perceived as a female speech pattern, men use "like" just as often, if not more, than women.

Perfect for readers of Gretchen McCulloch's Because Internet (which features heavily in Reynolds's final chapter), Amanda Montell's Cultish, or Kate Kennedy's One in a Millennial, Like is more than an exploration of grammar and usage. It's, like, a love letter to the way teenage girls shape the English language. --Alyssa Parssinen, freelance reviewer and, like, former bookseller

Part haunting memoir and part insightful history, A Field Guide to the Subterranean: Reclaiming the Deep Earth and Our Deepest Selves by Justin Hocking (The Great Floodgates of the Wonderworld) demonstrates the inextricability of personal histories from events and movements that leave deep traces on the cultural and political landscapes of the 21st century. With deeply affective prose, Hocking digs into significant moments of his personal past, interspersing them with exposition of and ruminations about larger factors that played a role in his development and that of many other boys of his generation.

The book's three parts--"Subterranean," "Heights," and "Equatorial"--signal the trajectory Hocking took in his personal life: from the depths of trauma stemming from repeated instances of sexual abuse in his childhood, to the peak of confidence when he discovered the men's movement and pursued an identity as a truly "hard" man, and finally to an equilibrium, neither high nor low but balanced and healthy. Hocking's memories, recounted in short bursts without smooth transitions to passages about history, psychology, social movements, literary concepts, and more, capture the often-fractured experience of finding oneself in a world that bombards young people with all kinds of messages and destroys as much as it creates. For example, Hocking recounts the time when one of his teenage charges went missing on a wilderness trip in a disjointed, nonlinear narrative that's frequently interrupted by earlier memories and in-depth analyses of social phenomena. Though by no means free of fracturing, the book's conclusion offers a calmer interaction with the unevenness of life. --Dainy Bernstein, freelance reviewer

Chris Baron (The Gray) will leave readers both teary-eyed and cheering with his novel-in-verse Spark, which evokes the terror of wildfires and the hope of new growth.

Like all Californians, the residents of Redwood Hollows are intimately familiar with red-flag warnings and alerts for wildfires. They are so common that middle-school student Finn keeps track of fires by noting them in his field journal, a meticulous log of local flora and fauna. Then the alarm sounds: "LEAVE NOW-LEAVE NOW-TIME TO GO!" His family's escape by truck is "like being inside a movie/ or a painting/ of what it looks like/ at the end of the world." Swaths of Finn's small town are burned beyond recognition and fire haunts his dreams. Finn and his friends have hope an important part of their town may have remained intact: the Forest Heart, the old-growth forest at the center of the state park. But the forest is still in danger from construction that would make the fires worse--unless Finn and his friends can do something to save it.

This powerhouse novel uses short and accessible prose to evoke fear, rage, and purpose in the face of wildfires. Baron discusses the differences in how danger is faced and trauma processed because of culture and wealth: Finn's Jewish heritage, the disabilities and multi-racial identities of his friends, and wealth gaps all play roles in how characters react to and handle disaster. Though all animals and named characters survive, Spark may be too raw for those with wildfire experience or who are particularly sensitive. However, readers who want an empathetic and ultimately hopeful read will likely find both sorrow and inspiration in Spark. --Nicole Brinkley, bookseller and writer

In Christy Mandin's wondrous, magical Millie Fleur Saves the Night, the follow-up to Millie Fleur's Poison Garden, young Ms. La Fae employs compassion, care, and homemade moon pies to encourage every townsperson of Garden Glen to be a "friend of the Dark."

Every evening, residents of Garden Glen deploy houselights, spotlights, and lanterns to ensure their homes and gardens are safe from the "scary" and "dangerous" dark. Not so Millie Fleur, whose moon garden wasn't growing and who "hadn't seen a single night creature" since she moved to town. The Dark is always welcome in Millie Fleur's yard so the girl marches (moon pies in hand) to the edge of the woods to greet her old friend and many other creatures of the night. Spiders and bats, katydids and moles follow Millie Fleur back to her garden, which springs to life with their gentle activities. The sweet smell of night-blooming plants enchants her neighbors, but they will have to be brave and meet the Dark if they want to experience Millie Fleur's sparkling garden.

Mandin's enchanting sequel has all the charm and singularity of her first offering and allows readers to once again experience the eccentric perspective of her offbeat horticulturist with a penchant for the sweetly macabre. Digital illustrations are dark, fully saturated, and highlighted with whimsical touches, such as curlicues and faces on plants. Creative, unthreatening, and bursting with atmosphere, Millie Fleur Saves the Night should enchant readers of any age as it encourages them to face their fears and embrace the unknown. --Lynn Becker, reviewer, blogger, and children's book author

A young witch must learn to fly in this lovely middle-grade graphic novel featuring bouncy cartoon illustrations, lively magic, and an endearing girl finding her spark.

Jazzy is a young, brown-skinned witch with cute curls and a penchant for wearing purple. Her moms are the town broomstresses, carrying on a long tradition of handcrafting "besoms" (broomsticks). "When a witch starts flying, it's one of the most important days of their lives," Jazzy's moms tell her. But Jazzy doesn't feel like much of a witch: remembering spells doesn't come easy and her school flying lessons are disastrous. "It's like something is missing," she says, "but I don't know what." Then she discovers bicycle racing, and to her surprise, as she falls in love with riding, casting spells becomes easier and more natural. But she neglects her flying practice. When the school's flying parade arrives, Jazzy will either need to unlock her inner witch or admit to her moms that she still can't fly.

Jazzy the Witch in Broom Doom by Jessixa Bagley (Duel, with Aaron Bagley) is a delightfully wholesome and hijinks-filled story about discovering a passion. Bagley portrays through Jazzy's missteps and milestones how finding what she was "born to do" doesn't mean leaving behind friends, family, or legacy. Bagley's smoky digital art uses witchy hues (greens, purples, greys, yellows), bubble-lettered spells, and foggy backgrounds to create a lightheartedly spooky atmosphere. This is, luckily, just the first adventure for Jazzy and her utterly bewitching all-Black, all-female family. --Samantha Zaboski, freelance editor and reviewer

SF Said (Phoenix) manufactures an alternate London in which the British Empire rules the world and magical creatures may prevent ruination in the taut and lively middle-grade adventure Tyger, with atmospheric art once again provided by Dave McKean.

"Everything" about Adam Alhambra--"his skin, his hair, his eyes"--is "just a little different, just a little darker." Though Adam was born in London, his parents are "from the Middle East," meaning he is seen as "a foreigner" in his own city. When a robber chases Adam into an abandoned building, a creature "ten feet long from her whiskers to her tail" comes to his aid. She is a tyger and she is wounded. Adam is absolutely certain that "tygers are extinct" from human hunting but helps her care for her wound and returns later to check on her. This tyger is a "being of infinity and eternity" known as an "immortal" and she took this form while fleeing enemy agents. Tyger introduces Adam to powers he didn't know he contained in exchange for help escaping. Adam travels through every corner of London--and far beyond--in an attempt to save Tyger and potentially the world.

Said's alternative London is one where slavery was never abolished and a lack of the appropriate status is deadly. Magic, though hidden, is real, and relies on key internal concepts like "Perception" and "Imagination." McKean's stark and evocative black-and-white illustrations add tension and grim realism to Said's world. Those who value both Philip Pullman's Golden Compass and Kwame Alexander's The Door of No Return should certainly find something to appreciate in Tyger. --Kyla Paterno, freelance book reviewer

Middle-grade author Mari Lowe (Aviva vs. the Dybbuk; The Dubious Pranks of Shaindy Goodman) offers a profoundly nuanced speculative novel in Beinoni, an exploration of free will, tradition, and change through a distinctly Orthodox Jewish lens.

In 10 months, 12-year-old Ezra Safran will have his bar mitzvah and fulfill his destiny as the Nivchar, the chosen one. Then he will fight the gurya, a monstrous embodiment of evil, to preserve the Beinoni, "the in-between time, where no evil can endure." By all accounts, the world has been Beinoni for the past 70 years. Ezra, however, senses that something is wrong in both his insular community and in the wider world. He feels helpless in the face of bland reassurances from his father and other community elders--but Ezra soon realizes that if he doesn't start asking the important questions, no one will.

In Beinoni, Lowe explores Talmudic teachings and Jewish history in a modern context, deconstructing the "chosen one" narrative while pushing back against dogmatic traditionalism and encouraging intergenerational dialogue. The act of questioning is a central tenet of Judaism, and through Ezra's story, Lowe asks: If the world's people are to do good, should they not be given the opportunity to choose that path?

Beinoni is a unique urban fantasy featuring believable tween characters and dialogue. The multi-faceted, allegorical storytelling, however, may feel inaccessible for younger readers, especially non-Jewish ones. Certainly, understanding the history, cultural concepts, and layers of theological interpretation deepens one's appreciation of the narrative. But perhaps this is the best thing good literature offers its readers, whether over the course of a week or a lifetime: the chance to revisit, reinterpret, and discover anew. --Mariel Fechik, librarian, writer, artist