Older Readers
The Atlas of Us.
By Kristin Dwyer.
Jan. 2024. 336p. HarperTeen, $19.99 (9780063088580). Gr. 9–12.
Atlas has not dealt well with her father’s illness and death from cancer. Since then, she has made a string of poor choices, and as a result, she enters a community service program run by her father’s best friend, Joe, where the participants hike various trails in the Western Sierras while cleaning them up and repairing problem areas. They choose names for themselves that provide a break from their pasts. Atlas, now Maps, is assigned to a group comprising Sugar, another girl, and three boys: Junior, Books, and King. The hiking and the work are grueling at first, but the group forms a bond, with Atlas becoming drawn to King. As the end of the trail nears, Atlas tries to cope with the idea of leaving her friends and returning to her old life. Dwyer meaningfully shows how Atlas, who brims with pain over her father’s death, gradually learns how to live with her loss. The analogy of life as a trail that needs maintenance and care applies here, and Atlas learns that with both, you have to keep going. —Donna Scanlon
Beasts of War.
By Ayana Gray.
Jan. 2024. 448p. Putnam, $19.99 (9780593405741); paper, $11 (9780593700433). Gr. 9–12.
Gray brings it all home in this stunning conclusion to the Beasts of Prey series. Koffi and Ekon once again find themselves up against a powerful enemy, and they’ll need all the help they can get to save their land. Trekking across unknown regions, the two are joined by unexpected friends as they race against time to stop the god of death, Fedu, from recreating the world in his own image. Gray’s debut series has been such a delight to get lost in because of her dedication to world building and the care she has taken in sculpting her characters and their motivations, and this concluding volume offers a fitting ending to their stories. With a healthy mix of engaging characters, multiple perspectives, and all-knowing gods, Beasts of War never stalls, leaving readers with an epic fantasy that they’ll want to devour in one sitting. Satisfying, unique, and empathetic, this culmination of an impressive series is sure to satisfy fans. —Amber Hayes
The Boy Lost in the Maze.
By Joseph Coelho. Illus. by Kate Milner.
Mar. 2024. 320p. Candlewick, $19.99 (9781536236415). Gr. 9–12.
Poet Coelho has reimagined the Theseus myth using both formal and free verse. The conceit is that the story of Theseus is being written by a contemporary London schoolboy of mixed race, named Theo, as an assignment for his English coursework. There are numerous similarities between 16-year-old Theseus’ and 17-year-old Theo’s unfolding stories: both are searching for missing fathers and the meanings of manhood. The poems addressing these themes alternate between Theo’s perspective and that of Theseus, who is on a journey to Athens to find his father, the king, and along the way, besting the “murderers and cheats; thieves and monsters” that populate the road. Speaking of monsters: Theo gives readers the Minotaur’s backstory, making him not a monster but a sympathetic character. In structure, Theo’s challenges usually follow and echo those of Theseus: the story of Theseus and the bandit Procrustes is followed by Theo having to sleep in a too-small bed. Despite numerous challenges and disappointments, Theo persists, as does Theseus. While the mood is often bleak and the tone sometimes saturnine, the language is beautifully wrought. A nervous Theo is “a boy of fidgets”; “leaves listen to morning dew”; rain is “white satin”; a man listens “like mountains listen to snow”; and more. Besides being gorgeously realized, the story gets high marks for originality, which is high praise, indeed. —Michael Cart
The Breakup Lists.
By Adib Khorram.
Apr. 2024. 336p. Dial, $19.99 (9780593616390). Gr. 9–12.
Here are some things to know about highschool junior Jackson Ghasnavi: he’s gay; he’s hearing impaired; he’s half Iranian; he’s a theater kid; and, though he won’t admit it to himself, he has a crush on gorgeous Liam, the white captain of the swim team, with whom he’s sort of friends. And, oh, yes, he’s an inveterate list maker, whose sister, Jasmine, demands he make lists of the bad qualities of all her exes. When Liam, whom she’s been dating, breaks up with her, she demands that Jackson make a list about him. He reluctantly agrees, but, predictably, that’s a big mistake that threatens everything he has—not just his budding romance with Liam but his relationship with his sister as well. Khorram (Kiss & Tell, 2022) has written an irresistibly readable novel that builds on the tropes of a traditional rom-com. It has a carefully constructed plot (though there are a few implausibilities), empathetic and fully realized characters (Liam especially is more than just a pretty face), and sensitive treatment of Jackson’s disability. We’re already putting this on the list of the year’s finer novels. —Michael Cart
Bright Red Fruit.
By Safia Elhillo.
Feb. 2024. 384p. Random/Make Me a World, $19.99 (9780593381205). Gr. 8–12.
Samira is used to rumors. She’s spent her life surrounded by them in her close-knit Sudanese community. There, reputation is everything, and Samira just wants to be a normal teenager. When Samira’s mother gets a hold of an incriminating photo, Samira finds herself grounded for the summer, cut off from her friends and her summer plans. When Samira starts to post her poetry online, she meets a man whose insidious charm causes her to spiral down a path of deception and heartbreak. Elhillo’s novel is written in a combination of poetry, texts, and internet exchanges, a form that changes as Samira herself evolves. The clever integration of the Persephone myth highlights the inherent danger of girls coming of age in a world where women are often still seen as commodities. Samira’s journey throughout the novel is one of haunting self-discovery. The reader learns, along with Samira, that there is a necessity to community and family, even when those institutions themselves are flawed. In particular, we are able to see the viscerally honest rendering of the changing relationship between Samira and her mother. Elhillo has created more than a cautionary tale. Much like the tale of Persephone’s abduction, she has crafted a story that contains misery but, at its very core, harbors hope. —Nashae Jones
Clever Creatures of the Night.
By Samantha Mabry.
Mar. 2024. 240p. Algonquin, $18.99 (9781616208974). Gr. 10–12.
Mabry weaves dread through the air like smoke in this literary horror novel set in the aftermath of a cataclysmic natural disaster. Case arrives on the outskirts of her old Texas hometown, six months after a volcano has exploded, excited to visit her best friend one last time before leaving for college. But when she finds the dilapidated house Drea wrote to her about, there are only sullen roommates, strangely aggressive animals, and the everpresent stench of ash to greet her. Through dropped hints and hidden journal entries, Case begins to piece together the story of the last six months and why her best friend is missing. But tensions are rising and so is the river—it may be too late for any of them. Despite a slow first half, Mabry’s blend of gritty realism and ethereal fantastic elements create a spine-chilling read about our relationship with nature, the consequences of disasters, and our humanity in the face of them. —Ana Cackley
Dead Things Are Closer than They Appear.
By Robin Wasley.
Feb. 2024. 416p. Simon & Schuster, $19.99 (9781665914604). Gr. 10–12.
Ghosts of the long-closed magical fault lines are everywhere in the town of Llewellyn, called Wellsie; Sid just wishes they weren’t so figurative. Wherever she looks, she sees the ghosts of past relationships, like the best friend who took Sid’s crush and the ghosts of the Korean family she never knew, having been adopted by the very white and perfect Spencers. Brian may have it worse, though: his father died recently, and he’s become the kid everyone avoids because it’s awkward. When the fault line reopens and starts spitting out actual zombies, Sid, a horror-movie fanatic, is panicked, but after several days of no human connection, she decides to venture out. Then Brian breaks into her house, looking for her also-adopted brother,
