My 9-year-old and 7-year-old boys loved this fantasy series that’s loosely based on the early life of King David. In this final book, Aidan Errolson must come out of hiding in the Feechiefen to face the impending downfall of King Darrow. The only question is will Darrow take down Corenwald with him? Well, we know that Aidan won’t let that happen without a fight, and we know that he has what it takes.
This book has some of the best Dobro moments in the series. He’s such a funny character, and my boys have now incorporated a new inside-joke phrase into their repertoire: “Time to leave these neighborhoooooooods!” For whatever reason, that one stuck.
This book also has a few very touching moments that made me choke up. No spoilers.
A few thoughts on the series overall:
1. There are almost no girls in the series. My boys did not comment on this or bat an eyelash. They are boys and love reading about boys. Girl readers, though, may notice. This book contains a few girl characters—rich ladies from Tambluff, including one spirited young woman who can match Dobro stride for stride.
2. The series focuses so closely on Aiden that the worldbuilding and external plot feel rather loose. It’s rather like the first Narnia book. We don’t get a lengthy deep-dive into the lore of the land, nor do we get our specific questions answered. We just take things as they come at us. This is largely the same. Although it’s a fantasy, don’t expect the granular detail or tightly woven fabric of a series like HP.
In fact, Rogers seems to intentionally go in the opposite direction, dedicating whole chapters to tree-chopping contests, feechie ballads, and other seeming side notes. Often, these colorful scenes were favorites of my boys. They are young and always up for a laugh.
3. In case you’re wondering, as I did, how far into David’s life this series goes, it focuses on David’s early life: facing Goliath, King Saul’s paranoia, Jonathan’s friendship, and going on the run with his followers. There is no Bathsheba character nor any intentional murders. Also, it’s not a beat-for-beat retelling. It’s inspired by King David, not based on him.
A SMALL SPOILER: I will say that I find it incredibly interesting that Rogers chose to make the feechies and civilizers long-lost relatives. They both descend from the same mainland tribe. The feechies came to the island first, and the civilizers came much later—so much later that they didn’t recognize any shared history with the feechies. Far from being two separate peoples, they discover that they are, in fact, one. I find spiritual significance in this.
My boys laughed along with this one even more than the first. They thought the feechiesing was the best thing in the world. They utterly connected with the rudeswaps and wrasslin’. They thoroughly enjoyed this second installment and are ready for book three.
I thought this book had a nice, tight structure. It’s a there-and-back-again story, where Aidan’s loyalties are tested to the max. This book reflects on King David’s time in Saul’s court, when Saul fell into depression and paranoia. Thankfully, Aidan doesn’t spend the length of the novel in King Darrow’s castle. Darrow sends him on a death mission—fetch a mythical flower from the depths of the Feechiefen. Darrow hopes that Aidan will fail and never return.
But, as we know, Aidan has what it takes.
He is an aspirational figure for kids to look up to. In this book, he faces the foe of disillusionment. I was happy with the moral of the story—you can’t be happy if you refuse to live in the grace you’ve been given.
There’s no reason why I should’ve liked this book, but I did!
I think portal fantasies work well for kids. You know…Narnia. But for adults, it’s hard not to make them cheesy. In this novel (which started as a podcast series) Andrew Klavan owns up to the cheese.
The main character, Austin Lively, gets unaccountably transported from contemporary Los Angeles to a medieval fantasy kingdom. The only thing that connects the two worlds is a mysterious book. I can barely type it without cringing. It sounds so bad. But Klavan miraculously handles it in such a way that it’s not cheesy after all. He writes in first-person, and Austin’s voice is so strong, so crass, so humorous, and so typical of what you’d expect from a Hollywood hack, that the authenticity of it works.
I sped through this novel not because this is my kind of book but because Klavan is a great writer. He writes legitimately good prose. He had me hooked on the unraveling mystery. I cared about the foolish protagonist and wanted him to win despite his many flaws. I became intrigued by the layers of powerful people involved and wondered what it all meant.
Overall, this story is about a young man who is underperforming in every area of life with no incentive to better himself. How do you take someone like that and transform him into a selfless man of stout heart and right belief? From what I know of Klavan, he believes this is an actual problem in society right now. How can men become men again?
This whole book is kind of a content warning. There is a lot of foul language and violence. There are some scary images, but I’m a wuss, and I did fine. There is a fade-to-black sex scene. Women are praised for being traditionally feminine. I have no problem with this because I embrace traditional gender roles, but I can see why modern tastes may find this unpalatable.
Do you have a kid who hates change? They will understand Lydia. She loves her home in Mulberry Glen, where she lives with a philosopher, a fairy, a cook, and a pair of mischievous twins (a young boy and girl). Why would she ever want to grow up and leave this safe, cozy place?
But, she must. Lydia must start an apprenticeship if she wants to become an herbologist one day. Lydia is like Jo March on the brink of going to New York.
But before Lydia is assigned an apprenticeship, something else happens that forces her to leave even earlier than expected and not on safe, predictable terms.
There is a Darkness that’s spreading from the forest of Tenebrae, and rumor has it that the only thing that can vanquish the darkness is a flower called Omni Res Mundi (Latin translation: “everything in the world”).
Lydia teams up with some colorful characters to accomplish her mission and (maybe) vanquish the Darkness for good.
There is a great discussion here about what it takes to beat back “the dark.” So many of us struggle with dark thoughts, depression, despair—and other people seem to be happy as clams, so why aren’t we? How do you stop those dark thoughts from spreading and taking over? This is a timely topic but one that’s as old as time.
This book offers an answer to this question, and I agree with the beautiful message. I hope that a lot of kids and young people take it to heart. It’s the truth.
To parents of sensitive kids: Even though this book ventures into the darkness, it isn’t dark, so approach it without fear.
As someone who isn’t familiar with Latin, I hope they include a translation page somewhere in the front or back matter.
I had the itch to read sci-fi earlier this month, and so I thought, “Hey, the Expanse was pretty popular, and I’ve never read anything by these authors before, so why not start with book one in their new series?”
I made it halfway through in order to give the book a chance, but then I decided to call it quits. I may go back and listen to the rest at some point, but the first half wasn’t compelling.
The premise reminded me of the story of Daniel in the Bible (not exactly, but kinda). A powerful and power-hungry galactic civilization conquers a smaller planet (not Earth) that’s populated by humans, and they only let the cream of the crop survive. They bring these people into their regime, and the humans destroy the enemy from within. It sounded good!
I think the primary reason I wasn’t engaged is because I wasn’t crazy about any of the characters except maybe Dafyd. There were so many I wasn’t sure who I was supposed to care about most. I couldn’t visualize them, and I kept confusing them at first because they didn’t have enough flavor to distinguish themselves from each other. When characters are good, I can tolerate a blah plot, but I didn’t connect with any of them here.
Also, I didn’t connect with the enemy race, the Carryx. They are loathsome, insectile creatures who don’t understand humans. They deal with their newly captured subjects via proxies that can communicate with them, sort of. It would’ve been more engaging if the enemy wasn’t so hard to understand.
Another thing. I listened on audio, and the narrator wasn’t my favorite. I read the first chapter in print before I switched to audio, and I did enjoy that first chapter. It’s possible that the narration just wasn’t my cup of tea, and that could’ve colored my experience.
This middle-grade fantasy feels a lot like The Giver (one of my all-time favorites). Our 12-year-old protagonist, Aster Temple, lives in a tightly controlled and enclosed community called Hargrove, where people live in fear of getting caught. Doing what? Dreaming.
In Aster’s world, having dreams is a crime that gets you banished. Aster’s dad is an inspector who arrests and banishes dreamers through the Red Door, a magical portal around which the settlement is built. And Aster is a dreamer.
There you’ve got the premise.
I loved Aster’s emotional progression over the course of the novel. She starts as a pretender—it’s how she survives. She pretends to be confident and innocent, two things she isn’t. Inside, she’s weak and ready to do anything to save herself from discovery, from banishment, and from harm. She ends the novel willing to sacrifice her own safety to help others. She discovers peace and humility.
This is a refreshing take on the super-kid trope. I didn’t get the impression that Aster reaches deep within herself to find the strength to vanquish her foe. She does it because she is thinking more about others than herself. This is one of the book’s great strengths.
There are a few things that I wish were more fleshed out: I wish the book dove deeper into why dreamers are persecuted. I wish we knew where the Red Door came from. What’s the logic behind what’s behind the Red Door? (Yes, you DO find out!)
Overall, this is a great book for the younger side of the middle-grade age spread. Kids who aren’t quite ready for The Giver.
I enjoyed this book more than The Green Ember and On the Edge of the Dark Sea of Darkness. This swampy fantasy was just as entertaining for me as it was for my 7- and 9-year-old boys. After we finished this one, they immediately asked if we could start book two in the series.
I must say this upfront. I obtained the NEW, redesigned hardbacks. They are gorgeous. The cover is lush. The interior black-line illustrations are wonderful. This new edition is worth buying in print, just FYI.
This is a middle-grade retelling of the story of King David. Aiden Errolson is the David character, and when this book opens, he’s 13 (I could be wrong). He’s the youngest son of a lord, but he spends most of his days tending sheep. He longs for adventure and greatness. But…when Aiden has greatness thrust upon him, it doesn’t look or feel as grand as he dreamed. But, as the feechies say, Aiden has what it takes.
Ultimately, this is a story about having what it takes. It’s aspirational for kids. Can they rise to the challenges that everyday life throws at them? Aiden’s example can inspire them to do so. Aiden is flawed, but he’s also heroic and worth looking up to.
This book parallels David’s early life and culminates in the defeat of a giant and the thwarting of an invading enemy. (Just in case you want to know the basic roadmap.) But, there’s a lot more here than a beat-by-beat retelling. The feechiefolk add a lot of color and humor, and I’m interested to see what role they end up playing in the trilogy.
Overall, I think this is an amazing book for young readers, and we’re already a handful of chapters into the second book and enjoying it just as much.
This was solid Christian historical fiction with a heavy helping of romance. You’ll like this book if you enjoy Francine Rivers.
This book is titled The Pesant King, referring to Cyrus, the historical leader. But the book isn’t about him as much as it’s about a young Jewish woman and a half-Jewish, half-Gentile young man and the people associated with them. They find themselves wrapped up in the warring of nations, and they do great deeds to influence the outcomes. Not in the background but very much in the forefront, they fall in love.
Like I said, this was solid. I enjoyed it, and there was plenty of action. I wasn’t crazy about it. I feel like it might’ve been a good book at the wrong time for me. I did feel like the book needed one more editing pass. Just a few nuances of wording, repeated words, etc. that jarred me.
How big of a role does the romance play? Big. It’s not spicy or distasteful at all, but it’s the driving force behind the story for sure. The good news is that there’s a lot going on in the background behind the romance—plenty to keep things interesting!
What kid wouldn’t be fascinated by the idea of a whipping boy?
My boys, at ages 9 and 7, loved it. This was the perfect tiny book to slip in right before the start of the homeschool year. Plus, lots of good vocab.
I’m giving this book a lot of stars, but it’s not the end-all, be-all in children’s literature. Still, I loved the morality tale it presents.
We’ve got two main characters, Prince Brat, a terribly spoiled royal child. Then, we’ve got Jemmy, his whipping boy. Whenever Prince Brat gets in trouble, Jemmy gets a whipping (because it’s against the law to lay a hand on a princely hide.) Of course, this is unjust, and kids can see that right away.
In the dead of night, Prince Brat decides to run away because he’s “bored.” He commands Jemmy to go with him. They are terrible runaways and get kidnapped immediately by two highwaymen who stink of garlic. They meet a girl with a dancing bear and a potato seller and a rat catcher, and it’s all good fun in medieval times.
There’s a hearty moral takeaway and plenty of vocabulary words tucked into the narrative and strong historical flavor. But it’s mostly a growing-up / unlikely friendship story that I think will appeal to my boys when they’re a tad older.
This book is set in a mid-century modern Great Britain. So, think cars, cigarettes, socialites, mobsters, schoolboys, and landline telephones. It’s oh-so nostalgic and gritty. The book’s cover has more of a middle-grade vibe to it, but this book falls squarely into YA.
What makes this prosaic world magical? There are two brands of magic in Kazanjian’s alternate history: Alchemy and Illata. Some people are born with an Illata, which can be anything from the ability to unlock doors to the ability to cut off someone’s air supply. You can’t control what Illata you have or if you have one at all. Alchemy is learned magic, something that non-Illata-possessors practice at school and learn from teachers, but it’s a lot more difficult to master than Hogwarts-style magic. And schools are expensive, so Alchemy tends to be the magic of the rich.
I must say that I was completely charmed by the book’s ether. I loved the seedy underlord’s domain and the corrupt upper crust and the powerless kids caught in between. It felt very much like those hard-boiled detective novels, where things could go sideways at any moment.
The plot was simple and moderately paced. It may have benefitted from a faster pace and more subplots, but I will say that the climax of the book was “big” enough to be satisfying.
I’m not sure if this book is the first in a series, but it ended on somewhat of an unfinished note, with the core cast of characters returning (sort of) back where they started with a new goal. I’d love to know if Owl’s Nest has requested a sequel for this one, because I’m here for it.
There is no romance in this book, as is commonly expected in YA, just friendship. There is no gross violence, and there may have been a cuss word here or there, but there may not have been. There is adventure-style peril that doesn’t venture into the gory or morbid.
I can honestly say that I’ve never read a fantasy world quite like this one. The planet of Lyra never experiences day. There is only night, where the moon, called Selene, provides some light, and then Darknight, a pitch-blackness that’s dominated by the Void, an evil blight that is slowly devouring Lyra.
Lyra is a moonlit planet. Think glowing mushrooms. Floating jellyfish. Foxfire dust. Barnett has dreamed up a literal “dream” world that evokes a sense of glittering night, without feeling “dark” as in evil.
Lyrians are trying to heal the Void by harvesting magical threads from human dreams. Nova, our protagonist, is a young harvester, and one day, she meets a boy in a dream who recognizes her. He shouldn’t even see or sense her presence. But he knows her name!
This is the entry point into Thread of Dreams. I will say that there’s a decently steep learning curve when it comes to this fantasy universe, but the author does a great job of sprinkling the world-building throughout the book, helping you along. But there were times when I forgot what a certain thing was…maybe a glossary for the second edition?
I loved the character dynamics. Nova has an older sister, Cally, who has taken care of her since their parents died when they were kids. The bond of sisterhood is strong with this one. There is a core group of young people who must do great deeds to help save Lyra. I don’t want to spoil anything. All I’m trying to say is that there is a nice plot-character balance here.
You’ll love this if you want a YA fantasy that includes adventure and romance but that doesn’t involve graphic violence, sex, or profanity. There IS romance here, and Nova is pretty young, just thirteen when the book starts, but she ages to sixteen (if I’m remembering right) by the end. I feel that this is a nice choice if you have a teen girl who is hankering after romantic books but you don’t want her to read anything icky.
Meet the Author, Emily Barnett Check out the interview I did with Emily over on Library Binding.
If you want something done right, you’ve got to do it yourself—even if that something is revenge
Yippie-i-oh, it’s a western. Here’s the story of 14-year-old Mattie Ross, a precocious and unflinching girl who is bent on avenging her father’s blood.
She hires Marshal Rooster Cogburn to track down her daddy’s killer—because he’s a “shoot first, ask questions later” type guy. Ranger LaBoeuf also wants to track down the killer to collect some big-time reward money. The three of them journey on horseback into the Wild West in pursuit of the outlaw.
Why is this a classic? The characters. The mix is pure joy. Mattie is sharp-tongued and shrewd, and she has more grit than anyone. Rooster is an immoral drunk, but he discharges his duty where Mattie is concerned, and he has a (non-icky) soft spot for her, due to her spunk. LaBoeuf is a dainty braggart who shows himself worthy of his own high praise—coming through in the clutch.
Everyone is a complex, contradictory mix of good and bad, and when you throw them together—SPARKS.
Mattie’s verbal fencing is the best, and her inner monologue is just as entertaining. This girl is a Piece Of Work, and it’s fun to watch her doggedly badger people into doing what she wants and how she’s determined to have her way in every particular. But she’s not a machine or a rock—she’s soft in her own way. In many respects, this is a coming-of-age story that takes the shape of a quest.
I listened to the audiobook read by novelist Donna Tartt, and it was good. The Jeff Bridges film is perfection and quite faithful to the text!
Content warnings: There is much talk of killing, shooting, drinking, and gambling, but we don’t see too much of this action on stage. There is PG-13 action-related violence. There is surprisingly little profanity and almost zero sex in this book.
It’s the year 2025, and the bloodshot eyes of the U.S. are glued to screens…
If there is one book genre that I actively avoid, it’s horror. I’ve never read a Stephen King novel in my life. TOO SCARY.
But, when I stumbled across this thriller written under his pen name for Signet, I thought…okay, I can probably do it.
Stephen King is skilled and prolific. I wanted to read him, and this seemed like my best shot of not being scarred for life.
This book was published the year I was born, and it portrays the year 2025—next year, at the time of this review.
In King’s dystopia, the divide between the “haves” and “have nots” in the U.S. has grown into a chasm. Every home is required by law to contain (get this) a Free-Vee. (I have a similarly named app on my television.) Programming is dominated by reality TV—game shows in which people compete in all manner of deadly games in hopes of winning prize money. Contestants are largely comprised of the have-nots.
Our protagonist, Richard, is one such contestant, driven to apply for TV so that he can earn money to buy real medicine for his baby, who is sick with the flu.
Because he’s smart, Richard gets picked for the highest-rated show on TV, The Running Man. Here’s the game: Richard runs for his life, and Hunters try to kill him. He earns money for every hour he stays alive. Stay alive for 30 days, and you win. Nobody has lasted more than eight days.
Sound like the Hunger Games? Yep.
The ending is hauntingly reminiscent of something that ended up happening in real life nearly 20 years after this book rolled off the press.
It’s crazy how many of King’s presentiments have come to pass. The book’s government is irreparably corrupt, and the networks are out for nothing but profit. Today, don’t we feel the same way about Washington and Silicon Valley? People are doping themselves to avoid reality—with entertainment and pot, whatever you can afford. Sound familiar? Everything from the air to the food is polluted. Uncanny.
Content warnings: The entire book is a content warning. There’s foul/offensive language with no filters whatsoever. The book mentions every vice you can imagine, although there’s comparatively little that’s graphically portrayed on the page. There’s no horror, just thrills. Clean? No way. But King knows his Bible, and there are references sprinkled throughout, so there’s that.
How did Santa Claus get to be Santa Claus? Here’s a cute origin story for ya.
This was pure fun. It’s an origin story for Santa Claus, as imagined by Matt Haig, author of The Midnight Library. There’s nothing about Jesus or the reality of Christmas—just the North Pole characters associated with the secular winter holidays. Despite lacking any faith element, it’s a cute, heartwarming story that reinforces the value of life, looking on the bright side, and finding joy in giving to others.
My kids know that Santa isn’t real. Every year, we read Gail Gibbons’s book “Santa Who?” because it discusses all of the different traditions and legends that have contributed to who Santa has become, starting with Jesus Christ, then moving to Saint Nicholas, and then beyond. We treat Santa as a character more than anything—like the Grinch or Scrooge. We visit Santa at the annual Christmas tree lighting. We lay out cookies and milk. I don’t want to deprive them of any childhood magic. But I’m not going to lie and tell them he’s real when he’s not. So, this book provided some Santa fun, and I felt that it helps to reinforce him as a fictional character vs. a reality.
We listened to the audiobook narrated by Stephen Fry, and it was adorable. He reads like Jim Dale, doing all the voices.
Content warnings: Nicholas is mistreated and betrayed, but there is nothing troublingly graphic here. I also want to emphasize that this book is secular and unconnected to any other Santa myths that I know of. There is no mention of religion of any kind, not even St. Nicholas.
This is my first time reading Adam Roberts. I knew upfront that this is a novella and not a full novel, but I found myself wishing that it WAS. The premise is tight-packed—a hitman takes the job of kidnapping a girl on Mars and returning her to her mother on Earth. Bit by bit, Roberts reveals more, but I wish it had been developed into a full novel. I wanted to know more about Hi’s backstory, and I wasn’t sure why the novella ended the way it did.
Hi is the hitman. (How does his name relate to the word “High” as in the title? Welp, it’s the title cut in half…not sure what that means.) A wealthy NYC woman hires Hi to extract her daughter from her ex-husband’s lavish home-compound on Mars. Hi takes the job, but he’s got his own motives for doing so (not purely monetary). Probably shouldn’t give any more away.
In short order, we get a sense of this vast future world and how it works on a solar-system-level. Lots of neat techy gadgets. I wanted more.
I wanted more character. Hi is like a machine, but I wanted to know WHY he was this way. The rest of the characters have strong flaws and motivations, and I wanted more from that—I wanted them to intersect and clash.
The voice…it’s been a long time since I’ve read something written in such a nontraditional style, using second person and direct addresses. Who is this narrator?
Overall, this was intriguing for me, someone who isn’t sci-fi savvy at all.
Content warnings: There was a smattering of foul language, PG-13 violence, and non-graphic sex. Not what I’d call clean, but also not gross.
Don’t confuse this with Walter Tevis’s chess novel. It’s completely different.
I adored The Q, so I’m making Beth Brower’s books a priority. This one is far less complex (and much shorter) than The Q, but it’s still a worthy read, especially if you love character-driven royal dramas with lots of politics.
The bountiful land of Aemogen is a self-contained country that has little to do with the surrounding nations. When Imirillia, a battle-hardened nation to the north, declares war on the soft Aemogen people, the queen, Eleanor, must figure out how to ready her peaceful farmers for war against a foe that is more numerous and skilled than they can ever hope to be. It’s like The Shire vs. Mordor.
She finds unexpected help when Wil Traveler, a wandering soldier, arrives at court. Asking him to train her troops is a gamble, but she takes the risk.
This book moved slowly, without too much high action. This first installment in the series is more about establishing character dynamics, which, I’m sure set the stage for the second and third books. The characters are good—flawed and riddled with issues. There is also a lot of worldbuilding to clue us in on the traditions and ethos of the two warring nations. I think this is important to know going in.
There’s also a slow-burn romance that is not cheesy. Executing a romantic subplot without cheese on top is no small feat, but I love the way Beth Brower approaches it. You can hand this to any teenager without fear. It’s clean as a whistle without feeling sanitized.
This book doesn’t provide a ton of closure at the end. It doesn’t completely satisfy as a standalone book. The external plot wraps up, but the internal plot is just getting started, so you do feel compelled to read the next book. That’s also important to know going in.
I’m notorious for reading the first book in a series and never continuing. But, I might just keep going with this YA medieval adventure!
An unlikely crew of young people must save the land from an evil sorcerer
The setting for this story is really refreshing. I haven’t read anything with quite this mix. Here, in the first book in the series, we start in a seaside industrial town. Then, we’re on the road with a circus. Then, we’re in a dark, fantastical wood. Then the open sea. It’s not typical medieval times in Hibaria.
I enjoyed Cora as a heroine, but I think I liked Will more. He was much spunkier, and Victoria was a tortured soul. But Cora makes sense as the protagonist because she has the most growing to do.
I know that authors sometimes fear dumping too much worldbuilding on the reader, but, because Hibaria has such a unique mythos, I kept forgetting certain aspects that popped up later, such as the role of the constellations and Augrind’s backstory.
Even though this is the first book in the series, and it ends with setup for the next book, there was good closure here. No cliffhangers, just a few twists.
I think that kids around 12 and up would enjoy this, and the morals are sterling.
An unskilled young boy is forced into a quest where he must face menacing, magical foes
My 7- and 8-year-old boys REALLY enjoyed this. This is the first book in a fantasy series in the tradition of LOTR (the parallels are unmistakable). So, it would be a fun series for kids who aren’t quite ready for Lord of the Rings yet—or, on the other side of the coin, kids who have read LOTR (bless them) and want something that feels similar.
This book is a rescue/quest. Taran, our preteen hero, has just one job: keep the magical pig in her pen. But, when an evil warrior and his minions ride into the vicinity, the pig runs for her life, and Taran runs after her.
The story starts quickly and there’s swift pacing throughout. By chapter two, we see Taran plunge into the forbidden woods after the pig. From there, he meets many friends and foes. He’s tested and transformed. It’s got everything you want in a medieval adventure.
The reason why I gave it four instead of five stars is because the climax was a bit soft, and the ending abrupt. This is the first book in a series, so, hey, there’s more! But as a book in its own right, the ending was a bit wah-wah.
Content warnings: There are the normal swordfights and battles that you’d expect in a book like this. The description of the Horned King (pictured on the cover) may be a little much for sensitive kids. There is one quick mention of the bad guys making human sacrifices (gross). And one of the female foes has a particularly wicked interaction with our main characters…but it’s easily self-censored if you’ve got littler kids listening.
A cup-loving small-island girl is forced out of her comfort zone to rescue her true love in a fantasy world where pirates roam the spore seas
Brandon Sanderson wrote this book for his wife, Emily, and he wrote it in secret, without telling a soul except her. He wanted to write something that would entertain and delight her. In his Postscript, he said he wanted to write something free from business constraints and fan expectations. His goal? A fairy-tale-adjacent story that appeals to adults. Something with a similar feel to The Princess Bride and Good Omens.
The result? Pure FUN. As I was reading, I could feel how much fun he was having. The book feels light and effortless, even though it ventures into grave danger and looks into the face of evil. Like Bride, it’s making fun of itself slightly. Like Bride, it doesn’t feel dark. In fact, it’s downright optimistic.
If modern writers can draw any conclusions from Sanderson’s experiment, it seems to me that writing free of business and fan pressures is a great place to start. Sometimes, when I’m reading a book, I can sense the social and political stress that the author was feeling—make sure you check these boxes…definitely can’t say X, Y or Z…just go ahead and sanitize the book of any real meaning, but fill it with messages that have been approved by the culture at large. Kay?
Those books confuse me. But books like this ring clear as a bell. And I absolutely adored Hoid’s narrative voice, and, can I just say, Sanderson is a genius to include a world-hopping character like this in all his books. Talk about giving your fans something to discuss forever and ever amen.
Content warnings: There are the usual things you’d expect with a swashbuckling rescue story, such as death, fights, and such. But there is nothing overly graphic. Very few curses (if any) and no sex.
Everyone’s favorite assistant pig-keeper is off on another adventure, but this one will test him to the core.
Dilemmas. That’s why this book is so good. The characters are faced with one impossible choice after another until the very last chapter. My boys and I really enjoyed this second installment in the Prydain Chronicles.
The evil Arwan is gaining power. To stop him, Gwydion gathers a crew of loyal Prydainians to sneak into his fortress and steal the black cauldron—the wicked pot he uses to create undead warriors for his army. Naturally, everything goes wrong, and Taran must learn what it means to make hard choices—all by himself.
This book was better than the first one, and I think it’s worth reading the first book in order to experience this sequel more richly.
This is HIGH fantasy in the same vein as Tolkien. It’s hard to miss the parallels between LOTR and these books. But, these books are much shorter and accessible to a younger audience. My 7- and 8-year-olds wouldn’t be able to read them solo, but they can understand them perfectly well when I read aloud (and clarify some of the high-brow vocab). The books are written in a lofty, grand tone.
Again, this book was great because of the series of difficult choices that the characters faced. I felt like the plot was tight and economical. Overall, YES.
Content warnings: Nothing overly concerning. Several characters die, and one must sacrifice him/herself in one scenario.
Reading this at night as a fabulous yet decidedly middle-aged mommy who is worn-out tired by the end of the day…I will admit that I found myself nodding off during the first half of this book.
But the second half is worth it!
It’s been a long time since I’ve read a kids’ book with such a grand payoff at the end. I almost don’t want to write anything more so that you can enter this book as blindly as I did.
Now, I will say that the first line of this book is a knockout, but after that, I was a little disoriented and unsure where it was all going. It took me a few chapters to get my bearings and figure out which characters were important. This book isn’t nearly as disjointed as Everything Sad Is Untrue, Nayeri’s debut. It’s much more cohesive with a linear plot and all that. It just took me a bit to sink in.
The plot picks up greatly after we learn that Samir, who is not the protagonist, is being pursued by several colorful bounty hunters. What could be a tense chase is rendered by Nayeri into a thumping frolic along the Silk Road.
I’m a sucker for a solid theme, and this book has one. Friendship and family—what are they, and is life worth living if you have none? What are friendship and family worth, and what would you trade them for? The worldview is not overtly Christian, but there is good moral soil here.
HOWEVER, this book does not shy away from the truth that people are complex. For example, Samir is kind and loyal, but he’s the folkloric version of a used car salesman, exaggerating and outright lying on the regular. Most characters are a mix of good and bad, which makes them interesting, but some young readers will need guidance here.
Content warnings: Samir is almost assassinated six times, but these encounters are not overly gruesome or graphic. As long as your kids are mature enough to understand what a bounty hunter is, then they’ll be fine. Some parents will want to know that a mix of faiths are shown here, and none with great reverence. Samir often lies that he belongs to a certain religion so he can butter up a customer. I find this good material for age-appropriate discussion with kids.
Wow. I inhaled this trilogy, and I’m very picky when it comes to my teen dystopias. This series has a lot in common with The Hunger Games, but it’s much less depressing. In fact, it is incredibly life-affirming. But it’s most definitely for teens—no younger.
So, we’ve got a strong female lead, who lives in a futuristic society that’s tried to rid the world of inequality by making people the same—as “same” as they can get them. All aspects of life are controlled by the powers that be. Our young, female protagonist works as a Breeder. Her job is to birth babies for the new world. You already recognize a slew of elements from other popular YA books, right?
Well, something happens to our main character, Pria. She begins to feel discontented with her “perfect” life. She begins to ask questions—gasp! This puts her in danger, and she must face the truth about her society and the role she plays within it.
The strength of this series is the plot and pacing. It’s tight and effortless to read. There is a satisfying character-driven B plot.
Honestly, if you’ve got a thing for YA dystopia, this series is a really great choice!
