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.
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.
A gentle, heartwarming tale set in the Grand Canyon
I dislike animal protagonists, so I need a compelling reason to read a book that centers on an animal. What prompted me to pick this one? 1. Because it’s set in Arizona. There are so few books set in my state. 2. The many great reviews. 3. Brighty the burro existed. I’m more interested in animal stories inspired by real-life animals. 4. It’s short, and I figured we could start and finish it during a long road trip I took with my two boys. We did!
Bright Angel is a donkey who lives in the Grand Canyon circa 1910. He befriended an old prospector who nursed him back to health after a porcupine attack. The wise prospector never tried to “own” Brighty, who is wild and spirited. But, the donkey stayed close to the prospector and carried his belongings and shared companionship with him. Brighty wanted to retain his freedom, but he also wanted friendship. The prospector allowed Brighty to have both. This resonated so deeply. Isn’t that the essence of a happy existence? Freedom and friendship!
This backdrop is where the story opens. Brighty and the prospector (called Old Timer) find a vein of copper in the Grand Canyon. This stroke of good luck is quickly followed by bad, and things go from there. The author includes historical figures, such as President Teddy Roosevelt, in the book, and this factual accuracy does result in a plot that isn’t as tight and straight as what we’re used to in modern times. But there’s a lot to like.
I loved the way the Grand Canyon and the Southwest are portrayed. We live in a part of the world where life exists in spite of the many natural elements trying to extinguish it. But Henry does a lovely job of highlighting the many beauties of the high desert.
Overall, this book was a GREAT experience for us. But I had low expectations because, you know, animal protagonist. I wouldn’t want anyone to go into this book with high expectations. It’s relatively quiet and meandering in parts. But it’s a sweet, comfortable book.
I must say that narrator John McDonough is pitch-perfect. He sounds like a lively grandpa telling the story. His cowboy twang added a fun aspect to the dialogue.
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 read this one to my boys (ages 7 and 9) to enrich our studies of Ancient Egypt. They enjoyed it, although they did get a tad impatient with Ranofer’s daydreaming and anxiety. Ranofer really does remind me of Hamlet. He spends 90 percent of the novel overthinking things, and then suddenly takes dramatic action in the last three chapters. Haha.
Ranofer is an orphan who dreams of becoming a goldsmith in old Egypt. Ranofer lives with his half-brother, Gebu, who is a violent, mean-mouthed, tight-fisted terror. And, as it turns out, he’s also a thief. Ranofer spends most of the book simply trying to get out from under Gebu’s thumb.
Ranofer is a true victim, yet he refuses to act like one, which I really liked. He’s determined to change his life for the better, even though he falls into fits of inertia and even depression (of a sort). And that’s what makes him so relatable. He’s not a bright, chipper, slick-talking Tom Sawyer-type kid. He’s a child who once knew love, who had plenty to eat, and who had prospects for his future—and he’s now starved of all three. He finds two unlikely friends who keep him from despair.
I was impressed by how much suspense and anxiety I felt for Ranofer’s wellbeing, even though not much happens to him for 3/4 of the book. The last, oh, three chapters are a wonderful, speedy rollercoaster ride, and they leave you feeling a sense of great satisfaction (after having watched so much suffering and, frankly, dilly-dallying for most of the book).
This book has a lot of atmosphere, really evoking a strong sense of the historical time period and place (Thebes, the City of the Dead). You learn a lot about what it was like to be an artisan’s apprentice in these times. Hopefully, it’ll inspire kids with lots of gratitude for their amazing parents who love them so. 😉
I was surprised by how rich the language is. Lots of rigorous vocab for kids.
This book makes sense when you view it as a modern fable
So, my boys requested this book after watching the movie, and we devoured this cinematic little morsel ASAP. I considered labeling this one “magical realism” but it’s not really. There’s the element of destiny, fate, and cosmic what-have-you, and this is something that I usually dislike. I don’t like vague spiritual messages that confuse kids. But there’s something about Holes that feels different. I decided that I’d approach it like a modern fable or folk tale, and it clicked into place in my mind.
The Yelnats family is cursed with unluckiness. They can’t catch a break. For Stanley Yelnats the fourth, his un-luck lands him at Camp Green Lake, a reformatory for delinquent boys, where they have to dig holes in the hot sun as penance for their crimes. But, Camp Green Lake isn’t what it seems to be, and the boys aren’t digging holes to build character—they’re looking for something.
Two storylines from the past weave into Stanley’s present-day tale. There’s the story of Stanley’s great-great-grandfather, who brought the curse upon his household by breaking a promise to Madame Zeroni, a sharp-witted witch-doctor-y character.
Then, you’ve got the story of Kissin’ Kate Barlow, a famous outlaw who once robbed Stanley’s great-grandfather and left him for dead in the Texas desert. But his grandfather survived somehow—even he’s a bit fuzzy on the details.
I think the intertwining storylines and the no-detail-left-behind nature of how it all comes together hits me right in my literary heart. And it’s what makes the whole thing feel like a folk tale. It couldn’t possibly happen, but tell the story anyway because there’s truth in there.
But, this book isn’t set in a fantasy world. It’s set in modern times, so what is it trying to say? It is, I confess, a tad muddled, but I believe it’s telling kids that if they try to do what’s right, God will work all things together for good. Now, don’t mistake me, God as Creator is not mentioned, even though one of the pivotal locations in the book is named God’s Thumb, and it turns out to be an oasis of saving grace. There are elements of the story that point to a bigger plan than what we can see in a single lifetime. This is interesting.
The book is overflowing with fantastic characters, funny dialogue, and high-drama scenes. We really enjoyed it.
Hertz is a screen-addicted kid who must endure a tech detox
THIS BOOK TAKES PLACE IN MY TOWN! The reason this is so incredibly exciting is that I live in a TINY town at the top of a mountain in Arizona. A town that nobody outside of the state knows about, and even inside the state, it’s iffy. When I read the book blurb and saw that this story takes place in Show Low, Arizona, my jaw dropped, and I immediately bought a copy.
This book is so much FUN! It’s a novel in verse, so any middle-grader can get through it in no time flat. Plus, it deals with an issue that most kids struggle with: screen addiction.
Hertz is always on a screen of some kind. He can’t live without a phone and access to his gaming devices. The internet? Required for life. So, when he’s forced to spend the summer with his great-uncle in the tiny town of Show Low, he is devastated to discover that he’s living in a trailer park with no Wi-Fi and not even a TV.
Of course, Hertz learns that there’s more to life than screens and their snazzy, swift distractions. He makes friends (and enemies) and learns how to live an analog existence—and like it.I love the theme, and I enjoyed the free-verse format. Lots of fun play on words and vivid imagery.
Is the book faithful to the real-life location? I thought so! Purvis does a great job of portraying the quirky local businesses that we have. I can see the pancake house as a sort of Darbi’s. The description of the Chamber of Commerce is spot on. And I love Pops. He’s an overly patriotic elder, which we have in spades ’round here—we COVER the mountain in American flags for all the patriotic holidays. If you don’t believe me, just visit on July 4. We have our share of shady pawn shops, too, although they’re far outnumbered by dollar stores. We have more dollar stores and thrift stores per capita than anywhere else I’ve ever been.
On the flip side, our cops are mostly nice, and we don’t host an annual scavenger hunt, even though we totally should.
Disclaimer. I don’t actually live in Show Low. I’m in Lakeside. (Not Pinetop either.) If you live here, this is an important distinction, but if you don’t live here, it makes no difference whatsoever.
A message of courage for kids who are too scared to reach for their dreams
What an incredible accomplishment for a teen author! This sweet story explores what it means to have hope when hope feels unrealistic and risky. The plot did not take the turns I expected, and what started as historical middle-grade took a turn into fantasyland.
Ashton Harper loves to dance. He secretly harbors hopes of attending a prestigious school of dance. But there’s no way he’ll get in, so why try? Why care?
Ashton and his two sisters DO get a shot at auditioning for the school…will they take it? The story follows Ashton as he figures out what he really wants from life, what’s truly important, and how to let go of his fears and insecurities.
This book is perfect for young readers who love the Regency era but want to read middle-grade (not adult romance, which tends to dominate).
How can you stand out when you’re lost in a sea of siblings?
I adored this novel in verse. Mari reminds me a lot of myself—introverted, creative, wondering how she fits in. Mari is the middle child in a family of nine kids. Her busy family, chaotic home life, and her clingy little sister, whom Mari is always stuck babysitting, often push her to her limit, requiring her to hide in the closet or lock herself in the bathroom for some peace and quiet.
Mari feels like she’s a side note in her family, often forgotten while louder voices get the most attention. But she’s not defined by resentment—she loves her family and is devoted to them, even though she finds them exhausting. She’s just wondering how she fits in as an individual in her own right (beyond her perpetual role as babysitter to her younger siblings). What in this world is JUST Mari’s? Who is she?
This a sweet, understated story that explores universal emotions that all kids can relate to. Do my parents really love me? What am I good at? Is she still my friend? Why am I so upset? I love books that are content to portray the ordinary highs and lows of everyday life.
I love Mari’s mixed cultural experience, which adds richness to her life. I love how the book throws all kinds of poetry into the mix, as Mari’s teacher assigns certain forms, we see Mari’s attempts at haiku, limerick, acrostic, and free verse. This book would make a fantastic addition to a homeschool poetry unit, because, as Mari learns to master some of these forms, she remains supremely focused on expressing herself and pouring her heart into her writing. The tension between self-expression and artistic constraint is where the magic happens for her.
Also, the doodles are such a fun addition! The book is beautifully laid out visually.
Overall, I loved this! I’d recommend it to any middle-grader, and I loved it as an adult, too.
A group of kids must escape a game-maker’s library in order to win the grand prize
This was our last read-aloud for the school year. I selected it because I hoped it would be a fun, exciting story to start the summer. My boys did enjoy it, but I was a tad underwhelmed.
I must say, though, that the ending made up for what I thought was a snoozy middle.
When I finished reading the last couple of chapters, my boys (7 and 8 years old) were literally jumping and rolling off the couch and around the carpet. All the tension and excitement they were feeling was manifesting in these funny physical gyrations, and it was hilarious to watch.
The story premise is great. An eccentric game-maker, Luigi Lemoncello, has built a state-of-the-art library in his childhood hometown, and he invites twelve 12-year-olds to a lock-in at the library. The next morning, they opt into an epic game to “escape” the library and win fame and fortune as Lemoncello spokes-kids.
The clues and puzzles were excellent. I felt like they were difficult enough to warrant the fanfare surrounding the game event. The only thing, though, was that SO much went over my boys’ heads. As the adult, I caught all the allusions and Easter eggs, and I wanted to explain them to my boys, but I refrained, haha.
I felt like the writing and the characters were on the weaker side. Granted, this is a plot-driven adventure story, but I was expecting a bit more in the character department. That would’ve helped support the middle of the novel, which dragged for me.
There wasn’t much “there” there, even for our hero, Kyle. The most interesting character is Charles because he’s a worthy villain, who tries to weasel and fake his way to the top. It’s good to see him taken down a notch—my boys loved it—but he’s also something of a caricature.
If each character could’ve displayed more internal conflict, our interest would’ve skyrocketed. There’s one point at which Kyle is tempted to play video games instead of help his team look for clues, and after a quick pause, he resists the temptation. Had the characters had grown and changed to a greater degree, the book would’ve had more to offer.
Also, the grand prize (being a Lemoncello spokesperson) seemed a little strange. I would not wish fame on these poor kids!
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.
I love Andrew Clements, but this was not a favorite for me or my boys. The book came with our homeschool curriculum, and it sounded intriguing—”two mysteries in one,” says the cover. I think that skewed my expectations. I was anticipating something heavy on clues, puzzles, twists, and gasps.
But this book was very quiet and unassuming. The drama is small, just like the town of Plattsford, Nebraska, where the story is set. The main character, Ted, is a sixth-grader who stumbles upon a family squatting in an abandoned farmhouse, and he does what he can to help them.
The book has gold-standard values, I will give it that. But, everyone in the book seemed to be on his/her best behavior. It would’ve been interesting to have a mischief-maker or a bad guy in the mix to liven things up. There wasn’t enough conflict for me.
The climax of the story is a huge bust—and it’s supposed to be. This made for some interesting discussion. My boys and I were rooting for a magical ending where everyone cheers and the kids hug and the parents cry while the soundtrack swells to a crescendo. The book deliberately bursts your bubble. Asking “WHY?” is a good exercise for kids.
Overall, though, I wouldn’t recommend this to anyone who is looking for a page-turner to keep the interest of a reluctant reader. Good but not great.
A stifled young girl finds freedom and purpose on P.E.I.
I love children’s stories where the little protagonist starts out as an underdog (like Mary Lennox or Anne Shirley) and then has a chance to blossom into who they truly want to be. Jane is just like that.
Jane lives in Toronto under the thumb of her impossible-to-please grandmother. She also lives with her mother, who is a total pushover and won’t stand up to her mother. Grandmother makes life miserable, and Jane is afraid, friendless, and talentless. Who is Jane’s dad and where is he? That’s a mystery, until one day, a letter arrives. From him. Requesting that Jane spend the summer with him on (you guessed it) P.E.I.
Like so many Montgomery books, this one is an ode to the wonders of nature and a free-range childhood. Many passages linger on dewdrops and whitecaps and fenceposts. Montgomery is never too busy to slow down and look at nature.
Jane expects to hate the island and her father, but she instantly falls in love with both. Instead of being told to act like a little lady, Jane gets to decide for herself who she’ll be and what she’ll do. She decides to work, work, work. She delights in all the housework that most modern women can’t stand. Laundry, cooking, gardening. Haha! She finds purpose in caring for her father, her pets, and her plants. Instead of living to please her grandmother, she finds joy in living to serve her family and friends. What a difference!
But will her father and mother ever reconcile? What drove them apart? These are big questions for little Jane, but she must face them.
This isn’t my favorite Montogmery novel, but it’s a charming one. It’s beautiful to see a picture of what a healthy childhood could look like in an idyllic, intimate community.
Content warnings: Jane’s parents are separated. Good to know if you’re reading it with kids.
Lots of potential for discussion here. But not a favorite of mine.
Pearl S. Buck’s novel The Good Earth was a formative reading experience for me in my 20s, so anything with her name on it gets my attention.
This story, however, was…hmm…
I’m not sure exactly what it’s trying to say. What was Buck, a Christian missionary, trying to capture here? I get the sense that she’s not necessarily portraying her own view as a Christian but perhaps giving a snapshot of an alternate cultural viewpoint…
The story (which is very short) takes place in a Japanese seaside village. The fishermen and their families have a deep fear of the ocean, even though it’s what sustains life for them. They know that, at any moment, a storm or tsunami can devesate them and take their lives. They build homes with no ocean-facing windows because they don’t want to…face the fear, I guess? Inland, there’s an active volcano that causes earthquakes. The people know that, between the ocean and the volcano, it’s just a matter of time before disaster strikes. This is true of life, no matter where you live or how safe you may feel.
The characters conclude that living in a dangerous place makes them brave and helps them better appreciate times of peace and happiness. I guess this is true in a general sense. We can see the light because of the darkness kinda thing. I just wish there was a clearer, firmer foundation to build on than what Buck offers here. The ending of the book sees one of the main characters literally building a house on sand. What are we supposed to make of that?
The best element of the story, for me, is when Jiya must decide whether to live with the poor farmers or the rich old gentleman. On the one hand, he can claim a life of safety, plenty, and opportunity. On the other, he can live humbly but also in the midst of uncertainty and possible privation. Most people don’t get to make this choice, but if they did, what would they choose?
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.
How will 10-year-old Esther survive now that her family must move from the city to a farm due to the Great Depression?
What a sweet, heartfelt book! I read it in just over a day, and it’s perfect for kids who love pioneer or homesteading books. It’s the Great Depression, and we see one year in the life of 10-year-old Esther. All she wants is to earn her mother’s love. Her Russian immigrant mom is exacting and superstitious. She scolds easily, worries constantly, and hugs not at all. What can Esther do to make Ma love her?
When Esther’s dad loses his job in Chicago, the family moves to a Wisconsin farm to try country life. How will Esther adjust?
This story has two strong journeys: the outer journey: Will the family make it on the farm? And the inner journey: Will Esther at long last receive her mother’s love? This makes it a simple yet layered growing-up tale.
It is a sweet story, with lots of emotion. I got teary-eyed a few times. I appreciate how the book doesn’t villainize the city or the country. I also love how there is a faith element. The family prays and goes to church. Ma and Pa also carry a lot of superstitions from the Old Country, and it’s interesting to see how that’s handled.
The reading level is low, so younger kids should be able to tackle it. The plot touches on many universal “kid dilemmas” that anyone can relate to, and it also opens a window to a distinct time in history and how people lived back then.
I got this book recommendation from this list of page-turners.
Content warnings: Nothing graphic or overly scary. However, one character has a medical emergency that requires hospitalization. One character chokes on food.
An awkward orphan girl is adopted by a big family who lives on a tiny lighthouse island
What a delightful story. Like Anna Rose Johnson’s debut, this book has that classic, vintage feel. What’s more, Lucy Landry is Anne Shirley reincarnated. She’s dreamy and inattentive, but it’s obvious that her behavior is a coping mechanism, and so, even though she makes us cringe, we FEEL for her.
This is one of those stories where the young protagonist is plopped into a completely new life. Think Sara Crewe, Mary Lennox, and, of course, Anne. Lucy Landry has lived primarily alone with an elderly caretaker. When she’s adopted by a couple with six children who live on a tiny lighthouse island, she’s utterly unprepared for the chaos and conflict. I’m glad that the author didn’t shy away from this conflict. It was HARD for Lucy to fit in, and this constant tension made the story interesting.
I loved the mystery of the long-lost necklace that’s woven through the story. While this is a subplot and not the point of the book, it adds a layer of interest to liven up the main plot, which is Lucy’s transformation. Plus, finding the lost necklace gives Lucy a goal and deepens her connection to her past.
This book is short and easy to read. It’ll appeal to kids (and adults) who want a quick win.
Also, Lucy deals with some debilitating fear. Since so many kids struggle with fears, this is another touchpoint that will appeal to anxious kids without triggering them (I think).
And a huge WOO-HOO to the depiction of a homeschooling family. This is rare! (But spilling stuff all over our school supplies is, sadly, not. Haha.)
Thank you to NetGalley and Holiday House for a digital ARC of this novel.
Content warnings: Lucy is afraid of sailing on the water. The book shows her getting anxious about the prospect of (and the reality of) getting on a boat. She and one other character freeze up in panic, but it’s not depicted as a detailed panic attack. Mentioning this just in case it’s relevant for your youngster.
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.
