The Odds by Matt Stanton. HarperAlley, 2020. 9780063068940. 208pp. Kip awakens one morning to find ten characters have come to life — they’re from a book, video game, TV show, her dreams, the end of her pencil, the comics her dad draws, and more. This is not a dream. Her dad thinks he may be going crazy (he’s not). Kip and her dad have no idea how to return them to their worlds, and keeping them all contained in the apartment where they live is about to prove impossible. At school Kip prefers to be invisible, mostly because the other kids are mean. Thursday she has to tell her class about something that makes her unique. (Spoiler: her presentation will likely involve her new friends somehow.) I love how straightforward and silly this book is. It’s for younger kids, but it’s not one of those blah blah, by-the-numbers graphic novels for young readers I’ve read entirely too many of lately. This book has heart, a great dad/daughter relationship, plus a talking dinosaur AND a talking chicken.

The Montague Twins Vol. 2: The Devil’s Music by Nathan Page & Drew Shannon. Alfred A. Knopf / RH Graphic, 2021. 9780525646808. Charlie, Pete, and his brother Al are in a band, The Bony Fingers. After their supernatural adventure in the first book, Rowan is continuing to teach them a bit of magic. But a shadowy group of faculty at the university has some concerns about that plus a new member — an uncle the boys have never heard about. There’s also a handsome and mysterious rock star, Gideon Drake, who recently showed up in town and started hanging out. It’s a minor spoiler, but the reason he’s there has something to do with Millie, a girl who also goes to Central High and who, nearly catatonic, almost falls into the harbor in front of the lighthouse. As romances start to develop and a group of mothers protests against rock and roll, there’s some question about what’s up with Gideon (and whether or not it’s demonic). This is an odd and pleasant follow-up to the first book in that it doesn’t have a rigid mystery plot. I’d have thought this series would have gone toward more a predictable, straightforward Hardy Boys-type plots but Page and Shannon are letting the characters dictate the direction of the series. The result is a great read with beautiful art set in New England in the late 60s (I think) featuring concerned adults, realistic high school kids, and a developing storyline that seems to be setting things up for later books. Here’s hoping there are a lot of those.

Horse Trouble by Kristin Varner. First Second, 2021. 9781250225870. 288pp. including an author’s note, photos of Varner as a kid (including a few riding her horse), plus a few pages sharing sketches and her process for creating comics. Twelve-year-old Kate hates being chubby and loves riding horses. She goes to school with her popular best friend Becky. Tuesdays and Saturdays she takes riding lessons at Millcreek Farm, where she also helps out to help pay for them. There are mean, unpleasant girls at both school and the barn, and Kate’s brother and his friends are jerks too. The fact that Kate keeps falling off horses as she’s training for competitions doesn’t help her self-esteem, either. The book is about her growing up a little, figuring out that she’s maybe somewhat cool (as is her brother), and that she’s more than a little awesome at riding, too. My friend Marin has loved riding since she was a kid, and this book demystifies that for me. (My dad loved horses, too, but I’ve preferred motorcycles since my saddle came off an out-of-control horse running at full gallop on a beach.) This book has definitions of specialized vocabulary about horses and riding in “footnotes” that I found really helpful. I now know that the person who saddled the horse I fell off of probably wasn’t paying attention. That horse maybe have been bloating, which allowed the saddle to slip. Worth noting: The drawings are charming, as is the use of red ink as an occasional accent color. I’ve read that it’s especially hard to draw horses well, and the horses in this book look spectacular, as do all of Kate’s falls and competitions.

Ralph Azham Book 1: Black Are The Stars by Lewis Trondheim. Translation by Kim Thompson and Joe Johnson. Colorign by Brigitte Findakly. Super Genius (Papercutz), 2022. 9781545808795. 150 pp. Lewis Trondheim has a new book in English! It’s the first part of what was, in French, an amusing 12 volume epic. This one contains three of the original books. It features an a fantasy world full of anthropomorphic characters, strange creatures, and magical artifacts reminiscent of Trondheim and Sfar’s Dungeon series. Characters like Ralph who are blue have special powers — in his case it’s ridiculous (at least at first) — he can tell how many kids a person has. (He develops a more useful and deadly power that involves the ghosts of those one has killed as well.) Over the course of the books Ralph goes from hapless outcast to the kind of direct, plain talking hero I find it easy to root for (though he’s still an idiot sometimes). The whole series is, at least in part, about family, the one you’re born with and the one you choose. Great stuff. The fact that Trondheim’s wife B. Findakly colored his comics makes the art the much more fun. If this sounds familiar it’s because Fantagraphics published the first French book as a single volume years ago, but then didn’t publish the rest. (It looks like Papercutz is going to though!) It’s worth noting that Papercutz published another book by Trondheim in 2021, a wordless graphic novel titled The Fly. It’s something kids and adults would love. And as I write this it’s still possible to find episodes of Fly Tales, the cartoon based on it, on YouTube.

The Outlaws Scarlett And Browne by Jonathan Stroud. Alfred A. Knopf, 2021. 9780593430361. 421pp. I have great memories of reading Stroud’s Bartimaeus series and his standalone novel Heroes of the Valley with my daughter when she was a kid, and this entertaining page turner brought those memories right back. Sent in a steampunkish post-apocalyptic England filled with deadly creatures, walled cities, and adults who are jerks (and worse), the book centers on Scarlet, a lovable scoundrel who has penchants for violence and bank robbery. Fleeing the scene of a crime she meets the slight and awkward Albert Browne, alone in the wilderness. The two quickly find they’re being hunted by an armed group; Scarlett assumes they’re after her and the money she stole, but it turns out she’s wrong. Albert has a few surprises for her, including one that will help her career as a criminal (though that doesn’t seem to need much help). The book isn’t entirely a nonstop chase at breakneck speed, though there’s always danger nearby. But I never doubted that Scarlett was a match for all challenges, including the stylish and nasty big bad she and Albert face at the end.

Treasure in the Lake by Jason Pamment. Harper Alley, 2021. 9780063065185. 208pp. Iris and Sam love exploring the woods around the lake near Bugden, the town where they live. Sam loves being there more than Iris does, though — she wants to leave Bugden and see the world, maybe as an archeologist, while he seems content to stay there for life. In fact Iris just got into a school in the city, and she’s desperate to go there instead of Bugden High. So when her mom seems cold on the idea, Iris gets upset and heads to the river to be alone for a bit. The river suddenly dries up and Iris makes a big big discovery — long-buried train tracks and a city that is normally hidden in the river. Iris drags Sam into the lost town to look around. They have a falling out when Sam wants to leave (he wants to see Bugden’s new statue revealed). Iris stays there and, after the bell in the old clocktower rings, she has an adventure that is supernatural or in a different time or both. It’s all rather sweet, and it involves Ben, the old guy who passes Sam and Iris on the street early in the story. Pamment is an Australian animator, director, and designer in addition to being an author-illustrator. His art looks as if it glows! If you don’t believe me, there are amazing cover blurbs endorsing this graphic novel from Kazu Kibuishi (Amulet), Ben Hatke (Zita the Spacegirl) and Shaun Tan (The Arrival). You can see an animated trailer for the book (which shows how great the cover is) at Pamment’s website, http://www.jasonpamment.com/

Himawari House by Harmony Becker. First Second, 2021. 9781250235565. 384pp. with a note on the use of accents in the book + early sketches in the back. Nao moves from the U.S back to Japan, where she was born, to study Japanese for a year between high school and college. She lives in shared housing with four others: Hyejung, from South Korea, who is studying for university entrance exams in Japan; Tina from Singapore who is doing the same; and two young Japanese dudes, the friendly Shinichi and very quiet Masaki. As Nao reconnects with her childhood self and tries to figure out if she’s gaijin or Japanese, the five form the type of fast, deep friendships that can only happen when everyone is in a new place, trying to help each other. (The other characters inner live are explored a bit in the book, too.) The story includes crushes, holiday parties, karaoke, part-time jobs, a charming grandma who lives down the street, and the best use of accented English I’ve ever seen in a book. Worth noting: When the characters speak a language other than English, the language is in the word balloons along with English. It makes for a great chance to practice another language if you know a little of it, and it’s so much better than putting translated language in English between << brackets like this >>, which is what I saw in a lot of comics when I was a kid. Becker previously drew George Takei’s graphic memoir They Called Us Enemy.

The City Of Belgium by Brecht Evens. Drawn & Quarterly, 2021. 9781770463424. 336pp. The City of Belgium starts with a guy getting ready to move, calling friends to figure out what he’s going to do on his last night in town. It ends with a conversation on a beach that he’s not involved in. In between is a lot of partying, some drama, and a ton of conversations. The voices are amazing, and like in Evens’ other graphic novels they’re lettered in a different color for each character. The flow is great, especially the effortless way the book shifts focus from one character to another and back again (and no one draws characters in conversation better than Evens). But the star of the book, as with Evens’ others (The Making Of, Panther, The Wrong Place) is his art; it feels both loose and exact. Characters’ morph from panel to panel, expressing deep feelings and drunken boisterousness and all-out sadness. And so often in this book I’d turn a page and just stop and say, “Wow!” There’s so much going on on some pages while on others the drawings are minimalistic — but they’re always fantastic. I borrowed this copy from the library but I’m going to immediately buy one for myself — it’s perfect for dipping into here and there, and it will easily double as a compelling coffee table art book for folks to flip through.