A Desolation Called Peace (Teixcalaan Book 2) by Arkady Martine. Tor, 2021. 9781250186461. 496pp. This is a sequel to Martine’s A Memory Called Empire. That one is about an ambassador from a space station trying to help her people maintain their independence from the Teixcalaan Empire, which is her personal obsession. The story starts quietly, with a failed attempt to integrate the memories of her predecessor into the ambassador’s mind, and ends with a bang. Great book. (minor spoiler) This sequel starts with that ambassador, Mahit Dzmare, back on her home station. Things are pretty bad there, so when she’s offered an out she leaves to help Teixcalaan establish contact with an alien species they may already be at war with. The aliens are technologically advanced and seem both brutal and unknowable. That’s part of the story, a strange tale of a violent and mysterious first contact. It’s woven in with a romance that continues to develop from the first book, a relationship that is trying and maybe failing to establish itself across a cultural divide. And off to the side, far away but also involved, is the story of a very young boy who will one day be the Emperor of Teixcalaan as he tries to learn who his allies are, what he values, and how to exercise the power and influence he already possesses. There are heart stopping moments and amazing writing in this book (which makes sense as poetry is at the heart of the Teixcalaan Empire), but don’t skip the first in the series. Elysium Fire by Alastair Reynolds. Orbit, 2018. 9780316555678. 432pp. This is a sequel to The Prefect, which it looks like was republished last year as Aurora Rising. (I like the new cover design but prefer the original cover.) This is another “police” procedural starring Prefect Tom Dreyfus and other familiar characters, set in a high-tech period of human habitation in the Glitter Band, a civilization of about 10,000 habitats around a planet called Yellowstone. (Other books by Reynolds take place in the same setting, but in wildly different time periods.) The central mystery in this book is why an increasing number of citizens are suddenly, inexplicably dying. It clearly has something to do with their neural implants, which are cooking their brains. As investigations continue into what links the victims (including interviewing backups of those who have already died), a man urging habitats to secede from the Glitter Band’s democracy seems to be gaining traction. He’s also made the mistake of irritating Dreyfus, and could be involved in whatever is killing people. #bookreview #sciencefiction #mystery

War and Peas: Funny Comics for Dirty Lovers by Jonathan Kunz and Elizabeth Pich. Andrews McMeel, 2020. 9781524854072. 160pp. Frequent characters in this collection include Death, Dog, two couples, a ghost, a robot, and a witch who likes to party. There are some swear words and adult content. One comic features a creepy clown and another, about a dog, has a photograph, which was a nice tribute. My favorites are, of course, the few comic strips about books and reading. These are four panel comics at their best, which to me is just a little bit adult and nasty. But leave leave this collection where your teenagers can find it — they’ll think it’s hilarious.Read more comics and subscribe to get them via email at http://warandpeas.com/  

The Size of the Truth by Andrew Smith. Simon & Schuster, 2020. 9781534419568. 288pp. On Thanksgiving, when he was four, Sam fell into an abandoned well in Blue Creek, TX. He couldn’t really remember what happened when he fell, but now he can. It involves a talking armadillo, and it’s pretty weird. Now Sam is eleven and starting the eighth grade. (He should be in sixth but he skipped a few grades.) James Jenkins, the eight grader who kinda caused Sam to fall into the well, looks like a murderer. Sam has scary dreams about him. He’s destined to be a high school football star, and he’s in Sam’s homeroom. This is a book about survival camping, mini-golf, defying parental expectations, and an unlikely friendship involving cooking. It’s a strange and wonderful story with a heartwarming ending involving both mac and cheese and ballet. It’s one of my favorite tween novels ever.

And the People Stayed Home by Kitty O’Meara, illustrated by Stefano Di Christofaro and Paul Pereda. Tra Publishing, 2020. 9781734761788. 32pp. This picture book started out as a poem about the COVID pandemic. O’Meara’s words quickly drew acclaim and praise by dignitaries, world leaders, politicians and celebrities. It’s obvious why so many people – adults and children- are reading and enjoying this story about the positivity of people staying home during the crisis. Rather being isolated and lonely, we can share time together reading, playing games, learning and refining skills, and even just resting. Now is the time for everyone to just be still and quiet. Guest review by by NowBrusMom

I Want You by Lisa Hanawalt. Drawn & Quarterly, 2020. 9781770463882. 140pp. This is a collection of Hanawalt’s black and white minicomics from before she published Hot Dog Taste Test, or worked on Bojack Horseman and her own animated series, Tuca & Bertie (a new season is coming to Cartoon Network’s Adult Swim in 2021!). These are early comics, and in her introduction (with apologies) she compares looking back at old work to “taking a shit and not flushing it.” The book is filled with well-dressed anthropomorphic animals; my favorite is the fashionable she-moose who appears again and again, who is first shown laying atop several crushed cars. The animals in strange hats are a close second. (Shout out to the cat with the birth control hat, and the depressed looking dog wit the fax machine on his head.) There are bits that are clearly comics, and others that are comics-ish, plus drawings that range from delightful to weird. And there’s some sex and more bathroom humor, too. Reading this was like getting a great birthday present.

The Loneliness of the Long Distance Cartoonist by Adrian Tomine. Drawn & Quarterly, 2020. 9781770463950. 168pp. This graphic memoir opens in Fresno in 1982 when young Adrian introduces himself to his new classmates, saying he likes drawing and collecting comics and wants to be a famous cartoonist. Everyone laughs when he says he wants to be like John Romita. Jerks. Cut to 1995 as he’s flying into San Diego for the Comic-Con, feeling successful. A bad review and some folks at a party soon bring him down, though that doesn’t stop him from heading back to the con the following year, which isn’t a better experience. This is a great view of the grind that is being a cartoonist: the parties, the bruised egos, signings with no lines, awkward interviews (including one on Fresh Air that I, in no way, think was as bad as Tomine does). There are small triumphs, of course, and much more awkwardness. My favorite bit is the page when Tomine visits his kid’s classroom and draws dog poop just to please the crowd. (He fails to please the teacher and the other parents.) The look of the art is rougher than in most of Tomine’s graphic fiction, and is designed to look and feel like it was drawn directly on graph paper in a Moleskin notebook. I loved it from start to finish; though I’ve never achieved Tomine’s level of success, I’ve rarely felt so understood.

Slaughterhouse-Five: or The Children’s Crusade: A Graphic Novel Adaptation by Kurt Vonnegut, written by Ryan North, illustrated by Albert Monteys. Archaia, 2020. 9781684156252. 192pp. I’m a huge fan of both Kurt Vonnegut and Ryan North (Dinosaur Comics, To Be Or Not To Be, Squirrel Girl), but I generally avoid graphic novel adaptations. But this seemed to have a good buzz, and after dipping into the first few pages I was sure I’d love it despite my love for the original. The comics format allows North and Monteys to take us along with Billy Pilgrim moment to moment as he, unstuck in time, bounces between parts of his life (including the bombing of Dresden and living on Tralfamadore). It’s seamless, and seems like it would be easier to follow than Vonnegut’s book for some readers. My favorite parts are the three panel character summaries and seeing my favorite Vonnegut character: Kilgore Trout. Monteys art stays right on the line between silly and serious, and he takes great pains to avoid showing any potentially offensive details, like in the scenes where Billy and Montana Wildhack are on display, naked, in an alien zoo. And he somehow does that without compromising the story or the tone of the book! For that alone every librarian should buy at least one copy for their high school and public library. (I liked it so much that I’m moving Monteys’ graphic novel Universe! to the top of my to-read pile.)

Trespassers by Breena Bard. Scholastic, 2020. 9781338264210. 256pp. Gabby is in eighth grade and she loves reading mysteries. Her family takes a week-long trip to the lake cabin her mom grew up visiting. In addition to their long-time neighbor there, Gene, they have new neighbors, the Martins. Their kids Paige and Brian are the same age as Gabby and her little brother Simon, and Gabby’s parents seem determined that they all become friends. (It seems unlikely because Paige is irritating and sarcastic, and Brian carries a lighter to use for his illegal fireworks.) Gabby’s favorite place on the lake, a beautiful, fancy house where no on lives. It was built by an architect for his wife as their ideal home, but then they disappeared. It’s the lake’s mystery. When the kids wander past together, they break the law and go in. With some encouragement from her mom, Gabby starts writing the a story based on the mystery, and she and Paige start working together to figure out (or just make up) what happened. Their imaginations run wild, leading them to more trespassing plus lying to their parents. The story they start to spin (and maybe believe) is a bit crazy, but it’s a great way to spend a week.  

A Deadly Education: Lesson One of the Scholomance by Naomi Novik. Del Rey, 2020. 9780593128480. 324pp. The Scholomance is a high school where teens learn magic. It is in a mystic void and barely connected to the real world. There are no teachers. There are strict rules and, in other ways, no rules at all. Students learn languages and spells and other magical skills. They gather mana. And they spend most of it trying to survive every moment of every day because when the school isn’t trying to kill them there are maleficaria (the monsters trying to feed on the students) as well as maleficers (students who feed on other students). To have a chance to make it through graduation, most band together in alliances. Some are already members of powerful enclaves when they come into the school, while others will do anything to join. Still, only about a quarter of the students survive, sometimes far less. Orion Lake is the current school hero. He fights all of the monsters that invade the Scholomance, and almost everyone is swooning over him. (This makes sense as he’s saved most of them). El is not impressed. In fact she’s annoyed that he just saved her life. She’s friendless, and everyone thinks she’s probably an evil maleficer. Really she’s just trying to figure out a way to impress other students with her affinity for mass destruction, because she needs to attract allies to have a chance of making it out of the school alive at the end of her senior year. But it’s hard to impress anyone because Orion Lake keeps saving her. And now those in Lake’s enclave think she and Lake are dating, which may make school even more dangerous for her. This is a brilliant fantasy novel that will appeal to fans of the whole magical school genre and anyone looking for a book that they won’t be able to put down. I read it in a rush, and enjoyed it as much as Novik’s Uprooted.

The Deep & Dark Blue by Niki Smith. Little Brown, 2020. 9780316485982. 256pp. Twin brothers Grayson and Hawke manage to escape during their cousin Mirelle’s coup against their grandfather. Needing a place to hide, they disguise themselves as girls and join the Sisters of the Communion Blue as new initiates, Grace and Hanna. They go to some effort to keep their secret, but are tested along with the other new girls. Soon Hawke is training to become a guardian, who will protect the Sisters, and Grace is welcomed as a spinner who will learn to create the threads that bind the world (and the magic that goes along with that). Hawke rankles at staying hidden, but it’s clear that Grace’s place and new identity means much more to her. When the two have a chance to expose the truth of what their cousin did, Grace tells her brother as much, though they still go forward with their risky plan that starts with removing a magical tapestry from the Sisters’ Library of Ancestors. Smith’s art grew on me as the book progressed, and I especially loved the way she showed Grace’s emotions as she slowly figured out who she is. This is a great book for middle schoolers, and I’m sure some younger and older kids will love it, too.