Children's Book Reviews: 10/12/2009

From the grim warning on the first page (“CAUTION! This is a book that eats people”) to the advice at the end (“Never read this book with syrupy fingers. Never read it with cookies in your pocket. Never turn your back on it”), Perry's debut soldiers on with a Lemony Snicket–like straight face. The histories of the book's previous victims are given in gory detail (“Sammy pulled as hard as he could, but the book ate him. Then it coughed up his bones and they clattered across the floor like wooden blocks”). Fearing draws the book-within-a-book with blood-red covers, heavy-lidded eyes and a mouthful of fangs, packing his collage spreads with torn and crumpled papers (which take on an especially gruesome vibe in this context). Perry also covers the book's perverse appetites (“if you hear a sound like an octopus in a tub of yogurt, that's the book's empty stomach”), tactics (it “traded covers” with a book called All About Dolphins, to the delight of one young Victoria Glassford) and eventual (if ineffectual) incarceration. It's all irresistible. Read it. Carefully. All ages. (Oct.)

The lyrics of Harry Dixon Loes's gospel song “This Little Light of Mine” ring throughout this tribute to individuals who let “their inner light” shine during the civil rights movement. Newton's concise text touches on landmark incidents, underscoring the courage of Rosa Parks, Martin Luther King Jr., the Little Rock Nine, the Greensboro Four and Ruby Bridges. After referring to Lyndon Johnson's contribution (he “helped to change the law./ Civil rights for everyone”), the narrative leaps rather jarringly to the present, as the president addresses the sprawling crowd at his inauguration: “Speaking to all Americans,/ Barack Obama had a dream./ As President of the United States,/ He let his light shine.” Illustrating the often-repeated refrain, “Let it shine!” are images of the segregated 1950s and '60s: black and white passengers boarding a bus through different doors, children drinking from separate water fountains. Newton's electric-hued digital compositions have a distinctly retro feel, incorporating postage marks, scraps of text and other layered elements. Potentially a conversation starter, the text's vagueness and lack of detail will necessitate outside resources. All ages. (Oct.)

The title refers not to stage debut, but rather to a little girl's maiden experience as an audience member at The Nutcracker. Wearing a dressy red coat and Mary Janes, and accompanied by a regal matron in a Margaret Dumontesque fur, the girl soaks up the auditorium's opulence and the electricity in the air. But as soon as the ballet starts, Caswell, a debuting author, and Matthews (Different Like Coco) focus on the dancers, and the book sags. Their Nutcracker comprises mostly haughty ballerinas; there's little sense of the work as a magical smorgasbord or (more egregiously) that its central character is a young girl. Matthews's dancers look chunky, inert and detached, and Caswell's text is equally problematic. She writes in minimal, literal couplets composed almost entirely of noun-verb pairs (“Lights dim. Curtains rise./ Hushed lips. Watchful eyes.”), an approach that turns an exciting rite of passage into an oddly dry catalogue. It's only on the last page, which shows a charming and spontaneous pas de deux, that the book conveys how deeply the pair has been “captivated by the dance.” Ages 2–5. (Oct.)

“Never mention anything warm in front of me...” Jack Frost, a spiky elfin creature, tells his new friend, a boy whose winter doldrums are interrupted by the sprightly figure's arrival. “That would break the spell and force me to leave.” The boy agrees, and he and Jack Frost scamper off across the spreads of this celebration of winter magic. Kohara's (Ghosts in the House!) sharp-edged white silhouettes suggest the crisp ice-cold of winter, but midnight blue backgrounds pale as they near the horizon like old Japanese woodblock prints, softening and adding depth. Jack Frost's challenges (“You can't catch me! You can't jump over the pond!”) are easily met: the boy sails effortlessly with eyes closed to where the sprite waits on the far side, while the boy's hound, wearing skates as well, pirouettes. In an especially lovely scene, Jack, the boy and the dog build three snowmen with features that echo their own. Jack's a wonderful playmate, and only when the boy discovers a snowdrop does their idyll end. The book ends with a promise: “See you next winter!” A sparkling winter treat. Ages 3–6. (Oct.)

Bog Babies have round blue bellies and little wings “no bigger than daisy petals.” The narrator, seen as a girl in a red jumper and pigtails, recounts finding one with her sister on a surreptitious visit to Bluebell Wood, “long ago, when we were little.” Her confiding, reminiscent tone is one of this irresistible book's chief charms: “We said we were going to Annie's house to play,” she admits, “but we didn't.” After a brief period of bliss (“We sneaked him into school in a margarine tub”), the Bog Baby falls ill, and the girls' mother, who has clearly caught a Bog Baby or two in her day (“When she saw who was in the bucket, she smiled and her eyes went misty”), helps the girls bring him back to the pond where he belongs. Willis (Mammoth Pie) supplies numerous winsome details (“We fed him cake crumbs”), ever-fresh in the narrator's mind, and Millward's (Guess What I Found in Dragon Wood) dreamy, doodly pen and ink spreads are similarly fragrant with nostalgia for childhood expeditions and the sheer magic of the outdoors. Ages 3–7. (Oct.)

Greathouse and Shroades's rollicking debut, set “back when the old, old West was still as green as a bristlecone pine and cowboys were as common as warts on a Stegosaurus,” introduces pint-sized cowboy Rocky who “teethed on a Deinonychus femur and used an Ankylosaurus tail as a rattle” and specializes in taming dinos of all sizes. Though the book is full of delightful hyperbole and outlandish claims, both author and artist sprinkle it with authentic dinosaur names and features; Shroades uses a palette of fantastical colors for his dinos, as when Rocky ropes a purple and blue stegosaurus “at ninety paces while wearin' a blindfold and eatin' a prickly pear.” But trouble surfaces with the arrival of T. Rex—the “rip-roarin'est, snip-snortin'est reptilian that ever did stomp the earth.” The artist wisely maintains T. Rex's slightly menacing and mischievous expression throughout, even when the tamed beast becomes “as docile as a fresh-hatched platypus pup.” Greathouse's humorous tall tale language never falters, and readers will relish cinematic scenes of Rocky and T. Rex tussling, creating several American landmarks in the process. Ages 4–8. (Oct.)

A small green frog stumbles on a book of spells (which is written by “Emily Gribbit”), tries to turn himself into a handsome prince, but suffers a series of glitches. Frog transforms himself into a snake, bird, rabbit and other creatures before getting it right, finally becoming a prince (who is naked, but for a modest cloud around his midsection). The five pages that show Frog's new forms are cut in half horizontally, and children will delight in turning the half-pages, reading the new spells that appear on the left side of each spread and seeing the combined creatures that emerge (a half-prince, half-newt “prewt,” for instance). Gravett remains fascinated by the tension between the flat pages of a book and the three dimensions of the real world; early on, scraps of torn pages from the spell book, heaped against a field of Halloween black, themselves are transformed into a turbulent ocean, castle turrets and a paper doll chain of princesses that look ready to march into readers' laps. Even the jacket and flap copy provide laughs. Another winner from Gravett. Ages 4–8. (Oct.)

The authors of Owen & Mzee and Knut offer a moving though less compelling chronicle of another creature in need: a bottlenose dolphin that became tangled in a crab trap off the Florida coast. After Winter was rescued and taken to the Clearwater Marine Aquarium, her injured tail fell off and she learned to swim by propelling her body with a side-to-side motion. Concerned that this improvised movement would damage her backbone, her caregivers welcomed a prosthesis-creator's offer to fashion a device that mimics the motion of a dolphin tail, enabling Winter to swim normally. The chatty text, sophisticated for kids on the younger end of the age range, is accompanied by photos of varying quality. Low-res initial shots of Winter's ordeal are pixellated (“the mere fact that they were recorded at all gives us a valuable insight into the drama of this extraordinary event” reads a note); the great majority of images, however, are bright, focused and well framed. Readers will be most drawn to Winter's resilience and the dedication and ingenuity of those helping her. Ages 4–8. (Oct.)

Visual humor abounds in this oddball tale of two misfits who resolve their discontent by trading places. But despite its inherent absurdities, the path of the story is regrettably predictable. It begins with an antsy penguin, eager to see the world “beyond this big boring block of ice,” then switches to a pirate who is equally unhappy in his surroundings—he'd rather find inner peace than buried treasure. Their stories are finally joined in a comical double-page cartoon map that traces their circuitous journeys (“Boring ocean,” the penguin grouses), until the penguin's iceberg bumps into the pirate ship, tossing the bird on deck (“CLUNK!”). Though the pirate nearly makes the intruding penguin walk the plank, they soon decide to switch their outfits—and their roles, both ending up the happier for it. But despite the humorous details that appear in the text and the art—early on, Penguin's compatriots can't understand his boredom (“But there's so much to do. Like daydreaming!” “And yoga!” “And daydreaming about yoga!”)—readers will see the ending coming a nautical mile away. Ages 4–up. (Oct.)

Literary agent Rennert's debut picture book opens on a wry note, explaining, “Dinos make great pets, but some may need a little more housebreaking than others.” But this manual for dinosaur owners falls short of the premise's comedic potential. A rather flat rundown of five species recommends triceratops as “a great watch-dino,” pteranodon as a skilled catcher of fly balls at baseball games and spinosaurus as a “great warm-weather dino” that can cast shade on summer days; kid-pleasing tidbits are scattered throughout. Subsequent spreads offer tips on “teaching an old dino new tricks,” including sit, heel and roll over (“Let's not even go there”), as well as feeding, bathing and other aspects of prehistoric pet ownership. Though the text's humor is sometimes strained, Brown's (Wild About Books) innovative art (gouache paintings of each image in reverse on glass) is consistently entertaining, spotlighting playful dinosaurs and happy children in scenarios that feature electric hues and rich textures, driving home the parting message: “Dinos are for fun!” Ages 5–8. (Oct.)

Is there a better remedy for the back-to-school doldrums than getting to see how Greg Heffley spent his summer vacation? If nothing else, the comedy of errors and indignities he suffers will make readers feel a whole lot better about any family vacation disasters of their own. In the fourth book in Kinney's bestselling Diary of a Wimpy Kid series, Greg has a falling-out with his friend Rowley over a failed lawn-care business, puts up with his parents' attempts to get him out of the house (Mom organizes a book club for boys—who pick out titles like “Sudoku Insanity” and “Ultimate Video Game Cheats”) and tries to shake off the twin horrors of the murderous “muddy hand” from a horror film he watches and the terrifying sights in the men's locker room at the pool. Kinney's gift for telling, pitch-perfect details in both his writing and art remains (such as the cursive script and cutesy content of Mom's photo album captions). No reason to think kids won't devour this book as voraciously as its predecessors. Ages 8–12. (Oct.)

Lieb, executive producer of The Daily Show with Jon Stewart, debuts with a novel about a class election that may appeal to his show's audience as well as middle-schoolers. Oliver Watson has known since infancy that his intellect is several cuts above average. At 12, he's the third richest person in the world, secretly running a global empire while pretending to be mentally vacant (imagine The Simpsons' Ralph Wiggum as a seventh-grader). Oliver's intellectual superiority is equaled by the meanness of his spirit. He enjoys secretly torturing his teachers and describes his adoring mother as “a shapeless, witless mass of mousy hair, belly fat, and boobs.” His pathological disdain for his father, who fondly recalls his own school electoral victory, fuels Oliver's decision to toss his hat in the ring—in order to show up Dad. The ample scatological humor is joined by a few jokes that will sail over the heads of actual seventh-graders, e.g., an aside about the work of Raymond Carver. But these won't keep readers from getting wrapped up in Oliver's malevolence and bile. Ages 12–up. (Oct.)

Tola insists that nothing happened with her art teacher, but nobody seems to believe the high school junior, from her mother (who insists Mr. Mymer “took advantage of my daughter, a vulnerable young girl”) to the vicious readers of a gossip blog called “The Truth About Tola Riley.” Their collective disbelief leaves Tola wondering, “Am I so small, so insignificant that my own story doesn't need me anymore?” Readers will feel like Tola is hiding something, however, and will quickly become engrossed in piecing together what really happened. Ruby (Play Me) parcels out her story slowly, as Tola documents her relationship with Mr. Mymer, who has been suspended from teaching, as well as her family's mounting problems. To fill in details, chapters end with “comments” from other characters, from her mostly absent father to a former friend who uses the Web to spread pain. Readers will likely find the fairy tales Tola is obsessed with to be a clunky device, especially as the book reaches its conclusion; otherwise this is a creatively constructed story with a modern-day scandal layered on top of more traditional teen troubles. Ages 12–up. (Oct.)

Denman (Perfect Revenge) offers a stark and fascinating portrait of a paranoid and delusional teenager. High school student Kit (a formerly popular kid who now sees his friends slipping away) and his friend Ike are obsessed with Ötzi the Iceman (a mummy discovered in the Alps in 1991) and fascinated by the insight into prehistoric man that his frozen body provided. They hatch a plan to gather artifacts of interest to future generations and freeze to death with them on a mountain, ensuring their eternal fame (“All those actors and rock stars—who's going to even know their names?” Ike says. “But a guy who's, like, a messenger from the past, that's special. Extraordinary”). As Kit gathers artifacts and deflects questions from friends and family, he writes a “manifesto” about modern culture and hangs out with the increasingly abusive Ike. Denman deftly gets into the head of a mentally unwell teenager while telling a coherent, engaging story. Few will be surprised by the eventual revelations, but Kit's descent into madness will keep readers hooked, and Denman wisely doesn't pretend that mental illness is easily resolved. Ages 12–up. (Oct.)

Smith's Vietnam-era road trip tells the tense, violent and cathartic story of teenage brothers Jonah and Simon, 16 and 14, on the run after their mother abandons them in their New Mexico home. Their older brother, Matt, plans to desert the army, and the brothers all attempt to meet in Arizona. En route, the boys are given a lift by Mitch and Lilly, on the run from Texas. Lilly is pregnant, and Mitch, whose friendly appearance masks a serious psychosis, is taking her somewhere to have an abortion. By the time Jonah becomes aware of the danger Mitch poses, the boys are already trapped in the car with him, and Jonah's developing relationship with Lilly only fuels Mitch's anger. Smith (Ghost Medicine) paints a picture of a bleak time, with Matt's letters from Vietnam highlighting the depressing and frightening lives soldiers led even as the folks back home faced equally uncertain futures. There are moments of bleak, nasty violence, but they rarely appear gratuitous, instead underlining the despair Jonah and Simon feel, and offering something they must transcend. Ages 13–up. (Oct.)

Can an American teen survive 207 days without junk food and modern conveniences? Budding scientist Catherine (Cat) Locke finds out the answer after embarking on her most ambitious experiment yet: living the lifestyle of a primitive Homo erectus. Cat is determined to win a prize at the science fair and outshine her rival and former friend, Matt, “Mr. I've-Won-More Science-Fairs-Than-Any-of-You,” but that's not her only motivation: she hopes that by following the diet of her ancestors, she'll shed some unwanted pounds. Going without processed food, technology and motorized transportation isn't easy (“A big fat Snickers and a slice of pizza would have made everything so much better”), but Cat learns much about herself and other members of the human species as she observes changes in her body and attitude, while noting how others react to her metamorphosis (namely, she's suddenly juggling the attention of several boys). Well-versed in adolescent emotions and behaviors, Brande (Evolution, Me, and Other Freaks of Nature) offers a fresh, funny portrait of a strong-minded young woman hurdling obstacles and fighting cravings to reach her goal. Ages 12–up. (Oct.)

Henry Dodge is 14 years old in a post-WWII England that is trying to preserve a society in which everyone knows their place, attempts to improve oneself are frowned upon and all are judged by the sins of their fathers. These prejudices have poisoned him, too. Henry scorns his stepfather for wanting to become a teacher, as well as two boys in his class (one is illegitimate and the other a deserter's son) until the interventions of a new teacher, Mr. Finch, and the benevolent Mrs. Beaumont. He needs those friendships and kindnesses when disastrous family secrets begin to unravel and someone he greatly admired turns out to be a possibly lethal threat. Magorian writes children and adults with equal deftness and paints a vivid portrait of 1949 England with all of its best and worst attributes, which often collided. Henry's pain and uncertainty are stark, making him sympathetic even when he's deeply set in his prejudices. Magorian laces hope throughout her novel, and the fact that she offers no easy answers makes the characters' hard-won victories especially heartening. Ages 12–up. (Oct.)

Fitzpatrick debuts with a gripping chiller where humans become pawns in the hands of fallen angels. Nora Grey is assigned a new partner in her sophomore biology class. Her instincts tell her Patch is trouble, and she doesn't like the way he is already inside her head (“Part of me wanted to run away from him screaming, Fire! A more reckless part was tempted to see how close I could get without... combusting”). Soon she is questioning her sanity—she is attacked by a masked figure that smashes her car window, but later the glass is intact. And the same figure ransacks her bedroom, but everything is in place when the police arrive. The violence and danger escalate, and Nora learns that Patch is actually a fallen angel seeking to become human. Fitzpatrick regularly tweaks the tension, resulting in a fast-paced, exhilarating read. Nora's tempestuous relationship with prototypical bad boy Patch is genuinely, even unsettlingly, seductive—fans of paranormal romance should be rapt. Ages 14–up. (Oct.)

Lyga returns to the characters and school from The Astonishing Adventures of Fanboy and Goth Girl, this time writing as Kyra, just released from a mental hospital. Kyra is mad at her dad for committing her, at friends who copy her new all-white clothes look and at a “hypocrite” teacher who espouses feminism but uses her body for attention. She focuses her anger on Fanboy, who played a role in her hospitalization and then ignored her for six months (meanwhile, publishing his comic in the school literary journal and becoming more confident—and popular). But even as Kyra plots revenge, she realizes she has other feelings (“God, I just want to tear his head off. And throw him down on the bed”). Her revenge plans never seem fully credible, but Kyra remains a fierce, unstoppable character. Readers will love getting her side of the story, whether she is raging about sexism in letters to her hero, writer Neil Gaiman, or finally figuring out that the person she needs is “someone who appreciates not just what you do, but how you do it.” Ages 14–up. (Oct.)

It's bad enough that Roz's older sister, Eva, dumped her as a best friend; on top of that, Roz is in love with Eva's boyfriend, Bryan. But Roz begins to suspect that perfect “Eva the Diva” might be a lesbian, so she pretends she is a lesbian and reports back to Eva about what it's like to come out, hence Roz's “invented” life. (Roz comes out in response to a dare on Eva's part, though her decision never feels entirely believable. Is this an attempt to get back in her sister's good graces? A snap action born out of anger?) However, what begins as a lie soon turns into a genuinely eye-opening experience. Bjorkman sets her debut amid the high school theater crowd, peppering Roz's internal narration with imagined scenarios and Shakespearean humor, evoking all the drama inherent in putting on a play. Roz's voice is witty and genuine as she moves through the ups and downs of coming out (and eventually coming clean). Evocative of Boy Meets Boy and Dramarama, this makes for fun, thought-provoking reading. Ages 14–up. (Oct.)

Haines's first book for teens offers an altered version of the modern world, with a public hungry for violent, on-camera combat. Lyn, the “daughter of seven gladiators,” has grown up in Glad culture with a mother who has made a career out of being a Glad wife—she is resigned to public life and the way TV audiences relish making sport out of her family's many tragedies. When Lyn's seventh stepfather is killed in the arena, rules dictate that she be betrothed to her father's murderer, the gladiator Uber. The spotlight turns on Lyn as cameras follow this unlikely, staged courtship, as well as Lyn's eventual trip into the arena to face her fiancé. The novel's present-day Boston setting and pop culture references (designers like Galliano and Jean Paul Gaultier dress the gladiators) feel off, pulling readers out of the story. Haines's neo-Gladiator world hangs on readers' ability to reimagine today's celebrity-obsessed culture accommodating gruesome, televised fights to the death, and shaky world-building makes this a tall order. Ages 14–up. (Oct.)

In a foreword, former president Carter, who became a hands-on participant in Habitat for Humanity after leaving office, notes that in Habitat's homebuilding work he and his wife, Rosalynn, have found a way “to put our faith into practice.” Personal insights from the Carters, other volunteers, Habitat homeowners and several celebrities who have worked with the organization (Jamie Lee Curtis, Garth Brooks) add diverse voices to Rubel's (Scholastic Encyclopedia of the Presidents and Their Times) uplifting account of the group's mission and accomplishments. The book offers many intriguing nuts and bolts, as Rubel offers a chronicle of Habitat's origins and detailed rundowns of construction processes. Especially eye-opening are vignettes about projects in developing countries, where Habitat strives to reconcile modern building methods with local customs (as when “outdoor toilets are the cultural norm and indoor toilets are considered bizarre”). Copious photos of substandard housing in the U.S. and around the world, the Habitat homes that replaced them and the gratified residents who helped build them underscore both the physical and emotional benefits of the group's work. Ages 9–13. (Oct.)

Partridge (This Land Was Made for You and Me: The Life and Songs of Woody Guthrie) tells the unsettling but uplifting story of the Selma to Montgomery March in 1965, using the voices of men and women who participated as children and teenagers. Their stories unfold over 10 chapters that detail voter discrimination and the subsequent meetings and protests that culminated in the famous march. Quotations from Joanne Blackmon Bland (first jailed at age 10), Charles Mauldin (a high school student) and other youths arrested and attacked make for a captivating, personal account. The chronological format builds suspense, while the narrative places readers at church meetings, in jail cells and at the march itself. Italicized lyrics to “freedom songs” are woven throughout, emphasizing the power drawn from music, particularly in the wake of the violence of Bloody Sunday (“They were willing to go out again and face state troopers and mounted posses with whips and tear gas and clubs. The music made them bigger than their defeat, bigger than their fear”). Powerful duotone photographs, which range from disturbing to triumphal, showcase the determination of these civil rights pioneers. Ages 10–up. (Oct.)

Though many children's books about Barack Obama, his family (and their new pet) arrived earlier this year, a few are on deck for fall.

Ruth's concluding note explains that he was “electrified” by the results of the 2008 presidential election and began drawing portraits of Obama, which led to this evocative picture book. The selected excerpts from Obama's speech (also printed in its entirety at the end of the book) only obliquely note the nation's current crises, but make ample use of Obama's numerous historical references: a ship approaches Ellis Island on one half of a spread, facing four slaves harvesting cotton (“For us, they toiled in sweatshops and settled the West, endured the lash of the whip and plowed the hard earth”). Dramatic washes of color are juxtaposed with Ruth's inky paintings of the president and of Americans past and present, as strong brushstrokes define their subjects while creating a tangible sense of movement. With the book's emphasis on common values and backgrounds, readers are likely to come away with a sense of pride, hope and belonging, while recognizing that freedom doesn't come without work. All ages. (Oct.)

With a cover design that echoes that of Jonah Winter's Barack, also illustrated by Ford, this streamlined picture book–biography of the first lady feels tailor-made to pair with that title. Writing with obvious admiration for the first lady, Hopkinson (Abe Lincoln Crosses a Creek) touches on Michelle's childhood years in a loving working-class family, her academic accomplishments, courtship, marriage, careers and role as devoted mother and active supporter of her husband's presidential campaign. The straightforward, accessible text at times assumes dramatic overtones, as when, on Barack Obama's election night, “this night of new beginnings, Michelle stood ready to keep working hard, to help her own children, and children and families across America, make their big dreams come true.” Ford's paintings offer likenesses of Michelle and her family, often capturing facial expressions and nuances of posture and gesture with uncanny realism. This warm, respectful portrait succeeds in presenting its subject as both inspirational and relatable. Ages 4–7. (Oct.)

After citing previous presidential promises, such as when Kennedy promised to land a man on the moon, Weatherford (Racing Against the Odds) moves on to Barack Obama's promise to his daughters that they can get a puppy. While their father campaigned, Malia and Sasha “wore curls and party dresses to join their parents onstage” and “put up with Secret Service agents always on their heels,” believing, the author muses, “it was worth it if they finally got their dog.” Building up to first dog Bo's arrival at the White House, the account spotlights several previous presidents' canines and imagines the process of deciding what kind of dog the family might choose. The story is curiously anticlimactic, providing scant info about Bo, who appears only on the final spread. Rendered in watercolor, pencil and gouache, Bates's (Hillary Rodham Clinton: Dreams Taking Flight) illustrations have a loose, sketchy quality, emphasizing the energetic nature of the various dogs that appear. Ages 4–8. (Nov.)

From inspiration to confession, here are three books to enlighten and entertain.

This small and elegant gift book spotlights 366 quotations from children's books, one for each day of the year. The Spinellis use excerpts from works by such authors as Tomie dePaola, Donna Jo Napoli, Avi, Roald Dahl and Madeleine L'Engle as springboards to provoke contemplation and positive choices. For March 18, a line from Linda Trice's Kenya's World (“ 'What is that music?' Kenya asked. 'It's jazz,' Daddy said. 'Jaaaazz' ”) is followed by a suggestion to give “America's music” a try. While readers may find some sentiments corny (on giving: “Inside me is a miracle waiting to happen... I could give for a thousand years and never use up half of my heart”), the advice offered is genuine and inspiring. Ages 10–up. (Oct.)

Following two earlier “six-word memoir” titles, this addition collects supersuccinct memoirs written by teenagers (who are identified by their first names and last initials). Like graffiti scrawls on a bathroom wall, some are funny (“Contemplated joining circus. Foolishly chose college”), others are poignant (“He said bye with YouTube links,”), while many are bluntly honest (“I regret sleeping with my teacher”). Select b&w illustrations are also included. The range of powerful emotions, expressed in just a few words, make this an ideal pick for teens seeking evocative, easily relatable stories. Ages 12–up. (Sept.)

In the spirit of truth or dare, this pocketbook-sized collection features 500 questions, designed to be used like a party game—the introduction explains the consequences of “passing” on answering any questions (for example, you might have to “Give someone in the room a compliment”). There are offerings both thought provoking (“Could you be friends or lovers with someone whose views are at complete odds with yours?”) and silly (“Hot or not: I.H.O.P.”) as well as moral compass questions like “Your friend gets a speeding ticket while giving you a lift. Do you chip in to pay for the ticket?” Sex and other racy topics get plenty of attention as well: “Describe your ideal orgy. Participants? Location? Activities?” Teens will appreciate that the book doesn't shy from edgy material; parents maybe not. Ages 14–up. (Oct.)