Strobel and Coe (Where Prayer Becomes Real), theology professors at Biola University, outline in this resolute guide how readers can strengthen their faith when they feel isolated from God. They argue that life is divided into joyous, abundant seasons of “consolation” in which believers feel connected to God and confident in their faith, and periods of desertion and desolation from which God appears to be absent. While painful, the periods of desolation allow believers to assess their flaws and brokenness, fostering an appreciation of God’s mercy and a deeper spiritual development. To tackle these seasons, readers must abandon notions that spiritual “progress” is linear, predictable, or subject to human control, and instead focus on bringing their pain, guilt, and despair to Christ “for love and forgiveness.” Strobel and Coe eloquently give voice to the doubts that arise when one’s faith flags, even if the solutions on offer—bringing one’s pain to God and resisting expectations of straightforward spiritual development—are easier said than done. Still, Christians who feel spiritually stuck will get plenty out of this. (Feb.)

Reviewed on 01/09/2026 | Details & Permalink

Zelizer (The Journalism Manifesto), a professor of journalism at the University of Pennsylvania, argues in this intriguing but uneven study that many of America’s journalists “are so caught up in belonging to one side or the other they fail to lay out the stakes that matter most.” She contends that this divisiveness is the result of “us vs. them” habits journalists learned during the Cold War—ranging from political ideologies about American exceptionalism inculcated within reporters themselves, to “access journalism” coverage styles that involved cozying up to officials and editorial tactics for framing stories that tend to devalue one subject’s position relative to another’s. Zelizer’s account serves in part as a captivating history of U.S. media coverage of the Cold War—she describes reporters in full boosterism mode as well as those who lost access to government sources due to critical coverage. The connection between the Cold War and present-day reporting can feel tenuous at times, though her breakdown of the ways in which Palestinians are devalued in American news stories is fascinating, and her critique of the patness of American journalism has bite (many reporters use “familiar scripts in a business-as-usual fashion... however irrelevant they might be,” she contends). This impassioned reflection on journalistic ethics is at its best when it zeroes in on how professional laziness festers into something more dangerous. (Nov.)

Reviewed on 01/09/2026 | Details & Permalink

The intriguing latest in Hiarhara’s Japantown series (after Evergreen) centers on Ryunosuke “Louie” Wada, an 18-year-old orphan who leaves Yokohama, Japan, for the immigrant hub of sunny Pasadena, Calif., at the turn of the 20th century. Louie was trained in carpentry by his father, a master craftsman who was killed in a work accident not long after Louie’s mother died of tuberculosis. After accepting a carpentry apprenticeship in Pasadena and surviving a turbulent ocean journey, Louie moves into a seedy boarding house, where he meets Jack, a mysterious photographer; the Boyles, a pair of rowdy Irish brothers; and Gigi, a beautiful Japanese seamstress. Louie’s hired to work the annual cherry blossom dinner at a nearby hotel, where a painting owned by the event’s host, Japanese American artist Toshio Aoki, is stolen. Louie and Jack volunteer to locate the thieves, fancying themselves budding PIs, and Gigi also asks them to track down a man who owes her money. From there, the friends plunge into a vividly rendered, bygone Pasadena, full of opium dens, political corruption, and anti-Asian sentiment. Their adventures are delightfully escapist if a bit thinly plotted. Hirahara’s done better, but this is still an immersive treat. Agent: Susan Cohen, PearlCo Literary. (Feb.)

Reviewed on 01/09/2026 | Details & Permalink

Songwriter McWhirter recounts in his candid debut how God helped him recover from addiction. The author grew up with a charismatic preacher father who frequently abused his mother. At age 11, he began experimenting with alcohol to numb the pain. Convinced he would never be able to “trust a heavenly Father when I was so badly hurt by my earthly one,” McWhirter, who had started using crystal meth at age 17, recalls realizing that he’d likely die prematurely due to his addiction. After years spent “fighting against faith,” his sister gifted him Lee Strobel’s The Case for Christ, which unexpectedly sparked a connection with God (“In the blink of an eye, I went from addiction to redemption, from darkness to destiny”). Drawing from these experiences, McWhirter reminds readers that salvation is available to all, that they can use their unique talents to serve God, and that loving others is foundational to a strong faith. He strikes an upbeat tone without sugarcoating the challenges he’s faced, including the agonizing process of eventually forgiving his father. This will inspire believers in search of a fresh start. (Feb.)

Reviewed on 01/09/2026 | Details & Permalink

The evolution of money is intricately tied to major developments in politics, science, and art, according to this insightful history. Economist McWilliams (The Pope’s Children) begins in ancient Sumeria, where municipal granaries functioned much like central banks, issuing long-term loans that got people thinking about the future as opportunity and about “the price of time.” He moves on to the invention of coins, which democratized money by letting ordinary people shape the economy to their needs rather than elite dictates. The Roman empire, he suggests, collapsed in part because emperors reduced the silver content of coins, an early instance of inflation destroying trust in government. Medieval Florence developed fractional reserve banking, wherein banks create money by issuing loans beyond the value of their deposits, along with double-entry bookkeeping, both of which fixated European minds on precise numerical analysis in the lead-up to the Age of Reason. McWilliams goes on to cover everything from the 18th-century invention of “fiat” currency (at first a disaster leading to major market crashes, but ultimately a boon for growth) through cryptocurrency, which he describes as an “elaborate scam.” Among the narrative’s many fascinating asides, an account of James Joyce’s financing of a Dublin movie theater prompts a rich disquisition on the resonances between entrepreneurship and art. It makes for a remarkably humanistic view of mere lucre. (Nov.)

Reviewed on 01/09/2026 | Details & Permalink

Mount Shasta, Calif., high school senior Izumi Tanaka is a normal 18-year-old American girl: she enjoys baking, watching Real Housewives, and dressing like “Lululemon’s sloppy sister.” But Japanese American Izzy, conceived during a one-night stand in her mother Hanako’s final year at Harvard, has never known the identity of her father. So when she and her best friend find a letter in Hanako’s bedroom, the duo jump at the chance to ferret out Izzy’s dad’s true identity—only to find out he’s the Crown Prince of Japan. Desperate to know her father, Izzy agrees to spend the summer in his home country. But press surveillance, pressure to quickly learn the language and etiquette, and an unexpected romance make her time in Tokyo more fraught than she imagined. Add in a medley of cousins and an upcoming wedding, and Izzy is in for an unforgettable summer. Abrupt switches from Izzy’s perspective to lyrical descriptions of Japan may disrupt readers’ enjoyment, but a snarky voice plus interspersed text conversations and tabloid coverage keep the pages turning in Jean’s (Empress of All Seasons) fun, frothy, and often heartfelt duology starter. Ages 12–up. Agent: Erin Harris, Folio Literary Management. (May)

Reviewed on 05/07/2021 | Details & Permalink

Kelkar’s (Bindu’s Bindis) novel features Oceanview Academy middle schooler Sonali, whose stoicism contrasts with her love of Bollywood movies’ melodrama. Stuck in a Los Angeles home with constantly arguing parents and her sensitive nine-year-old brother Ronak, Gujarati American Sonali, 11, tries to make sense of her world through the Hindi movies she’s seen all her life. Ever since an earnest public attempt five years ago to stop her parents’ fighting led to widespread embarrassment in front of family, Sonali has resolved to hide her emotions and do her best to ignore her parents’ arguments. But her efforts prove futile when her parents decide to try the “nesting” method of separation, where they take turns living in the house with Sonali and Ronak. The contemporary narrative takes an entertaining fabulist turn as Sonali’s life begins to transform into a Bollywood movie, with everything she feels and thinks made apparent through her “Bollywooditis.” Sonali’s first-person perspective is sympathetic as she navigates friendship and family drama, and Kelkar successfully infuses a resonant narrative with “filmi magic,” offering a tale with universal appeal through an engaging cultural lens. Ages 8–12. Agent: Kathleen Rushall, Andrea Brown Literary. (May)

Reviewed on 05/07/2021 | Details & Permalink

When she was six, Justice Kasric watched her blue-eyed merchant father play chess with the Faerie King. Now 15, Justice believes the event was merely a dream. She spends her days yearning for adventure, watching from the sidelines while her 16-year-old sister Faith, as slender and golden-haired as Justice but not as curious, becomes the toast of Victorian London society. One night, however, their father shatters their comfortable lifestyles when he forces the family—Justice, Faith, their younger brother Henry, and their constantly medicated, distant mother—into a locked carriage that takes them to a shadowy mansion. Justice’s discovery that the Faerie have invaded the human world and are targeting her family gains further urgency when she learns that her parents are on opposite sides of the conflict. Together, the Kasric siblings—including older brothers Benedict and Joshua—must find a way to save their family. While characters lack depth at times, and insufficient historical details don’t fully evoke the Victorian setting, Klaver’s (the Supernatural Case Files of Sherlock Holmes series) rich, lyrical descriptions augment the fantastical source material in this engaging series starter. Ages 13–up. Agent: Lucienne Diver, the Knight Agency. (May)

Reviewed on 05/07/2021 | Details & Permalink

Nine years before this novel begins, eight-year-old best friends Esme Randal and Kayla Price snuck out of their cabin at Camp Pine Lake in Texas. They swore never to discuss the terrible events that followed, but when the girls, now 17, return to the camp as counselors-in-training from their hometown of Lewisburg, Pa., that proves easier said than done. Someone begins sabotaging camp activities, and ominous—and increasingly public—threats appear, referencing that fateful summer. The only other person who knows Esme and Kayla’s secret is a local girl named Lillian Campbell, whom they left to fend for herself that night in the woods. They’re loath to voice their suspicions of revenge lest they get in trouble or look bad in front of hunky fellow counselors Jake and Olly, but as events escalate, they realize they may not have a choice. Narrating from Esme’s increasingly apprehensive first-person perspective, Preston (The Twin) pays homage to classic summer camp slasher films. The underdeveloped, predominantly white cast relies heavily on stereotype, and the clichéd tormenter’s motive feels unearned, but horror fans will likely appreciate this paranoia-fueled tale’s gruesome, shocking close. Ages 12–up. Agent: Jon Elek, United Agents. (Mar.)

Reviewed on 05/07/2021 | Details & Permalink

Inspired by her own family’s refugee journey from Vietnam to Hong Kong, Văn’s (If You Were Night) spare picture book, powerful in its deliberate simplicity, follows a black-haired, pale-skinned child as they, their guardian, and two younger siblings join other asylum seekers for a perilous maritime voyage. In a third-person voice, Văn anthropomorphizes objects, relaying their wishes: “The dream wished it was longer,” one spread reads, as a balding, mustached guardian holds the protagonist close, and a guardian with a bun rouses the second child to dress them. “The clock wished it was slower,” the subsequent pages read, as the two children tearfully hug their mustached guardian goodbye. The narrative continues as the now family of four make their way onto the boat and beyond. A final-act switch to first-person perspective drives home the journey’s personal nature. Intricate, lissome fine-lined art by Ngai (Dazzle Ships) recalls classical Asian compositions, Japanese woodblock prints, and an evocative sensibility in a gradated, surrealistic color palette. A seamless interweaving of elegant prose and atmospheric art marks this affecting immigrant narrative. Back matter includes heartfelt author’s and illustrator’s notes. Ages 4–8. (May)

Correction: A previous version of this review misquoted the book's text.

Reviewed on 05/07/2021 | Details & Permalink