I won’t lie, seeing this book (or any) pitched as a retelling of The Beauty and the Beast is what caught my eye. I am what the kids call “a sucker.” But we can unpack all that later.
Brielle and Bear might have the vague skeleton of the classic fairy tale it was based on, but it definitely has its own narrative—a fact that I think is a positive for the story.
That being said, this story is a little hard to get into. There is certainly a lot to like, but ultimately this book is the opposite of the whole being greater than the sum of its parts.
Brielle is our heroine, and she knows it. She exudes Main Character Confidence and narrates her life using a set of rules that she pulled from her familiarity with fairy tales. She meets Atohi “Bear” Yona while at work at Once Upon A Time University’s bookshop. It’s charmed at first sight, and the story expands on their relationship and the friends they surround themselves with.
Before I get into criticism, let’s look at what slaps:
The art is gorgeous. Brielle and Bear is full of color, whimsy, visual motifs, and beautiful homage to both western-style animation and manga. The atmosphere (and names of every location and character) is very dreamy and perfect for this fairy tale-esque story.
The cast is very diverse. The author specifically wrote that she wanted to create a cast that reflected her time at university, and there was care taken to make every identity unique and specific.
There is some very kind and sympathetic discussion of neurodiversity and physical disability. Brielle has vitiligo, it is seen as running in her family. Bear has dyslexia. One of the things I thought was really beautiful about the story was how much Bear enjoys writing poetry and reading—passions that I do no typically see paired with this particular condition.
Unfortunately, each of these items tend to fall apart under close scrutiny. The art for the settings and environments and locations is so beautiful, but it tends not get center stage with lots of rendering and color. The line drawings are beautiful, but the structures sit with a selected color pallet for the page and remain, well, in the background. It is a logical choice, but it does feel like leaving free points on the floor.
The cast is diverse, but then what? Apart from some phrases in Spanish, this is an aspect of the story that is not referenced or acknowledged. Again, perhaps I have misinterpreted this choice. It might be nice to just see this as a way things are, without it being worthy of commentary.
The vitiligo and dyslexia do pertain to the plot, but it is incredibly minimal. Each character has already overcome the trauma and difficulty that comes with having these conditions. I would say this is consistent through the story as a whole – the stakes are incredibly low. I was never worried about a resolution to an issue, and each issue was small; the biggest one being 2 arguments between Brielle and Bear that are resolved through straightforward communication.
I fear this comic is trying to push its fairy tale origins into its pages, but there really is no need for that. There doesn’t seem to be any magical elements to this world—there are no spells, curses, prophecies, and certainly no beasts. I would have liked to see this story develop on its own, flown far from its magical origins. It sounds like more volumes are coming out, and maybe those books will address some of my concerns, but for now, this story is a slice of cake that is mostly frosting.
Although I personally didn’t enjoy this narrative, I would encourage everyone to look at Doku’s website to look at the visual development journey that these illustrations went on—they are simply gorgeous.
NOTE: Author is black and from England; African-American was picked as creator representation as this was the closest option that is available through NFNT.
Brielle and Bear By Salomey Doku Harper Collins, 2024 ISBN: 9780008617561
Company Age Rating: 13+
NFNT Age Recommendation: Older Teen (16-18), Teen (13-16) Creator Representation: African-American, Character Representation: African-American, First Nations or Indigenous, Disability,
Nothing inspires heated discourse more than an adaptation of a beloved novel with a longstanding fanbase. Will it capture the essence of the author’s vision? Is it even possible to do well? Ursula K. Le Guin’s 1968 popular fantasy novel, A Wizard of Earthsea, has been adapted many times before, often in ways disappointing to Le Guin. But seeing that her son, Theo Downes-Le Guin, worked closely with writer and illustrator Fred Fordham, I was intrigued to see this new interpretation.
Downes-Le Guin, now the steward of some of his mother’s books following her passing in 2018, was especially concerned about preserving the language and the diversity of the expansive world of Earthsea. Much to Le Guin’s disappointment, some previous adaptations whitewashed her characters, particularly the main character, Ged, who is described by Le Guin as copper-skinned. Fordham, fortunately, portrays Ged and other characters according to her original vision. He’s a good choice for an adaptation on this scale, having written and illustrated well received adaptations of Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird and Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World, as well as collaborations on other adaptations of classic works.
What initially pulled me into the graphic novel was the stunning cover art. An overhead view of Ged walking alone on an unnamed island shore, waves at his back, his shadow long and blurred behind him is a beautiful, if not mysterious, way to enter into Earthsea. I found myself fast becoming a fan of Fordham’s art, finding it gorgeous and soft, where every line feels precisely placed. The watercolor details give the imagery the right amount of whimsy for a fantasy of this caliber. And as mentioned before, Fordham preserves the diversity of characters, but also location. He plays with color and lighting to give each new place a unique feel.
The text is largely taken directly from the novel, borrowing the grandiose and epic feel of Le Guin’s striking language. I was worried the story couldn’t be told adequately while cutting out enough text to fit the graphic novel format, however, Fordham shows his skill here and accomplishes more with minimal text, and expertly utilizes silence to portray some very poignant moments in the narrative.
The plot follows the book pretty faithfully. Ged, who will one day be known as a great and powerful wizard, starts out life as a proud and impulsive boy on the island of Gont. At a young age Ged shows skill with spells and summoning animals, and while Gont is known to produce wizards, his power seems greater than expected.
He learns what he can of magic from his aunt, the local village witch, but quickly masters all she can teach him. When raiders attack his village he summons an impressive mist, hiding the villagers and terrifying the invaders. The spell saves the day but drains him of his energy, leaving him utterly unresponsive. Once tales of his power reach surrounding villages, Ogion, a kind, elderly wizard intrigued by Ged’s abilities, comes to heal Ged and offers to make him an apprentice. But Ged’s restlessness and urge to master power pushes him to access a dangerous spell. It becomes apparent that Ged might require another path through wizardry, and although he’s formed a deep bond with his master, he opts to leave both Ogion and Gont for the isle of Roke where he will learn from the great masters.
Now a teenager, Ged is introduced to other boys like himself and forms a great friendship in the kindly Vetch, and a great rivalry in the arrogant Jasper. He begins to learn from masterful wizards about the delicate equilibrium of the world and how magic can destroy it if handled recklessly, but his pride still eats at him. Egged on by Jasper, he attempts to prove the strength of his power by summoning an ancient spirit of the dead. In doing so he toys with the balance and summons a mysterious and vicious shadow into the world, putting himself and all those around him in danger.
Filled with regret, Ged quickly grows up under the magical protections on Roke until he finally and solemnly earns his wizard’s staff. Realizing he must leave Roke without knowing how to face the deadly shadow chasing him, he initially decides to flee until he can right the wrong he created. On his journey to discover the secret of the shadow’s demise he finds dragons to battle, old friends and new, and the edges of the known world.
This is a difficult story to distill down, but Fordham does a good job bringing out the important points from the novel to show Ged’s growth and journey. However, whenever adapting a novel like this into a shorter format, some things will get lost in translation. In this case, there is a loss of depth in the storytelling where the graphic novel is not able to fully explore characters, relationships, or situations as well as the novel. I don’t believe this lessens the quality of the story significantly, but I could see someone new to Le Guin finding themselves a little lost in areas where the narrative moves quickly.
The publisher has given an age rating of 13 and up, and I see no reason to disagree. There is very little in the way of content warnings to worry about, but death is depicted and is central to the story, and this includes animal death. Some of this is handled off screen or in silhouette, and as someone who is deeply and easily disturbed by depictions of animal death and harm, I did not struggle with any of the imagery. I found myself wanting to explore more from both Le Guin and Fordham and would recommend A Wizard of Earthsea for any teen or adult graphic novel collection. I think it’s a great way for not only fans, but those new to Earthsea, or maybe those reluctant to read the novel, to get excited about Le Guin’s work.
A Wizard of Earthsea A Graphic Novel By Ursula K. Le Guin Art by Fred Fordham Harper Collins, 2025 ISBN: 9780063285767
Company Age Rating: 13+ NFNT Age Recommendation: Adult (18+), Older Teen (16-18), Teen (13-16)
Author and artist James Spooner shares his story of discovering the punk scene as a Black teenager during the late 1980s in The High Desert: Black. Punk. Nowhere.
Spooner moved to a majority White area in California with his White mom (his dad was a Black bodybuilder who lived in Brooklyn) during his high school years. While trying to find where he fit in, skateboarding videos introduced him to punk music, “…the first time I found music that matched my emotions,” (24). The music led him to new friends, a new style and expression, and lent him a veneer of toughness to hide his deeper emotions behind. As the story progresses, James is exposed to the drug scene, white supremacy and Nazi skinheads. He also learns about the Black influence on punk music, intersectionality, and radical political activism.
During a crucial visit to his dad in Brooklyn during winter break, Spooner meets socially involved punks and discovers new bands through them. More importantly, he begins to understand that punk isn’t just about nonconformity and disdain towards authority. Punk is about questioning and disrupting potentially harmful norms, using one’s voice, and collaborating with others to seek social justice and foster inclusivity. “If punk rock was teaching me anything, it’s that us kids have power,” (344). This lesson was vital for the politically and socially focused adult Spooner would become.
The book first caught my eye because of the bold, expressive art. The grayscale illustrations with rich splashes of opaque black are dynamic and character-driven. Lyrics from songs by Black Flag, Minor Threat, Wasted Youth, and other bands populate the pages, with footnotes that include the song and band names. Flipping through and seeing the punk outfits, haircuts, and depictions of teenage life during that time period intrigued me enough to take on the 300+ page memoir. This is a graphic novel with art that tells the story as much as the text does.
This book is great for adult readers, but you don’t have to have any special interest in memoir, punk music, or activism to enjoy it. The universal themes of The High Desert and the wonderful art should appeal to any adult graphic novel enthusiast.
The High Desert: Black. Punk. Nowhere. By James Spooner Harper Collins, 2022 ISBN: 9780358659112
NFNT Age Recommendation: Adult (18+)
Creator Representation: Black Character Representation: Black
Life is difficult and emotions get in the way, so when surgery to numb the pain and remove hearts becomes available, people are intrigued. No need to suffer through the pain and grief from loss. Everyone, it seems, signs up for the procedure. Everyone, but June. The Faint of Heart by Kerilynn Wilson is a beautifully crafted graphic novel that explores the importance of emotional connections.
June feels alone with a heart in a world without them. Her family is dismissive, she no longer has friends, and teachers chastise her for imperfection. With no heart, all emotions are numbed, not just the painful ones. No more emotional distractions to get in the way of success in school and work. Relationships lose their importance, and family life becomes cold and calculated. But once numbed, these sacrifices no longer feel relevant.
June is different, She is an artist and she cherishes her emotions. She observes her friends and family that alongside the loss of pain, also lose empathy and interpersonal connections. June becomes more and more determined, not only to keep her heart but to help those who are numbed to begin to feel again. It is more complicated than she anticipated, but with the help of a friend, who despite the loss of a heart, is beginning to experience emotions again, June goes on a mission to find the scientist who started this whole thing.
The Faint of Heart is being marketed as a YA mixture of Eternal Sunshine for the Spotless Mind and Severance. It is a well-crafted story that explores some of the same themes related to love, loss, and definitions of success or happiness. It is an analysis of our relationships with ourselves and each other. These themes may resonate with teens who face a daunting future as they navigate new and difficult emotions and relationships.
Wilson’s artwork is gorgeous. Just as our emotions bridge connections with others, wisps of fibers connect panes across some page spreads, She also expertly uses color throughout the book. Many of the illustrations are in black and white with splashes of yellow, orange, and blue to illustrate heart and emotion. As the story progresses, and the emotions begin to shift, so does the use of color. Her illustrations help to illuminate the beauty in life that would be lost without emotional connections.
This is Wilson’s debut graphic novel and hopefully is an indicator of great stories to come. The illustrations in The Faint of Heart are exquisite and beautifully capture the characters and themes from Wilson’s story. It will be purchased for my high school collection, where I am confident it will find a number of readers. With a mixture of science-fiction and a character-centered story, it will appeal to readers from a number of genres, whether or not they are new to the graphic novel format. I recommend it for graphic novel collections serving teens and older middle-grade readers.
The Faint of Heart By Kerilynn Wilson Harper Collins, 2023 ISBN: 9780063116214
Publisher Age Rating: 13 and U
NFNT Age Recommendation: Older Teen (16-18), Teen (13-16)
After years of being homeschooled, Zoey McIntyre is about to become an eighth grader at Hawthorne Middle School. She’s more than a little anxious about it, since she doesn’t exactly have friends or really know how to have friends, but her parents are sure she’ll fit in just fine. They don’t know she’ll be relying on help on the app she’s been secretly developing. In The Cool Code written by Deirdre Langeland with art by Sarah Mai, we follow along with Zoey and her eventful first few months at her new school.
The daughter of two coders, twelve year old Zoey (or Zonut, as her dad lovingly calls her) grew up with technology in the forefront. For every problem, there’s a possible solution in an app. She created Cool Code to help her navigate the world around her and middle school is putting it to the test. Throw in C.C., the adorable llama mascot of Cool Code and Zoey’s voice of influence, and it’s a recipe for popularity!
At Hawthorne, Zoey meets David and Morgan, the members of the coding club. When they learn about her app and vast knowledge of coding, they decide to work together to make it the perfect solution for the problem of fitting in in middle school. They devour every bit of media about what it means to be cool and popular to program the app to be unstoppable. But when C.C. 2.0 turns out to be a complete monster, focused only on popularity and actively hurting Zoey’s new friendships, she discovers that programming doesn’t always have the answers for real life.
One of the main takeaways from The Cool Code is that sometimes you have to do what’s right for you, not what the algorithm says. This message has the potential to be very important to young readers who feel the temptation and influence of social media apps in their daily lives. Zoey finds herself not fitting in but getting by, as she says, all because she is only doing what C.C. tells her is worth doing. Langeland’s writing doesn’t come off as preachy here; instead, the absurdity of C.C. and how far out the story goes works to get the message across clearly.
Zoey’s parents become background characters as the book progresses. They are so into their latest coding project that she finds them progressively distant and straight up ignoring her. The resolution at the end of the book and the honesty Zoey shares with her mother may inspire readers who find themselves with parents who are inseparable from their desks, even if they aren’t even leaving the house to go to work.
The Cool Code has a very distinctive art style that is very bright and vivid. The characters’ facial expressions are so strong, we can tell what they’re thinking without even reading the words on the page. Mai’s art style is another element that makes this book stand out, it is something different in the world of middle grade graphic novels.
Kids struggling to make sense of fitting in or those dealing with anxiety will find themselves wrapped up in The Cool Code. It will also be an appealing read for fans of Kayla Miller’s Click series and Terri Libenson’s Emmie and Friendsseries. It also would work great in book clubs and for group discussions.
The Cool Code By Deirdre Langeland Art by Sarah Mai Harper Collins Harper Alley, 2022 ISBN: 9780358549314
Publisher Age Rating: 8-12
NFNT Age Recommendation: Middle Grade (7-11), Tween (10-13)
Critics of graphic novels will often say that reading graphic novels isn’t truly reading and nothing could be further from the truth. While there might not be as many words within a graphic novel, the pictures themselves are there to help tell a story. Much in the same way directors and cinematographers must think about lighting and composition when making a movie, so must the artist work together with the writer to help create the setting, the characters, and even events that help move the story along. Therefore, graphic novel adaptations of popular works are not a dumbed-down version of the story, but tells the story in a different way. This is the case for the graphic adaptation of Mary Downing Hahn’s Wait Till Helen Comes, illustrated by Meredith Laxton and Russ Badgett.
Those who remember Hahn’s tale of middle school hauntings and family drama will find the same story beats here. The story still follows siblings Molly and Michael, who are annoyed by their younger stepsister Heather who does everything she can to get Molly and Michael in trouble. The blended family move out to the country where, in the graveyard near their home, Heather discovers a grave belonging to a girl named Helen. She soon starts to threaten her step-siblings that they will be sorry because Helen is coming. Helen might not be as dead as Molly and Michael thought, and she seems to be willing to do whatever Heather asks.
Hahn’s stories are just the right fit for young readers who like just a little scary, even if adults might find it tiresome. There are elements of genuine spookiness and dramatic tension in this adaption by Scott Peterson, but adults especially might notice that there is no real sense that anything too terrible will happen. Sure, the blended family is a great source of conflict, particularly when Heather’s dad takes up for his daughter no matter what she does, but those dynamics aren’t the story’s focus; instead, it focuses on Molly, Heather, and Helen. Heather and Helen have a very parallel narrative while Molly, as the main protagonist, is the one who must develop some kind of sisterly bond with a sister she and the readers can barely tolerate. Adults might call this kind of story “Terror with Training Wheels,” but it’s perfect for kids who want a bit of terror beyond R. L. Stine’s Goosebumps.
The artwork by Laxton and Badgett isn’t spectacular splash pages and precariously placed panels. Instead it simply serves the purpose of moving the story along. Fans of Hahn’s original stories might like to see if their version of Molly fits into how she is drawn here, but they will also see Helen as a ghost who could easily be a living character painted white and having access to a fog machine. There are a few moments when Heather warns her older siblings that Helen is coming, and they can see her expression turn slightly sinister, but the artwork here isn’t designed to dazzle the reader.
But does this basic approach make this graphic novel adaptation a bad one? To answer such a question, it’s important to ask why go through the trouble of adapting a well-known story into a graphic novel format. There are possibilities to experiment with how the story is told, or even how it’s portrayed. Different looks for Heather and Helen could have made the book even scarier, but that might distract from its purpose to introduce Hahn’s stories to fans of graphic novels. The book might not be breaking new ground in this story, but it is perhaps a less intimidating introduction to Hahn’s work and to juvenile horror in general. This adaptation of Wait Till Helen Comes is still asking young readers to process how the pictures and words tell a story, which may lead into a deeper appreciation of graphic novels and, in general, of reading.
Wait Till Helen Comes By Mary Downing Hahn, Scott Peterson Art by Meredith Laxton, Russ Badgett Harper Collins, 2022 ISBN: 9780358536901
There are major changes happening in Bree’s life. She and her dad are moving to Florida, where he’ll be doing double duty in a training program and as a delivery driver. She’s leaving her whole life in Brooklyn behind, but hey, maybe she’ll see a gator or manatee around her new home. Their move kicks off Swim Team, by Johnnie Christmas, a middle grade graphic novel about facing your biggest fears and the strength that can come with changes.
Bree can’t wait to start at Enith Brigitha Middle School, named after the first Black woman to medal in swimming in the Olympics. Swimming seems to be a pretty big deal all over this new town. Even the diner has swimming themed names for their dishes! But for Bree, it’s not even an option. She’s ready to join the Math Club and take the Math Puzzles elective, two things she adores.
Until Bree finds out that Math Puzzles is full, along with every other elective she’s interested in. The only one left with space is. . . Swim 101. There are no puzzles in swimming! Just the thought of going near a pool fills her with dread. Plus, that annoying voice in her head keeps popping up to remind her that she’s doomed, it’s her fault she can’t swim, and maybe she should just hide in the locker room.
When Bree falls into their apartment complex’s pool, Ms. Etta, her neighbor and fellow puzzle lover, rescues her and offers to help her conquer her fear of the water, setting off a chain of events that kick the story into full gear. Can Bree overcome her fear of the water and make it onto the team? Will the Mighty Manatees finally beat their rivals, Holyoke Prep, and go all the way?
Throughout the book, Ms. Etta shares swimming history with Bree. Eventually, Bree admits she’s nervous because, “Black people aren’t good at swimming.” Using the ongoing metaphor of puzzles, Ms. Etta puts the history of Black swimming in America together. She explains the years of racist segregation laws limiting and preventing Black people from using pools, beaches, and other recreational facilities, as well as the violence committed by white people against Black people for using these public spaces. Together, the puzzle pieces slowly come together, but not without Ms. Etta acknowledging there are still problems faced today with swimming continuing to be inaccessible and the need for it to be more diverse.
Swim Team is full of characters with realistic, distinctive personalities, including the group of swimming bullies from Holyoke Prep and the many adults in Bree’s life. Every character we’re introduced to is more than just what they initially appear. Readers will find someone to relate to and find themselves cheering for Bree and the rest of the team. To extend the metaphor, by the book’s end, all the pieces fall into their right spot and multiple puzzles are solved.
The art is colorful and highly detailed. One particular highlight is the dark clouds that surround Bree when she is anxious, her worst fears coming alive around her. These overpower the pages, much like these thoughts do for anyone dealing with anxiety and fear on their own. The swimming scenes are another highlight of the art, as well as the frequent puzzle imagery.
Readers will find themselves rooting for Bree and might even walk away with a newfound interest in swimming themselves. If you know a reader who loved New Kid looking for their next poolside read, Swim Team is right up their lane.
Swim Team By Johnnie Christmas Harper Collins Harper Alley, 2022 ISBN: 9780063056763
Publisher Age Rating: 8 to 12
NFNT Age Recommendation: Middle Grade (7-11), Tween (10-13) Creator Representation: Black Character Representation: Black, Anxiety
In some ways, And Now I Spill The Family Secrets reads like a police file or murder board, carefully drafted forensics shots of the crime scene as a frame for analysis: transcripts of conversations, reproductions of documents, photographs of persons of interest. It is a reconstruction of an adolescence, a reconstruction of a family. I was two thirds of the way through reading it before I realized I hadn’t seen dialog and faces at the same time, that it was so thoroughly different from most graphic novels I’ve ever read. The emotional strength of the narration, the way the story is laid out, drew me in and made me stay up late to get just a few more chapters in. It’s curiously engaging, the people we see are only drawings of photographs, to give us just as much context as the meticulous interiors of apartments and houses. There’s no visual action, no living characters on the page, only in the words.
The book begins with a moment all too familiar to those with a much recorded and photographed childhood, hearing a truth or context that changes something you mostly only “remember” via photos and videos. Is she an unreliable narrator or is what she knows about her family predicated on incomplete understanding and information? Over the course of the book she moves back and forth between the modern day and stories about the past, including her grandmother’s early life and the time her grandmother and mother have spent hospitalized. Extensive documentation comes with the parts that aren’t about Kimball herself, or conversations and asides about why she can only get scant information about some areas. The bulk of the story is about her childhood and teen years, growing up in the ’90s with divorced parents and the strange trajectory of her father’s second marriage. The story focuses on what family means day to day, for supporting one another, and what it might mean as pathology for mental illness.
The art is draftsman style line art of buildings, inside and out, with varying gray washes for shading. Despite the lack of characters and action in the locations, the narration and minute personal details (a label for the location of a memory, haphazard shoes on the floor) makes the pages buzz with the same emotional connection you might have looking at a photo of your childhood home. Kimball excels at transferring that experience to the reader. The interiors are can be claustrophobic and there are times when she lets a bubbled conversation unfurl over a black background or highlights just one image swimming in black.
It’s an arresting memoir but not good graphic medicine. It doesn’t claim to be graphic medicine but it seems important to make the distinction when so much of the book is about bipolar disorder and schizophrenia and there are still so few realistic depictions of those in literature of any kind. Dr Ian Williams, the founder of graphicmedicine.org and the one who coined the new genre term “graphic medicine” defines it as the “intersection between the medium of comics and the discourse of healthcare.” For all of her extensive family history excavation, she doesn’t place a lot of context on their experiences against fuller knowledge or information about mental illness. It feels like she offers her mother’s bipolar disorder as a condition to explain a lot in her life without making it clear that it’s an individualized experience, that many people are capable of getting it under control, that many others struggle at finding a good medication or at staying on their medication. Maybe part of that was not going into more detail on what her mother’s actual treatments have been and respecting her privacy, but the few Kay Redfield Jamison quotes about mania and depression just made me want a lot more context. Even the mention of her mother’s spending binges (common symptoms of mania) being hints isn’t fleshed out for people who don’t already know that detail about bipolar.
I recommend this book for anyone who enjoys family history memoirs and wants to read more about how children experience divorce, a good read-alike for Fun Home. Because the connection between the art and the text is more illustrative than carrying the story the way other graphic novels do, it may be more accessible to people who aren’t familiar with graphic novels or worry about “missing” something in trying to navigate back and forth between pictures and text. It would be a good choice for a book group as there’s a lot to talk about in Kimabll’s intentions and how her family’s wishes contradict the story. There’s no content that would cause any issues beyond the frank discussions of suicide and mental illness. Older teens might find it interesting but the level of introspection will be better appreciated by adults. Readers who are interested in graphic medicine depicting schizophrenia and bipolar should try Swallow Me Whole by Nate Powell, States of Mind by Patrice Guillon and Emilie Guillon, and Marbles by Ellen Forney.
And Now I Spill the Family Secrets By Margaret Kimball Harper Collins, 2021 ISBN: 9780063007444
Riley doesn’t feel as if she fits into the social world of her 5th grade class. No one seems to understand her and perhaps she doesn’t quite understand herself, either. She does know that she loves to draw, tell jokes, and watch the comedian Joy Powers. Riley hopes to attend art lessons, but her parents require that she improve her grades and stop getting in trouble at school. This might be tougher than it sounds with a class full of cliques and a teacher that seems to find fault with everything Riley does. Riley’s mom encourages her that if she reaches out, she’ll find people who get her. A girl named Cate recognizes Riley’s drawing talents and asks her to illustrate some stories for her. But Cate’s behavior seems to depend on whether mean girl Whitney is around. The new kid at school, Aaron, has two dads which Riley finds interesting, but Aaron gets upset when Riley accidentally lets her classmates know about Aaron’s dads before he was ready to tell them. When Riley cuts her hair short, Whitney spreads the rumor that Riley is a lesbian, and Riley starts to think her interest in comedian Joy Powers might be more like a crush. All of this makes for a very confusing time at school. Through many ups and downs and with the help of a supportive family, Riley comes through it all feeling as though people are starting to see who she truly is, and that she has friends who like her for her real self.
Author/illustrator Rachel Eliott includes an introductory letter to the reader explaining the semi-autobiographical nature of the story reflecting her own childhood love of Carol Burnett. She encourages readers to reach out and find others who get them, just as Riley does. This message is prevalent throughout the story. The Real Riley Mayes has strong messages of LGBTQIA acceptance, but beyond that, it speaks to the child who may feel different or unaccepted among their peers for any reason. The book’s conclusion, while not tying everything up too neatly, still encourages readers to seek out connections with others and to meet them half-way. Riley doesn’t find another student with a Joy Powers obsession, but she does find friends with whom she can share common ground. At first, Riley thinks Cate’s fascination with Nyan cats is weird, but she learns to understand it, just as Cate learns to understand her. In the end, Riley collaborates with both Cate and Aaron on a comic book about all of their interests, and this pulls other students in, as well.
The full-color illustrations in muted shades are reminiscent of a young girl’s drawings, with childlike whimsy and imagination. The illustrations contribute greatly to the humor of the book with an honest portrayal of Riley’s unusual clothing choices and many dream sequences, as well as some physical comedy in Riley’s real-world experiences. The reader can understand why Riley doesn’t quite fit in with the other girls at school, but she’s also shown with sympathy and endearing spunk.
The Real Riley Mayes is a good addition to youth and elementary school collections. It not only provides another title in an area where more representation is needed, but it’s also a story with a strong young adolescent at an age where many kids struggle. Riley has the courage to be herself, even when it would be much easier to pretend. Riley is a good model for young tween readers. The response of Riley’s family, while not always perfect, is a great example, as well. Hand this fun book to the kid who’s struggling to find themself, and to the kid who might be waiting to be their friend.
The Real Riley Mayes By Rachel Elliott Harper Collins, 2022 ISBN: 9780062995742
Publisher Age Rating: 8-12
NFNT Age Recommendation: Middle Grade (7-11) Creator Representation: Lesbian Character Representation: Lesbian
During the early days of the pandemic, Mac Barnett, a prolific author of children’s books from picture books to chapter books, joined up with relative newcomer Shawn Harris, an award-winning illustrator, to create a comic book story that they presented live to kids each weekend, ending in 12 episodes.
The First Cat in Space Ate Pizza is that story, edited and refined into a cohesive and hilarious narrative alongside Harris’ chunky and colorful art. The story begins with a series of alarming events culminating in the realization that the moon is being destroyed! Scientists send their secret weapon, First Cat, to the moon to combat the space rats who are eating it. Along the way, First Cat picks up a stowaway robot, LOZ 4000, and once they arrive they join up with the queen of the moon. Together, the three friends will face many perils, meet strange creatures, and answer difficult questions like, “Will the first cat in space ever get to eat pizza?” and “Will LOZ ever find a purpose besides clipping toenails?”
Barnett and Harris blend their styles of humor seamlessly and each new imaginative addition is ably brought to life by Harris. His thick, colorful lines show movement and activity in each panel with details large and small adding humor, from a panicky scientist whizzing through the scenes on a desk chair to the “old ones” of the moon, caterpillar-like creatures, chilling on a moon beach underground. The first cat in space is an expressionless gray tabby, its face marked by an X forming eyes and mouth, which matches its monosyllabic dialogue, consisting solely of “meow”. LOZ is a perky box of a robot, with endlessly extendable arms and a usually cheerful expression on its screen. The queen of the moon is a small, dramatic woman with flowing white and blue hair, robes, and an imperious manner, shown in her many pronouncements and constant hurrying of the oddball crew.
Although the publisher, with their usual fine abandon, recommends this to fans of Dav Pilkey, Jeff Kinney, and Raina Telgemeier, three completely disparate authors, they do hit the mark in their recommendation of Dav Pilkey. Barnett’s sense of humor, though more eccentric than Pilkey’s with less potty-humor, has the same episodic nature and Dog Man fans will eagerly devour this new epic adventure. It’s also a great match for fans of such madcap adventures as InvestiGators, Agent Moose, and Bad Guys. There are enough mild lessons on friendship and listening to others to please adults with all the wacky adventures a dedicated graphic novel fan could desire. This book is sure to fly off library shelves.
The First Cat in Space Ate Pizza By Mac Barnett Art by Shawn Harris Harper Collins, 2022 ISBN: 9780063084087
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During the early days of the pandemic, Mac Barnett, a prolific author of children’s books from picture books to chapter books, joined up with relative newcomer Shawn Harris, an award-winning illustrator, to create a comic book story that they presented live to kids each weekend, ending in 12 episodes.
