Writing in a personable tone, McCollough implores readers to apply logic and critical thinking skills to everything they are told, from the government, news outlets, in school curriculums, and especially any time we might feel pressed to surrender money or our personal information. "Be skeptical,"he writes, noting that “there is money to be made by feeding into people’s paranoia.” Through brisk, organized chapters, McCollough explores the history of scientific reasoning (science, he argues, is “the greatest good that humans have ever come up with”) and lays out how to incorporate its rigor and logic into everyday thinking. McCollough convincingly demonstrates the importance of parents learning this for themselves and also teaching it to their children.
Touching on conspiracy theories, faith and religion, and cause and effect, Debunk offers a quick, inviting introduction to the "real-world consequences" of misinformation and outdated science, providing multiple avenues—“Observe, Predict, Test”— to keep from being taken in. The book is not comprehensive, but readers new to the question of what we can do to shore our minds’ defenses up in this ever-evolving information age will find much here that is instructive and illuminating.
Takeaway: Clarifying introduction to critical thinking in the extremely online era.
Comparable Titles: Cindy L. Otis's True or False, John Grant's Debunk It!.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A-
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A-
Marketing copy: A-
With her new crew by her side, Ada finds uplifting community in her church youth group … and she leads her friends in taking on a highly personal mystery involving Johann’s mother that will test Ada’s—and readers’—detective skills and lead to unexpected developments. Ada is an engaging, relatable protagonist who works at sleuthing, training herself in observation and striving to work out puzzles of faith and souls. Pietzsch pays touching attention to the other mysteries of growing up, like bullies, loneliness, and the persistent fear, shared by Ada,“They were probably laughing and making weird faces behind my back.”
A story of family, friendship, and finding strength in yourself through faith, Finders of The Armor will appeal to young Christian readers who relish working out clues, making sense of the complexities of relationships, and all the work that goes into putting on a play. Pietzsch writes with welcome warmth about issues of self esteem, of uncovering principles of faith, and applying them in a tangible way.
Takeaway: Heartfelt, relatable, faith-based middle grade mystery series starter.
Comparable Titles: Colleen Coble’s Rock Harbor Search & Rescue series, Amanda Cleary Eastep’s Tree Street kids series.
Production grades
Cover: B
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: B
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A-
The family material constituting the novel’s first third is a marvel of domestic SF, deftly blending last-century Americana with gee-whiz kid’s-adventure enthusiasm, creature-feature consequences, surprises both pleasing and dark, and dead-serious acknowledgement of the destructive powers of nature and the frailty of human life. John’s father is both brilliant and reckless, the classic archetype, and the disasters that his family faces—all written with brisk elan—pulse with humor and invention. That’s true even of tragic beats, as when someone John loves becomes a “walking, talking nucleo-chemical time bomb.” John’s maturation and separation from the clan finds the comic energy fading, somewhat, though Johnson still springs daft surprises (one favorite: a chimp’s academic career). As John loves and experiences fresh loss, the story’s darker undercurrents become ever more urgent.
Lovers of thoughtful, humane science fiction steeped in weird science will feast, though the novel’s daunting length and lack of narrative momentum may keep readers from discovering the pleasures and startling insights within. Chapters tend to be paced like short stories, introducing and exploring a new, strange scenario and then wringing it, with crisp efficiency, for all its resonance.
Takeaway: Thrillingly inventive novel of growing up the son of a mad scientist.
Comparable Titles: Nick Harkaway, Lauren Beukes.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A-
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A-
For all the bold ideas and epic length, Martorano spins a tense and surprising thriller story of warring factions. There’s the secular elites in the domed paradise Babylon, complete with its own constitution, an amphitheater named after Homer, and founding “Giant”s whose consciousness, through a complex ascension ritual, can now live forever. They’re attacked, on occasion, by the hardscrabble, tent-dwelling New Amish, led by a preacher named Jeb Thompson, whose past is connected to Babylon—and possibly the world’s—greatest failing. That is the creation of super AI MARTIN, the “greatest military mind in history,” who 28 years before the novel’s present killed millions.
The stakes are both intimate and civilizational as Jeb seems determined to boot MARTIN back up. The climactic confrontations and battles, involving robot “Centaur” tanks, are exciting, though the plotting is perhaps inevitably dense and overstuffed with incident and backstory. But what shines here is Martorano’s concerns for the hearts and souls of his people, from a displaced laborer who learns to live off the land to the presciently named Eve, the woman accused of murder, who strives to live a life of faith. That empathy extends to even the immortal and artificial minds, as Martorano strives throughout to find the human (and perhaps the God) in the machine.
Takeaway: Humanity shines through this epic SF thriller of near-future division and automation.
Comparable Titles: Nick Harkaway, Mark Germine.
Production grades
Cover: B
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A-
Marketing copy: B
Kind's short lines and rapid rhymes are a joy, as Sue patiently tackles problems faced by her amusing friends: Hippo Pou, who has ripped her tutu right before a big performance; Lou’s nephew Boo, who needs a bamboo crutch; and on and on. Celebrating innovative thinking, crafty ideas, and patience within friendship, Kind showcases the truth that helping others sometimes leads to helping yourself as Sue makes smart use of the bamboo, making a canoe so that Moo can cross a river, or using it to make stew for her sick friend named—wouldn’t you know it!—Chu.
Shirin Hashemi’s crisp, appealing character design deepens the fun, with each animal boasting memorable details (Sue’s scarf, sneezy dog Chu’s monogrammed hanky, Pou’s pink tutu) and big, relatable emotions that drive home the beats of the story. Taking in the drawings proves as much fun as speaking lines like “Pou has torn her tutu, Sue. / Right before her big debut!” Also included: fun guided questions to check for comprehension and to further engage young readers with Sue's tale.
Takeaway: Problem-solving and tongue-twisting rhymes power this delightful debut.
Comparable Titles: Eve Bunting's Have You Seen My New Blue Socks?, Sarah Seung-McFarland's Where The Lost Things Go.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: B+
Readers will squirm at the sickly-inventive means by which the Rune Killer dispatches victims, with scenes soaked in viscera and a palpable brutality. Black is an effective, if familiar, lead as the dour-yet-determined noir detective, whose visits with his institutionalized brother, Samuel, lend a tender vulnerability to his otherwise monochromatic portrait. Black’s partner, O’Malley, alongside their fellow detectives Jones and Ramirez, however, rarely escape the gravity of Black’s ethos, operating more as thematic enactments of duty and struggle than fully relatable characters. The plot’s meditations on the restless battle of good vs evil paints an appropriately taxing picture of Black, though some readers may lose interest in the drawn-out proceedings by the novel’s end.
Hamilton flourishes when envisioning gruesome contraptions and building a nihilistic, brooding framework. The Rune Killer’s reverence for the ancient Ordo Iustitiae and supernatural flourishes adds welcome texture to familiar roads, though the book’s procedural aspects are hindered by overly convenient staging, sacrificing suspense at times while lessening reader commitment to Black and his cohort of beleaguered but unwavering cops. Still, there’s plenty of potential brimming in this moody, violent urban thriller, where detectives are inherently good and the enemy is a viciously satisfying rendering of “evil in its purest incarnation.”
Takeaway: Gruesome noir detective story that flirts with supernatural elements.
Comparable Titles: C.L. Thomas’s The Hollow, John Connolly’s The Black Angel.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: B+
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: B-
Marketing copy: A
To solve this conundrum, Goodbrand relies on science, based on observation and evidence. He gives a brief but thorough overview of the formation of the universe and the development of biological life, rooting humans firmly in the cycle: “We are part of nature which is embedded in us as we are embedded in nature.” He then ties humans to what he calls the “arc of the cosmos”: “the elimination of matter” through the burning of energy—in other words, the unraveling of all life. This seeming paradox, that the point of life is to destroy life, in Goodbrand’s view, lies at the heart of human misery and conflict.
Goodbrand dedicates many pages to dismantling humanity’s view of itself as the pinnacle and point of life, saying our “self-centered exceptionalism” leads us to “cruelty and destructiveness.” Yet those traits, he notes, seem inevitable, as we follow our own ruthless survival instincts and therefore fulfill the cosmos’ larger aim of taking everything apart. Accordingly, Goodbrand doesn’t come up with a solution to life’s woes so much as propose a temporary fix: relative safety for the greatest number of people achieved through technology and adherence to scientific precepts, combined with a realistic acceptance of our fleeting place in a larger scheme that will end in universal extinction. It’s not the most optimistic place to end up, but for those readers with a hardy existentialist bent, it should prove enlightening.
Takeaway: Insightful, unsparing look at humanity in a universe hostile to life.
Comparable Titles: Marcelo Gleiser’s The Dawn of a Mindful Universe, Yuval Noah Harari’s Sapiens.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A-
Marketing copy: A-
A Clockwork Flower offers an appealing riff on the classic, tried-and-true portal fantasy quest narrative, complete with a found family of oddball adventurers whose bonds, for readers, may prove more enchanting than the adventure itself. Aries’ pleasure in befriending “magnificent” (“albeit, terrifying”) creatures shines through, as does Stevens’s—the novel pulses with a deep love of fantasy, its fey and tricksters, and of chapter-ending cliffhangers that keep the momentum barrelling along. While the fleet pacing is admirable in a genre known for its protracted epics, things here at times feel rushed, both in plotting and prose, and a lack of polish, from repetitive phrasing (”My heart felt like a drum. It pitter-pattered and began to flutter like a butterfly.”) to the presentation of dialogue, will prove a hurdle for readers.
That’s too bad, as the book is alive with love, invention, and a spirit of exuberant adventure. Stevens’s time spent traveling shows in his fondness for the varied lands the heroes explore (and the book’s accompanying map), like the purple grasslands of Forever Fields, or the gleaming techno-magical city of Telmara. There’s promise, here.
Takeaway: This portal fantasy's colorful cast and imaginative world deserves more polish.
Comparable Titles: John Van Stry’s Portals of Infinity, Rhaegar’s Azarinth Healer Series.
Production grades
Cover: B-
Design and typography: A-
Illustrations: B-
Editing: C
Marketing copy: B
As in the first volume, Himeda’s love for music shines throughout, and the reverence her characters feel for it is matched by the author’s interest in the art and craft of making it, from tone to tuning to the “shades of expression” coaxable from harp strings and vocal cords. Even as he can’t actually play, Kaelin eats, drinks, and dreams music as he moves from one Master to the next. The stakes are high, involving the future of the Order and more, but also intimate, charting in lively, engaging detail Kaelin’s coming of age as a person, creative artist, and wielder of magic.
The prevailing sense of humanity, of characters who respect even their adversaries, edges the series toward cozy territory, but vivid prose and surprising magic—“low, undulating minor arpeggios” weave around one character, “pulling him gently up and out of his home”—will please lovers of any thoughtful fantasy, The momentum slows for music lessons, but Kaelin is easy to cheer for, a young man of bone-deep goodness, eager to enter harmonious states of learning and creation. This sequel offers enthralling world-building, lush accounts of music and magic-making, and an ending that is truly suspenseful—an especially good trick given that the climax involves men sitting around debating.
Takeaway: Music is magic in this heartening fantasy series of a bard’s road to mastery.
Comparable Titles: Emma Bull’s War for the Oaks, Mary Gentle’s The Black Opera.
Production grades
Cover: A-
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A-
Marketing copy: A-
Despite a life lived under the threat of destruction if he disobeys the Vampyres, Caesar’s deep, abiding love for Rome shines throughout Grey’s narrative, serving as a catalyst for his efforts to rid the city of Vampyre rule. Here, his passionate coupling with Cleopatra is formed on their joint desire to expunge Vampyres (referred to as Magicians in Egypt) from their countries, and, as the pair craft secret plans together while fighting the very real dangers surrounding them, Caesar becomes intimately familiar with his eerie enemy—an enemy that Grey casts as tricky, powerful, and, surprisingly, mortal.
Though some scenes stretch credulity—Caesar and Cleopatra’s Nile cruise turns into a Vampyre-catching quest, and after a vicious beating by an irate Vampyre during his North African campaign, Caesar sends out a body double in battle—Grey leaves readers with thoughtful reflections on whether otherworldly persuasions may have affected Caesar’s well-known tactical movements and political shifting. Just as Grey’s Caesar is on the cusp of eliminating his supernatural adversaries, Grey paints him into a desperate corner, turning his desire to break Rome free from Vampyres as the reason for his own downfall. The epilogue dangles other potential historical run-ins with Vampyres, offering readers the possibility of more to come from Grey in the future.
Takeaway: Reimagining of Julius Caesar’s life, dictated by Vampyre influence.
Comparable Titles: Seth Grahame-Smith’s Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter, Brian M. Stableford’s The Empire of Fear.
Production grades
Cover: A-
Design and typography: A-
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: B+
Marketing copy: A
While the material is often searching, many of the poems and pieces deal with the practicalities of logging. Kelly deftly juxtaposes the often violent lives of the people who make a living cutting down forests with the violence done to the trees, likening the work to nothing short of genocide. Kelly presents an empathetic insider’s account of hardworking, hard-drinking, generally short lives. Characters who linger include Jim’s grandfather who gets his son’s small farm up and running within a year of moving there; Richard Long, a six-foot-seven giant with “dinner-plate-size[d] hands”; and of course the towering conifers—anyone encountering one in the Cascades, he writes, would “approach this presence with awe.”
Lyric and moving, both prose and poems are shot through with an unnamable pain, a longing for something intangible. Kelly compares the evil in this world to a minotaur trapped in a maze, often breaking out and causing untold destruction. Kelly’s honest and unsparing gaze doesn’t absolve his own countrymen too, but he sees hope in the philosophy of universal love. A poignant read.
Takeaway: Profound, genre-crossing memoir of farm life, logging, and war and its costs.
Comparable Titles: Richard Powers, Howard White.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A-
From a young age, Darland finds himself in a toxic environment, turning to alcohol as a means of escaping the dysfunction and abuse in his home. That search for fulfillment leads him down a path of destruction, chasing freedom and adrenaline through various vices. Yet Darland’s resilience shines through as he embarks on a journey of self-recovery, navigating through odd jobs, serving in the Iowa Army National Guard, and eventually building a thriving business, all testaments to his grit and perseverance. In lyrical prose, he describes how “the ashes of my chaos… formed a beautiful forest for me to venture into and draw from different trees of wisdom, knowledge, and faith.”
At its core, this memoir serves as a stark reminder of how childhood scars can persist into adulthood, perpetuating a harmful cycle if not confronted and healed. Darland’s reflections are interspersed with life lessons drawn from deep introspection, teaching readers the importance of letting go of their past to prevent trauma from defining their future. Written in a conversational style that feels much like advice from a trusted mentor, Power in Chaos offers readers an inspiring road map to overcoming adversity, ensconced in the powerful message that personal strength lies in embracing and harnessing the chaos within.
Takeaway: Bold message of harnessing inner chaos to overcome trauma.
Comparable Titles: Anya Liftig’s Holler Rat, Casey Gerald’s There Will Be No Miracles Here.
Production grades
Cover: A-
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A-
Marketing copy: A-
That sparks Deniz’s fantasy journey, played out in an enchanting valley where it’s spring-like year-round, nature puts on strange light shows, and a friendly rabbit is more than it seems. As Deniz begins to realize his new home is far from typical, the landlords—the Hatchers—take him under their wing, revealing he is a Sventur and has inherited magical abilities. Under their tutelage, he learns that forces larger than himself are at work, feeding on the world’s “suffering and fears,” and have their sights set on convincing children to cross “the line between good and evil.” As Deniz prepares for this final battle, Nuri probes how souls can be damaged by life’s experiences—and whether cruel people can ever change.
Ending with a hint at more to come in this complex world, Dragon’s Heart embraces deep emotional themes within a familiar framework. Genre fans will recognize many of this debut’s fantasy elements, though Nuri caches these within intriguing magical lore. Issues with pacing and stilted dialogue will require patience from readers, but for those dedicated to fantasy that inspires, Dragon’s Heart makes a stirring promise that “we’ll cry many more times in our lives, but we mustn’t break.”
Takeaway: Troubled boy discovers magic powers in time to save the world.
Comparable Titles: Jenny Nimmo’s Midnight for Charlie Bone, B.B. Alston’s Amari and the Night Brothers.
Production grades
Cover: B
Design and typography: B
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: B
Marketing copy: B+
From there, it’s a medley of mayhem for the jolly old elf, as Santa endures attempted murder, dangerous street fights, and the possibility that Christmas could be canceled this year. Luckily, Plecas depicts Santa as calmly steadfast through each predicament and gifts him with a cadre of entertaining characters to help turn his night around: there’s young Joy, whose only Christmas wish is that her deployed father could return home for the day; Lulu and her cane-bearing, don’t-mess-with-me Meema, who comes to Santa’s rescue in more ways than one; and the dashing Denzel, a former Army Ranger now serving as an attorney. Even as Santa faces overwhelming craziness, his entourage proves up to the challenge, helping him find his way back to his sleigh, circling over the last house he dropped into, per their Christmas rescue plan in the event something goes awry.
Readers will find all the important holiday messages here, from the need to “see the world through the eyes of a child” to the belief in something greater than yourself. Plecas ends with a sweet reminder that it’s never really about the presents under the tree—it’s about the love in our hearts.
Takeaway: Santa endures sleigh loads of danger to save Christmas.
Comparable Titles: Eoin Colfer’s Juniper’s Christmas, Ben Miller’s Diary of a Christmas Elf.
Production grades
Cover: A-
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: B+
Marketing copy: A
Readers will find themselves hypnotized by the anachronistic futurism of Domowitz’s setting, mixing Victorian and Steampunk aesthetics with sci-fi trappings like body-mods, AI, and virtual realities, to create a unique backdrop that teems with vibrant characters and an elegantly complex, all-too-believable political landscape. The plot occasionally gets lost in the weeds of its conspiracy, and some readers will struggle with the esoterica threaded throughout, yet Killing Kraken marches on with populist aplomb, grounding itself via the often humorous, always colorful observations of Parker’s AI assistant who serves as narrator.
With a background in financial technologies, Domowitz puts the “real” in magical realism: the story’s alchemical mysticism exists firmly within the bedrock of its political machinations and organic human interplay, where, to quote the author, “detectives shall well and truly detect.” The prose is both evocative and economic, building fast yet effectively, and results in beautifully lived-in characters and a thrilling roller-coaster pace that will keep readers turning the pages until the very end. Mystery may beat at the heart of Killing Kraken, but it’s no guesswork to see that Domowitz has crafted a work of inspiring and engaging science-fiction that readers will greatly enjoy.
Takeaway: Alchemy and politics prove a murderous mixture in this rousing adventure.
Comparable Titles: Michael Scott’s The Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel series, Liam Fialkov’s The Newton Code.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A-
Marketing copy: A
Scott's narrative is a skillful blend of hard science fiction and human drama. The technical details of space travel are meticulously researched, providing a realistic backdrop for the story's events, and Scott’s background in high-tech is evident in his precise descriptions of spacecraft operations and the challenges of interplanetary living. Characters are vividly realistic, each with their own motivations and flaws, none more so than Addy, whose obsession with being the first to land on Mars drives much of the plot—and his own downfall at times. His relationship with crewmates, particularly Bria and fellow astronaut Sally, add surprising depth to the story while highlighting the psychological strains of long-duration space missions.
Tripping Toward Mars shines when illuminating the ethical dilemmas that crop up during space exploration. Addy’s willingness to conduct an unauthorized engine burn to beat the Chinese to Mars raises questions about the cost of ambition and the boundaries of acceptable risk, and Scott presents such complex issues in a way that encourages readers to ponder humanity’s future in space. This is not just a story about reaching Mars; it is a reflection on human nature, the drive for discovery, and the sacrifices made in the name of progress.
Takeaway: Entertaining space mission augmented by human drama.
Comparable Titles: Kate Rauner’s Glory on Mars, Richard Rimington’s Defiant Space.
Production grades
Cover: A-
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A-