Helle Helle's they is a deceptively slight, minimalist novel that packs a huge emotional punch in its superb translation from Danish by acclaimed translator Martin Aitken. Each austere sentence brings a wealth of information about the mother-daughter relationship at the center of the narrative.

A mother and her 16-year-old daughter have moved frequently from place to place throughout their lives on the island of Lolland in Denmark. The story finds both of them at inflection points. The girl is starting high school and navigating the social landscape that goes along with it, while the mother must confront the news that she is terminally ill and undergoes treatment. Each seemingly insignificant moment is filled with the beauty of the everyday. While the daughter makes friends at school and engages in typical teenage things, her mother is hospitalized.

Helle, a recipient of the Danish Critics Prize for Literature, is an exquisite stylist who details both the sensory surfaces of life (tomato soup, weather, public transportation) and the intimacy inherent in any interaction. The daughter's world is populated by specific friends with names like Tove Dunk, Hafni, Bob, and Steffen, but she and her mother themselves go unnamed--their relationship is too primal and entwined for the distinction that names imply.

Ultimately, they beautifully investigates how people face the end of their shared world and shared story not with drama but with quiet, dogged determination. Helle Helle challenges the reader to find the meaning, the love, and the sacrifice buried deep within the most ordinary and prolonged silences. --Elizabeth DeNoma, executive editor, DeNoma Literary Services, Seattle, Wash.

The stories of Camille Bordas's One Sun Only are powered by everyday absurdity and accentuated by sharp observational humor. They explore creativity and family via comedically myopic characters.

In the darkly funny "Most Die Young," Julie circles the question of whether anxiety can kill while explicitly avoiding the question with regard to her own anxiety. Instead, she works on a human-interest essay about the Pawong, a Malaysian tribe in which fear is highly valued. In "The Lottery in Almería," Andrés is visited by his sister in the house they inherited from their father in the titular city, a small-town vacation destination where "it was not every day that two different things happened." He moves through his day observing others' irrationality while oblivious to his own illogical beliefs about what might impact the likelihood of winning the lottery.

In "The State of Nature," an optometrist sees a patient who wants LASIK so he can be better prepared for societal collapse and a return to a more natural state, which he's excitedly anticipating. Here, Bordas's deadpan style reaches its peak. When the optometrist finds out her patient got the surgery, she tells him with apparent sincerity, "I'm happy for you.... Now you can just relax and wait for the world to collapse."

Bordas's collection thoroughly understands the strange subtleties of human psychology, affectionately poking fun and letting readers in on the joke. It's a nuanced and compulsively readable work from a celebrated contributor to the New Yorker and the Paris Review, full of humor and insight. --Carol Caley, writer

Jasmin 'Iolani Hakes (Hula) returns to her native Hawai'i and its multifaceted history in her captivating second novel, The Pōhaku. Tracing the titular ancient volcanic stone and the fortunes of the women charged with protecting it, Hakes draws a sharp, compelling portrait of Hawai'i and its people on the brink of cataclysmic change.

Hakes's unnamed narrator tells her story from beside a hospital bed where her estranged granddaughter lies in a coma. Terrified of losing her, the narrator rushes to share the account of their family's kuleana (sacred obligation) to the pōhaku, which she believes is tied to the fortunes of their beloved islands. Traveling back and forth in time from the age of European exploration to the California gold rush to the 1990s, Hakes's narrative explores the exploitation of Native people and resources, and the seductiveness of power and greed. But she also highlights the women who go to great lengths to protect their families and the pōhaku in the face of poverty, abuse, and rapidly shifting political alliances. Hakes casts a new, unflattering light on the story of Hawai'i's path to statehood, emphasizing the machinations of white men determined to possess the land and extract its treasures. The pōhaku's survival, despite such plotting and hardships, prompts readers to consider important questions about ownership, connection to the land, and the weight of communal responsibility.

Lushly described and powerfully told, The Pōhaku provides a critical new perspective on Hawai'i's history and an urgent call to care for the planet and one another. --Katie Noah Gibson, blogger at Cakes, Tea and Dreams

Who wouldn't take a job that involves "saving the world"? Adi, the antihero of Jonathan Miles's powerful fourth novel, Eradication, is drawn to the job listing not just for the noble mission but also for the chance to be alone for five weeks on a Pacific island. A teacher reeling from his 11-year-old son Jairo's death and his wife leaving, Adi relishes getting away from it all. But he hasn't reckoned with the emotional challenge of eradicating an invasive species--and facing up to humanity's role in environmental crises.

Santa Flora once teemed with endemic birds and reptiles, but many species have gone extinct because of the ballooning population of goats. Armed with a sniper's rifle, Adi's task is to kill all of the island's estimated 2,000 to 4,000 goats. From the start, it's clear Adi's not cut out for this. The story nears the midpoint when he finally kills his first goat. He butchers it, but cries while eating the meat. In the meantime, he's made the mistake of becoming emotionally attached to the female goats hanging around his hut. He's identified individuals and named them; how can he kill them?

Miles (Anatomy of a Miracle) spins a taut parable where guilt and blame, responsibility and revenge, trade off. His island discoveries enhance a nuanced environmentalist message: a trash-covered beach; an injured bird thought to be extinct; and two drunken fishermen who illegally kill sharks and sell the fins to China. Human tragedies, like Jairo's accidental death, may be random. Those that befall the natural world, though--whether intentional or not--can only be laid at humanity's door. --Rebecca Foster, freelance reviewer, proofreader, and blogger at Bookish Beck

In The Case of the Murdered Muckraker, the sequel to The Case of the Missing Maid, Rob Osler vividly captures the challenges facing a young queer woman in 1898 Chicago who's trying to prove her skills as a detective while keeping her personal life private.

At 21, Harriet Morrow is the first female operative at the Prescott Detective Agency, a competitor of the Pinkerton agency. Harriet often is the smartest person in the room, despite her lack of formal education and people's assumptions about women. Agency head Theodore Prescott believes in Harriet and assigns her to investigate the murder of journalist Eugene Eldridge, who'd been trailing a corrupt politician. Harriet is eager to go undercover and is especially hoping to prove the innocence of Lucy Fara, a poor, single mother of four children. The police accused Lucy of Eugene's murder simply because she found his body at the University of Chicago Settlement tenement, where she lives. To go undercover, Harriet must set aside the men's trousers she usually wears in favor of conventional women's clothes. Harriet ferrets out information from Lucy's neighbors and follows a trail through Chicago's corruption, all the while keeping her sexuality secret despite growing feelings for another woman.

The Case of the Murdered Muckraker's strength lies in Osler's insightful characterizations of Harriet and the city in which she lives. The detective is determined that her 16-year-old brother will have more opportunities than she herself has had. And her maturity as an investigator parallels the changes in Chicago on the cusp of a new century, with its soaring population and talk of women being granted the vote. --Oline H. Cogdill, freelance reviewer

Heather McBreen (Wedding Dashers) expertly combines humor and hope to turn heartbreaking unresolved feelings into a second chance at true love. Roslyn and Liam's marriage was once envied by everyone they knew, but following the death of Roslyn's mother, it has been submerged in devastating grief and harrowing tension. Their relationship is coasting straight toward divorce when Roslyn's unsuspecting grandparents decide to redeclare their own love with a vow renewal during this year's family trip, a Hawaiian cruise. Their only request is that Liam officiate the ceremony. Hesitant to tell her family that her seemingly perfect marriage to an incredibly smart and sexy British doctor whom they all love as one of their own is over, Roslyn has an idea: pretend they are still together and delay her family's disappointment.

A tiny cabin and prescheduled family zip-lining, shuffleboard, and beach days begin to muddy the waters between the couple's fake-dating skills and very real chemistry. As fun flirtation and heated sexual tension rise to the surface, Roslyn and Liam must decide if they should leave the past in the past or take back the helm of their relationship.

Alternating timelines intertwine Roslyn and Liam's nuanced past with their present journey to love and acceptance. As Roslyn navigates how to follow her heart despite her fear of her grief being too much for Liam, Liam determines how to confront his issues and finally let Roslyn in. Over the course of the family trip, Roslyn and Liam's past and present reveal the darkest and the brightest parts of love. --Clara Newton, freelance reviewer

Former Manhattan public defender Yosha Gunasekera convincingly takes to the page with The Midnight Taxi, her authorial debut. At 28, Siriwathi Perera is a New York City cab driver, more by circumstance than choice. Her immigrant father couldn't afford to buy a coveted taxi medallion, so he leased one instead. His heart disease, however, kept him from the wheel, meaning Siri and her older brother had to cover his shifts. Alas, "Thathi never got better, my brother died, and we were trapped in a ten-year lease. It all fell on me," Siri admits. Family debts, disappointments, expectations loom large.

"My true crime podcasts are a lifeline," Siri confesses about the daily driving tedium. "I spend most of my time thinking about murder." Thinking becomes shocking reality late one night when the fare she picked up has somehow been stabbed dead in the backseat by the time they arrive at Kennedy Airport. Suddenly Siri is the prime suspect for murder. Serendipitously, she has the business card for criminal defense lawyer Amaya Fernando, whom she'd ferried earlier that night.

Siri and Amaya just need to line up the clues in time to prove Siri's innocence. Gunasekera's plotting proves notably clever, and she writes with straightforward ease, relaying the step-by-step process of Siri and Amaya's fast-moving investigation as they crisscross the boroughs. The Sri Lankan American background she shares with her protagonists adds cultural and sociopolitical enhancements to her narrative, broadening the scope beyond the usual whodunit. Oh, and to ensure audiences stay properly hooked on these tenacious sleuths, The Midnight Taxi ends with the first three chapters of the next volume. --Terry Hong

The great Japanese filmmaker Akira Kurosawa's Something Like an Autobiography, published in 1982, is one of the best cinema memoirs ever written. He lived until 1998, however, and directed several films after the book's release. One assumes that even a publicly reticent figure like Kurosawa had more to say. That assumption is validated by Long Take, a collection of essays and conversations originally published in Japan in 1999, most dating from after the previous volume. Translated from the Japanese by Anne McKnight, this excellent work, along with Waiting on the Weather, a 2006 book by Kurosawa's former assistant Teruyo Nogami, provides an indispensable companion to the director's autobiography and a singular look at his perspectives on film.

The opening essay by Kurosawa describes his experience making Seven Samurai (1954) and explains that, for the final battle sequence, "[Mud] really got in everywhere. All my toenails ended up turning black and falling off." In an essay on Maadadayo (1993), his final film, he states that he'd rather be known as an artisan than an artist, adding, "Above all, people should be entertained." In conversations with two interlocutors, he discusses, among other topics, the process of filming the eight tales that constitute Dreams (1990). Long Take concludes with several entries by his daughter, Kazuko, including her reminiscences of Kurosawa's final three years and a list of 100 films that constituted his "ideal cinema viewing experience," among them Bicycle Thieves, Barry Lyndon, and, delightfully, the original Godzilla. Cinephiles need this book. --Michael Magras, freelance book reviewer

In this stunning, passionate YA novel, a teen and her community grapple with the impossible, complicated scenario of being forced to choose between jobs and health.

Mexican American teen Paloma's beloved Southern California town is inundated with warehouses for Selva, a mega e-commerce company. Selva's arrival brought jobs along with all the associated pollution and physical hardships on workers. Two years ago, Paloma and ex-boyfriend Julio learned about the group scholarship, Projects for Purpose, and planned to apply together: $100,000 each and a publication in the Young Scholars Journal. There, Paloma could raise national awareness about Selva's detrimental impact on the community. However, Julio's father died of lung cancer, and he stopped speaking to Paloma. Now, six months until graduation, Paloma's father insists on walking the picket line despite his clearly declining health. Reluctantly--and independently of each other--Paloma and Julio realize their best chance at winning the scholarship is to work together.

Pura Belpré Award winner Carolina Ixta (Shut Up, This Is Serious) pulls no punches in this painful yet tentatively hopeful novel inspired by true events about the disproportionate placement of warehouses "in areas with higher concentrations of Black and Latino residents." Despite the agonizing subject matter, Ixta's writing is dazzlingly lyrical, as when Paloma and her father go to fill a prescription alongside "so many people bending into their elbows," their coughs are "cacophonous, harmonizing, echoing through the pharmacy line." Few Blue Skies is well suited for fans of Jennifer Mathieu's Down Came the Rain and Ellen Hagan's Don't Call Me a Hurricane. Includes a map, author's note, and an impressive, extensive bibliography. --Emilie Coulter, freelance writer and editor

Theodore Seuss Geisel Honor-winning author, illustrator, and cartoonist Norm Feuti (Beak & Ally series) sheds a gentle but decidedly direct light on the social and financial complexities of a working-class kid entering middle school.

Nathan and best friend Ricky are white kids living in the Millbrook Estates trailer park with their mothers. They'll be attending the same, majority-white middle school but have no classes together and Ethan is nervous. The nerves, sadly, prove prescient. On his first day, the bottom of his old, "falling apart" backpack rips open in the hallway. Next, Ricky embarrasses him at lunch, telling their rich classmate that Ethan is "only into nerd stuff" (the card game Bio Battle). Finally, another student publicly derides Ethan, saying it "must be nice" to get free lunch "while the rest of us have to pay." A chance encounter at the end of the day with Aiden, a fellow Bio Battle player, raises Ethan's spirits. But as Ethan and Aiden bond, Ethan begins to think Aiden might be just like the other rich kids.

Feuti expertly represents Ethan's struggle with being a child living in economically depressed conditions. Ethan is often embarrassed by and frustrated with his family's financial situation as he tries to make new friends and find acceptance. Feuti's story moves quickly, helped along by a mixture of thickly bordered panels with sharp edges, full page illustrations, and entirely borderless panels that keep the eyes moving rapidly across the page. An excellent read for fans of Rex Ogle's Free Lunch or Kelly Yang's Front Desk. --Kharissa Kenner, school media specialist, Churchill School and Center

We All Love is a contemplative picture book that asks young readers to consider care as a shared responsibility across species, generations, and communities. Cree-Métis author/illustrator Julie Flett (Let's Go!; We All Play) frames this tender and expansive book with a dedication to all children ("It could not be more important for you to know to that you are loved") that grounds the book and immediately establishes its emotional center.

Flett integrates into her story gentle moments of direct address to animals ("Little friend, would you like a warm nest?"): an adult bear watches a cub dangling precariously from a tree, a duckling drifts too far out to sea until a fish nudges it back toward its waiting family, and a large turtle helps right a smaller one stranded on its back. These spreads emphasize attentiveness and action, and suggest that love often looks like noticing when someone needs help. A shift to human children follows, accompanied by the bilingual declaration "We love too! kisâkihiwânaw kîstanaw." Subsequent spreads focus on warmth, protection, and guidance: animals sheltering together, finding their way, and keeping one another safe. The closing pages widen the lens further, turning to flowers, stars, and the acknowledgment that the "stories inside us help us to grow." Flett's earth-toned palette, accented with soft violets, and her textured illustration style lend a quiet intimacy to nests, grasses, and furred heads. Closing notes list the animal names in both English and Cree, include a brief explanation of aspects of the Cree language, and share a final note with readers: "we are loved and... we all love." --Julie Danielson

In debut author J.D. Myall's breathtaking and brooding romantic YA fantasy, Heart's Gambit, two 18-year-olds fall in love as they attempt to destroy a centuries-long curse.

Emma Baldwin and Malcolm Davenport are members of two feuding Black families whose enslaved ancestors fell in love and were bound by the cruel sorcery of the magical plantation owner. Both bloodlines were granted supernatural "gifts" and forced into endless enmity. Additionally, once a generation, a Baldwin and a Davenport must fight in an enchanted duel, the Tethered Gambit, in which a death preserves the witch's immortality.

Emma, who has a very tenuous hold on her "gift" (granting wishes), feels unfulfilled performing in her family's nightly circus, where her brother "reaches into... minds," her mother has telekinetic skills, and her father can conjure the unbelievable. At the same time, Malcolm performs on his guitar, creating illusions in his family's evening revue. But Malcolm wants to do more--to change the world for Black people all over. When Emma and Malcolm are chosen to compete in the Tethered Gambit, the teens are drawn to each other. One must die for the bloodlines to survive but the newly-in-love teens are desperate to rewrite fate.

Myall creates a bewitching and original setting by fusing sci-fi time travel tropes with the witch's "gifts." The characters traverse heightened moments in U.S. Black history such as "Mississippi Delta, 1904," "Harlem, 1943," and "Philadelphia, 2024." Emma and Malcolm's alternating first-person perspectives show the teens grappling with tradition as they attempt to heal generational wounds. Heart's Gambit is a daring, romantic, and enthralling first installment in what will surely be an exciting series. --Natasha Harris, freelance reviewer