Originally published in 2002, Bronx Masquerade is a book that begins with a Black boy named Wesley Boone. After he reads a poem for his English class, his classmates decide to read their poems aloud, too. For eighteen students, this turns into weekly poetry readings that result in them reexamining their preconceived notions about each other.

Twenty years ago, I had the monumental pleasure of reading Nikki Grimes’s novel in verse Bronx Masquerade for the first time. As a Black-Asian teen who was starting out as a poet and feeling out of place, this book was extremely validating and comforting to me. After learning that Nikki Grimes released a 2019 sequel to the book called Between the Lines, I felt I owed it to my teen self to read and review it.

As with Bronx Masquerade, this book’s main setting is a high school English class belonging to the teacher Mr. Ward. Taking place one year after the events of Bronx Masquerade, this book revolves around nine eleventh-grade students from different racial and socioeconomic backgrounds. One is a mixed-race Black girl who is a foster kid, while another is a Chinese girl learning to find her voice despite not knowing her parents’ language. The students write poetry and participate in the weekly Open Mic poetry readings that lead up to a boys-versus-girls poetry slam at the end of the semester, becoming closer as they learn more about each other.

One notable difference between this book and Bronx Masquerade is its point-of-view character, Darrian Lopez. Unlike the first book’s protagonist, Wesley Boone, Darrian has no prior knowledge of poetry when he signs up for Mr. Ward’s class. In fact, he aims to be a newspaper reporter. However, Darrian is advised to sign up for Mr. Ward’s English class by the librarian, Mr. Winston, who states that poetry will “teach him the power of words.” This results in a character arc that is mostly satisfying as Darrian learns to write poetry. The only issue is that we never get to see the yearbook article Darrian writes about the semester-ending poetry slam. It would’ve been a better way to conclude the book.

Another remarkable feature of this book is that the characterization of the students is tighter. Because the book focuses on only nine students in the leadup to their boys-versus-girls poetry slam, the reader gets a sneak peek of each student’s personal life before the other characters do. In addition, we see certain students getting to know each other outside the classroom, such as Darrian and Marcel and Angela and Kyle. 

As a result, the poetry that makes up the crux of the character development shines a little brighter, too. Each character shares one to three poems that put their feelings, experiences, and passions on display. Some highlights include Jenesis Whyte’s “Foster Kid,” Marcel Dixon’s “Sweep,” “Private Pain” by Darrian Lopez, and “Anxiety” by Angela Marie Bailey. These poems tackle various topics, ranging from racist drug sweeps to grief to personal insecurities. One line I enjoyed was from Jenesis’ poem: “Mostly, I march through my days / footsteps falling on deaf ears / even when I stomp.”

One final facet of this book that I enjoyed as a fan of Bronx Masquerade was seeing certain characters from that book return in this one, especially Tyrone Bittings and Wesley Boone. Not only does it show what they’ve been up to since the first book, but it lets them apply and pass on what they learned in Mr. Ward’s class to a new set of students.

All in all, Between the Lines is a triumphant follow up to Bronx Masquerade. While you don’t need to have read Bronx Masquerade to enjoy this book, it definitely enhances the experience if you have. With stronger characterization, heartfelt prose, and passionate poetry, Between the Lines takes the power of poetry to greater heights. 

In Mariama J.Lockington’s novel-in-verse Forever Is Now, Sadie is a Black bisexual teenage girl with anxiety whose world shatters after two life-changing events.

Not only does her girlfriend deliver bad news, but the two of them also witness an incident of police brutality on a nearby lake. As a result, Sadie’s dormant agoraphobia comes out in full force. While taking the steps to heal and manage her mental health, Sadie gradually rebuilds a safe place inside herself while finding the strength to use her voice.

One of the best things about this book is how it handles so many sensitive topics, including police brutality, mental health, social justice, transracial adoption, biphobia, and internalized anti-Blackness. This is mainly done through the book’s impressive cast of characters: Sadie; her young brother, Charlie; Sadie’s parents; Sadie’s love interest, Jackson; Sadie’s ex, Aria; Sadie’s best friend, Evan; and Sadie’s therapist, Dr. Candace. Of these characters, the most notable in addition to Sadie herself are Evan (a nonbinary Latinx activist), Jackson (a Black boy adopted by white parents), and Dr. Candace (a Black therapist). While all of the secondary characters inform Sadie’s growth throughout the book, it is these three who bring out the best and sometimes the worst in Sadie. Evan, for example, is empathetic toward Sadie’s mental health needs but initially tries to encourage Sadie to only date girls. Likewise, Jackson is able to bond with Sadie due to his own mental health struggles, but his internalized anti-Blackness initially clashes with Sadie’s racial pride and her own activism. Eventually, Evan and Jackson grow alongside Sadie to stand by her side. Dr. Candace’s online and in-person sessions with Sadie meanwhile provide an insightful and realistic perspective on Sadie’s mental health journey.

Enhancing Sadie’s character arc and the voice of the secondary characters is the book’s frankly gorgeous poetic verse and prose. Some of the most notable verses provide a glimpse into Sadie’s mental health struggles, such as the lines, “When I panic, I stop being a girl / I become a thread unraveling / from some dark and blanketed expanse of time.” These lines discuss Sadie’s panic attacks, but not all the verses are about pain. Some are also resilient and triumphant, such as the lines, “I let the cool air hit my face, the sunshine / on my skin through the window like an old friend. / I remember that loneliness / is a part of my bloodline / as much as love, and fight, and song is.” Sadie’s poetic voice eventually reaches a beautiful climactic peak near the end of the book, and it is a great demonstration of her personal growth.

While the book is mostly written in verse, there is some prose on occasion. The most notable use of prose is when Sadie live-streams (“lives”) on Ruckus, an app that is like the activist version of Tik-Tok. At first, she uses the lives to discuss her mental health, but she soon shifts to using lives to reclaim her joy and activism. I especially liked how Sadie used her lives to discuss her personal influences, including writers like Emily Dickinson, Audre Lorde, and Octavia Butler.

The book has few flaws. I did want to know what happened in the aftermath of the its open-mic event, but I’m okay with not knowing. After all, Sadie didn’t set out to save the world—only to use her voice to inspire who she can.

Some readers might find Sadie’s mental health journey too messy, but that’s the point. Healing isn’t linear, and Sadie isn’t perfect, but she is a wonderful and beautiful survivor in all her complexity. Forever Is Now is a strong, delicate lyrical triumph that shows you can reclaim your peace and help others do the same.

“In order to rise from its own ashes, a phoenix must first burn.”

This quote from Octavia E. Butler’s Parable of the Talents is what inspires the title for this young adult sci-fi fantasy short fiction anthology edited by Patrice Caldwell. In the stories of A Phoenix First Must Burn, Black authors such as L. L. McKinney and Karen Strong weave fantastical tales of Black girls and gender nonconforming folks.

One of the first things that I came to appreciate about this anthology is how varied the stories are in terms of genre and setting. One story, “Gilded” by Elizabeth Acevedo, is set in the Americas in 1522 and features an enslaved Black woman who has the ability to bend metal. According to the editor’s note at the end of the book, this story is Acevedo’s interpretation of the first major slave revolt. 

Another story, Karen Strong’s “The Witch’s Skin,” is inspired by the Gullah/Geechee myth of the Boo Hag, an evil haint that steals a victim’s life breath. The editor’s note states that the setting is influenced by the Georgia Sea Islands, specifically Sapelo Island, where nearly all are descendants of enslaved West Africans.

The stories included in this anthology also showcase a variety of subgenres and subject matter. One of my favorite stories was Danny Lore’s “Tender-Headed,” an urban fantasy story about hair-braiding and memories. I was pleasantly surprised to learn via the editor’s note that it was a spin on the Greek myth of Athena and Arachne. Another story, “Letting the Right One In” by Patrice Caldwell, features a teenage Black queer girl who loves vampires in more ways than one.

Some of these stories might be a pleasant surprise even for readers who don’t usually enjoy the genre they are written in. One example of this is Rebecca Roanhorse’s “Wherein Abigail Fields Recalls Her First Death and, Subsequently, Her Best Life.” This turned out to be a Western story featuring a Black cowgirl who returns from death to enact vengeance in an unexpected way. As stated in the editor’s note, the story was inspired by the legend of Stagecoach Mary and the real-life all-Black settlement of Blackdom Township in Roswell, New Mexico.

As with all anthologies, I didn’t like every story, and chances are other readers won’t either. Even with some of the stories I liked, I wished there had been more of the stories to read. Some felt like they could have been longer, a novella or even a full-length novel. Nonetheless, all of them are still worth reading.

This anthology is filled with fiery passion and imagination. A Phoenix First Must Burn is the perfect book to introduce a teen reader to sci-fi fantasy, because most of the authors have other work to read afterward. It is also a great book for adults to appreciate Octavia Butler’s enduring legacy regardless of how much sci-fi fantasy they like.

Following the gruesome defeat of Wonderland’s Bloody Lady, Alice Kingston is trying to recover and move forward.

However, when stronger Nightmare monsters appear in the real world and literally hit close to home, Alice is forced to pick up her daggers once more and return to Wonderland. This time, she must defeat the evil that has been plaguing Wonderland once and for all—or risk having both her worlds destroyed.

I have been a fan of L. L. McKinney’s Nightmareverse series since I reviewed A Blade So Black in 2018. The follow up, A Dream So Dark, was even better, and my anticipation for the third book was very high. Now, A Crown So Cursed has finally arrived, and I am happy to say that it has mostly lived up to my expectations.

One of the most notable aspects of this book is that most of the cast is in a state of recovery. Alice Kingston is not the only character who has been physically and mentally drained by the events of book two—all the characters have been impacted by Wonderland directly or indirectly. Alice’s mother, Tina, for instance, still has their house under repair after the events of book 2 and is coming to terms with things Alice told her. Addison Hatta must reconcile his past actions as the Black Knight with the person he wants to be now.

Besides Alice, her grandmother Nana Kingston is the most impressive of all the characters. The previous book hinted that Nana K is much more than she appears to be, especially when she gave Alice the heart pendant. Now, Nana K begins to play an even larger role in Alice’s life that affects Alice deeply, and I enjoyed seeing Alice come into her own through her relationship with Nana.

With most of the cast recovering from earlier conflicts, the antagonist of this book stands out in striking contrast. They are not only the “final boss” of the entire saga, but their true identity represents what happens when you can’t recover from trauma and violence. Not only do they want to destroy Wonderland and the real world alike, but they also want to destroy the people they are supposed to love.

Moreover, the antagonist gives Alice a true test as a heroine, one that Alice passes beautifully. In the previous book, Alice had discovered her Muchness, the part of herself that believes in herself most. Now, she must tap into her highest potential and harness a power she literally never knew she had. This climax reminded me strongly of the anime Sailor Moon.

Not only are the characters compelling on their own, but they also bring the worldbuilding to its peak. The dire results of Addison Hatta’s time as the Black Knight are still felt in Wonderland through certain inhabitants. The area known as The Inbetween reflects the past and future of Wonderland and plays a bigger role in this book than in the previous one. Yet the most engrossing lore is in the hidden truths behind Wonderland’s royal family and how they have affected Wonderland.

My only issue with this book is the pacing. It moves pretty fast, to the point where it seems a little rushed toward the end of the book. This isn’t entirely a bad thing, because there is a lot of action and entertaining dialogue that keeps the reader turning the pages, but there were moments when I wished the characters had been given more time to breathe, especially since some of them spend some time apart from others.

All in all, A Crown So Cursed is a thrilling conclusion to the Nightmareverse trilogy. Fantastic character development and worldbuilding bring this story to a satisfying end. I hope this won’t be the last we meet Alice Kingston and company, because I would personally love to see side stories or a spinoff from this series in the future.

Set weeks after the events of Jason Reynolds’s book Miles Morales: Spider-Man, Miles Morales: Suspended features Miles Morales in a heap of trouble. Not only has he landed in-school suspension, but his Spidey-Sense keeps noticing termites acting strangely, eating pages and words that belong to Black and Brown writers. In order to save their words, he must figure out the source of the termites before it’s too late.

One of the best features of this book is its mixed media format. Writer Jason Reynolds and artist  Zeke Peña tell Miles’s latest adventure through prose, poetry, and illustrations. Not only does this enhance the storyline by exploring Miles’s point of view through multiple media, but it also serves to draw in readers of different stripes, whether they are reluctant ones or well-read. Zeke Peña’s artwork consists of intricate black-and-white drawings that provide a visual for certain thoughts that Miles has, such as the changes he’s experienced since getting his powers. Yet the poetry is a special treat, showcasing Reynolds’s skill and giving Miles deeper character development by exploring his emotions and creativity.

A notable use of poetry is when Miles uses poems to answer questions on his school work, such as a question for chemistry class that asks, “When have you ever been a green banana? A brown and bruised one?” Miles responds, in part, “No / I ain’t ever been no green banana / I was born brown / and what some call bruises be Brooklyn / beauty marks.” These lines are even more powerful when you read what comes before—a series of poems about his family and neighborhood that represent his “banana tree.” 

In fact, there are so many enjoyable poems in this book that I bookmarked quite a few as favorites as I read this on my ereader. There were also moments, moreover, that Reynolds’s prose reads like poetry. A favorite example is when he writes, “The library at Brooklyn Visions Academy was big and warm and had the leather and wood, cooper grommets and rivets, and all the sophisticated craftsmanship of an old building. As if the woodworkers were trying to make a monument out of cursive writing. The banisters all curled. Pillars like t’s crossed with intricately decorated beams.”

In addition to Miles himself, the book revolves around a new and returning cast of characters such as Miles’s crush, Alicia; Miles’s best friend, Ganke; and his fellow in-school suspension classmate Tobin E. Rogers. Although Miles only has a handful of interactions with Alicia, they are wholesome in that “I got butterflies for you but not sure if it’s mutual” way that teenage crushes have. 

One minor issue I had with the characterization is the lack of explanation for who the antagonist was revealed to be. Although he is a solid allegorical representation of racism and book banning and is implied to be connected to the antagonist from the previous book, I didn’t quite understand how he got involved in the first place. 

A minor detail I enjoyed is how you didn’t necessarily need to know or remember what happened in the first book in order to enjoy this one. Since the events of the previous book are summarized in a simple manner, readers can jump right in without any confusion. 

All in all, Miles Morales: Suspended takes a powerful stand against book censorship by showing why words and books matter. With prose, poetry, and artwork, Jason Reynolds and Zeke Peña show that while the books and words of marginalized writers may get devalued, they are still worth writing down and reading.

The summer before her fall semester at college, Winnie is happily spending her time at Misty Haven, working at her grandmother’s restaurant, Goldeen’s, and spending time with her ungirlfriend, Kara. When she is unexpectedly crowned Summer Queen at Misty Haven’s traditional matchmaking event, she is forced out of her comfort zone by the spotlight, obligations, and the heart-on-your-sleeves honesty of the Summer King. Now, Winnie must confront her fears in order to become the best version of herself.

One of the best things about this book is its Black, fat, dark-skinned, and queer female protagonist, Winnie. A character like this is rare in young adult fiction; as far as I’m aware, the only other character who comes close is Alice, the protagonist of Claire Kann’s first book, Let’s Talk About Love. A key difference between Alice and Winnie is that Alice doesn’t experience fatmisia like Winnie does. While the fatmisia displayed by doctors and some family members in this novel may be triggering for some, it also demonstrates the unfortunate reality that Black dark-skinned fat girls live in. However, Winnie isn’t solely defined by her race or her weight; she’s funny, loving, and stubborn, too. In fact, the latter two traits result in an emotionally satisfying character arc.

In addition to Winnie, the rest of the cast of characters is also memorable. Winnie’s young brother, Winston, shows promising potential as a chef and is snarky and caring. Winne’s cousin Sam is well-meaning and loving but also lacks self-awareness at times. Winne’s grandmother makes the strongest impression of all the characters due to her complexity as an overly controlling family member who is also a resourceful businesswoman. In addition to standing well on their own, each of the characters helps Winnie grow as a person.

Rounding out the cast is Winnie’s flawed but thoughtful queerplatonic partner, Kara, and the sweet love interest, Dallas. A queer platonic relationship is a relationship that doesn’t fit the norms of romance or friendship and is rare in novels. As a result, to see it depicted in such a down-to-earth and educational way is wonderful. The way Kara and Dallas are handled in terms of their relationships to Winnie and how each of them figures out what they want from the others is well done.

In addition to the main protagonist and the other characters, the setting for this book is absolutely enchanting. The cozy atmosphere and quirky characters reminded me of the town from the TV show Gilmore Girls, except with more diversity. Goldeen’s is a restaurant I would like to visit for the characters and the food, while Kara’s baked goods are also enticing since they are described in such a mouthwatering way. Winnie’s custom-designed outfits are so creative and enhance the magic that she already possesses. 

Another quirk of this book that was fun is the myriad pop culture references littered throughout—something that carries over from Let’s Talk About Love. One particularly notable moment occurs when Winston, Dallas, and Winnie watch a Lord of the Rings film and have a discussion about Black characters in fantasy. It’s a nice touch that allows Winston and Dallas to warm up to each other after meeting for the first time.

If there is any flaw in this book, it is that the pacing may be slow for some. The book takes its time to tell Winnie’s story and develop her relationships to the other characters, but this allows the reader to gain a deep appreciation for the characters. Another minor flaw is that there is a question brought up that doesn’t seem to get an answer. However, the lack of clarity doesn’t ruin the enjoyment of the book.

All in all, Claire Kann’s If It Makes You Happy is a down-to-earth summer story filled with personal growth and complex relationships. It shows that sometimes, doing what’s best for you and the ones you love means getting out of your comfort zone and creating the space you need to grow. It is emotionally affecting and poignant—a new summer classic for a new generation.