Ah, spring, the season of tulips and cherry blossoms! Or is it the season of endless cold rain, protests, war, economic collapse, and constitutional crisis? Either way, there are good books, and thank goodness.

I’ve read about 260 books since January and thought I’d feature some of the real standouts so far. These have all been published this year (2025, for those keeping track at home). Hat tip, as usual, to Betsy Bird at Fuse 8 (especially for My Presentation Today is About the Anaconda, which I would have missed if not for her), and Heavy Medal for Newbery-eligible titles.

Picture books

• Let’s Be Bees by Shawn Harris: Hands-down one of the best toddler storytime books of the year, and maybe ever. The crayon drawings use kids’ own most common medium, and there are lots of sound effects. It’s hard to make a book this simple, and simply appealing.
• The Interpreter by Olivia Abtahi, illus. Monica Arnaldo: A glorious book honoring the many kids who work as interpreters for their grown-ups; the hero of this book finds a way to balance her job as an interpreter with her job of being a kid. Filled with warmth and humor and really effective use of color in speech bubbles.
• The House on the Canal by Thomas Harding, illus. Britta Teckentrup: There are biographies, and there are histories, and then there are books that tell a story from a slantwise angle: the history of the house that became known as the Anne Frank House, from before it was built, through many different residents (human and animal) and disasters (fire, war) up to its present status as a museum.
• Our Wild Garden by Daniel Seton, illus. Pieter Fannes: Two children convince their parents to re-wild their garden. This features specifically English flora and fauna, but is inspiring for any audience (although unfortunately, no matter how many little hedgehog doors we build here, we will not attract wild hedgehogs to our yards). The endpapers are flat-out gorgeous – they’d be amazing as fabric, wallpaper, or wrapping paper.
• A Pocket Full of Rocks by Kristin Mahoney, illus. E.B. Goodale: Another marvelous read-aloud, for any time of year. A child collects rocks in winter, flower petals in spring, seashells in summer, and acorns in autumn, and uses them all in a fairy garden, then empties the jar, makes presents for their family, and starts over. The way this kid follows their interests without being deterred reminds me a bit of Mabel (see below). And I always love Goodale’s illustrations.
• Every Monday Mabel by Jashar Awan: Jashar Awan has had my attention since What A Lucky Day! (2020), and Mabel is an absolute storytime grand slam. Readers’ curiosity is piqued right away, wondering why Mabel thinks Mondays are the best, despite her family’s disinterest in her passion – which turns out to be the garbage truck, complete with arm that picks up the trash can and dumps it (and sound effects!). Mabel is satisfied – though sad her family missed out on the experience – but other kids throughout the neighborhood celebrate the truck’s arrival as well.
• Wind Watchers by Micha Archer: More beautiful collage art from Archer, and another calm and thoughtful story, as three kids observe and experience the wind through different weather and seasons. I particularly love one of the autumn spreads, with one kid perpetually suspended leaping into a pile of leaves.
• Sweet Babe! A Jewish Grandma Kvells by Robin Rosenthal: Bold, stylish art for a bold, stylish grandma who just wants to kvell over her marvelous baby! The two play peek-a-boo, and just LOOK. AT. THIS. BABY! Who could say no? A Yiddish glossary is included, but I suspect that this book’s cultural specificity isn’t a barrier to its universality. Grandparents are gonna kvell!
• Stalactite & Stalagmite by Drew Beckmeyer: Brilliant premise, hilarious execution, exceptional art. I’ve never seen a picture book that covers millions of years, from trilobites to the present. Most of the story is in dialogue between Stalactite and Stalagmite and other visitors to their cave (a triceratops, a giant sloth, a human miner) and there’s an inconspicuous timeline along the bottom of each page.

Middle grade

• A World Worth Saving by Kyle Lukoff: This high-stakes fantasy adventure with Jewish mythology and a trans main character trying to save a friend and assert his identity to his parents requires the reader’s full concentration. It’s unlike any other middle grade fiction out there today.
• Away by Megan E. Freeman: I loved Alone, and so did the kids of Massachusetts – it was an MCBA winner. This companion stands alone, or you could read them in either order. Away has the perspectives of four kids instead of one, and different types of narration, and it comes together really well. (Also, there is a dog, and nothing bad happens to the dog.) Away really raises questions about social trust, community, government, and good trouble.
• Max in the Land of Lies by Adam Gidwitz: Last year’s Max in the House of Spies was the first in a duology; the second book has a much more compressed timeframe, in weeks rather than years, and it’s high stakes: Max has returned to Berlin with the dual missions of spying for the British and finding his parents. The pacing and tone are different from the first book, but Gidwitz carries it all off successfully.
• Crumble by Meredith McLaren: In this graphic novel, the main character and her mother and aunt all have the power to bake their feelings into food (think Like Water for Chocolate). But they aren’t supposed to bake bad feelings, so what is Emily supposed to do when tragedy strikes and the only thing she wants to do is bake? Crumble handles grief delicately and honestly. And there are recipes.
• My Presentation Today is About the Anaconda by Bibi Dumon Tak: Animals gather to give presentations about other animals, with frequent interruptions from the audience. Some presentations are self-centered, others well-researched, others a bit peculiar. The animals’ reasons for choosing their subjects vary, and overall it’s an entertaining batch of oral reports filled with fascinating facts and scientific vocabulary.
• Botticelli’s Apprentice by Ursula Murray Husted: This graphic novel set Florence features a determined “chicken girl” who dreams of being an artist, and an artist’s apprentice who’s stuck with an assignment he can’t accomplish; the two make a deal to help each other, and after a prickly start, they each learn from one another. Well-researched and full of information about early Renaissance Florence, the processes of preparing canvases and creating paints, and why there weren’t more female artists, this is historical fiction at its best. And there’s a mischievous dog. (Again, nothing happens to the dog. Although dogs really shouldn’t eat lapis.)
• Right Back At You by Carolyn Mackler: I have a feeling this one isn’t going to stick in my memory, but I loved it while I was reading it. It’s got just the kind of speculative premise I like – a kind of time wormhole through which the characters send letters from New York in 2023 to Pennsylvania in 1987 – and it reminded me of Erin Entrada Kelly’s You Go First in the way the two characters help each other work through their challenges.

Young Adult

• Under the Same Stars by Libba Bray: Characters in three timelines – 1930s Nazi Germany, the divided Berlin of the 1980s, and 2020 COVID-19-era New York – are connected through a history of war, oppression, and resistance. Reading is subjective, of course, but I felt that each section had a similar emotional weight; often in books with past and present settings, one has more pull than another.

Adult

• Show Don’t Tell by Curtis Sittenfeld: As a longtime Sittenfeld fan, I was pleased by all these stories, including a coda to Prep.
• Everything Is Tuberculosis by John Green: In engaging prose, Green demonstrates how modern TB has much more to do with injustice than with bacteria. The world has had the cure for TB since last century, and the disease has largely been eradicated in developed countries, yet millions still die of TB every year “where the cure is not.” A clear and urgent call for healthcare justice. (And the book design is just as clever as the contents: make sure to examine the endpapers!)
• The Paris Express by Emma Donoghue: “A railway carriage is as intimate as a dinner party, but one with no host and guests assembled at random.” I got to see Emma Donoghue speak at a bookshop last month, and she was wonderful. My library hold on The Paris Express came in not long after, and I enjoyed the multiple perspectives of the people on the train, and the tension of wondering about the nature and scope of the impending disaster. Researched in depth and told with clarity and drama.
• Do I Know You? A Faceblind Reporter’s Journey into the Science of Sight, Memory, and Imagination by Sadie Dingfelder: “What is it like to be someone else?” Dingfelder has prosopagnosia (faceblindness) and stereoblindness, but didn’t realize until adulthood that she wasn’t neurotypical. Her writing about the way she experiences the world is fascinating and funny.

So those are my top titles of 2025 so far. What are yours?

On St. Patrick’s Day, author Emma Donoghue was interviewed at the Odyssey Bookshop in South Hadley, and I was able to squeeze in a visit in the middle of my library shift (and be back in time for Pajama Storytime). I’ve been reading Emma Donoghue’s books my whole adult life: since 2007, I’ve read fourteen of her books, and I’m looking forward to reading her newest, The Paris Express, as soon as my library copy comes in. It was a treat to hear her speak about her new book, research, adapting novels into other forms, being Irish and Canadian, and more. Here are a few snippets from the interview:

• On being an Irish writer, even though she’s lived in Canada since 1998: “The first twenty years are the years that mark you and shape you.”
• On the topic of the train crash: “I’ve always wanted to write about a disaster of some kind.” They bring a cross-section of people together. The train journey gives shape to the novel.
• On anarchists and explosions: “They were never that clear how blowing things up would help.”
• On pacing: “Speed is the heart of the novel.” (One entitled rider demanded an unscheduled stop, adding ten minutes to the trip, which the transit employees tried to make up later in the journey: “So basically one rich arsehole ruined it for everyone.”)
• On characters being cut from the novel: All of the characters were interesting people, but they “had to be having an interesting day,” even if the conflict they faced was mostly internal. “What I love about novels is that you can jump into the head of each character in turn.”
• On writing a novel with a large cast: “It was like planning an amazing dinner party,” bringing people together and seeing how they interacted.
• On novels being made into films: “I don’t think about film when I’m writing a novel…each form has its own strengths…I love doing adaptations” [of her own work and others’, such as the upcoming H Is for Hawk]. Writing the story as a novel first, then adapting to film, is the right sequence; a novel allows for “rich imagining.”
• On adapting someone else’s work: “I felt like a tiny figure climbing inside a machine made by someone else.”
• On the writing process: “It never feels as if you’re alone…” I feel as though I’ve been with people all morning on a moving train.
• On writing about disaster: “My interest was in the tension. I didn’t want it to be a bloodbath.” But each character wonders, “Am I going to die?” And all of them have been “derailed” from the “predictable path” of their day.
• On living in a diverse, multicultural society: “The train is a more interesting train if it has a wide variety of people on it.” (The train itself is a POV character in The Paris Express.)
• On adapting one form to another: It’s “spinning the same yarn again.” She likes all forms, from novel to film to play to musical: “Whatever gets my story into your head.”
• On her new project: A musical with traditional Irish music about people who emigrated from Antrim to Canada during the Famine.
• On thinking about whether a book will sell: “I write books, then sell them….If you write a lot of things, one of them will pay the rent.”

Thank you, Emma, for your many books, and for visiting us in Western Massachusetts!

Quotations are from my notes, accurate to the best of my ability.