Grief-stricken over the recent death of her marine biologist mother with whom she lived in Japan, 12-year-old Willa Twitchell is trying to adjust to her new normal.  Now residing on an island in Washington State, she shares a loud, chaotic home with her dad, stepmom, three younger step-siblings, and a baby half-sister.  The best thing about being back on Tupkuk Island is her renewed friendship with her long-time best friend Marc Mendoza, but even he is acting strangely.  With her life all upside-down, Willa finds solace in the same place her mother always did: the sea.  

While on a whale-watching trip with her dad, Willa is stunned when a humpback speaks to her.  Somehow, she can hear the creature's thoughts and hold lively conversations with the social animal who is named Meg.  The whale assures Willa that she can call on her new friend anytime for any reason—and Willa does.  She unloads all of her worries and fears
on the sympathetic humpback.  When a blue whale washes up on Tupkuk's shore, she becomes especially scared.  Willa's only a small girl.  How can she save the dying creature?  The townspeople are talking about all kinds of inhumane solutions to get rid of its body, including blowing it up or letting it rot.  Willa knows her mother would do everything in her power to save the whale; Willa intends to do the same.  With Meg's help, she puts a plan into action.  Will it work?  And what will happen when it's time for Meg to move on with her pod?  How will Willa, already wracked with sorrow, say goodbye to her friend?  

Willa and the Whale, the newest middle-grade novel by husband-and-wife writing team Chad Morris and Shelly Brown, is a gentle, hopeful novel about grief, friendship, and healing.  Filled with whale trivia, it teaches the reader about whales while also imparting greater life lessons.  Willa is a sympathetic character, although she sometimes comes off as self-centered and victim-y.  She does show growth during the course of the novel, but I still found her a little irritating.  Likewise, I found the magical realism element of this book a tad annoying.  It just wasn't convincing to me, which made the whole story fall a bit flat for me.  Add to that the fact that there's no real plot to keep the tale focused and you can see why Willa and the Whale was a like-it-didn't-love-it read for me.  I always appreciate a warm, empowering middle-grade novel; this is certainly that, even if it wasn't as satisfying as I wanted it to be.

(Readalikes:  Reminds me of The Elephant's Girl by Celesta Rimington and Song for a Whale by Lynne Kelly)

(Image from Amazon)

When cancer steals her mother's life before she has even turned sixty, 38-year-old Kal feels surprisingly adrift.  Over the years, she's gotten used to the fact that her mercurial mother never loved her.  Elena MacKenzie had plenty of affection for her younger daughter, Alice, but none for Kal.  Grief-stricken by the loss of a woman she never understood, Kal is thrown for a shocking loop when she finds a stack of mysterious postcards in her mother's things.  Going back more than 20 years, each was written on the same day of the year and signed the same way by the same Canadian woman:  "Thinking of you."  Kal knows Elena studied marine biology in North America before marrying and moving to England, but she knows little about those early years and she's never heard her mother mention a woman named Susannah Gillespie.  Who was this Canadian artist to Elena?  Why did she send a postcard every year?  What's the significance of the date on the cards?  

Already feeling bruised from suspicions that her husband is cheating on her, Kal makes an impulsive decision to travel to British Columbia and find Susannah.  With her toddler in tow, she sets out for remote Spring Tide Island, hoping to find the answers she so desperately seeks.  Meeting Susannah, a potter who claims to have been Elena's best friend, just creates more questions.  The woman, who seems to have been obsessed with Kal's mother, has also formed a strange attachment to Kal's son, 18-month-old Finn.  Despite frantic calls from her husband and warnings from her father to stay away from Susannah, Kal refuses to leave Canada until she understands who her mother was and what happened between her and her old BFF.  The more Kal learns, the more distressed she grows.  Something horrible happened to Elena, that much is clear and—as Kal finally realizes—the past is about to repeat itself if she can't get herself and Finn off the island.  With a storm threatening to cut off all communication with the mainland, Kal will have to risk her own life to save them both. 

Everyone who hangs out around here knows I can't resist an atmospheric thriller.  The moodier and broodier, the better.  The Missing One, a 2014 debut by journalist Lucy Atkins, certainly qualifies.  Atkins does an excellent job painting Spring Tide Island in thick, foggy grays that make it feel cold, isolated, and eerie.  It's a shivery backdrop, perfect for a gripping psychological thriller, which is exactly what The Missing One is.  The book is not an edge-of-your-seat kind of read (at least not until the end), but it is engrossing and compelling.  Overly long, yes, but not boring.  Predictable to a point, indeed, but not without its plot surprises.  As far as characters go, it's tough to find a truly likable one in this story.  They're a pretty messed up group, with plenty of selfish obsessiveness to go around.  While Kal is the most appealing of the bunch, I still found her irrational, whiny, and slow on the uptake.  Still, I definitely wanted to find out what was going to happen to her.  That need to know kept me reading.  In the end, then, I liked The Missing One well enough, but I can't say I loved it.  I'm up for more from Atkins, though, and that's saying a lot.

(Readalikes:  Reminds me of books by Peter May, Carol Goodman, and Ruth Ware)

(Image from Barnes & Noble)

Gertrude "Trudy" Swann knows exactly what to expect from her future.  After graduating from the Milwaukee College for Females, she'll marry sweet, straightforward Ernst, settle into a house not far from her parents', and rear a brood of well-tended children.  It will be a pleasant life, placid and predictable.  If only Trudy could settle for that!  But, no, the 19-year-old longs for adventure, something more than mundane Midwestern married life.  

When Trudy meets Ernst's cousin, Oskar, she's smitten with his charming, ambitious nature.  Despite her family's misgivings, the couple marry and set out on what promises to be a thrilling endeavor in California's rugged, remote Big Sur.  Point Lucia, the untamed island on which Oskar will be working as an assistant lighthouse keeper, is more primitive than the newlyweds ever could have imagined.  The only other people on the island are the Crawleys, an enigmatic family with plenty of secrets.  Immediately taken by the Crawley children, Trudy becomes their teacher, playmate, and co-explorer.  As she and Oskar adjust to their hardscrabble island existence, trouble soon surfaces in paradise.  Between Mrs. Crawley's constant disapproval, Oskar's increasingly unsettling behavior, and a shocking secret hiding in the rocks, Trudy's little adventure will turn into an extraordinary experience destined to change her life forever.

The Edge of the Earth by Christina Schwarz is a quiet, but compelling novel about finding oneself in the most unexpected of places.  Big Sur makes for a vivid, exotic setting.  Details about marine life and lighthouse keeping give the story authenticity without dragging it down.  Trudy, Oskar, and the rest of the cast are complex, intriguing characters.  I definitely wanted to know what was going to happen to them all.  Although The Edge of the Earth tells a sad story, I enjoyed this absorbing novel about the nature of a marriage, the nature of an island, and the nature of a woman on the cusp of discovering the person she is truly meant to be.  

(Readalikes:  Reminded me a little of At the Water's Edge by Sara Gruen)

Grade:

If this were a movie, it would be rated:

for language (no F-bombs), violence, and mild sexual content

To the FTC, with love:  Another library fine find