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As Northern California's reigning middle-weight Brazillian jiu-jitsu champion, 16-year-old Katina "Kat" King is known for being as tough as steel.  When she becomes the victim of an attempted assault, it throws her, plaguing her with debilitating nightmares and panic attacks.  Although she's not one to run from her problems, Kat's single mother insists Kat needs a change of scenery.  She sends her to Boston to live with "Ms. Vee," a family friend who's originally from Sierra Leone.  As the mixed-race daughter of a white mother and a Black father (whom she's never met), Kat's used to getting strange looks—no one gives her a second glance when she's out with Ms. Vee, whose skin tone matches Kat's own.  For this reason and more, Kat feels safe and protected under the watchful eye of her frail caretaker.  So, when Ms. Vee encourages Kat to attend her church's youth group meeting, Kat reluctantly goes as a favor to the woman who has taken her in.  

Adopted from India by white parents, 18-year-old Robin Thornton understands what it means to get weird looks from strangers.  Although his parents have done what they can to help him connect with the land of his birth, he still struggles with his neither-here-nor-there identity.  When Robin meets Kat at youth group, he senses that beneath her prickly exterior lies a girl who just might get him better than anyone else ever has.  

Then the youth group's pastor announces he's heading up a service trip to Kolkata to help victims of human trafficking.  Both Kat and Robin see the trip as a life-changing opportunity.  Kat wants to empower women and children so they won't be victims again by teaching them martial arts moves.  Robin longs for answers that might be found at the Kolkata orphanage where he once lived.  As the two embark on the trip to India, they will journey closer—not just to a friendship that will sustain them both, but also to their honest, most true selves.

Forward Me Back to You by Mitali Perkins is an engaging novel about identity, friendship, love, and strength in all its various forms.  The characters are sympathetic and likable.  Plotwise, the story is compelling, but it also gets wordy and overly long.  I got bored in the middle, which seems to go on and on and on. One of the things I really like about the story is how religion is woven into the story, showing that faith doesn't have to be weird or fanatical (as it's portrayed in so many novels), but can be a natural, positive part of life.  I also appreciate that it's a mostly clean novel, which is becoming more and more rare in the world of YA lit.  While I didn't end up loving Forward Me Back to You, overall it's an interesting, moving story that teaches some important lessons.  I liked it for the most part.

(Readalikes:  Reminds me of Secret Daughter by Shilpi Somaya Gowda, Shine Coconut Moon by Neesha Meminger, and A Long Way Home by Saroo Brierley)

Grade:

If this were a movie, it would be rated:

for brief, mild language (no F-bombs), violence, and disturbing subject matter

To the FTC, with love:  I received a finished copy of Forward Me Back to You from the generous folks at Macmillan for the purpose of Cybils Award judging.  Thank you!

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As the youngest of eight children, 16-year-old Pup Flanagan might as well be wearing an invisibility cloak 24/7.  He belongs to a loving family, but his parents are exhausted, his many siblings are busy with their high-achieving lives, and Pup hasn't done anything distinguished enough to really get him noticed.  As a "redheaded, buck-toothed praying mantis" (2), he doesn't attract much attention from members of the opposite sex either.  Especially not from his long-time BFF, who would rather exploit Pup than date him.  The only person who ever really made him feel seen is his big brother, Patrick, who died unexpectedly while off at college.  Now, three years later, it's as if Pup's hero never existed.  His family refuses to talk about Patrick, even though their individual grief leaks through in sometimes alarming ways.  

In danger of failing Studio Art, Pup makes a last-ditch effort to pass by doing a photography project.  To his astonishment, he aces the assignment with a startling photo that reveals the heavy truth about his alcoholic brother.  With the help of a new friend, Pup starts to see the world with a more honest eye, which leads him to finally face some hard facts about his family, his so-called best friend, and his own future.

I've read a million books about grief, so I expected Sorry For Your Loss by Jessie Ann Foley to be just another run-of-the-mill story about loss.  And it is, in the sense that it concerns a family rocked by tragedy and the ways in which each individual member deals with it.  In other ways, it's not a typical grief story because, really, Sorry For Your Loss is about being seen.  This is something Pup struggles with as the youngest in a big family, the average Joe in a clan of overachievers, and the quiet, steady friend who puts up with being walked all over.  He's someone with whom everyone can relate at some level or another and it's impossible not to root for him.  As much as I love Pup as a character what I actually enjoyed most about Sorry For Your Loss is Foley's depictions of life in a large family.  Since I come from one, I know all too well the laughter, tears, tension, drama, and messy love inherent in big broods.  Foley's version rang so true for me that I found myself really feeling Pup's story on so many levels.  Sorry For Your Loss is a beautifully-written novel that's touching and true, relatable and real, poignant and powerful.  I adored it.

(Readalikes:  Grief books are a dime a dozen, but no really comparable titles are coming quickly to mind.  Help?)

Grade:

If this were a movie, it would be rated:

for language (a handful of F-bombs, plus milder expletives), violence, and sexual content

To the FTC, with love:  Another library fine find

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Reared in Saudi Arabia, 17-year-old Susan Thomas has just moved to Ontario, Canada.  Her father stayed behind to tend to his medical practice, leaving her and her mother alone in a foreign city, with promises that he would join them soon.  In the meantime, the two women fumble along trying to figure out life in a new place.  Although Susan is not the only Indian student at her high school, nor the only one with immigrant parents, she still feels out of place there.  Even at home, she doesn't feel entirely comfortable since she's hiding a big secret from her parents—Susan has no desire to become the doctor or engineer her parents insist she must be; she longs to become an artist.

Despite his bad-boy reputation, there's a lot more to Malcolm Vakil than meets the eye.  He's still grieving the mother he lost to cancer two years ago and harboring feelings of resentment toward his hard, philandering father.  He can't wait to turn 18 and get out of Dodge.  Who cares if he has no idea what he wants to do with his life?  Malcolm will figure it out—he just needs to get away from home, out in the world where he can breathe.  

When Susan and Malcolm meet, they both feel a connection.  As they slowly become more than friends, however, they both start to realize just how complicated romance can be.  Especially when the rest of their lives are already so tangled.  Can the two of them figure out a way to be together, despite the odds?  Can Susan make sense of her new identity as an Indian and a Canadian?  Will she follow the career path her parents want for her or find the courage to finally stand up for herself?  

Cultural/ethnic identity seems to be a huge theme in YA literature.  I've read dozens of books lately about teens with hyphenated identities trying to straddle the line between their parents' expectations and their own desires and the traditions of their homeland cultures vs. the ideas of the one in which they live.  What am I? and who am I? are big questions—it's no wonder so many YA novels address them.  Because there are so many similar stories, though, books like The Beauty of the Moment by Tanaz Bhathena don't feel all that unique.  Susan and Malcolm are both likable, sympathetic characters, but they really don't stand out among their fictional peers.  The book's plot is one I've read a million times.  No surprises.  Which isn't to say I didn't enjoy The Beauty of the Moment.  I did.  It just doesn't seem to really add anything to a crowded genre.  So, while I liked the novel, it doesn't stick out as a memorable or unique read for me.

(Readalikes:  Reminds me of Frankly in Love by David Yoon)

Grade:

If this were a movie, it would be rated:

for brief, mild language (no F-bombs), violence, rude humor, and sexual innuendo

To the FTC, with love:  I received a copy of The Beauty of the Moment from the generous folks at Macmillan for purposes of Cybils Awards judging.  Thank you!

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(Note:  Although this review will not contain spoilers for Murder Lo Mein, it may inadvertently reveal plot surprises from earlier Noodle Shop mysteries.  As always, I recommend reading books in a series in order.)

Lana Lee is biased, yes, but she knows her family's Chinese restaurant, Ho Lee Noodle House, employs the best chef of Asian cuisine in the city.  And she intends to prove it.  It's Asian Village's turn to host Cleveland's annual Best Noodle Contest; winning the cooking competition would be a major boost for the shopping center and for the Lees' eatery.  Peter Huang can take home the prize for Ho Lee, Lana is sure of it.  

The competition has barely gotten underway when one of its judges is strangled to death at The Bamboo Lounge after receiving a threatening note in a fortune cookie.  As more ominous cookies make the rounds, the other judges begin to fear for their lives.  Lana can't let a killer run amok on her turf.  Detective Adam Trudeau, Lana's "sort-of-maybe boyfriend guy" (11), begs her to leave the sleuthing to the police, but Lana can only promise so much.  She can't let more people die and she won't let Asian Village's reputation be ruined because of nefarious happenings on its grounds.  If the cops can't catch the killer, Lana will.  Even if it means she's next on the murderer's list ...

Murder Lo Mein is the third book in Vivien Chien's always entertaining Noodle Shop Mystery series.  Like its predecessors, this novel is a light, fun read.  The setting is unique, the characters are likable, and the plot moves along quickly.  This isn't my favorite installment, but I still enjoyed it and will definitely keep going with the series.  It's one of the few cozy series I really like.

(Readalikes:  Other books in the Noodle Shop Mystery series, including Death by Dumpling, Dim Sum of All Fears, Wonton Terror, Egg Drop Dead, and Killer Kung Pao)

Grade:

If this were a movie, it would be rated:

for brief, mild language (no F-bombs), violence, and mild innuendo

To the FTC, with love:  I bought a copy of Murder Lo Mein with a portion of the millions I make from my lucrative career as a book blogger.  Ha ha.