The Sea of Monsters, by Rick Riordan, 2006

Percy Jackson almost makes it through a year of school without incident, until fire-hurling Laistrygonian monsters show up in gym class on his last day. His not-so-little little brother, Tyson, saves him, and together they flee with Annabeth to Camp Half Blood, which has had a leadership shakeup and fallen on hard times. Could this be another step in Kronos' bid to return to power, aided by disgruntled heartthrob Half Blood and Percy's old nemesis, Luke? Like good Greek tragedy, a full cast of monsters for our hero to battle; like good middle-grade fantasy, a loyal if complicated band of friends to join in the quest. Fun, fast, furious. Book Two of Percy Jackson and the Olympians is strongly recommended. Read the books in order.

The Squire's Tale, by Gerald Morris, 1998

There's something unusual about Terrence, squire to Sir Gawain of King Arthur's Round Table, and neither he nor anyone else -- except Merlin -- seems to know why. Time and again his instincts and courage save Sir Gawain on their quests, and as Gawain comes to better understand women, Terrence learns about his origins, saving the king in the process. Terrence calls to mind Taryn in Lloyd Alexander's Prydain chronicles. True to the form of knightly romance, the story wanders from quest to quest, and modern critics might wish for a more character-driven narrative where knowledge isn't so often magically handed to the main character. Nevertheless, a satisfying read. Recommended.

The Moorchild, by Eloise McGraw, 1996

Old Bess could tell that the baby in the truckle bed was different than before -- its eyes changed color, and it screamed night and day, especially when the iron-wearing blacksmith came indoors! But Yanno and Anwara, the baby's parents, wouldn't hear what Old Bess had to say: that the baby was a changeling, one of the Moorfolk, swapped for their own infant. So Saaski grew and tried to do as a human child would, but that didn't stop the villagers from calling her freaky-odd, and blaming their troubles upon her. Engrossing middle grade fantasy, complex, psychological, atmospheric. Most strongly recommended.

The Place Where Nobody Stopped, by Jerry Segal, 1991

For a place that's hardly a place, just a cluster of cottages between Smolensk and Vitebsk, the place where nobody stops keeps getting visitors. First Yosip the lonely Baker, the Sergeant Major and his platoon of cossacks, Mordecai ben Yahbahbai the impractical scholar and his intelligent wife Ginzl, then their ten babies ... An original story in Russian folktale's clothing, with many layers of sweetness and horror and complexity: love and loneliness, poetry and practicality, valor and violence, and the collision of cultures and ways in turn-of-the-century Czarist Russia. Recommended for middle grade and up.

How I Found the Strong, by Margaret McMullan, 2004

Frank "Shanks" Russell watches as his father and brother enlist in the Confederate Army, full of promises to be home by Christmas. He stays home with his mother, his grandparents, and Buck, the family's slave. The family endures the mounting horrors and privations of the war amid departures, deaths, and births, and Shanks finds his courage tested without ever going to war. Elegant, thoughtful, compassionate writing; a moving and convincing portrayal of the Civil War and its moral dilemmas. Strongly recommended.

Changing Tunes, by Donna Jo Napoli, 1998

When Eileen's dad moves out, he takes the piano with him, forcing her to practice in the school auditorium every afternoon with a janitor for her audience. But she can't bring herself to tell her best friend Stephanie why she plays at school every day, or what's really going on at home. A middle grade divorce story with disappointingly stiff characters and unremarkable events. Not recommended.

Fame and Glory in Freedom, Georgia, by Barbara O'Connor, 2003

Bird's looking for a friend, and when gangly, squinty-eyed, tight-lipped Harlem Tate moves into town to live with can-scavenging Mr. Moody, Bird figures he's unaccounted for and might be won over. With the help of her neighbor / fairy godmother Miss Delphine, she persuades Harlem to be her partner in the sixth-grade spelling bee. A surprising, satisfying, funny, believable, oh-so-Southern middle-grade novel as warm and fragrant as Miss Delphine's apple pie. Strongly recommended.

George and the Dragon Word, by Dianne Snyder, 1991

When George's ugly word turns Greataunt Agatha into a dragon, she drags him to a goaty-looking linguist named Wordsmith who makes custom words to order, so he can create a word to undo the damage. A light and short read perfect for elementary readers who are discovering the power of words, of sounds -- and of kindness. Recommended.

Marcy Hooper and the Greatest Treasure in the World, by Stephanie Tolan, 1991

The one thing Marcy Hooper feels she can do well is read -- maybe not so well that she remembers how the words are spelled, but well enough to be carried away to the magical worlds of princesses and dragons in the stories she likes best. But one day when she runs away from home she finds herself in a cave where her storybook tales are real, and her search for treasure brings unexpected results. Geared for elementary school readers.

The Green Book, by Jill Paton Walsh, 1982

Father says they may only bring one book each on the ship that will carry them from Earth, on the verge of destruction, to the nearest habitable planet. Joe brings Robinson Crusoe, and Sarah a pony story, but Pattie brings The Green Book, which is blank. Their new planet, which Pattie names Shine, has air and water and sparkling vegetation as if made of glass -- but can it sustain them? A lean, graceful text, simple yet compelling, with not a word out of place. Its unusual point of view stance is ultimately rewarded. Strongly recommended.

Witch's Wishes, by Vivian Vande Velde, 2003

Well-intentioned wish granting goes awry on Halloween night -- and so does the attempted reversal -- when a witch rewards a kind young girl by making her costume magic wand turn real. Whether Sarah's wishes come true or turn upside-down, the results are disastrous, just as the witch's wise-cracking broomstick warned her. A short and lively early grade light fantasy novel, full of whimsy and a surprising level of complexity for the length and readership age. Strongly recommended.

Beyond the Deepwoods: Book 1 of The Edge Chronicles, by Paul Stewart and Chris Riddell, 1998

When long-legged Twig learns he's not really a woodtroll, he sets off through the Deepwoods to locate his adoptive cousin and perhaps find his destiny. He's waylaid by a parade of the bizarre and predatory inhabitants of the Deepwoods, and nearly digested on more than one occasion before discovering his true origins. A collaboration between author and illustrator, this episodic novel's great strenth is its vivid menagerie of frightful beasties, wonderfully drawn by Chris Riddell. Its weakness is its overreliance on those beasties, and on the illustrations themselves, which liven up a sometimes disconnected narrative. Points for each time the word "sticky" is used, and the text's bonus word is "juddered." For readers fond of monsters and goo, recommended.

Wintersmith, by Terry Pratchett, 2006

When she hears the music of a Morris dance ushering in the winter, Tiffany Aching can't keep her feet still. That's how she catches the attention of the Wintersmith, or elemental god of winter, as cold, persistent, and dense a suitor as a 13-year old girl can have. But he's determined to prove himself to her, and the Nac Mac Feegles -- and Roland, the Baron's son -- have an Olympic quest to undergo to save Tiffany and restore the balance of nature, even if Tiffany's not used to being rescued, thank you very much. The third Tiffany Aching story contains more of the same Pratchett absurdity, and plenty of Feegles, but it lacks the luster of books one and two. Recommended.

A Hat Full of Sky, by Terry Pratchett, 2004 (Tiffany Aching and the Wee Free Men #2)

Tiffany's off to the mountains to learn proper witchery, leaving behind the Chalk, the sheep, and the Baron's son Roland, a connoisseur of curtseys. But something sinister is searching for just such a host as Tiffany's powerful mind, and Tiffany finds she can't leave the blue, six-inch Nac Mac Feegle behind, wherever she goes. A take-no-prisoners sequel with at least as many belly laughs as the first. Smart and delicious. Most strongly recommended; read the books in order.

A Great and Terrible Beauty, by Libba Bray, 2003

With her mother's 1895 suicide in a Bombay marketplace, 16-year old Gemma Doyle begins to have alarming visions that fill her with a terrible foreboding of a power seeking to devour. Her family whisks her off to England to Spence Academy for girls to erase the scandal and make a lady of her. But strange visions follow, as does a swarthy young Indian, Kartik, who warns her not to tamper with the power beneath them. The novel invokes Victorian England's obsession with spiritualism and sensuality.

Wizard at Work, by Vivian Vande Velde, 2003

All the wizard wants is a quiet summer of fishing and gardening, but no, people keep insisting he solve their problems, and so the longsuffering wizard is summoned to every end of the kingdom in this episodic, fractured fairy tale novel. You just might learn the real story behind some tales you thought you knew. The understated, wry wizard is superb. Smart, funny, recognizable yet new, every tale is surprising but right, and carefully woven into the theme of the whole. For young middle grade up through advanced dementia, strongly recommended.

The Great Good Thing, by Roderick Townley, 2001

"Sylvie had an amazing life, but she didn't get to live it very often." From this enticing first line unfolds a post-modern, funny, clever, dramatic, psychological, sad, delicious fairy-tale fantasy. Where other narratives attempting this kind of storybook-comes-to-life format flop and fizzle, The Great Good Thing (so aptly named) never misses. To summarize would be sacrelige; hurry and read it. After you've read it, tell me what you expected from Thomas. It merits a new category in the Julie Berry blog: vehemently recommended.

The Charm Bracelet (Fairy Realm #1), by Emily Rodda, 2000

Jessie hates to think of Granny leaving Blue Moon, her mountain home, but Jessie's mom says she must, now that she's taken a fall and her mind's not working like it should. Jessie wonders if it's not the fall, nor living alone, that's affected Granny, but the loss of her charm bracelet. A midnight summons from the wall to the secret garden shows Jessie that Granny is the true queen of a fairy realm that's now in terrible danger. A trite, patronizing narrative. Textual clues suggest an 11 or 12-year old Jessie, but illustrations and the utter mindlessness of the character, narration, and plot suggest a girl of six or seven, which is probably the target market. Overwritten, obsessed with and justifying its wise and "kindly" adults at the expense of its child hero. A Babysitter's Club of young girl fantasy. Some may enjoy it, but from me, not recommended.

Wild Robert, by Diana Wynne Jones, 1989

Heather hates living at Castlemaine, where her parents are curators, and where tourists flock like sheep, leaving her no private place except the mound at the edge of the lawn. When Heather accidentally summons from the mound the glowing form of Wild Robert, once the heir to Castlemaine but for some treachery on account of his witchcraft, she finds she has far greater problems than tourists on her hands. A brush with the past that offers as much complication as romance, short and tightly written early middle grade fantasy. Strongly recommended.

The Clue of the Linoleum Lederhosen, by M.T. Anderson, 2006

When Katie needs a break from solving hideous horrors and crimes, she, her best friend, Lily, and Jasper Dash, Boy Technonaut, head to Moose Tongue Lodge on Resort on scenic Mt. Anderson (look twice at the name) for some detection-free R&R. But it seems they're not the only action-thriller book series heroes present, and nefarious crime has followed, nay, summoned, them there. The second in Anderson's nutty "Thrilling Tales" series promises a large second helping of the absurdity found in Whales on Stilts. It may depend even more heavily than the first title on allusion and parody of the childhood pulp fiction series of yesteryear, and therefore may make more sense to adult readers. Still, recommended.