Latest Kids Book Reviews

Griffin Speaker was a wonderful book. The Story starts with a girl named Rain who lives in Bottomseep. She's been told she's destined to chop root for the rest of her life, but what if things can change? All the characters in this story are lovable and have believable character development. This is the perfect middle grade book, definitely check this book out if you like adventures and fantasy ages 10+. It will be released May 5th 2026!

Rain is an orphan grub. Sitting at the very bottom of the hierarchy, she works at her Aunt Willow’s farm helping with the animals. When she turns 13, she will be sent to spend the rest of her life working in the Tubes to collect Root for those higher up on the hierarchy. Problem being, she has Tube Terror. The dark narrow spaces of the Tubes cause her to panic, though she must hide her fear to avoid being dosed with Med, which turns grubbers into mindless, automated workers. During all this, she hears strange, piercing cries coming from her Aunt’s barn, which she has been ordered, under no circumstances, should she ever enter. You know what they say, “Curiosity kills the cat.” Rain’s curiosity gets the best of her, and upon entering, she finds… a wild griffin? That can’t be right, wild griffins haven’t existed for years. Turns out the wild griffin is being trained to help get Lady Orla, a girl at the very top of the social rung, into the Academy, where students learn to be Griffin Riders who enforce the law. Lady Orla plans to enter the Academy under the “Law Of The Chosen”, which dictates that if a griffin naturally bonds with you, you must be let into the Academy, no matter your rank. However, the griffin has now bonded with Rain, and won’t attach to Lady Orla. This, naturally, causes problems. The Griffin Land authorities hunted and disposed of all wild griffins long ago, and if this griffin won’t bond with Lady Orla, his life is at stake. A whirlwind of decisions leads to Rain deciding to take Griff (as he’s been so named) to get herself into the Academy. However, being a grub, the government isn’t so thrilled with the idea of the Griffin Land Order hierarchy being thrown into chaos. It’s a battle to survive and fight her way though challenges to prove that she, too, should have a choice in how her life should be lived. Overall, one of my favorite books I’ve read in a long time. Once started, it’s very hard to put down. Looking forward to future books in the series. 10/10, recommend for ages 10-15.

I read this for the first time a long time ago, and i just finished reading it again for the second time with my little sister. this book is very interesting and it has a very eerie feel to it at times. I enjoy the writing style of it, as it's very descriptive in a way that's not too clunky or hard to read. Would definitely recommend for anyone 9+ who enjoys a slightly eerie fantasy!

When we first meet Firestar, because that's who I know him as now because I'm on the third series, and the fifth book: Warrior cats: Power of Three: Long Shadows, but anyways, at first his name is Rusty and we meet his friend smudge, which is a really cute name for a cat, but then he goes on to be firepaw, because of his pelt color, and once you go on in the series and you get to the part, where he is then Fireheart, and he exposes Tigerclaw (Now Tigerstar, but then he died in the sixth book, The Darkest Hour,) and his plan to kill Bluestar, the ThunderClan leader. So I would recommend this series to EVERYONE who is a cat lover!

I’d heard about this book for a long time, and I wasn’t sure exactly what to expect. For instance, what’s this “club,” a book club or something? Also, more importantly: would this book turn out to follow the same hackneyed patterns of Chinese American literature? But I started reading, and the book certainly starts with a scintillating opening chapter introducing the eponymous Joy Luck Club. At its core, this is a group of four elderly Chinese women who share stories, laugh, eat, and play mahjong. The group’s founding member has passed away suddenly, leaving her daughter confused and grieving. Asked to fill in for her mother at the mahjong table, she learns more about her already inscrutable mother and is given a difficult task. Instantly, I could see the author setting up a tone of sadness tempered with pangs of bitter, undeniable hope, something that wouldn’t disappear even when the plot started to drag a little. I could see the mature and layered writing. I read on, hooked, as the book described in distinct yet readable prose first the mothers’ difficult upbringings in China before World War II, then the daughters’ childhoods, next the continuation of the mothers’ stories, and finally the lives of both mother and daughter during the main timeframe. The book is divided into these sections, each introduced by a pithy, allegorical story. It cycles through each of the characters before returning. Gluing the story together is Jing-Mei Woo, whose personal tragedy and journey of self-discovery begin and end the book, but there’s such a huge detour that in the end it leaves the reader with a deep understanding of all the daughters and mothers connected to the Joy Luck Club. Amy Tan’s debut novel may have lost some relevancy for the newest generation of Chinese American readers, given the fact that she’s now about the same age as the mothers she writes about, but it’s not as bad as it seems. Even though the book is centered on Chinese-American families during the 90s, the themes are universal. There are seven narrators in this story, each with their own personality and life story. This increases the book’s scope at the expense of being a little overwhelming. Some fuzziness is natural, but the structure is clear enough if you don’t mind flipping backward a little bit. It’s come to my attention that people have protested about the stereotypical-leaning descriptions of the parents. If Amy Tan gives them these backstories showing that they are not the plump, eccentric people they appear to be, why make them exclaim “Wah!” or speak broken English? It was a bit discouraging reading about the vague Chinese superstitions that pop out of nowhere, inexplicable as the unintuitive romanization system she seems to employ only for Mandarin. If you do decide to read this book, you’ll have to accept this confusing phenomenon, and for me it was by no means a book-ruining flaw. Also, be warned that any discussion about the father-daughter relationship is basically nonexistent. To a degree that makes sense, because the book is meant to focus on the complex mother-daughter bond. You can’t eat pie and cake in the same meal and not expect to fall into a food coma. Then there are the slight issues with the plot, specifically the huge focus on the daughters’ marriage troubles: whether the marriage is going to fall apart, why it’s falling apart, if parental approval is going to be acquired. Jing-Mei is the only one free from this. While it’s useful to make a quick case study, and to see what the mothers have to say (which are surprisingly insightful), it didn’t hold my attention for long. These are some of the main complaints, but there are many more positive traits that I wholeheartedly believe outshine these problems. For any reader much of the appeal, why the book is “deep,” comes from the immense pathos of the struggles of the mothers in China, as well as the universally-relatable difficulties of communication between parent and child. I teared up a bit while reading this book, and I usually have quite a tolerance for that kind of thing. As a bonus, the symbolism is so layered, the characters’ motivations so multifaceted, that you really can have a rewarding discussion about the Joy Luck Club at a book club. You can also ponder its themes on your own, like I did. Is this book worth reading? Definitely. Does it invite deep thought and reflection? Yes, if you choose to do so. Does it encapsulate the entire experience of being Chinese American? It’s about 70% of the way there. Generally, The Joy Luck Club is well above average—miles above forgettable novels you flip through when you have nothing better to do—and really deserves its spot as a modern classic.