(2) 1-3 Illustrated by Mika Song. "Henry had never practiced smiling. Maybe that was why he never looked like he thought he should in pictures. The idea made Henry not want to smile at all." In this third early chapter book (most recently Henry and the Something New, rev. 1/24), it's class picture day and Henry, who presents as being on the autism spectrum, is not happy about his shirt. The collar is too high, the cuffs are too tight, and "the buttons went on forever." And it's disconcerting that his classmates don't look like themselves, either. Henry remains an appealing character with relatable concerns (to readers neurodivergent or not); Classroom 10 is warm and supportive. As in the previous books, Song's breezy limited-palette illustrations are expressive and provide lots of opportunities for newly independent readers to pause. Before the photo is taken, Henry's tooth unexpectedly pops out (surprisingly quickly) and into some potting soil, causing a mild crisis and lots of digging through dirt. The conclusion is satisfying for all, and when Henry smiles for the camera, he means it.

Reviewer: Kitty Flynn | Horn Book Magazine Issue: March, 2025

(2) 4-6 Haven West doesn't understand why her mother is always disappearing--either outside or into the bathroom--or why she herself sees prehistoric creatures in the Texas desert that surrounds her home, but no one else can. She's also not sure why her older sister, Margie, is irritable all the time, although Margie's sensory processing disorder and the way she steps up to keep the household running might have something to do with it. Rye, whose family just moved in nearby, wants to be friends, and his support comes in handy as Haven starts to unravel the mysteries of her family, which bend toward the supernatural. When Mom goes missing for good, Haven, Margie, and Rye--with the help of Margie's provisional driver's license and Rye's father's food truck--set off on a trans-Texas road trip that leads to plenty of answers, both about Haven's family and about her own identity and powers. The tone is slightly whimsical, even as the book delves into serious topics, an effective blend that keeps the plot moving and doesn't let the drama become overwhelming. The characters are likable and authentic, and the resolution is satisfying.

Reviewer: Sarah Rettger | Horn Book Magazine Issue: September, 2023

(2) 4-6 When she slides off the road while driving to pick her mother up from work in a Lake Tahoe snowstorm--in a truck that is also their home--twelve-year-old Lou Montgomery ends up in state custody. A social worker deposits her in Tennessee with an aunt she has never met, and she finds herself in school for the first time in years. Middle-class norms are an adjustment for Lou, as is the encouragement to come to terms with her undiagnosed (and unacknowledged by her mother) sensory processing disorder. Lou gradually learns to accept the support that surrounds her--especially the friendship of her neighbor Well, who turns her into a theater kid--and to understand and manage her condition. But when her mother reestablishes contact, Lou finds her hard-won self-confidence challenged. Sumner does an excellent job of bringing readers into Lou's interior world ("The sounds actually hurt, like knives someone is throwing at me") and demonstrating her growth over the course of the book. Lou's mother is a compelling foil, frustrating in her self-centeredness but also determined to do her best, as she sees it; and Well and the other secondary characters provide a rich backdrop for Lou's story.

Reviewer: Sarah Rettger | Horn Book Magazine Issue: January, 2021