The other ghosts, who collectively narrate, are hoping for “the scariest garden EVER. A real boo-tanical fright”—ideally in the cemetery. But Leonard opts for the backyard. And instead of weeds, he plants seeds, much to the consternation of the others, who “don’t want anything that grows up to be pretty or smell nice.” Once the garden is in full bloom, the real test of its spookiness—or lack thereof—arrives when the ghosts’ human neighbors stop by. Perhaps unsurprisingly, a group of spirits, even adorable ones, is a frightening sight to the adults, who screech in terror, though their child is thrilled at her new neighbors. Leonard’s a sweet little ghost, always wearing his gardening hat and work gloves, a smudge of pink on his cheeks. Each of his friends—depicted as translucent floating sheets—has their own distinctive characteristic: a beanie, a hairbow, glasses, a furrowed brow. An especially captivating illustration shows the unassuming new seedlings reaching toward the sky, looking up at Leonard as he peers down at them, his joy a dramatic contrast to his friend’s dismay. Quietly determined to create the garden of his dreams, Leonard is a hero that readers will root for; the puns and sunny artwork combine for a story that’s just right for those who prefer their Halloween tales on the gentle side.

The family prepares for dinner, greets their guests, and begins the seder service with blessings. Along the way, the young narrator discusses the various customs—and offers earnestly enthusiastic asides. Everyone takes a sip of wine (“I get to drink grape juice”). Soon it’s time for the reading of the Four Questions (“I get to read [them]…because I am the youngest. This is my first year doing it!”). Next, the youngster tells the story of how the Jews escaped slavery in Egypt, the family eats their festive meal (“gefilte fish, roasted chicken, matzah ball soup, potato kugel, and noodle pudding. YUM!”), and the children hunt for the afikoman, the hidden piece of matzah. At last, the seder finishes with a wish for freedom and a “Happy Passover!” Katz’s illustrations rely on bright colors and eye-catching patterns; the characters sport such wide grins that readers can’t help smiling along. The text is clear and easy to follow, each tradition explained simply but effectively at an age-appropriate level, though the addition of backmatter would have been helpful. More complex topics—the seder plate, the 10 plagues—are well illustrated with examples, and the book follows the distinct steps of a seder; however, a few are combined or skipped. The young protagonist is pale-skinned; other characters vary in skin tone.

Many are the challenges of Normal school, as olive-skinned Bea discovers after she leaves the familiar confines of the hotel in which she’s grown up—a sanctuary for Pangean League spies. She’s responding to an urgent message from her Normal friend, brown-skinned Chantal Davis. But doesn’t the chance that there might be an undercover assassin from the archvillainous Arctic League in the student body make it all worthwhile? Bea must surrender her multiple knives—which she fondly refers to as “my sweeties”—at the door to STEAM Academy for Gifted Girls and even insinuate herself into the sycophantic circle around Mabel, the mean queen bee. Munda is clearly having tremendous fun with her concept, and readers will too as Bea drags Chantal and other bemused and confused classmates into a supposedly pretend investigation that quickly takes on the character of a thrilling, high-tech spy caper, complete with a car chase, multiple plot twists, and a climactic lunchroom brawl—along with a slumber party, valuable lessons learned about friendship and bullying, and frustrating exchanges with clueless teachers. Names cue ethnic diversity in the cast.

First, Auntie honors the animal’s sacrifice with a blessing. “Now it’s time to scrape till our hands are raw. After that a good soak and we stretch, pull, tug!” Debut author Iceberg (Aleut/Alutiiq) writes with deceptive simplicity; her lively text flows beautifully, setting an energetic pace and capturing the exuberance of the participants. Earthy details (“Here’s the best part—making brain goo,” “Next, we pee on it! PEE! Yep, all of us!”), conveyed with a child-friendly sensibility, add a playful flair. Donovan’s (Métis) expressive artwork employs an array of hues and dynamic linework to depict the strength and spirit of this communal activity. Colors pop, and a sense of movement infuses the visuals as raindrops pulse, smoke ripples, and the moose hide itself curves across the page. Donovan differentiates the various members of the community, portraying each with care; elders lovingly guide younger children, who observe closely as “a tradition of love passes through.” Everyone takes part, and it’s clear that the experience is both vital to the community’s livelihood and a crucial part of the culture. All parts of the moose, including the hide, are used for a meaningful purpose; nothing goes to waste.

Chapman worked in cattle, oil, trucking, and mining before getting into the real estate finance business, rising to the top of that industry despite refusing to change his redneck persona (on his book’s cover, the author sports a trucker cap, braided beard, and camouflage) one iota. This volume is anything but the standard business guide; Chapman doubles down on the redneck shtick right from the start, calling each chapter an “Ass Beatin’” and giving them titles like “Quit Jerkin’ Off,” “No One Gives a Damn About You,” and “Put Your Ass on the Line.” He makes liberal use of the terms sumbitchand damn, and cheerfully invites readers who don’t like his language, style, or message to toss the book in a dumpster or set it on fire. But the core messages are timeless: Life is difficult and unpredictable, the road to success is often rocky, and trust, reliability, resilience, humility, and treating other people well are essential. Above all, “what makes you happy and ultimately defines a successful outcome is somethin’ only you can determine.” Anecdotes from Chapman’s own life, including a major business setback and a challenging recovery from a horrific motorcycle crash, underscore key points. More than 50 lively, colorful illustrations by the author’s brother, Eric Chapman, enhance the text. Chapman grounds his principles in his Christian faith without insisting that readers share it. Many of his messages are repeated, because, in the author’s view, “That is how you learn. You gotta hear it over and over and over again.” He also pitches an intention-setting “Ozark Experience” retreat several times and refers readers to the book’s companion website. Though most of Chapman’s messages are familiar, they have rarely, if ever, been delivered with such refreshing bluntness. Humorous, self-deprecating, and (despite plentiful references to ass-whoopin’) compassionate, his take on self-help might be just the kick in the pants some readers need.