Monono is a heart-shaped crayon whose colorful swirls incorporate the full spectrum of the rainbow. Being of a different shape from the other crayons (“Monono is one of a kind”), Monono is stored on the far side of the classroom’s art shelf and is regularly overlooked by the students. Worse, Monono is shunned by the other, conventional crayons, all of whom have their established niches. Monono’s colors start to drain away, leeched by loneliness and sorrow. Then, a new student arrives in class: a dark-skinned girl named Chiro. Chiro, like Monono, is a loner without a group…until they’re paired by default and Chiro starts drawing marvelous rainbow pictures. Suddenly, Monono is in demand, and both Chiro and Monono find themselves noticed by their peers. Bailey narrates Monono’s story in straightforward, non-rhyming prose, presented in an easily legible, faux-handwritten font upon speckled-blue backdrops reflective of Monono’s growing sadness. Marlon’s digital illustrations capture the bright bustle of a racially diverse school classroom and present a carefree existence for the crayons (the exclusion of Chiro and Monono are attributed more to their newness/otherness and an unthinking insularity than to actively malicious intent). The book ends with a discussion guide to promote empathy and connection.

A woman is drawn into a disagreement with a stranger over the stigma of narcissism. A man grows threatened by his neighbor’s newly raised Gadsden flag—the kind that says “Don’t Tread on Me”—and decides to confront him. A couple enacts a scheme to prevent a man from parking his truck in front of their house. These are some premises of Pourciau’s fourth collection of short stories, mostly depicting the first-person perspectives of aggrieved, suspicious, emotionally isolated people obsessing over others’ hidden thoughts. Pourciau’s oeuvre focuses almost exclusively on minor disruptions to our daily routines that have the potential to drive us mad. The longest story—one of the best and most complete entries, “Invade”—describes a woman incessantly pestering her new neighbors for an invitation to help them redecorate, eliciting increasingly curt and hostile evasions. Averaging around four pages each, most of the entries are incredibly slight and largely absent of closure, suspending readers in emotional purgatory. Trying to read just one at a time has the addictively insubstantial effect of eating a single potato chip. But beware: Attempting to ease the irresolution by binging a bunch in quick succession can be downright nauseating from ingesting such unrelenting paranoia. Steeping oneself in Pourciau’s world of lunatic anxiety and claustrophobic discourtesy can be overwhelming, but the cumulative impact is hard to dismiss—and the familiarity of the situations he explores is a sign of the times. One character summarizes a core truth connecting the vignettes: “Society is based on the premise that we remain civil and make the best of our proximity to others.” And another adds a corollary: “Liberating suppressed thoughts can stress the veneer that holds us together.”

Four families have been locked in a “life-and-death struggle” with numerous outside enemies for centuries. To uncover the origins of that bond, high schooler Kat, a Langley heir, puts together a powerful spell. She and several friends, including at least one ancestor from the other three families (Kingsley, Radcliffe, and Mallory), use magical mirrors to travel to their ancestral homes and gather the spell’s ingredients. Their enemies, which include “dark warlocks,” target each set of travelers and one individual’s fate is thrown into question. Later, Kat casts the spell, which sends her and three allies to 1591 England and into the bodies of their ancestors. They arrive just as six families are planning their centennial renewal of the sinister Dark One’s seal. However, Kat, who’s currently inhabiting the body of Lorelei Langley, soon learns of a plan to weaken that seal and allow a terrifying evil to escape. Tansley, following up The Girl Who Loved Ghosts (2019), packs this series entry with supernatural elements, including the eponymous ghosts, scene-stealing telepathic gargoyles, and, of course, time travel, which Kat attempts without the magical-mirror portals. The novel’s first half, with the search for ingredients breaking the cast up in various locales, moves at a sluggish pace, mostly due to relentless nods to earlier installments, which also involved travel into the past. However, the story picks up when it centers on Kat and Lorelei; the author skillfully tackles their dual personalities, as it’s clear when Kat is checking in with her friends (such as romantic interest Evan in Ian Kingsley’s body) and when Lorelei, who’s unaware of Kat’s presence, takes the reins. The final act, while exciting, is more invested in setting up another sequel than in providing a firm resolution.

Hiding under brambles in a cold, dark forest at night, the lamb Nora huddles in fear of grotesque, howling wolves. Meanwhile, in the calm, joyous light of day, Nathaniel, another lamb (who bears a pink paw-print on his fleece), walks protected in the footsteps of a gently authoritarian lion who is graced with capitalized pronouns and explicitly identified in the book’s endnotes as a representative of Jesus Christ. Nathaniel tells Nora of the lion and invites her to be saved by him. Nora enters the daylight, and is seen now carrying a pink paw-print of her own. However, doubts about her own worth soon assail her, and she runs away back to the dark forest. As the wolves close in, Nathaniel and the lion come to her rescue. While Nathaniel whispers reassurances to Nora, the lion fights off the wolves. Hyslop writes in verse, offering a consistent rhythm and mostly unforced rhymes (“You have value, and you’re worthy of this love you’ve just been shown. / We will fight for you whenever you are scared and all alone”). For readers with a Christian upbringing, the story’s imagery should prove easy to unpack and relatable to their own lives—such associations are further encouraged by the author’s endnotes and learning activity “reflections.” That said, the tale doesn’t really stand on its own narrative merits; references to the “lies” that occupy Nora’s thoughts, and her decision to leave Nathaniel and the lion to resume being hunted by the wolves, have no grounding in a literal telling. The book is rendered visually resplendent, across 11 double-page spreads, by Jasiński’s rich digital illustrations—most notably in the slit-eyed, fanged wolves, the dark uncertainties of the forest, and the soft-hued, crystalline trees and exquisite golden haze of the grasslands where the lion rules. While the lion and the two lambs might initially draw the reader’s attention, the stunning backdrops truly bring the tale to life.

It is the summer of 2020. Twelve Americans arrive at a mansion in the Hamptons. Everyone has been in lockdown for months due to Covid-19, but now they are free to interact with others. The plan is for “two weeks of eating, activities, and dating in a secure environment,” though the main draw will be storytelling. The guests come from different political, economic, and racial backgrounds, and each is to tell a story to the others about the impact of Covid-19. The group has been assembled by a wealthy man named Olive Mixer. (While the scenario may seem like the premise of a reality TV show, Mixer insists that the goings-on are not being recorded.) In this first installment of a series, six of the participants have their turns to say their pieces. These range from a nurse named Andrea who talks about “how ordinary people who work essential jobs stood up to this horrendous virus” to a part-time handyman named Ricard who doesn’t quite trust Freemasons. In between the stories there is socializing, games, and even a shark attack (not to mention large and varied meals). Food is mentioned quite a lot throughout the book—one character tells of a dinner in Montana that included “trout, pinto bean, and ham soup with fry bread, chillicothe, sirloin mutton” as well as “a dessert called kuchen, a cross between cake and pie filled with, in this case, flathead cherries.” Details like these culinary lists do not exactly leap from the page; what proves to be more impactful are the reflections of the guests, which do indeed run a gamut. Ricard, for instance, offends just about everyone present with his story, causing most to sit in “silent disdain” as they listen to him speak. The fictional characters’ sentiments are carefully crafted, offering an intriguing range of realistic reactions to the Covid-19 pandemic.