Living in the Middle. A. Robert Allen. 2019. 247 pages. [Source: ARC provided courtesy of author.] There’s no greater challenge than finding the balance between how you see yourself and how others see you. Living in the Middle effectively conveys the notion of identity being fluid and the impact of external forces. I found the opening chapter to be confusing and difficult to understand prior to the introduction of Jimmy, which made it challenging to get into the book. The historical accuracy of the book throughout is phenomenal, but was presented in a rudimentary manner which makes it better suited for those without extensive knowledge or familiarity with/on the Tulsa Race Riots. Overall, I appreciated this book more for its historical relevance then for its novel components – the romantic relationship between Mercy and Jimmy was irrelevant, as were the Grimes/Glax interactions. I often found the dialogues to be strained and unbelievable. Sadly, the parts I loved most were the parts that were the quickest to read, leaving me hungry for more. The build up to the actual insurgence, the day of, and the immediate aftermath could’ve easily been more than half of the book. Three stars for Living in…

No review, this time, sorry. Instead, I’m shining the spotlight on a book I am highly anticipating — The Pretty One: On Life, Pop Culture, Disability, and Other Reasons to Fall in Love with Me by Keah Brown. It’s set for a late summer release, and I can’t wait to get my hands on it. In full transparency, I didn’t know who Keah Brown was before 3 days ago, when I saw it featured in a catalog of upcoming releases. But I stopped at this cover. Why? Because it’s rare that I see a book representing Black women’s joy. There she is on the cover of her book exuding what looks like carefree bliss. Then, when I read the subtitle and saw it focused on a Black woman with a disability? I knew there would be no question that I’d be reading her book. Why? I am a Black woman with a disease that severely limits my mobility. It is apparent as soon as I walk into a room, so I move through the world as a Black, disabled woman. This perspective is rarely represented in media, and it is becoming a more salient aspect of my own identity as…

Odd One Out. Nic Stone. 2018. Crown Books for Young Readers. 320 pages. [Source: Public library.] I intentionally started Nic Stone’s latest without reading about it. I didn’t read reviews, I didn’t even read the synopsis on the jacket. Like Angie Thomas, she is an author whose books I will read without a prior question. I am grateful I came into this book with no preconcieved notions, no expectations for content, no “clues” about the characters and the story ahead of them. It made reading Odd One Out that much more of an experience of openness that I relished. Odd One Out is, on its surface, a story of three teen friends. Courtney is a star basketball player who joined the cheerleading team in the off-season. His best-friend, Jupiter, is his self-assured next-door neighbor. Their friendship extends beyond themselves, and is a kinship shared by Courtney’s widowed mother and Jupiter’s gay fathers. Rae, a newcomer to their town and the daughter of his mom’s coworker, finds an immediate connection with Jupiter, much to Courtney’s chagrin. The story, however, is about much more than new and old friendships. Through the trio, Stone explores how youth grapple with understanding their sexual identities…

He’s Just a Friend. J. Nichole. 2019. Not the Last Page. [Source: Kindle Unlimited.] I’m a sucker for a good buddies-turned-bae romance, and He’s Just a Friend is exactly that. Brooklyn and Josiah have been thick as thieves since they were kids. They’ve held each other down through the good and the bad, but have never taken it any further. They’ve batted away the usual comments about them really wanting to be together, but that changes when they both find themselves single at the same time. For her part, Brooklyn is still pining away for Marcus, who broke up with her out of the blue. She’s convinced that at any moment, he’ll call and be ready to jump back in with her for good. Josiah, however, is a barely willing participant in his new relationship with Alana, whose high-maintenance ways are a constant source of annoyance. Brooklyn and Josiah, however, have an obviously comfortable rapport that demonstrates their care for each other; it seems obvious to literally everyone except them. With this book, I felt that the author made it easy to love Josiah. He’s a genuinely good guy who wants to keep the people around him happy and cared…

White Like Her. Gail Lukasik. 2017. Skyhorse Publishing. 316 pages. [Source: personal copy.] We all think we know who we are. We all believe what our parents tell us about our families. Sometimes what they don’t tell us is the real story. On its surface, White Like Her is one woman’s dogged journey* to learn about her family’s history. What sets it apart is that Gail Lukasik’s journey is predicated on sifting through the secrecy that shrouded much of her mother’s life, ultimately disrupting the narrative of Lukasik and her family’s whiteness.  You see, Alvera Frederic passed as white for most of her adult life, but spent her formative years in a black family. Born in New Orleans, she straddled the line of “blackness,” until she reinvented herself in Ohio, marrying a white man and starting a family, while leaving her own behind. Much of this book follows, step by step, Lukasik’s uncovering of her mother’s true racial identity, pieced together as a result of a census record and an appearance on PBS’ Genealogy Roadshow.  What I like most about this book is that it serves as a primer, of sorts, for those unfamiliar with key tools of the genealogy…