Reviews
"With unmatched lyrical writing and a powerful plot, McBride is an absolute must-read author."-- Buzzfeed "Recommended. McBride writes Moth's narration in spare, wistful free verse that reads like Francesca Lia Block in poetry or a fragile, emotional E. E. Cummings; Moth's pain at being "the guilty girl who lived" is keen and haunting, and the frequent evocation of her grandfather, a spiritual rootworker, adds a supernatural flavor. ... Readers may not see the poignant final twist coming, but it's a satisfying climactic development that will leave them dabbing their eyes and turning to their own art in hope and gratitude. A note further explains the history of hoodoo and rootwork." -- Bulletin of the Center for Children's Books (BCCB), FINALIST FOR THE 2021 NATIONAL BOOK AWARD FOR YOUNG PEOPLE'S LITERATURE A BookPage Best Book of 2021 A Best Book of 2021, Shelf Awareness An NPR Best Book of the Year, 2021 A School Library Journal Best Book of 2021 "This searing debut novel-in-verse is told from the perspective of Moth, a Black teen whose life changed forever the day a car crash killed her family. ... Each free verse poem is tightly composed, leading into the next for a poignant and richly layered narrative. The story builds softly and subtly to a perfect, bittersweet ending. Fans of Jacqueline Woodson won't be able to put this one down."-- School Library Journal, starred review "McBride artfully weaves Black Southern Hoodoo traditions with those of the Navajo/Diné people, creating a beautiful and cross-cultural reverence for the earth, its inhabitants, and our ancestors. ... Written in verse, this novel is hauntingly romantic, refusing to be rushed or put down without deep contemplation of what it means to accept the tragedies of our lives and to reckon with the ways we metamorphosize as a result of them ." -- Booklist, starred review "If you think you know where this story is going, think again. Me (Moth) will surprise you." -- BookPage, starred review "Written in gorgeous verse, Moth's painful story of heartbreak, connection, and learning to love again unfolds, thanks to a soul connection with cool guy Sani."-- Girls Life Magazine "With unmatched lyrical writing and a powerful plot, McBride is an absolute must-read author."-- Buzzfeed "Two years after a devastating car accident killed her family as they drove from New York to northern Virginia, aspiring dancer Moth, the Black granddaughter of a Hoodoo root worker, is still navigating the accident's fallout... When a new student--talented Navajo musician Sani--shows up in her junior homeroom class, Moth finds a kindred spirit whose similarly painful past and physically abusive stepfather compound his depression." -- Publishers Weekly "Recommended. McBride writes Moth's narration in spare, wistful free verse that reads like Francesca Lia Block in poetry or a fragile, emotional E. E. Cummings; Moth's pain at being "the guilty girl who lived" is keen and haunting, and the frequent evocation of her grandfather, a spiritual rootworker, adds a supernatural flavor. ... Readers may not see the poignant final twist coming, but it's a satisfying climactic development that will leave them dabbing their eyes and turning to their own art in hope and gratitude. " -- Bulletin of the Center for Children's Books (BCCB) "Me (Moth) holds you like a gentle haint, pulling you in and out of song, and dance, and dreams until you are not sure where reality ends and memory begins. Amber McBride in her young adult debut has written a marvelous novel in verse full of ancestor wisdom and love that traverses crossroads that we must navigate to live. "--Joanne V. Gabbin, Director, Furious Flower Poetry Center, "This searing debut novel-in-verse is told from the perspective of Moth, a Black teen whose life changed forever the day a car crash killed her family. ... Each free verse poem is tightly composed, leading into the next for a poignant and richly layered narrative. The story builds softly and subtly to a perfect, bittersweet ending. Fans of Jacqueline Woodson won't be able to put this one down."-- School Library Journal, starred review "McBride artfully weaves Black Southern Hoodoo traditions with those of the Navajo/Diné people, creating a beautiful and cross-cultural reverence for the earth, its inhabitants, and our ancestors. Readers will be consumed with the weight of McBride's intentionality from road trip stops to the nuance of everything that goes unsaid. Written in verse, this novel is hauntingly romantic, refusing to be rushed or put down without deep contemplation of what it means to accept the tragedies of our lives and to reckon with the ways we metamorphosize as a result of them ." -- Booklist, starred review "If you think you know where this story is going, think again. Me (Moth) will surprise you." -- BookPage, starred review "Written in gorgeous verse, Moth's painful story of heartbreak, connection, and learning to love again unfolds, thanks to a soul connection with cool guy Sani."-- Girls Life Magazine "With unmatched lyrical writing and a powerful plot, McBride is an absolute must-read author."-- Buzzfeed "Two years after a devastating car accident killed her family as they drove from New York to northern Virginia, aspiring dancer Moth, the Black granddaughter of a Hoodoo root worker, is still navigating the accident's fallout, which includes a mark on her face "as crisp as the tip of a whip from jaw to eye." Poignant free verse details her resignation to a "bland" existence in the suburbs....When a new student--talented Navajo musician Sani--shows up in her junior homeroom class, Moth finds a kindred spirit whose similarly painful past and physically abusive stepfather compound his depression. Desperate for a change, Moth and Sani embark on a road trip out west to the Navajo Nation, where Sani's biological father lives." -- Publishers Weekly "Recommended. McBride writes Moth's narration in spare, wistful free verse that reads like Francesca Lia Block in poetry or a fragile, emotional E. E. Cummings; Moth's pain at being "the guilty girl who lived" is keen and haunting, and the frequent evocation of her grandfather, a spiritual rootworker, adds a supernatural flavor. ... Readers may not see the poignant final twist coming, but it's a satisfying climactic development that will leave them dabbing their eyes and turning to their own art in hope and gratitude. " -- Bulletin of the Center for Children's Books (BCCB), FINALIST FOR THE 2021 NATIONAL BOOK AWARD FOR YOUNG PEOPLE'S LITERATURE A BookPage Best Book of 2021 "This searing debut novel-in-verse is told from the perspective of Moth, a Black teen whose life changed forever the day a car crash killed her family. ... Each free verse poem is tightly composed, leading into the next for a poignant and richly layered narrative. The story builds softly and subtly to a perfect, bittersweet ending. Fans of Jacqueline Woodson won't be able to put this one down."-- School Library Journal, starred review "McBride artfully weaves Black Southern Hoodoo traditions with those of the Navajo/Diné people, creating a beautiful and cross-cultural reverence for the earth, its inhabitants, and our ancestors. ... Written in verse, this novel is hauntingly romantic, refusing to be rushed or put down without deep contemplation of what it means to accept the tragedies of our lives and to reckon with the ways we metamorphosize as a result of them ." -- Booklist, starred review "If you think you know where this story is going, think again. Me (Moth) will surprise you." -- BookPage, starred review "Written in gorgeous verse, Moth's painful story of heartbreak, connection, and learning to love again unfolds, thanks to a soul connection with cool guy Sani."-- Girls Life Magazine "With unmatched lyrical writing and a powerful plot, McBride is an absolute must-read author."-- Buzzfeed "Two years after a devastating car accident killed her family as they drove from New York to northern Virginia, aspiring dancer Moth, the Black granddaughter of a Hoodoo root worker, is still navigating the accident's fallout... When a new student--talented Navajo musician Sani--shows up in her junior homeroom class, Moth finds a kindred spirit whose similarly painful past and physically abusive stepfather compound his depression." -- Publishers Weekly "Recommended. McBride writes Moth's narration in spare, wistful free verse that reads like Francesca Lia Block in poetry or a fragile, emotional E. E. Cummings; Moth's pain at being "the guilty girl who lived" is keen and haunting, and the frequent evocation of her grandfather, a spiritual rootworker, adds a supernatural flavor. ... Readers may not see the poignant final twist coming, but it's a satisfying climactic development that will leave them dabbing their eyes and turning to their own art in hope and gratitude. " -- Bulletin of the Center for Children's Books (BCCB) "Me (Moth) holds you like a gentle haint, pulling you in and out of song, and dance, and dreams until you are not sure where reality ends and memory begins. Amber McBride in her young adult debut has written a marvelous novel in verse full of ancestor wisdom and love that traverses crossroads that we must navigate to live. "--Joanne V. Gabbin, Director, Furious Flower Poetry Center, FINALIST FOR THE 2021 NATIONAL BOOK AWARD FOR YOUNG PEOPLE'S LITERATURE 2022 Coretta Scott King John Steptoe Award for New Talent Winner A 2022 Willam C. Morris YA Debut Award Finalist A BookPage Best Book of 2021 A Best Book of 2021, Shelf Awareness An NPR Best Book of the Year, 2021 A School Library Journal Best Book of 2021 A Time Magazine Best Children's Book of 2021 People magazine's Best Children's Books of 2021 "This searing debut novel-in-verse is told from the perspective of Moth, a Black teen whose life changed forever the day a car crash killed her family. ... Each free verse poem is tightly composed, leading into the next for a poignant and richly layered narrative. The story builds softly and subtly to a perfect, bittersweet ending. Fans of Jacqueline Woodson won't be able to put this one down."-- School Library Journal, starred review "McBride artfully weaves Black Southern Hoodoo traditions with those of the Navajo/Diné people, creating a beautiful and cross-cultural reverence for the earth, its inhabitants, and our ancestors. ... Written in verse, this novel is hauntingly romantic, refusing to be rushed or put down without deep contemplation of what it means to accept the tragedies of our lives and to reckon with the ways we metamorphosize as a result of them ." -- Booklist, starred review "If you think you know where this story is going, think again. Me (Moth) will surprise you." -- BookPage, starred review "Written in gorgeous verse, Moth's painful story of heartbreak, connection, and learning to love again unfolds, thanks to a soul connection with cool guy Sani."-- Girls Life Magazine "With unmatched lyrical writing and a powerful plot, McBride is an absolute must-read author."-- Buzzfeed "Two years after a devastating car accident killed her family as they drove from New York to northern Virginia, aspiring dancer Moth, the Black granddaughter of a Hoodoo root worker, is still navigating the accident's fallout... When a new student--talented Navajo musician Sani--shows up in her junior homeroom class, Moth finds a kindred spirit whose similarly painful past and physically abusive stepfather compound his depression." -- Publishers Weekly "Recommended. McBride writes Moth's narration in spare, wistful free verse that reads like Francesca Lia Block in poetry or a fragile, emotional E. E. Cummings; Moth's pain at being "the guilty girl who lived" is keen and haunting, and the frequent evocation of her grandfather, a spiritual rootworker, adds a supernatural flavor. ... Readers may not see the poignant final twist coming, but it's a satisfying climactic development that will leave them dabbing their eyes and turning to their own art in hope and gratitude. " -- Bulletin of the Center for Children's Books (BCCB) "Me (Moth) holds you like a gentle haint, pulling you in and out of song, and dance, and dreams until you are not sure where reality ends and memory begins. Amber McBride in her young adult debut has written a marvelous novel in verse full of ancestor wisdom and love that traverses crossroads that we must navigate to live. "--Joanne V. Gabbin, Director, Furious Flower Poetry Center, "This searing debut novel-in-verse is told from the perspective of Moth, a Black teen whose life changed forever the day a car crash killed her family. ... Each free verse poem is tightly composed, leading into the next for a poignant and richly layered narrative. The story builds softly and subtly to a perfect, bittersweet ending. Fans of Jacqueline Woodson won't be able to put this one down."-- School Library Journal, starred review "McBride artfully weaves Black Southern Hoodoo traditions with those of the Navajo/Diné people, creating a beautiful and cross-cultural reverence for the earth, its inhabitants, and our ancestors. Readers will be consumed with the weight of McBride's intentionality from road trip stops to the nuance of everything that goes unsaid. Written in verse, this novel is hauntingly romantic, refusing to be rushed or put down without deep contemplation of what it means to accept the tragedies of our lives and to reckon with the ways we metamorphosize as a result of them ." -- Booklist, starred review "If you think you know where this story is going, think again. Me (Moth) will surprise you." -- BookPage, starred review "With unmatched lyrical writing and a powerful plot, McBride is an absolute must-read author."-- Buzzfeed "Two years after a devastating car accident killed her family as they drove from New York to northern Virginia, aspiring dancer Moth, the Black granddaughter of a Hoodoo root worker, is still navigating the accident's fallout, which includes a mark on her face "as crisp as the tip of a whip from jaw to eye." Poignant free verse details her resignation to a "bland" existence in the suburbs....When a new student--talented Navajo musician Sani--shows up in her junior homeroom class, Moth finds a kindred spirit whose similarly painful past and physically abusive stepfather compound his depression. Desperate for a change, Moth and Sani embark on a road trip out west to the Navajo Nation, where Sani's biological father lives." -- Publishers Weekly "Recommended. McBride writes Moth's narration in spare, wistful free verse that reads like Francesca Lia Block in poetry or a fragile, emotional E. E. Cummings; Moth's pain at being "the guilty girl who lived" is keen and haunting, and the frequent evocation of her grandfather, a spiritual rootworker, adds a supernatural flavor. ... Readers may not see the poignant final twist coming, but it's a satisfying climactic development that will leave them dabbing their eyes and turning to their own art in hope and gratitude. " -- Bulletin of the Center for Children's Books (BCCB), "McBride artfully weaves Black Southern Hoodoo traditions with those of the Navajo/Diné people, creating a beautiful and cross-cultural reverence for the earth, its inhabitants, and our ancestors. Readers will be consumed with the weight of McBride's intentionality from road trip stops to the nuance of everything that goes unsaid. Written in verse, this novel is hauntingly romantic, refusing to be rushed or put down without deep contemplation of what it means to accept the tragedies of our lives and to reckon with the ways we metamorphosize as a result of them. An excellent choice for lovers of poetry and for those who see the beauty in sadness." -- Booklist, starred review "With unmatched lyrical writing and a powerful plot, McBride is an absolute must-read author."-- Buzzfeed "Two years after a devastating car accident killed her family as they drove from New York to northern Virginia, aspiring dancer Moth, the Black granddaughter of a Hoodoo root worker, is still navigating the accident's fallout, which includes a mark on her face "as crisp as the tip of a whip from jaw to eye." Poignant free verse details her resignation to a "bland" existence in the suburbs....When a new student--talented Navajo musician Sani--shows up in her junior homeroom class, Moth finds a kindred spirit whose similarly painful past and physically abusive stepfather compound his depression. Desperate for a change, Moth and Sani embark on a road trip out west to the Navajo Nation, where Sani's biological father lives. As the two travel, visiting national landmarks that connect them to the ghosts of their ancestors, a tender love story unfolds, one that debut author McBride skillfully renders while covering serious topics such as grief and mental health, including suicidal ideation. " -- Publishers Weekly "Recommended. McBride writes Moth's narration in spare, wistful free verse that reads like Francesca Lia Block in poetry or a fragile, emotional E. E. Cummings; Moth's pain at being "the guilty girl who lived" is keen and haunting, and the frequent evocation of her grandfather, a spiritual rootworker, adds a supernatural flavor. ... Readers may not see the poignant final twist coming, but it's a satisfying climactic development that will leave them dabbing their eyes and turning to their own art in hope and gratitude. A note further explains the history of hoodoo and rootwork." -- Bulletin of the Center for Children's Books (BCCB), "McBride artfully weaves Black Southern Hoodoo traditions with those of the Navajo/Diné people, creating a beautiful and cross-cultural reverence for the earth, its inhabitants, and our ancestors. Readers will be consumed with the weight of McBride's intentionality from road trip stops to the nuance of everything that goes unsaid. Written in verse, this novel is hauntingly romantic, refusing to be rushed or put down without deep contemplation of what it means to accept the tragedies of our lives and to reckon with the ways we metamorphosize as a result of them ." -- Booklist, starred review "With unmatched lyrical writing and a powerful plot, McBride is an absolute must-read author."-- Buzzfeed "Two years after a devastating car accident killed her family as they drove from New York to northern Virginia, aspiring dancer Moth, the Black granddaughter of a Hoodoo root worker, is still navigating the accident's fallout, which includes a mark on her face "as crisp as the tip of a whip from jaw to eye." Poignant free verse details her resignation to a "bland" existence in the suburbs....When a new student--talented Navajo musician Sani--shows up in her junior homeroom class, Moth finds a kindred spirit whose similarly painful past and physically abusive stepfather compound his depression. Desperate for a change, Moth and Sani embark on a road trip out west to the Navajo Nation, where Sani's biological father lives." -- Publishers Weekly "Recommended. McBride writes Moth's narration in spare, wistful free verse that reads like Francesca Lia Block in poetry or a fragile, emotional E. E. Cummings; Moth's pain at being "the guilty girl who lived" is keen and haunting, and the frequent evocation of her grandfather, a spiritual rootworker, adds a supernatural flavor. ... Readers may not see the poignant final twist coming, but it's a satisfying climactic development that will leave them dabbing their eyes and turning to their own art in hope and gratitude. " -- Bulletin of the Center for Children's Books (BCCB), "This searing debut novel-in-verse is told from the perspective of Moth, a Black teen whose life changed forever the day a car crash killed her family. ... Each free verse poem is tightly composed, leading into the next for a poignant and richly layered narrative. The story builds softly and subtly to a perfect, bittersweet ending. Fans of Jacqueline Woodson won't be able to put this one down."-- School Library Journal, starred review "McBride artfully weaves Black Southern Hoodoo traditions with those of the Navajo/Diné people, creating a beautiful and cross-cultural reverence for the earth, its inhabitants, and our ancestors. Readers will be consumed with the weight of McBride's intentionality from road trip stops to the nuance of everything that goes unsaid. Written in verse, this novel is hauntingly romantic, refusing to be rushed or put down without deep contemplation of what it means to accept the tragedies of our lives and to reckon with the ways we metamorphosize as a result of them ." -- Booklist, starred review "If you think you know where this story is going, think again. Me (Moth) will surprise you." -- BookPage, starred review "Written in gorgeous verse, Moth's painful story of heartbreak, connection, and learning to love again unfolds, thanks to a soul connection with cool guy Sani."-- Girls Life Magazine "With unmatched lyrical writing and a powerful plot, McBride is an absolute must-read author."-- Buzzfeed "Two years after a devastating car accident killed her family as they drove from New York to northern Virginia, aspiring dancer Moth, the Black granddaughter of a Hoodoo root worker, is still navigating the accident's fallout, which includes a mark on her face "as crisp as the tip of a whip from jaw to eye." Poignant free verse details her resignation to a "bland" existence in the suburbs....When a new student--talented Navajo musician Sani--shows up in her junior homeroom class, Moth finds a kindred spirit whose similarly painful past and physically abusive stepfather compound his depression." -- Publishers Weekly "Recommended. McBride writes Moth's narration in spare, wistful free verse that reads like Francesca Lia Block in poetry or a fragile, emotional E. E. Cummings; Moth's pain at being "the guilty girl who lived" is keen and haunting, and the frequent evocation of her grandfather, a spiritual rootworker, adds a supernatural flavor. ... Readers may not see the poignant final twist coming, but it's a satisfying climactic development that will leave them dabbing their eyes and turning to their own art in hope and gratitude. " -- Bulletin of the Center for Children's Books (BCCB) "Me (Moth) holds you like a gentle haint, pulling you in and out of song, and dance, and dreams until you are not sure where reality ends and memory begins. Amber McBride in her young adult debut has written a marvelous novel in verse full of ancestor wisdom and love that traverses crossroads that we must navigate to live. "--Joanne V. Gabbin, Director, Furious Flower Poetry Center, FINALIST FOR THE 2021 NATIONAL BOOK AWARD FOR YOUNG PEOPLE'S LITERATURE "This searing debut novel-in-verse is told from the perspective of Moth, a Black teen whose life changed forever the day a car crash killed her family. ... Each free verse poem is tightly composed, leading into the next for a poignant and richly layered narrative. The story builds softly and subtly to a perfect, bittersweet ending. Fans of Jacqueline Woodson won't be able to put this one down."-- School Library Journal, starred review "McBride artfully weaves Black Southern Hoodoo traditions with those of the Navajo/Diné people, creating a beautiful and cross-cultural reverence for the earth, its inhabitants, and our ancestors. ... Written in verse, this novel is hauntingly romantic, refusing to be rushed or put down without deep contemplation of what it means to accept the tragedies of our lives and to reckon with the ways we metamorphosize as a result of them ." -- Booklist, starred review "If you think you know where this story is going, think again. Me (Moth) will surprise you." -- BookPage, starred review "Written in gorgeous verse, Moth's painful story of heartbreak, connection, and learning to love again unfolds, thanks to a soul connection with cool guy Sani."-- Girls Life Magazine "With unmatched lyrical writing and a powerful plot, McBride is an absolute must-read author."-- Buzzfeed "Two years after a devastating car accident killed her family as they drove from New York to northern Virginia, aspiring dancer Moth, the Black granddaughter of a Hoodoo root worker, is still navigating the accident's fallout... When a new student--talented Navajo musician Sani--shows up in her junior homeroom class, Moth finds a kindred spirit whose similarly painful past and physically abusive stepfather compound his depression." -- Publishers Weekly "Recommended. McBride writes Moth's narration in spare, wistful free verse that reads like Francesca Lia Block in poetry or a fragile, emotional E. E. Cummings; Moth's pain at being "the guilty girl who lived" is keen and haunting, and the frequent evocation of her grandfather, a spiritual rootworker, adds a supernatural flavor. ... Readers may not see the poignant final twist coming, but it's a satisfying climactic development that will leave them dabbing their eyes and turning to their own art in hope and gratitude. " -- Bulletin of the Center for Children's Books (BCCB) "Me (Moth) holds you like a gentle haint, pulling you in and out of song, and dance, and dreams until you are not sure where reality ends and memory begins. Amber McBride in her young adult debut has written a marvelous novel in verse full of ancestor wisdom and love that traverses crossroads that we must navigate to live. "--Joanne V. Gabbin, Director, Furious Flower Poetry Center, "With unmatched lyrical writing and a powerful plot, McBride is an absolute must-read author."-- Buzzfeed "Two years after a devastating car accident killed her family as they drove from New York to northern Virginia, aspiring dancer Moth, the Black granddaughter of a Hoodoo root worker, is still navigating the accident's fallout, which includes a mark on her face "as crisp as the tip of a whip from jaw to eye." Poignant free verse details her resignation to a "bland" existence in the suburbs....When a new student--talented Navajo musician Sani--shows up in her junior homeroom class, Moth finds a kindred spirit whose similarly painful past and physically abusive stepfather compound his depression. Desperate for a change, Moth and Sani embark on a road trip out west to the Navajo Nation, where Sani's biological father lives. As the two travel, visiting national landmarks that connect them to the ghosts of their ancestors, a tender love story unfolds, one that debut author McBride skillfully renders while covering serious topics such as grief and mental health, including suicidal ideation. " -- Publishers Weekly "Recommended. McBride writes Moth's narration in spare, wistful free verse that reads like Francesca Lia Block in poetry or a fragile, emotional E. E. Cummings; Moth's pain at being "the guilty girl who lived" is keen and haunting, and the frequent evocation of her grandfather, a spiritual rootworker, adds a supernatural flavor. ... Readers may not see the poignant final twist coming, but it's a satisfying climactic development that will leave them dabbing their eyes and turning to their own art in hope and gratitude. A note further explains the history of hoodoo and rootwork." -- Bulletin of the Center for Children's Books (BCCB), "This searing debut novel-in-verse is told from the perspective of Moth, a Black teen whose life changed forever the day a car crash killed her family. ... Each free verse poem is tightly composed, leading into the next for a poignant and richly layered narrative. The story builds softly and subtly to a perfect, bittersweet ending. Fans of Jacqueline Woodson won't be able to put this one down."-- School Library Journal, starred review "McBride artfully weaves Black Southern Hoodoo traditions with those of the Navajo/Diné people, creating a beautiful and cross-cultural reverence for the earth, its inhabitants, and our ancestors. ... Written in verse, this novel is hauntingly romantic, refusing to be rushed or put down without deep contemplation of what it means to accept the tragedies of our lives and to reckon with the ways we metamorphosize as a result of them ." -- Booklist, starred review "If you think you know where this story is going, think again. Me (Moth) will surprise you." -- BookPage, starred review "Written in gorgeous verse, Moth's painful story of heartbreak, connection, and learning to love again unfolds, thanks to a soul connection with cool guy Sani."-- Girls Life Magazine "With unmatched lyrical writing and a powerful plot, McBride is an absolute must-read author."-- Buzzfeed "Two years after a devastating car accident killed her family as they drove from New York to northern Virginia, aspiring dancer Moth, the Black granddaughter of a Hoodoo root worker, is still navigating the accident's fallout... When a new student--talented Navajo musician Sani--shows up in her junior homeroom class, Moth finds a kindred spirit whose similarly painful past and physically abusive stepfather compound his depression." -- Publishers Weekly "Recommended. McBride writes Moth's narration in spare, wistful free verse that reads like Francesca Lia Block in poetry or a fragile, emotional E. E. Cummings; Moth's pain at being "the guilty girl who lived" is keen and haunting, and the frequent evocation of her grandfather, a spiritual rootworker, adds a supernatural flavor. ... Readers may not see the poignant final twist coming, but it's a satisfying climactic development that will leave them dabbing their eyes and turning to their own art in hope and gratitude. " -- Bulletin of the Center for Children's Books (BCCB) "Me (Moth) holds you like a gentle haint, pulling you in and out of song, and dance, and dreams until you are not sure where reality ends and memory begins. Amber McBride in her young adult debut has written a marvelous novel in verse full of ancestor wisdom and love that traverses crossroads that we must navigate to live. "--Joanne V. Gabbin, Director, Furious Flower Poetry Center, "With unmatched lyrical writing and a powerful plot, McBride is an absolute must-read author."-- Buzzfeed, FINALIST FOR THE 2021 NATIONAL BOOK AWARD FOR YOUNG PEOPLE'S LITERATURE 2022 Coretta Scott King John Steptoe Award for New Talent Winner A 2022 Willam C. Morris YA Debut Award Finalist A BookPage Best Book of 2021 A Best Book of 2021, Shelf Awareness An NPR Best Book of the Year, 2021 A School Library Journal Best Book of 2021 A Time Magazine Best Children's Book of 2021 People magazine's Best Children's Books of 2021 Winner, Richmond (VA) Public Library's 2023 YAVA Award "This searing debut novel-in-verse is told from the perspective of Moth, a Black teen whose life changed forever the day a car crash killed her family. ... Each free verse poem is tightly composed, leading into the next for a poignant and richly layered narrative. The story builds softly and subtly to a perfect, bittersweet ending. Fans of Jacqueline Woodson won't be able to put this one down."-- School Library Journal, starred review "McBride artfully weaves Black Southern Hoodoo traditions with those of the Navajo/Diné people, creating a beautiful and cross-cultural reverence for the earth, its inhabitants, and our ancestors. ... Written in verse, this novel is hauntingly romantic, refusing to be rushed or put down without deep contemplation of what it means to accept the tragedies of our lives and to reckon with the ways we metamorphosize as a result of them ." -- Booklist, starred review "If you think you know where this story is going, think again. Me (Moth) will surprise you." -- BookPage, starred review "Written in gorgeous verse, Moth's painful story of heartbreak, connection, and learning to love again unfolds, thanks to a soul connection with cool guy Sani."-- Girls Life Magazine "With unmatched lyrical writing and a powerful plot, McBride is an absolute must-read author."-- Buzzfeed "Two years after a devastating car accident killed her family as they drove from New York to northern Virginia, aspiring dancer Moth, the Black granddaughter of a Hoodoo root worker, is still navigating the accident's fallout... When a new student--talented Navajo musician Sani--shows up in her junior homeroom class, Moth finds a kindred spirit whose similarly painful past and physically abusive stepfather compound his depression." -- Publishers Weekly "Recommended. McBride writes Moth's narration in spare, wistful free verse that reads like Francesca Lia Block in poetry or a fragile, emotional E. E. Cummings; Moth's pain at being "the guilty girl who lived" is keen and haunting, and the frequent evocation of her grandfather, a spiritual rootworker, adds a supernatural flavor. ... Readers may not see the poignant final twist coming, but it's a satisfying climactic development that will leave them dabbing their eyes and turning to their own art in hope and gratitude. " -- Bulletin of the Center for Children's Books (BCCB) "Me (Moth) holds you like a gentle haint, pulling you in and out of song, and dance, and dreams until you are not sure where reality ends and memory begins. Amber McBride in her young adult debut has written a marvelous novel in verse full of ancestor wisdom and love that traverses crossroads that we must navigate to live. "--Joanne V. Gabbin, Director, Furious Flower Poetry Center, Finalist, 2021 National Book Award "This searing debut novel-in-verse is told from the perspective of Moth, a Black teen whose life changed forever the day a car crash killed her family. ... Each free verse poem is tightly composed, leading into the next for a poignant and richly layered narrative. The story builds softly and subtly to a perfect, bittersweet ending. Fans of Jacqueline Woodson won't be able to put this one down."-- School Library Journal, starred review "McBride artfully weaves Black Southern Hoodoo traditions with those of the Navajo/Diné people, creating a beautiful and cross-cultural reverence for the earth, its inhabitants, and our ancestors. ... Written in verse, this novel is hauntingly romantic, refusing to be rushed or put down without deep contemplation of what it means to accept the tragedies of our lives and to reckon with the ways we metamorphosize as a result of them ." -- Booklist, starred review "If you think you know where this story is going, think again. Me (Moth) will surprise you." -- BookPage, starred review "Written in gorgeous verse, Moth's painful story of heartbreak, connection, and learning to love again unfolds, thanks to a soul connection with cool guy Sani."-- Girls Life Magazine "With unmatched lyrical writing and a powerful plot, McBride is an absolute must-read author."-- Buzzfeed "Two years after a devastating car accident killed her family as they drove from New York to northern Virginia, aspiring dancer Moth, the Black granddaughter of a Hoodoo root worker, is still navigating the accident's fallout... When a new student--talented Navajo musician Sani--shows up in her junior homeroom class, Moth finds a kindred spirit whose similarly painful past and physically abusive stepfather compound his depression." -- Publishers Weekly "Recommended. McBride writes Moth's narration in spare, wistful free verse that reads like Francesca Lia Block in poetry or a fragile, emotional E. E. Cummings; Moth's pain at being "the guilty girl who lived" is keen and haunting, and the frequent evocation of her grandfather, a spiritual rootworker, adds a supernatural flavor. ... Readers may not see the poignant final twist coming, but it's a satisfying climactic development that will leave them dabbing their eyes and turning to their own art in hope and gratitude. " -- Bulletin of the Center for Children's Books (BCCB) "Me (Moth) holds you like a gentle haint, pulling you in and out of song, and dance, and dreams until you are not sure where reality ends and memory begins. Amber McBride in her young adult debut has written a marvelous novel in verse full of ancestor wisdom and love that traverses crossroads that we must navigate to live. "--Joanne V. Gabbin, Director, Furious Flower Poetry Center, "This searing debut novel-in-verse is told from the perspective of Moth, a Black teen whose life changed forever the day a car crash killed her family. ... Each free verse poem is tightly composed, leading into the next for a poignant and richly layered narrative. The story builds softly and subtly to a perfect, bittersweet ending. Fans of Jacqueline Woodson won't be able to put this one down."-- School Library Journal, starred review "McBride artfully weaves Black Southern Hoodoo traditions with those of the Navajo/Diné people, creating a beautiful and cross-cultural reverence for the earth, its inhabitants, and our ancestors. Readers will be consumed with the weight of McBride's intentionality from road trip stops to the nuance of everything that goes unsaid. Written in verse, this novel is hauntingly romantic, refusing to be rushed or put down without deep contemplation of what it means to accept the tragedies of our lives and to reckon with the ways we metamorphosize as a result of them ." -- Booklist, starred review "If you think you know where this story is going, think again. Me (Moth) will surprise you." -- BookPage, starred review "Written in gorgeous verse, Moth's painful story of heartbreak, connection, and learning to love again unfolds, thanks to a soul connection with cool guy Sani."-- Girls Life Magazine "With unmatched lyrical writing and a powerful plot, McBride is an absolute must-read author."-- Buzzfeed "Two years after a devastating car accident killed her family as they drove from New York to northern Virginia, aspiring dancer Moth, the Black granddaughter of a Hoodoo root worker, is still navigating the accident's fallout, which includes a mark on her face "as crisp as the tip of a whip from jaw to eye." Poignant free verse details her resignation to a "bland" existence in the suburbs....When a new student--talented Navajo musician Sani--shows up in her junior homeroom class, Moth finds a kindred spirit whose similarly painful past and physically abusive stepfather compound his depression. Desperate for a change, Moth and Sani embark on a road trip out west to the Navajo Nation, where Sani's biological father lives." -- Publishers Weekly "Recommended. McBride writes Moth's narration in spare, wistful free verse that reads like Francesca Lia Block in poetry or a fragile, emotional E. E. Cummings; Moth's pain at being "the guilty girl who lived" is keen and haunting, and the frequent evocation of her grandfather, a spiritual rootworker, adds a supernatural flavor. ... Readers may not see the poignant final twist coming, but it's a satisfying climactic development that will leave them dabbing their eyes and turning to their own art in hope and gratitude. " -- Bulletin of the Center for Children's Books (BCCB) "Me (Moth) holds you like a gentle haint, pulling you in and out of song, and dance, and dreams until you are not sure where reality ends and memory begins. Amber McBride in her young adult debut has written a marvelous novel in verse full of ancestor wisdom and love that traverses crossroads that we must navigate to live. "--Joanne V. Gabbin, Director, Furious Flower Poetry Center, FINALIST FOR THE 2021 NATIONAL BOOK AWARD FOR YOUNG PEOPLE'S LITERATURE A 2022 Willam C. Morris Award Finalist A BookPage Best Book of 2021 A Best Book of 2021, Shelf Awareness An NPR Best Book of the Year, 2021 A School Library Journal Best Book of 2021 A Time Magazine Best Children's Book of 2021 People magazine's Best Children's Books of 2021 "This searing debut novel-in-verse is told from the perspective of Moth, a Black teen whose life changed forever the day a car crash killed her family. ... Each free verse poem is tightly composed, leading into the next for a poignant and richly layered narrative. The story builds softly and subtly to a perfect, bittersweet ending. Fans of Jacqueline Woodson won't be able to put this one down."-- School Library Journal, starred review "McBride artfully weaves Black Southern Hoodoo traditions with those of the Navajo/Diné people, creating a beautiful and cross-cultural reverence for the earth, its inhabitants, and our ancestors. ... Written in verse, this novel is hauntingly romantic, refusing to be rushed or put down without deep contemplation of what it means to accept the tragedies of our lives and to reckon with the ways we metamorphosize as a result of them ." -- Booklist, starred review "If you think you know where this story is going, think again. Me (Moth) will surprise you." -- BookPage, starred review "Written in gorgeous verse, Moth's painful story of heartbreak, connection, and learning to love again unfolds, thanks to a soul connection with cool guy Sani."-- Girls Life Magazine "With unmatched lyrical writing and a powerful plot, McBride is an absolute must-read author."-- Buzzfeed "Two years after a devastating car accident killed her family as they drove from New York to northern Virginia, aspiring dancer Moth, the Black granddaughter of a Hoodoo root worker, is still navigating the accident's fallout... When a new student--talented Navajo musician Sani--shows up in her junior homeroom class, Moth finds a kindred spirit whose similarly painful past and physically abusive stepfather compound his depression." -- Publishers Weekly "Recommended. McBride writes Moth's narration in spare, wistful free verse that reads like Francesca Lia Block in poetry or a fragile, emotional E. E. Cummings; Moth's pain at being "the guilty girl who lived" is keen and haunting, and the frequent evocation of her grandfather, a spiritual rootworker, adds a supernatural flavor. ... Readers may not see the poignant final twist coming, but it's a satisfying climactic development that will leave them dabbing their eyes and turning to their own art in hope and gratitude. " -- Bulletin of the Center for Children's Books (BCCB) "Me (Moth) holds you like a gentle haint, pulling you in and out of song, and dance, and dreams until you are not sure where reality ends and memory begins. Amber McBride in her young adult debut has written a marvelous novel in verse full of ancestor wisdom and love that traverses crossroads that we must navigate to live. "--Joanne V. Gabbin, Director, Furious Flower Poetry Center, FINALIST FOR THE 2021 NATIONAL BOOK AWARD FOR YOUNG PEOPLE'S LITERATURE A BookPage Best Book of 2021 A Best Book of 2021, Shelf Awareness An NPR Best Book of the Year, 2021 A School Library Journal Best Book of 2021 A Time Magazine Best Children's Book of 2021 "This searing debut novel-in-verse is told from the perspective of Moth, a Black teen whose life changed forever the day a car crash killed her family. ... Each free verse poem is tightly composed, leading into the next for a poignant and richly layered narrative. The story builds softly and subtly to a perfect, bittersweet ending. Fans of Jacqueline Woodson won't be able to put this one down."-- School Library Journal, starred review "McBride artfully weaves Black Southern Hoodoo traditions with those of the Navajo/Diné people, creating a beautiful and cross-cultural reverence for the earth, its inhabitants, and our ancestors. ... Written in verse, this novel is hauntingly romantic, refusing to be rushed or put down without deep contemplation of what it means to accept the tragedies of our lives and to reckon with the ways we metamorphosize as a result of them ." -- Booklist, starred review "If you think you know where this story is going, think again. Me (Moth) will surprise you." -- BookPage, starred review "Written in gorgeous verse, Moth's painful story of heartbreak, connection, and learning to love again unfolds, thanks to a soul connection with cool guy Sani."-- Girls Life Magazine "With unmatched lyrical writing and a powerful plot, McBride is an absolute must-read author."-- Buzzfeed "Two years after a devastating car accident killed her family as they drove from New York to northern Virginia, aspiring dancer Moth, the Black granddaughter of a Hoodoo root worker, is still navigating the accident's fallout... When a new student--talented Navajo musician Sani--shows up in her junior homeroom class, Moth finds a kindred spirit whose similarly painful past and physically abusive stepfather compound his depression." -- Publishers Weekly "Recommended. McBride writes Moth's narration in spare, wistful free verse that reads like Francesca Lia Block in poetry or a fragile, emotional E. E. Cummings; Moth's pain at being "the guilty girl who lived" is keen and haunting, and the frequent evocation of her grandfather, a spiritual rootworker, adds a supernatural flavor. ... Readers may not see the poignant final twist coming, but it's a satisfying climactic development that will leave them dabbing their eyes and turning to their own art in hope and gratitude. " -- Bulletin of the Center for Children's Books (BCCB) "Me (Moth) holds you like a gentle haint, pulling you in and out of song, and dance, and dreams until you are not sure where reality ends and memory begins. Amber McBride in her young adult debut has written a marvelous novel in verse full of ancestor wisdom and love that traverses crossroads that we must navigate to live. "--Joanne V. Gabbin, Director, Furious Flower Poetry Center, "This searing debut novel-in-verse is told from the perspective of Moth, a Black teen whose life changed forever the day a car crash killed her family. ... Each free verse poem is tightly composed, leading into the next for a poignant and richly layered narrative. The story builds softly and subtly to a perfect, bittersweet ending. Fans of Jacqueline Woodson won't be able to put this one down."-- School Library Journal, starred review "McBride artfully weaves Black Southern Hoodoo traditions with those of the Navajo/Diné people, creating a beautiful and cross-cultural reverence for the earth, its inhabitants, and our ancestors. Readers will be consumed with the weight of McBride's intentionality from road trip stops to the nuance of everything that goes unsaid. Written in verse, this novel is hauntingly romantic, refusing to be rushed or put down without deep contemplation of what it means to accept the tragedies of our lives and to reckon with the ways we metamorphosize as a result of them ." -- Booklist, starred review "With unmatched lyrical writing and a powerful plot, McBride is an absolute must-read author."-- Buzzfeed "Two years after a devastating car accident killed her family as they drove from New York to northern Virginia, aspiring dancer Moth, the Black granddaughter of a Hoodoo root worker, is still navigating the accident's fallout, which includes a mark on her face "as crisp as the tip of a whip from jaw to eye." Poignant free verse details her resignation to a "bland" existence in the suburbs....When a new student--talented Navajo musician Sani--shows up in her junior homeroom class, Moth finds a kindred spirit whose similarly painful past and physically abusive stepfather compound his depression. Desperate for a change, Moth and Sani embark on a road trip out west to the Navajo Nation, where Sani's biological father lives." -- Publishers Weekly "Recommended. McBride writes Moth's narration in spare, wistful free verse that reads like Francesca Lia Block in poetry or a fragile, emotional E. E. Cummings; Moth's pain at being "the guilty girl who lived" is keen and haunting, and the frequent evocation of her grandfather, a spiritual rootworker, adds a supernatural flavor. ... Readers may not see the poignant final twist coming, but it's a satisfying climactic development that will leave them dabbing their eyes and turning to their own art in hope and gratitude. " -- Bulletin of the Center for Children's Books (BCCB)
