Battle of the Books, Book 10: A Good Girl’s Guide to Murder

My mom gave me A Good Girl’s Guide to Murder last summer, and I was genuinely excited to read it. But between lesson planning, grading, and last year's Battle of the Book's tower, I just didn't have the time. Fast forward to this summer’s reading challenge, and thanks to the High School Battle of the Books list, I finally had the excuse I needed to dive in.

And wow—was it worth the wait.

I’ve read a few teen detective/cold case thrillers over the past couple of years (it's become a bit of a subgenre), but A Good Girl’s Guide to Murder really stands out. The suspense was tight. The pacing sharp.

At first, I wasn’t sure what to make of Pip, the teen detective at the center of it all. She has no survival instinct when it comes to her suspects. If she finds a reason to suspect you, she’ll ask you point blank— no buffer, just straight-up confrontation. It was a little jarring at first, especially compared to the usual “sneak around and whisper about it later” approach I’ve seen in other YA mysteries. But honestly? It grew on me. Fast.

Because as much as Pip is bold (and sometimes questionably reckless), she’s also smart. She plans. She adapts. She thinks several moves ahead. And she isn’t afraid to admit when she gets it wrong—something I appreciated as both a reader and a teacher who’s watched a lot of teens grow through trial and error.

This one has definite appeal for mystery lovers, true crime podcast fans, and anyone who appreciates a layered, twisty story that sticks the landing. It’s sharp, fast-paced, and just the right amount of chilling.

Battle of the Books, Book 9: The Running Dream

I’m a huge fan of Wendelin Van Draanen’s Sammy Keyes series. It’s funny, sharp, and totally voice-driven—so I don’t say this lightly: I have actively kept The Running Dream off my “someday” list for years.

Why? Honestly? The back cover.

A teen track star loses her leg in an accident, has a life-changing revelation about how she’s treated others, and works hard to become a better person. That was the pitch. And it felt… predictable. Like I could already see the whole arc laid out before page one and it was not appealing.

But then The Running Dream landed on this year’s Middle School Battle of the Books list—and I was "forced" to read it, discovering along the way that the back cover summary was a drastic oversimplification of a layered, honest, and deeply human story.

Yes, Jessica loses her leg. And yes, she has to reimagine her future, although not as much as you might think. But this isn’t a story about magical transformation or redemption arcs wrapped in a neat bow. It’s a story about the hard, messy, beautiful work of growing—physically, emotionally, and socially—after your world is flipped upside down.

The cast of characters around Jessica makes this book shine. Her prosthetist is more than a background figure—he’s a person with depth. His office manager, a below-the-knee amputee herself, brings quiet strength and lived experience to the table. Even Ms. Rucker, the math teacher who tries so hard to keep her personal and professional lives separate, left an impression.

This isn’t a one-note “inspiration story.” It’s real, emotional, sometimes funny, and full of subtle moments that stay with you. It’s about seeing people—really seeing them—and learning how to let yourself be seen, too.

If this one has been lingering on your shelf like it was on mine, consider this your push.


Battle of the Books, Book 8: 15 Secrets to Survival

Going into 15 Secrets to Survival, I was fully expecting a collection of gritty, real-life survival stories. Canoes gone wrong, close encounters with bears, stranded after a plane crash and having to start a fire with wet socks and sheer willpower.

I was wrong.

What I got instead was a moderately-paced, fictional survival-ish story filled with heart, humor, and a dose of tween drama.

The back cover compares it to Hatchet with a teamwork twist—which doesn't entirely miss the target—but this story really holds its own. It feels more current, more chaotic, and a lot more relationship-driven. These kids aren’t fighting to survive in the wilderness—they’re also trying to figure out how to work together, trust each other, and maybe not drive each other completely up the wall in the process.

What makes this one stand out is the balance. There’s real tension, eventually, and high stakes, towards the end of the book, but it’s also funny. And that humor makes it feel more real because even in tough situations, people joke, bicker, and mess up. Especially kids.

By the time I finished, I wasn’t thinking about how it compared to other survival books—I was just glad it existed. It’s accessible, engaging, and perfect for middle school readers who want a survival story that also understands what it’s like to be twelve and figuring out your place in the world (while, you know, maybe trying to not get eaten by wildlife).

Highly recommend having this one on your classroom shelf.

Battle of the Books, Book 7: The Boys in the Boat

 Nonfiction and I have a bit of a rocky relationship. I want to love it—I really do—but more often than not, I find myself zoning out as I read. But Daniel James Brown surprised me—The Boys in the Boat didn’t just tell the story of the 1936 Olympic rowing team. It weaves together the story of the Olympics, the Great Depression, an impending World War and Joe Rantz. Brown moves fluidly between the high-stakes races and Joe's childhood, which was equal parts perseverance and abandonment. Rather than bogging down the pacing, the shifts between past and present actually deepened the emotional impact. Joe’s grit on the water makes so much more sense when you understand what he survived on land.

It’s not flashy. It’s not fast. But it is incredibly human—and that’s what pulled me in. Brown’s writing doesn’t just report facts; it builds a story with tension, warmth, and a quiet reverence for the young men at its center. You find yourself cheering for them long before the Olympic boat even touches the water.

 The Boys in the Boat didn’t just hold my attention; it earned my admiration. It’s a powerful reminder that the best true stories often read like fiction… you just can’t make this stuff up.



My Summer Reading Challenge: Battle of the Books Edition

Every summer since I made the switch to teaching middle and high school, I’ve taken on a surprisingly rewarding challenge: read every single book on both the middle school and high school Alaska Battle of the Books lists before school starts again.

Yes, it’s a lot of reading. Yes, I bring a tower of books with me on every ferry ride and weekend trip. And yes, the Homer Bookstore staff can recognize me on sight. (I regret nothing.)

 

This tradition started as a way to keep up with what my students are reading—and to give me a nudge out of my usual reading comfort zone. Battle of the Books titles are a mix of genres, styles, and perspectives I might not reach for on my own. But every year, I’m reminded how powerful it is to read what my students are reading. It gives me concrete ways to connect with them, recommend books they'll actually enjoy, and build a classroom reading culture that feels fresh and relevant, even when I taught high school math.

Plus, when a student shrugs and says, “I don’t know what to read,” I love being able to slide a book across the table and say, “Try this. I just read it. I think it might be your kind of story.”

So here we go again. Two fresh stacks of books, one determined teacher, and a whole summer to read. Let the reading begin.



Battle of the Books, Book 6: Rez Ball

Rez Ball by Byron Graves was’t just a great read—it’s the kind of book that hit me where I live, a place where the gym lights burn brighter than the streetlights and the whole town shows up on game night.

Set in a small Native American community, Rez Ball captures the intensity of high school basketball culture with razor-sharp precision. The pressure, the pride, the rivalries—it’s all there. But what really stuck with me was how Graves layered that world with unflinching honesty. He doesn’t shy away from the hard stuff: racism, alcoholism, grief, and the weight young people carry when they’re planning their future.

Tre’s journey isn’t tidy. It’s raw, real, and sometimes uncomfortable—but it’s also filled with heart, hope, and a deep love for both family and the game.

Graves nailed that basketball-obsessed town dynamic. The stakes feel impossibly high when the whole town is watching, and this book captures that tension in a way that’s totally relatable—even if you’ve never worn a jersey.

Rez Ball isn’t just a sports story. It’s a story about identity, community, and resilience. And it’s one I’m so happy to have in my classroom and possibly inspire me to create a sports lit ELA class.