Reviews: Two New Junior-Middle Grade Novels

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Leila Austin reviews two new novels and comes across adventurous kids, dragon poo and mysteriously vanishing pistachio cupcakes.

Maddison McQueen and the Cupcake Mystery (Red Collie Mysteries: Book 1), by Kate Gordon-Smith (Relish Books)

Maddison McQueen and the Cupcake Mystery is the first in author and bookseller Kate Gordon-Smith’s new junior fiction series, The Red Collie Mysteries. It tells the story of ten year old Maddie’s quest to solve the mystery of who stole the cupcakes her grandma baked for her town’s annual show, with help from her friends, her family, her police officer uncle, and, of course, her red collie, Ruby. The vibe is basically The InBESTigators in novel form, with a dash of Hairy Maclairy for good measure. It’s a cute combo.

The vibe is basically The InBESTigators in novel form, with a dash of Hairy Maclairy for good measure.

This one surprised me. As I read the first few chapters, I thought I was reading a book doing exactly what it said on the tin and no more: a neighbourhood mystery, with dogs, an entertaining story but nothing deeper. And I couldn’t decide how I felt about a cop being uncritically portrayed as a good guy at this particular moment in history. But the story moves at a fast clip, and as it carried me along, I started to notice things. Like how Maddie’s quest isn’t just about working out who stole some cupcakes, but also why her best friend suddenly ditched her to hang out with the new girl instead (my ten-year-old self deeply relates). And how Maddie’s family are Māori, and her cop uncle just so happens to have a husband, and the story is refreshingly chill and understated about it all, treating diversity as a normal and unremarkable fact of life. And there’s the friendly small town setting, Wānaka, a nice chance for Kiwi kids outside our bigger cities to see themselves and their world in a novel. There are also mentions of Maddie’s older relatives navigating class tensions in the UK (as a Kiwi raised by Brits that particular piece of backstory rang very true to me), and a family member’s past bout of mental illness. Also there are Maddie’s lovely relationships with her parents and wider whānau—there’s so much warmth between them, and so much great banter. I would hang out with these people any day. 

There’s also a part of the story where Maddie and her friends choose to do something particularly dangerous to gather evidence—the kind of thing that happens without consequence in kids’ mystery stories all the time—but in this book, Maddie and her friends have to deal with very real consequences for their actions, and with their guilt over it. I appreciated how Maddie’s parents and whānau clearly know how to draw a firm boundary when needed, but they’re also kind and empathetic with a kid who has made a mistake and knows it.

It makes sense to me that Gordon-Smith is a bookseller, because I get the impression this is an author who knows her audience inside out.

Sure, this book might be cute and sweet, but it’s not at all shallow. Gordon-Smith has done an artful job of writing a rip-roaring plot but sneaking in all kinds of thoughtful details that give her world a rare depth for a junior fiction series. It makes sense to me that Gordon-Smith is a bookseller, because I get the impression this is an author who knows her audience inside out. Much like a plate of Maddie’s white chocolate and passionfruit cupcakes, I could see seven to nine year olds devouring this one. With its short, punchy chapters and dyslexia friendly formatting, it has potential to draw in a fair few reluctant readers too.

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Avis and the Call of the Kraken, by Heather McQuillan (The Cuba Press)

“Having two dragons was no fairy tale. Fairy tales were simpler. With less poo.”

In Avis and the Promise of Dragons, Avis dealt with her parents’ separation, a school bully—and a pet-sitting job that just so happened to involve dragons. Avis and the Call of the Kraken, the sequel, picks up right where the first left off. Avis is now navigating her mother’s decision to move to Australia with her new, All Black husband, her older brother’s decision to follow her, and also those same school bullies, an overwhelming new modern learning environment-style classroom at school, where she doesn’t have many friends—and, of course, there’s her dragon, Humbert, who Avis is doing her best to raise in secret. But that’s not all. Environmental concerns also play a major role in the story, which starts with Avis and Humbert discovering an oil drilling rig while out flying together, and a family of sea monsters who are under threat from it. And there’s a lot about the scientific process, because, after all, as Avis’ scientist employer Malinda points out, “Once studied, observed and understood, then myths and fairy tales become science. I think they’re even more fascinating that way!” 

McQuillan weaves history and immigration in there too

McQuillan weaves history and immigration in there too—there’s mention of the Dawn Raids, which some of the characters lived through—and the role journalism plays in our lives, particularly what it means to end up under the media microscope through no choice of your own. On top of all that, Avis is also dealing with the classic concerns of growing up: struggling to adjust as the people around you change and sometimes leave you behind, navigating new responsibilities, and the mortifying beginnings of puberty. 

There aren’t many children’s novels out there that genuinely warrant a Mahy comparison, but this one does. It’s rare to come across a children’s novel which attempts this level of juggling act, and even rarer to come across one that successfully pulls it off. Avis and the Call of the Kraken fits right into the tradition of The Haunting and The Changeover. Like Mahy, McQuillan treats her readers as thoughtful and curious and capable, and she does not back away or simplify. McQuillan is less showy as a writer than Mahy: less fireworks, more understated with wry observations, but it works just as well. And like Mahy, she has a great eye for the kind of detail that will make her story, and its world, feel extra alive. (Like any pet, these dragons poo. A lot.) My one critique is that the story suffers under the weight of its own ambition at times: the dialogue has a lot of exposition to carry, and occasionally Avis ends up pondering things without much else going on a little longer than ideal. But nonetheless, this is one of the most real and complex fantasy novels for children I’ve read in ages. 

It’s rare to come across a children’s novel which attempts this level of juggling act, and even rarer to come across one that successfully pulls it off.

I love that Avis is so messy and so raw, how she sometimes gets overwhelmed by her feelings and does things she regrets, and how she often doesn’t know the right answer but does her best all the same. I also loved how Avis’ story is not about a lone kid keeping everything secret and saving the day alone—even though the climax still features plenty of heroics—but about a kid who grows and becomes stronger the more she lets people in. She is the messy, brave heroine all of us need right now, and I would happily follow her anywhere she goes (even if it’s an island full of sandflies and feral turkeys). 

I’d especially recommend this one for nine to twelve year olds, and I hope it’s on the radar of whoever is judging the next New Zealand Book Awards.

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