By Christina Wyman
An eighth grader whose acne won't quit tries to feel at home in her own skin while her family rearranges around her.
Ellis Starr collects facts about volcanoes, which feels about right, because her own face erupts no matter what she tries. The acne is chronic, eighth grade is already a minefield, and now her mom, who swings from warm to sharp and back, has started dating for the first time since Ellis's dad moved out. Ellis spends the year trying to like the girl in the mirror while the ground at home keeps moving. The one place she can exhale is her aunt Lydia's, where a puppy named Rocco doesn't care what her skin looks like.
There aren't many middle-grade books that take skin this seriously, and this one hands the whole miserable business to a child who dreads the group photo and the bathroom mirror. Ellis is funny and honest company, so the acne, the up-and-down mom, and the dad who isn't around land soft instead of crushing. If your child tears through Raina Telgemeier or Terri Libenson, this is the same register: real feelings, told lightly, done in a couple of afternoons.