Bookishly Jewish

Poor Maya, the protagonist of Mosaic, has to contend with heat, dust, bugs, and various other creepy-crawlies when she moves into a rural Israeli farming community. I could definitely relate – not so long ago, I made my own transition to a moshav in Israel’s south and encountered my first “wolf” spider up close and personal. I could also sympathize with Maya’s initial dismay at
her radically new surroundings: no malls and no movie theaters, but plenty of dust, bugs, and vegetation.

Maya’s parents are both loving, but work long hours to stabilize their economic situation (this part rings especially true in today’s world), so Maya is left much to her own resources. All the moshav kids have grown up together and there are very definite cliques. She finds herself in the middle of a rivalry between two girls, both of whom she likes, but they are ex-best friends and each is competing for her friendship. These two rivals are Ashkenazi and Ethiopian Jews, respectively, but the conflict between them has nothing to do with their different ethnic backgrounds, just the differences in their personalities and temperaments. This acceptance of one another’s identities is my idea of a perfect world.

The setting of the rural community does feels authentic. This Israel, however, is completely normative – there is no war, looming or otherwise, no demonstrations, no hostages, and no strife. In other words, it’s the world of the average middle school student, and it’s average-ness is refreshing, and in my opinion, much needed. The only battles fought here are preserving integrity
to friends, family, and self. This Israel could be anywhere. There are school projects, malls, clothes, bus rides, and pop stars, and even non-Jewish readers can relate to the story.

I was charmed by the novel’s depiction of Maya’s experiences during the Rosh Hashanah holiday. Maya and her family are hosted for the holiday meal by the family of Melessa, an Ethiopian girl, whose great-aunt reminisces about Ethiopian Jewish culture and history and the great hardships her family endured to get to the Promised Land.

Maya is insecure in the way of all middle school girls, but she has a strong sense of self. As she figures out the new and complicated social network, she finds herself showing true leadership qualities as she orchestrates a big school event (think American Idol meets Crash Karaoke with a sprinkling of Dance Moms) that reconciles the strained friendships. There’s enough excitement and humor to keep a middle grade reader hooked. And a life-affirming message about personal responsibility, loyalty, and going the extra mile for friends and community.

The titular “mosaic” is reflected in the mosaic that Melessa and Maya construct for a school project. Melessa shows Maya how each piece, of different size and color, can be placed with care to create a beautiful and harmonious whole. In a sense, the mosaic reflects both the macrocosm of the different communities living in the moshav, and the microcosm of the circle of friends.

In Mosaic, Maya isn’t forced to confront the big issues of our time (unless you consider social media an issue, which I do); she undergoes a personal journey in which she summons inner resources that I wish we all could find. Would love to see a sequel with these same characters

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Adina Moryosef is a semi-retired text editor who specializes in academic and other works by non-native speakers. She holds in MA in religious studies from UC Santa Barbara. She and her family made aliyah in 2003.

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The traditional publishing timeline is not immediately obvious to people not working in the industry, so I’d like to provide some background before diving in to Benjamin Resnick’s debut dystopian novel Next Stop. Typically speaking, once a writer has their completed fiction manuscript (nonfiction is different) they spend a whole lot of time querying agents to represent them. Those lucky enough to find representation then go through some revisions before submitting to editors who can, and often do, take over a year to respond. Then the acquired book is slated for publication in 1-2 years from the date of acquisition.

Sound like a behemoth? It is.

Why am I telling you this? Because I want you to understand that the book I am currently holding in my hands is a literal unicorn. Except maybe I should choose a less happy mythical creature, because Next Stop is kind of bleak – in a good way.

People looking to understand how recent world events have affected the fiction publishing landscape often forget that the books coming out at any given time were acquired way before the political and social moments in which they release. There might be some shifts in marketing priorities, but it’s much more pertinent to look at acquisition announcements, or announcements that an author has found representation.

Next Stop, on the other hand, manages to hit the current moment in time like a sledgehammer. In part this is due to the author realizing the tenuous nature of Jewish existence, especially as it relates to the diaspora, way before most of us caught on. However, it is also a testament to publishing being able to move a whole lot quicker than usual when a book in the submission pile actually rises to meet the occasion.

Next Stop follows Ethan and Ella, who fall in love and raise Ella’s young son against a backdrop of an increasingly antisemitic world. A huge black hole deemed the ‘anomaly’ has engulfed the state of Israel and smaller anomalies are popping up around the globe. Since the anomalies began in a geographical area the general public associates with Jews, the world very quickly gives in to their underlying antisemitism and blames Jews around the world. A wave of restrictions that mirrors both Hitler’s Germany and numerous previous government sponsored Jewish persecutions – that everyone who isn’t a Jew often forgets about – sprout up. It’s a story that has played out time and again, and I believe it is not without intention that Resnick chose to use terms from persecutions of the past – the Jewish Ghetto is called “The Pale” for example – to remind us that none of this is new.

Resnick is prescient in not just predicting the future, but also in analyzing the past. When his characters look back on the time of the pandemic, their emotions touch on what is becoming a new reality for many of us. I found myself uniquely moved by the mother who states that during the pandemic, for all its uncertainty, we were “living like kings in Odessa,” but simply didn’t know it. She’s not referring to an abundance of riches. She’s referring to an emotion that many of us who struggled to raise children during that critical time now share. With hindsight comes the knowledge that we and our children did not die, and thus the ability to realize that it was a unique time when we were all actually together. Sure, we were so together we sometimes erected cardboard structures in our apartments to give everyone their own space. Sure we cycled through obsessions like Cosmic Kids Yoga and bread baking. But memory is a malleable thing, and so now our minds focus on the fact that we did these things as a family in a way we are so rarely able to achieve anymore. It’s hard to parse, because many people actually did lose their lives, but there it is. A grain of joy amongst the horror.

This emotional poignancy runs through the entire book. Even the smallest moments, that are unrelated to the overarching plot, are treated with care and an understanding of the fragility of humanity – especially minority populations.

I was not surprised to learn that Resnick is a Rabbi. If you’ve ever met a competent Rabbi, you’ll have discovered that they are uniquely analytic. Jewish spiritual leaders are not here to give us all the answers. They’re here to help point out the questions we ought to be asking ourselves.

Next Stop is possibly the bleakest thing I’m going to read all year – or maybe all century, my readers know I’m kind of a lightweight in terms of tolerating horror and the like. However, it is also uniquely hopeful, and no that is not a contradiction. The ending I was dreading actually caps off the second portion of the book and there is a third section that I was not entirely expecting but was extremely grateful for. The many mysteries about the anomaly are not revealed, nor is it apparent to me that the author even knows the answers to those questions, but instead Resnick pulls hard on the thematic strand of children and the hope they represent. Judaism is a religion uniquely focused on the next generation – our communal next stop so to speak – and this comes through in the ending.

I was shaken, and terrified, and had some trouble sleeping, but I was also deeply moved and deeply seen. I do not regret reading it and I look forward to reading whatever Resnick produces next. Rabbi, you have this readers attention.

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If you read my gushing review of The Pomegranate Gate, you know I’m a fan of author Ariel Kaplan. I was thrilled to be given the opportunity to interview her, and hope you find our conversation as intriguing and thought provoking as I did.

BookishlyJewish: I loved The Pomegranate Gate so much! It had so many interlocking pieces and connections that came together at the end. How long did it take you to write?

Ariel Kaplan: Thank you so much! According to my files, I started the draft in the middle of 2018 and worked on it for around two years. The bulk of the book was written over the covid shutdown, so it was slow-going.

BookishlyJewish: Did you go in with an outline or did the book develop on its own?

Ariel Kaplan: I always go into a book with an outline—and then I jettison the whole thing. I’m not sure why I bother writing them up at this point; I go in with the best of intentions and beautiful ten-page outlines I never use beyond the first couple of chapters. In the original outline for Pomegranate Gate, the Old Woman was in exactly one scene (and was never heard from again) and Elena disappeared after chapter three. I’m always a little surprised how much things change in the writing.

BookishlyJewish: I was particularly intrigued by the Dream World and the experience of shared dreaming. Where did this idea come from and what do you think it adds to the lives of the characters that experience it?

Ariel Kaplan: I didn’t invent the concept of shared dreams, but I was intrigued by the idea that this could be a fundamental trait of an entire race. The Maziks are never asleep in the sense that we think of it, in that their dreams aren’t private. They try to mitigate some of the stress of that by making it taboo to discuss what happens in the dreamworld, but of course that only goes so far. The dreamworld also allows people to have relationships that they can’t have waking because of physical or social constrictions, so in that way it makes the world a much richer place for them. And in the case of the half-Maziks, it means that people in the mortal world can communicate with the Mazik world whenever they close their eyes. 

BookishlyJewish: The way Toba Bet was created from Toba reminded me of the way some people talk about Adam and Eve with Adam being more worthy, or more of a person, than Eve because he came first. Can you talk a little bit about Toba Bet’s personhood and the choices you took with her arc?

Ariel Kaplan: That’s a really excellent perspective, and honestly it’s one that hasn’t occurred to me until now. Toba Bet begins as a bit of accidental magic, but none of the other characters are cognitively consistent about what she actually is—Asmel even says she and the original Toba are functionally indistinguishable and yet he initially rejects the idea that Toba Bet is a real person. I thought those contradictions were interesting to play with. And of course Toba Bet’s arc continues into the next two books. The fact that she was created rather than born is something she has to wrestle with for a while.

BookishlyJewish: While reading I found myself absolutely gravitating towards the mirror world rather than the “real” world. Was one world easier to write than the other?

Ariel Kaplan: Certain characters are easier to write more then the world, I think, because they just play well off each other. Any scene that had Barsilay in it was very much fun to write because he plays well off anyone. 

BookishlyJewish: Do you have a favorite character? 

Ariel Kaplan: As I said, Barsilay was probably the easiest character to write. But I think both of the old women characters—Elena and the Old Woman herself—are probably my favorites, because their perspectives are so different, and because fantasy is so often a younger-person’s narrative. 

BookishlyJewish: In my review, I said that I would dearly love to see how this book was narrowed down into a one page synopsis for the purposes of querying because I just didn’t think it was possible. Is there such a synopsis? And if yes, how did you manage it?

Ariel Kaplan: You know, I was fortunately enough not to have pitch this myself, which meant that Hannah Bowman (my agent) had to take on that task. This was long enough ago that I don’t remember the details of her pitch letter, but I think it was not dissimilar to the flap copy on the finished book. 

BookishlyJewish: Is there anything in particular you hope readers take away from the book?

Ariel Kaplan: I wrote Pomegranate Gate and the sequels, with a deep affection for the Jewish folklore I drew from in writing them, and I hope that comes through. I would love it if these stories piqued an interest in readers in going back to explore those stories, and of course in looking for more Jewish fantasy books.

BookishlyJewish: I haven’t read The Republic of Salt yet, so no spoilers, but what should readers prepare for? Do you have a plan for how many books there will be in the series?

Ariel Kaplan: There are three books in this series; The Republic of Salt is out now, and Book Three (scheduled for 2026, but I don’t think the title has been announced yet) both expand the world of the books. Republic of Salt takes place mainly in the trade city of Zayit (a fantasy analogue of Venice). So we get to see how Maziks are living outside of Rimon, in a city that is culturally distinct and also has a completely different political structure which our characters have to navigate. Without spoiling Pomegranate Gate, I’ll also say that Tarses’s ambitions are grander now, and we see a lot more of his lieutenants, especially the Courser, the Peregrine, and the demon Atalef.

BookishlyJewish: I always end by asking if you have a favorite Jewish book to recommend to our readers.

Ariel Kaplan: I feel like we’re living in a really exciting time for Jewish fantasy… I realized that publishers were willing to take a chance on this after reading The Golem and the Jinni and Spinning Silver, and I haven’t stopped thinking about When the Angels Left the Old Country since I read it.

Side note from BookishlyJewish – it’s a good sign when we’ve read and reviewed all three recommended books!

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The Pomegranate Gate Amazon | Bookshop

The Republic of Salt: Amazon | Bookshop

There is a bond that comes through shared life experiences. I have seen it in my given profession, but also in writing circles. I am closer with some of my writing friends than I am with some people I went to high school with. We have turned to each other in crisis, we pull each other through. It was this idea of joined communal interest that drew me to Sisters in Science, by Olivia Campbell.

It’s a weird right time right now in the world for a lot of people. Friendships are being tested, and long lasting relationships are dissolving in the blink of an eye, while others are rapidly forming. This is seen a million times over for the four women physicists featured in Sisters in Science. These women pushed against a misogynistic world that was extremely unfriendly to female scientists to build meaningful careers and find fellow scientists they could form productive relationships with. Despite all that, they still find their work and their lives in peril from a new and unforeseen threat – the third reich.

It is notable that only one of the four profiled scientists was a person who considered herself a Jew. Lise Meitner, arguably the most famous of the bunch, came under threat because her ancestors were Jewish despite she herself not having any Jewish affiliation or thinking of herself as such. Two others were under threat for their anti-nazi sympathies, and having the gall to desire a career as a woman. One surprising thing I learned was how in addition to the horrific antisemitism, the Nazi government was also vehemently anti-woman. Women were for the home and church, birthing babies to further the Aryan race. German women were victims – but at the same time, also often wholehearted participants in oppression and cruelty of “lesser” people. Indeed, some of the only jobs open to them were assistants in Nazi “science” in which Jews (and other undesirables) were ruthlessly experimented upon.

Also complicated is the way every single friendship and professional relationship these women forged was put to the test. It is heartwarming to read of the colleagues who worked tirelessly to help them escape, but shocking to see the ones that sat back and let it happen. I’m not going to lie – sometimes I sit up at night wondering who would help me if things got bad. Would I have a tireless team of colleagues trying to help me survive? Or would I have my Nobel prize stolen by a supposed “friend” like Lise Meitner did, and then be told that I am selfish because I only had to endure the first five years of Nazi rule, while they had to endure all of them. As if she should feel bad for the colleagues who stayed behind and worked for the Nazi government, completely overlooking the fact that had she remained, she would have been shot in the back into a mass grave (the true fate of a butterfly biologist featured in book). And yet through it all, Meitner herself refused to participate in the Manhattan project, rejecting the idea of weaponizing her science.

These four women were lucky to escape, mostly due to their esteemed resumes and colleagues who pushed to save them. Their lives are a testament to the friends that refused to stand idly by, but also to the ability of the human mind to adapt to new circumstances. While this is a Jewish book, my favorite character was Hurtha Sponer, who was not Jewish but fled due to her anti-nazi sentiments, and then tirelessly worked to bring over her fellow scientists to safety. It is not a surprise to discover she lost a sister who was killed as part of the resistance. Some family values run deep.

I flew through Sister in Science at top speed and was left with the piercing agony of all the brilliant minds that were lost because their stories had less happy endings. How many families were torn apart, how much potential mercilessly cut off? I was moved by those who stood up to this regime and hope that through my interactions, I show that Jews are people just like anybody else, inspiring others to step forward. We need more Hurtha Sponers. May the memories of all we lost be for a blessing.

Note: BookishlyJewish received a copy of this book from the publicist after we reached out to ask for one.

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2024 was a big year of growth for BookishlyJewish. I set a goal of two posts a week and unless I was on vacation, we accomplished it. We rolled out four new features, which are looking like they might become annual staples. 100 Nights to Hanukkah was a huge hit driving both traffic and reader engagement so we would love to run a version of this next year, right along with out Hanukkah Gift Guide. Cookbook Week is selfish – I love cookbooks and will blab about them endlessly, but it also came with one of my favorite authors telling me she loves the exact same recipe as I do, which was a moment I never though would happen in my life. Reader’s Choice needs a bit of tweaking, but that’s what trying things out is for!

This was also the first year I kept good records. Therefore, it was exciting to look back and find 16 books with queer rep, 5 with BIPOC rep, 6 with disability or neurodivergent rep, and increasing sephardic, mizrahi and orthodox rep. We can only review what’s being published but please we would love to receive more of these. If I know a book contains this rep I will jump it to the head of the line.

There’s no breakdown of self pub, indie, trad because when I tried I got really confused as to who I should be counting as small press/indie. Suffice it to say, we have some of every category in there. We welcome them all. We even had our first book in translation and two books of poetry!

Here’s to hoping 2025 brings even more wonderful expansion for us. We always love to hear your thoughts and suggestion so please fell free to comment or email us!

Usually, BookishlyJewish Hanukkah book reviews feature books about Hanukkah or with strong Hanukah plot lines, but I couldn’t help myself from including my number one Hanukkah gift recommendation (and request!) this year. There’s a reason Chutzpah Girls by Julie Esther Silverstein and Tami Schlossberg Pruwer graces the cover of this years Hanukkah gift guide. It is literally perfect for everyone, and if I don’t receive one, I’m going to go buy it for myself because I want it in hardcover and not just the electronic copy I used for this review.

The premise is simple – the book has biographies of 100 brave and interesting Jewish women spanning from ancient biblical times through the modern day. These one page run downs are paired with stunning art. It’s a book that can be given to middle schoolers to learn about the power of Jewish values and perseverance, to senior citizens as a coffee table book, and to me as a cherished belonging for my collection. While I was familiar with many of these women, others were new to me, and I was so enthralled I kept poking people next to me to tell them about the incredible people I was learning about.

Jews come in many different shapes and sizes and Chutzpah Girls featured women from a wide swath of cultures – Ashkenazi, Sepharidc, Mizrahi, Haredi, Secular, Modern Orthodox – living all around the world. Plus, the illustrations were time period appropriate. Many readers will find either their namesake or their favorite Jewish heroine in here, while others will finally find someone like them featured in a book.

This is a book to inspire and delight. Readers are taken on a journey through the lives of women who lived in many different times, facing all sorts of obstacles, yet pulled through by using their shared Jewish values. It’s a book that readers can return to over and over as they seek reminders that they too can be a chutzpah girl.

Note: BookishlyJewish received an e-ARC of this book from the authors

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For many Jews, Hanukkah is a time for family. Clusters of menorahs burn bright against a window sill as every family member lights their own distinct menorah. Afterwards, extended families gather for seasonal parties and the exchanging of gifts (or more traditionally – gelt in envelopes). While the parties and gifts might be a spill over from the Christian tradition of exchanging gifts around this time of year, and a heavy marketing push to get as much of society buying as possible before year end balance sheets, the injunction to be together as a group is uniquely Jewish. The menorah is lit in a window or in a doorway in order to spread the word about the miracle publicly. There are even rules about how high up one can light the menorah, as it won’t officially count unless you can see it from street view or you bring someone up to view it. 

This all adds up to it being a real kick in the rear to spend Hanukkah alone. Which is exactly the predicament facing Andie, protagonist of Miri White’s adult romance novel Eight Nights To Win Her Heart. She’s celebrating the first Hanukkah since her father died, has no extended family, and is even facing the loss of what few connections she has as she contemplates a move to another state to find employment. It’s a bit depressing, until the neighbor she has been crushing on for months winds up at her door. After a few false starts, Andie and Leo agree to spend the eight nights of Hanukkah together. 

Leo is hard of hearing and battling to show his father that neither his hearing loss nor his childhood mistakes mean he cannot take over the family business. He’s also got a niece that struck me as just a tad unbelievably precocious for her age, kind of spoiled, and with way more technology use than I think is wise for a ten-year-old. But she’s a necessary plot device to move this relationship forward. Through her meddling, Leo takes Andie on a aeries of delightful adventures that show off Andie’s amazing skills as a preschool teacher – the woman has more empathy than seems legal – and the pluses and minuses of Leo’s family. Because let’s face it – while there are some very steamy scenes between these two – it’s the love of family that is really roping Andie into this relationship.

The third act conflict is where my writerly side came out and tried to ruin things for me. Unfortunately, I saw it coming a mile away, and it kept distracting me waiting for the thing I knew was going to happen to actually happen. At least this time no fluffy companions were harmed in the process (they are the reason I can’t read horror in which precious things are presented to us one by one in order to be killed off later. My heart was not built for that). We feel Andie’s outrage even as we ponder the actual legality of the situation, and how she might have a whole plethora of options she hasn’t explored yet. In the end, it’s family that helps repair the rift, which brings the relationship full circle. 

I’m not naive enough to think many people don’t celebrate Hanukkah alone. In fact, as an introvert, I sometimes need more alone-ness in my life and holidays like this can overwhelm me. But when living in Andie’s world I felt her needs keenly. It’s a useful reminder to reach out to the people in your life you’ve been only superficially interacting with. You just never know where things will go. 

Note: BookishlyJewish received an arc of this book from the publisher

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When I think Hanukkah books, I think Stacey Agdern. Don’t get me wrong, there were some crumbs of representation already existing, and many authors and artists fighting to increase it, but Agdern’s Friendship’s and Festivals series was when I saw Hanukkah getting acknowledged in a big way by the general reading populace. Plus, it was representation in the right way – written by an actual Jewish person who is sensitive to what out traditions actually look like. Rather than trying to fit us into a mold that works for others, those books let Jews just be Jews. Which is why I was ecstatic to hear she was releasing a new Hanukkah book for this season. 

The Dreidl Disaster is the third book in the Last Girls Standing series and follows Liv, the mayor of a small New England town preparing to receive a Hanukkah sculpture from a hockey team. Unfortunately, the team representative coordinating the event has completely botched the entire thing – presenting a proposal to the town consisting of Christmas traditions thinly coated in blue for Hanukkah and clearly having no relevance to the town or Judaism. The town residents, including the non-Jewish ones, are in an uproar. Liv’s mayoral legacy as she prepares to leave office for a different position is in jeopardy. To fix this mess the hockey team sends in someone we’ve met before as part of the Friendship and Festivals series – Artur Rabinovitch, professional fixer. 

Artur and Liv have a growing attraction, but there’s the whole sticky issues of their respective jobs and what is and isn’t appropriate while they coordinate the event. The Dreidl Disaster is a closed door/sweet type of romance, you are safe to read this book pretty much anywhere, but as a public figure Liv can’t even date publicly without half the town giving her the side eye. This small town vibe is always captured so well by Agdern, and I especially adore how she creates worlds that both acknowledge the complicated web of Jewish geography while also incorporating communities made of Jews and non Jews who respect each others traditions

One word of caution, I think you really should read some of the other books in the Agdern universe before jumping into this one. There were so many repeat characters and references to past events that I think you might feel like you were missing out if you didn’t know what they were referring to. This shouldn’t be a problem though, because those other books are totally worth it. 

Jewish romance in particular has seen a blossoming of late. I was able to find new books for every night of Hanukkah this year! But sometimes it’s good to go back to the classics. And as is the classical Jewish blessing, may they grow and multiply to include not just Hanukkah but all of our holidays. We contain multitudes. Publishing is finally catching up and this is just the tip of the iceberg.

Note: BookishlyJewish receive an e-ARC of this book from the author

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Hanukkah is an interesting holiday, because it has taken on an oversized importance in the Jewish calendar thanks to the non-Jewish holidays that surround it. For Jessica Sacks, protagonist of Jennifer Wilck’s romance Deadlines, Donuts & Dreidels, it also represents a way to disguise her trip home as a visit for the holidays rather than the unfortunate side effect of her being fired from her job as a reporter. Thanks to a mistake on a prior article, she’s out on her behind – unless she can convince local hometown hero Thomas to give her an interview so she can impress her former boss.

Thomas just so happens to be Jessica’s neighbor and childhood crush. Except the holiday season isn’t so benign for him either. As a firefighter, he’s recently rescued a man from a burning building and the town wants to honor him. As an alcoholic, he’s resigned from his position due to shame over having been under the influence on the job, is determined to ignore the honors being bestowed on him, and also preparing for a dry Christmas. The last thing he needs is his nosy neighbor – who just so happens to have grown up into a very attractive woman – poking around and exposing his secrets.

Jessica is walking a tight line. She wants to use the growing attraction between her and Thomas as a means to get him to open up, but she doesn’t want to be manipulative. In fact, the further she delves into the relationship, the more distasteful the assignment becomes. Deadlines, Donuts & Dreidels is steamy – there are two sex scenes – Jessica and Thomas clearly have chemistry. It’s understandable that Jessica doesn’t want to jeopardize the relationship. To make it all worse, she’s coming under pressure from her mother who doesn’t want her to date a christian.

Interfaith romance is an interesting choice for Hanukkah, which is technically a celebration of Jewish rebels who refused to assimilate into Greek culture, but Wilck handles a difficult topic with grace. Jessica has an intriguing visit to her Rabbi which shines a light on what this relationship means for reform Jews.

In the end, we see a blending of holiday customs that is both sensitive and sweet. Jessica and Thomas both need to realize their own worth, and their friends and family are there to help them through that process. It’s the kind of book to cozy up with a cup of peppermint hot chocolate and a jelly donut, whether you’re doing so in front of a tree or a menorah.

Note: BookishlyJewish I received a copy of this book from the author

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As a writer, I’m no stranger to failure. The vast majority of writers, even successful ones, will face far more rejection in their careers than they do success. One of my writing groups routinely ponders the fact that the difference between those who make it and those who don’t, for the majority of authors, has more to do with thick skin/perseverance than talent. So I can really empathize with the dreidel in Little Dreidel Learns to Spin.

Who among us hasn’t felt like we are struggling to do the thing we are born to do, yet somehow keep messing up while all our critique partners are sailing through? Poor little dreidel is aware that this is his moment, the holiday for which he was created to dance and spin, but he just can’t figure it out. Yet he keeps getting back up, dusting himself off, and trying again. Even when advice from friends and relatives is less than helpful. Even when it seems like everyone else is more talented. Even when falling hurts.

Because trying again is the only way to finally get it right.

We all learn at different rates, so it was nice to see a book where kids learn that the point is to keep trying until they figure it out. That sometimes, even when we are all striving for the same goal, we each have different paths to success. Little Dreidel does indeed learn to spin, and it is all the more delightful because it didn’t come easily.

Note: BookishlyJewish received an arc of this book from the publisher

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