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Bletchley Park Books for Teens

The Enigma Girls: How Ten Teenagers Broke Ciphers, Kept Secrets, and Helped Win World War II by Candace Fleming.

The Bletchley Riddle by Ruta Sepetys and Steve Sheinkin.

Bletchley Park and the code breakers who lived and worked there during World War II are hot topics these days. Maybe it’s because the whole episode is less “mined” because of all the secrecy that surrounded the work there. Maybe it’s just a fleeting trend. At any rate, there do seem to be a lot of books about Bletchley floating around, but not so many for the younger set. Until now.

These two books, one fiction and one nonfiction, were recently published (2024) and are appropriate for young people about 13 years of age and up. The Enigma Girls tells the story of several teenaged girls who were recruited to work at Bletchley either because of their math skills or their language proficiency. But these girls were not, for the most part, doing the high level code breaking that was the most intriguing and intellectually challenging work going on at Bletchley Park. Rather, they were keeping records on notecards of all of the code words and German double speak that had been decoded. Or they were servicing and keeping the huge “bombes” running. These were the machines that were created to infiltrate and determine the settings for the German Enigma coding machines. Machines (or primitive computers) were fighting machines, and teenagers were keeping the machines moving and computing.

By limiting her story to the females who worked at Bletchley, gifted nonfiction author Candace Fleming risks over-emphasizing and even distorting the role that these women and girls played in the overall mission of breaking and intercepting the Nazi communications. But she doesn’t fall into that trap, and instead as I read I was moved to admire the persistence and hard work of these unsung heroines who toiled in harsh conditions doing work that they were unable to discuss or even understand completely. It wasn’t a romantic, spy-novel kind of job. The “bombes” were huge, oily, and loud, and the girls who tended them knew very little about how they worked or what significance their work might have. And after the war was over, the Enigma Girls were still left in the dark about how their work helped England win the war because they and everyone else who worked with them were bound to secrecy by the Official Secrets Acts that they all had to sign. They only knew that they were needed to “do their part” in defeating Hitler—and they did.

The Bletchley Riddle, although it is “based on the real history of Bletchley Park, Britain’s top-secret World War II codebreaking center,” makes the whole setting and story much more exciting and romantic. (Fiction can do that.) Ruta Sepetys and Steve Sheinkin, both well known in YA literature circles, wrote this spy novel together, and the joint authorship shows. It’s a bit disjointed at times, but the two authors do tie up most all of the loose ends by the end of the story. Fourteen year old Lizzie Novis has lost her mother, Willa, a single parent who works for the U.S. Embassy in London. Willa went to Poland to help evacuate tens of U.S. Embassy there in anticipation of the Nazi invasion of Warsaw. And she didn’t come back. Everyone says that Willa is dead, that she most likely died in the invasion. But Lizzie is sure that Willa is still alive, and she’s determined to find her mother no matter what it takes.

I’ll let you read to find out how Lizzie ends up in Bletchley, with several hurried trips back to London. I’ll let you read about Lizzie’s older brother Jakob, and how he becomes the other major character in the story. And finally in the pages of the book, you can meet Lizzie’s new friends, Marion and Colin, and read about a little harmless romance that springs up as they all try to keep up with the irrepressible Lizzie and her quest to find Willa. It’s a book about lying and spying and secret-keeping and persistence in a time and place where all of those qualities, even the dishonesty, are necessary for survival.

But the story never becomes too thoughtful or deep. It’s barely believable that Lizzie can get away with all of the shenanigans that she pulls. And Jakob seems too befuddled to be as intelligent as he’s supposed to be. Maybe he’s a bit of an absent-minded professor at the ripe age of nineteen. Anyway, it’s a lark, but not to be taken seriously. And the minor characters—Alan Turing, Dilly Knox, Gordon Welchman—as well as the setting provide a good introduction to Bletchley Park and its importance to the British war effort and eventual victory.

I recommend both books for those teens who are interested in World War II and Bletchley Park and codes and codebreaking. Oh, both books spend a fair amount time talking about codes and ciphers and Enigma and how it worked and how the Enigma code was broken? Or deciphered? I can never keep the difference straight in my head between codes and ciphers, much decode or decipher anything. But you may have better skills than I do.

The Cuckoo’s Calling by Robert Galbraith

Definitely not for everybody. Robert Galbraith’s (J.K. Rowling’s) first book in her crime series about private detective Cormoran Strike is gritty and contains quite a bit of bad language, mostly F-bombs. (By the way, I really like that name, Cormoran Strike. It feels quirky and detective-like and memorable.) I wish Rowling could have toned down the language, but I must admit that in the world of celebrities and super-models where this particular mystery takes place, the dialog probably accurately reflects the characters and their common everyday use of language.

Cormoran Strike is a tortured soul, as most detectives usually are these days. Hercule Poirot and Miss Marple were rather ordinary and well-adjusted, except for their exceptional detecting abilities. Lord Peter Wimsey had a somewhat complicated background and some psychological issues, but nothing like what modern detectives of stage, screen, and literature have to deal with. Cormoran Strike has a dysfunctional childhood and a vengeful ex-girlfriend, and he’s lost one leg to a land mine in Afghanistan. And he’s practically homeless with his detective business about to go bankrupt due to a lack of clients.

So, when the wealthy brother of legendary super-model Lula Landry asks Cormoran to investigate the death, apparent suicide, of his sister, the detective is willing even though he doubts the police could have missed anything in the case, considering all the publicity surrounding Lula’s death. The case itself is a look into the lives of the rich and famous, a world that is not completely foreign to Cormoran Strike, whose mother was a “super-groupie” following his rock star father around for a while back in the 70’s.

The novel is well plotted, and I didn’t figure out whodunnit or how until the very end. There is also a lot of good character development as the story slowly introduces Cormoran Strike, his background, and his personality as well as his detecting methods and habits, learned through his time in the army as an army investigator. We also meet another character who will show up in subsequent novels, I’m sure: Robin Ellacott, the temp secretary and office manager that Cormoran can’t afford to keep on but finds invaluable in ferreting out clues and information for him to use in his investigation. The story is told in third person, but mostly from the viewpoint of either Cormoran Strike or Robin Ellacott, so we get to be privy to some of Strike’s thoughts as well as Robin’s, understanding how they react to one another and to the suspects and witnesses to Lula Landry’s suicide–or murder. The duo work together well, but frequently misunderstand one another in small ways that make the story intriguing and keep the reader guessing as to what will happen next.

I liked it well enough to request the next book in the series from the library, and if the language and grit don’t get any worse, I’ll probably continue to read the entire series. The other books in the series so far are:

  • The Silkworm
  • Career of Evil
  • Lethal White
  • Troubled Blood
  • The Ink Black Heart
  • The Running Grave
  • The Hallmarked Man? (not yet published)

Again, the content is dark, including foul language, drug use, sexual immorality (not described explicitly in this book), and violence (somewhat gritty, but not too much detail). This is a book for adults, not children or teens. But the characters are engaging, and the mystery was satisfying in its conclusion. J.K. Rowling is a good writer with a talent for more than fantasy writing.

Jane and the Year Without a Summer by Stephanie Barron

I was looking for new mystery detective fiction, having read all of the Agatha Christie, Rex Stout, Dorothy Sayers, and Erle Stanley Gardner that I could find, as well as many more in the genre. A friend suggested the Jane Austen Mysteries by Stephanie Barron. I looked for the first book in the series, Jane and the Unpleasantness at Scargrave Manor, but my library didn’t have it on the shelf. So I just picked one that sounded interesting and thus read Jane and the Year Without a Summer, set in the summer of 1816 when “the eruption of Mount Tambora in the South Pacific caused a volcanic winter that shrouded the entire planet for sixteen months.” (Climate change, indeed!)

The real Jane Austen died in 1817 at the age of 41, so this book portrays a fictional Jane well toward the end of her short life. Jane is feeling unwell with chronic fatigue and stomach upset, and she and her sister Cassandra decide to sample the waters at Cheltenham Spa in Gloucestershire. These books are said to be “based on the author’s examination of Austen’s letters and writings along with extensive biographical information.” But of course, a mystery is inserted into the biographical story to spice things up a bit.

In this particular book, the mystery involves a several of the Misses Austen’s fellow boarders at the lodging house in Cheltenham where they are staying. The actual murder (or unexplained death) doesn’t happen until about three quarters of the way through the book, but the atmosphere and setting that the author creates makes up for the lack of action in the first half of the book. The characters, aside from Jane herself, are somewhat one-dimensional, and the mystery and resolution there of require some suspension of disbelief. Why and how the murderer does the deed is a bit unlikely. Nevertheless, the Regency setting with period details and information about the real Jane Austen’s life and times is, as Jane might say, quite enjoyable.

I liked it well enough to seek out another book in the series, preferably the first, and maybe I’ll read them them all. Stephanie Barron has written fifteen of these books with Jane as the sleuth and protagonist, and the fifteenth one is called Jane and the Final Mystery. So I assume the series is complete. It might be a nice adventure to travel through all fifteen.

The Hidden Treasure of Glaston by Eleanore M. Jewett

In twelfth century England the feud between Archbishop Thomas Becket and King Henry has ended in the murder of Becket, forcing the boy Hugh’s noble father, an ally of the king, into exile in France. Young Hugh, crippled by a childhood disease, is left behind in the care of the Abbot of Glastonbury. Glaston soon becomes Hugh’s sanctuary and his beloved home as he finds both mentors and friends as well as a quest to find remnants and reminders of King Arthur’s and perhaps even Joseph of Arimathea’s presence, centuries prior, in that part of the country.

Hugh’s first friendship formed at Glaston is with Dickon, a young oblate at the monastery of Glaston. (oblate: a person dedicated to a religious life, but typically having not taken full monastic vows.) Dickon’s peasant family has signed him over to the monks of Glaston, but Dickon aspires to become a knight, or at least to serve knight. Hugh wishes he could be a knight and make his father proud, but his crippled legs make this dream an impossibility. The two boys become friends, with very different personalities, but also with a common goal of finding or at least seeing a vision of the legendary Holy Grai

Hugh’s mentors and adult friends are Brother John, the monastery’s librarian (armarian), and Bleheris, a seemingly mad hermit who shares Hugh’s and Dickon’s interest in the vision of the Holy Grail. The story moves rather slowly, but the picture of Hugh’s growth and healing and of the friendships he makes is compelling. I kept reading, not to see whether Hugh and his friends would find the Grail, but rather to see whether and how Hugh would find healing for his physical and spiritual wounds.

Honestly, although I enjoyed this Newbery honor-winning novel, I’m not sure what group of children or young people would be the audience for it. Perhaps those who are deeply interested in the whole Arthurian legend would enjoy this Arthur-adjacent story, or maybe fans of Rosemary Sutcliff’s historical fiction. The plot and characters remind me of the Newbery Award book, The Door in the Wall by Marguerite de Angeli; however, The Hidden Treasure of Glaston is a much more intricate and involved look at life in a medieval monastery and the difficulties facing a young boy with a disability in that society–at a much higher reading level. If The Door in the Wall was a favorite for an eight to eleven year old reader, this book might be a good follow-up for ages twelve and up.

I read this book as a part of the 1964 Project. A reprint edition of The Hidden Treasure of Glaston is available from Bethlehem Books.

This book can be borrowed by member families from Meriadoc Homeschool Library.

The Giant Jam Sandwich by John Vernon Lord

Lord, John Vernon. The Giant Jam Sandwich. With verses by Janet Burroway. Houghton Mifflin, 1972, 2000.

The setting is the English village of Itching Down. The characters are a full cast of English villagers: Mayor Muddlenut, Baker Bap, Farmer Seed, and more. The problem is wasps, millions of wasps.

They drove the picnickers away,
They chased the farmers from their hay,
They stung Lord Swell on his fat bald pate,
They dived and hummed and buzzed and ate,
And the noisy, nasty nuisance grew
Till the villagers cried, “What can we do?”

Tis’ a puzzlement . . . until Bap the Baker proposes a giant strawberry jam trap. Funny and clever at the same time, this tall tale in rhyme plays out with grace and humor and ties up all the loose ends on the final page.

John Vernon Lord is an award-winning illustrator and a professor of illustration at the University of Brighton in England. Janet Burroway is an American author who collaborated on The Giant Jam Sandwich by taking Lord’s story and putting it into verse. The illustration style is not exactly my favorite: it’s very busy with lots of activity and caricature characters. The pictures feel British somehow, maybe because the architecture of the village and the look of the countryside is very British or European. Nevertheless, perusing those illustrations would give readers, and listeners, a lot of details to explore as they absorb the rollicking story of how the villagers of Itching Down disposed of four million wasps, give or take a few.

This one is in print, but only in paperback. It’s been popular enough that it’s been in print since 1972. And composer Philip Wharton wrote a narrated orchestral work based on the book. Watch out Peter and the Wolf–here comes The Giant Jam Sandwich! Maybe readers and fans could make up their own tunes for Burroway’s verses and sing the story.

The Great Jam Sandwich has been added to the new edition of Picture Book Preschool. This book can be borrowed by member families from Meriadoc Homeschool Library.

Lola Loves Stories by Anna McQuinn

McQuinn, Anna. Lola Loves Stories. Illustrated by Rosalind Beardshaw. Alanna Books, 2009. Charlesbridge, 2010.

This picture book is the second in a series of nine books about Lola and her family and their love affair with books and libraries and reading. The first book, Lola at the Library, is more informational, showing how Lola goes to the library with her mommy and checks out books and listens to the librarian tell stories during story time. In Lola Loves Stories, we get to read about and see how the books Lola borrows from the library work themselves into her imagination and her playtime.

Every Saturday Lola and her daddy go to the library where Lola finds some “excellent books.” When they come home, they read the books together, one book each evening. And every day as she plays with friends and alone, Lola acts out the many themes and characters in the stories she has read. She becomes a fairy princess, an adventurer, a tiger, and one day just a girl with sparkly shoes. There’s even a not-so-subtle nod to Max and his imagination in Where the Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak.

I love that this picture book is so simple, with brief, large print sentences, and yet so stimulating to the imagination for even the youngest (and oldest) readers. I like that Daddy takes Lola to the library in this book, and that Lola and her friend Ben have a play tea party with their baby dolls in strollers beside them.

The Lola Reads series is originally from a British author, written for a British audience, but either it’s been Americanized or the concepts and vocabulary are simple enough to reach across the ocean. The original British title is Lulu Loves Stories. I didn’t catch any Anglicisms that would need to be explained to an American child. Just a simple story about a child reading with her parents and acting out what she hears and reads.

Other books about Lola include:

  • Lola at the LIbrary
  • Lola Plants a Garden
  • Lola Gets a Cat
  • Lola Reads to Leo
  • Lola Meets the Bees
  • Lola Goes to School
  • Lola Sleeps Over
  • Lola’s Nana-Bibi Comes to Visit

This Picture Book Preschool book can be borrowed by member families from Meriadoc Homeschool Library.

The Tiger Who Came to Tea by Judith Kerr

Kerr, Judith. The Tiger Who Came to Tea. W. Collins (London), 1968.

This picture book is quite well known and popular in Britain, practically a classic, but not so well known in the U.S. As one can tell from the title, it’s a very British sort of story. Nevertheless, American children as well as those from other countries should be able to appreciate this whimsical tale of an unexpected tiger who comes to visit and eats up all the food and drink in the house. Words such as “tap” and “tins” and “biscuits” and “packets” and even “tea” may need to be redefined for those same American children, but that’s part of the fun.

The illustrations are bold and simple, perfect for preschoolers. And the Tiger is big but not scary. Even though the Tiger does look rather ravenous throughout, there’s no hint that the little girl in the story is afraid or worried that the Tiger will finish off his meal with her. In fact, she snuggles up to him and plays with his tail in the pictures. The girl and her parents do have to come up with a solution for the lack of food and drink in the house after the Tiger leaves. And they also make a plan just in case the Tiger makes a return visit: a big box of Tiger Food to keep on hand.

Sometimes British humor is, well, somewhat foreign to my American understanding, but this book is spot on. It’s short and sweet, also memorable and imaginative, and I can see why it has been a children’s literature staple in Britain since its publication in 1968. It reminds me a little bit of Where The Wild Things Are, published in 1964, or The Cat in the Hat from 1957. But it’s more precious, in a good way, and more British. This book is another one that I will definitely be adding to Picture Book Preschool in the new edition.

This Picture Book Preschool book can be borrowed by member families from Meriadoc Homeschool Library.

Rooftoppers by Katherine Rundell

Often I read twenty-first century middle grade fiction books in which the writing ranges from average to good, and I could recommend the book as a decent read—except for one minor dealbreaker or content advisory. Maybe the book has an evil character who swears once or twice, or the author has inserted a bit of modern propaganda or a minor character is added only to please the diversity crowd. I can overlook a certain amount of this kind of thing, but others may not be willing to do so. Then, I try to tell people the facts and let them decide.

Rooftoppers, a very popular British import, is in a different class. (Rooftoppers are abandoned and orphan children who live on the rooftops of Paris.) The writing–the metaphors and the sentence structures and the word choice–is excellent. I’ll give you a few examples, chosen almost at random:

“When they began to play, the music was different. It was sweeter, wilder. Sophie sat up properly and shifted forward until only half an inch of her bottom was on her seat. It was so beautiful that it was difficult for her to breathe. If music can shine, Sophie thought, this music shone. It was like all the voices in all the choirs in the city rolled into a single melody.”

“Money can make people inhuman. It is best to stay away from people who care too much about money, my darling. They are people with shoddy, flimsy brains.”

“Sophie looked and gasped. Below her feet, Paris stretched out toward the river. Paris was darker than London: It was a city lit in blinks and flickers. And it was Fabergé-egg beautiful, she thought. It was magic carpet stuff.”

“To most things in life, there is no trick, but to balance, Sophie thought, there was a trick of sorts. The trick was knowing where to find your center; balance lay somewhere between her stomach and her kidneys. It felt like a lump of gold in amongst brown organs. It was difficult to find, but once found, it was like a place marked in a book–easy to recover. “

The story itself is good, too. One year old Sophie survives the sinking of her ship at sea. She is taken in by her fellow survivor and rescuer, the eccentric scholar Charles Maxim. Charles is a wonderful guardian, but the powers-that-be, child care officers and social welfare committees, finally decide, just after Sophie’s twelfth birthday, that she must be removed to an orphanage so that she can be properly cared for–no more trousers and no writing on the walls and and no Charles Maxim to encourage her unorthodox ways. Sophie and Charles are both devastated. Coincidentally, just before Sophie is set to leave, guardian and child find an important clue about Sophie’s mother, who is said to have died when the ship sank. There is just the slightest possibility that she didn’t die, that she is somewhere in Paris. And so Sophie and Charles Maxim run away to Paris to look for Sophie’s cello-playing mother, and there they discover the Rooftoppers.

So far, so good. Excellent writing, a lively plot, endearing characters, building action–I can see why the book was an award-winning, best-selling success in Britain and why it is becoming more and more well known in the U.S. I had a very bright young lady recommend the book to me when I was in Ireland a few years ago, but I’m just now getting around to reading it.

But . . . our young protagonist, Sophie, with “hair the color of lightning”, “tall and generous and bookish and awkward”, also spits and curses. She curses and uses God’s name in vain several times in the course of the story. And it’s totally acceptable to her own conscience and to everyone else in the story. There’s nary an admonition, and no one blinks an eye. And then, there’s the fight scene. Sophie and her friends, the Rooftoppers, are attacked by another gang of young rooftoppers on a roof, of course. The children fight with teeth and nails, sharpened bone daggers, stones, and at least one knife. They bite and scratch and throw rocks and roof slates and draw blood, and Sophie kicks one of her (male) opponents in the crotch, rendering him incapacitated. The advice Sophie gets during the fight is serious and dangerous: “Punch like you mean it.” Kick him if you can’t punch him.” “Kicking is less personal.” “Do not mess with rooftoppers.”

So. Dealbreaker? I couldn’t hand this one to any of my young library patrons without a warning at least. And I won’t shelve it in my library, even though the author, “a fellow in English literature at All Souls College, Oxford’ has talent. I just wish she had left out the cursing and toned down the fighting.

Linnets and Valerians by Elizabeth Goudge

Linnets and Valerians is a beautiful, truth-filled, engaging fantasy story by one of my favorite authors that I’m afraid will be problematic for many Christian readers. It shouldn’t be problematic to acknowledge that there is a spiritual realm of both good and evil and that spiritual battles must sometimes be fought by unconventional means. But witchcraft and spells, even good ones that counter evil, are a snare and anathema to some people, even reading about such things, so follow your own conscience.

Four endearing but rather naughty siblings–Robert, Nan, Timothy, and Betsy– are left to stay with their grandmother while their father is in Egypt with his regiment. “Grandmother said they were insubordinate; Father only thought them high-spirited.” Since the children’s first acts in the book are to run away from grandmother’s house and to “borrow” a pony and cart full of someone’s else’s groceries, I tend to agree with Grandmother. But the children turn out to be charming, nevertheless.

And they don’t stay with Grandmother very long. It’s not much of a spoiler, since the change happens in the second chapter of the book, to tell that the four incorrigible children end up living with their Uncle Ambrose, a Church of England clergyman, former educator, and inveterate bachelor. Uncle Ambrose also claims to dislike children, but he takes his nephews and nieces into his home anyway. And so the adventure begins.

Since this is a fantasy story there is magic, both black magic and white. Since it’s an Elizabeth Goudge story there are families to be reunited. And since it’s essentially a story with Christian underpinnings and a fairy tale of sorts, there is a happy ending where all’s well that ends well. But before we get to the happy ending, there is also a witch and evil spells and good counter-spells. That’s the part that’s going to be a deal-breaker for some readers. In short, if Harry Potter is a an offense to your conscience, then Linnets and Valerians is not for you either. I wish Goudge had used prayer instead of “white magic” to fight off the evil in the book, but in a way the prayers and common sense of Uncle Ambrose are weapons in the battle, too.

Still, I thought it was a fantastic story. Robert is the quintessential plucky British boy with a big, but very practical, imagination. He tends to get himself and his siblings into trouble with his schemes and ideas, but Nan, the sensible older sister, is there to keep Robert somewhat in check. Timothy is imaginative, too, but he tends toward being delicate and sensitive and thoughtful rather than “a force to be reckoned with.” And little Betsy has both the sweetness and the toughness of a youngest child. Uncle Ambrose is curmudgeonly, with a heart of gold, and each of the other characters has his or her own eccentric personality and peculiarities, including Emma Cobley the witch, Ezra the beekeeper servant, Moses Glory Glory Alleluja, Lady Alicia, Abednego the monkey, Hector the owl, and even Daft Davie who lives in a cave up on the hill.

With wonderful characters such as these, Elizabeth Goudge weaves a plot that takes the children all over the surrounding countryside and into the ancient manor house of Lady Alicia, who lives a secluded life after having lost her husband and her only child. Lady Alicia’s only companions are Abednego the mischievous monkey and one servant, Moses Glory Glory Alleluja –until the children intrude on her life and indeed begin to bring her back to life. Full story to follow.

If you can get past the witchiness and “white magic”, this one of only two children’s books by Elizabeth Goudge (the other is The Little White Horse) is, dare I say, pure magic. It reminds me of a hymn of praise and a prayer for protection from evil, and there is in fact a hymn of praise and invocation inserted into the story. I wish I knew a tune for it.

Glory, children, glory alleluja,
Praise to the Lord.
Great glory for sun and moon and star shine,
And for His Word.

Glory that wells, streams, and flowing fountains
Sing to His praise,
That the snows laud him, frost fire, and rainbows
The nights and days.

Glory, children, glory alleluja
For birds and bees,
For shepherd and sheep upon the mountains,
Valleys and trees.

Is it glory for the gift o’ children
To guard an’ keep?
Varmints and scoundrels, I love ’em only
When they’re asleep.

Linnets and Valerians, p.97-98

This book can be borrowed by member families from Meriadoc Homeschool Library.

Once a Queen by Sarah Arthur

At first, I thought this 2024 middle grade/YA fantasy novel from Waterbrook Press was Narnia fan fiction, or perhaps a Narnia sequel, Susan’s Story: Once a Queen in Narnia or something like that. (“Once a king or queen of Narnia, always a king or queen of Narnia.”) That expectation was a disservice to the novel as it is. Sarah Arthur’s story certainly has strong echoes of Narnia, as well as being indebted to E. Nesbit, George MacDonald, Elizabeth Goudge, and Madeleine L’Engle, influences the author acknowledges in an author’s Q & A in the back of the book. So in my defense, I didn’t know, and the Narnia-love was there from the beginning.

I would advise readers to take Once a Queen on its own terms and NOT try to compare or find connections to any other stories or worlds until you get to the end. In this particular story, fourteen year old American Eva Joyce comes with her British mother to visit her estranged grandmother in the family manor of Carrick Hall in the West Midlands region of England. The year is 1995. Eva has been nurtured by the classic fantasy tales and children’s books, especially the Ternival tales of Mesterra by A.H.W. Clifton. She’s never actually experienced a magical portal to another world, however, even though this trip to England feels a bit like a fairy tale.

And the story does turn into a fairy tale, complete with magical worlds, an evil queen, secret gardens, fantastical creatures, and a quest to be completed. And secrets. Lots of secrets. Eva’s mum has secrets. Eva’s grandmother has secrets. Eva herself discovers so many wondrous secret things that she finds herself unable to keep all of the secrets straight. Who can be told about what, and when, and how? And what secrets are being withheld from Eva and why? This whole secret motif is the weakest part of the book: too many people keeping too many secrets for too little reason. Nevertheless, I resigned myself to getting bits of information doled out to me in each chapter –reluctantly and incompletely.

The novel itself alternates between strange occurrences in our world as Eva gets to know her grandmother and her grandmother’s tragic history and equally strange events in the world of Mesterra, woven by Magister, and ruled by a long line of kings and queens who built a a great kingdom called Ternival. Of course, there are doors between the worlds, hard to find and harder to open, but real. And Eva and her friend Frankie, the gardener’s grandson, are determined to find the way into the fantasy world that they have read about in books and somehow to solve the problems of their own world by doing so.

Once a Queen is a a lovely story with Christian worldview underpinnings, despite all of the secrets and slow revelations, and I highly recommend it to lovers of high fantasy and adventure stories. The novel is set up for a sequel, perhaps many sequels, and indeed there is a “sneak preview” of the next book in the series that is printed in the back of of this first book. The next book is to be called Once a Castle, and I look forward to its publication. (Once a Queen is complete in itself, and does not end in a cliffhanger.) Recommended for ages 12 and up.