Starred Review If you read the New York Times' "Metropolitan Diary," you'll likely recognize artist Lee's minimalist, often whimsical illustrations that have been gracing that section (and others) since 2018. Her graphic novel is a gorgeous, resonating, even mystical creation with little text, overflowing with unsaid feelings. Lee begins with poignant hints: "For Andrew . . . who I miss every day" and then a wordless opening spread with "Day 1" on the left, an empty beach on the right. A girl with a backpack is in constant motion, checking her watch, usually hurrying, occasionally cursing and struggling. Days pass, spurred on by a recurring worry of being late. The blues overlaid on black-and-white panels are replaced with brown, signaling a flashback to when she was younger, remembering another "mak-dae-gi" (stick, in Korean) she discovered on a fall outing with her mother and sister. More days pass, with occasional brown flashbacks that reveal a name t d the making of the Korean staple kimchi metimes delicious, sometimes the cause of frustration. When panels become tinged in sienna, a parallel narrative starts to weave into the passing days: a mother, sister, brother, and cat are in mourning, trying to move on with their lives. Gently, nudgingly, Lee brilliantly intertwines the past, present, and future together over 49 days. Lee's author's note reveals the foundation of her extraordinary debut.

Invoking a Korean Buddhist tradition stating that “a person’s soul remains in a state between life and rebirth for 49 days before they can move on to the next life,” debut creator Lee chronicles the journey of Korean American Kit, who wakes up on a beach and soon begins traveling toward an unknown destination. Kit’s first few attempts to leave the shore result in apparent death—via drowning, heat exhaustion, a tumble, and more—before she begins the cycle anew. As Kit becomes more adept in her survival skills, subsequent days see her journeying through mountain ranges and traipsing across rivers. Interspersed throughout Kit’s travels, which are rendered in ink and grayscale washes, are bright orange vignettes depicting recollections of her death and memories from her childhood as well as somber red-toned panels rendering scenes of her family—including her umma, younger brother Tae Soo, and older sister Sam—and friends processing their grief. With spare text and effective use of negative space, Lee crafts a deeply moving exploration of life after death, making peace with regret and life’s inevitabilities, and learning how to move on. Ages 12–up. Agent: Abigail Frank, Greenburger Assoc. (Mar.)

Gr 8 Up— The story of a lost soul on a journey through the afterlife. Startled awake on a wide stretch of beach, a young woman treks across sand and rocks, trying to get her bearings and find a way across the incoming tide, but she gets swallowed by the sea. Waking to the same predicament repeatedly in an endless purgatory, she always loses herself to the sea and regains consciousness again as the sole inhabitant of the beach. By day 20, she hits her breaking point after attempts to end this unreal existence prove useless. Utterly alone and helpless, she sits with memory and lets it overtake her, reliving the events that brought her here. Kit misses her family; her mother, siblings, and friends mourn in their own ways, reaching towards Korean tradition and the healing power of shared food and Buddhist prayer. Settling into acceptance, Kit discovers a boat to traverse the final stretch of her journey that culminates on the 49th day. This debut by The New York Times "Metropolitan Diary" illustrator is told in simple, bold lines and sparse words, reflecting pensive solitude and the isolation of grief. The story is meditative and cathartic but not ponderous or overwrought. Lee's deliberately enigmatic style means there is not a great deal of differentiation between the siblings, which makes distinguishing individual characters challenging at times. VERDICT Although the protagonist is a college student, middle and high school readers will relate to the universal experiences of love, loss, and family tradition. Recommended, especially for libraries that serve the AAPI community.— Rebecca Jung