Marjorie Liu and Jason Aaron’s “Star Wars: Han Solo” collects “Han Solo” #1-5 written by Liu, penciled by Mark Brooks, inked by Brooks and Dexter Vines, colored by Sonia Oback and Matt Milla, lettered by Joe Caramanga, with cover art by Lee Bermejo, Tula Lotay, Olivier Coipel, and Kamome Shirahama as well as “Star Wars” #8-12 written by Aaron, penciled by Stuart Immonen, inked by Wade von Grawbadger, colored by Justin Ponsor, lettered by Chris Eliopoulos, with covers by Stuart Immonen, von Grawbadger, and Ponsor. The first five issues from the “Han Solo” miniseries focus on Han and Chewbacca entering the Dragon Void race as cover to pick up Alliance spies within the first year after the Battle of Yavin. They do this as a secret mission for Princess Leia in a story that explores Han’s morality and sense of duty. The story evokes Brian Daley’s “Han Solo Adventures” from the late 1970s, though using the current aesthetic of the “Star Wars” galaxy. The “B” story, from “Star Wars” #8-12, alternates between Han Solo and Leia Organa’s encounter with Sana Starros, who claims to be Han Solo’s wife and wants to collect the bounty of Leia, and Luke Skywalker traveling to Nar Shadda seeking a covert way to Coruscant in order to learn more about the Jedi. The Han/Leia/Sana story has the types of romantic misunderstandings that characterize Han and Leia’s relationship in the Original Trilogy. Meanwhile, the Luke story affords a deeper look at Luke’s process of learning more about the Jedi and the Force following Ben Kenobi’s death but prior to his trip to Dagobah. In this, it resembles elements of Kevin Hearne’s “Heir to the Jedi.” The addition of these stories to the “Han Solo” collected book feel somewhat disjointed. They work well as “Star Wars” books, but are tonally and thematically different than the “Han Solo” series. That being said, fans of the Original Trilogy will enjoy this collection and its character-driven stories.

David Stabler’s “What Is the Story of Captain Picard?” explores the fictional biography of the captain of the U.S.S. Enterprise NCC-1701-D as well as the making of “Star Trek: The Next Generation” and its place in the “Star Trek” franchise, past and future. Stabler notes how Gene Roddenberry and the “TNG” writers chose Picard’s name in honor of brothers Jean Felix and Auguste Piccard, Swiss chemists and balloonists, while basing Picard’s personality on C.S. Forester’s Horatio Hornblower. He explores the development of the other main characters on “TNG,” notable adversaries, and some of Picard’s greatest adventures. Pointing the way forward, Stabler discusses the character’s legacy and how it influenced spin-off series “Star Trek: Picard” in 2020, the second season of which was in production at the time Stabler wrote. He concludes, “Today, it is impossible to imagine ‘Star Trek’ without Picard” (p. 106). This book will appeal to young Trekkers looking for a convenient reference work as they learn more about “Star Trek” or to parents who want to introduce their children to the franchise. It also nicely compliments the non-fiction biographies in this series and would go well alongside books on science and aviation pioneers like “Who Were the Tuskegee Airmen?”, “Who Was Neil Armstrong?”, “Who Was Jacques Cousteau?”, “Who Were The Wright Brothers?”, and “Who Was Galileo?” or titles focused on entertainers like “Who Was Chuck Jones?”, “Who Was Lucille Ball?”, “Who Is Stan Lee?”, and “Who Is George Lucas?”. Another book in the “What Is the Story” series focuses on Captain Kirk.

Rosa Carr’s “Air Fay” tells the story of Aria, who finds herself transported to the world of Fairy without any memory of who she is or where she came from. Encountering Laredo, another Fairy with secrets of his own, she learns more about the world and begins to uncover secrets of her past and her destiny. Carr crafts a detailed world of Fae that can exist parallel to our own human world, though the writing is occasionally wooden and the conflicts occasionally feel forced to achieve a plot goal rather than the actions of well-rounded characters. Specifically, Laredo’s sullen moods read as clichéd efforts to create conflict or remove him from the story for ease of plot and his big secret is all-too-obvious for following well-worn tropes. Despite these weaknesses, Carr’s writing shines in the third act when her characters reach their central conflict. The action and world-building reads as much more believable while the characters’ actions feel natural. “Air Fay” will entertain middle readers who enjoy fantasy and is likely to find an audience among those looking for something new at the library.

In “American Born Chinese,” Gene Luen Yang alternates between a fictionalized account of his youth, the story of the Monkey King from Wu Cheng’en’s “Journey to the West,” and a satirical account of Chin-Kee, who represents the unkind way that Anglo-Americans view Chinese and Asian immigrants as well as personifying the identity that Chinese-Americans seek to repudiate in order to be seen as more than their ethnicity. His use of humor and dynamic character designs will help this story reach all audiences and give them a greater understanding of the immigrant and first-generation experience, though filtered through Yang’s unique perspective. Disney+ recently adapted this series, but they left out Chin-Kee. Even though the character fulfills a valuable narrative purpose, such an overtly racist caricature would not work well for a corporate streaming service’s production.

Literally the worst book. The plot was all over the place with spelling and grammar issues throughout.

In “The Pharaoh Key,” Douglas Preston & Lincoln Child pick up with Gideon Crew who learns that his medical condition and its associated death sentence continue to hang over his head. Meanwhile, his former employer – Eli Glinn, of Effective Engineering Solutions – has shut down the company following their most recent mission. Gideon and his coworker, Manuel Garza, are given the chance to clear out the remainder of their property from the office. Garza fumes over the unceremonious end to their jobs while Gideon feels apathetic. They learn that a computer program recently decrypted the Phaistos Disc, an ancient object with unknown writing and symbols. Thinking that it holds the secret to a treasure and wanting some last measure of security, Garza and Gideon heist the translation and plan an expedition to recover and sell whatever treasure the disc leads them to. They travel to a remote region of Egypt and find more and more complications, from disasters surrounding their means of travel to a compelling Lara Croft-type character named Imogen Blackburn to the discovery of an extant Coptic village in a mist valley cut off from the outside world. The story is a great adventure story from Preston & Child, masters of the thriller. They instantly drop the reader in the adventure, making them care about these characters while they take them from cliffhanger to cliffhanger. The story has a great MacGuffin that works well as a main subject for the quest while Imogen Blackburn nicely balances out the Gideon-Garza dynamic. Even as the twists and turns resemble an adventure serial, Preston & Child keep the reader involved and pay off their MacGuffin in a satisfying way. David W. Collins does an admirable job reading the story, creating distinct voices for each character with particular emphasis on Garza’s NYC accent. The story will appeal to fans of Gideon Crew and to Preston & Child’s writing.

James Sturm and Joe Sutphin’s adaptation of Richard Adams’ “Watership Down.” The story faithfully retells the tale of a group of rabbits who seek a new home following the destruction of their warren, encountering other creatures, rabbits from different warrens, and elements of the human world that take on monstrous forms in the minds of the rabbits. The rabbits have their own mythology, though the allegory of their adventures was inspired by Adams’ experiences in the Battle of Arnhem in 1944. Sturm and Sutphin’s adaptation uses the graphic medium to visually capture the scale of the rabbits’ world as well as their emotions. Their adaptation will serve as a nice introduction to new readers or a supplementary volume for teachers incorporating “Watership Down” into their classroom syllabi.

Meg Cabot’s “Black Canary: Ignite” features art by Cara McGee, colors by Caitlin Quirk, and letters by Clayton Cowles. The story focuses on a middle-school-aged Dinah Lance who plays in a band with her friends Kat Van Dorn and Vee Ramirez. Dinah wants to eventually become a police officer like her father, but he worries about her as she begins showing signs of having powers when she can break things with her voice. Meanwhile, a mysterious figure lurks nearby observing her as a villain from Dinah’s mother’s past returns. Cabot delightfully introduces the Black Canary to a new generation of readers in this reimagining of the character. The story resembles the magical girl genre of manga, though with elements of punk rock akin to Marvel’s “Spider-Gwen.” McGee’s illustrations and Quirk’s colors perfectly match the energy of the story. This would be a fun book for DC fans to give to their younger children as well as to read themselves.

In “Docile: Memoirs of a Not-So-Perfect Asian Girl,” Hyeseung Song describes her life immigrating to Texas from Korea as a young child, growing up in poverty even while her family expects her to succeed. Her family struggles early on due to her father’s various failed business ideas and they only gain some security when her mother gets a job. The financial insecurity combined with her parents’ vastly different personalities leads to domestic violence, further adding to Hyeseung’s sense of uncertainty. Over time, she begins to make friends and find success at school, but her parents’ strict expectations leave her feeling adrift in her own home. She writes, “You learned love was entirely conditional, and you could vanish – even to your own mother – at any moment” (p. 72). Even getting into Princeton and succeeding at her classes isn’t enough to allay her feelings of displacement. Hyeseung writes, “Pinning everything on the nail of achievement had meant that failure was death and life was small. Ultimately, I had suffered anyway and my belief in this ontological structure had faltered” (p. 125). In her philosophy studies, Hyeseung found a way to describe what had been bothering her. She writes, “Descartes had devoted his life to locating contradictions and striking those that turned out to be false, in order to see if science were possible. But I wanted to know if I in any consistent way were possible. The solution up until then had been to amass achievement visible in both cultures, pursue a workable synthesis of beliefs, and shift my behavior depending on the local culture, while trying not to disappear through it all” (p. 165). Describing her mounting mental health struggles and how she perceived them during her combined law degree and philosophy PhD studies, Hyeseung writes, “My self-worth was tied to Work, as if Work were a star. Work and Worth were bound together and if one fell, then the other did, too” (p. 202). She links this to the added stress of her immigrant background and feelings of dual identities between her American and Korean cultural heritages, but this sense of self-worth will resonate with nearly anyone who has pursued graduate studies, particularly if their family treated their success or failure at these studies as reflective of the family’s worth. Hyeseung concludes, “In my life, I had tried to be a great daughter, a great student, a great wife, an American, a Korean, even a great artist – and through these pursuits, I had always chased an ought, forgetting to revel in what I actually already was” (p. 288). Song’s book will resonate with anyone who has felt torn between identities or struggled with their mental health. In particular, those with extensive experience in academia cannot help but find themselves in her words. Her honest narrative is a moving read for anyone who finds themselves feeling lost without the words to articulate the feeling.

James Tynion IV’s “The Sandman Universe: Nightmare Country – The Glass House” collects the first six issues of the “Sandman” spin-off comic as well as “The Sandman Universe Special: Thessaly” #1 featuring art by Lisandro Estherren, Patricio Delpeche, and Maria Llovet, colors by Delpeche and Llovet, letters by Simon Bowland, and covers by Reiko Murakami. In the story, the new Corinthian and the cat that was Madison Flynn investigate the Prophet organization and its connections to a new club, The King of Pain. The angel Moroni continues to work to spread the life story of Madison in order to attain new power while the owner of The King of Pain, Azazel, seeks to tempt the Corinthian to embrace his old ways. Drawn into the investigation, Thessaly finds herself an unlikely ally of Lucien, Madison, and the Corinthian, though she remains at odds with the Dream King. The story reveals that all of these occurrances connect to the larger conflict between Dream and Desire, with Desire launching their plan back during the events of “Three Septembers and a January” from “The Sandman” #31. These additions to the Sandman Universe continue to expand the world beyond Neil Gaiman’s original epic, though Dream only makes minor appearances so as to leave his narrative largely intact should Gaiman return at a later date. Tynion ably adds to the larger meta-narrative than began in the 1990s with various “Sandman” spin-offs. This second volume resolves much of a story points from the first volume, though it leaves the door open to continue exploring Desire’s plans. The ending may strike some readers as abrupt, however. Hopefully the larger narrative of Dream and Desire continues to play out in future volumes.