The Faraway Inn

The Faraway Inn
by Sarah Beth Durst
Recommended Ages: 14+

Calisa needs to get away from New York for the summer after her junior year in high school. She just caught her boyfriend cheating on her, and lying to her, and she needs time away from anything that reminds her of him. Nursing her heartbreak, she travels to her great aunt's bed and breakfast in the Vermont woods, only to be told she can't stay. Auntie Zee, whom she hasn't seen since she was a little girl, is pretty brusque about it. And the place looks like it's about to fall down.

Fighting back against being sent straight home, Calisa makes herself useful. She cooks. She cleans. She helps the groundskeeper's son, an unnervingly cute boy named Jack, about whom the least thought the better because a rebound relationship totally isn't what she needs right now. And little by little, the place starts looking better, and the handful of eccentric guests seem a bit happier, and Auntie Zee says less and less about sending Calisa back home. And also, Calisa starts noticing weird things going on around the place. Weird things like, maybe, magic. Magic like, maybe, doorways doing double duty – closets one day, portals to another dimension the next. By the time she cottons to the lizard who imprints on her actually being a dragon, and the front hallway having both a magic mirror and a magic teapot in it, and the guests including a dryad, a wizard and a sea witch, Calisa is perilously close to discovering why the Faraway Inn is failing and what she can do – has to do – if it's going to continue being a refuge, an excape, that people from all kinds of strange places really need.

I've read a few of Sarah Beth Durst's many books, including one of her cozy fantasies, The Spellshop. And I've dipped my toe into the cozy fantasy genre just often enough to pick up on one of its persistent themes, as sure to show up as octopus imagery in steampunk: representation for alternative identities and family structures that rule this cultural moment. I feel I owe it to faith-oriented families who are concerned about what the character of the material they share with their children to send up a mild Adult Content Advisory about it. But it's mild, perhaps because this is Durst's first foray into YA cozy fantasy, which (in her afterword) she designed around the idea that teens, too, sometimes need a safe place to escape to. Also mild, but worth mentioning, is an Occult Content Advisory because, well, Calisa and her auntie are witches and there is some magic in the book, albeit of the "only in a fantasy novel" variety.

The only other advisory I want to post here is "You may feel like you've been here before." I mean, if the idea of a B&B being a nexus of interdimensional portals gives you a sense of déjà vu, it's true that I've also reviewed Clete Barrett Smith's "Intergalactic Bed & Breakfast" trilogy and Cerberus Jones' "The Gateway" series, which are based on closely adjacent concepts, though skewing a bit more toward science fiction. When Calisa walks through a portal, though, she isn't traveling to a different planet; just a different "realm," whatever that means. Also, the kids in this kids' book are a bit older – old enough to have a romance brewing between them that could be fun to read about, if you're a kid of a certain age and aren't grossed out by kissy stuff. It's a warm, comforting, kind book with no dramatic stakes beyond whether some people will end up happy. And it has a point-of-view character who makes jaw-dropping discoveries, not only about what's going on around her, but about the power within herself.

Sarah Beth Durst's other titles include The Girl Who Could Not Dream, The Shelterlings, Spy Ring and The Warbler, as well as going-on-three sequels to The Spellshop including one, due out next year, called The Magical Cheese Emporium. Even if there's no other incentive to catch up on my reading, a title like that ought to do it.