{"product_id":"when-tomorrow-burns-isbn-9780593485590","title":"When Tomorrow Burns","description":"\u003cb\u003eThree middle school students embark on a quest to find a book that may just save their lives in this spectacular novel about fate and friendship--from the Newbery Award-winning author of \u003ci\u003eWhen You Trap a Tiger\u003c\/i\u003e.\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e Once there was a tree. For two hundred years, there was a tree. There was a tree. There was a tree. Until the tree fell in a forest--and then there was a book.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhen best friends Nomi, Vi, and Arthur were younger, they discovered a book of prophecies. It was so very comforting to know what was coming. But as the kids grew older, they forgot about the book.\u003cbr\u003e    Until the final prophecy started coming true. \u003cbr\u003e    Now, as seventh grade tests their friendship and wildfires threaten Seattle, the final prophecy promises fire and destruction. Nomi tries everything to prevent calamity. The only problem? She needs help...but Vi's acting strange and Arthur stopped talking to her. \u003cbr\u003e    Vi can't tell Nomi, but she's been texting the coolest boy in school, and it's going well--until that boy makes an unexpected request, and she must decide who she wants to be.\u003cbr\u003e    Meanwhile, Arthur joined the cross-country team, but he can't outrun the real reason he ended his friendship with Nomi. The best he can do is try to hide it.\u003cbr\u003e    As the prophecy escalates, past and present intersect, fate and friendship collide, and secrets spread like wildfire. Together, Nomi, Vi, and Arthur must face the future...even, and especially when it's so uncertain.★ \"The result is a complex, carefully woven exploration of fate, autonomy, power, privilege, identity, and friendship. \u003cb\u003eAs beautiful and intricate as the rings of an ancient tree\u003c\/b\u003e.\" \u003cbr\u003e—\u003ci\u003eKirkus Reviews\u003c\/i\u003e, starred review\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e★ \"[Keller] elegantly and movingly captures that fleeting and transformative period of the tween years....This is \u003cb\u003ea beautiful testament to interdependence and resilience\u003c\/b\u003e.\" \u003cbr\u003e—\u003ci\u003eThe Horn Book\u003c\/i\u003e, starred review\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Threading a grounded story following three tweens on the precipice of change with adroit musings about climate disaster, misogyny, and the cyclical patterns of history, Keller delivers \u003cb\u003ea moving, clear-eyed exhortation on the necessity of community\u003c\/b\u003e.\"\u003cbr\u003e—\u003ci\u003ePublishers Weekly\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“\u003cb\u003eCaptivatingly thoughtful, utterly unforgettable, and singularly brillian\u003c\/b\u003et. Part probing exploration of prophecy, part searing call to action, part pitch-perfect rendering of middle school dynamics—all woven into a masterful tapestry. I haven’t stopped thinking about it since I read it. Tae Keller is one of my absolute favorite writers, and this just might be her best work yet.”\u003cbr\u003e—Jasmine Warga, #1 \u003ci\u003eNew York Times \u003c\/i\u003ebestselling and Newbery Honor–winning author\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“\u003cb\u003eAnother unforgettable novel\u003c\/b\u003e from one of my favorite authors. I loved Nomi, Arthur, and Vi. I have a prophecy that readers will love them, too.”\u003cbr\u003e—Erin Entrada Kelly, two-time Newbery Medalist and National Book Award finalist\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“In our uncertain world, Tae Keller’s\u003cb\u003e tender and powerful novel\u003c\/b\u003e explores the impact of stories, friendship, and ultimately, hope.”\u003cbr\u003e—Lisa Yee, Newbery Honor winner and National Book Award finalist\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Tae Keller hopes \u003ci\u003eWhen Tomorrow Burns\u003c\/i\u003e will offer readers ‘a resting place for big feelings and big questions,’ and wow, does it ever. Keller’s writing brims with empathy and compassion as her characters endure excruciating embarrassments, messy friendships, and the myriad complications of growing up in the twenty-first century. \u003cb\u003eA story as lovely as the mystery woven throughout it\u003c\/b\u003e, \u003ci\u003eWhen Tomorrow Burns\u003c\/i\u003e will be a spark in the dark for young readers everywhere.”\u003cbr\u003e—Megan E. Freeman, \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“\u003ci\u003eWhen Tomorrow Burns\u003c\/i\u003e is for anyone who’s ever sensed a whisper of magic in a tree, a book, a friendship—or anyone who wants to. \u003cb\u003eI loved it\u003c\/b\u003e.”\u003cbr\u003e—Elana K. Arnold, National Book Award finalist and Printz Honor–winning authorTae Keller is the Newbery Award-winning and \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author of \u003ci\u003eWhen You Trap A Tiger\u003c\/i\u003e and \u003ci\u003eThe Science of Breakable Things\u003c\/i\u003e. She was born and raised in Honolulu, where she grew up on purple rice, Spam musubi, and her halmoni's stories. After high school, she moved in search of snow, and now lives in Seattle.Nomi\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eUntil September 5th, the day the gray rolled in and choked Seattle’s sky with ash, Nomi had almost forgotten about the prophecy.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTo be clear, Nomi was not the kind of kid who believed in prophecies. She didn’t suspect things. She didn’t have hunches. She believed in things that could be proven with evidence, cold and hard as fact.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd on that morning, September 5th, day of the gray, prophetic, et cetera, et cetera, she was thinking of facts.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFact: She’d ridden the city bus to school alone that morning, which meant Arthur was either sleeping, or sick, or faking sick—­not that she cared, because she was definitively not friends with Arthur.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFact: The route from her apartment to school contained four billboards. Two of them were for some kind of insurance. One was a phone number to speak to Jesus. And the last was a digital billboard outside an Amazon building. The exact word or phrase changed every few weeks, but it was always vague and didn’t seem to advertise anything in particular.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFor the past two weeks, ever since seventh grade started, it had said breathe, which had felt, before today, like an unnecessary reminder, and now felt moderately tragic, considering the sky was filled with smoke.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFact: Nomi got off the bus to find Violet, as usual, scrolling through her phone, as usual, sitting under the old oak tree, as usual, the same one they’d sat under since first grade. And then Nomi actually \u003ci\u003edid\u003c\/i\u003e cease to breathe, because Violet looked different—­and change always made Nomi’s heart skip a step.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWalking up to Violet, she searched for breath, searched for words. “Do you have a piano recital?” she finally asked, attempting to lighten her voice as she gestured to her best friend’s outfit.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eViolet didn’t answer right away, but that was normal for her. Unlike Nomi, Violet always thought things through about six times before she spoke. It was what made them a good pair.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eViolet’s lips quirked like she was trying not to laugh, and she slid her phone into her backpack. (Normally she would’ve slid it into her pocket, but she couldn’t, considering she’d swapped her everyday jeans for a pocketless pink skirt.) “It’s been over a year since I played piano. You know that.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“But then . . . why . . .” Nomi could not say, \u003ci\u003eWhy do you look so different?\u003c\/i\u003e so she said, “. . . the pink?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“No reason.” Violet tucked a strand of shiny black hair behind her ear and smoothed her hand over her outfit, like she was reminding herself it was there. Pink striped skirt, pink shirt—­no, pink \u003ci\u003eblouse\u003c\/i\u003e—­pink headband, pink wedge heels. “Haven’t you ever changed something just because?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNomi had been best friends with Violet long enough to develop a sixth sense. She knew when Violet was about to catch a cold. She knew when Violet was annoyed with her little sister, Blue. And she always, always knew when Violet was lying.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNomi gave Violet a look.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I’m not lying,” Violet lied. “There’s nothing to worry about.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd that was when Nomi remembered the prophecy.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe hadn’t thought about it in years, but now it blotted her mind like light on night-­soaked retinas. It was all she could think about.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe grabbed Violet’s wrist, concern over a new outfit blooming into something larger. “The book said this would happen.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFor a few seconds, the only expression on Violet’s face was confusion. Then her eyes widened. “Nomi. Absolutely not—­”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut Nomi wasn’t listening.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhat were the chances Violet would trade in her jeans and Target T-shirts the exact same day the wildfires started? Statistically unlikely! Slim to none! Which meant it couldn’t be a coincidence.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe final prophecy was coming true. Nomi didn’t suspect it. She knew it.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFact.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNomi\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eYears ago, in the Museum of Lost and Found, Nomi, Violet, and Arthur had discovered a book that told the future.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOf course, they hadn’t known that it told the future. Not at first.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eArthur had said, \u003ci\u003eUgh, poetry.\u003c\/i\u003e And Violet had said, \u003ci\u003eAn old diary. That’s nice.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut Nomi had been captivated. It was her favorite thing she’d ever seen in the museum.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOne of Arthur’s dads, Anthony, had started the museum by collecting pieces of artwork abandoned on the street—­near trash cans, on stoops, in piles of recycling.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“It’s like ‘one person’s trash is another person’s treasure,’ ” Nomi’s mom had said, “but Anthony made it literal.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eLots of people wanted their art to be treasured, as it turned out, because soon enough artists started leaving paintings, sculptures, and poems by the gallery doors, like blanketed babies by a firehouse. The museum grew until it took over the whole first floor of Arthur’s apartment, and it became one of the most popular galleries in downtown ­Seattle.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTo be perfectly honest, Nomi had decided a long time ago that she didn’t \u003ci\u003eget\u003c\/i\u003e art, and though Arthur’s dads tried to explain it (\u003ci\u003eArt is about becoming,\u003c\/i\u003e Anthony always said), the museum gave Nomi the strangest, most uncomfortable feeling. Because the artists could be anybody. She could pass them on the street and have no idea, and that thought gave her a spindly-­tingling sensation.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut the book—­\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIt was Arthur who’d pulled it off the shelf. “Look what showed up last night,” he’d said. Back then, he was always showing them things, eager and nervous like he cared what they thought.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThey were buzzing with energy. Anything would’ve excited Nomi, probably.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut the book was another level.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThere was something about it. Maybe it was the old leather binding and the crinkly, browned paper that said, \u003ci\u003eThis is old, like, ancient.\u003c\/i\u003e Maybe it was the way the scrawled entries were written in faded blue ink, or the way the handwriting was just barely legible, which made each line feel like a puzzle, or the way the little poems and phrases had the lilt and tilt of fantastical prophecies.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe knew it was silly, but as she read them, the hairs on her neck stood up. She wouldn’t call it magic—­she would \u003ci\u003enever\u003c\/i\u003e—­but there was something there that she couldn’t quite describe.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd then the little poems started coming true.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eIn pea–green pockets, promises of tomorrow.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNomi found an old pop quiz in her green coat, and the next day their teacher surprised them with another one.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eWhen leaves flutter, too high to climb, too far to fall.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eViolet tried to help her dad clean the gutters in the fall, and then fell off the ladder, spraining her ankle.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eA taste of something new, and something blue.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eArthur’s other dad, Brian, arrived at dinner one night with a brand-­new flavor of ice cream: blue bubble gum.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThese might’ve seemed like coincidences if they hadn’t happened so often, with the prophecies coming true in order, one after the other, reliable and undeniable.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBefore the book, Nomi’s life had been unpredictable. Her mom had gotten laid off, making money troubles even more troubling. Then they’d had to move to a smaller apartment. And then the pandemic had shut the world down.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAfter the book, though, the future became something she could plan for. It became safe. Trustworthy.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eUntil that final page.","brand":"Random House Books for Young Readers","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":48233845784805,"sku":"NP9780593485590","price":20.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780593485590.jpg?v=1767743996","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/es\/products\/when-tomorrow-burns-isbn-9780593485590","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}