THE POETRY OF CAR MECHANICS

When 15-year-old Dylan discovers an injured red-tailed hawk in the woods where he watches birds and writes poetry, he’s forced to examine the complicated fractures running through his life.

In her layered novel in verse, Stemple creates a world where mechanical expertise and poetic sensitivity intertwine, grounded by characters who reveal unexpected depths. Initially coming across as harsh and unlikable, Dylan’s rigidly old-fashioned and judgmental grandfather reveals a surprisingly caring and protective streak when it matters most. White-presenting Dylan emerges as a genuine protagonist; while helping in his grandfather’s auto shop, he learns that “cars are easier than people” as he carries the weight of his mother’s absence and unpredictable mental illness. His keen observations reveal both deep-seated grief and unspoken fears about inheritance, particularly as he grapples with the harsh reality that “nature is cruel / to broken creatures.” Through his investigation of the injured hawk, Dylan confronts questions about brokenness—in nature, in his mother, and perhaps in himself. Though his solitude isn’t entirely by choice (former friendships dissolved following his mother’s public actions), a growing friendship with Peregrine Rodriguez, a raptor rehabilitator’s daughter, offers a promising glimpse of connection. As he navigates small-town living, Dylan starts to recognize how people, like the birds he admires, contain both vulnerability and strength.

A well-crafted exploration of healing that will remind readers that everyone’s story has wings waiting to unfold.