I have been trying to get my hands on the audio of this since it was first released. I tried reading it before, but I just didn’t care for Rumi and couldn’t get past like the third chapter. But reading it in another format made all the difference.
This is a very heavy read. I remember getting so invested in this that I was talking to my computer while it was playing. And once when I was completing some work while it was on, I had tears just streaming down my cheeks. Definitely be ready or have the right head space when you get ready to read this.
As for the characters, I liked the characters, but Rumi was a bit much for me. I know she was depressed and upset and grieving, but she just seemed selfish. It was like she was the only one who could be upset about what happened and her mom couldn’t; that her mom being upset and shutting down was automatically about her, and not just because her mom was upset about it as well. I know depression doesn’t make sense, but I still think she could have given her mom some slack. But out of all of them, I really loved Mr. Watanabe.
I did love the representation though! I don’t know the last time I read a book about a aromantic/asexual (questioning) character. And to see how she dealt with the “relationship” made me happy. I loved seeing that Kai didn’t get upset with her, even if that’s not exactly what he wanted. I loved that he made it all about her, and not him.
I also really loved the setting. It was set in beautiful Hawaii that seemed like a really light and tropical. I think it went better with the darkness of the subject and the plot. It made the already really dark book a little lighter. To me, I thought it worked really well.
This book has some really great things and some things I didn’t really care for. I can see this being a favorite for some, but to me, it was just a really good, emotional read. It was hard for me to look past some things, and for that I couldn’t give it the complete 5 stars like everyone else.

Really adored this book. The author has a wonderful talent when it comes to making her readers emotionally attached to the story and main character.

I absolutely adored Summer Bird Blue. I wish I had had a book like this when I was younger to help me through some similar feelings. I can't wait to get my hands on Starfish and any future titles from Akemi!

Summer Bird Blue confronts the complexity and tragedy of teenage grief.
When her sister suddenly dies, Rumi is left to pick of the pieces of not just one, but two shattered dreams for the future. Easier said than done, Rumi must learn to live with her guilt of surviving....only then is she able to cope with the loss of her sister through their love for music.

Summer Bird Blue is poignant and emotional; it's a true examination of the rawness of grief and the senselessness that often accompanies loss through the eyes of a young protagonist.

I would wholeheartedly recommend.

Incredibly beautiful and breathtaking, profound look at life, death, grief and moving on. I was truly speechless after reading this.

I'm really sad to say that this book didn't work for me. Her writing style just doesn't mesh with what I like to read. However, I was overjoyed by the ace rep and I'm really glad we're getting to see more of it. I could see how others would love this book and I think the problem was all me.

Summer Bird Blue is a summer book, as the title suggests, but it's not at all fluffy. Instead, it's a meditative story about grief, loss, family, healing, and identity. And definite trigger warnings for those first two, because at the very beginning of the book, Rumi's younger sister dies in a car accident. What follows are raw sadness and emotions captured well in Bowman's writing as Rumi is sent off to Hawaii to live with her aunt for the summer.

I enjoyed the flashbacks and insight into her life with Lea, especially as it changed as the book went on because her psychological state and processing of the event changed. The flashbacks allowed Lea and their relationship to feel real, preventing her from being too much of a plot point. I admit I was confused about their mother for a bit...there seemed to be contradictory information and I never quite got enough information to fully understand why Rumi felt the way she did about her. Thankfully, that also ended up coming to a satisfying conclusion. That said, I felt the novel as a whole (just under 400 pages) was a bit too long for what it covered?

Music is a huge part of Rumi's life. She and Lea planned to start a band together and the two wrote songs together--their last idea was "Summer Bird Blue"--but since Lea's death, Rumi struggles to get into it. I'm really into music myself, and I loved the descriptions of it and Rumi's creativity. I also really enjoyed her interactions with the old man Mr. Watanabe, as they strike up an unusual but important friendship over grief, healing, and music. Also, there's a dog!

I was really glad this took place in Hawaii and included the culture and mixed population there (several of the characters have Japanese ancestry). There are unfortunately not many novels set in Hawaii, even though a lot of publishing is US-based and it is a part of the US. As a nerd, I loved that the pidgin language was including, as I remember reading about that aspect of Hawaii in a linguistics class, although I can't speak to its accuracy.

Lastly, one of the defining aspects of Summer Bird Blue is sexuality. Rumi thinks she's asexual and aromantic, but she feels a lot of pressure to know for certain, especially since mortality is so clear to her. This definitely resonates with a lot of LGBTQIAP+ folks, including myself. The novel explores a possible relationship but ultimately it's a story about friendship, which we just don't see enough in YA. I also really appreciated how Rumi frequently calls out heteronormativity, too, which was great.

Summer Bird Blue is a raw and painfully sad book, but one that ultimately is about healing and figuring yourself out, and it's a worthwhile addition to the YA marketplace.

Rumi has had a hard life, especially since her father left her, her sister Lea, and her mother years ago. Her mother has to work long hours and sometimes two jobs in order to make ends meet. Rumi and Lea are inseparable and often perform and write music together, until the day Lea is tragically killed in a car accident. Rumi is shipped off to Hawaii to live with her Aunt Ani while her mother grieves alone. Rumi is so angry at her mother and her situation that she treats her aunt and her Hawaiian neighbors horribly. Little does she know that these people she barely knows will play a big part in teaching her about life, love, and moving on.
This was such a difficult book for me to finish because it was so sad. The way the author described the characters' emotions was very poignant and made me tear up from time to time, especially at the end. The writing was descriptive and the characters seemed so realistic that I felt like I was there watching everything take place. I didn't like how angry Rumi was for most of the book, but I can understand why she was. My favorite characters were Kai and Mr. Watanabe. They were so funny and kind to Rumi, even though she wasn't lovable most of the time. I didn't care for the profanity, especially all of the f-bombs. I do recommend this book to anyone who wants to take an honest look at grief, which this book does very well.
I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher through NetGalley. A positive review was not required, and all opinions expressed are entirely my own.

Rumi's little sister Lea was her best friend, her musical collaborator, a cheerful ball of sunshine who pushed her to be a better, less grumpy person. Then Lea died. Then Rumi's mother, consumed by her own grief, shipped Rumi off to Hawaii to spend the summer with her aunt. Rumi's seething rage consumes her, until her new neighbors (one ridiculously cute boy and one crabby old man) start to crack her shell of anger. Rumi struggles to write one last song for Lea, come to terms with her asexuality, and learn to live in a world without Lea. Deeply moving, messy, and real portrayal of grief.

Akemi Dawn Bowman’s Summer Bird Blue is a heartbreakingly beautiful story about grief and how to come to terms with the loss of a loved one, especially when that loved one is the person that you’re closest to in the whole world. Rumi Seto and her younger sister Lea are like two peas in a pod. They’re best friends and they both share a passion for music. They spend most of their time writing songs together and dream of making music together for a living when they’re older. But then tragedy strikes and Lea dies in a car accident.
Rumi is overcome with grief and is struggling to cope. Then things get even worse because without any warning or explanation, Rumi’s mother decides to send her away to stay with her aunt in Hawaii for the summer. Rumi is hurt and confused – shouldn’t they be trying to work through their grief together? All they have left is each other and now her own mother doesn’t want her around? Rumi doesn’t know how she’s going to get through this on her own, or for that matter, if she will be able to get through this. The sense of loss that she feels is so crushing that she can’t even bear to play music anymore because it just makes her heart ache so much.

Rumi arrives in Hawaii feeling so lost and angry that she immediately begins lashing out at everyone around her, especially her aunt and her aunt’s neighbors. Everyone around her sees the pain that she is in and they want to help in any way they can, including a very persistent teenage surfer named Kai. He is determined to break down the walls Rumi has built up around herself. Will Rumi let him, or anyone else, in?


Summer Bird Blue has so many qualities that I love in a contemporary novel. I could probably write about my LIKES for days, but I’ll try to restrain myself to a few highlights so I don’t accidentally spoil anything.
Rumi, of course, was a favorite from the beginning. I loved seeing her interact with her sister, especially their song writing drill where they come up with three random words and then compose a song around those three words. They were clearly about as close as two sisters could possibly be, so it was absolutely heartwrenching when the car accident took Lea away from Rumi.

I also thought Bowman did a beautiful job portraying all the emotions that Rumi was feeling after her sister’s death. The grief, the frustration, the anger and the confusion – it’s all just so palpable. Some may find Rumi somewhat abrasive and unlikable because of the way she lashes out at everyone around her, but she is so clearly being crushed by this suffocating grief that I didn’t hold her words or her actions against her. It just all felt very real to me. I’m very close to my sister too and know that I would probably react the exact same way if I lost her the way Rumi lost Lea.

Bowman’s use of flashbacks was also very effective. She uses them to show memories that Rumi is reflecting on about her relationship with both her mother and her sister. We begin to see that although Rumi loved her sister more than life, their relationship was pretty complex and a lot of what Rumi is feeling is also guilt because she wasn’t always the nicest to Lea. There’s also an intricate dynamic between Rumi and her mom when it came to Lea that also sheds some light on why Rumi’s mom has seemingly abandoned her.

Summer Bird Blue also features a wonderful cast of secondary characters. My favorite was Mr. Watanabe, the elderly man who turns his garden hose on Rumi when she lashes out at him and his dog. After their initial contentious meeting, Mr. Watanabe becomes an unexpected source of emotional support for Rumi. His home, along with the music he listens to, becomes somewhat of a sanctuary for Rumi. Mr. Watanabe has also lost loved ones and so he understands that grieving is a process and that Rumi needs to work through it at her own pace. The friendship that develops between them is just lovely.

In addition to Mr. Watanabe, surfer dude Kai was also a favorite of mine. I loved his persistence, his sense of humor, and his free spirit. Kai can be kind of an adorable dork at times, but when it comes down to it, he’s there for Rumi whether she wants him to be or not.

The last thing I want to talk about is how wonderfully diverse Summer Bird Blue is. The entire cast of characters is multi-racial, and Bowman includes culture from every race that is represented. She does an exceptional job of sharing Hawaiian culture, in particular, and had me wanting to pack my suitcase and fly there.

In addition to being racially and culturally diverse, however, Summer Bird Blue is also diverse in that while she is trying to work through her grief and figure out who she even is without Lea, Rumi is also questioning and exploring her sexuality. She has never had any real interest in dating or in kissing anyone, and wonders why. She’s not interested in boys or girls in any way beyond friendship and finally begins to understand and embrace the idea that she is both asexual and aromantic.


Summer Bird Blue is one of those books that I could just gush about for days. Between it and Bowman’s earlier novel Starfish, she has become an auto buy author for me. Her books are just always so heartfelt and are filled with such well-drawn characters. Even when they make me cry, which both of these books did, they are a joy to read and I will never hesitant to recommend them to anyone who enjoys contemporary fiction.

Lovely. Haunting. Heartbreaking. I basically couldn't put this book down once I started it. Akemi's beautiful writing, rich characters, and excellent storytelling captured me and didn't let me go.

In a single car crash, Rumi loses the sister who is also her best friend, the future they had planned together as musicians, and the mother who can't cope with the loss of her daughter. Sent to stay with her aunt in Hawaii, Rumi's grief and resentment grow. Her sister didn't have any choice in leaving her, but her mother did. She can barely stand the sight of the instruments she and her sister used to play and even the thought of playing music again sends her reeling. But she's going to have to. Because she made a promise to her little sister to finish their last song... the song they were writing when Lea died. Rumi's uses her anger to keep everyone at a distance, but her new neighbors are the only two people who don't seem frightened of it. There's Kai, the surfer boy who can be almost as insensitive as she is, but is also weirdly endearing. And there's Mr. Watanabe, the reclusive old grouch who may be the only one really capable of understanding Rumi's insatiable anger and grief. Maybe, just maybe, with a few unlikely friendships and time, Rumi will finally be able to find her way back to the music she lost and the sister she loves.

Fair warning: bring tissues. This book is an emotional rollercoaster. If the dead little sister didn't give it away, I'm telling you hear. This book deals really heavily with loss and grief and anger and sometimes it feels a bit like a suckerpunch to the gut. And yet... it's also really lovely. The emotion feels so authentic. Even at her very worst, I can sympathise with Rumi and understand why she's acting in the way that she is. And the relationships between Rumi and Lea (through her memories and grief) as well as her blossoming friendships with Kai and Mr. Watanabe all feel so genuine and relatable. I have a sister, so I am very drawn to sister stories, but also probably a bit critical of them because of that. And this one gets it right. All the complexities of sisterhood and family. The love and the fighting and the competitiveness.

I love books with a really genuine arc of loss, grief, and recovery, and this book does it really well. I also love that while Rumi's relationships with Kai and Mr. Watanabe are influential in her recovery--as is the relationship with her aunt--it has more to do with the passage of time and her only journey than any one thing they say or do. Nobody is swooping in to save her. She has to find a way to do that--even clawing and fighting--herself. I also really love the way the possible romance subplot with Kai is handled in this. Rumi's confusion about her own orientation and her relationship with Kai was very much the C arc in a story with several more important ones, but it was handled thoughtfully. It's also kind of nice to read a book where characters can have deep and important relationships with friends and loved ones without prioritizing romantic relationships above them. Friends, sisters, aunts, mothers, can all be just as important-if not even more so-- than significant others. I feel like stories aren't always good at acknowledging that, but it's a really important point for Rumi, who isn't at all sure that she is interested in any kind of romantic relationship.

Basically, this book was just exceptionally wonderful. I fully plan to go read Starfish now, which if it is half as good as this I'm going to love it. If you're a fan of contemporary YA , particularly ones that explore loss and grief and recovery--like Goodbye-Days or We Are Okay--then this should be a must-read.

Akemi Dawn Bowman's debut, Starfish, is one of the best books I have ever read. It captured anxiety and teen emotions so brilliantly so I couldn't wait to read everything and anything by her. Summer Bird Blue, her sophomore novel, was just as gorgeous. Be prepared to be emotionally eviscerated with this one.

I'm not quite sure how Bowman does it, but her characters always feel real to me. She is a star at meticulously fleshing out her characters in such a way that makes them pop off the pages. In Summer Bird Blue, we are lucky enough to meet Rumi, whose story made every corner of my heart ache. To Rumi, her sister Leah and music are her whole life. When Leah dies in a car accident, her whole life is shattered. Throughout most of Summer Bird Blue, Rumi was grieving her sister and simmering in anger as she felt like her mom had abandoned her with her aunt in Hawaii. It was heartbreaking and Bowman made me feel every emotion that Rumi experienced. I'm not going to lie, this book was not always easy to read, but it's gorgeously written so it's also simultaneously hard to put down. Her anger, her sadness, and her guilt all hit me right in the heart.

In Hawaii, Rumi also met two people who slowly helped her move on a journey towards healing. Mr. Watanabe, her 80-year old neighbor with a yappy dog, was possibly my favorite. He was a grumpy old man who did not hold back his thoughts. He and Rumi form a special bond as a result of their losses and it made me happy that she had someone like him to help navigate the complicated time in her life. She also met a boy, Kai, who was just a breath of fresh air. He was kind to her and became an important friend. He also helped Rumi discover more about her identity, something that she struggled with quite a bit throughout Summer Bird Blue. This was the first book that I have read that depicted an aromatic and asexual teen. It was interesting to see this perspective of a young woman who really had no interest in dating or sex, but was also confused as to why she did not have those feelings. Kudos to Bowman for the great representation.

As you can imagine with a story like Summer Bird Blue, family was an important theme. Like all the other elements in this book, it was also deftly handled. Rumi's relationship with Leah was one of the best siblings relationships I have ever come across. There was jealousy, pride, admiration and l, ve between these girls and these were all depicted through flashbacks and Rumi's thoughts. The intricacies of her relationship with her mother were also beautifully touched upon throughout Summer Bird Blue. Then there was her aunt, who she barely knew growing up, but who became her pillar while her mother was away. I could just go on and on about how great all the relationships were in this book!

I can't recommend Summer Bird Blue highly enough. Yes, it's a tough story, but it's so worth it and I am really happy that teens have this book. At this point, I'm ready for more books by Akemi Dawn Bowman - it's going to be torturous having to wait for her next release!

Content warnings: car accident, death of a loved one, grief, depression

Akemi Dawn Bowman's debut, Starfish, was one of my favorite debuts of 2017. So, naturally, I knew I had to pick up her follow-up, Summer Bird Blue (even though I knew going in that this book would probably destroy me, and guess what? IT SURE DID). Summer Bird Blue is a poignant story about grief and processing the loss of someone you always expected to be around. It discusses sibling relationships, the healing power of music, and questioning your identity, all set against the vibrant backdrop of a summer in Hawaii.

This book follows Rumi, our main character, over the course of a summer as she's sent to live with her aunt in Hawaii, to give her mother some space and time to process her own grief from the death of Rumi's younger sister, Lea, in a car accident that both Rumi and her mother survived. Rumi feels an immense amount of guilt due to having survived when her sister did not along with the intense grief that comes along with losing a sister and a best friend. With help from some unlikely sources-- including her aunt, her elderly next-door neighbor, and a neighborhood surfer boy-- Rumi begins to process her loss.

Rumi, as a character, was an excellent protagonist. All of the emotions, the rage, the all-consuming sadness, felt very realistic. Rumi's healing is not linear, and I appreciated this, because healing from such a huge loss so rarely is.I also loved the instrumental (no pun intended, really) part music played in Rumi's healing. Music was a shared language between Rumi and her sister, and while at first it's too painful for her to write or play music, she eventually begins to channel some of her emotion into music as a way of coping with all she's experienced. The people Rumi meets in Hawaii also help her begin to heal, and I thought this was a standout cast of characters. From Kai's unrelenting bubbly attitude, to her aunt's unconditional love, to Mr. Watanabe's companionable silence, all of them give her the space to grieve in their own ways.

One of the standout elements of Summer Bird Blue was the exploration of questioning, aromantic, and asexual identities. Even though Rumi knows all the terminology, she still isn't quite sure where she fits on the aromantic and asexual spectrums. This felt so validating. Although I don't ID as asexual, as someone who identifies on the aro spectrum, I have never felt so SEEN in that part of my identity. I am always here for seeing more questioning characters in YA, because questioning is a huge part of many queer people figuring out how we identify. It shows teens that it's okay to not know exactly where you fit or which label (if any) you prefer. Add into this the fact that Rumi is both aro and ace, and doesn't end up in a relationship, and it was pretty much perfection. By the end of the story, Rumi still does not identify with any specific label, and I'M SO HERE FOR THAT. I'm going to be throwing this book into the hands of everyone who asks for queer YA recommendations, because it takes such a refreshing approach to asexuality, aromanticism, and orientation in general. (I believe the ace rep is #ownvoices, but I'm unsure about the aro rep.)

Hawaii acted as the perfect backdrop for this story. The contrast between Rumi's darkness and the beautiful, sunny island where she's living was brilliant. Additionally, much of the dialogue consists of Hawaiian Pidgin, which the author learned from her father. Almost all of the characters in this story are nonwhite, and most of them are mixed-race. This diversity was so refreshing and felt so realistic given the setting. I also kind of loved how temporal the setting was-- like, yes, it was important to Rumi and her healing process, so the island and the people she met there are important to her in that regard, but just because they were important to her during a season in her life does not mean they are the be-all and end-all of the rest of her life. (Not sure if that makes sense, but for those of you who have read the book, I'm trying to say that I loved the ending and found it really realistic.)

Overall, though Summer Bird Blue may be raw and brutally honest in its depictions of grief, it's also, ultimately, hopeful. This is a novel that will stick with me for a long while. I recommend it for anyone looking for a realistic depiction of grief, or anyone seeking out questioning, aromantic, and/or asexual representation in fiction.

Completely raw and unfiltered, Rumi is a flawed protagonist but a sympathetic one. Her anger and guilt and desperation are visceral and beauty rendered. I loved the diverse supporting cast and the honest exploration of Rumi's ace and aro identity.

I'm not a big fan of family dramas, especially sister relationships but Bowman really wrote a beautiful piece of literature. It was sweet yet heart wrenching and emotional.

I was disappointed because I thought this book was gonna be in verse, but I was led astray. Overall, this book wasn't horrible. There was nothing specifically bad about it, it just felt like a totally average angsty contemporary YA book to me with no stand-out qualities other than the few good, thought-provoking lines.