An eleven-year-old boy copes with the challenges of his city life by weaving his reality into a magical realm of dragons, foxes, and trolls—until he must use the power of his creativity to save both of his worlds from destructive forces. This stunning debut is a profound exploration of imagination, community, and how the stories we tell both comfort us and challenge us to grow. Charles’ life is split between two worlds: one real and one fantasy. In the real world, he is a lonely, bullied kid who can’t keep up with school when the letters refuse to stay still on the page, and is constantly in trouble for getting distracted. He lives with his mom in an apartment building, where Glory, the grumpy old superintendent, fills his head with stories about the Dream Folk. In his fantasy world, the Sanctuary, Charles adventures with faeries and sprites and his two imaginary best friends. There, Charles's bullies become ogres, and Glory opens his arms wide to transform into a dragon. But when trolls move into Charles’ apartment building and bring with them a terrible secret, the stories he has been told and the ones he brings to life grow more complicated. To protect everyone he cares about, Charles must harness his imagination in ways he never dreamed, in this unique story of the spaces and narratives we create for ourselves, and the ways in which fantasy and reality collide and blur. "An achingly well written story about the blurry line between reality and magic in childhood —and the heartbreaking ways it can be shattered." —Shannon Chakraborty, New York Times best-selling author. “Cameron's sentences are laden with magic, stuffed to spilling with the stuff of dreams . Through them, he takes us on a journey that's personal, poignant, phantasmagoric, and profound .” —Carlos Hernandez, Pura Belpré Award winning author of Sal and Gabi Break the Universe “Charming truths melt into harsh lessons about danger, bravery, persistence, and Charles' growing strength in this fast-paced coming-of-power delight .” —Nisi Shawl, multiple award-winning author of Speculation , Everfair , and Kinning " There’s magic on every page of [this] mesmerizing, unpredictable story.... Daydreamer is a tale that will capture the imagination of adults and children alike.’  -Milton J. Davis, author of Amber and the Hidden City " A daring, monumentally lyrical achievement , if not an outright fantasy classic." -Zig Zag Claybourne, author of Afro Puffs Are the Antennae of the Universe "This creative debut features strong character development in its exploration of the ways Charles copes with multiple challenges that will resonate with many readers. Captivating and cathartic. ” — Kirkus Reviews “Employing compassionate prose , Cameron illustrates the transformative power of storytelling to deliver a kindhearted tale .” — Publishers Weekly Cameron Roberson, who writes under the pen name Rob Cameron, is a teacher, linguist, and writer. He has poetry, stories, and essays, in Star*Line, The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction, Foreign Policy Magazine, Tor.com, New Modality, Solarpunk Magazine, Clockwork Phoenix Five, and others. Daydreamer is his debut middle grade novel. Rob is also lead organizer for the Brooklyn Speculative Fiction Writers and executive producer of Kaleidocast.nyc. 1 I know what’s real and what’s made up. What’s real is me sitting in the main office waiting for the principal in this uneven chair that’s got Legos stuffed under the cushion and teeter-­totters if I breathe too fast. Almost messed up the drawing I’m doing on the back of my social studies test. What’s real is I’m in bad trouble. About fifteen minutes ago, I was in class taking a test. My teacher, Mr. Sergeant, knows I’m bad at tests, but he makes me take them anyway. Kimaya sometimes lets me copy off hers, except Mr. Sergeant made us sit in alphabetical order today because he said that’s how they do it in the real world. I was alone with the words, but I wasn’t crying. That’s not why my eyes were wet. It was because I had to read about Black history on glaring, angry white pages, boiling the words alive. President Abraham Lincoln freed the slaves. Free. Like the words wanted to be. They wanted to move. Pop. ­VIBRATE like people tell me I do when they catch me imagining too hard. Ping-­panging like bees slamming into a window until it breaks, or they do. The dragon didn’t teach me to be cruel, so I let the words go. I almost didn’t have time to be sad before they exploded off the page and took my breath away. I imagined the words turning into a swarm of sprites who the dragon says are too tiny to see until they light up like sparks from the bad outlet in my bedroom. The sprites made neon-­blue figure eights. The air shaded to soupy fog poured over slippery jungle vines. I made believe they’d been growing for a thousand years. I couldn’t see the classroom anymore. I could almost believe I was alone. No teacher. No students. Then smoo