A Book A Week

One of the most common icebreakers I’ve encountered is the dreaded question: If you could have dinner with any person, dead or alive, who would it be? No matter how many times it’s been asked, I always freeze, struggling to come up with an answer. But perhaps the more interesting follow-up question is: What would you hope to learn from them? That shifts the conversation from a surface-level fantasy to something deeper, exploring the lessons we can take from history and those who lived through it.

In Harriet Tubman: Live in Concert, Bob the Drag Queen takes that idea and runs with it, crafting a reality where historical figures miraculously return to life, confront the modern world, and force us to reexamine the past. It’s a bold, imaginative debut that turns a familiar hypothetical into a thought-provoking and wildly entertaining read.

No one can explain how or why it happened, but everyone agrees—it’s a miracle. Long-dead historical figures have inexplicably returned, alive and well, picking up where they left off while adapting to the modern world. 

"It's been a very strange news cycle since The Return. Cleopatra is now an Instagram model, Rockefeller is having public battles of wealth display with Elon Musk and Jeff Bezos, and everyone is waiting on pins and needles to see if Jesus will return. I'm not betting on it."

For Darnell, a once-successful record producer whose best days are behind him, the phenomenon takes an even stranger turn—one of these legendary figures not only knows who he is but wants to work with him.

When you think of Harriet Tubman, you likely picture the fearless abolitionist who risked her life to lead hundreds to freedom through the Underground Railroad. But now that she’s back, Harriet quickly realizes that while progress has been made, the fight for freedom and equality is far from over. The journey to the Promised Land must continue, and she’s determined to tell her story in a way that resonates with this new generation. The best way to do that? A hip-hop album.

If that sounds crazy, just ask Alexander Hamilton.

Harriet enlists Darnell to help her bring her vision to life—producing an album and a concert that could change the world. Along the way, he might just rediscover his own purpose, too.

Bob the Drag Queen is a comedian, reality TV star, drag performer—and now, he can add author to that list. Harriet Tubman: Live in Concert is one of the most imaginative, original, and provocative novels I’ve read this year. His distinctive voice leaps off the page, infusing this speculative historical fiction with sharp humor and insightful commentary.

Bob fully embraces the what-if of it all, crafting a fish-out-of-water scenario that places Harriet Tubman in the modern world, balancing levity with moments of deep reflection. While some passages lean a bit repetitive, his undeniable charisma and clear perspective keep the story moving, smoothing over any technical hiccups.

By bringing Tubman into the present, Bob draws a compelling parallel between the abolitionist movement of her time and the ongoing fight for LGBTQ+ rights. The struggle for equality is never-ending, but it’s one worth continuing. This novel serves as a powerful reminder that, no matter our race, gender, or sexual orientation, we all deserve to live fully, freely, and without fear. As Harriet herself puts it: “The biggest struggle in earning your freedom is feeling like you deserve it."

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2025, 25)

Stay with me on this train of thought. I find a certain comfort in the thrill of a classic slasher movie. I know what you’re thinking: How do you find comfort in something meant to terrify you? Fair question. But hear me out.

I’ve always enjoyed those formulaic horror films, you know, the ones where an unsuspecting victim is relentlessly pursued by a crazed maniac, hellbent on destruction. Classics like Halloween, Friday the 13th, and Scream perfected this formula, and while modern slashers often follow in their footsteps, there's something undeniably satisfying about watching these familiar beats play out. The predictability isn’t a flaw. It’s part of the fun, a rhythm I can sink into as I let the latest variation work its magic.

In the literary world, I've enjoyed how authors like Stephen Graham Jones and Christopher Golden have made their mark by honoring horror’s beloved tropes while carving out fresh, inventive narratives. Now I can add Adam Cesare’s Clown in a Cornfield to that list. His take on the teen slasher is bold, gruesome, and instantly gripping. It lures you in with its familiarity, only to keep you hooked with its clever twists on a well-worn genre.

Kettle Springs is the kind of small Midwestern town that time forgot. Nestled among sprawling cornfields, it’s littered with remnants of what it once was. The now-vacant Baypen Corn Syrup Factory looms over the landscape, a stark monument to economic collapse and the deepening rift between generations. Even more prominent is the town’s faded mascot, Frendo, a grinning clown in a porkpie hat, his image still plastered on buildings and rusting signs, a ghost of better days. The older generation clings desperately to the past, determined to make Kettle Springs great again. The younger generation couldn’t care less. They’re just trying to have fun and escape as soon as possible.

For Quinn Maybrook and her father, Kettle Springs represents a fresh start, something they both need after the death of Quinn’s mother. Her father has traded his high-pressure job as an ER doctor for the slower pace of life as the town’s primary physician. But Quinn isn’t exactly thrilled. This sleepy, dead-end town wasn’t what she had in mind for a new beginning. At this point, her only goal is to keep her head down and make it to graduation.

But Kettle Springs has other plans.

The town’s simmering tensions reach a boiling point when a masked killer—dressed as Frendo himself—decides that the best way to restore Kettle Springs to its former glory is to rid the town of the rotten kids who live there now. Suddenly, Quinn finds herself caught in the crossfire of a town at war with itself, running for her life in a place she never wanted to call home in the first place. 

With Clown in a Cornfield, Adam Cesare uses the framework of a classic slasher to explore small-town politics, grief, and the inevitability of progress. It’s a story that feels both timeless and eerily relevant, capturing the political divide of our current moment. Sure, it gets a bit over-the-top at times, and the climax ties things up a little too neatly, but I didn’t care. Cesare delivers a brutal, fast-paced horror novel that had me completely hooked. He brings classic slasher tropes into the modern era in a way that feels fresh, subverting expectations just enough to keep things unpredictable. With two more books in the series already out and a film adaptation coming later this year, Clown in a Cornfield is a bonafide hit. It's a fun, clever horror novel that has me eager for more.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2025, 20)

These days, keeping up with the most talked-about shows often means subscribing to multiple streaming services. While I don’t love paying for each one, I do appreciate the vast selection of content they provide. With the constant demand for new material, many streamers turn to the literary world for inspiration, adapting popular novels into hit series. That’s precisely the case with my latest read, Wool by Hugh Howey, which was adapted into the Apple TV+ show Silo. I had no idea it was based on a book until I finished the first episode, so I decided to pause the show and read the novel first to avoid spoilers.

For the last survivors of humanity, the silo is the only world they’ve ever known. Deep underground, they live by strict rules designed to keep them safe. These rules cannot be questioned. Breaking them means exile. Exile means death. Generation after generation has accepted this reality, never daring to ask what lies beyond.

Sheriff Holston has spent his life enforcing these laws, ensuring order within the silo. But something shifts inside him, and without warning, he makes the unthinkable decision to leave. He steps outside into the toxic wasteland to face a certain death.

Juliette Nichols, a no-nonsense engineer from the lower levels, has never sought power or influence. She’s content working in the depths of the silo, far from politics and secrets. But when Holston’s departure leaves a void, Juliette is unexpectedly chosen to take his place. With her new role comes access to hidden truths, fragments of a past that don’t add up, and whispers of a reality the silo’s leaders don’t want to be exposed. The more she uncovers, the more dangerous her position becomes. Because in the silo, knowledge is a threat, and those who ask too many questions don’t live long enough to hear the answers.

In Wool, Hugh Howey crafts a dystopian world brimming with secrets waiting to be uncovered. While the novel features extensive world-building, it remains grounded in the deeply personal, familial bonds, political struggles, and emotional stakes that make this society feel authentic. Howey masterfully scatters breadcrumbs of mystery throughout the story, creating a steady momentum that kept me eagerly turning the pages, wondering what would unfold next.

Wool successfully introduces the larger mythology of its world as the first book in a trilogy while still delivering a satisfying standalone experience. This isn’t a genre I typically gravitate toward, but Howey’s storytelling has convinced me to explore it further. I’m looking forward to continuing the series and returning to the TV adaptation.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads.

(2025, 15)

It’s not hard to envision a future where our changing climate irreversibly alters the places we call home. I’ve spent more days in shorts and a T-shirt this winter than in any year I can remember. It's been a stark adjustment from the cooler weather Texas usually sees this time of year. The growing threat of flooding from increasingly severe storms looms large for coastal areas, making the topic of climate change feel all the more urgent.

When Eiren Caffall’s publisher offered me a copy of her latest novel, All the Water in the World, I was immediately intrigued by its fictional exploration of a world succumbing to the perils of climate change. Learning that Caffall was inspired by the stories of curators in Iraq and Leningrad who risked everything to protect their collections during times of war made me even more eager to dive in.

Nonie’s family has devoted their lives to safeguarding the world’s history, even as the world itself teeters on the brink of collapse. Alongside a small group of researchers, they have turned the roof of the American Museum of Natural History into their sanctuary amidst a mostly abandoned New York City. They forage and cultivate food in Central Park, relying on the museum’s exhibits only when absolutely necessary. Yet their survival is about more than just staying alive—it’s about preserving the past. Together, they meticulously document every artifact, etching the history of a lost world into a single handwritten book.

When a catastrophic superstorm breaches the city’s flood walls, Nonie and her family are forced to flee their makeshift haven, taking their precious book of records.  Traveling north along the turbulent Hudson River, they embark on a harrowing journey through a fractured landscape, encountering a patchwork of surviving communities, each adapting to the changed world in innovative and deeply unsettling ways. Despite the uncertainty and danger, Nonie and her family cling to their mission, determined to forge a future that honors the legacy of what has been saved.

All the Water in the World is, at times, a speculative thriller and survival story; at others, a poignant reflection on the fragility of humanity and history; and still, at others, a passionate warning about the perils of inaction. Eiren Caffall works to weave these themes into an original and urgent narrative. 

The story’s young protagonist, Nonie, guides us through this hauntingly altered world. Her innocence allows readers to draw their own conclusions about the events unfolding around her while her raw and honest emotions leap off the page, pulling us deeper into her journey.

The novel, however, isn’t without its flaws. The weight of its themes occasionally causes the pacing to falter, meandering from one set piece to the next. Yet, it delivers a conclusion that feels fitting for this story—even as it leaves the sense that more remains unresolved. 

There are no easy answers here, and Caffall seems content to embrace that uncertainty. Whether readers can also accept this inevitability will likely influence their response to the novel. While it poses compelling ideas and delivers moments of brilliance, it is as challenging and uneven as it is thought-provoking.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2025, 2)

The Marvel Cinematic Universe has transformed comic book stories from niche serials into mainstream cultural staples. While I’ve enjoyed my fair share of superhero movies, I wouldn’t call myself a die-hard fan—more of a casual viewer with limited knowledge of the comics that inspire them. Still, when Alex Segura’s publisher sent me a copy of his latest novel, Alter Ego, I was immediately drawn to its premise. Combining the imaginative flair of comic books with the tension of a modern thriller, the story delivers a unique and exhilarating page-turner.

Annie Bustamante has experienced all the highs and lows of being a great artist. She’s been hailed as an auteur filmmaker, a celebrated author, and the visionary behind one of the most acclaimed superhero comics of recent years. Yet she’s also been labeled a hack, a sellout, and countless other disparaging names—par for the course, especially as a woman navigating a male-dominated industry. Through it all, one project has always eluded her grasp. Since she stumbled upon a tattered copy of The Legendary Lynx #1 as a child, Annie has dreamed of bringing the long-forgotten character to life. Obscure and out of print, The Legendary Lynx is known only to die-hard fans, but it remains Annie’s ultimate creative ambition.

The rights to The Legendary Lynx have been shrouded in mystery for decades, but now they appear to be within Annie's reach. She’s wary of the offer's source—Bert Carlyle, heir to Triumph Comics, whose late father long claimed ownership of the character. Her unease deepens when she receives cryptic messages warning her not to trust anyone. To complicate matters further, Carlyle insists on partnering her with a disgraced filmmaker in a risky bid for publicity. Faced with mounting suspicions and her lifelong dream hanging in the balance, Annie must decide how far she will go to make the Lynx her own.

In Alter Ego, Alex Segura delivers a thrilling novel that taps into comic book culture while offering a taut, contemporary suspense story. Annie's quest to balance a career shaped by commercial success and creative dreams immediately drew me in. The novel expertly explores the tension between profit and passion, heightening the stakes as Annie navigates a world where those lines can easily blur.  Although this is a sequel to Segura's 2022 novel Secret Identity, I had no trouble diving into the story and quickly became engrossed in the action. Pages from The Legendary Lynx comic are interwoven throughout the story, adding a unique depth and connection to the world Segura builds. Alter Ego is a fast-paced, captivating thriller that is a pure joy to read. 

For more information, visit the author's webiste, Amazon, and Goodreads, 

(2024, 90)

Childhood is a time of self-discovery, a phase of learning who we are, what we love, and how we fit into the vast world. It’s often marked by awkward moments, but most kids find their way through just fine. Fourteen-year-old Ava Bonney, however, is navigating a much different path. Struggling to fit in, she seems content to forge her own way. But Ava’s unique interests are about to lead her down a dark and unexpected road.

The road near Ava’s home has become a graveyard for animals struck by passing cars. What began as a strange curiosity—observing how the creatures decay—has grown into a dark obsession. Late at night, Ava pulls her discoveries into her secret roadside den, meticulously documenting their decomposition.

One night, her routine takes a horrifying turn when she stumbles upon something she never expected: the lifeless body of her classmate, Mickey Grant. Paralyzed with fear and dreading the questions her nocturnal wanderings might raise, Ava places an anonymous tip to report Mickey’s death. But even after the authorities begin their investigation, Ava can’t shake the murder from her mind. Determined to uncover the truth, Ava takes matters into her own hands—setting herself on a path that will challenge everything she thought she knew about her town and herself.

In her debut novel, Deadly Animals, Marie Tierney delivers a hauntingly original blend of murder mystery and coming-of-age drama. Her protagonist, Ava Bonney, is a refreshingly unconventional teen who, along with a veteran detective, becomes entangled in investigating a series of grisly and bizarre crimes. Tierney masterfully juxtaposes the raw, unsettling nature of the murders with Ava’s quirky, awkward journey toward self-discovery.

The writing is captivating, balancing the macabre with moments of dark humor and tenderness. While the crimes are gruesome enough to make you squirm, Tierney’s storytelling keeps you hooked, pulling you deeper into Ava’s world with every twist. The finale is as shocking as it is satisfying, cementing Deadly Animals as an unforgettable debut. Tierney’s distinct voice and bold storytelling promise an exciting future for readers, and I can’t wait to see what she creates next.

For more information, visit Amazon and Goodreads. 

(2024, 86)

Think back to the classic literature you read in school. How many were written by women? While authors like Harper Lee, Mary Shelley, and Kate Chopin made the list, most “essential” works in my literary education were written by men. But what if that wasn’t entirely the case? Take William Shakespeare, for instance. Known for his brilliant storytelling, mastery of language, and genre-spanning talent, he is celebrated as one of history’s most prolific playwrights. Yet, the authorship of some of his most famous works has sparked controversy for decades. What if, some suggest, he didn’t write them all himself? What if a woman penned these iconic plays? From this tantalizing “what if,” Jodi Picoult spins her latest novel, By Any Other Name.

Melina Green has all but let go of her dream to see one of her plays produced in New York. She knew the path to becoming a playwright wouldn’t be easy, but her resolve faltered after a disheartening experience in a masterclass with one of the city’s leading critics. Melina poured her heart into a story drawn from her own experiences, tackling the delicate dynamics of a mentor crossing the line with a student. But the critic, Jasper, dismissed her work as lacking authenticity and depth. Now, she’s losing hope of breaking into the theater scene dominated by men. 

With renewed inspiration, Melina has written a new play based on the life of her ancestor, Emilia Bassano. Tempted to submit it to a prestigious festival, she hesitates, haunted by the memory of Jasper, who’s set to judge the competition. When her friend secretly submits the play under a male pseudonym, Melina decides to roll with the plan, determined to prove the strength of her writing and, perhaps, make Jasper rethink his earlier judgment. Will her work finally be judged on its merits without her gender standing in the way?

Picoult weaves Melina’s journey with the story of Emilia Bassano, a young woman in 1581 who lives as a ward of English aristocrats. Emilia’s language, history, and writing studies sharpen her wit and feed her gift for storytelling, but like many women of her time, her voice is suppressed. Drawn into an affair with the influential Lord Chamberlain, she becomes captivated by the powerful effect of theater. Determined to see her words brought to life, Emilia enlists a young actor, William Shakespeare, to present her plays as his. As Melina’s and Emilia’s stories unfold, Picoult reveals a timeless struggle for women seeking recognition in a world that often silences them.

In By Any Other Name, Jodi Picoult combines meticulous research with compelling fiction to question whether William Shakespeare truly authored the iconic plays we celebrate. This isn’t just a provocative exercise in speculation, although Picoult provides plenty of that across the novel’s 500+ pages. At its core, it’s a story about the resilient power of women, who often have to work twice as hard to receive even a fraction of the recognition their male counterparts enjoy. Through alternating timelines, the book captures this timeless struggle, showing that despite progress, certain obstacles endure.

The parallel narratives—one set in history and one in the present—underscore this universality with skillful resonance. Picoult’s clever narrative mirroring reveals how both her contemporary and historical protagonists navigate a world stacked against them. It's a story that feels as relevant today as it would have centuries ago. If I have one critique, the present-day storyline doesn’t quite reach the gripping intensity of the historical one. Nevertheless, By Any Other Name is a remarkable novel that challenges readers’ assumptions while providing an engaging and thought-provoking read.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2024, 80)

I love it when a book genuinely surprises me, especially since reading so many each year makes those moments rare. That's why TJ Klune's The House in the Cerulean Sea was such a delightful discovery when I picked it up earlier this year. Although I don't usually gravitate toward fantasy and was wary of the hype surrounding Klune's 2020 novel, it proved to be one of the most heartwarming and life-affirming books I've ever read. The quirky tale of a home for magical children touched me in unexpected ways, leaving me eager for more. With Klune returning for a sequel, he's hoping to recapture that magic and surprise readers all over again.

How far would you go to protect your family? Arthur Parnassus understands the importance of a nurturing environment. As an orphan himself, he witnessed the lasting impact of neglect and abuse on a child's life. This drove him to dedicate his life to caring for orphaned magical children on his island, providing them with a home full of learning, acceptance, and, most importantly, love. Alongside his partner Linus, Arthur is determined to shield his kids from harm. But given their unique abilities, that protection is anything but simple. That's why Arthur has agreed to testify before a government committee, hoping to prove just how ordinary his life and their home truly are.

Arthur and Linus walk into the hearing, fully aware that Arthur's past might be challenging to relive but hopeful that it will help prove that he and his family are nothing to fear. However, as the questioning begins, it becomes clear that the government's agenda is far from sincere. Instead of a fair inquiry, the hearing is designed to provoke Arthur, incite a reaction, and demonstrate that magical beings are dangerous. The confrontation escalates, ending in chaos, with the authorities calling for a new investigation into the island and the children who live there, framing them as threats to society. This isn't new for Arthur. He's faced the same hateful rhetoric his whole life. But he also knows how powerful hate can be. Now, determined to protect his family, he prepares to lead a fight for the future that both his loved ones and all magical beings deserve.

If The House in the Cerulean Sea was about finding your tribe—the people and place where you can be your true self, whether you're a gay man, a garden gnome, or even the antichrist—then Somewhere Beyond the Sea deepens that theme. It delves into the fragile nature of that sense of belonging, particularly for those outside societal norms, and highlights the challenges marginalized groups face in safeguarding their place in the world. TJ Klune dedicates this novel to the trans community and, in his author's note, identifies himself as the "anti-JK Rowling." He crafts a story that not only celebrates those considered "other" but also reminds us that, despite our differences, we have more in common than we realize.

In recent years, we've seen rising hostility toward the LGBTQ+ community, with harmful legislation and rhetoric gaining traction. Yet, as Klune's novel reminds us, the antidote to hate is something simple and powerful: love. Through his quiet, profound storytelling, Klune shows that humor, empathy, and love are universal languages that resonate with most people. Somewhere Beyond the Sea continues his mission to give voice to underrepresented communities, all without being preachy or alienating. It's a story I found myself completely immersed in, allowing the characters and message to wash over me in an authentic and understated way. Klune's work is a testament to love and acceptance, and it's heartening to see him continue to spread that message in a world that desperately needs it. I hope he keeps sharing stories like this for years to come.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2024, 69)

I’ve just returned from a weeklong Caribbean cruise filled with rest, relaxation, fun, and, of course, plenty of reading. As we sailed from one stunning tropical destination to the next, I couldn’t help but think about the tremendous amount of work happening behind the scenes to ensure every passenger enjoyed their vacation. The ship’s crew, from kitchen staff to housekeepers and everyone in between, dedicated their days to serving their guests, and I felt incredibly grateful for their efforts. It seemed fitting, then, that I was reading Nita Prose’s debut novel, The Maid. The book takes a classic murder mystery and tells it from the perspective of one of those essential workers whose presence often goes unnoticed, making for a wonderfully unexpected hero.

Molly takes immense pride in her work, a value instilled by her grandmother, who raised her after her mother left. Molly’s unique personality, likely placing her somewhere on the neurodivergence spectrum, has always been nurtured by Gran’s loving guidance. Under her care, Molly learned to embrace life fully, dedicating herself to every task with unwavering commitment. Her meticulous attention to detail, passion for cleanliness, and proper etiquette make her ideally suited for her role as a maid at the luxurious Regency Grand Hotel. Molly excels at returning each room to a "state of perfection" with the utmost discretion.

When her Gran passed away a few months ago, Molly’s carefully ordered life began to unravel. Struggling to process her grief, she sought refuge in the familiar routine of her work, finding comfort in cleaning the guests' rooms. But her fragile sense of stability is shattered when she enters the suite of the wealthy and infamous Charles Black, a regular at the hotel, only to find it in disarray. As she peers further into the room, she discovers Mr. Black lying lifeless in his bed. Molly's unusual demeanor quickly makes her the prime suspect in the eyes of the police, thrusting her into a web of death and deception that she’s unprepared to navigate. Can she uncover the real culprit before it’s too late?

I was immediately captivated by Nita Prose's story, thanks to Molly's charming and quirky character. Prose turns Molly's peculiarities into strengths, illustrating that there's a place for everyone in this world if we just embrace their differences. Molly’s literal-mindedness and naivety offer her a unique perspective, making her an unexpectedly original hero in a classic murder mystery. While the mystery is relatively straightforward, Prose adds a last-minute twist that genuinely surprised me. The Maid is a debut brimming with humor, heart, and a gripping murder investigation. I've already started the next book in the series and can't wait to delve further into Molly’s world.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2024, 63)

"Nothing mattered but the stories, my understanding of them, how the stories affected me, and the dreams the story ignited."

The year is 2015, and Tatum feels settled in life for perhaps the first time. She lives in Chile with her partner Vera and works at her dream job in an art museum. It's a stark contrast to the life she once thought she wanted. Tatum spent the previous decade in New York, believing all her dreams would come true, but now she has doubts. Much of that time was consumed by her admiration for acclaimed author M. Domínguez, whose novel Happiness captivated her with its portrayal of the Latinx experience. It was the first time she felt represented in literature, prompting her to write a heartfelt fan email to the author. To her surprise, he responded, sparking a decade-long relationship that Tatum still doesn't fully comprehend.

Their bond was complex—sometimes a friendship, sometimes a romantic entanglement, a mentor-student dynamic that defies any simple definition. When a reporter contacts Tatum about multiple assault allegations against M., her carefully constructed separation between her past and present begins to unravel. She is forced to confront the true nature of her all-consuming relationship with the author. The questions and uncertainties she had pushed aside resurface, challenging her understanding of the past decade and compelling her to reevaluate the impact M. had on her life.

In her debut novel Like Happiness, author Ursula Villarreal-Moura invites readers to delve into the intricacies of relationships, power dynamics, sexuality, identity, and memory. The story unfolds through a dual narrative, alternating between Tatum's present day and a letter she writes to M., recounting and reclaiming their complex relationship. This structure reflects the protagonist's struggle with her past, emphasizing the back-and-forth and uncertainty she faces. Villarreal-Moura doesn't provide easy answers or steer readers in a specific direction; instead, she infuses her characters with raw emotion, making them relatable even when their situations are far from straightforward.

I loved reading a novel where the main character grew up in the same city as I did. San Antonio will always be home to me, and Villarreal-Moura beautifully captures the people, places, and history that make it unique. There is a profound sense of humanity throughout Like Happiness, allowing readers to easily immerse themselves in the story and reflect on its themes. With this debut, Villarreal-Moura establishes herself as a distinct voice in literature, leaving me eager to read more of her work. Like Happiness is one of the best novels I've read this year, and I'm grateful to the publisher for providing me with a copy.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2024, 46)

For five decades, Stephen King has captivated audiences with his richly developed characters, imaginative narratives, and knack for crafting stories that truly scare us. My journey with King's works began in my senior year of high school with the hefty Duma Key, and I've been an avid reader ever since. I strive to incorporate his books into my regular reading rotation, balancing his latest releases with the classic titles that have cemented his status as a household name. His newest effort, You Like It Darker, sees the author returning to his roots with a collection of short stories that showcase the genre-bending breadth of his writing prowess.

Like most short story collections, You Like It Darker has its share of hits and misses. Fortunately, the stories I found to be misses were the shorter ones. I could see King experimenting with his usual array of literary devices, but ultimately, the brevity of these tales left me wanting more. That being said, many of the stories were well worth the price of admission. Here’s a breakdown of my top three favorites.

Perhaps the most buzzed-about story in this collection is Rattlesnakes, the sequel to King's classic novel Cujo. It follows Vic Trenton, who readers will remember lost his young son to a rabid St. Bernard decades ago. Now a recent widower, the 76-year-old Vic rides out the COVID-19 pandemic at a friend's house in the Florida Keys. There, he meets an elderly woman whose personal tragedy mirrors his own. Rumor has it that she lost her twin boys decades ago and now pushes around their empty stroller, unable to acknowledge that her children are gone forever. The two grieving parents continue to cross paths, perhaps connected by their shared sorrow or something more sinister. When the woman meets a tragic end in one of the most gruesome scenes in the entire book, she leaves Vic an unusual inheritance, one that will reopen old wounds and torment him all over again.

Danny Coughlin's Bad Dream stems from a simple idea: What if you dreamed about the location of a murdered body? Would you seek it out? Would the authorities believe you truly dreamed it, or would they suspect you as the killer? This is the longest story in the collection, and it seems most in line with King's recent foray into crime thrillers. At nearly 200 pages, the work feels the most complete, providing a tense "what if" scenario that hits all the right notes.

The final story in the collection is quintessential Stephen King. The Answer Man imagines a protagonist who stumbles upon a simple table with a red umbrella. Sitting beneath the shade is the Answer Man. For a nominal fee, the Answer Man promises to truthfully answer whatever question you ask. Is that knowledge a blessing or a curse? This story highlights what King excels at: finding deep unease and philosophical uncertainty within the lives of everyday people. I think that's why we connect so deeply with his writing. We see glimmers of ourselves in the flawed people who inhabit his world. Yes, there are absolutely crazy things happening a lot of the time, but that connection to his characters and his ability to ground absurd plot points in reality have sustained him for his entire career.

The afterward of the book reads as both a thank you and a retrospective. King admits to liking only two of his finished works, The Green Mile and Rita Hayworth and Shawshank Redemption. In the golden years of his life, however, he continues to follow his imagination and chase the thrill of writing something that truly captures magic. For the sake of us readers, I hope he continues that pursuit.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2024, 44)

Think back to the early months of 2020. COVID-19 was on the rise as a global health crisis, incidents of police brutality were escalating, and America was led by a president who stood out as one of the most polarizing figures in history. The atmosphere was thick with uncertainty. At a time when many sought strong and compassionate leadership, we found ourselves with a leader more focused on personal gain than on serving the nation. During such periods of uncertainty, it's natural for our minds to wander and ponder alternative realities. I found myself wondering, "What if things had been different?" Author Curtis Sittenfeld seized upon this speculative thought, channeling it into her novel, Rodham.

Hillary Rodham Clinton is one of the most influential women in American political history. Regardless of one's opinion on her political beliefs, her impact on the nation's political landscape is undeniable. She's a figure who has consistently evoked strong reactions since her days as First Lady during Bill Clinton's landmark presidency. While many are familiar with the disappointment of her 2016 presidential loss to Donald Trump, Curtis Sittenfeld has imagined an intriguing alternative history. In the novel, Hillary Rodham, having declined Bill Clinton's marriage proposal, chooses a path that diverges from her eventual union with the former president. This alternate narrative prompts readers to reflect on the potential trajectory of one of America's most prominent political figures had she taken a different route.

The initial sections of Rodham closely mirror Hillary's known history. We witness her early law school years, and indeed, her relationship with Bill Clinton develops much as it did in reality. In many respects, they make an unusual pair. Bill is exuberant and effortlessly establishes genuine rapport with people, often forming connections with those he's just met. On the other hand, Hillary is more introspective, finding solace and comfort within her tight-knit circle of friends rather than in new acquaintances. Yet, the two are undeniably drawn to each other, each possessing a brilliant intellect and curiosity that perfectly complements the other's temperament. Hinting at the public marital challenges they faced in real life, Bill grapples with infidelity in this fictional account, even as his political ambitions start to take shape. At this point, Sittenfeld's narrative veers away from known history. Bill and Hillary do not wed; instead, they embark on separate paths that will eventually intersect, but in ways starkly different from the history we know.

Within this alternative historical timeline, Sittenfeld's Rodham primarily unfolds. Liberated from her relationship with Bill, Hillary ventures into a political career where she seizes control of her own narrative, something she could not fully achieve in real life. Presented in the first person, the novel resonates with the authenticity of a genuine memoir, offering readers intimate insights into Hillary's political and personal ambitions. Sittenfeld provides a form of wish fulfillment, granting Hillary the opportunities many of us wished she had experienced. Much of this imagined narrative aligns closely with the fringes of actual history, lending the fabricated events a sense of credibility that makes them feel believable, even though they never transpired. Hillary faces many of the same obstacles she encountered in real life, particularly as she contemplates a presidential run. The challenges of being a woman in a predominantly male role are eternally evident. Sittenfeld adeptly captures the aspirations and frustrations of a woman poised for greatness if only the course of history would accommodate her. Although the conclusion may seem somewhat predictable, Rodham remains a captivating read that ignites the imagination.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2024, 27)

Mark Twain's Adventures of Huckleberry Finn is a cornerstone of American literature, garnering both admiration and critique since its initial publication in 1885. While celebrated as a quintessential "great American novel," its legacy is not devoid of controversy. Early detractors took issue with its use of vernacular English and its meandering narrative, following the exploits of the eponymous Finn as he navigates the Mississippi River. In more contemporary times, scrutiny has intensified over its portrayal of race, particularly its liberal use of the n-word throughout the text. Nevertheless, Twain's exploration of boyhood and his satirical commentary on America's entrenched racial attitudes and notions of freedom render the novel a rich subject for study and reflection.

Author Percival Everett, renowned for his incisive wit and willingness to tackle contentious themes, brings his formidable talent to bear in reimagining Twain's classic work. With a career spanning four decades, Everett has crafted sharp, thought-provoking novels that push boundaries and challenge conventional norms. Upon learning of his latest endeavor, a reinterpretation of Adventures of Huckleberry Finn titled James, I anticipated a literary treat. Few writers are as adept as Everett at navigating the complex interplay of tones and themes present in Twain's seminal work. After all, this is the same author who masterfully blended comedy with a narrative on lynching in his 2021 novel The Trees, a feat that seemed impossible until I experienced it firsthand. Armed with high expectations, I eagerly delved into James, poised to witness Everett's unique perspective on this timeless tale.

As the title implies, James offers a fresh perspective by narrating the story through the eyes of Jim, the enslaved man who accompanies Finn on his adventures in the original narrative. Percival Everett immediately distinguishes Jim from his portrayal in the original text by endowing him with an intellect that defies the era's expectations. Jim and his fellow enslaved individuals lead a dual existence, seamlessly transitioning between sophisticated English when among themselves and deliberately employing "incorrect grammar" in the presence of their white owners. Through this simple yet powerful device, Everett exposes the absurdity of racism in America, highlighting how the enslaved people consciously contribute to perpetuating the illusion of Black inferiority for their own safety.

While the novel adheres to many of the original storyline's beats, Everett injects a clearer sense of purpose by orchestrating Jim's escape from enslavement after a botched theft. Concealed in the underbrush, Jim encounters Finn, who has staged his own demise and seeks refuge. Predictably, the white populace implicates Jim in Finn's supposed demise, triggering a relentless manhunt. This imbues James with a sense of urgency absent from Twain's original text. While retaining familiarity with key plot points, Everett introduces fresh scenarios that heighten tension and the underlying social commentary permeating the narrative. Whether or not readers are acquainted with Mark Twain's source material, Everett's reimagining offers a compelling and thought-provoking experience. For those familiar with the original work, Everett's additions infuse the story with an enhanced sense of humanity. James is another stellar addition to Everett's oeuvre, showcasing his adeptness at crafting intricate plots, nuanced character development, incisive humor, and poignant social critique.

For more information, visit Amazon and Goodreads.

(2024, 23)

As a dedicated reader, I have as much interest in authors and their writing processes as I do in their books. Discovering the various methods authors employ to craft their stories, whether through meticulous outlining or a more free-flowing, stream-of-consciousness approach, is endlessly fascinating. Equally intriguing is the genesis of the initial idea for a book. This origin is readily apparent in the case of Suzie Miller's novel Prima Facie. The narrative was initially shared in the form of her highly successful play of the same name, which garnered acclaim on both the West End and Broadway. Now, Miller has adeptly adapted this compelling story into a novel, promising to enthrall an entirely new audience with this brilliant work. 

Tessa Ensler has dedicated her life to justice. The young criminal defense barrister has worked her way up through the country's legal system, overcoming all the odds that were set against her to become one of the best at defending those who plead not guilty. Tessa's unwavering belief in the law and the judicial system is reflected in her brilliance at her craft. With a quick wit, intuitive cross-examinations, and an encyclopedic knowledge of legal procedures, she has amassed a string of victories. Even in emotionally challenging cases, Tessa maintains objectivity to secure the best defense for her clients, embodying the foundational principle of a civilized society—innocence until proven guilty.

Tessa's unwavering faith in the law is shattered when she becomes a victim herself, enduring a harrowing sexual assault by a coworker. Reporting the assault to the police, she acknowledges the uphill battle ahead, where her testimony stands against his. Yet, she clings to her belief in the system she has devoted her career to. Taking the witness stand, Tessa confronts doubt, trauma, and manipulation, determined to validate the harrowing reality of her situation and seek justice.

In Prima Facie, Suzie Miller delivers a compelling legal thriller that delves into themes of justice, trauma, and the relentless pursuit of truth. The novel serves as a stark critique of the legal system's rigidity, demanding flawless evidence from victims of sexual crimes while not holding the accused to the same standards. The narrative evoked increasing anger as I witnessed the protagonist navigating the legal obstacles, highlighting the unfortunate commonality of such situations. Understanding the reasons why many victims choose not to report their abuse or seek justice became distressingly clear, especially considering the staggering statistic of 1 in 3 women experiencing sexual assault.

Adapted from a play, Prima Facie initially shows signs of the story's expansion, with the first half burdened by an unnecessary backstory that threatened the narrative's momentum. However, as the main conflict unfolded, the story gained an urgency that captured my full attention. The culmination in a final courtroom scene was both infuriating and satisfying. I chose to experience Prima Facie in the audiobook format (provided by the publisher), narrated by Jodie Comer, who portrayed Tessa in the play. While the play likely had more streamlined pacing, the novel effectively conveys the story's importance and urgency. If transforming the play into a novel increases awareness of the harsh realities depicted, it's a worthwhile adaptation that also makes for a gripping read.

For more information, visit Amazon and Goodreads. 

(2024, 16)

There are moments when we, as readers, indulge in books for pleasure and enjoyment, while other times, we opt to challenge ourselves. I've always been a mood reader, gravitating towards whichever story captures my interest at a given moment. However, there are certain books that I choose to read as a means of expanding my literary horizons. When packing books for my recent Caribbean cruise, I primarily selected quick page-turners and crime thrillers. Yet, once on vacation, I yearned for something more substantial. I turned to my Kindle, where Hernan Diaz's Trust had been waiting since I impulsively purchased it after it won the Pulitzer in fiction last year. Disconnected from the rest of the world and fully absorbed in the ship's gentle rocking and the soothing hum of the waves, I began to read. The title is fitting, as 'trust' is precisely what you need when embarking on this novel, presented in four distinct parts. If you trust and stick with Diaz's writing, you'll soon be rewarded...mostly.

Part one unfolds as a brief novella titled "Bonds," a creation by a long-forgotten author, Harold Vanner, from the 1930s. It narrates the story of America's wealthiest man, Benjamin Rask, a man so accustomed to his privilege that he could never anticipate the tragic turn his life would take. In contrast to his father, who amassed a substantial fortune in the tobacco industry through his sociable nature and knack for sales, Benjamin relished in his solitude. While he might not have cultivated the social connections his father was known for, he possessed a talent for handling money. Benjamin turned his significant but not colossal inheritance into an unimaginable fortune, catching the attention of his colleagues and competitors. From the Roaring 20s to the crash of 1929, he employed an almost preternatural intuition to profit and sell, remaining oblivious to the devastation the crash would unleash on everyone else.

Benjamin's life transformed when he encountered the woman who would become his wife. She serves as a perfect counterpoint to him—equally at ease in her contemplative solitude, eccentric yet private. The couple captured the fascination of society, an allure that intensified as they withdrew from the public eye. Speculations about corruption within Rask's fortune began to circulate, particularly as he navigated the financial minefield of the Great Depression, unscathed. As if to demonstrate that even mere suspicions of impropriety must face an inevitable reckoning, the narrative hurtles toward the forewarned tragedy—a climax that manages to both shock and satisfy. Just as "Bonds" concludes with its tragic finale, Diaz seamlessly transitions to the second part of his novel, initiating the next layer of his intricate narrative.

Trust initially presented a challenge for me to navigate. Following the opening novella, which echoed Fitzgerald's cautionary fable in The Great Gatsby, the second part unfolded as a memoir by an American financier. While this narrative shared some parallels with the initial section, I grappled with understanding their connection and questioning why I should invest in this new storyline. It wasn't until the third section, roughly halfway through Trust, that the true essence of Diaz's narrative began to unveil itself, with connections becoming more apparent and the emotional journey drawing me further in. As a cohesive whole, this book stands as a masterfully crafted tale, making me marvel at Diaz's ability to inhabit distinct voices and styles within each of the four sections and seamlessly bring them together into a unified whole. While the ending fulfilled my desire to witness the integration of the diverse narrative threads, the story's emotional impact left me yearning for something more. The conclusion lacked a grand revelation or thesis, but I sense that might be the book's intention. These influential individuals channel all their energy into amassing fortunes, only to succumb to the same fate awaiting us all. In the end, Trust captivated and confounded me, expanding the definition of a novel and encouraging me to seek out more challenging reads in the future.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2024, 14)

In the tumultuous year of 2020, marked by tension and uncertainty due to a global pandemic and police brutality, Americans found themselves grappling with the profound reality of racial injustice deeply rooted in the country's history. The interruption of our daily routines provided a unique opportunity for introspection, prompting many to reflect on their roles in perpetuating systemic racism. I scrutinized my life, paying specific attention to the books I was reading and the authors I supported and resolving to diversify the narratives I consumed. This commitment added a profound layer of fulfillment to my reading life. Tayari Jones's acclaimed 2018 novel, An American Marriage, is the latest stop on this essential literary undertaking.

Celebrating their newfound marital bliss, Celestial and Roy embark on the early stages of their life together as a married couple. With Roy securing a well-paying job and Celestial gaining recognition for her art, their careers flourish, and the prospect of acquiring a larger home materializes. On the surface, they appear to be living the quintessential American dream. However, being a Black couple in the United States, Celestial and Roy are on the verge of realizing that their dream is susceptible to the influence of external forces and systems beyond their control.

Roy's benevolent gesture to aid a stranger takes a nightmarish turn when he faces a damning accusation that shatters his entire life. Despite Celestial's unwavering testimony that Roy was by her side throughout the alleged incident, his plea falls on deaf ears, leading to a twelve-year sentence for a crime he did not commit. The couple initially maintains their connection through regular letters, expressing their enduring commitment and determination to navigate this new reality. As the years pass, though, their lives undergo significant transformations. Can their marriage withstand the weight of this tragedy, or is it yet another instance of a dream shattered by a system indifferent to the personal toll of its inequity?

In An American Marriage, Tayari Jones crafts a poignant portrayal of a couple contending with injustice, delivering a devastating yet essential narrative. Her prose is unfiltered, allowing readers to immerse themselves in the genuine emotions of the protagonists and emphasizing the profound toll of a wrongful conviction on those ensnared by it. Jones delves into how time and distance can reshape and challenge a relationship. Celestial and Roy find themselves intricately connected to the past while navigating toward an uncertain future. The result is a novel brimming with genuine emotion, empathy, and insight. Much like life itself, the story takes an unexpected turn at its conclusion, solidifying the impact of this profound character study. It's a narrative that lingers, prompting reflection on one's position in the world and the relationships surrounding us.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2024, 12)

Can you recall the last book that completely caught you off guard? TJ Klune's The House in the Cerulean Sea has graced countless best-of lists, with many avid readers passionately declaring it one of their all-time favorites. Nevertheless, having experienced disappointment with hyped books before and considering that the novel didn't fall within my usual preferred genre, Klune's work seemed destined to be one of those titles universally loved but not necessarily deserving of my personal exploration. A couple of years had passed since the release of The House in the Cerulean Sea, and the initial fervor had quieted. The book had slipped off my radar until I noticed it on a friend's recent list of year-end favorites. Intrigued by its enduring acclaim, I finally decided to give the book a read. Surprise, surprise—it surpassed my expectations in ways I hadn't imagined.

Linus Baker lives a life steeped in monotony. His dwelling is a typical abode in an average neighborhood, accompanied by a cunning little cat who grudgingly shares his life. Linus diligently commutes to work daily, strictly adhering to rules and regulations. At 40 years old and carrying some extra weight, he may not strike you as someone destined for anything extraordinary. Linus's seemingly mundane job, however, is far from ordinary. Serving as a caseworker for the Department in Charge Of Magical Youth, he oversees the well-being of peculiar children in government-sanctioned orphanages. Unfazed by personality or circumstance, Linus is the epitome of objectivity, unwaveringly devoted to following the rules and content in doing so.

Linus experiences a profound shock when an entirely unexpected event unfolds. Summoned to the office of Extremely Upper Management, he is overcome with worry and fear, questioning why, as an exemplary employee, he would find himself in such a situation. To his surprise, he discovers that he is not facing disciplinary action but is assigned a highly classified case instead. His new task involves investigating Marsyas Island Orphanage, a facility housing children with diverse magical abilities. Rumors circulate that one of these children is none other than the offspring of Satan. Linus must confront his fears and employ his experience and objectivity to determine whether the child is, indeed, the Antichrist.

As I started The House in the Cerulean Sea, I was uncertain about its essence. Klune delivers his fantasy with a straightforwardness that might initially be a bit disconcerting. Rather than meticulously detailing his world's rules, the magic within simply exists, gradually unveiling itself as we progress through the narrative. As someone who seldom delves into the genre, I discovered that this approach resonated more with me than those books that dedicate extensive pages to constructing their worlds. Klune trusts his readers to comprehend the realm he has conjured, and I found myself effortlessly immersed in it.

The protagonist, Linus, embodies the epitome of ordinariness, serving as our conduit to absorb the extraordinary elements of the story. The children in the orphanage may initially appear as various magical beings. As we delve deeper, though, we begin to perceive them for what they truly are—innocent youngsters simply trying to navigate the complexities of life. As Linus acquaints himself with each child and their enigmatic caretaker, a man fiercely protective of his charges, we witness the transformation and understanding that blossoms within him. The narrative evolves into a poignant allegory delving into the essence of love and the worthiness of being loved for simply being oneself. It struck a deep chord with me, and I now see why it has enchanted readers the way it has. Ultimately, The House in the Cerulean Sea unfolds as a love story, a testament reminding us that even those labeled "other" are entitled to the same rights as everyone else.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2024, 8)

Bonnie Garmus's Lessons in Chemistry has gained a reputation as a genuine literary sensation, a rare book that strikes a chord with every reader who picks it up. I've witnessed countless reviewers and fellow book enthusiasts showering the book with praise, and I've been impressed by the diverse range of readers who have fallen under its spell. Always the inquisitive reader, I knew I had to find out what all the fuss was about. I placed the book on hold at my local library earlier this year. As is often the case with highly sought-after titles, I patiently waited while countless other readers took their turn with the book. Finally, my moment has come. I've set aside all my other reading materials to fully immerse myself in this story, eager to understand the source of its acclaim.

Elizabeth Zott is a chemist whose brilliance is beyond dispute, a fact she herself readily acknowledges. However, in the early 1950s, a woman aspiring to any role beyond that of a secretary or traditional housewife is a novel idea. The male colleagues who share her workspace at the Hastings Research Institute perceive Elizabeth as just another woman. In the predominantly male domain of science, she must wage a constant battle to secure acknowledgment for her work, let alone the recognition she deserves. Amid the institutional skepticism and prejudice, there is one exception: Calvin Evans, a Nobel Prize-nominated scientist who truly appreciates Elizabeth's genius. Their initial interactions foster a unique connection. Bound by their shared interests and remarkable intellects, they cultivate a chemistry that transcends the laboratory. Some might even call it love. 

Indeed, life unfolds as a grand experiment, and Elizabeth swiftly discovers its unpredictability. Suddenly, she finds herself navigating the role of a single mother and, quite unwittingly, becoming the host of a public broadcasting cooking show. After all, cooking is a form of science. True to her character, Elizabeth resists conforming to the mold envisioned by her male producers at the TV station. Instead, she approaches cooking with the same straightforward enthusiasm and expertise that she applies to science. To her delight, the unconventional recipe becomes a resounding success. Yet, her newfound influence doesn't sit well with everyone. It becomes clear that Elizabeth Zott isn't merely instructing women in the art of cooking. She's challenging them to question the established norms and instigating a transformation of the status quo.

Lessons in Chemistry is an absolutely crowd-pleasing joy to read. Bonnie Garmus skillfully creates a protagonist who defies conventional expectations, making her a truly compelling character. She adeptly explores the intricacies of gender roles and societal expectations, all while infusing a dark sense of humor that lightens even the more challenging moments in the story. It masterfully navigates difficult subjects without alienating the reader. Garmus intertwines multiple narrative threads, skillfully bringing them together to a gratifying, albeit somewhat conveniently resolved, conclusion. Lessons in Chemistry genuinely stands out as that rare book that appeals to readers of all tastes, irrespective of their genre preferences. The well-deserved hype surrounding this book is entirely justified. Don't hesitate to dive into it.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2023, 77)

How do you decide on your next book to read? Being a book blogger and reviewer, I regularly receive offers from authors and publishers, presenting me with a never-ending stream of new titles. The reality is that there are far more books available than I could ever hope to read. In these situations, I often turn to the recommendations of fellow readers and reviewers to help me discover noteworthy titles. This was precisely how I stumbled upon Lee Matthew Goldberg's latest work, The Great Gimmelmans.

It all began when he shared information about his new book on the platform formerly known as Twitter. A mutual friend of ours, the talented novelist Russell Ricard (whose wonderful book The Truth About Goodbye you should definitely read if you haven't already), spoke highly of Goldberg's writing and encouraged me to explore it for myself. Generously, Goldberg provided me with a copy of the book, and I enthusiastically delved into its pages.

"There's no escaping us, Aaron. You'll always be a Gimmelman."

The book commences with Aaron Gimmelman embarking on a road trip alongside his son, Roark. It becomes evident that Aaron has been largely absent from his son's life, resulting in Roark's behavioral issues. With countless hours of travel before them, Aaron seizes the opportunity to bridge the gap between them by sharing his life story with his son. He chooses to play the audiobook of his memoir, a narrative recounting his turbulent and crime-ridden childhood. As he presses the play button, the reader is also drawn into this narrative.

In 1987, a stock market crash upends the life of young Aaron Gimmelman. His father, Barry, a stockbroker, loses everything in the crash, leaving the family with no savings and on the brink of homelessness. With only their clothes and an RV to their name, the Gimmelman family, consisting of parents Barry and Judith, along with their children Steph, Aaron, and Jenny, embarks on a cross-country journey to Florida in search of a fresh start. Along the way, Aaron begins to grasp the extent of his parents' financial struggles and the sacrifices they've made. Driven by the desire to alleviate their hardships, he resorts to petty theft from a convenience store, unknowingly setting into motion a chain of criminal activities that will forever change their lives.

"Someone is only truly dead where there is no one left to remember them."

In The Great Gimmelmans, Lee Matthew Goldberg has skillfully crafted a novel that seamlessly blends entertainment with emotional depth. This book is a captivating amalgamation of various genres, encompassing elements of a coming-of-age narrative, dark humor, and an enthralling heist story. While the fast-paced plot initially drew me in, it was the well-developed characters that held my attention throughout. Goldberg adeptly intertwines the excitement of a page-turning thriller with thought-provoking musings on parenthood, religion, and the weight of guilt. Each of these resonates powerfully within the narrative.

The characters in the story are multifaceted, each grappling with their own imperfections, grounding them in a relatable reality while participating in the larger-than-life events of the plot. Goldberg presents the story as a book within a book, a creative choice culminating in a poignant and multi-layered ending. The Great Gimmelmans is an exceptional novel that deserves a spot on every reader's must-read list. If, like me, you often choose your next read based on recommendations from fellow readers, consider this my enthusiastic endorsement for this remarkable book.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2023, 74)

Colson Whitehead stands out as a rare and exceptional talent that most authors can only aspire to be. He holds the remarkable distinction of being the sole living writer to have achieved the prestigious Pulitzer Prize in Fiction twice. His acclaimed novels, The Underground Railroad and The Nickel Boys, offer profound and vivid portrayals of America's history of racism.

In a departure from those celebrated works, Whitehead's last novel, Harlem Shuffle, took a different narrative path. Set in the 1960s, it followed the story of Ray Carney, a furniture salesman in the vibrant heart of Harlem. While the exploration of themes related to race and class persisted, the overall tone of the book shifted toward a more playful and ironic sensibility. Despite a few instances of uneven pacing, I was still captivated by the depiction of a man teetering on the edge between ethical righteousness and a life of crime.

As an ardent fan of Whitehead's skillful writing, I was already committed to exploring whatever literary journey he would embark on after Harlem Shuffle. To my pleasant surprise, his latest offering, Crook Manifesto, was released as the second chapter in an anticipated trilogy centered around Ray Carney. True to the essence of the first book, Whitehead once more whisks his readers away to the vibrant streets of Harlem, this time capturing the city during the dynamic political and societal shifts that unfolded in the 1970s.

This second installment is structured into three distinct vignettes, each unfolding within a specific year. The initial narrative segment commences in 1971. Ray Carney has now assumed ownership of the building housing his furniture store. With the passage of time, Carney has matured and gained wisdom, choosing to abandon his shady past and pursue an honest business approach. While he sometimes yearns for the days of illicit gains and effortless wealth, the integrity and honor accompanying his newfound approach bring a sense of security and personal satisfaction that he finds difficult to ignore.

This newfound stability is disrupted when his teenage daughter, Mae, presents an impossible request—tickets to the Jackson 5 concert. This poses a challenge, as Carney lacks a lawful means to fulfill her wish. Determined to navigate this dilemma, Carney contacts his former police connection, Munson, a skillful fixer. Munson, however, has his own demands to make of Carney. Staying on the path of legitimacy becomes increasingly difficult, and the stakes rise to a potentially fatal level.

The subsequent two sections further capture Harlem's ongoing transformation. In 1973, Carney's previous partner in crime, Pepper, grapples with assembling a dependable crew for planned criminal activities. This situation compels Pepper to secure an honest job as security for a Blaxploitation film being shot in the neighborhood. However, Pepper's expectations of glamour are met with an unexpected immersion in a surreal world of Hollywood celebrities, emerging comedians, and celebrity drug dealers.

The final part unfolds in 1975, coinciding with America's bicentennial celebration. As Carney contemplates a July 4th ad that aligns with his moral compass ("Two Hundred Years of Getting Away with It!"), his wife Elizabeth advocates for her childhood friend, former assistant D.A. turned aspiring politician Alexander Oakes. Following a fire that inflicts severe injuries on a tenant, Carney seeks Pepper's assistance in identifying the culprit, plunging the unscrupulous duo into a confrontation with the city's corrupt, violent, and ethically compromised underbelly.

Following the relatively self-contained narrative of Harlem Shuffle, Crook Manifesto faces the challenge of organically expanding the character's journey, a feat deftly achieved by Colson Whitehead. Where the initial book witnessed protagonist Ray Carney grappling with his descent into criminality, this installment depicts the character embracing the inevitability of this path as the changing world demands adaptation. Divided into shorter vignettes, the book offers a collection-of-stories feel, interwoven through the vivid Harlem backdrop, historical events, and the multifaceted main character. With an amplified humor element, Whitehead juxtaposes weighty societal shifts with moments of levity, such as a hilariously entertaining fried chicken heist. However, in line with similar middle installments of trilogies, a sense of closure is lacking, leaving the narrative feeling abrupt and incomplete. Perhaps this impression will evolve with the final book's context, but for now, Crook Manifesto is a darkly humorous exploration of a man's evolution in response to changing times—imperfect yet compelling.

For more information visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2023, 53)