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January is flying by – with some snow, lots of twinkle lights, and a sweet yoga teacher training graduation. Amid all that, here’s what I have been reading:

The Radiant Dark, Alexandra Oliva
Does intelligent life exist elsewhere? In Oliva’s narrative, a transmission from a distant planet known as Ross 128 b tips the answer toward yes – and powerfully shapes the lives of one family. New mother Carol believes the message has spiritual implications; later, her daughter Rosanna will grow up to become a scientist working on transport to other planets. This bittersweet novel has “first contact” as its framing, but it’s really about mothers and children, generational cycles, and the ways the past reverberates down the decades. To review for Shelf Awareness (out April 28).

Cece Rios and the Desert of Souls, Kaela Rivera
I snagged this middle-grade novel for $4 at the Booksmith and enjoyed the story of Cece, who tries to become a bruja (witch) to rescue her kidnapped sister from the dark criatura El Sombrerón. I loved watching Cece stay true to herself, even as she ventures into dangerous territory, and the Mexican/Indigenous/Southwestern mythology was fascinating.

The Fortune Flip, Lauren Kung Jessen
Hazel Yen is having a rough luck patch, even for her: divorced, laid off, struggling with her dad’s gambling habit. Logan Wells is used to things going his way. When they collide at a fortune-teller’s table, they get a joint fortune – or does their luck get switched? I loved this sweet, funny NYC rom-com with two leads who were both thoughtful and fun; I also adored Logan’s job as a Broadway-show carpenter and Hazel’s new gig at a candy store. Charming. To review for Shelf Awareness (out March 17).

From Cradle to Grave, Rhys Bowen
I’m a longtime fan of Bowen’s fun historical mystery series featuring Lady Georgiana O’Mara (nee Rannoch), cousin to the British royal family. This 19th (!) book finds Georgie digging for connections between four seemingly unrelated deaths of young aristocratic men. She’s also dealing with a tyrannical nanny, foisted upon her by her odious sister-in-law. I cheered as Georgie stood up to several bullies, and the mystery was great fun, as always.

Escape from Capitalism: An Intervention, Clara E. Mattei
Mattei, an Italian economist, lays out some of the amoral features of capitalism and argues that unemployment and poverty are actually features of the system. She also highlights capitalism’s ties to fascism, and the ways it is set up to make the rich richer (as we are seeing). Smart and thoughtful – if a bit dense at times. I wanted more from the final chapter about alternative systems. I received an ARC (out Jan. 27).

Last Dance Before Dawn, Katharine Schellman
I’ve loved Schellman’s sparkling, sharp-edged mystery series featuring the Nightingale, a speakeasy in Prohibition-era NYC. This fourth and final book follows waitress/dressmaker Vivian Kelly as she tracks down both her long-elusive family and some answers to a mystery that has a local gangster sniffing around the Nightingale. Surprises ensue, including a couple of twists I didn’t see coming. I’ve loved watching Vivian grow as a character and I like the ensemble cast, including Vivian’s bartender/brother-in-law Danny Chin and the Nightingale’s enigmatic owner, Honor Huxley.

Shut Up and Read: A Memoir from Harriett’s Bookshop, Jeannine A. Cook
Cook’s memoir delves into her journey as a bookseller, opening and running Harriett’s Bookshop in Philly (2020-present) while trying to find her voice as a writer. She writes about her work in community organizing, mentoring the shop’s Youth Conductors, her push-pull relationship with her father, and the women who have mentored and inspired her, including Lorene Cary and Harriett Tubman herself. To review for Shelf Awareness (out March 10).

Most links (not affiliate links) are to my local fave Brookline Booksmith. Shop indie!

What are you reading?

Hello, friends. It’s a new year, and despite (more) wild headlines and plenty of tasks on the to-do list, I am (as always) making time to read. Here’s the latest roundup:

The Benevolent Society of Ill-Mannered Ladies, Alison Goodman
My coworker (and book buddy) Stef has been raving about this smart Regency mystery, featuring middle-aged twin sisters who (almost by accident) start a new sideline rescuing women held captive by their husbands or male relatives. I loved acerbic narrator Augusta (“Gus”) and the shenanigans she gets up to; I also adored her love interest, a lord turned highwayman. Can’t wait to read the sequel.

The Pōhaku, Jasmin ‘Iolani Hakes
I flew through this captivating historical novel following a sacred Hawaiian stone (the titular pōhaku) and the fortunes of the family tasked with protecting it. I loved the narrative voice of the grandmother telling her granddaughter the story, and the adventures of several women (from Hawai’i to California and back again). I did think the ending stumbled a bit. But I have been fascinated by Hawai’i’s history since I spent part of a summer in Honolulu, 20 years ago. This was a fascinating slice of that history, plus a scathing indictment of white men’s exploitation of Native peoples on both sides of the Pacific. To review for Shelf Awareness (out Feb. 3).

Writers and Lovers, Lily King
At 31, Casey Peabody is struggling to make a go of her writing life, as she grieves her mother and pulls double shifts at a Cambridge restaurant. King writes well about anxiety, grief, feeling stuck and the challenges of being a writer; I loved the Boston details, and there are some great pithy lines. But the middle seriously dragged; I found Casey frustrating (and she had terrible taste in men).

The Hummingbirds’ Gift: Wonder, Beauty, and Renewal on Wings, Sy Montgomery
I flew (ha) through this slim book packed with facts about hummingbirds and an account of the author’s experience helping nurture two orphaned baby hummers. A little thin at only 80 pages, but fascinating.

And Then There Was You, Sophie Cousens
I usually love Cousens’ witty, sweet rom-coms. This one was a bit unusual: Chloe, struggling in her job as a film PA, agrees to a trial period with an AI-bot boyfriend (!) and takes him to her Oxford college reunion. I adored the Oxford details, and I loved the ending; the book also asks interesting questions about relationships. But (as with Casey, above) the middle dragged and I got frustrated with Chloe.

Most links (not affiliate links) are to my local fave Brookline Booksmith. Shop indie!

What are you reading?

Back in the office this week, I was chatting with my book-buddy coworker about our vacation reading, including various books in genres we both love. (We are British mystery fans and historical fiction lovers, though she adores horror and I’m a scaredy-cat.)

We eventually swapped notes on the latest novel by a blockbuster rom-com author. I’ve read a handful of her books, but this was Stefanie’s first. We discussed the plot and eventually agreed that it was…fine.

I like this author’s stories, but I’ve never loved a single one; I can’t remember the names of most of her characters, or their settings (with the exception of a vacation home in Maine). Both Stef and I display far more passion when we’re fangirling over authors/series we both love (Susanna Kearsley, Mimi Matthews, the Marlow Murder Club) or geeking out about our respective niche obsessions. (Hers include the bubonic plague, Scottish history, and stories about twins, since she is one. I adore British interwar fiction, books about books, essay collections or novels by poets, and historical fiction involving fashion.)

Our conversation reminded me of a recent comment by another friend: it’s hard, she said, to like something casually right now.

Our entertainment culture, fed and fueled by social media, rewards passion and fervor and deep-dive obsession. For every series or franchise or intellectual property, there seems to be a fandom, rabid and intense. You run the risk of being shamed or scoffed at if you can’t remember arcane details. It can feel like everyone is expected to have an opinion on everything, all the time. (Culturally, this goes far beyond engaging with media, but it still applies to the topic at hand.)

It’s impossible. And it’s exhausting.

I read, on average, more than 200 books a year. I am not a casual reader, but by default, I engage with some of those books casually. Not every one of them is going to become a favorite; I’ll be lucky if I remember half of them, a few years later. Similarly, not all of them will be five-star reads. Some books I’ll finish just because I want to know what happens, or because a friend assured me I’d love it, rather than because I’m passionate about the writing or the characters. My reading diet, like my regular diet, will contain a mix of the extraordinary and the meat-and-potatoes ordinary. And – at least for me – that’s just fine.

Casual engagement – while respecting the tremendous effort expended by an author or musician or filmmaker to create a piece of art – is a perfectly acceptable response to a book or film, an album or song. I don’t have to love every book, memorize every song, rewatch every movie a dozen times or write an album’s lyrics on my very soul. I especially don’t have to obsess over something just because it’s popular, like the author above. I can like it casually – enjoy it, even – and then let it go.

Not everything is for everyone, and also, I think engaging casually with many of the media we read/hear/see helps make room for us to truly love our favorites. I’m better able to hold a painting or a novel or a TV series in my heart – I’m looking at you, Klimt’s Pear Tree and The Correspondent and All Creatures Great and Small – if I don’t feel obligated to love or obsess over every one I see.

What do you think? Are you also in favor of casual engagement, even in a world that seems disinclined to allow it? I’m curious to hear.

lamont quad light sky

Back in November, I revised last winter’s newsletter about apricity and sent it in to the Four Tulips contest on the theme of “cozy.” To my surprise and delight, my piece received an honorable mention – a fun early Christmas gift in my inbox.

If you’d like, you can read my essay (along with a host of cozy others) over at Four Tulips.

Happy New Year, friends. I hope you’re finding some apricity in this season. I’ll be back with more soon.

fiction essentials sign strand bookstore

The end of December included Texas skies, three plane rides, a lot of tacos, and playing various sports and games, mostly with my nephews. It also did not include much reading. But for the sake of my type-A sanity and my longtime tradition of posting reading roundups, here are the two books I finished before 2025 ended:

Death and Dinuguan, Mia P. Manansala
I’ve enjoyed Manansala’s cozy mystery series featuring Filipina-American Lila Macapagal, her extended family, and the cafe she co-runs with two friends. This final mystery dragged, mostly because I had a hard time caring about the central murder plot. And as another reviewer said, I missed seeing Lila’s nosy godmothers in action!

The Riviera House, Natasha Lester
I love Lester’s big, sweeping historical novels about brave women, and this one was fantastic. It follows Éliane, who works at Paris’s Jeu de Paume during World War II; she observes, records and tries to prevent the theft of thousands of artworks by the Nazis. Decades later, an Australian woman flees to the titular house on the French Riviera after a tragedy; she meets an intriguing man and discovers that the house, and her past, may be connected to Éliane. Vivid, heart-pounding, meticulously researched and so good; perfect airplane reading.

Most links (not affiliate links) are to my local fave Brookline Booksmith. Shop indie!

What are you reading?

in 2025 I have…

  • completed most of a yoga teacher training program through my home studio, The Point East Boston
  • seen five shows on Broadway (Ragtime, Joy, Just in Time, Hadestown, Maybe Happy Ending) and a whole lot of wonderful local theater in Boston
  • spent 4 solo weekends in NYC
  • grown (or kept alive) geraniums, paperwhites, pothos plants, a new African violet, and that fern I’ve been nursing since 2019
  • visited my Texas loved ones three times
  • hosted my parents for a crisp October visit to Boston
  • traveled out west to thaw out and see dear friends in Arizona and San Diego
  • read roughly 240 books
  • reviewed several dozen of those books for Shelf Awareness
  • interviewed several authors for the Shelf, including Karen Dukess, Sam Wachman and Jeff Chu
  • had a minor skin-cancer surgery, which was both not a big deal and (for a few weeks) an extremely Big Deal
  • marked four years at ZUMIX, my joyful, creative, fun workplace
  • attended several protests against the cruelty and absurdity of the current administration
  • reconnected unexpectedly with both my exes
  • spent many Sundays soaking up the music and nourishment at Mem Church
  • continued taking care of pets in my neighborhood
  • attended two joyous weddings of dear friends
  • gone to a handful of wonderful concerts, mostly at Club Passim
  • visited my sweet college roommate in Nashville
  • run several hundred miles, and taken a lot of walks
  • sung in two different holiday choirs
  • published a dozen-ish posts on my Substack, including musings on poetry, parties and birthdays

What has this year looked like for you?

December, so far, has been a whirlwind of sparkly chaos. Between Christmas carols, open mics, freezing winds and a bit of yoga, here’s what I have been reading:

The Secret Book Society, Madeline Martin
I’d heard great things about this novel following a group of women in London who band together to resist/escape their awful husbands and fathers, through the power of books. It was…fine? I’m all for a literary empowerment story, but the characters felt one-dimensional and most of the men felt like cartoon villains to me.

The Christmas You Found Me, Sarah Morgenthaler
A friend lent me this lovely holiday romance, in which just-divorced Sienna agrees to a marriage of convenience with a single dad whose four-year-old daughter needs a kidney. Of course, she falls in love with both the dad and daughter, especially when they come to live on her Idaho ranch close to Christmas. Sweet but not saccharine, with surprising depth (and peppermint brownies!).

The Astral Library, Kate Quinn
Quinn’s latest takes us to the titular magical library, which offers shelter and sanctuary to those who need it – in the pages of books. Narrator Alix Watson – a tough-talking, down-on-her-luck former foster kid – is thrilled to help the Librarian, until she realizes the Library is under sinister attack. A wild ride ensues, involving dragons, book-jumping, fantabulous couture outfits, and a tribute to libraries and freedom of information. Smart, gripping and so much fun. To review for Shelf Awareness (out Feb. 17).

There She Goes: New Travel Writing By Women, ed. Esa Aldegheri
I stumbled on this collection at my beloved Three Lives in NYC and was delighted to discover my friend Roxani is a contributor. These essays examine travel through a feminine/feminist lens: mountaineering, traveling “home from home” (Roxani’s essay), traveling with or for or because of partners and children; simply moving through the world as a woman. Whip-smart, keen-eyed and compelling.

Cleo Dang Would Rather Be Dead, Mai Nguyen
I loved Nguyen’s sharp, funny debut, Sunshine Nails, about a Vietnamese-Canadian family struggling to keep their nail salon afloat. This, her second novel, follows the title character as she flounders after her infant daughter’s death. Cleo begins working at a funeral home, which helps in an odd way – but she takes a long time to face her grief and her unhealthy coping mechanisms. Darkly funny, and I liked the ending, but the story dragged in the middle. To review for Shelf Awareness (out April 14).

An Episode of Sparrows, Rumer Godden
I borrowed this novel from a friend and flew through it once I started; it concerns a square of prosperous houses in postwar London and a gang of street children who steal some earth from the Square to make a secret garden. Vivid and evocative, despite most of the adult characters being a bit blurry; the details of the Square, the Street and the Garden are indelible.

Vianne, Joanne Harris
I’ve loved Vianne Rocher’s story since I read and saw Chocolat (around the same time) as a college student. Harris’ writing is exquisite, and I’ve adored reading the sequels. This prequel takes us back to 20-year-old Vianne, newly bereaved and pregnant, struggling to find her way in Marseille in 1993. I savored this one, not wanting it to end; I loved watching Vianne learn to make chocolate, make friends, and make her own choices instead of following her mother’s path. Lyrical and mysterious.

Shepherds Abiding, Jan Karon
I pick up this sweet Mitford Christmas novel most years around this time. I love the story of Father Tim restoring a derelict Nativity scene for his wife; I also relish watching other Mitford characters approach the season in their own ways. Always worth a reread.

Most links (not affiliate links) are to my local fave Brookline Booksmith. Shop indie!

What are you reading?

My one little word for 2025 was wholeness.

I haven’t written much about it here, or even in my journal (or elsewhere). It’s been more of a background word: a quiet, steady presence through the whole year, as I’ve gone running and walked to work and taken a million yoga classes (and spent some months learning how to teach them).

I’ve spent the past two years learning how to be whole on my own, after a breakup knocked me sideways in ways I wasn’t expecting. I’ve also spent this year rooting more deeply into my Eastie life: into concerts and open mics and daily encounters in this neighborhood, where I never expected to land, but have now spent six and a half (and counting) happy years.

Wholeness, as I read on Cup of Jo a million years ago, means all the beautiful and difficult parts of life: the entire mosaic, from small frustrations to deep pain, from ordinary pleasures to heart-melting joys.

Through a long, complicated, often joyful, sometimes challenging year, I’ve found it helpful to focus on the concept of wholeness as a way to remind myself that it all belongs (as my friends at Pantsuit Politics like to say). Complex feelings like ambivalence and grief; joy even in the midst of suffering; personal excitement against the backdrop of heartbreaking headlines: it’s all part of the messy, poignant project of living.

Contrary to the airbrushed positivity we often see online, or the toxic everything-happens-for-a-reason faith culture I grew up in (and grew out of), a complex (often jumbled) mixture of experiences and emotions is reality. This is the deeply layered light of being human, and it helps to name it, to recognize that wholeness is a more realistic (and, honestly, a richer) goal than simply striving for happiness. It helps, too, on a frustrating day, to remember that even a broken washing machine or a lack of sleep or biting winter winds (all part of my present reality) can still contribute to my wholeness. It all belongs. And it all matters.

I’ll be following a different word in 2026, but will keep wholeness tucked into my pocket, to reach for on those days when it feels like nothing makes sense. It may not line up neatly in the moment – or for years to come! – but it all belongs. It all matters.

Wholeness, of course, can also mean healing, and I’ve done some good work in that direction this year. And, as I pursue my own wholeness, I have a responsibility to help contribute to making the world – or at least my little corner of it – more whole. I’ll be doing that, too, as the calendar turns.

Did you follow a word this year? If so, what has it taught you?

papercuts jp bookstore twinkle lights

December is flying – I say this every month, but it’s particularly true during this sparkly, chaotic time. Amid dog walks and choir rehearsals, here’s what I have been reading:

Last Night at the Telegraph Club, Malinda Lo
I loved this historical queer YA novel, set in San Francisco during the 1950s. Lily Hu feels safe (but occasionally stifled) in her neighborhood of Chinatown, but things begin to shift when her new friend Kathleen introduces her to the Telegraph Club – a nightclub catering primarily to lesbians – and lily begins exploring her own sexuality. So many layers about family, community, identity and ambition (Lily wants to work on rockets, like her aunt). Powerful and vivid.

Anne of Avonlea, L.M. Montgomery
I adore this second book in the Anne series, in which Anne begins her teaching career, has a few adventures, and grows more fully into herself. I especially love her delight in the small details of life, and her devotion to her ideals of kindness, hard work and love.

Murder on the Marlow Belle, Robert Thorogood
The Marlow Murder Club is back – and they’re investigating a murder on a boat. The victim and all the suspects are involved in the local amateur dramatic society, so Judith ends up joining the society’s production of The Importance of Being Earnest. A highly entertaining entry in this fun series.

The Horizon Never Forgets, Steven T. Moore
Steven is a longtime professor at my alma mater, and a longtime friend of mine. These poems are raw, vivid and stunning – about his mother, his travels, and the experience of being a Black man in America. Often lovely; quite powerful.

The Geomagician, Jennifer Mandula
Mary Anning, an experienced fossil hunter, has long yearned to join the all-male ranks of the Geomagical Society of London. When she discovers a pterodactyl egg – and it hatches – Mary’s dream seems within reach. But she must deal with Society politics, labor issues and tricky personal dynamics – related to both her former fiance and the man who’s like a father to her. This dragged a bit in the middle, but I enjoyed it. To review for Shelf Awareness (out March 31).

Most links (not affiliate links) are to my local fave Brookline Booksmith. Shop indie!

What are you reading?

About a million years ago, my college pal Dani (a true friend and a good writer) wrote a blog post about the manic, joyous energy of the Christmas season. Her phrase, “hurtling toward festivity,” has stuck in my mind all these years, and that’s definitely where we are this December.

So far, I’ve helped organize a new Eastie holiday choir; made custom LEGO minifigs for my colleagues’ staff holiday gifts; read scripture at the Mem Church carol service; and agreed to dog-sit for a neighbor (because I am a crazy person). I am also still rehearsing for the Christmas choir I sing in every year; finishing up holiday shopping; wrapping up the year at ZUMIX and yoga teacher training; and trying to dip into my Advent book and breathe occasionally.

In these full, wild, occasionally frigid (but bright) December days, here’s what’s saving my life now:

What’s saving your life in these busy, sparkly days?

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