Author: Vanessa Diaz

This book was my big white whale, a book I’ve picked up and put down several times and finally tackled in the final days of 2020. At an elite college tucked away in Vermont, a group of eclectic misfits opt to study Ancient Greek—and only Ancient Greek—under the tutelage of a charismatic and unconventional professor. We learn right away that the narrator and his friends have committed a murder, then slowly come to understand how the bubble of a world they’ve crafted for themselves may have facilitated the crime, one where the self-importance runs high and the boundaries of ethics and morality are blurred. This is me putting it very, very simply so that you might experience the entirety of this beautiful mess for yourself.

Book Club Bonus: This is a little longer than I’d normally suggest for book club, and many of you may have already conquered it. I’m tossing it in anyway because it’s a polarizing read rich with book club potential. I really was not a fan of The Goldfinch and was scared Donna Tartt may just not be for me, especially since there are some definite similarities in pace and the characters’ drug, drink, and angst-filled ennui. But the slow revelation of each character’s background and motivation in The Secret History was both maddening and ingenious to me, plus the searing critique of elitist institutions. You may agree or want to chuck this book at the wall—discuss!

TW: eating disorders and body stuff (not quite body horror, per se, but think the physical toll of dancing on the body).

Gigi, Bette, and June are three young ballerinas at the intensely competitive American Ballet Conservatory in New York City. Kind and lighthearted Gigi is the only Black girl at the school and just wants to dance, but the act could literally kill her. Privileged New Yorker Bette is a piece of work (!!!) dancing in the shadow of her ballet-star sister, and she’ll stop at nothing to end up on top. June is a dangerous perfectionist who has to land a lead role this year to keep her mother from pulling her from the school, and she too is ready to do so by any means necessary. Feathers are ruffled (understatement!) when Gigi is chosen for the role of Sugar Plum Fairy in the school’s Nutracker performance, and an absolute mess of a scandal ensues. I caught myself holding my breath over and over while reading this book and gripping it with white knuckles. What a ride!

Book Club Bonus: There’s plenty to discuss about the competitive nature of ballet and all the related pressures, body issues, disordered eating, etc. But also dive into the motivations of the less palatable characters (hurt people hurt people!): none of their dysfunctions exist in a vacuum.

I hope to internalize and put the ideas in this book into practice more in 2021. Reshma Saujani is the founder and CEO of Girls Who Code and starts off by telling us about the time she quit her stable and lucrative career for a disastrous run for political office. She not only lost, she lost hard. The hardest! That moment was a turning point in Saujani’s life and a hell of an epiphany: women are taught to chase perfection since childhood, and that pattern ends up holding us back in adulthood. Through a combo of personal anecdotes and some in-your-face statistics and studies, Saujani challenges readers, especially women, to embrace imperfection and live a bolder life.

Book Club Bonus: You know how bad I am at reading self-help, but this book resonated with me tons and gave me some Year of Yes vibes. Share the ways in which you have and continue to hold yourself back (whether you identify as a woman or not) in the name of perfection. On the flip side, examine how teaching boys to be always be brave and not perfect could be problematic, too.

This novel opens in in 1929 in New Orleans. Adana Moreau has written a work of science fiction about a young Dominican immigrant in search of a lost city, a young woman not unlike herself. The book is a success, so Adana begins to write a sequel only to destroy it when she suddenly becomes ill. Decades later in Chicago, Saul is cleaning out the home of his recently deceased grandfather when he finds the not-so-destroyed-after-all manuscript of Adana’s sequel. How and why does this manuscript exist? Why does his grandfather have it? Saul finds himself in New Orleans in the thick of Katrina in search of answers.

More than a few of my book friends have named this as one of their favorite books of the year. Book Riot’s own Amanda Nelson described it as a “groundbreaking debut novel that folds the legends of Hawaiian gods into an engrossing family saga; a story of exile and the pursuit of salvation.” This might have to be one of my holiday break reads.

This novel is a searing commentary on climate change with some major Lord of the Flies vibes. A group of kids and teens are spending the summer at a lakeside mansion where their parents largely ignore them in their booze, drugs, and sex-induced stupor. When a massive storm descends on the estate, the kids—led by ringleader and narrator Eve—run away into the apocalyptic chaos outside, one of them with a children’s bible in tow. As they seek refuge in an abandoned farm house, the events in the pages of the bible begin to bleed into real life.

You, like me, might kinda think you already know that the fairy tales of the West have major ableist tones, but reading this book really just circles all that’s wrong with those depictions in bright red ink. Able-bodied privilege has kept many of us from thinking critically about the implications of ableist messaging in these beloved stories, from Brothers Grimm to Hans Christian Andersen to the Disney machine. Think about it. The villains are either disfigured in some way or disability is their punishment for being evil. The princesses and princes who find love aren’t ever disabled, or if they are, it’s only after their hideous disfigurement has been shaken off that they find love. Are you cringing? You should be cringing. This #ownvoices book is one I wish I could hand out on the streets.

Never Look Back is a YA retelling of the Orpheus and Eurydice myth by my beloved Lilliam Rivera, the author who won me all the way over in Dealing in Dreams when she named the girl gang in the book “Las Malcriadas.” This reimagining is set in the Bronx and features a cast of Afro-Latinx characters. If you like Pri-de by Iii Zoboi or mythology remixes in general, this book will be right up your alley.

George M. Johnson is a journalist and LGBTQIA+ activist and this is his young-adult memoir. It chronicles his childhood, adulthood, and college years in New Jersey and Virginia while examining gender identity, toxic masculinity, brotherhood, family, structural marginalization, consent, and—this is so important—Black joy. It’s meant to be both a primer for teens who want to be allies and a testimony for young queer men of color. As I’ve said before, toxic masculinity exists in all kinds of communities and I wish more people would take a moment to examine that reality.

This thriller follows Virgil Wounded Horse, a vigilante enforcer on the Rosebud Indian Reservation in South Dakota. When the legal system fails to bring justice to his community, Virgil takes matters into his own hands. His mission gets even more personal when heroin infiltrates the reservation and finds Virgil’s nephew.

Confession: I thought that was a giant rat on the cover wearing a fur coat, like maybe the Rat King from the Nutcracker or something? Wow, Diaz: when you’re wrong, you’re the most wrong. I’m so ashamed!

This thriller is a big time Book Riot favorite and has started to make a lot of the “best of” lists, but I’m still including it because it’s a debut and I want to keep that momentum going. Bug is a family man doing his best to provide for his wife and kids, but life hasn’t exactly dealt him a lucky hand: his garage is struggling, he’s not making ends meet, and now his elderly mother is facing eviction from her nursing home. In a bid for some fast cash, he steps back into a familiar role as a getaway driver, a job he left a long time ago. He goes into it with that “just one more job!” mentality we’ve heard before, pero… ya know. I’ve lost count of how many people have told me that a particular car chase scene in this book is one of the most thrilling and intense scenes they’ve read in a long time.

I always preface this recommendation with the disclaimer that this book is not for the faint of heart. Real talk: I had to put it down because it just contains all the triggers. For those who can handle a darker read and are looking for fic in translation, I want to keep spreading the word about this rising star in Mexican literature. After the death of the town witch in a small Mexican village, the investigation that follows reveals some dark truths about the unreliable inhabitants of its community. Fernanda Melchor isn’t here to mince words; she’s here to shine a white hot light on the ways this community, much like very real communities in Mexico, has been ravaged by drug abuse, poverty, alcoholism, homophobia, and misogyny.

This story set in contemporary Seoul tells the connected stories of four women: one whose many cosmetic procedures have landed her a job at one of Seoul’s “room salons” where wealthy men seek drink and the entertainment of women; a New York art school graduate who’s returned to Seoul and now has a super rich Korean boyfriend; a hair stylist obsessed with K-pop and her best friend’s plans for some pretty extreme cosmetic surgery; and a newlywed struggling to conceive who’s actually unsure if she can really afford to raise a child. Class issues, patriarchy, inequality, crippling beauty standards: what I’m saying is there’s lots to discuss.

Patrice Caldwell took a whole bunch of Black girl magic and bottled it all up in one convenient and beautiful volume. This stellar list of contributors includes Elizabeth Acevedo, Dhonielle Clayton, L.L. McKinney, Ibi Zoboi, and Justina Ireland. Their gorgeous stories center Black women and gender nonconforming individuals through tales of fantasy, science fiction, and magic.

True crime and I have an uneasy relationship: there is definitely such a thing as thoughtful examination of crime, but a lot of what I encounter when the murder of women is involved feels to me more like gross sensationalizing and trauma porn. That’s why I love the premise of this book, which chooses to focus less on the killer (Jack the Ripper, you may have heard of him) and instead gives the victims a voice. It tells their stories rather than just reducing them to a pile of bodies, an angle I am very here for.

This book came out at the very end of 2020 in a move I still don’t 100% understand, so I’m including it in this year’s lineup because it’s such a good convo starter. Alix, a white woman who’s made a career as an influencer, hires Amira, a twenty-something Black woman, to be her young daughter’s babysitter. A surprising connection from Alix’ past and Amira’s present threatens to undo them both. This is a funny, thoughtful read about race and privilege that I don’t think gets enough shine, one that really dives into that whole “the road to hell is paved with good intentions” thing.

This multi-generational story takes us from the Deep South to California and spans the 50s to the 90s. We meet identical twin sisters who are inseparable at birth but go on to lead entirely different lives. One sister eventually goes on to live with her Black daughter in that same town she tried to escape, and the other is passing as white and married to a white man who has no idea that she is Black.They’re separated by just as many miles as lies, but their fates intertwine again when their daughters’ own storylines intersect against all odds.

Gifty is a Ghanian American PhD candidate in neuroscience at Stanford Med where she’s studying depression and addiction by observing the reward-seeking behavior of mice. This work is very personal: she was just a kid when her athlete brother Nana injured his ankle during a high school basketball game and then got hooked on the Oxycontin he was prescribed. After spiraling in his addiction and relapsing almost immediately after a stint in rehab, Nana overdosed on heroine and died. Gifty turns to science to understand Nana’s addiction and the depth of her family’s loss. She also finds herself pulled in by the allure of salvation offered by the faith she thought she’d long abandoned.

I love this book so much, that is no secret. The reason I love it for book club is the way the book approaches/discusses gendered magic. Yadriel is a trans boy who wants more than anything for his super traditional Latinx family to accept him as a man. To prove that he’s a brujo, he performs the sacred coming-of-age ritual wherein brujx come into their powers; with the help of his BFF cousin, he uses his powers to summon the ghost of his murdered cousin and set it free. Prero….. the ghost he summons isn’t his cousin. His name is Julian, he refuses to leave, and he’s what I’ve affectingly dubbed a Hottie McGuapo. The book is inspired by lots of different Dia de los Muertos (Day of the Dead) rituals and is full of Spanish much to my heart’s delight. It’s a sweet, funny and romantic read with great conversation potential.

Black women show up for literally everybody; do we show up for them? Feminism must be intersectional. Period. The sort of prettily photographed stuff you so often see in your Instagram feed leaves Black women behind, concerning itself not with basic survival for the many, but on increasing privilege for the few. If your approach to feminism ain’t inclusive, it’s trash, and this book dives into that idea unflinchingly.

I stand by this advice all these months later: go into this book knowing as little about as possible! Just trust that you’re in good hands, prepare for side-eye, and go forth! It’ll terrify you for reasons that I can’t divulge without entering spoiler territory, but if I can handle it, you can. And like I said before, Alyssa Cole has a whole catalog of wonderful romance novels for you if you do need a palate cleanser when you’re done.

How many times have I raved about t his twisty, unsettling creeper of a book!? Fashionable Mexico City socialite Noemi receives a cryptic letter from her newly-wed cousin Catalina begging to be rescued. Noemi heads to High Place, the creepy ol’ house set in the mountains of Hidalgo where Catalina lives to see what, if anything, she can do. Virgil, Catalina’s English husband, says it’s tuberculosis that lead his wife to write that nonsensical letter, but Noemi isn’t buying that mess. What begins as a slow, simmering uneasiness boils into full blown disturbia as Noemi discovers the secrets hidden in High Place. If you liked the movie Get Out, this has that same something-is-so-wrong-but-gawd-what-is-it vibe that builds up to some serious WTFery. (CW: references to sexual assault and I cannot stress this enough: body horror. Sorry ’bout the mushrooms.)

I have been wanting to own a witchy tea shop since reading The Witches of New York last year and waited a full year to read its sequel during the holidays! As Beatrice, Eleanor, and Adelaide roast chestnuts and melt lead to see their fates, a series of odd messengers come a-callin’ with invitations for each of them. The invites are to an NYE masquerade hosted by a mysterious woman they’ve never met. Who is this woman? Is this a grand and generous gesture or a trap? The witches don their most decadent finery and head for the ball to find out. I do think you should read these in order, so go back and read the first book if you haven’t, then travel to Gilded-Age New York with this treat of a story in the tradition of Victorian winter tales.

Book club bonus: Yes, this book revolves around an enchanted and magical evening, but the women are still witches and thus are walking targets. Talk about the importance of their friendship as a tool for deflecting the accusations and cruelty that are an ever-present part of their world.

I told you this list wan’t going to be all feel-good books and this literary mystery is precisely why. Janina is a reclusive woman in a remote Polish village who minds the homes of well-to-do Polish residents who’ve left town for the brutally cold winter. When a neighbor’s suspicious death is followed by several other equally suspicious deaths, Janina insists that the killings have been at the hands (hooves? paws?) of animals enacting vigilante justice on the vile men who hunted them. The book doesn’t ask who dunnit, but instead asks why. Again, not a “cozy” read in the traditional sense, but the cold just leaps off the page and feels apropos for winter reading.

Book club bonus: There’s no shortage of topics to unpack here, but I like to focus on the roles of empathy, ageism, and man’s impact on the natural world are portrayed.

Winter makes me crave all things magical and this is one of my favorite magical reads of 2020. In a world reminiscent of Regency England, Beatrice Claybourn wants nothing more than to practice magic as a profession. But women don’t get to do that sort of thing; in fact, they’re fitted with a collar that cuts off their powers as soon as soon they’re wed. Beatrice locates a rare grimoire that will help grant her wish to do magic, but another sorceress takes the book right out from under her. Beatrice sets out get the grimoire back and catches major feelings for the stealing sorceress’ hottie brother in the process. Soon she’s faced with an impossible choice: does she give into love, wed this lovely man, and in doing so save her family from destitution at the cost of her hopes and dreams? Or does she follow her heart and turn her back on everyone she loves?

Book club bonus: Did you catch the part about the collar? Could that, I dunno, be a symbol? C.L. Polk is saying big things about the repression and subjugation of women and I am here for all of it. Discuss.

I came across this collection of Christmas tales while looking up Farrah Rochon’s catalog after falling in love with The Boyfriend Project. The stories in this collection whisk us off to a rustic Italian village and a luxury ski resort in Colorado for some holiday romance. I would love to read this with a buddy this winter, if for no other reason that to gush about brown and Black love.

Book club bonus: This year has been a rollercoaster in my reading life, but one thing I learned for sure is how healing it is to take a break from reading about trauma. Those kinds of reads are important too, no doubt. But for real though: people deserve to read about joy. Crack that nut open in book club!