Category: Read This Book

Lucy Clark was dropped off at her grandmother’s house by her globetrotting parents as a baby, and when her grandmother died, she was placed at a horrible boarding school. But when a group of bullies pushes Lucy to the brink and she lashes out, she’s suspended and sent to New York City to live with her cousin and take care of her cousin’s elderly landlady. Lucy expects someone feeble and quiet, but is surprised to find that Edith is glamorous, independent, and certain that someone is trying to kill her. Lucy is taken aback, but the more she learns about Edith’s life, the more she becomes convinced that Edith is telling the truth…and Lucy is the only one who will listen, and therefore the only one who can help.

I was totally delighted by this gentle mystery that isn’t violent or extreme in any way, but still features some terrific suspense and tension. I felt deeply for Lucy, who is deeply lonely and only has her best friend. Her parents are extremely controlling and yet emotionally (and physically) distant, unwilling to listen to Lucy or understand who she is. (Content warning for some disordered eating encouragement from Lucy’s parents.) New York City is a breath of fresh air for Lucy, who’s never before had such freedom, and not been treated as kindly by anyone as she is by Edith since her grandmother died. The friendships in this book are great, and I love that Lucy strikes up true connections with seniors who treat her generously, alongside depictions of friendships her own age. Another bonus is that Lucy is Jewish, and she connects with her best friend over their shared desire to feel connected to their faith and roots, both of which they feel are lacking in their lives. It’s nice to read a book about Jewish teens that isn’t about antisemitism or the Holocaust.

The mystery is also very fun and Agatha Christie-esque, complete with capers, close calls, puzzles and riddles, and at least one daring reveal followed by a dramatic chase. Overall, this is a charming winner of a book, and I loved how it unfolded.

As someone who comes from a similar background, I felt nervous to dive into Jeanna Kadlec’s memoir of growing up in and eventually leaving the evangelical church. Like a lot of white, midwestern families, Kadlec’s family centered the church in their life. If the doors were open, they were there. If the church needed help for an event, they volunteered. Kadlec’s dad wasn’t always a big church person, and Kadlec experienced a lot of grief for that, as if her father’s faith impacted the quality of her own.

Kadlec always struggles to fit in, to make this life work for her, as if by faith alone she could make other people accept her into the community. Wasn’t her relationship with God good enough? She eventually married a pastor’s son and felt like she had achieved the epitome of what everyone else told her God wanted. But even with that, something wasn’t right.

I love the way that Kadlec creates emotional intimacy between her text and the readers. You intensely feel her emotions as she tries to find a place for herself in evangelical faith culture. She allows us to have insight into her mind as she pushes herself to have more faith, to work harder. Maybe if she’s perfect in this way or that, finally everything will click into place, just like she always was told it would.

Of course, it doesn’t. That’s not how the evangelical / fundamentalist brand(s) of Christianity work. I won’t give any spoilers, but suffice it to say, this memoir is in conversation with a lot of other memoirs featuring queer spirituality. Every experience with faith is different. Every denomination and every church is different. But there are universals that span across these differences that touch the heart of life experiences that so many of us can relate to and connect with by reading Kadlec’s memoir.

This delightful little graphic guide has information for a range of people, starting with information on what pronouns are to some advice for people who use gender-neutral pronouns themselves.

The Oxford English Dictionary traces the singular they back to 1375 and most of us are familiar with already using it. For example, if I’m sitting in a restaurant and a group of people at a table nearby leaves I may look over and say, “Oh, someone left their sunglasses.” This book focuses on using they/them pronouns as singular, especially for a person who is nonbinary.

Archie Bongiovanni uses they/them pronouns and their co-author Tristan uses he/him pronouns. I really like that they’ve co-authored because readers get information from both the perspective of the person who uses the pronouns for themself as well as from a person who uses gendered pronouns and has been learning to use gender-neutral pronouns and implemented their use at his restaurant.

There are a number of gender neutral pronouns that a person can use: ve, zie, per and more. While this book focuses on they/them pronouns, everything in this book can be applied to other gender neutral pronouns as well. If you’re looking for reasons why a person might use gender neutral pronouns, that information is not in this book. Truth is, there are many many reasons and it’s not necessary to know why in order to use them.

Archie talks a little bit about how it feels when people misgender them and use the wrong pronouns, and how impact matters more than intent. There’s advice on how to ask for someone’s pronouns (as well as how not to) and what to do if you get someone’s pronouns wrong.

The book also touches a bit on gender neutral pronouns for groups instead of saying “hey guys” or “hey ladies.” There are so many words you can use instead! The book suggests “hey everyone, hey y’all, and hey folks.” Personally, I like to add that “fools, peasants, and people of Earth” are also all gender neutral.

I really appreciate the section on what to do if you witness someone using the wrong pronouns for a friend because I know I tend to get like a deer in headlights when that happens around me so it helps to practice having something prepared while making sure to talk with your friend first. There’s also a section for folks who are non-binary where Archie gives some advice on coming out and finding support.

Hal grew up a boardwalk “psychic” alongside her mom, hustling tourists by reading their cards. But things have been hard for Hal lately — her mom died recently, and she’s in over her head financially with some very bad people. So when the letter arrives, proclaiming that Hal is a beneficiary of Mrs. Westaway’s will, it seems like it’s too good to be true. And it is, because Hal’s mom wasn’t related to Mrs. Westaway, despite what the letter says. But Hal is desperate, and if she can just play the game and get a little windfall, maybe she get ahead. Only, once she arrives at Mrs. Westaway’s estate, ready to give the performance of her lifetime, she’s stunned to realize that maybe her mom had a few secrets of her own…and Hal is not safe until they’re all uncovered.

Ruth Ware has often been proclaimed the Agatha Christie of our time, and while it’s true she’s a really great writer of mystery, thriller, and suspense novels, I would argue that she has her own flair. However, of all of Ware’s books this one feels the most like an homage to Christie, and it has a deliciously creepy and stately setting in the old Westaway family estate, complete with an assortment of dissatisfied to conniving relatives who are all shocked to learn of Hal’s existence. I love the tension that arises between Hal keeping her own secret about her identity and her con, and slowly realizing that the Westaway family is not at all what she thinks. There are some really good classic mystery elements here, and a touch of unknown. While you might not be surprised by every twist and turn, there are some very satisfying reveals and a few surprises that you might not see coming. It’s one of those books that will have you thinking, I truly don’t know what the outcome of this book might be, and that’s really satisfying in a mystery, I think! Mrs. Westaway, although dead before the book begins, had a strong presence throughout the story which lends to the air of intrigue. Of all Ware’s books, this is my favorite and you can’t go wrong picking it up!

Happy reading,
Tirzah

Bodie Kane is returning to her former high school to teach classes in film history and podcasting for a special two-week course. When one of her students decides to make the murder of Thalia, Bodie’s former roommate, the subject of their project, Bodie is sucked back into the same mystery that haunted the end of her high school career. A man named Omar Evans was convicted of the crime, but now Bodie wonders if he’s actually at fault.

As her students mull over the case, Bodie finds herself engulfed by memories from visiting her favorite spots around campus. If that wasn’t enough, her estranged husband is accused of sexual misconduct, and Bodie finds herself sucked into the resulting Twitter storm.

I Have Some Questions for You contains an incredible number of different narrative threads that could have easily become far too entangled. However, Makkai carefully weaves her story with an intense attention to details, sticking the landing and ending on the perfect note.

I enjoyed The Great Believers, her previous novel, but I LOVED I Have Some Questions for You, which, in my opinion, is Makkai at her best. With the novel’s narrative, the author is looking at some big questions around America’s obsession with true crime. I especially appreciated her commentary on the role of social media in matters of cases that have huge true crime followings. But Makkai doesn’t tie up her plot points with neat little bows. She challenges readers to come to their own conclusions.

Audiobook narrator superstar, Julia Whelan, performs the audiobook. She’s so good I would have listened to the audiobook purely based on the fact that she narrates the audio edition. But combined with Makkai’s excellent storytelling, Whelan’s performance is just the icing on the cake. Whatever way you choose to read this book, you are in for an incredible reading experience.

I love a book with footnotes and even more than that, I love a book that uses most of the footnotes just to add snark and sassy comments. This book does exactly that and more.

Elsa Sjunneson is a four-time Hugo Award finalist, a professor, a sword fighter, a dancer, and very, very witty. She is also a Deafblind woman with partial vision in one eye and bilateral hearing aids. Every time I read something from a disabled writer, whether it be a memoir, essay, or Tweet, I realize how my perceptions of certain disabilities have been shaped by media, which is tremendously shitty at portraying disability! Sjunneson really digs into this as this book is part memoir and part examination of how disability (primarily characters who are Deaf or blind) are portrayed in the media. She also writes about the intersections between Deafblind, being a woman, and being queer. I appreciate that before digging in, Sjunneson lays some groundwork and really asks readers to examine what we think when we hear that someone is Deaf, blind, or Deafblind, such as the assumption that all Deaf people speak ASL or that all blind folks can read braille. Both are far from true.

This is not a book to look to if you’re looking for inspiration porn. The only thing you should be inspired to do after reading this book is to tear down systemic ableism. It was an intense read, each page making me angrier and angrier (and then laughing at the author’s snark) and then breaking my heart.

Sjunneson tackles the subject of Helen Keller right near the beginning of the book which makes sense considering that Helen Keller may be the only Deafblind person many people know of. This chapter alone is worth the price of admission. I can be nothing other than absolutely horrified by The Miracle Worker. The author doesn’t shy away from calling out even the most beloved properties like Star Wars, Star Trek, and Daredevil.

She also talks about things like dating, catcalling, and sexual assault when a person is disabled. Content warnings for explicit depictions of ableism, school bullying, sexual assault and abuse and references to caregiver murder, police brutality, emotional abuse, and physical abuse.

When she was a teenager, Emma Blair couldn’t wait to get out of Acton, MA, excited to travel the world rather than find herself stuck in her family’s bookstore. When she falls for Jesse when she’s 17, they both get out of Massachusetts and head to L.A., where they build a life together, traveling the world. But then a year after their wedding, Jesse is in a helicopter over the Aleutian Islands when it crashes, and he’s lost. Emma is devastated, and unable to face a future without her husband, she goes home to Acton. A couple of years later, she runs into Sam, and finds the courage to fall in love again. Emma and Sam get engaged, and then mere months before their wedding, Emma receives a phone call. Jesse is alive. And he’s coming home.

Taylor Jenkins Reid explores an impossible choice in this book, which is plenty heartbreaking but also heartwarming. The author starts with the moment that Emma learns that her husband is still alive and then weaves back in time to tell of Emma and Jesse’s love story, Emma’s grief, and how she finds love again with Sam. Despite covering many years and lots of ground, the book is really compelling and moves very quickly. It’s about falling in love and losing love, but it’s also about finding the courage to build the life you’ve always dreamed of…and finding the courage to reimagine your future after devastating loss. I loved watching Emma’s character growth as she grew up, and as she was impacted by circumstances outside of her control. Her story is a reminder that we are more resilient than we know, and that the meaning of true love may not be as straightforward as we think.

Bonus: The audiobook is narrated by Julia Whelan, and the movie adaptation looks marvelous — it’s out in early April. Check out the trailer.

Lamya and her family move to a country where her dad can get a better paying job. There, she attends a Muslim international school where she struggles to make friends and connect with the other girls. And when she’s fourteen, she realizes she is gay. At first, she tries to ignore it, but her feelings won’t just disappear.

When Lamya moves to the U.S. for college, she begins to make a life for herself outside of her family’s traditions and the societal limitation of the Middle Eastern country where she grew up. But she still feels connected to her faith. As she starts living as a hijab-wearing queer person in her new life in New York City, she begins to realize that a lot of the members of the queer community struggle to understand why she still wears her hijab.

Hijab Butch Blues is structured around stories from the Quran. With each new section, Lamya connects her story back to her faith and the familiar stories of the prophets she grew up reading about as a girl. Lamya beautifully weaves together her identity as a queer person and her identity as a Muslim. She can’t have one without the other.

Lamya’s story is so intimate as she lets us into her world. She describes her experience working through her identity, finding her way as a queer person. Lamya’s story pushes back against the idea of the singular queer narrative, that there is only one way to be queer. Lamya celebrates her life, her identity, in all of its many facets and complexities.

Ashraf Shirazi performs the audiobook edition, and her narration creates such emotional intimacy between Lamya’s story and her listeners. If you’re an audiobook fan, this is definitely one to pick up in audio.

The author first talks about the definition of love and how everyone seems to have a different definition. The love she is talking about is not a mere feeling. It’s not the idea of love you fall into, unaware and unavoidable. The love that hooks is talking about in this book is a choice. It’s an action and it’s something you choose to do over and over as well as something you choose to open yourself up to.

She goes on to write about how everyone assumes that people learn how to love in the homes they grew up in but that’s not necessarily true. She talks about the skewed idea that someone can both love a child and be abusive toward them. She posits that love cannot exist where there is abuse. Care can exist and kindness can exist but love cannot. She also writes about how love cannot exist in a place where there is no honesty.

I especially appreciated her chapters about community and healing, how no one heals alone, and healing as a communion. hooks writes a lot about how capitalism and narcissism and individualism make it practically impossible for us to love each other or ourselves and, in effect, make it impossible to heal.

There is a section on death that really made me see death in a different way because yes, in death there is love. She suggests that in the U.S. we have a fear of life. That we learn it’s dangerous to celebrate too much or to be optimistic or hopeful about something because we might get hurt. By not doing the celebrating and not having hope or optimism, we are denying ourselves the opportunity to love life.

This book was a heavy read but I’m really glad I read it and I hope you do too.

Maizy Chen and her mom live in L.A. and Maizy has never visited her grandparents, who live in Last Chance, MN where they run the Golden Palace, a Chinese restaurant that’s been operating for generations. But now Maizy’s grandfather is sick, and so they head to Minnesota one summer until he gets better. There, Maizy gets a first hand look at where her mom grew up (and a few hints about why she never returned), and she meets the townspeople of eclectic Last Chance. But when it becomes clear her grandfather isn’t getting better anytime soon, they extend their visit and Maizy spends her days in her family’s restaurant and listening to her grandparents’ stories of the past, learning all of the Golden Palace’s secrets and about her own family’s incredible legacy.

One warning going into this book: Don’t read on an empty stomach! There are so many delicious descriptions of food, Chinese and German in particular, that I found myself craving some of the same dishes that Maizy eats, but I fear none of my local options could hold a candle to the Golden Palace. But that’s just the beginning of the delightful descriptions that await. Yee does a great job of bringing the entire town of Last Chance to life, and populating it with interesting characters that feel believable and real. While this Midwestern town is filtered through Maizy’s eyes and feels a bit too cute at first (there’s a Ben Franklin with a soda counter, for heaven’s sake), Yee slowly pulls back the layers to reveal a community that may have good intentions and good people, but isn’t always as accepting or as progressive as they’d like to believe themselves — which honestly tracks with my experiences of small Midwestern towns. While there is little Maizy can do to challenge the status quo on her own, she learns to stand up for herself and her family, which is important.

Some of my favorite parts of the book were when Maizy’s grandfather would tell her stories about his grandfather, Lucky Chen, who first came to the U.S. from China and how he founded the Golden Palace. Hearing the history of this family was a great way for readers to learn about the complicated history the U.S. has with Chinese immigrants and their own Chinese American citizens, and there were things that I even learned from this book! Overall, this is an excellent book with a funny, warm contemporary voice and so many great teaching moments packed in, but in a way that feels informative and entertaining and not didactic. Definitely pick it up for yourself or the kiddo in your life!