A Book A Week

With the Texas heat reaching record highs this week, I've fully embraced summer reading mode. Although I read various genres year-round, this is the season when I crave quick, twisty novels that I can devour in a few sittings. This week, I've turned to Janelle Brown's 2020 hit, Pretty Things, to satisfy that craving. The novel delivers with alternating perspectives, captivating drama, and a pace that keeps you turning pages late into the night.

Nina finds herself disillusioned with her life. Despite doing everything right—attending college, earning a liberal arts degree, and avoiding her con artist mother's mistakes—she's nowhere near where she thought she’d be. Now, to make ends meet, Nina and her Irish boyfriend Lachlan have resorted to a life of crime, stealing from wealthy LA kids. It’s not the dream life she imagined, but it’s getting her by. When her mother falls ill, Nina is driven to take a huge risk. She decides to put everything on the line to pull off her most intricate and dangerous scam yet, all to help her ailing mom.

Vanessa is grappling with her own form of disillusionment. As a wealthy heiress, she once aimed to make a meaningful impact and leave a lasting legacy. Instead, she has become ensnared in the superficial world of Instagram, traveling the globe, receiving free clothes and products, and posing for pictures in exotic locales. Beneath this enviable facade, however, lies a life marked by tragedy. Seeking solace, Vanessa retreats to her family’s sprawling estate, Stonehaven. There, she will confront the dark secrets of her past, secrets that are destined to intertwine with Nina’s life.

Pretty Things marks the third time I’ve read a book by Janelle Brown, and it reaffirms why I’m so captivated by her writing. She excels at creating characters who blur the line between empathy and abhorrence, making them complex and engaging throughout their journeys. By alternating perspectives between characters, Brown provides readers with deep insights into their motivations while gradually unveiling their true intentions. This technique infuses the story with a profound sense of uncertainty, which drives the book’s pacing.

While the novel initially takes time to establish its characters and main plot, by the halfway point, I was completely hooked. The twists and turns along the way are both shocking and seamlessly integrated into the storyline. Overall, Pretty Things delivers another compelling summer read from an author who continues to impress with her unique storytelling.

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

(2024, 43)

With the holiday weekend behind us, summer reading has officially arrived. I enjoyed kicking off my summer reading with John Grisham's latest book, Camino Ghosts. I was first introduced to Grisham's gripping legal thrillers in high school, and his work played a significant role in my journey to becoming a lifelong reader. Knowing how much his books mean to me, his publisher graciously gave me a copy of his new release, just in time for Memorial Day weekend. This is the third installment in his series that began with Camino Island, and it's the best one yet.

Our return to Camino Island, a quaint vacation town off the Florida coast, brings us back to many familiar faces. Bruce Cable, the charismatic bookstore owner, confidant to the island's many resident authors, and occasional dealer in rare and illicit books, is delighted to welcome his protege Mercer Mann back to the island. Fresh off the success of her last novel, a literary sensation, Mercer is now struggling to find inspiration for her next work. Ever the helpful mentor, Bruce reveals that he has the perfect subject for Mercer's new book—the intriguing story of 80-year-old Lovely Jackson.

Years ago, Lovely self-published an account of her life and the unsettling history of the nearby Dark Isle. Her ancestors were brought to the area on ships traveling from Africa. Enslaved and with little hope for the future, a heavy storm forever changed their fate. Their ship capsized, and Lovely's family members washed ashore on Dark Isle. Though the island was inhospitable, it offered the enslaved people something previously unimaginable—freedom. Together, they created a sanctuary, colonizing the island and turning it into a safe haven to be passed down through generations. Lovely is the last of her lineage, claiming the now-deserted island as her own. She has returned over the years to tend to the graves of her ancestors and maintains that the island is cursed, deterring any unwelcome visitors from setting foot on its shores.

Mercer is intrigued by Lovely's story. Although she hasn't written nonfiction before, this could be the tale that reignites her passion for writing. As she begins the preliminary work of transforming Lovely's story into a full-fledged book, a new complication arises. Hurricane Leo, which wreaked havoc on Camino Island and Dark Isle a few years ago, paved the way for a controversial development plan. A large company has laid claim to the abandoned Dark Isle, intending to build residential properties, shopping centers, and a massive casino.

Determined to protect her ancestral homelands from corporate greed, Lovely takes the company to court. The battle won't be easy. There are no paper records of the island ever being inhabited, but Lovely is resolute in her fight. With the help of Mercer, Bruce, and some of Camino Island's best legal minds, she'll stop at nothing to defend her land, history, and story.

Of the three books in the Camino Island series, Camino Ghosts feels the most quintessentially John Grisham. Returning to his roots, Grisham creates the kind of compelling courtroom drama that only he can masterfully tell. His best works have always combined an intriguing plot, complex yet relatable characters, and a fast-paced writing style, and that's precisely what makes this latest novel such a joy to read. In Lovely Jackson, Grisham crafts a character whose personal history underscores the injustices of American history. This sets the stage for a classic David versus Goliath battle, pitting legal conventions against true justice.

I was completely captivated by this story, breezing through its pages over the course of the long holiday weekend. Grisham's ability to weave a tale that is both engaging and thought-provoking shines through, making it impossible to put down. The novel built to an emotionally satisfying climax, leaving me with a few tears streaming down my cheeks. It's a testament to Grisham's enduring ability to entertain and move his readers with stories that are both timely and timeless. Camino Ghosts is easily the best book in the series so far and is the perfect way to kick off the summer reading season.

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

(2024, 42)

Take a moment to consider the individuals who have left the most significant imprint on your life. Who comes to mind? Perhaps it's friends, family members, teachers, or mentors—those who truly understand you. Are they still present in your life today? Reflecting on those who have influenced me, I feel a twinge of sadness, realizing that many of them are no longer a part of my life. Whether due to distance, circumstances, or the passage of time, there inevitably comes a point when we must come to terms with the loss of those significant individuals who are no longer with us. In her latest book, Bits and Pieces, actor and comedian Whoopi Goldberg reminisces about her inner circle, particularly her late mother and brother—two individuals who knew her best. Following their passing, Goldberg reflects on their profound impact on her life and the void left behind in their absence.

For many around the world, Whoopi Goldberg is a familiar name. The EGOT winner has entertained us for decades, from her acclaimed Broadway performances and memorable film and TV roles to her recent tenure on The View. However, only two people truly knew Goldberg on a deeply personal level. To them, she wasn't Whoopi Goldberg but simply Caryn, a daughter and sister who made up the third member of a small family living in the projects of New York.

Despite being impoverished, Goldberg never noticed the lack of money and resources. Her mother, Emma, was determined not just to raise her children to survive but to thrive. Through a series of deeply personal stories and recollections, Goldberg shares her childhood experiences, her relationship with her brother and mother, and the pivotal moments that shaped her into the woman she is today. The audiobook, narrated by Goldberg herself, enhances the intimacy of these reflections. Her conversational delivery makes you feel like you're listening to an old friend or family member reminiscing about the good old days. Her mother's resilience stands out, as Emma never allowed their circumstances to limit her children's potential, instilling in Goldberg the belief that she could achieve greatness.

Beyond her immediate family, Goldberg credits mentors like Mike Nichols and Steven Spielberg for instilling in her the same confidence in her career that her family provided in other aspects of her life. She acknowledges that she hasn't always been perfect—after all, we all "step in poo" from time to time—but she takes pride in learning and growing from her mistakes and is committed to continuing that growth. Goldberg lost her mother in 2010 and her brother five years later. She writes about the profound sense of loss that still fills her, a grief that she has learned to live with but that never fully goes away. She finds solace in knowing she is still here for a reason, that her presence in her work and with her family remains fulfilling.

Ultimately, Bits and Pieces is a love story about the power of family, friends, and living life authentically. It combines humor with heartfelt reflections on the candid moments of a woman who still has much to offer the world. The book serves as a poignant reminder of the enduring impact that loved ones have on our lives and the importance of cherishing those connections.

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

(2024, 41)

In 2017, I had the privilege of embarking on a backpacking trip across Europe. I was overwhelmed by the sheer scope of history that unfolded in the places I visited. The history of the Holocaust, in particular, struck a deep chord within me. Walking through the ruins of Auschwitz and witnessing the vast expanse of Birkenau, I struggled to comprehend the true magnitude of lives lost during this horrific period. Surrounded by barbed fences and countless shed-like structures that once housed over a million prisoners, the enormity of the tragedy was almost too overwhelming to grasp.

It was only through reading personal accounts, such as Elie Wiesel's Night and Anne Frank's diary, that I began to connect with this tragedy on a human level. These personal experiences allowed me to truly understand the inhumanity of the Holocaust. Since that journey, I have mostly avoided fictional works set within this historical context. How can one craft a compelling story about something so horrific? However, when I stumbled upon Mitch Albom's latest novel, The Little Liar, I decided to take a chance on this work of fiction.

How do we know what is really true? In this story, we can be certain that everything we read is true because our narrator is Truth itself. Talk about credibility. The book follows Nico Krispis, an eleven-year-old Greek boy who has never told a lie in his life. When the Nazis invade his home, Nico hides while his family is taken by soldiers. A German officer eventually finds Nico and offers him a deal: his family's safety in exchange for Nico's help. The officer asks Nico to go to the train station daily and reassure his fellow Jews that the trains they are being forced to board are taking them to new homes with jobs and safety.

Unaware of the cruel deception, Nico faithfully carries out his task. It isn't until he sees his own family being loaded into a crowded boxcar that he realizes the horrific truth—they are all being sent to their doom at Auschwitz. Distraught by his unwitting role in this great lie, Nico is forever changed, never able to tell the truth again. In the intervening years, we follow Nico, his brother, their schoolmate, and the Nazi officer as they each grapple with the consequences of their actions, words, and the trauma they have endured.

The Little Liar begins as a moving parable about the value of truth, the consequences of deception, and the redemptive power of forgiveness. By having Truth as the narrator, Mitch Albom gives the story an authority it might otherwise lack. I was drawn into the story, captivated by the familiar historical context and the inevitable heartbreak. The first part of the book, which focuses on the Holocaust, is the most compelling. Albom then fast-forwards through history, showing how each character deals with the aftermath of their trauma. While the story concludes in a satisfying way, I couldn't help but wish for more depth from the characters.

My experience walking through historical sites and reading primary sources about the Holocaust highlighted the complexity of the individuals involved. In Albom's novel, however, the characters often feel one-dimensional. The good guys are entirely good, and the bad guys are unrelentingly evil. While this works from a narrative standpoint, it detracts from deeper contemplation and reflection. Take the Nazi officer, for example. Initially, he appears conflicted as he rescues Nico from certain death, but rather than struggling with his conscience, he quickly devolves into a caricature of evil. This lack of nuanced character development reduces the emotional impact of the story.

While there are glimmers of genuine heart and some clever plot developments, the main emotion I left The Little Liar with was a sense of coolness. It is a serviceable tale but one that leaves little lasting impact. My advice: dive into some of the non-fiction writing on this subject instead.

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

(2024, 40)

Occasionally, a book emerges that feels perfectly attuned to the current cultural landscape. R.F. Kuang's Yellowface is one such example. Since its release last year, it has garnered both critical acclaim and commercial success, quickly establishing itself as a must-read that encapsulates the spirit of the times. While it had been on my radar since its publication, I only recently had the opportunity to delve into its pages. In just a few days, I found myself completely absorbed by its narrative, understanding immediately why it resonated so deeply with readers.

June Hayward has always lived in the shadow of Athena Liu, her college classmate and literary rival. While Athena soared to success with one acclaimed novel after another, June's own writing career languished in obscurity. Their friendship, if it could be called that, was tinged with June's bitter envy of Athena's achievements.

One fateful evening at Athena's apartment in D.C., tragedy strikes when Athena suddenly chokes and dies. In shock and disbelief, June finds herself alone with Athena's latest manuscript—a groundbreaking work highlighting the forgotten contributions of Chinese laborers in World War I. Without a second thought, June decides to seize the opportunity fate has presented her. She takes the manuscript and a few other papers, imagining a future where she submits it to her publisher under her own name. After all, Athena no longer needs it, and June sees it as her chance to finally claim the success she believes she deserves. What could possibly go wrong?

Ironically, the central premise of Yellowface felt reminiscent of Jean Hanff Korelitz's The Plot, a book I had previously read. However, as I delved into R.F. Kuang's narrative, I quickly realized that she was using this familiar storyline to explore much deeper themes. Yellowface serves as a scathing commentary on tokenism in publishing, shining a spotlight on the industry's tendency to prioritize diversity for the sake of appearance rather than genuine inclusivity.

As June's deceit unfolds, she finds herself buoyed by an industry eager to blur her cultural identity for profit. Kuang skillfully interrogates the concept of ownership in storytelling, questioning who has the right to tell certain narratives and whose voices are amplified or silenced by the publishing world and social media. It's a thought-provoking examination of power dynamics and the consequences of chasing fame at any cost.

The novel is told from June's morally dubious perspective. She's not a traditionally likable character, and readers are keenly aware of the wrongness of her choices. Yet, there's an undeniable magnetism to her story that kept me engaged. While Yellowface may have echoes of familiar narratives, Kuang infuses it with profound insights that elevate it beyond mere familiarity. The result is a compelling and thought-provoking read that lingers in the mind long after the final page is turned.

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

(2024, 39)

 "I’ll just say that we would not be who we are today without the calamities of our yesterdays."

The news of Salman Rushdie's brutal stabbing at a Chautauqua Institution literary event in August 2022 was both shocking and, in a sense, expected. Given the tumultuous history surrounding Rushdie's provocative 1988 novel, The Satanic Verses, and the subsequent fatwa issued against him by Iran’s Ayatollah Khomeini, it seemed almost inevitable that such an attack would occur. Rushdie had spent years living under constant police surveillance, largely withdrawing from public life until relatively recently, when the threat against him appeared to have diminished.

The vicious assault in 2022 served as a stark reminder that sentiments against Rushdie and his written words remained as violent as ever. Despite the mental and physical toll of the attack, Rushdie's response was characteristically defiant. Ironically, the event where the attack took place was a speaking engagement on the importance of safeguarding writers—a cruel twist of fate that underscored the ongoing threat against him. Rushdie confronted this violent attempt to silence him by doing what he does best: writing about it.

In Knife: Meditations After an Attempted Murder, Rushdie offers a candid reflection on the events leading up to the attack, his arduous path to recovery, and his perspective on the future. He recounts the 27 seconds of frenzied violence that forever altered his life, leaving him with catastrophic physical injuries and deep psychological scars. Buoyed by the support of his family and loved ones, Rushdie's resilience and unwavering spirit shine through. 

Knife transcends the narrative of mere survival; it delves into the complex emotions and philosophical reflections that arose from Rushdie's brush with death. Despite his staunch atheism, Rushdie grapples with the inexplicable miracle of his survival. It questions the very nature of existence and mortality. His imagined dialogue with his would-be assassin, whom he refers to as "A," offers a poignant exploration of human nature and the motivations behind such senseless acts of violence.

Ultimately, Knife is a testament to Rushdie's resilience and intellectual depth, offering readers a profound meditation on life, death, and the enduring power of the human spirit. Through wit, humor, and candid introspection, Rushdie navigates the complexities of his experience with grace and insight, crafting a narrative that is as thought-provoking as it is compelling.

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

(2024, 38)

I've always had a penchant for horror. There's an undeniable allure to the spine-tingling excitement of a good scare, especially when experienced within the safe confines of the pages of a fictional book. Throughout the years, I've delved into numerous titles that claim to be among the most terrifying reads out there. Yet, more often than not, these tales fail to live up to my lofty expectations. Perhaps that's why it's taken me so long to finally pick up Ania Ahlborn's Brother. This book has garnered a prominent place on countless lists of top horror novels, sparking curiosity and anticipation. Could it truly live up to the hype?

Nestled deep within the dense woods of Appalachia resides the Morrow family. To outsiders, their secluded lifestyle may appear idyllic, shielded from the outside world by the thick foliage. Yet, this isolation serves a darker purpose. You see, the Morrows are anything but ordinary. They are twisted individuals, more akin to characters from the most horrifying slasher films than members of civil society. Picture Leatherface of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre settling down to raise a family, and you'll grasp the essence of their depravity. The true extent of their atrocities remains shrouded in secrecy, known only to themselves, and they have no intention of exposing their dark deeds to the light of day.

Nineteen-year-old Michael Morrow feels a growing divide between himself and his family. Despite his upbringing amidst the chilling echoes of terror, Michael yearns for a life untouched by his family's malevolence. Encountering Alice, a local girl from a nearby town, deepens his longing for normality. Drawn to Alice's innocence and the possibility of a different path, Michael dares to envision a future beyond the shadows cast by his family's sinister legacy. As Michael grapples with his desires for a conventional life, he confronts the harsh reality that his family's monstrous nature may forever deny him the happiness he seeks. In a world where darkness reigns supreme, the notion of redemption feels like little more than a fleeting dream.

Reading Brother feels like peering into forbidden territory, offering an intimate glimpse into the minds of monsters typically relegated to B-movie horror fare. Ania Ahlborn crafts a narrative that latches onto your psyche, leaving you wary of the shadows as you turn each page. While the narrative brims with gruesome acts, it's Ahlborn's portrayal of Michael that truly chills to the bone. His quest for normalcy shines through, a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness. Micahel's resilience in the face of horror is both haunting and captivating. This complex character study elevates Brother beyond mere shock value, leaving readers pondering its depths long after the final chapter. For those brave enough to venture into its pages, Brother is a horror experience that lingers, demanding contemplation and reflection.

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

(2024, 37)

How do you typically find your next read? I've developed a range of techniques to discover the next book that will capture my interest. Whether it's browsing bookstore shelves, listening to book review podcasts, or relying on trusted recommendations from fellow readers, each method has led me to some of my favorite reads. Recently, I've added TikTok to my repertoire. It took longer than expected for book-related content to appear on my "For You" page amidst the flood of puppy videos and cooking tutorials. But finally, it's there. One of my favorite creators on the platform offers an insider's look into book cover design, showcasing how he brings publishers' visions to life. His captivating process, particularly evident in a video where he designs the cover for Mailan Doquang's debut thriller Blood Rubies, inspired me to pick up the book.

Rune Sarasin has always understood the risks of her chosen lifestyle as a thief, but nothing could prepare her for the whirlwind of trouble that ensues in just seven days. It all begins with a daring heist of rubies from the luxurious confines of a Bangkok hotel room owned by the affluent smuggler Charles Lemaire. With the help of her boyfriend Kit, Rune narrowly evades Lemaire's relentless pursuit. However, their triumph is short-lived when they receive distressing news: Kit's sister, Madee, has vanished without a trace. Tracking Madee's cell phone leads them to the perilous Khlong Toei slum, where Rune's own mishap compounds their troubles – she inadvertently loses the stolen rubies while searching for Madee.

Charles Lemaire has set his sights on recovering his prized rubies, and he won't hesitate to resort to violence to achieve his goal. He captures Kit, holding him hostage until Rune returns his stolen jewels. If she fails, Kit will be killed. Now, Rune is thrust into a race against time, torn between reclaiming the lost rubies and rescuing Kit from Lemaire's clutches. Yet, amidst the chaos, Rune cannot ignore the pressing need to uncover the truth behind Madee's disappearance. Delving deeper into the shadows of the Khlong Toei slum, Rune soon discovers a sinister underworld of crime, where the stakes are far higher than a mere collection of stolen jewels or the fate of one missing girl.

I judged Blood Rubies by its cover, and I'm happy to say that the story within was just as captivating as its visually striking exterior. Mailan Doquang immerses readers in a world rife with crime, deception, and high-stakes action, crafting a narrative that unfolds with relentless momentum. This thrilling, globe-spanning tale expertly balances the allure of a daring heist with a protagonist whose personal stakes add depth and resonance to the narrative. Despite some moments of exaggerated action as the plot unfolded, I found myself thoroughly engrossed in the story, enjoying every twist and turn it had to offer. Blood Rubies is a delightful, pulse-pounding heist adventure that is sure to satisfy any fan of the thriller genre.

For more information, visit Amazon and Goodreads. 

(2024, 36)

Téa Obreht has been a fixture in the literary landscape for as long as I can remember. I recall when I first began blogging about books, her debut novel, The Tiger's Wife, was on everyone's reading list. Like many instances since, I eagerly purchased the book, caught up in the excitement, only to let it languish unread on my shelf. There it remained, untouched, a silent reminder of my tendency to be swayed by the latest literary trends. While perusing the new arrivals at my local library, I recently stumbled upon Obreht's latest offering, The Morningside. Once again, I was drawn to the allure of a shiny new title, conveniently overlooking the neglected books waiting for me at home. This time, I made a conscious decision to follow through. Over the course of several days, I immersed myself in the pages of The Morningside, finally experiencing Obreht's writing firsthand. 

In The Morningside, the eponymous building stands as a symbol of faded grandeur, a once opulent high-rise now fallen into disrepair. Set in the not-too-distant future, the story unfolds in a world ravaged by the effects of climate change, where a Manhattan-like city has succumbed to flooding and a dwindling population. In response to these challenges, the government has devised a repopulation program, recruiting refugees with promises of a secure future within the city's confines. Despite these assurances, the anticipated influx of residents and laborers has yet to materialize, leaving the National Bureau of Posterity to advocate for patience and perseverance in the face of uncertainty. The echoes of past glory still linger, fueling hope for a resurgence of prosperity on the horizon.

In this building, we encounter Silvia, an eleven-year-old newcomer who resides with her mother. Encouraged by her mother to assimilate into their new surroundings, Silvia is instructed to converse only in the local language, concealing their past from prying eyes. While Silvia yearns for excitement and adventure, her mother's aspirations are more modest. She seeks only a life of quiet solitude for themselves and her fellow expatriates.

Silvia's longing for something beyond the ordinary is kindled by the enchanting tales spun by her aunt Ena, the superintendent of The Morningside. Ena regales Silvia with fantastical stories, including one about a mysterious artist residing on the building's 33rd floor, accompanied by three unusually large dogs. “Isn’t it obvious? They’re not dogs,” Ena says. “They’re men during the day and dogs at night.” Through these captivating tales, Silvia is transported to a realm of boundless imagination that starkly contrasts her mother's more pragmatic aspirations for her future. As she'll soon discover, the fancies of imagination can have dire consequences in the real world.

There's a wealth of themes to delve into within The Morningside, and Téa Obreht makes a valiant effort to integrate these elements into a cohesive narrative. Through the innocent perspective of Silvia, the child protagonist, readers are transported to a world where perception clashes with reality. The novel confronts the undeniable impacts of climate change, immigration, and warfare, yet the inhabitants of this fictional world remain fixated on the past rather than addressing the present challenges. Silvia's inquisitive nature serves as a driving force, leading her to explore the lives of her fellow residents within The Morningside. As she unravels their stories, the novel touches upon many complex themes.

Despite its ambition to tackle nuanced topics, the novel struggles to maintain a clear narrative focus as it progresses. Instead, it meanders from one exploration to another, leaving little time for readers to deeply engage with the underlying subjects. When the novel finally confronts the harsh realities beneath its fantastical facade toward the end of the book, it is delivered as a shocking twist. Instead of allowing readers the space to ponder the weighty implications of the significant revelation, Obreht appears to employ it primarily for its shock value, diminishing the opportunity for genuine emotional resonance. Ultimately, The Morningside presents readers with many themes to unpack, but its erratic pacing and lack of narrative direction detract from its potential impact, rendering it more of a mystery than a satisfying revelation.

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

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