The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion (Vol. 1)

 

The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion (Vol. 1) by Beth Brower

Fiction

2019

Finished on August 27, 2026

Rating: 3/5 (Good)

Publisher's Blurb:

“I’ve arrived in London without incident. There are few triumphs in my recent life, but I count this as one. My existence of the last three years has been nothing but incident.”

The Year is 1883 and Emma M. Lion has returned to her London neighborhood of St. Crispian's. But Emma's plans for a charmed and studious life are sabotaged by her eccentric Cousin Archibald, her formidable Aunt Eugenia, and the slightly odd denizens of St. Crispian's. Emma M. Lion offers up her Unselected Journals, however self-incriminating they may be. Armed with wit and a sideways amusement, Emma documents the curious realities of her life at Lapis Lazuli House.

All my blogging friends have been raving about this series, so I purchased the first volume for my mom last Christmas. She loved it (no surprise there!) and went on to buy the next seven volumes in the collection. She's very impatient, as I'm sure many readers are, to read the ninth volume, which is due out before the end of the year. 

I had extremely high hopes for this epistolary work, but it wasn't until the final entries that I felt compelled to move on to the second volume. What should have taken me no more than a day or two to complete took well over a week! I checked in with a couple of friends who echoed my frustration with this book, but assured me that the series does get better. Much better. I hope so, as I have all the remaining volumes stacked and ready to go!

It wasn't until I finished the book that I discovered that the author also wrote The Queen's Gambit. We loved the miniseries and look forward to watching it a second time later this fall. 

The Winds of War

 

The Winds of War by Herman Wouk

The Henry Family #1

Fiction

1971

Finished on August 9, 2026

Rating: 3/5 (Good)

Peace, if it ever exists, will not be based on the fear of war, but on the love of peace. It will not be the abstaining from an act, but the coming of a state of mind. In this sense the most insignificant writer can serve peace, where the most powerful tribunals can do nothing. ~Herman Wouk

Publisher's Blurb:

Europe, 1939: the rumblings of war grow to a terrible roar. In America the Henry clan--Navy to the bone--finds itself drawn into the very center of the maelstrom: the father at the right hand of Roosevelt, his oldest son flying over the Pacific, his youngest falling in love in Europe. From the conference table to the battlefield, from the rise of the Reich to the horror of Pearl Harbor, this is America's great World War II novel, Pulitzer Prize-winner Herman Wouk's classic epic of monumental events--and human courage and passions.

I have no idea how long I've owned a copy of The Winds of War, but it's easily been sitting on my shelf for over a decade. Maybe two. I've come to enjoy reading about World War II and have always wanted to read Herman Wouk's classic novel. The length (1000+ pages in mass market!) was enough to keep me from picking it up, but last winter I decided to make it a year-long read in 2026. Well, it didn't take me a full year, but I did read it here and there between other books in my stacks. Fortunately, the storyline was straightforward in such a way that it didn't lose momentum with each pause I took over the course of eight months of reading. It's essentially a family saga with the backdrop of the war, culminating with the bombing of Pearl Harbor. The Henrys are a Navy family, and readers are given detailed accounts of that life. The book is not one of my favorites of the genre, and I never came to care about any of the main characters. As one might expect, the passages about Hitler felt all too familiar in these current times:

When Victor Henry first came into Hitler's new chancellery, he was incongruously reminded of Radio City Music Hall in New York. The opulent stretch of carpet, the long line of waiting people, the high ceiling, the great expanses of shiny marble, the inordinate length and height of the huge space, the gaudily uniformed men ushering the guests along, all added up to much the same theatrical, vulgar, strained effort to be grand; but this was the seat of a major government, not a movie house. It seemed peculiar.

and

Hitler from moment to moment looked restless, tired, or bored, or else he flashed into winning charm. He was seldom still. He shifted his feet, turned his head here and there, clasped his hands before him, folded them, gestured with them, spoke absently to most people and intensely to a few, and every so often did the little knee kick. Once Pug saw him eating small iced cakes from a plate, shoving them toward his mouth with snatching greedy fingers while he talked to a bemedalled visitor.

and

The speech was a lot of the same old stuff, with some remarkable whoppers, even for the Fuhrer, about who started the Polish war and about the sterling conduct of the Germans toward civilians. This tommyrot was certainly for internal consumption. His German listeners appeared to be swallowing it, though it's very hard to discern what Germans really think.

I've never watched the popular miniseries based on The Winds of War, which aired in 1983 starring Robert Mitchum, Ali McGraw, Polly Bergen, Jan-Michael Vincent, Victoria Tennant, Peter Graves, and John Houseman, but I'm tempted. I also plan to read War and Remembrance in 2027 for another year-long read. 

The Gulf of Lions

 

The Gulf of Lions by Caitlin Shetterly

Fiction

2026

Finished on August 1, 2026

Rating: 3/5 (Good)

Publisher's Blurb:

From the acclaimed author of Pete and Alice in Maine, comes a standalone and evocative sequel about a mother who, recovering from the trauma of breast cancer and a mastectomy, takes a once-in-a-lifetime trip across France with her two daughters, determined to fully live. There, she finds herself newly awakened by beauty and desire but when the trip takes a turn for the worst, she must decide between a life of pleasure or the deep tethering of family.

Reconciling with her husband after a betrayal and recovering from a yearlong battle with breast cancer, Alice longs for an escape from the trials of everyday life. When the opportunity arises for a once-in-a-lifetime camping trip across France, she packs up her daughters, hoping it’s the new start she so desperately needs.

Alice, teenage Sophie, and young Iris begin their odyssey in the French Alps, entering a foreign world they did not know existed: beautiful people, luscious food, and sensual temptations. It’s a freeing experience—exploring the countryside, sleeping beneath the stars, reveling in the sights and scents of nature. For the first time since her diagnosis, Alice starts to feel alive, less afraid of dying, and less angry about her husband's affair.

But as the family continues south, traveling through Provence, where they camp on the Gulf of Lions, an area of the Mediterranean known for wild, roaring winds and purple fields of lavender, they start to unravel the yarn that binds them together. By the time they head to the charred Pyrenees, and then back across France to stay in a castle that sits on the confluence of two rivers, Alice worries that the trip might have been a disastrous and reckless mistake.

A beautiful meditation on womanhood, personhood, exploration, survival and sexual awakenings, The Gulf of Lions is a breathtaking and emotionally resonant story that plumbs the eternal question: What, in the end, will keep a family from falling apart?

I read Caitlin Shetterly's debut novel, Pete and Alice in Maine, earlier this year. I loved it, and couldn't wait to get my hands on The Gulf of Lions when I heard it was due out in May. I bought my copy and added it to my summer reading list, eager to see what was in store for Alice and her daughters as they made their way across France. 

I'm sad to say that this was a disappointing read. I didn't like any of the characters, especially Alice's two bratty daughters (who hadn't matured at all since the previous novel). I didn't care for Alice's poor choices while in France, either. The only redeeming quality of the book was the lush descriptions of setting and the food. Otherwise, I might not have finished reading the novel. 

Kate & Frida

 

Kate & Frida by Kim Fay

Fiction

2025

Finished on May 7, 2026

Rating: 3/5 (Good)

Publisher's Blurb:

A companion to the instant national bestseller Love & Saffron, this bright and comforting novel follows the surprising friendship between two young women in 1990s Seattle and Paris, illuminating the power of books to change our lives.

Sometimes a book can change your life...

Twenty-something Frida Rodriguez, daughter of Love & Saffron’s own Joan Bergstrom, comes to Paris in 1991, relishing the city’s butter-soaked cuisine and seeking her future as a war correspondent. But when she writes to a bookshop in Seattle, she receives more than just the book she requests. A friendship begins that will redefine the person she thought she wanted to become.

Seattle bookseller Kate Fair is transformed by Frida’s free spirit, spurred to kiss her handsome coworker, to believe in herself as a writer, and to find beauty even in loss. Through the most tumultuous years of their young lives—personally and globally—Kate and Frida’s friendship sustains and nourishes them as they show each other how to overcome self-doubt and the necessity of embracing joy even through our darkest hours.

A buoyant, mouth-watering oasis of a novel, Kate & Frida is a love letter to bookshops and booksellers, to the way stories shape how we perceive ourselves, to the passion we bring to life in our twenties, and to the last precious years before the internet changed everything. 

I loved Kim Fay's previous novel, Love & Saffron, so I was particularly excited to read Kate & Frida, which is also an epistolary work. I wrote about my favorite epistolary books that I've read over the years in my review of The Correspondent, hoping to add Fay's latest release to that list. Sadly, Kate & Frida missed the mark. Maybe this novel was a bit too light, coming so soon after I finished The Lacuna, which is a marvelous work of literary fiction by Barbara Kingsolver.

As I read the opening letter to Kate (living in Seattle) from Frida (living in Paris), I had an overwhelming sense of deja vu. Frida requests a book (Martha Gellhorn's The Face of War) from The Puget Sound Book Company, and Kate sends the book along with a chatty reply. And so begins a three-year-long exchange of letters, very much like those in 84, Charing Cross Road, one of my all-time favorite epistolaries. And yet I struggled to stay engaged with Fay's novel, growing impatient to be finished and moving on to something with more depth. Having grown up in Seattle, and working at the Elliott Bay Book Company, the author is very familiar with the location, as well as life as a bookseller. I enjoyed those aspects of the story. I also learned about the Bosnian War, about which I knew very little. But despite the setting and book-related topics, the novel felt trite. The pop culture references were initially fun to see, but grew tiresome as the story progressed. I felt like the author had a laundry list of memories she wanted to include, but didn't know when enough was enough. Traveler's checks, evening rates for long-distance phone calls, Walkmans, L'eggs pantyhose, Disneyland E tickets, phone books, pay phones, mixtapes, and Smurfs brought back memories of the early 1990s, although at times I thought maybe they were more from the 80s than the 90s. In any case, I really didn't need to have a constant reminder of the time period. 

Recommend with reservations.

Before I Forget

 

Before I Forget by Tory Henwood Hoen

Fiction

2025

Finished on 3/22/2026

Rating: 3/5 (Good)

Publisher's Blurb:

A funny, heartfelt, late coming-of-age story that examines the role of memory in holding us back—and in moving us forward

Call it inertia. Call it a quarter-life crisis. Whatever you call it, Cricket Campbell is stuck. Despite working at a zeitgeist-y wellness company, the twenty-six-year-old feels anything but well. Still adrift after a tragedy that upended her world a decade ago, she has entered early adulthood under the weight of a new burden: her father’s Alzheimer’s diagnosis.

When Cricket’s older sister Nina announces it is time to move Arthur from his beloved Adirondack lake house into a memory-care facility, Cricket has a better idea. In returning home to become her father’s caretaker, she hopes to repair their strained relationship and shake herself out of her perma-funk. But even deeply familiar places can hold surprises.

As Cricket settles back into the family house at Catwood Pond―a place she once loved, but hasn’t visited since she was a teenager―she discovers that her father possesses a rare gift: as he loses his grasp of the past, he is increasingly able to predict the future. Before long, Arthur cements his reputation as an unlikely oracle, but for Cricket, believing in her father’s prophecies might also mean facing the most painful parts of her history. As she begins to remember who she once was, she uncovers a vital truth: the path forward often starts by going back.

I spotted a copy of Before I Forget on the new release shelf at my library and decided to give it a try. Other than the Alzheimer's premise, I went into the novel cold. Had I read the blurb, I might have thought twice about borrowing the book.

Before I Forget is no Still Alice. Hoen's novel deals with young love and loss, finding oneself, caregiving of an aging parent, and a new romance. Alzheimer's is a backdrop to Cricket's story, rather than being placed front and center. The specifics of her duties as her father's caregiver are simplistic: fixing a glass of lemonade; walking down to the lake with her father; driving him to restaurants or grocery shopping. The only indication of his dementia is his inability to recognize his daughters, and toward the end, climbing into a stranger's car. 

Before I Forget lacks the depth and nuance of Lisa Genova's brilliant novel about early-onset Alzheimer's. Genova's book informs her readers, evoking compassion and understanding of what it means to be afflicted with the disease, as well as how it affects family and loved ones. Hoen's novel, while dealing with the loss of a high school sweetheart, and a twenty-something-year-old floundering to find herself, is a lighter take on the family demands of Alzheimer's. Arthur's disease provides a backdrop to Cricket's return to the family home in the Adirondacks, which gives her a sense of purpose. 

Hoen's characterization and setting save the book from feeling trite and overtly simplistic. I had no trouble envisioning the cabin set nestled in the trees, overlooking the lake, the loons calling to one another at dusk. However, not one to believe in divination, I felt the subplot of Arthur's new found ability to predict the future, casting him in the role of a local oracle, more than ridiculous.

When I began reading this novel, I was hoping for a more meaningful, literary work, but despite its flaws, I was entertained enough to finish the book.

Heartwood

 

Heartwood by Amity Gaige

Fiction

2025

Narrated by Justine Lupe, Alma Cuervo, Rebecca Lowman, Cary Hite, Helen Laser, Ali Andre Ali

Finished on 3/15/2026

Rating: 3/5 (Good)

Publisher's Blurb:

Heartwood takes you on a journey as a search and rescue team race against time when an experienced hiker mysteriously disappears on the Appalachian Trail in Maine.

In the heart of the Maine woods, an experienced Appalachian Trail hiker goes missing. She is forty-two-year-old Valerie Gillis, who has vanished 200 miles from her final destination. Alone in the wilderness, Valerie pours her thoughts into fractured, poetic letters to her mother as she battles the elements and struggles to keep hoping.

At the heart of the investigation is Beverly, the determined Maine State Game Warden tasked with finding Valerie, who leads the search on the ground. Meanwhile, Lena, a seventy-six-year-old birdwatcher in a Connecticut retirement community, becomes an unexpected armchair detective. Roving between these compelling narratives, a puzzle emerges, intensifying the frantic search, as Valerie’s disappearance may not be accidental.

Meh. The writing is quite good with some lovely passages, but I wish I had read Heartwood rather than going with the audio. There are several narrators, some better than others. One had the habit of dropping the volume of her voice toward the end of a sentence, which should have been caught and corrected in production. The plot isn't very suspenseful, the pacing uneven, and I didn't care much for any of the characters. The ending felt rushed with a few loose ends. All in all, a mediocre read. 

Edited: I've decided to bump up my rating up to a 3/5.

Looking Back - Enduring Love

Looking Back... In an effort to transfer my book journal entries over to this blog, I'm going to attempt to post (in chronological order) an entry every Friday. I may or may not add extra commentary to what I jotted down in these journals.

Enduring Love by Ian McEwan

Fiction

1997

Finished on 5/?/2002

Rating: 3/5 (Good)

Publisher's Blurb:

From the Booker Prize winner and bestselling author of Atonement —a brilliant and compassionate novel of love, faith, and suspense, and of how life can change in an instant.

On a windy spring day in the Chilterns, the calm, organized life of science writer Joe Rose is shattered when he witnesses a tragic accident: a hot-air balloon with a boy trapped in its basket is being tossed by the wind, and in an attempt to save the child, a man is killed. A stranger named Jed Parry joins Rose in helping to bring the balloon to safety. But unknown to Rose, something passes between Parry and himself on that day--something that gives birth to obsession in Parry so powerful that it will test the limits of Rose's beloved rationalism, threaten the love of his wife, Clarissa, and drive him to the brink of murder and madness.

My Original Thoughts (2002):

Bizarre book! Dark and suspenseful. The first two chapters were very intense. 

My Current Thoughts:

I must have decided to read this after reading Atonement, which I loved. I have since read more by McEwan, including a re-read of Atonement, but can safely say that his books aren't for me.

Theo of Golden

 

Theo of Golden by Allen Levi

Fiction

2023

Narrated by David Morse

Finished on 3/3/2026

Rating: 3/5 (Good)

Publisher's Blurb:

One spring morning, a stranger arrives in the small southern city of Golden. No one knows where he has come from…or why…

His name is Theo. And he asks a lot more questions than he answers.

Theo visits the local coffeehouse, where ninety-two pencil portraits hang on the walls, portraits of the people of Golden done by a local artist. He begins purchasing them, one at a time, and putting them back in the hands of their “rightful owners.” With each exchange, a story is told, a friendship born, and a life altered.

A story of giving and receiving, of seeing and being seen, Theo of Golden is a beautifully crafted novel about the power of creative generosity, the importance of wonder to a purposeful life, and the invisible threads of kindness that bind us to one another.

I was really excited about reading this debut novel after seeing so many glowing reviews, so I purchased a copy, something I rarely do unless I'm certain it's one I'm going to love. I read several chapters, but wasn't impressed. I decided to try the audiobook with hopes that it wouldn't be as slow as the print edition. I increased the listening speed, and eventually got interested in the story. I wish I could say that I loved Allen Levi's book, but it just wasn't for me. I liked the novel well enough to finish, but it's not one that I can recommend. Theo of Golden is an uplifting and inspirational story (with an underlying Christian message), which will appeal to fans of Mitch Albom and Nicholas Sparks. For me, the pacing was too slow, and overall the book was a touch too saccharine and sentimental.

The Black Wolf

 

The Black Wolf by Louise Penny

Chief Inspector Armand Gamache #20

Mystery

2025

Finished on February 7, 2026

Rating: 3/5 (Good)

Publisher's Blurb:

Several weeks ago, Chief Inspector Armand Gamache of the Sûreté du Québec and his team uncovered and stopped a domestic terrorist attack in Montréal, arresting the person behind it. A man they called the Black Wolf.

But their relief is short-lived. In a sickening turn of events, Gamache has realized that that plot, as horrific as it was, was just the beginning. Perhaps even a deliberate misdirection. One he fell into. Something deeper and darker, more damaging, is planned. Did he, in fact, arrest the Black Wolf, or are they still out there? Armand is appalled to think his mistake has allowed their conspiracy to grow, to gather supporters. To spread lies, manufacture enemies, and feed hatred and division.

Still recovering from wounds received in stopping the first attack, Armand is confined to the village of Three Pines, leading a covert investigation from there. He must be careful not to let the Black Wolf know he has recognized his mistake. In a quiet church basement, he and his senior agents Beauvoir and Lacoste pore over what little evidence they have. Two notebooks. A few mysterious numbers on a tattered map of Québec. And a phrase repeated by the person they had called the Grey Wolf. A warning ...

In a dry and parched land, where there is no water.

Gamache and his small team of supporters realize that for the Black Wolf to have gotten this far, they must have powerful allies, in law enforcement, in industry, in organized crime, in the halls of government.

From the apparent peace of his little village, Gamache finds himself playing a lethal game of cat and mouse with an invisible foe who is gathering forces and preparing to strike.

After I finished reading The Grey Wolf, which I did not love, I decided to go ahead anyway and start The Black Wolf since Penny left us with quite a cliffhanger. I'm glad I didn't have to wait a full year to read this latest installment in her Inspector Gamache series, as it was confusing enough reading it so soon after The Grey Wolf. Partly my fault, I should have created a list of characters to keep track of, but honestly, these two books are so convoluted, and not just as far as the denouements are concerned! The scenes jump abruptly from one group of characters to another, with no discernable transition. And, just when you think the villain is revealed, there's another twist. And another. And another! In previous posts, I've mentioned how tiresome Rosa (the duck) has become, but I also feel that Penny's use of f-bombs has run its course. There are other words to relay feelings of anger and frustration. Why not instead say, "We're screwed!" I don't mind f-bombs, but the use is overdone.

These two books are more political than Louise Penny's earlier works. She wrote this mystery a year before the U.S. President threatened to make Canada the 51st state. While she wrote passages, such as this one, in reference to her fictitious Canadian government officials, they are obviously a not-so-subtle commentary on Trump:

"I know what you've missed. I know that there're no boundaries when it comes to greed. To those addicted to power, there are no borders. There's always more to grab. There are new territories, new worlds, to conquer. Look at the Caesars. Alexander. Look at Genghis Khan. Napoleon. Loot at Hitler and Putin. Wolves know no boundaries, respect no borders."

and

"How do you choose what to buy? Past experience, yes, but originally? It's advertising, and what's that? Propaganda, often spread through word of mouth. Someone you know tells you it's good. This is no different. How did hundreds of millions of people believe Iraq was behind the 9/11 attacks when it patently was not? How did millions believe a perfectly legitimate election was stolen and almost cause a coup? The power of persuasion. And few places are more persuasive, more influential, than the internet. Social media. Eventually a critical mass is hit. A tipping point. Shit catches fire."

and

But Armand suspected every country ever invaded had felt the same way. Every group ever targeted, ever rounded up, refused to believe their neighbors could do it.

Every people who found themselves under the thumb of a tyrant must wonder where it began, and how they didn't see it coming. And what moment they missed, when it could have been stopped.

A World of Curiosities, published in 2022, earned a full five stars from me—just two years before The Grey Wolf. Will my disappointment with The Grey Wolf and The Black Wolf bring my loyalty to Louise Penny’s work to an end? No. Though these recent books fell short for me, I remain hopeful that her next release will recapture what I love about her writing.

Evensong

 

Evensong by Stewart O'Nan

Fiction

2025

Finished on October 27, 2025

Rating: 3/5 (Good)

Publisher's Blurb:

An intimate, moving novel that follows The Humpty Dumpty Club, a group of women of a certain age who band together to help one another and their circle of friends in Pittsburgh as they face the challenges of their golden years

The Humpty Dumpty Club is distraught when their powerhouse leader, Joan Hargrove, takes a bad fall down her stairs, knocking her out of commission. Now, as well as running errands and shepherding those less able to their doctors’ appointments, they have to pick up the slack.

Between navigating their own relationships and aging bodies and attending choir practice, these invisible yet indomitable women help where they can. They bake cookies, they care for pets, they pick up prescriptions, they sit vigil by the sick, and most of all, they show up for the people they’ve pledged to help. In the face of death, divorce, and the myriad directions our lives can take, the Humpty Dumpty club represents the power of community and chosen family.

Weaving together the perspectives of the four cardinal members as they tend to those in need, Stewart O’Nan revisits beloved characters from his past work -- most notably Emily Maxwell -- to fashion a rich and moving novel that celebrates our capacity for patience and care. Vivid, warm, and often wryly funny, Evensong reminds us that life is made up of moments both climactic and quotidian, and we weather those moments with the people we choose to keep close.

I rarely get any ARCs anymore since I no longer work in a bookstore. But every now and then I win a book from Goodreads, so I enter their giveaways whenever I see one for a book I'm eager to read. I was thrilled to win an ARC of Stewart O'Nan's new book, Evensong, setting aside another book that I had just begun in order to read O'Nan's before its publication date. I've read several of his books, some of which I loved, but others that missed the mark. When I saw that Evensong returned to Emily Maxwell's story, I was even more excited to settle in and read what I was certain would be another 5-star book. Sadly, it did not live up to my admittedly high expectations. 

I enjoyed certain aspects of Evensong, especially those told from Emily's point of view, as well as those depicting the characters' love of their pets, but much of the book was slow and dull. Some may find the backstories (or lack thereof) of a few of the characters confusing, so this may be a book that needs to be read after reading O'Nan's Maxwell trilogy (Wish You Were Here, Emily, Alone and Henry, Himself). I have always intended to read these a second time, but I now wonder if they'll be as good as I remember. 

My reviews for the books I've read of O'Nan's:

Emily, Alone (4.75/5)

Henry, Himself (5/5)

Wish You Were Here (3/5)

Ocean State (2/5)

Last Night at the Lobster (2/5)

I received a complimentary copy from Atlantic Monthly Press. All thoughts and opinions are my own.

Anything Is Possible

 

Anything Is Possible by Elizabeth Strout

Amgash #2

Fiction

2017

Finished on June 22, 2025

Rating: 3/5 (Good)

Publisher's Blurb:

Recalling Olive Kitteridge in its richness, structure, and complexity, Anything Is Possible explores the whole range of human emotion through the intimate dramas of people struggling to understand themselves and others.

Here are two sisters: One trades self-respect for a wealthy husband while the other finds in the pages of a book a kindred spirit who changes her life. The janitor at the local school has his faith tested in an encounter with an isolated man he has come to help; a grown daughter longs for mother love even as she comes to accept her mother's happiness in a foreign country; and the adult Lucy Barton (the heroine of My Name Is Lucy Barton, the author's celebrated New York Times bestseller) returns to visit her siblings after seventeen years of absence.

This is the second collection of short stories I've read this month, and I'm not a big fan of the genre, so I'm not surprised that I didn't love Anything Is Possible. The stories are more interconnected than those of Table for Two (Amor Towles), and some of the characters are familiar from my reading of My Name Is Lucy Barton, but the book is not one of my favorites by Elizabeth Strout. I struggled to keep track of the characters' relationships with one another as they overlap from chapter to chapter. Plus, the central theme to Strout's stories is shame and regret, and many involve mothers who leave their families. Thus, the overall tone is bleak and gloomy. The writing, however, is marvelous, so I was never tempted to stop reading. Anything Is Possible is best read right after My Name Is Lucy Barton, perhaps with a pen & pad in hand.

Wellness

 

Wellness by Nathan Hill

Fiction

Narrated by Ari Fliakos

2023

Finished on May 20, 2025

Rating: 3/5 (OK)

Publisher's Blurb:

From the New York Times bestselling author of The Nix, a witty and poignant new novel about marriage, middle age, tech-obsessed health culture and the bonds that keep people together.

When Jack and Elizabeth meet as college students in the '90s, the two quickly join forces and hold on tight, each eager to claim a place in Chicago's thriving underground art scene with an appreciative kindred spirit. Fast forward twenty years to married life, and alongside the challenges of parenting, they encounter cults disguised as mindfulness support groups, polyamorous would-be suitors, Facebook wars and something called Love Potion Number Nine. For the first time, Jack and Elizabeth struggle to recognize one another, and the no-longer-youthful dreamers are forced to face their demons, from unfulfilled career ambitions to painful childhood memories of their own dysfunctional families. In the process, Jack and Elizabeth must undertake separate, personal excavations, or risk losing the best thing in their lives: each other.

Moving from the gritty '90s Chicago art scene to a suburbia of detox diets and home renovation hysteria, Wellness mines the absurdities of modern technology and modern love to reveal profound, startling truths about intimacy and connection. In the follow-up to Hill's electric debut, Wellness reimagines the love story with a healthy dose of insight, irony, and heart.

I seem to be in a rut of disappointing reads. It took me over three weeks to finish listening to Wellness, which is just shy of 19 hours in length. I loved the opening chapters, enthralled by Ari Fliakos' superb narration of Nathan Hill's gorgeous prose. But the momentum began to fade somewhere around the halfway mark. The segments about Jack's father and his ignorance of Facebook's algorithms pulled me back into the story, but it wasn't long before Jack and Elizabeth's navel-gazing had my mind wandering. But I can stick with a mediocre book if the audio narrator is one that I enjoy. Had I not been listening to the audio, I would have tossed the 600+ novel across the room. Having said that, I have a print edition of The Nix, Hill's debut novel, which I was planning to read later this summer. Now I wonder if I should bother.

I received a complimentary copy from Libro.fm. All thoughts and opinions are my own.

Instructions for a Heatwave

 

Instructions for a Heatwave by Maggie O'Farrell

Fiction

2013

Finished on May 17, 2025

Rating: 3/5 (OK)

Publisher's Blurb:

London, 1976. In the thick of a record-breaking heatwave, Gretta Riordan's newly retired husband has cleaned out his bank account and vanished. Now, for the first time in years, Gretta calls her children home: Michael Francis, a history teacher whose marriage is failing; Monica, whose blighted past has driven a wedge between her and her younger sister; and Aoife, the youngest, whose new life in Manhattan is elaborately arranged to conceal a devastating secret.

In a story that stretches from New York's Upper West Side to a village on the coast of Ireland, Maggie O'Farrell reveals the fault lines over which we build our lives. Instructions for a Heatwave weaves an unforgettable narrative of a family falling apart and coming together with hard-won, life-changing truths about who they really are.

Meh. I struggled to finish this sixth novel of Maggie O'Farrell's, which took me over a week to complete. I felt no sympathy toward any of the characters in this dysfunctional family tale, and grew impatient to move on and read something more engaging. Unlike her previous works, the structure of Instructions for a Heatwave is straightforward with a single narrative, presented in a linear timeline, over the course of four days. Each family member harbors a dark secret from their past, which they eventually reveal to some but not all of their relatives. The pacing is slow and languid, and while there is a bit of mystery involving the disappearance of Gretta's husband, the story lacked the necessary tension to hold my attention. Not one I'll read again.

There Was an Old Woman

 

There Was an Old Woman by Andrea Carlisle

Nonfiction

2023

Finished on May 9, 2025

Rating: 3/5 (Good)

Publisher's Blurb:

Andrea Carlisle isn’t struggling with her new identity as the Old Woman in the ways society seems to think she should. In fact, she is finding her later years to be an extraordinary and interesting time. In trying to understand the discrepancy, she interrogates the sources of negativity in literature, art, and received wisdom that often lead women to dread this transformative time of life. Given the cultural pervasiveness of ill will toward older women, it is small wonder that growing older is not seen as a natural, even desirable, process. Although some elements of aging are hard to reckon with, there is much to make use of and delight in, along with mysteries, surprises, and revelations.

In these personal essays, Carlisle looks for new ways to bring herself more fully to this time of life, such as daily walks with other women and connecting to the natural world that surrounds her houseboat on an Oregon river at the foot of a forest. She writes about experiences shared with many, if not most, older women: wondering at her body’s transformation, discovering new talents, caregiving, facing loss, tuning in to life patterns and drawing strength through understanding them, letting go (or not) of pieces of the past, and facing other changes large and small.

Those curious about, approaching, or living in old age will find wisdom and insight in her unique perspective. In a voice that rings with clarity, humor, and humility, Carlisle shows us that old age is not another country where we can expect to find the Old Woman grimly waiting, but is instead an expansion of the borders in the country we’re most familiar with: ourselves.

At 63, I'm not quite sure I fit the demographic for this book, but nonetheless I read it for my upcoming book group discussion. Carlisle's insights on aging aren't terribly profound, and at times her essays are repetitive, and her lists of examples too lengthy. I have enjoyed many novels about aging women, but for me, this nonfiction work missed its mark. However, she includes a suggested reading list of books with an emphasis on older characters, and I wound up adding several to my TBR list.

Books about aging women that I have read and enjoyed:

Sipsworth by Simon Van Booy (4/5)

Emily, Alone by Stewart O'Nan (4.75/5)

Olive Kitteridge by Elizabeth Strout (4.5/5)

Olive, Again by Elizabeth Strout (5/5)

Winter Solstice by Rosamunde Pilcher (5/5)

Night of Miracles by Elizabeth Berg (5/5)

We Spread by Iain Reid (4.5/5)

The Swimmers by Julie Otsuka (4/5)

The Elegance of the Hedgehog by Muriel Barbery (4.5.5)

Fellowship Point by Alice Elliot Dark (5/5)

Our Souls at Night by Kent Haruf (4.5/5)

Still Life with Breadcrumbs by Anna Quindlen (4/5)

Read, but didn't love:

Lillian Boxfish Takes a Walk by Kathleen Rooney (3.5/5)

As We Are Now by May Sarton (3/5)

Two Old Women by Velma Wallis (3/5)

Books from Andrea Carlisle's suggested reading list in which I'm interested:

The Dark Flood Rises by Margaret Drabble

Smile Please by Jean Rhys (essay "My Day")

The Door by Magda Szabo

The Woman Next Door by Yewande Omotoso

Quartet in Autumn by Barbara Pym

Mrs. Palfrey at the Claremont by Elizabeth Taylor

Jumping the Queue by Mary Wesley

The Enchanted April by Elizabeth von Armin

The Stolen Child

 

The Stolen Child by Ann Hood

Fiction

2024

Finished on February 10, 2025

Rating: 3/5 (Good)

Publisher's Blurb:

For decades, Nick Burns has been haunted by a decision he made as a young soldier in World War I, when a French artist he’d befriended thrust both her paintings and her baby into his hands—and disappeared. In 1974, with only months left to live, Nick enlists Jenny, a college dropout desperate for adventure, to help him unravel the mystery. The journey leads them from Paris galleries and provincial towns to a surprising place: the Museum of Tears, the life’s work of a lonely Italian craftsman. Determined to find the baby and the artist, hopeless romantic Jenny and curmudgeonly Nick must reckon with regret, betrayal, and the lives they’ve left behind.

With characteristic warmth and verve, Ann Hood captures a world of possibility and romance through the eyes of a young woman learning to claim her place in it. The Stolen Child is an engaging, timeless novel of secrets, love lost and found, and the nature of forgiveness.

Having read several books (both fiction and nonfiction) by Ann Hood, I was happy to see a copy of her most recent publication on the new release shelf at my public library. The cover art is lovely, the historical references to World War I intriguing, and the setting (both in France and Italy) enticing, so I didn't hesitate to bring it home with me. I wish I could say that this is a great novel, but it lacked the depth and literary quality that I was hoping for. I struggled with the three nonlinear timelines (which at times were abrupt, pulling me out of the story), and grew impatient with the drawn-out search by Jenny and Nick. The rich details of both France and Italy kept me from giving up on the novel, but I'm guilty of looking ahead to see how many pages remained before I could start something new. 

I loved Hood's Morningstar: Growing Up with Books (memoir), as well as Kitchen Yarns: Notes on Life, Love, and Food (another memoir). The Book That Matters Most and The Knitting Circle are two of her novels that I also enjoyed a lot. The Stolen Child isn't one I need to own or will read again, but for those who are looking for a lighter read during these stressful times, this book may be just the ticket.

Watch Us Shine

 

Watch Us Shine by Marisa de los Santos

Love Walked In #4

Fiction

2023

Finished on October 1, 2024

Rating: 3/5 (Good)

Publisher's Blurb:

“Bring me the Northern Lights.”

Cornelia Brown is reeling from a terrifying act of violence when she gets word that her mother has been badly injured in an accident. Cornelia returns to Virginia, to the house she grew up in, and in the weeks that follow, she watches her mother Ellie struggle to recover, fluctuating between her usual crisp, can-do clarity and periods of delirium during which she seems haunted by a devastating loss from her past. In grief-stricken tones, Ellie begs Cornelia to bring her the Northern Lights, and despite her confusion at this mysterious plea, Cornelia vows to do so: “She was my mother and she wanted the Northern Lights; I was her daughter and would have given her anything, anything.”

With the help of her prickly sister, Ollie, Cornelia embarks on a mission to piece together the lost years of their mother’s life: people, places, and events spanning Ellie’s late teens through her mid-twenties. Cornelia and Ollie’s quest takes them to unexpected places and into the worlds of strangers whose lives Ellie touched and irrevocably changed. As the sisters uncover truths about their mother’s life—some beautiful, some ugly, some tragic—Cornelia herself begins to heal, to forgive herself, and to find her way back home.

Alternating between two timelines—Cornelia’s story in the present, and that of the young Eleanor Campbell in the 1960s—Watch Us Shine explores the complicated bonds between sisters, the impossible demands of motherhood, and the power of human love to save us again and again.

I've been a fan of Marisa de los Santos since I read Belong to Me in 2008. I gave up on one of her novels (Falling Together), but her Love Walked In series earned high ratings from me, and I was excited to start reading this latest installment. And yet, Watch Us Shine wasn't nearly as good as I'd hoped for. I grew impatient for the big reveal about the violent act Cornelia experienced, and felt that it was unnecessary to tease it out so slowly. The characters were likeable enough, and the alternating timelines were interesting and easy to keep up with, but it's been a long time since I read the earlier books in this series. I eventually gave up trying to remember Cornelia's friends and extended family members from those novels. It would probably be best to read these in order without such large gaps of time in-between.

While not a book that I'll keep to read a second time (nor one that I would thrust into someone's hands, imploring them to read it), Watch Us Shine was entertaining enough to finish. Good, but not remarkable.

Bear

 

Bear by Julia Phillips

Fiction

2024

Finished on August 3, 2024

Rating: 3/5 (OK)

Publisher's Blurb:

A mesmerizing novel of two sisters on a Pacific Northwest island whose lives are upended by an unexpected visitor — a tale of family, obsession, and a mysterious creature in the woods, by the celebrated, bestselling author of Disappearing Earth.

They were sisters and they would last past the end of time.

Sam and her sister, Elena, dream of another life. On the island off the coast of Washington where they were born and raised, they and their mother struggle to survive. Sam works long days on the ferry that delivers wealthy mainlanders to their vacation homes while Elena bartends at the local golf club, but even together they can’t earn enough to get by, stirring their frustration about the limits that shape their existence.

Then one night on the boat, Sam spots a bear swimming the dark waters of the channel. Where is it going? What does it want? When the bear turns up by their home, Sam, terrified, is more convinced than ever that it’s time to leave the island. But Elena responds differently to the massive beast. Enchanted by its presence, she throws into doubt the plan to escape and puts their long-held dream in danger.

A story about the bonds of sisterhood and the mysteries of the animals that live among us — and within us — Bear is a propulsive, mythical, rich novel from one of the most acclaimed young writers in America.

When is a bear just a bear? 

The bear, she said. The bear. It lit her days. Just hoping--knowing that she might see it--knowing it was there to be seen.

The bear had come and brought delight. The bear was deep-furred majesty. Without it, Elena didn't know what they'd do. The bear was their one good thing: a specter, a spirit, an extraordinary beast. A visitor from someplace enchanted. A vision of the mysterious world. 

What had the bear done to harm them? Nothing. What threat did is pose? None at all. So why bring in someone to chase it away? There was no reason. The bear was here, briefly and beautifully, teaching them what it was to love living, helping them to make it through. 

As I read the final pages of Julia Phillips' new novel Bear, I wondered if I had missed something critical in the story. Was it Phillips' intention to create a novel of magical realism or was the bear a metaphor for society's attack on the poor and lower class citizens, struggling for survival, living hand-to-mouth?

I listened to a novel almost a decade ago called The Bear (by Claire Cameron), which was both mesmerizing and terrifying. At the center of that tale are two young children and one large bear, the former of whom tugged at my heartstrings, bringing me to tears as I listened to their story, their palpable fear invading my dreams. 

Julia Phillips' strange novel is no comparison. I was drawn to the book after reading some glowing reviews, and the Pacific Northwest setting was an easy sell. I've written about my love of the San Juan Islands here, and I was easily transported to that idyllic location, picturing Samantha behind the concession stand on one of the many ferries that traverse the waters between Anacortes, San Juan, Lopez, and Orcas.

For her last twenty minutes on the boat that day, Sam rode in the open air, letting fine mist wash across her face. Seaplanes hummed overhead.

 She drove home from the harbor with the windows down. The breeze was warm, powdery with pollen, soft with the promise of early summer. Here was another day she'd almost entirely missed, penned through the daylight hours in the fluorescent-lined box on the ferry's top deck, but she'd made it at last into the sunshine. Driving lazily, playing pop on the radio. Trees brushed by on either side. Farm animals watched her pass. When she and Elena moved off-island, they would enjoy, she imagined, mentioning to people the beautiful place in which they'd grown up. The air smelled like cedar and sugar. It was lovely. With every curve in the road, her body relaxed deeper into the driver's seat. She'd gotten the final piece of the day, the sliver of goodness left.

And yet, despite the picturesque setting, the story left me shaking my head, wondering why other readers were so impressed. The characters are thinly drawn, Sam's unhealthy dependency on her older sister grew tiresome (I struggled to believe Sam was 28 when she comes across as an immature, antisocial teenager), and the manner in which Elena interacts with the grizzly is beyond belief. 

As dissatisfied as I was of the plot, I admired the author's beautiful prose, particularly her descriptions of island life.

When the sisters were young, very young, they loved living on San Juan. Summers, the girls would go over to Lime Kiln and pass entire days posted up on the rocky bluffs watching for whales. Spotting them was like catching shooting stars. You couldn't focus on any one spot--you had to let your gaze go wide. Elena was especially good at it. She would jostle Sam's elbow and say, "Humpback." The tourists next to them, outfitted with binoculars, gasped, leaning close to try to learn her secrets. Elena pointed out the pods. Humpbacks, gray whales, minkes, porpoises rolling and leaping in the surf. Gorgeous orcas, with their dorsal fins sharp as blades.

The girls hiked along the coastal cliffs as otters floated below. They went north, to English Camp, where a Coast Salish longhouse once stood, and play pretend among the thick damp ferns. Park rangers waved in their direction. Elena asked where they came from, what they did here, whether they liked it, and they told her the names of their hometowns and the list of their duties and how, yes, they treasured this place. Sam and Elena chased each other down the park's trails. They hooted and squealed. Their world seemed enchanted, a paradise. 

My first inclination was to give Bear a 2/5 (fair) rating, but as I've spent more time thinking about the novel and Phillips' prose, I've decided to nudge it up a notch. In spite of a near DNF, I did become engrossed as the story progressed, eager to learn the outcome. Would I recommend the book? Probably not. But I do highly recommend Claire Cameron's novel, which is based on the tragic story that occurred in 1991 "on Bates Island on Lake Opeongo in Algonquin Park, nearly three thousand square miles of wilderness situated two hundred miles northeast of Toronto." The audio of that book is outstanding!