FRIDAY BLACK is a short story collection infused with a sense of dread, full of stories set in worlds a few degrees away from our current reality.

Overall, I felt like most of these stories were strong, and quite haunting. The most effective stories are the extremely near future speculative fiction ones, which take the circumstances of our world to the logical extreme. And this is exactly why they’re so haunting - you know they aren’t real, but you don’t have to work very hard to imagine a world where they could be.

I do want to talk briefly about the story LARK STREET. I’m glad I’d read @postgradreads’ review in advance, or else I may have thrown this book across the room. It is FULL of antichoice imagery and tactics, and in a way that seems sort of unquestioned to me. I can see how this story fits the “logical extreme” idea I mentioned above, but to me it reads as dangerous, given that clinic protestors will literally hand out plastic fetuses while shouting “Mommy, you killed me!” It felt out of place to me. I’m open to hearing other interpretations though - hit me up if you think I’m seeing it wrong.

There are a couple of forgettable stories in this book, but also a few that I think will stick with me, notably ZIMMER LAND and THROUGH THE FLASH (I need an extended version of that story pronto).

Antonio Márez is a young boy in New Mexico about to enter school when the town’s curandera, Ultima, moves in with his family in her old age. Ultima watches over Tony as he navigates upheaval, death, and the pull of family as he begins to grow up.

BLESS ME, ULTIMA has been on my TBR shelf for literal years. I kept putting it off because I generally dislike magical realism, and I completely regret doing that. I am here to concur with the millions of other reviews calling this book a masterpiece.

This book is all about being pulled in two directions - llano versus farm, God versus carp, home versus the world. The narration point of view of adult Tony recalling his childhood made these choices seem all the more painful since it was plain that he did not always understand all the forces at play.

It’s my understanding that Chicano culture and literature embraces magical realism as a common and expected facet of life, and that’s how it was presented here, and I think that’s why this book worked better for me than other magical realism stories I’ve read. It was just woven into the story - it could not have been told without it.

To me the most intriguing part of the book was how the mysticism coexisted with the Christianity for some characters while others were ready to leave Ultima and her teachings behind. Tony is asked repeatedly, both implicitly and explicitly, to choose a path, including this one.

Washington Black is a child slave in Barbados when his master’s abolitionist brother chooses Wash to be his assistant, taking him away from the plantation and on a continent-spanning journey in search of love, loyalty, and freedom.

I could not put this book down. It reads as if a dear friend is unspooling the great story of their life to you, and only you. It is both meandering and urgent and the same time. I hardly took any notes in my reading journal because I was so caught up in the story.

I did find a few of the plot developments to be a bit of a stretch - running into exactly this person or that person is miraculously still alive. But the story was so engaging that I didn’t care. I needed to know what would happen next. I needed Wash to find closure. (Did he? Arguable.)

The running themes in this book - when is a Black man truly free? Can a white person ever be a real ally with no motive of personal advancement? - are still, I think, relevant today and part of what made WASHINGTON BLACK so powerful to me.

The story of three generations of Palestinian immigrant women, A WOMAN IS NO MAN shows us the lives of Fareeda, Isra, and Deya as they face arranged marriages, bearing children, and finding their roles in a life with seemingly limited choices.

I read this book in two days. I had to know what happened, and immediately. So much of this book is about cycles repeating and tradition and the weight of history, and yet each woman was distinctly her own person even when others were trying to force them to fit their ideas of a traditional Arab woman.

So much blame is placed on women, both in this book and in real life, for the choices they did or did not make. How many times have you heard a domestic violence victim get asked “why didn’t you just leave him?” And here, each woman faces an array of reasons. Money. Reputation. Children. Education. Language. They are doing the best they can with the options they see, and each took a different path. I think this book does a wonderful job with showing the specific ways each each of them felt locked into their life and does not make any one woman out to be the villain of the story.

Another running theme is the idea that books and knowledge can save you. Or, at the very least, bring more options to the table. I know so many of us can identify with feeling like books are not just an escape, but a way to feel like yourself.

In 1950s Paris, American expatriate David finds himself caught up in a relationship with Giovanni, a newcomer to the local gay scene. Everything goes awry when his fiancée returns from traveling, and David struggles to know who he is and what he wants.

GIOVANNI’S ROOM is one of the most beautiful and most painful books I’ve ever read. The writing is gorgeous: evocative without being overwrought. The plot is engaging and gripping. But oh, the layers of emotions David experiences, and that you experience with him.

So, so much of this book is rooted in self hate. David hates himself for wanting Giovanni. He hates flamboyant men in bars and on the streets. Both David and Giovanni hate their older friends’ furtive way of finding boys. Possibly every man calls another man “disgusting” at some point. And yet...they cannot fully break away from each other.

I cannot imagine living such a deeply closeted life - yes, even though they all knew what they wanted and what they were doing, every one of them was trying to pretend it wasn’t true. I felt so bad for them all.

I have seen some talk about how strange it was for Baldwin to make his main character a white gay man. However, I see the logic in it. Adding the layer of race to the already complex web of feelings around homophobia would have made this a different story entirely. In order to tell David’s story this way, he had to be white.

I wonder how I would have received this book had I read it in college before I came to terms with my own sexuality. Would it have helped me along? Would I have felt less of a visceral connection to the characters? I don’t know, but I’m glad I have discovered it now and I know I will reread it many times throughout my life.

Orphaned Jane escapes her vicious adopted family to become the governess to young Adele at Thornfield Hall, where the master of the house is the mysterious Mr. Rochester. Jane falls for him, hard, but secrets and past lives work to keep them apart.

I went into this book expecting an Austen-style story of sedate social politics and was quite surprised at what it actually was. Secrets! Intrigue! Plot twists worthy of a soap opera! A hardheaded heroine who knows what she wants and puts her own needs first. In short, I loved it.

JANE EYRE is a grand love story, but it’s also more than that. As a child, Jane rebels against the adults trying to keep her in line (beat her down, really). She struggles with feeling worthy of attention as a young adult but through the trials she faces, she learns to take her due and to never settle for less, whether “less” means poor treatment from relatives or a loveless marriage.

While she does get her man in the end (as an aside, Mr. Rochester, please take SEVERAL seats on your concept of marriage), it’s not her singular goal. She wants to be a full person living a life of her choosing, which is exactly what she achieves.

Set in a wealthy DC suburb, WHITE ELEPHANT follows several families in the town of Willard Park as they clash over new construction, rebellious teenagers, and what does or does not constitute the American Dream.

This book is like if the the families from Big Little Lies got dropped into Stars Hollow. It’s sharp without going overboard on the satire of trying to keep up with the Joneses. And it really digs into the idea that you never know what it’s like inside someone else’s marriage (or sometimes even your own).

I really liked that each couple in this story were struggling in different ways, each keeping their own secrets. Willard Park felt like it was populated with real people, and each family could easily have whole individual novels focusing on them. I also want to see this story from cafe owner Lucy’s perspective. She was in it for the drama and I loved it!

As for the ending (don’t worry, no spoilers), it felt to me like it wrapped up very tidily, but somehow there were also some loose ends I wanted more information about. A sequel, maybe?

Heather B. Armstrong, best known as Dooce, has written about her struggle with depression for years. In the midst of an 18-month bout, she agrees to participate in a trial treatment that involves flatlining her brain ten times.

I’ve been reading Armstrong’s writing for over a decade now, and this book still blew me away. No one else is able to so sharply illustrate what it’s like inside your head when you’re depressed. I could not highlight passages fast enough - I kept reading bits out loud to my partner, in awe of how it seemed like Armstrong had transcribed my own thoughts and feelings.

She lays out all the ways your own brain is inescapable when you’re dealing with depression and anxiety. How could you possibly shower when the water hurts your skin? How could you possibly fold one more piece of laundry? And maybe worst of all, how could you possibly burden anyone with helping you? And, not to get spoilery, but she also captures what it’s like to come out the other side and how in a matter of days you can wonder how you possibly could have thought you were down such a dark hole. Lest you think this book is a total downer, Armstrong’s usual lightning quick sense of humor is still present - it’s cliche to say I laughed and then I cried, but it’s true.

If you’ve ever wanted to understand a loved one who is dealing with depression, read this book. It’s hard to believe a book about dying ten times can give you hope, but this is the case for THE VALEDICTORIAN OF BEING DEAD.

Ten people with unusual powers find themselves drawn together by forces they don’t understand - forces that threaten them and the world at large. They must figure out how to work together, and quickly, to prevent disaster.

With ten main characters, TEN: PART ONE could easily be unwieldy and confusing. But the plot races forward and each character is unique in a way that never gets out of hand. I found myself genuinely excited each time a new character’s name appeared at the start of a chapter. Who are we meeting? How do they fit into the puzzle?

The writing style is highly descriptive and in the present tense, which often reads like the scene descriptions in a screenplay, and this story would make a killer SENSE 8 or UMBRELLA ACADEMY style TV adaptation.

I really liked the idea that the source of their powers is also what threatens to take them down. It so perfectly mirrors their statuses as societal outcasts - LGBTQ people, people of color, trauma victims are all represented here, and they all provide each other support and the simple act of truly seeing each other.