This was fine except for Harry Potter references and some fat phobia. 

Some People Need Killing: A Memoir of Murder in My Country was informative, moving, and disturbing. Evangelista is a writer who uses this book to focus on the violence in her country of the Philippines, specifically by the government in its supposed war on drugs. 

This book read quickly to me and I enjoyed the audio narration. Evangelista explores language and written communication in a way that I found very interesting, and the way she intersperses this with the history of Duterte, a dictator style leader, and his reign of violence creates balance and an opportunity for the reader to take an emotional breath. 

The end of this book was exceptionally sad, but also somehow just a bit hopeful. I feel more informed and reminded of the importance of honest government. 

The Invocations is a fantasy novel that follows three young women and an unknown serial killer who is targeting women. I was totally sucked into House of Hollow by Sutherland a few years ago, loving its haunting atmosphere and blend of reality and magical realism. This book had a similar flavor, with more of a continuous plot and it was considerably longer. 

I went into this one relatively blind, and I don't think you have to go that route but I do think it was a good choice for me. So I'll give you a basic introduction to the three women who come together in this story. First we meet Emer, she lives on the edges of society blending in as a college student when she is in fact a curse writer. Then there is Jude, the youngest child in a very wealthy family from which she is semi-estranged. Jude has tried to use magic at great cost to her health. And then there is Zara, a teenager who is ignoring her high school responsibilities to research necromancy to bring her dead sister Savanna back to life. 

I saw a couple of the plot twists coming in this magical thriller/mystery, but that didn't detract from my enjoyment at all! I think Sutherland used just the right amount of foreshadowing and placed just enough clues. I had a great time with this book that is on the dark side of YA. I highly recommend this if you like feminist, dark, magical tales. 

Invisible Woman is a #MeToo era book focusing on an older female protagonist who has been keeping a dark secret for decades. Thrown out of the entertainment industry after barely starting, Joni Ackerman has remained adjacent to the industry through her famous husband. After raising a family for many years, they have just left California for Brooklyn and a scandal is hitting the entertainment industry. And of course, it's connected to the secret Joni has been keeping. 

This book moves quickly if predictably and I enjoyed the even pacing and the fresh and rare perspective of an older woman. If you liked Thursday Murder Club and enjoy feminist fiction, I think this is one to pick up! 

You Know What You Did by K.T. Nguyen is a debut mystery novel about Annie, a woman mired down by her identities as a mother, wife, and daughter. Annie has been managing her OCD until the book begins with her elderly mother's death. Her grief launches her into a quagmire of intrusive thoughts and self doubt. When an older patron who has hired her for many artistic projects disappears, Annie is at a loss and under suspicion. 

The synopsis of this book gave me high hopes, but what it delivered was uneven pacing and a first half that was very repetitive, slow, and hard to get through. However around the half way mark, the pacing picked up and I really enjoyed most of the back end of this story. Annie's OCD is based largely on the author's own experience and her character development was promising. I didn't feel the same about the development of her husband and daughter's characters. As for the ending, I thought it was really fun and unsettling until the final pages of the epilogue put on a too tidy bow. 

I will look forward to reading Nguyen's next novel and seeing how she improves and builds upon this start. 

This Terrible True Thing is a story set in 1991 about Danielle Silver, a rising senior at a private boarding school and youngest child of divorce. As Danielle is preparing to return to school, she is also grieving the death of their dear family friend Arthur. When she discovers Arthur had AIDS, Danielle is launched into learning more about the political blinders of her time and how she can contribute to the cause. 

Deep in her grief, Danielle asks her gay father to make a promise. He must tell her if he has HIV. You see where this train wreck is heading, don't you? I loved that this book got into the real meat of how awful the AIDS epidemic was, how hateful much of society was, and that silence truly does equal death. Laden doesn't shy away by making the story only about a gay uncle which is a frequent trope especially in YA and MG literature; she draws attention to the reality that many children lost parents because of the government's inaction. 

I loved the character development as Danielle made it through a terrible year. Her friend Marco is an absolute gem and her roommate Abby is a great counter and friend to Danielle's personality. This books ends as you expect it will, and does so with beauty, reverence, and grace. 

My only complaint is that the subtitle "a visual novel" doesn't really reflect what this delivered. I think you'd be fine to listen to this on audio. There are a handful of nice illustrations, and Danielle is an aspiring artist. However, it was not nearly as visual as I expected or wanted. 

The Family by Naomi Krupitsky is a multi generational story of two families that become connected by the Italian mafia. We begin in the early twentieth century with the families of Marco and Joey. They live next door to each other and have daughters very close in age, Sofia and Antonia. 

As Sofia and Antonia near school age, they begin to realize what their fathers are a part of and shortly thereafter tragedy strikes for one of them. Despite terrible loss, the girls remain close and their lives are constantly intertwined, even when they do not want this to be the case. As Sofia and Antonia grow up, the novel shifts to the families they create who also become stuck in "Family" life. 

I loved the subtle but rich character development from Krupitsky's sparse writing style. With so few words, she takes the reader into the heart of each character and creates a vivid atmosphere of organized crime and family drama. Krupitsky absolutely does not tell the reader how each character is feeling and simultaneously makes you feel so strongly, and she doesn't cast judgement on the choices her characters make. I loved the open look at decisions that are good and bad and decisions where hands were tied. I also think this style keeps the book moving instead of cheesy and over dramatic. 

I flew through this book while also trying to make it last, not wishing for it to end. And that ending! I'd read another book about this family and its future generations in a heartbeat. This debut novel was an absolute pleasure and I can't wait to see what Naomi Krupitsky writes next. 

The Berlin Letters is told from several points of view, immersing the reader in the Cold War era. In 1989, Luisa Voekler is an undercover CIA code breaker who investigates old codes from WWII. The story hinges on a mystery she discovers in letters left behind by her father, whom she has believed was dead. 

As Luisa discovers the letters are in fact written in code, we also hear from the perspective of her father and his awful experiences trying to be safe and pursue justice in a divided Berlin. As Luisa Voekler works through the mystery, the story builds to the defining event of the wall coming down. 

Ultimately, this bored the heck out of me. Luisa was annoying. The only chapters I enjoyed were her father's and by the last quarter, we weren't reading from him anymore. The mystery is as obvious as possible from the get go, and honestly from the synopsis. I had to force myself through the last two hours of this audiobook because despite good narration, the writing was predictable, cheesy, and read like a cliché movie. I hoped for a historical fiction novel that would bring a different and interesting perspective, and this wasn't it. Even the author's note about her research landed as unimpressive and uninspired. 

The Laughter by Sonora Jha is literary fiction that plays with the genre and storytelling in thought provoking ways. I picked this up on the suggestion of friends I trust, and I don't think I would have been drawn to it otherwise. Told from the point of view of Oliver Harding, a white 56 year old English professor, this is an extreme example of an unlikable narrator. In fact for the first sixty pages, I questioned if I could spend 300 pages with Professor Harding. 

Fortunately, I stuck with it because this book is brilliant. By keeping a single point of view, that of Oliver Harding, we gather what he wants to share about Ruhaba Khan, the Pakistani female professor that he fetishizes, and her nephew that has been sent to live with her from France. The boy has been sent by his parents to escape some unnamed problems back home. 

As Oliver tries to get closer to Ruhaba, simultaneously protests begin on their college campus as students demand more diverse representation on staff and in the curriculum. Everything builds to a very surprising crescendo and ends with just the kind of haunting ending that I love. 

If you can handle numerous references to the 2016 election and a very unlikeable narrator's inner monologue, I think this book has a lot to offer. 

2020: One City, Seven People, and the Year Everything Changed was a book I had high expectations for. I am often a fan of this style of narrative nonfiction that focuses on the stories and interviews of individuals to tell a greater story. In that way, this book met my expectations. 

The first half of 2020 focuses on in depth personal interviews that the author conducted with seven individuals during the height of the pandemic. Klinenberg showcased excellent skills as a writer and interviewer in this first section, doing such an excellent job that I felt sympathy even for folks who took much different stances than I did during the pandemic. From an elementary school principal in NYC to a conservative small business owner in Staten Island, these people showcase the diverse experiences that New Yorkers had during that very trying year. 

Unfortunately, the second half of this book falls apart in several ways. The timeline becomes convoluted, the information becomes highly repetitive, and it felt very circuitous. Also, in his chapter about the impact of the pandemic on young people, Klinenberg sets aside his balanced viewpoints from earlier in the book and casts obvious judgements on which of the youth he highlights have let the pandemic improve their lives and outlooks and on those who have "become directionless." It smacks of a boomer judging the way younger people choose to live. 

I think the book would have been much stronger with just the conclusion and epilogue after the first half of personal stories. If you liked Evicted by Matthew Desmond, I think you'll really like the front half of this book. Despite it's flaws, I'm glad I read it. It was a great reminder of what unites us after a year that sparked so much derision.