I caught a few snippets of Oprah talking to Amy Griffin, the author of her memoir The Tell, and was intrigued. As a woman roughly the same age, there was so much I could relate to and understand about her story. Certainly not the severity of trauma that she experienced, but she made that understandable, too.

This would be a perfect pairing for Oprah‘s excellent and fascinating book with Dr. Bruce Perry: What Happened to You?  It explains a lot of the science behind what happens to our bodies and brains when we have experienced severe trauma. I think Amy is so brave for telling this story and could help a number of people feel not so alone, and seek help – even if it’s through unconventional methods.

Thank you Random House and Netgalley for the complimentary digital copy of The Road to Tender Hearts - Annie Hartnett is three for three on my scorecard for excellent novels, and they just keep getting better! There is some complicated family dynamics going on, but I had no trouble keeping straight the connections between the these singular characters and, as per usual, Hartnett writes child personas from such an authentic place. I lost my father when I was just eight years old, so I really felt for these children who lost their parents, and appreciate the way they were gracefully depicted with all of their magical thinking, failings and foibles.

As with her other novels, there is a sprinkling of mystical whimsy that just adds something special and makes her books so unique. I highly recommend picking up Rabbit Cake, Unlikely Animals, and now The Road to Tender Hearts. All of these stories are told with such humor, tenderness, and light that will melt your heart.

The Road to Dalton is the first in a series of books that have been suggested as read alikes for Elizabeth Strout fans, and I can see why. Not only are they also set in northern Maine, they have the same focus on intimate and detailed stories of seemingly ordinary life that are extraordinary.

Unlike Strout’s stories, there does not seem to be one particular character whom the narrative orbits around, and yet I felt so connected to each and every one on such a short amount of pages. Fair warning, it is on the melancholic side with many emotionally fraught stories centered around depression, suicide, and other mental health struggles. I am absolutely planning on reading the second installment, and the third that comes out this summer.

Great Big Beautiful Life was unfortunately a huge miss for me. I will read every single Emily Henry novel, no question! But this undertaking seemed so incongruent and lost my attention quickly. The protracted history of the ‘reclusive Hollywood star’ was poorly executed: the family tree was unnecessarily complicated, nor do I think it was necessary to go back as far as the great-great grandparents - if it WAS, at least get in first person narrative so I can understand those characters rather than read a few page summary of their lives. It detracted greatly from the forward momentum of the present day story, which was not engaging either. I did not understand the main character’s mother and their fraught relationship. It seemed like such a repetitive sticking point, with no real concrete explanation for the mother’s behavior even once they hashed things out about the death of her father. I also thought the competition between the two writers seemed like an unrealistic and watered down version of Book Lovers. 

The setting and atmosphere, though? Excellent! All very vivid - like I was on vacation in coastal Georgia drinking ice lattes in the mornings and singing Margaritaville in the evenings. On to the next Emily!

Oftentimes when I read a book just because it’s holiday themed, I end up being annoyed that I got distracted again from reading the books I really want to read in order to be festive. But, A Home for the Holidays was a lovely treat. A quick read with a sweet romance. More importantly, it’s a story about a fraught mother-daughter relationship that hit close to my heart, has lots of sumptuous prose about food, and excellent sense of place in my hometown Chicago. It was warm and comforting: perfect for a holiday read.

This was my second Ariel Lawhon book and I appreciate her approach to historical fiction with a deep dive into an extraordinary, yet not well known, historical figure. Early 18th century America is not the setting of many a novel, and made for a thoughtful, informative and refreshing read. I also love reading the epilogues that shed more light on  all of her research. It’s fascinating how the story of a revered midwife turns into such an engaging mystery and family drama. It’s suspenseful, had a wonderful feminist voice, and took a lot of interesting turns.

The premise of a woman attempting to end her life at a hotel overrun by a wedding party was so intriguing and the reviews had me finally picking up this ubiquitous novel. As with most books I end up adoring, it’s hard to pinpoint exactly why. I fell for every character. I laughed so hard. It made me think. I felt nostalgic. I shed a tear. It scratched the itch that The Midnight Library by Matt Haig fell short on. I suppose I prefer a literary take that is more subtle in its approach on the subject of our humanity and the meaning of life.
“But life is strange, always thinking this one thing is going to make you happy, because then you get it, and then maybe you’re not as happy as you imagine you would be, because every day still just every day. Like the happiness becomes so big, you have no choice, but to live inside of it, until you can no longer see it or feel it. And so you start to fixate on something else – you want a child, and then the child is here, and that happiness is so big, it begins to feel like nothing. Like just the air around you.
Until it is gone, of course.”

Yes, I am adding this to my Goodreads books for the year because November was such a slog with a 700 page clunker and election brain rot! I wholeheartedly agree with the article from The Cut that this was really poorly put together, but I can’t help but love something that feels like a yearbook (high school level editing, and all) for memories that I want hold onto from the experience that was the eras tour.

This would’ve been a more entertaining read if I was a big fan of reality television. I was hoping that it would bring insight to those of us who want to be more informed about the genre. Alas, the beginning dissection of early reality programming through radio and 60s television was cumbersome with so many names and the tangled web of connections in Hollywood that I felt a little lost. Then when the book arrives in the last decade or so, the only bits I found engaging were about The Real World because that was my jam in 1992. I think I would’ve appreciated more of a cultural think piece, rather than every detail about the reality television players themselves: from producers to the stars of the shows.

I am not sure how much I can add to the discourse on Tell Me Everything. I just think Elizabeth Strout is brilliant, and reading it was such a balm to my soul. Her sparse and heartfelt prose, that delves deep into beloved everyday characters that mirror our own experiences, is like none other.