False Witness by Karin Slaughter — I read this in a New Year’s Day binge reading session, curled on the couch with snow outside. I read it directly after Pretty Girls, another Slaughter crime novel, and I feel confident saying her books will not be for everyone. The violence, particularly against women, leans toward graphic, and I know that’s a firm no for some readers. If you can stomach that, you’ll find compelling characters and an unflinching look at the way childhood trauma follows adults, even those who seem to have moved forward. False Witness also takes on the nuances of the legal system, particularly the role money plays in high stakes trials, and the way guilt has less to do with verdicts than legal navigation. When Leigh Collier finds herself defending a (very) guilty man with damning information about her past, she does her best to compartmentalize several areas of her life — until they come crashing together in devastating ways.
The Guncle by Steven Rowley — Patrick has secluded himself in Palm Springs when he finds himself in charge of his young niece and nephew for the summer. Grief surrounds all three of them, but their day-to-day banter and adventures just might crack through the fog surrounding them enough to help them join the real world again. It seems wrong to say this book is fun, because so much of it is steeped in loss, but it’s absolutely fun. I found it to be a charming book about grief, family, and sitting with oneself, all wrapped up in a Palm Springs package.
The Last Thing He Told Me by Laura Dave — I expected this to be a fairly typical thriller, and it delivers in many ways. The twisty, turning story centers on Hannah, a woman whose husband disappears, leaving her with only one task — to protect his daughter. Not all of the twists were shocking, but some were, and I liked this look at a relatively independent woman in an unconventionally maternal role. She handles an unfathomable situation in a way that remains true to who she is. Hannah and Bailey are both well-written, and the flashbacks offer clues to Owen’s disappearance — and other secrets that affect all three characters.
We Are Not Like Them by Christine Pride and Jo Piazza — This story starts by stopping your heart, and neither the tension nor the bubbling anger and sadness ever dissipate. I found it tough to read at times, but in a way that challenged the way I think and sometimes act. In many ways, time and time again, the reader asks themselves how black and white friends relate to each other — especially if they don’t discuss race at all. Jen and Riley might have become friends, practically sisters, before they truly understood the different ways black and white people move through the world, but when Jen’s police officer husband shoots an unarmed black teen, their friendship shifts into a different place, one where color-blindness simply can’t exist. Pregnant Jen wants to save her family and her friendship with Riley, whose role as a black journalist opens a gulf of miscommunication between the lifelong friends. The women need to figure out if it’s possible to move their friendship forward in a world divided by systems and experiences each of them relate to in different ways.
Ready Player Two by Ernest Cline — When an unexpected adversary arrives in the OASIS, Wade’s role as Halliday’s heir changes — and some loyalties may not survive the new, immersive experience that takes virtual reality to the next level. With two of my favorite 80s touchstones (Prince and John Hughes) well-represented, I felt more invested pop-culturally but didn’t feel the emotional urgency of the first book. Even with actual lives on the line, the action never felt incredibly high-stakes. (It would make an incredible movie, though!)
Gossip Girl by Cecily von Ziegesar — (Is something a guilty pleasure if you don’t feel guilty about it?) I haven’t watched the reboot of the show but loved the original, and the book makes me see why they made the series. I didn’t find any of the male characters particularly enticing in the book, which makes me appreciate the actors who played Nate, Chuck, and Dan. (Maybe I’m just too old for that particular type of enticing?) This book is fast, fun, and the perfect kind of fluff to read when you just need to escape somewhere other than your own brain.
The Wife Upstairs by Rachel Hawkins — When June meets Eddie Rochester, the dog walker with a secret past knows exactly how to transform her life into one she won’t have to hide. Unfortunately, the widower Rochester has secrets of his own, all of them surrounding his rich, beautiful, dead wife, and her similarly dead best friend. Twisty, turny, and suspenseful, this modern take on Jane Eyre really worked for me. I couldn’t put it down, and it made me want to pick up the classic for a re-read.
Then She Was Gone by Lisa Jewell — Laurel’s daughter disappears one day, throwing her family into shambles for years. The day Ellie’s old rucksack is found, Laurel finds tenuous closure, allowing her to move forward. Suddenly, her routine life becomes complicated, when a new beau introduces her to his daughter, a girl who bears a resemblance to her missing daughter. Told in both past and present timelines, Jewell shines by diving emotionally into the bonds between parents and children and how intuition can sometimes trump facts. The book broke my heart as it touches on the suffering of Laurel and her various children, but I liked this book and will look for more from Jewell.
The Good Sister by Sally Hepworth — Twin sisters Rose and Fern have a different take on their childhood, from their relationship with their brain damaged mother and a drowning tragedy that shaped both their lives. Steadfast Rose and sensitive Fern depend on each other in several ways, not all of which feel particularly healthy. When Fern decides, on her own, to have a baby to help her sister, meeting a tech-genius-turned-van-lifer has unexpected consequences for all three. Even before Gone Girl, journals and diaries can foreshadow unreliable narration, but Fern’s spotty memory and lack of understanding for social constructs makes more than Rose’s journal questionable. While I liked this, I’m starting to feel the pull towards other genres for a bit.
*Razorblade Tears by S.A. Cosby – When Isiah and Derek, a gay couple, are brutally murdered, it makes sense that their fathers find solace in their shared grief. For Ike and Buddy Lee, their criminal pasts and troubled relationships with their sons combine in a way that ignites that grief into a need for revenge. As the black and white men forge a tentative alliance, they find themselves confronting prejudices about their children and each other that threatens to destroy their partnership. Cosby doesn’t sugarcoat the lengths Ike and Buddy Lee have to go through to work together, and the story captures the raw, painful emotions of parents who know they haven’t always been available for their kids, physically or emotionally. This book doesn’t flinch away from violence or pain, so it won’t be for everyone, but I believe it’s one of the best books I’ll read this year.
*Mexican Gothic by Silvia Moreno-Garcia – Gorgeous and terrifying, Mexican Gothic uses magical realism to explore a woman’s agency in a world where marriage and family take precedence over individual autonomy. Naomi is charming and a little frustrating as she tries to determine why her once-vibrant cousin is wasting away in her new husband’s familiar home — a husband who seems just as interested in Naomi as he does his wife. Grotesque, compelling, and impossible to ignore, I can’t wait to read more from Moreno-Garcia.
Pretty Things by Janelle Brown – When Nina’s past collides with her present, she grapples with part of her con she can truly trust. Perception, guilt, and who you can trust all mix together to keep readers guessing about who’s conning who, all set in a world of high cost antiques, million dollar emergency funds, and the troubling, revealing nature of social media.
A Slow Fire Burning by Paula Hawkins – A novel within a novel weaves in and out of the plot of A Slow Fire Burning, leaving questions surrounding the character of novelist Theo Myerson and would-be memoirist Miriam Lewis. When a woman’s sister and nephew end up dead within weeks of each other, it’s hard not to be suspicious — especially when one of them has a cut throat. The problem is, which of the damaged characters should the reader suspect? All of them at various times, it seems, as secrets reveal themselves and possible motives shift with each reveal. I liked this but didn’t love it, though readers of crime fiction and a penchant for unreliable narrators should give it a whirl.
The Big Four by Agatha Christie – A classic Christie mystery, I remember reading The Big Four from my mom’s bookcase as a child. Upon my re-reading, this one really shows how some of the tropes Christie uses don’t really transcend time, especially the racial and cultural stereotypes. As always, I appreciate the relationship between Hercule Poirot and Captain Hastings, though this book really makes you wonder what exactly Mrs. Hastings did during the months upon months of her husband’s many absences.
A Court of Thorns and Roses, A Court of Mist and Fury, A Court of Wings and Ruin, A Court of Frost and Starlight, A Court of Silver Flames by Sarah J. Maas – I originally picked one of these up for Abbey, but she isn’t particularly interested in fantasy, so I started reading it. To be honest, at first I had an issue with it, because it felt a little like it pulled from all sorts of different fantasy tropes (faeries, shape-shifters, magic, etc.) Although I know those things are entwined in different ways, this felt slightly contrived. However, I couldn’t stop reading them. They’re a little steamy for YA literature, which doesn’t bother me. (In fact, when I read one of them was being challenged in our school libraries, I re-encouraged Abbey to try them, but she still declined.) Like so many YA fantasy books, this series deals with the tension between humans and creatures that are more than human, particularly what happens when they fall in love in a way that has repercussions for others. I’m not going to review each of them individually, because I do think anyone who likes the first one will end up reading the series through to the end, including the side book that explores a branch of the story. Feyre, the human main character, proves interesting as she navigates a world of creatures she never intended to like, let alone fall in love with. I particularly enjoyed the way she worked through the mistakes she makes, and she definitely makes some big ones, both with her human family and the family she builds for herself across the wall separating the humans from the other world. If you’re looking for a bit of escape, these will fit the bill, especially if you’re willing to just go along for the ride.
Black House –
A Pocketful of Rye –
*The Matrix –
*Arcadia by Lauren Groff – I loved this book so much I barely made notes on it, because I always thought I’d come back to it in a more complete way. Groff looks at life on a commune through the lens of a child, exploring the elasticity of the past and the way childhood perceptions shape truth and experience. I found it interesting to think about how each of us take the lives of our parents and muddle through their beaten path to find our own individuality. The ideas of community and the need for fairy tale lessons in our darkest moments made this an unforgettable read for me.
The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo –
We Are All Completely Beside Ourselves by Karen Joy Fowler – I recommend this, though my thoughts on it come across in a convoluted way. Reading this book without knowing the premise helps make the experience more authentic. The Cooke family feels like many families, two parents, three siblings, and relationships that change based on who is spending time with whom at the time — not that anyone can spend time with brother Lowell after he disappears of his own accord. Fern narrates the story of her family, letting you know her telling isn’t happening in chronological order, which allows the reader to make and unmake impressions of her family as she peels away the layers of good intentions that led to complicated consequences for the whole family.
* This Is How It Always Is by Laurie Frankel – I struggled to do a small review of this, because it feels like an important book. The importance lies in its simplicity about such a complicated subject — transgendered kids. This book plops you right in the middle of a real, loving, messy family filled with boys and chaos. Rosie and Penn are the fiercely loving parents of a brood of boys, five to be exact, who will do anything to make sure their children feel loved, seen, and accepted, even if means moving across the country, and even if it means welcoming someone into their family they never expected. Watching the baby of the family move from Claude to Poppy, and watching the way their family navigates something so new to them feels complicated and simple at the same time, just like real life. You’ll love everyone in this family, even when they’re frustrating, maybe especially when they’re frustrating. And you’ll remember how powerful love and true acceptance can really be.
Family of Liars by e. Lockhart –
Dare me by Megan (re-read) –
The Monsters of Templeton by Lauren Groff – I’ve been on a Lauren Groff kick, and I enjoyed this, though it isn’t my favorite of hers. Willy returns to Templeton with a secret, some drama, and the need for a major distraction. Her mother drops a few of her own secrets right into Willy’s lap, providing a project perfect for her research-loving daughter. Along with the fabric of a small town with a storied history, Groff provides an unknown species of a sea monster, and the sort of complicated relationships that lead to satisfying, if not exactly happy, endings. I personally found myself more interested in the present-day plot than the stories Willy unearths about her family’s past, but if you like historical fiction, this offers a bit of that along with the contemporary story.
Not a Happy Family by Shari Lapena – I picked this up because I needed a quick thriller / mystery read one day. I’m not sure if I’m tiring of the genre a bit, but this one was just so-so for me. I understand that the premise of the story is that there’s a lot of unhappiness in the Merton family, but I felt that all of the characters were written to be so unlikeable that I truly didn’t mind that one of the Merton siblings might end up getting away with a gruesome double homicide. I kept reading, because I did want to find out who killed the Merton parents.
The Other Woman by Sandie Jones – Still on my thriller kick, despite feeling lackluster about the last one. When Emily meets Adam, their connection feels electric — at least until she meets his beloved mother, Pammie. As their relationship progresses, Emily gathers more and more evidence that Pammie is trying to sabotage their connection. With a mysterious dead love of his life under Adam’s belt and an attractive younger brother angling to get closer to Emily, Adam and Emily might not be able to sort out their family secrets in time to salvage the wedding — let alone the relationship. This one read quickly, though the pace felt uneven to me. I thought the premise was strong, though the twists and turns ended up being fairly expected (which is probably my fault for burying my head deep in this genre the past several years).
One by One by Ruth Ware – One of my favorite writers in the “reminiscent of Agatha Christie” genre, Ruth Ware captivates from the beginning with a hipster group of start up employees on a luxury ski retreat. The setting leads to a feeling of claustrophobia, as a potential buyout leads the guests to turn on each other. An avalanche compounds the stakes, and Danny and Erin, the chalet’s employed hosts, struggle to keep the weekend from careening into something out of a horror movie. One of my favorite things about Ware’s writing is her ability to twist her characters from likable to unlikable and back again with a few glances, phrases, or dropped hints about motivation.
The Cousins by Karen McManus – I bought this for Abbey, but I am obviously happy to read YA drama/thrillers at any time. This reminded me of one of my favorites (and Abbey’s!), We Were Liars, in some ways. When three not-so-close cousins are summoned to their wealthy grandmother’s resort to work for the summer, their disinherited parents eagerly send them, anxious to get their children back into their mother’s good graces. I appreciated the individual personalities of Milly, Aubrey, and Jonah and the way their lives reflect how their grandmother’s treatment of their parents has shaped their own personalities. Family dramas always hook me, and this one definitely did as it careened towards an unexpected ending. A few of the twists weren’t utterly surprising, but I felt that the storyline wrapped things up without leaving holes in the explanation as it unfolded.
The Golden Couple by Greer Hendricks & Sarah Pekkanen – I read this more quickly than expected because I couldn’t sleep and just kept reading. One of the things I enjoyed the most about this novel can’t be expressly articulated, because it would spoil some of the storyline. Even with lots of twists and turns, this manages to flesh out its characters without relying too much on thriller tropes. Between Avery and Marissa, the two main female characters, flaws and potential stereotypes abound, but they feel real and relatable. As Marissa and her husband work to save their marriage, their unconventional therapist begins to wonder when and where their outwardly golden marriage began to tarnish. Readers may be able to unravel the tangled web of a flirty friend, overly conscientious assistant, and complicated family relationships, but it’s a tense ride. (Plus, you’ll find a sweet, adopted dog and an adorable boutique, which are just some of the small details that make this a textured, enjoyable read.)
The People We Keep by Allison Larkin – I loved this book and believe anyone who appreciates friends becoming family will love it, too. April basically raises herself, with a little help and a lot of love from diner owner, Margo. Her mom leaves town completely, and her dad leaves her to fend for herself when he slides into a new relationship that comes with a ready-made family. Her guitar, given as a last minute gift by her father, becomes her one solace, and when she loses it, she flees everything threatening to tether her to a town that doesn’t show her much love at all. As April wanders from New York to Florida and back again, she falls in love with a lifestyle that allows her to leave friends and lovers alike when she worries she’ll let them down the same ways she was let down in the past. This book touches on the lifeblood of human connection, and the way people become our family, even when we think we don’t deserve their love.
The Talisman by Stephen King and Peter Straub – I read Black House during spring break, because it was Kindle available, so I re-read the two books out of order this year. (I haven’t read either of them in years.) I read this because Dylan is interested in reading it, and I wanted to remember the story in the event that he has questions. I’d forgotten how compelling it is to follow Jack’s journey across the country and through the Territories and how bits of the Dark Tower world-building peek through. I can’t remember all of the ways the threads of Stephen King’s books twist together and overlap, and I don’t read Peter Straub on his own, but I love when I can spot the small moments that I do find. At the heart of this story is a boy who wants to save his mother and the forces standing in his way, both human and not, and the forces and friends that align to help him.
* A History of Wild Places by Shea Ernshaw – The premise of this book reminded me of The Village by M. Night Shyamalan, but there’s so much more to the story than Pastoral originally seems. Travis Wren finds people through a talent that didn’t help him when he needed it the most. Maggie St. James writes dark fairy tales that lead her into the woods. Their stories collide, early in the plot, when Travis follows a lead into the woods where Maggie disappeared years earlier. The story then flips to the perspective of a family living in Pastoral, a small commune of people who want to live simple, unencumbered lives away from the outside world. They fear a sickness lurking in the elm trees, a sickness that keeps them bound to the small community they’ve built. When a baby is born prematurely, Pastoral finds itself torn between those who want to reach out in search of modern medicine and those who fear what breeching the border means for the health and wellness of the Pastoral residents. Calla, Theo, and Bee, a family made up of a married couple, Calla and Theo, and her sister Bee, find themselves keeping secrets from each other and then from the other village members that threaten the foundation of Pastoral — and their own health. I summarized more than I normally do in these reviews, but I adored this book. I literally couldn’t stop reading it. Ernshaw beautifully balances the combination of family secrets, the mystery of what really happened to Travis and Maggie St. James, and the overreaching feeling of a dreamlike, dark, fairy tale. The excerpts of Maggie’s children’s books drive the story into a magical place, where light and darkness threaten to overtake each other until the reader isn’t sure where the danger truly lies.
The School for Good Mothers by Jessamine Chan- A must-read for women who worry about not parenting in the right way, which is every mother I know at one time or another. When one woman has a very bad day, she slides straight into a system intent on showing her the millions of things she is doing wrong with her daughter, without any promise she’ll have the chance to remedy the mistake she made. Jessamine Chan’s words take the reader to dark places in a matter-of-fact way, a terrifying look at the way people can get lost in a system designed to force perfection in a role where perfection is an illusion.
The Measure by Nikki Erlick – A simple concept — strings that show your life expectancy — can be the most terrifying ideas of all. When little boxes appear on doorsteps, on a global scale, people suddenly have an idea of when their lives will end. As humanity seems inclined to do, people try to ignore or analyze, embrace or rage against, what the boxes hold. As relationships fracture apart or cleave together, each person needs to decide how to approach their own “measure,” and those of the people they love. When a politician grasps onto the strings as a way to surge ahead in the polls, it becomes clear that the measure of a life involves so much more than one’s own breath.
The Lies I Tell by Julie Clark – Meg Williams didn’t set out to destroy Kat Roberts’ life, but her actions do just that, and Kat has waited years to make things right. The two women, a self-proclaimed grifter and a disgraced reporter, become friends — though both women know they’re being played. Their game of cat and mouse leads them to circle each other, and the men around them, until something must give. Clark’s story dives deeper into the heart of a con, including looking at when the ends might justify the means, even when lives lie in wreckage along the way to justice.
Verity by Colleen Hoover – (re-read) – I was slower to come around to Colleen Hoover than most, and I’m glad I gave this a re-read. I wasn’t sure about it the first time I read it, partially because I was expecting something a little different than what Verity turned out to be. When the Crawford family hires Lowen to “co-write” the remainder of a wildly popular series penned by Verity Crawford, she isn’t sure what to expect. An accident has left Verity unable to comprehend or community, and the entire family is mired in a collection of deadly happenings. As Lowen tries to figure out how to step into Verity’s plans for her books, she gets tangled up in Verity’s autobiographical manuscript. The pages reveal an inner life Lowen never expected, and things become even more complicated by her attraction to Verity’s husband, Jeremy. The plot twists and turns around history, truth, and passion, and it’s impossible to look away from the potential tragedy that seems inevitable for anyone involved with the Crawfords.
Carrie Soto Is Back by Taylor Jenkins Reid – My tennis knowledge might be limited, but those scenes kept me engaged and wanting to learn more about the game. More importantly, what a look at how female ambition gets parsed and twisted and inevitably tied to the way they look and talk, and not to what they accomplish.
Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin – I loved this and never reviewed it, because that’s kind of my theme for the year in general. There’s a love story, though perhaps unconventional, though those might be the best kind. There’s a look at humanity and immortality, and how creativity collides with reality in a kaleidoscope of hopeful and heartbreaking ways, making me question why I don’t focus more on a creative life than the things that drain me.
Sea of Tranquility by Emily St. John Mandel – Every time I pick up one of her books, I worry I won’t like it as much as her others. Every time, I’m wrong, and that includes the re-reads I do. Whether she’s writing about the past, the present, the future, or some mashup of the three, she explores both the dark corners and the inherent hope of humanity without flinching.
The Man Who Died Twice by Richard Osman
The Talented Mr. Ripley by Patricia Highsmith
Ripley Under Ground by Patricia Highsmith
The Starless Sea by Erin Morgenstern
Rock Paper Scissors by Alice Feeny
We Were Never Here by Andrea Bartz
Circe by Madeline Miller
The Ballerinas by Rachel Kapelke-Dale
The Paris Apartment by Lucy Foley