Faber has written an incredible book, packaged beautifully—what a gift. I couldn’t help but be completely taken by it. Like all great storytelling, it contains a little bit of everything, but not too much of anything. It’s a moving exploration of relationships, faith, acts of grace and salvation, of humanity. Pick it up, read the description if you must, but then give yourself the book.
I am completely stunned by Black’s first novel. I have enjoyed a lot of books lately, but, until reading this, I did not realize how much I’ve been missing the whole body impact of a book. Beautiful writing, effortlessly pinpointed to emotion without being emotive, Black writes life itself, tackling marriage, grief, trust, art, inspiration, friendship, motherhood, all of it.
As I read the first pages of The Children Act, I found myself wanting to slow down, to soak in these words for a while. This novel is pure Ian McEwan—perfectly weighted and paced, with characters who breathe on the page. But the thing about a novel by McEwan is that you can’t linger; the story insists that you continue. The Children Act is the work of a master.
This novel follows the adventures, lovers and mistakes of two sisters—ambitious, fickle Iris, and mature, practical Eva—through 1940s Hollywood, wealthy and working-class suburbs of New York, and Germany at the end of World War II. Bloom’s unpretentious, effortless writing is quick-paced yet profoundly moving, magical yet matter-of-fact.
Wyld’s novel starts on a cold and desolate English island, where the main character—Jake, the only young and female shepherd for miles—is trying figure out what is killing her sheep. It then moves back and forth in time, revealing Jake’s previous life in Australia and the gruesome events that drove her to such an isolated place. The writing is beautiful, the structure dazzling.
A novel in the form of recommendation letters? Sounds like a literary stunt, but Schumacher nails it. She perfectly blends satire and genuine human emotion, offering a hilarious commentary on modern academia through one professor’s tired pen and fading sanity. If you’ve ever needed a letter of recommendation or written one, you’ll laugh and you’ll cry.
Ariel Lawhon is a master at capturing a reader's interest and holding their heart captive right up to the last moment. I had very complicated feelings toward the three titular characters and my heart was stretched and pulled throughout their whole ordeal. The suspense, the history, and the atmosphere all combined to keep me up late at night.
Present day, an actor playing King Lear has a heart attack and dies. Fifteen years later, after a worldwide pandemic, a caravan of actors and musicians travel the ruins of the US performing Shakespeare and fighting for survival. When the two storylines come together at the book’s heartbreaking climax, you will be both terrified of the future and overjoyed to be human and alive.
Winters’s Last Policeman trilogy is one of the most original series I’ve ever read, and World of Trouble brings it to a stellar close. The premise seems dark (the world is ending!), but these books are funny and wise. I love how Winters considers what people would do knowing the end is nigh, and how the stakes are raised as the day of reckoning approaches.
There are a thousand ways to write a sentence and Merritt Tierce seems to find the newest, best one, unique, not all put together, and exactly perfect. It’s not the most uplifting tale, one of a young waitress struggling to find herself amidst the sex, drugs and poor decisions of early adulthood, and yet there is so much heart to Marie, so much hope in spite of herself.