The Merge

The Merge

by Grace Walker

Mariner, 2025. 320 pages. Sci Fi.

Laurie is sixty-five and living with Alzheimer’s. Her daughter Amelia, a once fiery and strong-willed activist, can’t bear to see her mother’s mind fade. Faced with the reality of losing her forever, Amelia signs them up to take part in the world’s first experimental merging process for Alzheimer’s patients, in which Laurie’s ailing mind will be transferred into Amelia’s healthy body, and their consciousness will be blended as one. Soon Amelia and Laurie join the opaque and mysterious group of merge participants. As they prepare to move to The Village, a luxurious rehabilitation center for those who have merged, they quickly begin to question whether everything is really as it seems.

This dark, complex debut stuck with me after I finished reading. The futuristic, borderline dystopian society provides a immersive backdrop for this thought-provoking dive into tough topics like personal identity and freedom, the nature of selfishness, ethical limits in scientific studies, sacrifice and self-care, mental health stigma and suicide, and end-of-life care. It's giving Black Mirror in the best possible way, including the excoriating social commentary and lingering sense of unease that regular viewers appreciate.

Walker delivers a character-focused multiple-POV narrative whose seamless transitions from voice to voice are beautifully captured in the audio co-narration. This works creeps towards psychological horror without quite crossing over. There is significant disturbing content, including suicide, memory loss, medical content, death, and more that I'm probably forgetting, as well as open-door sex scenes (which of course cannot be included uniformly under the heading "disturbing content").

I'm not sure how I felt about the ending. Some have called it open, which is generously understated: so she was drugged, and what of her mom? She's just gone? And what happened next? That's somehow worse than the "it was all just a dream" trope. It seemed rather abrupt and underdeveloped, as if the idea was either inexplicably forestalled or a slapdash eleventh-hour addition. Honestly, the ambiguous and unexpected conclusion was a little jarring and incongruous with the work, despite its otherwise intensifying pace (that really exploded around the midpoint!) and fantastic prior plot twists; I can't be entirely sure that that was wholly intentional.

No One Aboard

No One Aboard

by Emy McGuire

Graydon House, 2025. 368 pages. Thriller.

At the start of summer, billionaire couple Francis and Lila Cameron set off on their private luxury sailboat to celebrate the high school graduation of their two beloved children. Three weeks later, the Camerons have not been heard from, the captain hasn’t responded to radio calls, and the sailboat is found floating off the coast of Florida. Empty. Where are the Camerons? What happened on their trip? And ultimately, who is more dangerous to a family: a stormy ocean or each other?

I was not privileged to grow up in a household where sailing was commonplace. I remember sailing a few times at Scout camp to get a merit badge, but that took place in a reservoir in central Utah rather than the illustrious world of the Rich and Famous™. That said, I enjoyed this glimpse into this foreign world of excess, with its toxic family relationships and manipulative, deceitful secrets. There was a fair amount of the kind of family drama that makes so many reality TV so binge-worthy. 

The intensifying pace (which admittedly begins a tad slow) and not quite definable sense of unease and foreboding made for an eye-opening closed-room who-dun-it thriller; I honestly thought that it could have been just about anyone because they all were awful humans who, being candid, I don't think deserved to survive this story. They all should've been held accountable for their crimes, but maybe that makes this work all the more relatable to us plebeians. Be ready for multiple timelines and POVs, but not the jarring kind that fragments a story.

Hearts in Circulation

Hearts in Circulation

by Sarah Monzon

Bethany House, 2025. 304 pages. Romance.

Book #2 in the series "Checking Out Love" (but can be read as a stand-alone)

Circulation librarian Haley Holt is afraid that the ramshackle Little Creek bookmobile isn't quite fit for service. Her fears come true when the bookmobile breaks down and a rockslide traps her in the small hollow of Turkey Grove. Reclusive mechanic Levi Redding lives there to get away from people. He can handle getting the bookmobile running again, but the endless chatter and unsettling touch from the vibrant librarian leaves him overstimulated. When forced proximity leads to a misunderstanding, a note of apology begins an epistolary friendship, proving that sometimes the happiest of endings aren't contained within the bindings of a book. 

Given my line of work, I'm a bit biased toward stories that favorably depict librarians. This lighthearted romance brings awareness of sensory issues and other forms of neurodivergence, as well as discussing mental health topics like grief and fear, and the importance of libraries to communities. Monzon deftly weaves in these topics into the narrative without becoming preachy or dry. While the chemistry did seem a bit contrived and unrealistically instant, the literary references and cute kittens (I'm being for real) sold me on this sweet, fluffy romcom read, just in time for upcoming Valentine festivities.

This work is marketed by Bethany House as a "Christian romance" (as are all of their publications), but there is very little reference to religion or God beyond mealtime prayer. The eleventh hour mention of faith came across as almost abrupt, as if an editor hastily crammed it in last minute to meet a benchmark or quota. Readers used to this subgenre may be uncomfortable with the spice level, which admittedly does not rise much above (abundant and passionate) on-page kissing; heaven forbid delicate sensibilities are offended by the thought of a couple cohabitating outside of wedlock (gasp!).

Bury Your Gays

Bury Your Gays

by Chuck Tingle

Tor Nightfire, 2024. 295 pages. Horror.

Misha knows that chasing success in Hollywood can be hell. But finally, after years of trying to make it, his big moment is here: an Oscar nomination. And the executives at the studio for his long-running streaming series know just the thing to kick his career to the next level: kill off the gay characters, "for the algorithm," in the upcoming season finale. Misha refuses, but he soon realizes that he’s just put a target on his back. And what’s worse, monsters from his horror movie days are stalking him and his friends through the hills above Los Angeles. Haunted by his past, Misha must risk his entire future – before the horrors from the silver screen find a way to bury him for good.

I'll be the first to admit that horror isn't my first go-to genre. But I've been trying to appreciate the genre more. Tingle strikes a good chord here with a clever storyline that evoked discomfort with its gory, graphic, upsetting descriptions of body horror. 

I was surprised by the undertones (or overtones?) that spoke to corporate greed and queer erasure in media, and I didn't expect to be that deeply touched by this work. Plus, these topics are handled in a way that doesn't come across as heavy-handed or pedantic, nor does it detract from the storytelling. 

While the pacing lagged a touch in the middle, I was strangely uplifted by the value of honoring all parts of yourself and refusing to hide your identity. It's fair to say that I didn't foresee any of this, given Tingle's enormous self-published œuvre which largely comprises satire and what one might call performance art in prose (and what is technically gay monster erotica).

A Different Kind of Power

A Different Kind of Power: A Memoir

by Jacinda Ardern

Crown, 2025. 352 pages. Biography.

When Jacinda Ardern became Prime Minister at age thirty-seven, the world took notice. But it was her compassionate yet powerful response to the 2019 Christchurch mosque attacks, resulting in swift and sweeping gun control laws, that demonstrated her remarkable leadership. She guided her country through unprecedented challenges – a volcanic eruption, a major biosecurity breach, and a global pandemic – while advancing visionary new policies to address climate change, reduce child poverty, and secure historic international trade deals. She did all this while juggling first-time motherhood in the public eye. Ardern exemplifies a new kind of leadership, proving that leaders can be caring, empathetic, and effective.

Admittedly, I didn't know much about Ardern before reading this memoir. I found the story of an ordinary person who not only endured but thrived in extraordinary conditions. This work was written to an international audience and doesn't require any knowledge of New Zealand parliament or government structure to be accessible. There were remarkable moments of humble introspection that helped me reflect on my own values and the values of those in political power. It gives me hope to know there are people like this in government, despite what I so often see in my own nation and on the news.

Winging It with You

Winging It with You

by Chip Pons

G.P. Putnam's Sons, 2025. 384 pages. Romance.

Asher Bennet thought his relationship was just fine. Until he’s unceremoniously dumped at the Boston airport ahead of the world-wide travel competition reality show, The Epic Trek. Asher is determined to find a new partner and luckily, right in front of him is a smooth-talking airline pilot ready for takeoff. Theo Fernandez has been grounded. As he struggles to bask in his new downtime, without reconnecting with his family, he stumbles upon the perfect opportunity. Theo and Asher buckle up to fake date for the cameras, but as they do the undercurrents of attraction make them wonder if their on-screen chemistry hints at something bigger.

Every so often, I need what I call "cotton candy" reads: something light and fluffy, perhaps without a lot of substance, but sweet and palatable. That's exactly what I found in this work. The main characters are both extremely lovable, and it really just hit the spot. 

Too often, MM romances are written for the female gaze, with heteronormative standards (i.e., one masc partner with one femme), or unrealistic sex mechanics, or blatant fetishization. Pons does a good job of writing a realistic, refreshing story with surprising emotional depth for the genre. I also appreciated how he chose to focus on the joy the characters are pursuing rather than the pain they go through: we still feel pain in both sides of the story, but it's not the central focus as happens all too often in gay literature. A delightful, modern rom-com with impressive character development despite an ending that might have dragged the tiniest bit.

Pieces You'll Never Get Back

Pieces You'll Never Get Back: A Memoir of Unlikely Survival

by Samina Ali

Catapult, 2025. 272 pages. Biography.

At 29, Samina Ali nearly died giving birth to her son. Miraculously, she survived the unchecked eclampsia, instead sustaining major brain injury and falling into a coma as she gave birth. When she awoke, her husband was a stranger to her, she didn’t remember having a baby, and any language other than her native Urdu was foreign. Medical consensus was she would never recover. Ali began the long and difficult journey of piecing herself back together, learning to walk, speak, and accomplish basic tasks alongside her newborn. Despite her miraculous survival, the disconnect between the old and the new self was devastating. Ali pairs her story of recovery with her Islamic upbringing and her fluctuating connection to her faith.

As a single gay man with no children, I'm obviously quite unfamiliar with the process and inherent risks of pregnancy and childbirth. The raw and honest detail with which Ali recounts her journey is eye-opening, and she gives her reader sufficient pauses to not be flash-banged by hit after hit of medical complications. I appreciate how she weaves religious topics into her experiences, and she provides a fascinating peek into Islamic traditions regarding childbirth that I had never encountered before. Through it all, Ali presents herself candidly and vulnerably, letting the reader see an honest register of the hurt and pain she experienced from all sides, including from within. This gently-paced memoir of a remarkably harrowing time has a powerful and lasting impact.

If We Survive This

If We Survive This

by Racquel Marie

Feiwel & Friends, 2025. 336 pages. Horror.

Flora Braddock Paz has always considered herself weak. But half a year into the global outbreak of a rabies mutation that transforms people into violent, zombielike "rabids," she and her older brother Cain are still alive. With their mom dead, their dad missing, and their LA suburb left desolate, they form a plan: to venture to their secluded family cabin in northern California, their best chance at a safe haven – and maybe even seeing their dad again. The dangers of the world have changed, but so has Flora. Still, their journey upstate is complicated by familiar faces, hidden truths, and painful memories of the family making this trip last year. For Flora, one thing inevitably remains: no matter how far you run, death is never far behind.

I haven't read very many apocalyptic stories that feature queer or neurodiverse characters, and this one refreshingly has both. The sibling dynamics between Flora and Cain seemed very true to life. This spooky little read has its fair share of violence and gore, but it mainly centers on community, family, and belonging. This wasn't nearly as nightmare-inducing as the bone-chilling œuvre of Stephen King and the like (but I did have to pause when a certain inevitable scene involving the dog Biscuit came around... but don't worry, the dog doesn't die).

The Bible Says So

The Bible Says So: What We Get Right (and Wrong) About Scripture’s Most Controversial Issues

by Daniel McClellan

St. Martin's, 2025. 320 pages. Nonfiction.

The Bible is the world’s most influential book, but do we really know what it says? Every day across social media and in homes, businesses, and public spaces, people try to cut debate short by claiming that "the Bible says so!" However, they commonly disagree about what it actually does and doesn't say, particularly when it comes to socially significant issues. McClellan leverages his popular "data over dogma" approach and his years of experience in the academy and on social media to lay out in clear and accessible ways what the data indicate the Bible does and doesn't say about issues ranging from homosexuality, abortion, and slavery to monotheism, inspiration, and God's wife.

I've long been a fan of McClellan's videos and his respectful yet direct approach to debunking (or rarely, confirming) claims made by other Bible devotees. What I find fascinating about both his videos and this work is his singular ability to remove himself and his opinions from his discussion of Biblical content. He provides evidence and discusses ideas regarding what is actually in the Bible, not his personal religious beliefs nor how Biblical teachings should be applied. 

McClellan has helped me develop my relationship towards the Bible and see it as an anthology of religious stories from various authors who lived in various times and places, writing to various audiences for various reasons. It isn't univocal and it's okay if it disagrees with itself. This is a better way for me to take the Bible seriously, rather than to force it to fit what I may want it to say to support dogmas and traditions.

Just because it's in the Bible doesn't mean I believe it. Just because I believe it doesn't mean it's in the Bible.

You Are Fatally Invited

You Are Fatally Invited

by Ande Pliego

Bantam, 2025. 371 pages. Thriller.

When renowned anonymous author J. R. Alastor hires former aspiring writer Mila del Angél to host a writing retreat at his private manor off the coast of Maine, she jumps at the chance – particularly since she has an ax to grind with one of the invitees. The guest list? Six thriller authors, all masters of deceit, misdirection, and mayhem. Alastor and Mila have masterminded a week of games, trope-fueled riddles, and maybe a jump scare or two: the perfect cover for Mila to plot a murder of her own. But when a guest turns up dead – and it’s not the murder she planned – Mila finds herself trapped in a different narrative altogether. With a storm cutting off the island, and the body count rising, Mila must outwit a killer who knows literally every trick in the book.

It's been a minute since I've read a good thriller, and this definitely scratched the itch. This locked-room mystery reminded me of Agatha Christie's And Then There Were None plus a few unexpected twists and a sprinkling of the board game Cluedo (better known to North American audiences as Clue). The audiobook used different narrators to identify the various perspectives, but even still I got a little confused sometimes, especially by the second-person passages.  Also, the several intertwining plotlines were a touch on the overwrought side (bordering on convoluted) for my personal liking. However, this brilliant and complex work was well executed and enjoyable, and the biggest twist was not identifying the bad guy, as that revelation was actually rather underwhelming.

How to Piss Off Men

How to Piss Off Men: 109 Things to Say to Shatter the Male Ego

by Kyle Prue

Sourcebooks, 2024. 144 pages. Nonfiction.

Have you ever been badgered by an annoying pick-up artist at the bar? Ever felt a burning desire to emotionally torture a friend’s boyfriend in an act of revenge? Have you ever endured just talking to a man? If so, this book is for you. With more than 100 phrases, questions, and comebacks, How to Piss Off Men is your essential guide to sending even the most relentless mansplainer into an existential crisis. Whether it’s referring to his NFL jersey as “cosplay” or letting him know he has the confidence of a much taller man, this handbook will ensure you’re equipped to combat toxic masculinity in any situation.

With an air of levity, this quick read is a real page-turner, with usually only a few sentences per page. Prue also delivers surprisingly poignant afterword commentary on the damaging and damning effect of a patriarchal society on people of all genders, calling for men to "take our cultural medicine" by allowing anger to "inform us of our hurt and finally heal from it."

First-Time Caller

First-Time Caller

by B.K. Borison

Berkley, 2025. 448 pages. Romance

Book #1 in the series "Heartstrings"

Aiden Valentine has a secret: he's fallen out of love with love. And as the host of Baltimore's romance hotline, that's a bit of a problem. But when a young girl calls in asking for dating advice for her mom Lucie, the interview goes viral, thrusting Aiden and his show Heartstrings into the limelight. Lucie Stone thought she was doing just fine. But when all of Baltimore is suddenly scrutinizing her love life (or lack thereof), she begins to question if she's as happy as she thought. Everyone wants Lucie to find her happy ending – even the handsome, temperamental man calling the shots. When sparks start to fly behind the scenes, Lucie must make the final call between the radio-sponsored Happily Ever After and the man right next to her.

This was a sweet, fluffy romance that I really enjoyed. The premise was original, and the writing was very well done. The audio format naturally lends itself well to the "on air" portions, and it was clever how these sections were portrayed. The pacing did lull in a few spots, but that's nothing unforgivable. I do think Aiden needs therapy, but don't we all? 

Caveat lector: this work contains a few scenes of open-door intimacy. Honestly, I'm not really sure how to feel about the scene in the closet -- is it really realistic to cum from riding someone's thigh? -- but maybe that's just because sex with women is something I'm not interested in at all, whether it's in literature or elsewhere. It didn't ruin the book for me, which might be saying something.

Sunrise on the Reaping

Sunrise on the Reaping

by Suzanne Collins

Scholastic, 2025. 387 pages. Sci-Fi

Book #0.5 in the series "Hunger Games"

As the day dawns on the fiftieth annual Hunger Games, fear grips the districts of Panem. This year, in honor of the Quarter Quell, twice as many tributes will be taken from their homes. Back in District 12, Haymitch Abernathy is trying not to think too hard about his chances. All he wants is to make it through the day and be with the girl he loves. When Haymitch’s name is called, he’s torn from his family and his love, and shuttled to the Capitol with the three other tributes. As the Games begin, Haymitch understands he’s been set up to fail. But there’s something in him that wants to fight – and have that fight reverberate far beyond the deadly arena.

It's not an understatement to say that I was a Hunger Games girlie when the dystopian series came out in 2008-2010. I was in high school, the target demographic, and it was exactly what I needed at the time. Flash forward to 2020, when Collins published The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, a prequel to the original trilogy. I thought it was alright, but it just wasn't up to the same caliber as the first three. I was apprehensive to read Sunrise on the Reaping, but that was quickly dismissed as I dove back into the familiar world of Panem. Some have criticized this book for pandering to fans with cameos and namedrops, but I say: let Collins pander. This is exactly the fanservice I wanted after so many years of fandom. That said, I do wish we had seen more development in the character of President Snow: he seemed to be too similar to the version of him we see with Katniss, and it would have been nice to see a midpoint between that and who he is in Songbirds and Snakes. Is this work some big, earthshattering revelation that changes how I see the whole series? No, and I think that that's okay.

The Small and the Mighty

The Small and the Mighty: Twelve Unsung Americans Who Changed the Course of History, from the Founding to the Civil Rights Movement

by Sharon McMahon

Thesis, 2024. 320 pages. Nonfiction

Most pundits and historians sell a dangerously naïve version of the American story: either praising its most consequential figures uncritically or criticizing them unfairly. McMahon believes the truth is more human. She here tells the inspiring stories of twelve Americans – regular people with human foibles – whose extraordinary heroism in the face of mounting trials created the character of our country. With clarity and candor, McMahon follows the daughter of formerly enslaved parents who sparked a reformation in Black education, a Japanese immigrant who nearly died in combat and became a consequential Senator, and the electrician who saved her husband’s life.

I had the wonderful chance to go with a bestie to hear McMahon speak on her press tour for this work in October 2024. I hadn't read the book beforehand, and I quickly realized that I was missing out for sure. McMahon's extensive research shows in the depth of the stories, and the inspiring lessons learned from these unsung heroes are impactful. She also intersperses the work with her personable asides and commentary, which made for an entertaining read that felt nothing like a boring history lesson. 

This was a good book to read slowly, enjoying the nuance of each episode and the multifaceted characters involved. In this politically fraught time when I'm not so sure that I'm always proud to be an American, McMahon reminds us of the goodness of humanity and the meaning of what America is at her best.

Hera

Hera

by Jennifer Saint

Flatiron, 2024. 389 pages. Fantasy

Hera, immortal goddess and daughter of the Titan Cronos, helped her brother Zeus to overthrow their tyrannical father so that they could rule the world. But as they establish their reign on Mount Olympus, Hera suspects that Zeus might be just as ruthless and cruel as their father was. She begins to question her role: she was born to rule, but does that mean perpetuating the cycle of violence and cruelty that has existed since the dawn of time? Will assuming her power mean that Hera loses herself? Or can she find a way to forge a better world? Traditionally portrayed as a jealous wife, wicked stepmother, or victim-blaming tool of the patriarchy, Hera is here cast as a powerful queen: ruthless when needed, but also compassionate, strategic, and ambitious.

When I think of Greek mythology, I vividly remember some heroes and deities, but Hera is never one of them. In my mind, she always appears as a minor character in someone else's story. The decision to give the Queen of Mount Olympus her own narrative was ingenious, and this iteration is remarkably well executed. Having read Saint's Ariadne and Elektra, and Madeleine Miller's Circe and The Song of Achilles, I thought I knew was I was getting myself into. However, Saint channels the story of the most powerful female being of the Greek pantheon into a nuanced and remarkably introspective tale of feminism under the patriarchy, sexual abuse survivorship, and privilege with complex, evolving characters, all without coming across as pedantic nor preachy. It was a remarkable read with a quick pace and a bittersweet (yet fitting) ending: I mean, how else did I really expect the story of the Queen Goddess to end? In death? Hardly. I can't wait to see what she writes next. 

The Phoenix Keeper

The Phoenix Keeper

by S.A. MacLean

Orbit, 2024. 496 pages. Fantasy

As head phoenixkeeper at a world-renowned zoo for magical creatures, Aila's childhood dream of conserving critically endangered firebirds seems closer than ever. There's just one glaring caveat: her zoo's breeding program hasn't functioned for a decade. When a tragic heist sabotages the flagship initiative at a neighboring zoo, Aila must prove her derelict facilities are fit to take the reins. But saving a species from extinction will require help from the hotshot (and hot) griffinkeeper at the zoo's most popular exhibit, who happens to be her archrival from college. With the world watching and the threat of poachers looming, Aila's success is no longer merely a matter of keeping her job: the future of a species – and her love life – now rests on her shoulders.

This work struck just the right chord for me: funny and relatable characters, fantasy creatures amid a surprisingly pedestrian life with emails and DVDs, intrigue and suspense in trying to prevent a heist, and of course queer romance involving our female protagonist and characters of differing genders (although I still think she should have dumped that white man a bit earlier). MacLean has some very poignant messages about wildlife conservation and animal trafficking, entitlement and privilege, introversion and mental health. I also loved the bisexual and trans representation where it's just a part of life, no justification required. The LGBTQ+ elements are woven in naturally without being a slap in the face, which is the queer rep we deserve. Don't let the page count startle you; this character-focused book has a gentle (and intensifying) pace, but with a writing style engaging enough to keep the pages turning.

Wrong Answers Only

Wrong Answers Only

by Tobias Madden

Page Street YA, 2024. 384 pages. Realistic fiction

Marco should be at university studying biomedicine. Instead, he’s been sent to live on a cruise ship in the Mediterranean with his estranged uncle, all because of a ‘blip’ everyone else is convinced was a panic attack (which it most definitely was not.) Even though Marco’s trip is supposed to provide answers – about himself and his family – all he finds on board the Ocean Melody are more and more questions. But then his best friend CeCe proposes a new plan: for someone who has always done the right thing in every possible way, it’s time for Marco to get a few things wrong.

It's no secret that I love to go on cruises, so the premise that this book is largely set aboard a cruise ship seemed like a perfect match. However, there was a considerable amount of suspension of disbelief required, and perhaps Madden went a bridge too far for my taste: Hunter's decision to engage in a sexual relationship with someone who is essentially a passenger would definitely have gotten him fired, full stop. It's worth noting that this work definitely doesn't classify as a romance; it's more closely a bildungsroman, and it focuses on Marco's sense of self (including a realistic depiction of grappling with anxiety), as well as his family and friend relationships. Madden also sheds light on generational differences regarding views on homosexuality, which definitely rings true.

In Our Stars

In Our Stars

by Jack Campbell

Titan, 2024. 383 pages. Sci-Fi

Book #1 in the series "Doomed Earth"

Earth, 2180. Genetically engineered with partly alien DNA, Lieutenant Selene Genji is different from ordinary humans. And they hate her for it. Still, she’s spent her life trying to overcome prejudice by serving in the Unified Fleet while Earth’s international order collapses into war. Genji is stationed on a ship in orbit when factional extremism on the planet reaches a boiling point, and she witnesses the utter annihilation of Earth. When the massive forces unleashed by Earth’s death warp space and time to hurl her forty years into the past, Genji is given a chance to try to change the future and save Earth – starting with the alien first contact only she knows will soon occur. But altering history could put her very existence in danger.

Campbell has written a fast-paced story with likeable characters. The social commentary was veiled a bit thinly at times, but it didn't detract from the plot. To say it ends on a cliffhanger is an understatement: rather, it ends in the middle of the story, which is difficult because the sequel has not been released at the time of this review.

Spare

Spare

by Prince Harry, Duke of Sussex

Random House, 2023. 410 pages. Biography

Before losing his mother Princess Diana, Harry was the carefree Spare to the serious Heir. Grief changed everything: he struggled at school and in the spotlight. Military service gave him structure – as well as post-traumatic stress and crippling panic attacks. The world was swept away by his romance with Meghan and their fairy-tale wedding, but from the beginning, they were subjected to waves of abuse, racism, and lies. Their safety and mental health at risk, Harry saw no other way to prevent the tragedy of history repeating itself but to flee his mother country. For the first time, Harry tells his own story, chronicling his journey with raw, unflinching honesty.

I know I kinda missed the trend with this one; it was really big when it first came out, and then slipped into quiet obscurity. However, maybe it worked out okay to read this when I did, precisely because I could view it more objectively without the hubbub. I enjoyed learning the behind-the-scenes peek at the British Royal Family and their relationship with the press, and my heart broke to hear of how Harry and Meghan were treated. Harry speaks with candor and honesty, giving an honest and raw look at his life thus far. What this was missing was a true purpose: Harry doesn't seem to have a clear call to action or any goal for this work. Instead, it just seems to be him telling his story and what things were like for him. But I suppose that's fine, isn't it.

What You Are Looking For Is in the Library

What You Are Looking For Is in the Library

by Michiko Aoyama

Hanover Square, 2023. 304 pages. Realistic fiction

What are you looking for? This is the question routinely asked by Tokyo’s most enigmatic librarian, Sayuri Komachi. She has read every book lining her shelves – but she also has a unique ability: for anyone who walks through her door, Komachi can sense exactly what they’re looking for in life and provide just the book they never knew they needed to help them find it. Each visitor comes to her library from a different juncture in their careers and dreams, from the restless sales attendant who feels stuck at her job to the struggling working mother who longs to be a magazine editor. The conversation that they have with Sayuri Komachi – and the book she lends each of them – will have life-altering consequences.

I may have a personal connection to this story in particular, since I am a librarian by profession. This brief book was lovely to read, with five separate yet interconnected stories who find inspiration and clarity in the library. I love when we see glimpses of the author's culture shine through the translation, as they did in this work. I do wish Aoyama had introduced us to Komachi and let us get to know her in a way beyond just her physical appearance. With its simple, digestible writing style, this made for a heartwarming and uplifting read that underscore the importance of libraries and literature.