Kingsolver Always Delivers

“Most every book I bring into the world is like birthing a baby; it's a lot of effort!”
— Barbara Kingsolver

I have birthed five babies, so I do not take our girl Barb’s admission lightly. Of course, Demon Copperhead is my favorite of her babies. I recently recommended Demon to my oh-so literate handyman and he’s already texted to say he absolutely loved it. How can anyone resist the poor Appalachian boy who’s plenty witty and strikingly real? Man, I miss that kid. 

But I ask you, is there a bad little darling among Kingsolver’s bunch? I had high expectations for the Pulitzer Prize winner’s latest despite mixed reviews. For me, she did not disappoint. Partita is a resonant, slow-burn symphony of a novel about Livia Cable, a Tennessee piano teacher whose quiet farm life gets completely upended when Sigurd, her unforgettable first love, calls out of the blue after more than 30 years.  Livia is forced to confront long-buried secrets—she revisits the passionate 1989 conservatory romance that changed her life forever. 

With Barb's signature warmth and lyricism, the story celebrates how the transcendent magic of classical music and the quiet beauty of art and nature can stitch a broken heart back together, proving it is never too late to find your true harmony. I pray, despite laborious efforts, this virtuoso author keeps birthing more of these babies.  

Posted by Tracy

I Am Woman

My mental gears are jammed. I suppose they have been for a long time. Or I would have honored our beloved Rachel Remen back in August when she peacefully passed after a long struggle with breast cancer. The wise oncologist gave us Kitchen Table Wisdom and My Grandfather’s Blessings—two staples that will ground even those who are light in the emotional toolkit. Thankfully, her insights will live on. It’s hard to lose a strong, formidable, progressive woman. Fortunately, the light of a pioneering woman never fades. If you don’t believe me, just ask Ariel Lawhon. 

Lawhon and I became fast imaginary friends when I read Frozen River earlier this year. It didn’t take long to realize that the critically acclaimed author knows how to combine meticulous primary research with a clever, gripping narrative. I expected her to flex again in her new release The Pirate Queen. Lawhon’s latest historical fiction spotlights Grace O’Malley, a “fearless leader by land and by sea, political pragmatist and tactician, rebel, pirate, and matriarch; the most notorious woman in all the coasts of Ireland.” A force to be reckoned with, Grace rose to power and later infamy by leading clans and taking over her family’s shipping and trade empire—domains dominated by men in the 16th century. This narrative follows the epic life of the unlikely yet formidable seafarer who directly challenged the English monarchy. Of course, fascinating lives make for fascinating stories. And this one did not disappoint. 

Be warned: because this book is about sailors, there’s plenty of salty, sometimes abrasive language.

Posted by Tracy

Metrics Be Damned

“Hello. My name is Norma. I am an English major and a literary snob. If there were such groups as Literary Snobs Anonymous, I would stand before their podium addressing my captured audience saying those exact words to my fellow literary snobs.” —Norma Best Boucher

Let me begin by saying as far as English majors go, Norma is standard fare. The whole lot of us are literary snobs. Don’t believe me? Round up 10 English majors over the age of 40 and ask if any of them have read the Twilight series. Odds are, the metrics will be disastrously bad. Stephenie Meyer achieved massive global literary success—I respect that. But I haven’t cracked the spine on one of her books. To be honest, I don’t read romance novels. I don’t have a taste for them in the same way sushi just isn’t for me. My well-read niece mentioned Colleen Hoover’s name a few years back; I didn’t have a clue. (She’s only the biggest and best-selling romance writer, who knew?) Imagine my surprise when I recently found myself in the middle of a romance novel. 

For my birthday, one of my dear friends gave me This Book Made Me Think of You. When I read that it’s “a love letter to reading, bookstores, and the power of shared stories,” I dove right in. I met Tilly Nightingale, a young widow. I liked her from the start. The book’s premise was even more likeable: Tilly receives a phone call from a London bookshop owner who explains that her late husband, Joe, has left a posthumous birthday gift for her at the shop. With the owner Alphie’s help, Joe leaves Tilly twelve carefully curated books—to be picked up each month for a year. Books take her places, literally and figuratively, to help her navigate life without Joe. 

Could I predict the book’s ending? Of course. But props to Libby Page for not giving way to oversentimentality. Her book is warm and funny. With plenty of book recommendations too! Despite the whole book snobbery admission, I enjoyed This Book Made Me Think of You. In the words of Adriana Trigiani, this is “the feel-good novel of the year.” 

Posted by Tracy

Ode to Ann

“His office was buried in books and I wanted to read all of them. I wanted to sit in a chair with every book he’d ever sat with, think about him thinking through all those sentences and pages and chapters. Here was his heart: in these books. He had loved them and so I would love them.”

This is how I feel about every book Ann Patchett champions. And definitely every book she writes. These past few months alone, she’s led me to John of John, The Left and the Lucky, Small Things like These, and Things in Nature Merely Grow. She loved them and so I knew I would love them. And love them, I did.

But none have I loved as much as her latest, Whistler. Reader, it may be my favorite Ann Patchett to date. Recency bias? I don’t think so. You see, this summer I’ve been trying to strengthen my hope muscles in an effort to reorient my spirit. A night singing at the top of my lungs, along with Noah Kahan and 50,000 fellow hope-seekers, my kids among them, healed something in my fractured heart. As has the return of the most hopeful character on the tele, Ted Lasso. And Anne’s Whistler? It kicked off my summer search for the silver linings girl I’ve always been and knew was still there, deep down. Ann once said that she “wants to write stories about good people who are kind to each other.” With Whistler, she’s done just that, and in turn, quietly buoyed this girl’s hope in humanity.

There’s so much to love about this beautiful book that it’s hard to know what to highlight. For me, though, I think Tracy’s way of ranking books by how much we miss the friends we make in them reveals what I love most: Daphne and Eddie. Their relationship (both the brief moment in time they shared in the past and when they find each other again) is what makes this novel sing. It’s a monument to the impact we can have on one another, no matter how long or short the encounter. It’s also a gentle reminder that we’re all just making our way the best we can, that none of us truly have it all figured out, so let’s try to be good to each other.

PS. If you’re a listener, Ann’s narration is perfection. I mean, what’s better than the lovely Ann Patchett in your ear, spinning the loveliest tale? One friend told me she’s been listening on repeat, just for the hope of it all.

Posted by Rachel

More Light to Read By

“One benefit of Summer was that each day we had more light to read by.” – Jeannette Walls

I’m a fan of all four seasons. If I had to hit pause on one, in hopes of drawing it out a bit longer, summer would likely be it. Although being a New England girl means fall is irresistible. And one magical snowfall transforms the world you go to bed in—to a different, more enchanted place you wake up in. Plus, there’s no denying when nature resumes her loveliness in Spring, I revive. Every single time. All this to say, I guess I’m a bit sad that my unforgettable summer has flown by. 

Four seasons aside, I’m rarely of the mindset “out with the old, in with the new.” Case in point—this humanities lover feels pretty giddy that Homer’s epic poem has been propelled back into the cultural mainstream, across the globe. After 2,800 years, people are hunkering down to read The Odyssey. How awesome is that? I couldn’t help but chuckle at one journalist’s quip: “Christopher Nolan and Matt Damon got people to do what teachers never could.” Bravo, boys. Bravo! I suspect I’m not alone here; surely Patmeena Sabit is reveling in the revival too. 

Sabit’s debut novel Good People is famously structured like a modern Greek tragedy. Readers are introduced documentary-style to a “chorus” of nearly 60 community narrators. Dozens of eyewitnesses weigh in on the Sharaf family. A mosaic of neighbors, reporters, teachers, friends, and relatives dissect an Afghan family’s tragedy. The talking heads pique curiosity, provide intrigue, and master pace. Before you say goodbye to summer, pick up “the year’s first great novel”—I’m glad I did. The hours I spent in Patmeena Sabit’s well-crafted world stretched time for me during the sunny season. Thank heavens for more light to read by. 

P.S. If you need more incentive, here’s what our girl Ann Patchett had to say: “A thrilling tour de force of a novel. I’ll be recommending this book to everyone.”

Freeze Frame

"Books have a unique way of stopping time in a particular moment and saying: Let’s not forget this.” —David Eggers

I hate to admit I’ve never read anything by Patrick Radden Keefe before now. Of course, Rachel, who’s always one step ahead of me, praised his page-turner Empire of Pain back in 2022. So, when Rae wrapped up London Falling for my birthday, I dug into the investigative journalist’s latest. Keefe found a unique way of stopping time in contemporary London. The focus of his investigation? The tragic death of 19-year-old Zac Brettler whose body washed up in the River Thames on the morning of November 29, 2019.

London Falling was an eye-opening read. I was stunned to learn how a money-obsessed teenager could fabricate an entirely new identity as the son of a wealthy Russian oligarch just to infiltrate London’s elite circles. Thanks to his innate storytelling abilities and charisma, Zac formed bonds with a shady businessman and a notorious gangster. Ultimately, the British teen unwittingly got caught in the undertow of a criminal netherworld—and a terrifying mystery was born. London Falling is “a meticulously researched propulsive thriller. With empathetic insight, Keefe deftly sifts through facts and fictions to distill Zac’s young life, enthrallingly seeking the unknowable truth of this tragic death.” In this latest bestseller, Keefe essentially tells readers let’s not forget this. 

Posted by Tracy

When Tracy Met Sally

"What really knocks me out is a book that, when you're all done reading it, you wish the author that wrote it was a terrific friend of yours and you could call him [or her] up on the phone whenever you felt like it." –J.D. Salinger

What really knocks me out is a book named Whistler. I turned the last impactful page of Patchett’s latest almost a month ago and I’m still thinking about it. I wish Ann was a terrific friend of mine. I wish I could call her up whenever I felt like it. In the spirit of Sybil Van Antwerp, I’d even settle for writing letters. I’d gush; I just know I would. Or maybe I’d simply pen this: Thank you for being a fixed point in a spinning world—you are such a north star. 

Rachel’s ode to Ann’s latest is coming. In the meantime, let me tell you about running into Sally Hepworth. Even though Sally has written bestseller after bestseller, I’ve never before read one of her domestic thrillers. I have Audible to thank for our chance meeting. An automated algorithm introduced me to the Australian sensation, and after listening to Mad Mabel for four plus minutes, I wanted to hear more. It’s no secret that we’re drawn to grouchy souls around here. We love us a curmudgeon, especially pseudo-salty ones. I fell in love with prickly Elsie Mabel Fitzpatrick, who reminded me of Gladys Kravitz—a hilariously, albeit more grumpy, nosy neighbor to the residents of Kenny Lane. At 81, she has plenty of time for snooping and scoffing. Elsie’s grown adept at keeping a running catalog of her neighbors’ infractions, even (or especially) the minor ones. When she discovers her least favorite neighbor’s dead body, the life she’s tried to carefully reconstruct begins to unravel. Her sad and unlucky past is hot on her dry, hardened heels. 

There’s so much more to this spiky octogenarian than meets the eye. Mabel, a.k.a. Elsie, quickly wormed her way into my heart. Odds are, she’ll do the same to you. Here’s what our girl Jane Harper had to say about her fellow Aussie’s latest: “[A] twisty page-turning triumph, packed with wit, warmth, nuance and mystery. Brilliant.” If only I could give Sally a call to tell her I miss Mabel already.

Posted by Tracy

Silver Lining Playbooks

A year without books is like a year without spring. —me, myself, and I. 

We’re more than halfway through a year that has brought with it some amazing reads. Can you tell I’m focusing on the positive? Yes, I know 2026 has resulted in a highly volatile war (what is it good for?) and other harrowing issues, including a compounding economic crisis. But I have managed to find a silver lining in new books that have felt like rare gems. You’ll be happy to hear AI agrees with me. And I quote: “The literary landscape has been absolutely packed with stellar releases recently. From breathtaking literary fiction to pulse-pounding thrillers, the momentum has been unreal.” High-five, AI! I couldn’t agree more; in fact, that seems like anything but artificial to me. 

It should not surprise anyone who reads our reviews with regularity that we L-O-V-E Maggie O’Farrell. She is very, very extraordinary. We love her more than anyone she adores can love.  And why wouldn’t we? We’re English majors after all, and this woman is celebrated, rightfully so, as one of the greatest contemporary storytellers. Last month, my sister and I flew home together from Connecticut. She asked if she should watch Hamnet, not knowing anything about the storyline. “Absolutely” was my response. Tears filled her eyes at one point—that’s when she said, “This is killing me.” From the seat next to her, looking over her shoulder, I had to hold back my own tears. Mags doesn’t shy away from heartache, trauma, or grief. Instead, the inspired writer provides unique insights. She offers us emotional and literary depth but manages to harness pace and capture mystery. Very few authors can check all those boxes. I swear, she makes it look easy. 

Mags is a brilliant historical novelist. Her latest setting revolves around an Gorta Mor, meaning the Great Hunger—a period of mass starvation and disease in Ireland from 1845 to 1852, triggered by a potato blight that destroyed successive crop yields. (It’s sobering to admit I had no idea that roughly a million people died because of the Great Famine.) Land was inspired by O’Farrell’s great-great-grandfather, who was an Irish mapmaker, and so the story follows a mapmaker and his family whom the British hire to survey the land. What they and none of us can really know is how much the land holds—generational stories (many of them sad), secrets, history, even mystical stuff. If you’re a Maggie O’Farrell fan, you’ll enjoy this exploration of “memory, loss, and the art of witnessing.” Since I am a big fan, I can say way to add to the breathtaking literary landscape in 2026!

Posted by Tracy