A few years ago I read Buck’s book, The Oregon Trail, in which he builds a covered wagon and travels across the country. Back again with a similar concept, this time he built (well, mostly he oversaw the construction of) a flatboat which he then sailed down the Mississippi. I doubt I’m the intended demographic for Buck’s writing, but I love his historical anecdotes, sardonic humor, and no-holds-barred musings on modern America. Along his journey, Buck hones his boating abilities, breaks a few ribs, and truly takes the time to speak with, listen to, and work alongside people who share wildly different views from himself. I found Buck’s writing to be a welcome break from a culture that feels increasingly shallow and fast-paced. Much like Buck’s journey down the Mississippi, his book is slow, meandering and thoroughly enjoyable.
What if you could travel back in time, but nothing you did in the past would change how things are in the present? Would you do it? Tucked away in a side alley somewhere in Japan is a basement cafe. If you sit in one particular chair (usually occupied by a ghost) and drink a specially brewed cup of coffee you can travel back in time, but you only get one chance and you have to come back to the present before your coffee gets cold. This charming novella follows the trajectories of several characters who would; whether it’s to have a few moments longer with a past lover, to see a dead relative, or simply to express something they’ve always regretted keeping to themselves. Charming, tragic, and beautifully unique, Before the Coffee Gets Cold is a heartwarming novel about fate, destiny, and the powerful bonds of love.
I’ll admit that horror is not my go-to genre, but “Disney princess by day, dive bar dweller by night” was too good a premise for me to pass up. Maeve is young, beautiful, and descended from Hollywood royalty, but she’s lonely and deeply unhappy. Haunted by her past and unwilling to accept the future, she tries her hardest to maintain the status quo. But then Gideon enters her life, and Maeve’s carefully regimented routines start to spiral out of control. Leede doesn’t hold back on the bloodshed, but the gore here is more than just spectacle. While horror as a genre is often prone to stereotypes and tropes that leave it feeling shallow or gimmicky, Leede draws characters with such depth and pure humanness that you can’t help but root for them. Dark, visceral, and unapologetically violent Maeve Fly is not for the faint of heart. I loved it, but maybe don’t give this one to your mom.
When Ryland Grace wakes up from what turns out to be a years long, medically induced coma he doesn’t know where he is, why he’s there, or the identities of the two dead bodies with him. As his memories come back to him in flashes, he pieces the facts together: the sun is dying and he’s been sent on a last ditch mission to save Earth. But why send a jr. high school science teacher? Weir utilizes his background as a computer programmer to imbue technical details into his writing, making for a more realistic take on space travel. Accurate mathematics aside, Project Hail Mary is above all a story about love, sacrifice, and the unshakable fortitude of humankind. I absolutely loved this book, it made me laugh, brought tears to my eyes and gave me a whole new appreciation for sci-fi as a genre.
When journalist Camille Preaker returns to her tiny hometown to report on a local murder, deep-rooted family issues and an overwhelming sense of claustrophobia quickly take hold. I love a good mystery, and Flynn’s character-driven, deeply atmospheric writing immediately drew me in. Suspenseful, original, and subtlety sinister, this kept me guessing until the very end.
Bryson brings his signature wit and charm to his latest book: a look at the human body. Comprehensive yet very accessible, The Body is a truly fascinating read. I was blown away by the many incredible feats our bodies are capable of, and perhaps even more amazed by how much we still don’t understand about the vessels we occupy.
Charming, intelligent, and emotionally adrift, Casey does her best to navigate life on the other side of 30. An aspiring novelist by day and a waitress by night, she grapples with the recent death of her mother, suffocating student debt, and a tricky love triangle. King’s writing is raw and intimate and her characters beautifully drawn. I came to feel a deep connection to Casey as I read, laughing and crying along with her. I loved this book so much that I tore through it at lightning speed and was then immediately devastated that it was over.
Chanel Miller doesn’t remember being sexually assaulted by Brock Turner because she was unconscious at the time. She does, however, remember all that ensued in the aftermath and in Know My Name she recounts every eviscerating detail. Miller’s story is deeply personal, but it is not unique. She writes beautifully and courageously about the ugly processes that follow her assault: medical exams, trials, therapy, and the struggle she faces to simply get through each day. Constantly barraged with the repercussions of her assault, Miller is unable to forget an event she doesn’t even remember. In revealing her identity—she was previously referred to simply as “Emily Doe”—Miller owns her narrative and proves that victimhood does not make a person powerless.
Like many of us, Lindy West loves pointing out plot holes and picking movies apart almost as much as she loves watching them. Unlike many of us, West used to be a professional film critic, lending merit to her commentary. Each chapter focuses on a different classic and often beloved film, summarizing the plot while also pointing out everything that’s wrong with it. This might sound like a bit of a negative premise, but it’s all in good fun and West makes some truly hilarious observations. The book isn’t groundbreaking but it will make you laugh A LOT.
In January 1969, Harvard graduate student Jane Britton was found murdered in her apartment. Despite several leads, the case was still unsolved when Becky Cooper happened upon it 50 years later. Though she had no training or special connections to speak of, Cooper dedicated the next decade of her life to finding Britton’s killer. Extraordinarily well researched and thoughtfully told, this book has all the thrill and suspense that characterize true crime while managing to steer clear of the sensationalism and insensitivity that often cheapen the genre.
Much has been written about the destruction of Pompeii, the “discovery” of Angkor; but what of those cities in their prime? What about the people who lived there? Newitz spent years traveling the world, researching, excavating, and speaking with experts in order to glean a deeper understanding of ancient cities and the lives of their citizens. Educational and engaging, Four Lost Cities is both an enjoyable history lesson and a call to take care of the cities of today, before they too fall into ruin.
Eerie and imbued with a sense of melancholy, Bliss Montage is anything but. The eight stories here focus on themes of nostalgia, abuse, agency, and relationships. Ma’s writing conjures worlds that are like ours, but not, parallel universes where yetis live amongst us and recreational drugs can make you temporarily invisible. Ma’s stories left me feeling strange, and a little bit squeamish. Great recommendation for fans of Ottessa Moshfegh.
Like many 90’s kids, I was obsessed with dinosaurs. I loved The Land Before Time and took pride in my many accumulated dino-facts. While my passion for prehistoric animals is mostly a thing of the past, I was drawn to this book after reading and enjoying the author’s previous work, The Rise and Fall of the Dinosaurs. I learned so much from this book and kept pestering my boyfriend with mammal facts (did you know bats are the only flying mammals, ever??!!). Brusatte’s writing is intelligent and unpretentious and imbues a freshness into a field that often comes across as stuffy and archaic. I think it's fair to compare this The Dawn of Everything but instead of focusing only on humans, it’s about all of Mammal-kind.
In this thrilling, brilliantly crafted tale of shipwreck, mutiny, and deceit, David Grann recounts the 1742 voyage of the Wager. Doomed from the very start—with a ragtag, ill-prepared crew and an inexperienced captain—the Wager was destined for disaster. Grann deftly describes the horrendous suffering the ship’s crew endured and chronicles the incredible, sometimes horrifying, lengths that they went to to return home. I’ve long considered David Grann one of the greatest narrative nonfiction writers alive, and this book only cements that further.
