The Subtle Pleasures of Indiscretion by Alexander McCall Smith (Literary Fiction)

Hard to believe, but this is book 16 of my favorite McCall Smith series based on Isabel Dalhousie. Isabel is a philosopher who is editor (and now owner) of the Review of Applied Ethics, and each novel sees her living her life in Edinburgh, doing her job, contemplating moral issues in the world around her (which I admit is my number one hobby) and solving problems that people seem to bring to her.

This book opens with a delightful exchange on biting and socialization (the biter being Isabel’s younger son, Magnus). What follows delves into plot elements to do with surprising DNA results, the occult, and some nasty (and typical?) academic jockeying. But on the way — and this is the best part of these books — there are thoughts and discussions on the difference between treating people with decency vs respect, censorship, the temporary beauty of making music, how to define a “real” man by a definition of masculinity, how to really define selfishness, John Rawls theory of justice (look it up — it’s simple and fascinating), etc. I’ll include a few quotes, but suffice it to say that I enjoy the depth of moral discussion which the author keeps complex but also accessible. I have no appetite for dry philosophy journals, but morality is a subject that everyone has the capacity to consider, but which needs to go beyond the shallow slogans that permeate our current political life.

Every one of these books is a treat for me.

Some quotes:
“Making music was so much of an effort, and when you get to the final bar, it all fadd away; silence had been temporarily replaced by something beautiful and harmonious, but only for a few precious minutes. That was all that art did. For a moment, it made beautiful the space it occupied, giving a vision of something sublime, something that made sense. But then we turned away, and we had to start all over again.”

“We all have to do what we can, every single day, to ensure that the faults in our character do not derail our attempts to improve — to become more morally aware. It was exhausting, and so she sighed, and wondered whether she should stop thinking about it. Did we really have to expend so much energy on the development of our moral character? We could never be perfect. It was legitimate, surely to look after our own interests and the interests of those who were closest to us —family and friends most of all. That meant that there were limits to what we could do for others — and limits, too, to how much time we could spend on personal moral improvement. We cannot all be saints.”

“She thought of beauty, and the part that it played in our lives. We sought it out, whether or not we were aware of what we were doing. We looked for it in things, in people, in places, because beauty was something that was resolved and complete. And yet beauty itself was never enough: If you loved others for their beauty alone, then you were destined for disappointment. Beauty was no more than an invitation to contemplate something that lay before one: resolution, harmony, peace — there were many desiderata that beauty might promise, but not provide.”

Thank you to Pantheon and NetGalley for providing an advance copy of this book in exchange for my honest review. The book will be published on July 21st, 2026.

The Wedding People by Alison Espach


When life gets to be too much — the last IVF failed, her husband left her for another woman, and her beloved cat has died — Phoebe decides to go off to a luxury hotel, armed with her cat’s painkillers, and end her life. However, the hotel is hosting an over-the-top wedding and the bride refuses to let her big day get spoiled with a suicide! Phoebe is sucked into the wedding celebrations and emerges on the other side with a brand new attitude towards life.

This book is well-written and FUNNY. While there are obviously some depressing bits (see aforementioned suicide triggers), Phoebe is intelligent and wry and seems to be able to engage with the best in people. The situation is not too realistic, but the lessons learned are. This is a fun book — funny, insightful, and completely uplifting. I read this in a day and a half and felt happy the whole time. This isn’t news, but the quality of the writing has a huge impact on whether or not I like a book, and this one is a couple cuts above your average rom-com. Makes all the difference.

I hadn’t heard of Espach before, but I’m adding her to my feel-good / rom-com list.

Pale Fire by Vladimir Nabakov (Literary Fiction)

After plowing through this book, reading some online explanations, and having a discussion with other literary fans, I can honestly say that I think this is a masterpiece of literature but not terribly fun to read. The book comprises an introduction, a 999 line poem, and a (very) lengthy, almost line-by-line commentary about the poem.

The poem is written by John Shade, while the introduction and commentary is written by the character Kinbote. Kinbote is the epitome of an unreliable narrator, but that’s OK because what narrative there is is buried in fits and starts within the commentary. While it may seem like “cheating,” I did read a couple of summaries that helped me frame the basic premise my structure craving brain required to make any headway. I won’t include anything here in case you are a firm non-peeker, but know that it can help. Suffice it to say that nothing is what it seems, and the hints to what might be reality are all included but told through the perspective of a madman and only dribbled out in disjoint segments. And yet, it is beautifully done. The writing is incredible (see some quotes below) and the vocabulary … I love words and have (I think) a pretty good vocabulary but the non-native speaker Nabokov blew me away. Just a few of the new (to me) words: Orbicle, Nacreous, Quiddity, Bimanist, stillicide, Ephebe, Pudibundity, Maculation, Architectonically, Trochee, Goetic, Contrapuntal, Perlustration, Selenographer, Versipel, Ament. Life is so much easier when you can look them up on your phone without getting out of the chair!

If you appreciate intricate, highly complex book structure, love beautiful language, and understand that the plot isn’t always the point, this is the book for you!

Quotes:

Alas, my peace of mind was soon to be shattered. The thick venom of envy began squirting at me as soon as academic suburbia realized that John Shade valued my society above that of all other people.

His misshapen body, that gray mop of abundant hair, the yellow nails of his pudgy fingers, the bags under his lusterless eyes, were only intelligible if regarded as the waste products eliminated from his intrinsic self by the same forces of perfection which purified and chiseled his verse. He was his own cancellation.

Nevertheless the urge to find out what he was doing with all the live, glamorous, palpitating, shimmering material I had lavished upon him, the itching desire to see him at work (even if the fruit of his work was denied me), proved to be utterly agonizing and uncontrollable and led me to indulge in an orgy of spying which no considerations of pride could stop.

I notice a whiff of Swift in some of my notes. I too am a desponder in my nature, an uneasy, peevish, and suspicious man, although I have my moments of volatility and fou rire.

And moreover [he said] we, whites, are not white at all, we are mauve at birth, then tea-rose, and later all kinds of repulsive colors.

All the seven deadly sins are peccadilloes but without three of them, Pride, Lust and Sloth, poetry might never have been born.

And let me add here how much I was honored a fortnight later to meet in Washington that limp-looking, absent-minded, shabbily dressed splendid American gentleman whose mind was a library and not a debating hall.

Resemblances are the shadows of differences. Different people see different similarities and similar differences.

Taipei Story by RF Kuang (Literary Fiction)

College freshman Lily Chen heads to Taipei for a summer Chinese language intensive. Having only retained the Chinese she spoke before leaving the mainland for California when she was four, she hopes to both improve her skills and get closer to the heritage that never really felt like hers. It’s a grueling and isolating experience — and when her grandfather dies in Guangzhou and she is unable to attend because she hadn’t procured a mainland visa, she achieves a whole new level of reflection about what heritage and culture really mean to the emigre.

What could be a straightforward coming-of-age story becomes something else completely in the hands of the stunningly talented Kuang who layers meticulously detailed observations with deep and evolving reflection and multi-dimensional insights. We learn about Chinese culture, politics, and history from the subjective viewpoint of our shy, thoughtful, possibly overly analytic young woman. Following her train of thought is half the fun of taking in all that she learns from the experience — all coalescing into the gestalt that is an individual.

The story spans personal experiences (some so honest as to be cringeworthy for me) as well as uncovering some fairly horrific stories from her Chinese ancestors (think Khmer Rouge) — stories nobody had ever told before. What parts of history do you integrate and what parts better left alone? I also loved the focus on linguistics — obviously an intense interest of the author. She goes into just the right amount of detail about how language affects our thinking, how difficult it is to communicate anything even slightly complex without the grammar, vocabulary, and structure available to native speakers, and how she worked to reprogram her brain to be able to speak and read more or less seamlessly.

This is billed as a novel but it felt like an incredibly well-written memoir to me. In any case, I enjoyed every minute of it!

Thank you to William Morrow and NetGalley for providing an advance copy of this book in exchange for my honest review. The book will be published on September 8th, 2026.

Some People by Parini Shroff (Literary / Multicultural Fiction)

Loved this book. Nathan — a crusty, hyper rational type with “minimal emotional amplitude” — is called to the bedside of Malta, his soon-to-be-ex mother-in-law (no love lost there!) when a bad fall lands her in the hospital. While neither is particularly happy with the new arrangement, Nathan has committed to moving in to help until Malta can care for herself as Kavya, Malta’s daughter (and Nathan’s soon-to-be ex-wife) is in India on a two year study program.

What follows is humorous, insightful, and almost like an unraveling mystery — but the kind of mystery based on the more difficult question of how to really understand another person (dead bodies are easier to deal with!). While untangling the relationships is the primary theme, I also enjoyed the constant cross-cultural commentary. Malti is outspoken and somewhat acerbic as she expresses her (usually negative) judgement of others. A common refrain at the end of several conversations is “Some People…” I found myself (of course) judging each of them as they worked through their mutual misunderstanding and was quite surprised by some of the perceptions. As an example, Nathan is great at fixing things and wants to fix the (many, many) broken things around Malta’s house. But Malta tells him that she takes this as an implicit criticism of her and the way she lives. To me that is crazy, but how interesting that someone could actually feel that way! Plenty more of that kind of perception war in the pages.

The writing is expressive, with clear descriptions of abstractions that aren’t always easy to articulate. I ended up appreciating and understanding all three of the characters, though it is very clear (to me) which I could be long term friends with.

Thank you to Ballantine Books and NetGalley for providing an advance copy of this book in exchange for my honest review. The book will be published on July 7th, 2026.

Lightbreakers by Aja Gabel

Writing: 4/5 Plot: 5/5 Characters: 4/5

This was a wild ride — adventurous (plenty of plot), insightful, and deep dives into broad domains of art, physics, and relationships. Noah, a quantum physicist, is enticed into a top secret, billionaire funded project that explores the nature of time, memory, and consciousness in an intriguing, and quite personal, way. His wife Maya, a Tokyo-born, biracial artist, joins him hoping to explore the vibrant, though isolated, art scene in Marfa, Texas (look it up — the art scene is real!). Noah has never fully recovered from the death of his three-year old child and the ensuing collapse of his previous marriage, and he hopes that this project will somehow allow him to reconnect with a past that he can’t quite escape.

I was particularly drawn to how a single book could so thoroughly explore topics (time, memory, and consciousness) from two so dissimilar perspectives and manage to create a synergy between them. The physics explanations were far more plausible than I expected and the artistic dives were far more interesting (to me — a non artist) than I expected. I liked the characters, found the philosophical scrutiny well-paced and satisfyingly twisted, and the commentary on the motivations, approaches to problems, and subjective experiences of the three main characters (the physicist, his wife, and his ex-wife) fascinating.

The author also wrote The Ensemble — a novel about a young string quartet navigating the complex and somewhat cutthroat world of classical music performance. I loved that book as well. I’m impressed by the way this author is able to bring these very different worlds (classical music performance, modern art, quantum physics) to life in a way that allows the reader to inhabit a world in which they have no real expertise through the eyes of a character who actually does.

The Things We Never Say by Elizabeth Strout (Literary Fiction)

Writing: 5/5 Characters: 5/5 Plot: 4/5

I was instantly hooked by the epigraph: Loneliness does not come from having no people about one, but from being unable to communicate the things that seem important to oneself, or from holding certain views which others find inadmissible. — Carl Jung

This was the beautifully written, deeply reflective story of Artie Dam — a high school history teacher who spends time considering free will, loneliness, and whether or not anybody can really know anybody else. He watches his own mind a lot — I like that concept. He has been married 34 years, has a grown son who has become more distant, and a deep love for his students who he fears, based on the last election, he is sending out into an unsafe world.

I love the way the author (who is one of my favorites) paints a scene from multiple points of views. We spend a lot of time in Artie’s head, but we also get snapshots of what each of the people in his life think about him simultaneously and why. The elucidation of how we perceive the people around us, how they perceive us, and how we manage to make a connection to them despite this variance is brilliant. I also loved the fluid way Artie reflects on his life — memories precipitated by small events and interactions and the larger social shifting in reaction to the big events — Covid, the 2024 election, and the (ever changing) perceptions of right and wrong.

Political angst is a big piece of the context for Artie and several other key characters. Semi-oblique references to orange hair, cancelled government contracts, ICE “Nazis”, and general loathing for certain personages (you know who they are!) are tossed out without too much discussion. I found this interesting not because I agree or disagree with the view, but because of how having these feelings — justified or not — deeply impacted the characters. I appreciated that the author did include other characters — presented as reasonable and good people — who held either opposing views (they voted for Trump!) or who were simply content to wait and see what actually happened, rather than get too intensely worked up about it. What I loved about this book was that in spite of the angst — both internally and externally induced — the novel was primarily about personal insight and the way that we can have a positive impact on others and work to achieve the contentment and connection that we want. I found this book ultimately uplifting.

Quotes:
“She was unaware — even after their thirty-four years of married life — of the deep pockets of sensitivity that Artie had. And why did she not know? Because she herself did not have those particular sensitivities — and like almost everyone else on this Earth her imagination could not take her fully to another place, even with her husband.”

“So blind we humans are — so blind. To each other and to ourselves, moving through life as though through shadows, putting out a hand in the dark and thinking we have touched someone. And maybe we have, as Artie did with Rhonda Lazarre that day. But mostly we travel through life unsighted, grasping only the smallest details of one another’s selves, including our own. Thinking all the while that we can see.”

“And then she leaned her head against his shoulder, and this is what stabbed Artie now, their innocence, and how badly he wanted — as that elderly woman had — to lean his head against a loving person, to be innocent and incorruptible.”

“And now he knew why. Because to say anything real was to say things that nobody wanted to know. Or if they wanted to know, they would not care in the right way. Or even understand. It was a private thing, to be alive. He understood this now.”

“As he walked slowly up to the bedroom, he thought that now, after all these years, he was finally becoming a grownup. What did he mean by that? That he was finally beginning to understand the multitudinous aspect of people. He was amazed by it, really, now that he thought about it. In his study of history, he had learned about the leaders, and the various groups involved, but he had some how missed this fact about every single person: that they held within themselves a vast, unknowable universe. And he understood that it could make a person lonely; people had to take and give to one another whatever they could. If it was not enough … Well, then it meant one just had to be a grownup.”

Thank you to Random House and NetGalley for providing an advance copy of this book in exchange for my honest review. The book will be published on May 5th, 2026.

Crown City by Naomi Hirahara (Historical Mystery)

Writing: 5/5 Characters: 4/5 Plot: 3.5/5

It’s 1903 and 18-year old Ryunosuke Wada — a novice carpenter — has made his way from Yokohama, Japan to Pasadena, CA alone after the sudden death of his Master Carpenter father. While there, a number of mysteries come his way — a missing painting, a dead body, a possible attempted murder, some anti-Japanese threats — that he tackles with his older Japanese roommate, “Jack.” These are resolved successfully and in a satisfyingly complex way, but for me the novel is really the story of the very observant and continually reflective “Ryui” as he becomes both an adult and an “American.”

The author’s prose is precise, contemplative, and acutely descriptive, exploring cultural practices and clashes, historical settings, and routine practices of living and working at the time. The lovingly detailed rendering of the Master Carpenter’s process for hand crafting beautiful objects and buildings, spanning architectural thought to wood selection to the final transformations was beautifully done — drawing me in despite my initial lack of interest in the subject. The characters had depth and conflicts were clarified from multiple perspectives. I felt as though I gained some real understanding of the time and place in which the story occurred.

I listened to the audio book and thought the narrator did an excellent job of imbuing the story with a relatable voice. This is a new author for me and she is going right onto my list. Crown City is “book 3” of the “Japantown Mysteries.” I have no idea how this volume fits into the first two, but if they are written with the same level of character and cultural insight, I’ll be happy to find out!

Grace and Henry’s Holiday Movie Marathon by Matthew Norman (Literary Fiction)

Grace and Henry have been “mommed” — brought together by their well-meaning mothers over a ridiculously fabricated wifi problem to see if they could help each other out. Grace’s husband died after a long battle with cancer; Henry’s wife died in a private plane crash that also took out most of the senior leadership of the company for which they both worked. Neither is anywhere close to being ready to “move on,” but thanks to the intervention, they do find some comfort in having a friend who understands what they are going through.
This book is about grief and holding it together against all odds and yet … I found myself laughing out loud on every page. It takes real authorial talent to focus on the depth and complexity of trauma induced emotion while simultaneously seeing the wry humor available to the reflective soul during nearly any aspect of life. I loved the characters — Henry and Grace, but also Grace’s son — the sensitive, artistic, emotionally intuitive boy-child Ian; their family dog Harry Styles, purchased on the way home from her husband’s funeral, Grace’s emotional support ghost (aka her dead husband), and the various friends and family who surround them with infusions of the kind of quirky love that only the collection of misfits we call ours can provid

I loved the writing — the wry humor, the stellar dialog, the poignant shifting of perspective between a future focus and the firm grip maintained on rapidly elusive memories. It made me think about how we consider our priorities — how often do we seek excitement over contentment or adrenaline rushes over dwelling in beauty? How often do we discount the importance of human connection over career advancement or external recognition?

I’ve read all of Matthew Norman’s books and don’t know how I missed this one which just came out last November. He writes families and individuals with humor and depth — one of the few male writers I’m aware of who can write about these topics in a way that resonates with me.

Some great quotes:
Parenting in times of crisis, I’m learning, is a delicate balance between fiction, nonfiction, and pure fantasy, like when Bella asked if we could call her dad in heaven, and I told her they don’t have cell towers there.

Watching this guy drink a beer is like watching someone test something for poison. He sips, looks with trepidation into his glass, awaits death.

Unfortunately, the rest of my apartment looks like it’s set in a dystopian future where humans no longer care about home décor because we’ve been enslaved by robots.

Plus, she probably isn’t even awake. It’s 7:47 p.m., and she said she’s been tired for eleven years.

… And I’ve combined them with my favorite lounging sweater. Last time I wore it home, my mom said she didn’t know Goodwill had a section specifically for shut-ins.

Last One Out by Jane Harper (Literary Mystery)

Writing: 5/5 Plot: 3.5/5 Characters: 4/5

A small rural community in New South Wales. A long-term, tight knit community slowly dwindling with the expansions of a mining company installed at its borders. Noise, dust, and buyouts gutting it out from within. Those who choose to leave coming up against those who choose to stay. Five years ago, Sam went missing on his 21st birthday and there is still no trace. This year, on the anniversary of his disappearance, his now separated parents and the remnants of a once vibrant town, get together for a now annual memorial. Guilt, anguish, anger, and regret tug at them all, and none of them want to talk about it.

Harper is a master at bringing a place and the psychic energy of those who inhabit it to life. While this book does have a central mystery, and the mystery is — eventually — solved, the emphasis is far more on the grief and personal reflection associated with the tragedy and the simultaneous unwinding of a community. I found it illuminating, but also quite depressing. However, expertly done.

Thank you to Flatiron Books: Pine & Cedar and NetGalley for providing an advance copy of this book in exchange for my honest review. The book will be published on April 14th, 2026.