Month: April 2026

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.