Category: literary fiction

The Heart of Everything by Marc Levy (Literary Fiction)

I loved this book — it was funny, sweet, and poignant. Always enjoyable with plenty of insight on the “big questions” and peppered with little surprises that evoke the individuality of each character, rather than serving as plot devices. I both laughed out loud and teared up frequently.

Thomas — a concert pianist in Paris — is surprised when his father (now dead for five years) appears in his apartment to beg him for one last favor — to reunite him with his long lost love in San Francisco. Not your typical ghost story, the long journey provides the vehicle for a chance for a father and son to have the kind of reconciliation one always hopes for after a death. I could not have predicted the level of insight, sweetness, and hidden delight from the plot description alone. The bantering style between the two often made me laugh out loud, but also clearly had that bittersweet feeling of two people who love each other but have never really been able to express that love directly. Teasing, at times acerbic, direct and simultaneously avoidant. What would you say to your deceased parent if you suddenly had just a few extra days with him or her? I liked being given the opportunity to think about just that. As an extra, I very much enjoyed Thomas’ musical references and his experiences as a performer. They had real depth and were not simply window dressing on a character.

I loved the writing style. Understated, lovely, and clean. The words don’t draw attention to themselves, but each one appears precisely chosen to impart exactly the meaning the author intended. I am embarrassed to admit that I had not previously heard of Marc Levy, who is apparently a bestselling French author and wrote the novel on which the movie “Just Like Heaven” was based. According to the Amazon page, “Le Figaro newspaper recently commissioned a nationwide poll asking the French to rank their favorite author: Marc Levy and Victor Hugo were #1.” I’ll certainly be investigating his backlist!

Thank you to Amazon Crossing and NetGalley for providing an advance copy of this book in exchange for my honest review. The book was published on January 1st, 2026.

Bet Me by Jennifer Crusie (Rom-com)

This was just pure fun to read from start to finish. A romcom with a voluptuous (rather than thin) heroine, great banter, a sizzling romance, good messaging around relationships and love, and some even greater friendships that I enjoyed every bit as much as the big romance. I only read romcoms if they are very funny and if the women aren’t portrayed as disorganized idiots (think Bridget Jones) — this one had me laughing and happy throughout. A couple of funny lines that don’t give much away:

“Look mother, I am never going to be thin. I’m Norwegian. If you wanted a thin daughter, you should not have married a man whose female ancestors carried cows home from the pasture.”

“She looked like the blowsy barmaid who worked in the inn behind the castle, the one who’s trash-picked one of the princess’s castoffs.”

“…who should have been hale and welcoming but instead had the vaguely paranoid look of a sheepdog whose sheep were plotting against him.”

More than Enough by Anna Quindlen (Literary Fiction)



One of my favorite books of the year — thoughtful, relatable, and delightful, even, in an odd way, the sad parts. This is in large part due to the characters who are all good and wise people in their way, but always with more to learn. I’d like to say there was a jackass or two in the pages, but there really weren’t.

Polly is a high school English teacher at a private Manhattan school where the kids are (mostly) wealthy and privileged but also driven, smart, and with problems of their own. As an aside, I like the fact that people who are not poor, not downtrodden, and not necessarily members of a minority class are allowed to have problems and drives and desires like anyone else. Her appealingly well-adjusted husband is a big animal vet at the Bronx zoo — possibly my favorite character occupation of all time! And she is part of a perfectly balanced four member book club — unique in that its members must buy, but not actually read, the chosen book every month. At the same time, however, her beloved father is losing his mind to dementia, she is struggling with infertility, she is in a perpetually low-grade state of anger with her mother, and a “joke” DNA test gift has resulted in a surprising and uncomfortable disclosure.

The book is a “tag along” to a thoroughly examined life as it progresses, as all lives do, completely out of the control of the one who lives it. All we can do is adjust, appreciate, understand, and settle in for the ride. Beautifully written with a slew of insightful comments (and many apt literary references and quotations — she teaches advanced Literary Honors courses after all!). Full of myriad families and friend groupings, each with their own distinctive cultures and implicit behavior patterns. I loved that the story was a study in non-dysfunctional ways of handling both life’s vicissitudes and pleasures. I found myself disagreeing with Tolstoy — not all “happy families” are alike, because every family, even the happy ones, find their own way of handling all that life throws at them. And lastly, some truly fun and informative scenes with alpacas.

Some quotes both directly from the author and as referenced in the book:

I am out with lanterns looking for myself — Emily Dickinson.

Marriage. Like calculus without the answers.

There’s a kind of equipoise to our group, so that we’ll veer here and there and somehow always come back to center, and peace.

Sometimes I think the human brain is a house, and the lights only come on in mine one room at a time.

Life is a tragedy for those who feel and a comedy for those who think — Moliere

“Daddy Daddy Daddy is running through my head like a piece of music with only two notes, like Philip Glass. I hate Philip Glass.”

“I’d like to disabuse you of the notion that you are the only woman in the world who doesn’t like her mother,” my therapist had said three years before.

The thing about living in New York City is that you feel either perpetually untethered or unwaveringly embedded.

You girls need to allow me my petty grievances.

Beauty is whatever gives joy — Edna St Vincent Millay.

I’m afraid families are a funnel, and ours is running out.

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 February 24th, 2026.

My friends by Fredrik Backman (Literary Fiction)

This book has been gushed over by all of my favorite readers — and I get it. It’s well-written, has characters that attach deeply to your heart, and tells a set of life stories of redemption through the powerful forces of friendship and art. I couldn’t stop reading, and I teared up fairly reliably in response to the truly heartfelt and exquisitely expressed insights, remembrances, and hopeful resolutions.

But — rather than finding it uplifting (as most others did), I was left feeling despondent. So many broken people, especially broken kids, populated these pages. I don’t believe the author ever specifies where this is taking place — what country, what city. We’re left to feel that this level of grief, brokenness, woe, and misery is the lot of most — the essential human experience as it were. I loved the uplift that came with the discussions on art, and the fierce loyalty struck between friendships forged in despair, but I felt more disturbed than inspired by the book as a whole.

Whistler by Ann Patchett (Literary Fiction)

The key to my love for all Ann Patchett novels is the depth and intricacies of her characters. There is no other writer that I know of who consistently imbues her characters with the level of introspection and thirst for personal knowledge that her characters have — or at least the ones that I relate to! Having read many of her essays, I think the secret is the profundity with which Patchett gets to know people in real life — and I mean any and all of the people she comes into contact with. Not many of us are blessed with the ability to know too many others at this level, and this wide ranging understanding of the varying types of human experience makes for characters who feel real and complex. The fact that Patchett is also an incredible storyteller, with ideal pacing and consistently enlightening disclosures, does not hurt!

So. Our deep and complex characters are launched in this story by a chance encounter between Daphne (our protagonist) and her (first and quite beloved) stepfather — the one who disappeared from her life abruptly after a traumatic car accident when she was nine (she is now 53). Through a set of discussions, connections, and events (celebrations, get-togethers, random walks), we get to unravel the very components that go into telling anyone’s personal story — the different pathways that lead to the person one becomes over time. The story (for me) was one touching moment after another, and I promise that none were of the overly schmalzified Hallmark variety. These are the moments that mark our lives, that matter, and that cause the shifts in our understanding of the world and ourselves.

I loved Daphne’s sister, the best friend and therapist; I loved her (older) husband Jonathan, who is unraveling a family mess of his own (a now deceased mother whose each element of hoarding precipitates a cornucopia of overwhelming memories); I especially loved Eddie, the newly discovered, now-ex stepfather. We see him skillfully through the eyes of the once and current Daphne, whose life experiences only slightly shade perceptions gained as a child during some intensely pivotal moments. The narrative reminded me of how different we are in each dynamic relationship with another.

There are LOTS of (really good) literary references and asides — Eddie is in publishing, Daphne writes, and let’s face it — Patchett knows a thing or two about the business! Themes include the impact of childhood experiences, mistakes and missed opportunities, the contemplation of life and death, human connection, and what it means to show up — really show up — for the people you love. The biggies! I couldn’t put it down.

Thank you to Harper and NetGalley for providing an advance copy of this book in exchange for my honest review. The book will be published on June 2nd, 2026.

Life: a Love Story by Elizabeth Berg (Literary Fiction)

A beautiful and sweet tale of an elderly woman’s life memories of love in all of its forms. At 94, Flo is still finding new opportunities to connect with people and helping others to spot their own connection opportunities. The story alternates between her “now,” and the (very long) letter she is writing to her heir, the now grown up Ruthie who had befriended her while a child. In this letter is the eponymous love story of Flo’s life, as told through vignettes describing some of the “odd” things Ruthie will find in her house once she is gone. And that will not be too far in the future as Flo has received a terminal diagnosis.

This book was never depressing. It was full of the joys, wonder and sorrows of life. It was full of (sometimes funny, sometimes poignant, sometimes both) origin stories about small, but important, objects (a toothpick dispenser, a handful of rocks). And it was full of the (endless) intricacies of knowing and loving another person. Flo feels compelled to giving advice to those who need it: Ruthie, who is contemplating divorce; her new friend Teresa, who has given up on love completely. And this advice is practical, real, sensical, and insistent in the most positive sense — based on the wisdom that comes from real experience. I loved the mechanism used to depict these experiential bits of wisdom — no bullet points, no logical expositions, just elaborating vignettes sprinkled about with purpose.

I laughed and cried, but the reading of it left me feeling warm, reflective, a bit nostalgic, and more alert to paying attention to the life that I have.

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 March 17th, 2026.

Enormous Wings by Laurie Frankel (Literary Fiction)

I wanted to like this book — Laurie Frankel is a fun and sharp writer and I loved Family, Family. She excels at writing families who are faced with every permutation of reproductive drama — unwanted pregnancies, adoptions, abortions, you name it — and who deal with them in an abundance of creative ways. This book’s discombobulating surprise? Pepper Mills — a 77-year old woman recently shunted to an old age home by her well-meaning but (in her opinion) overly controlling children — finds herself … pregnant! A bizarre situation by any standard but in this case, she also happens to live in Texas — home of some of the most “innovative” no-abortions-allowed legislation. (To be fair, we do get an explanation later in the book that does make this pregnancy more plausible than it first appears).

I loved the humor which is wry, supported by a fair amount of carefully launched sarcasm, and reminiscent of the Jewish family I always wished I lived in. I also loved the discussions, the ethical (and bizarre) questions, and every single one of the primary characters including a great set of “oldies” at the Home, and the myriad children and grandchildren who all add their personal (and multi-generational) slant to the events. I really loved the many one liners that had me laughing out loud — this woman can write! And how can you not love Pepper? Her thoughts, irritations, and love for each individual she connected with are coupled with her absolute insistence on good grammar! I’m not actually very good with grammar myself, but I really appreciate those who are.

My only complaint — and it was big enough to warrant my dropping the rating a point — is that the book was too long and spent much of that excess length on a long pro-choice / anti-Texan rant lecture. I am, and always have been, pro-choice, and I think the recent anti-abortion laws in Texas are wrong in so many ways — but I still resent the incredibly heavy handed depiction of people in Texas (including doctors) who are two-dimensionally mean and manipulative with their only goal appearing to be keeping women under control. It’s a long-standing technique in the world of fiction to make the bad guys really, obviously, Bad. It makes it easier to hate them and side with the author’s idea of the “good” people. But in our era of extreme polarization and encouraged hate, I’m pretty sick of it. I’m sure I’m overreacting here, but it really spoiled the book for me. Too much pounding of the message, even though the message was well-established from the first pages and anyone who was reading this probably already in agreement.

So — fun to read if you can ignore the stereotyped baddies and skim a bit at the end…

Thank you to Henry Holt & Co. and NetGalley for providing an advance copy of this book in exchange for my honest review. The book will be published on May 5th, 2025.

The Book Witch by Meg Shaffer (Literary / Mystery / Romance Fiction)

This is an unusual book. What starts as an adventure story that blurs the lines between reality and fiction via a coven of magic infused “Book Witches,” veers off into a more meaningful, touching, existential, and incredibly meta story about the importance of literature within our lives and the incredible love and connection between authors, characters, and readers. I laughed through most of the book, but was brought to tears (of the poignant, meaningful variety) multiple times in the last half.

Rainy March is a Book Witch — “sworn to defend works of fiction from all foes real and imaginary.” She has a magic umbrella, a feline familiar (Koshka the non-Russian, Russian Blue), and a few mysteries of her own past to consider. Her adventures are humorous and quite literary (if you’re a reader you will enjoy traipsing through many of your favorite books as Rainy works to fix breaks and prevent the “Burners” from having their incendiary way). Rainy falls for the dashing (and fictional) Duke of Chicago during one of her rescues. This goes against the rules, but does make the story more interesting (and a lot more complicated). The seven section headings of the book are genres — Romance, Mystery, Fantasy, Non-fiction, YA and Horror, Thriller, and Science Fiction — and the plot does a good job of navigating through the sections in an eponymous fashion.

Clever, funny, and often poignant writing that takes an intricate worldview and serpentine plot and makes them accessible, fun, and intriguing. Some beautiful lines which I can’t include without giving too much away — except this non-plot centric funny one: “Two more !s? Something needed to be done about this punctuation abuse.“ I’m quite guilty of this abuse myself, sadly, hence my appreciation for the line. Some interesting historical tidbits on works of literature — my favorite about Nancy Drew: Apparently Nancy Drew was rewritten in the 60s to make her less feisty, a little older and better behaved. Not only did I have no idea, but all my copies are the rewrites! Grrr. Lastly, I loved the dedication: “Dedicated to librarians book, sellers and teachers fighting the good fight to save our stories and to all the world’s bedtime story readers.”

Inspired by a spate of actual book burnings in the 70s — fun, educational, and moving.

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 April 7th, 2025.

Wreck by Catherine Newman (Literary Fiction)

If you liked Newman’s Sandwich (I loved it), you’ll like Wreck as well. The same intense (and ultra neurotic) narrator Rocky, her amiable (but richly written) husband Nick, son Jamie (now a New York City based management consultant who sheepishly admits he likes making money), and daughter Willa (vegetarian lesbian with heavy duty anxiety issues) — with the new addition of Rocky’s 92-year old father, cohabiting in the wake of his wife’s death the year before.

As with Sandwich, this book is deftly written and laugh-out-loud funny. Some of my favorite scenes include an array of bizarre cat behavior, taking her elderly father to a juice bar for his confusing introduction to “superfoods,” the kind of items being “gifted” on Buy Nothing, and joking with the phlebotomist while waiting for potentially terrifying results. Her incisive (and insightful) wit is applied equally to social commentary, family interactions, and her own “doomsday imagination” inner spiraling. Kind of a recombinant mix of Anne Lamott and Nora Ephron.

The “plot” comprises two ongoing storylines wending their way through family scenes and discussions. Story line one weaves through Rocky’s enigmatic health condition — beginning as an innocent looking rash or two and developing into a confusing set of interrelated symptoms. Rocky navigates the utterly irrational medical system “aided” by her overactive imagination and internal doom scrolling. At the same time, an accidental train collision has claimed the life of a young man known tangentially to Rocky’s family. Rocky and her equally obsessive daughter can’t help but be tormented by the event when it appears that corporate malfeasance may have played a role. Worse still, it may be Jamie’s consulting company that did the risk assessment number crunching which could be blamed. This ethical dilemma interested me as Rocky was happy to lay the blame at the door of a faceless corporate entity, stereotypically blind to all but pure greedy profit, but when her affable and highly moral son was involved, she was willing to look further into the situation and admit to some nuance in blame and understanding.

Loved the dialog, the thickness of familial feeling, the ethical questions, and the exposed hilarity of the human condition. Newman is one of those writers who always finds the exact phrase needed to describe a hopelessly complicated set of feelings, intentions or reactions. There are only a few writers who can do that, and I love them.

Thank you to Harper and NetGalley for providing an advance copy of this book in exchange for my honest review. The book will be published on October 28th, 2025.

The Listeners by Maggie Stiefvater (Literary Historical Fiction)

Writing: 5/5 Characters: 5/5 Pure story: 5+/5

I loved this book — the exquisite and content rich writing, the elaborate storytelling with deep and resonant themes, the faint whisper of otherworldliness. I probably won’t do it justice in this review, but I will try.

It’s just after Pearl Harbor and the world is falling apart — recklessly, rapidly, relentlessly. The Avallon Hotel — known for Extreme Luxury — has been offered to the State Department as a holding area for hundreds of foreign Axis diplomats until they can be exchanged for similarly trapped Americans in Axis countries. The hotel is held together through sheer force of will by the new manager — June Hudson — a local mountain girl with an untamed native twang, who possesses an innate talent for “listening” to the mountain sweetwater — the mineral springs that give the Avallon its luxury reputation. But the new residents bring with them foul sentiment, angry expressions, and bitter fear and stimulate the same in others. And it threatens to turn the sweetwater into something much darker. You can read it as metaphor or as a hint of fantasy. I chose both.

The many and varied characters — from diplomats to families to hotel staff to FBI and State Department agents — were deep, real, unusual, and individual. Despite a large cast of characters, I never mixed anyone up — they were each unique. And each struggled with their own challenges — the complexities of justice, deeply held principles challenged by the realities of a world at war, threatened loyalties, the definition of bravery, the scale of protection, and the pull of love. The story wound itself into knots while the broader plot moved inexorably forward. There was no filler. I never had a moment to contemplate whether or not I might be bored. I really loved the “character” of the sweetwater, a powerful metaphor but also reified in a compelling and illuminating way. The resolution was complex, perfect, and satisfying. The (short) authors note at the end brought out some of the more dramatic events that were based on reality. The diplomat housing and eventual swap was real, as were some of the (ridiculous) tantrums, pressures, and demands of individuals.

Highly, highly, recommended.