Peck & Peck by Bonnie Garmus (Literary Fiction)

At heart, this is a novel about poetry and how it can change your life — but the poetry theme is tightly inserted into a narrative populated by a madcap scramble of an adventure story replete with good vs evil, multiple layers of deception, the best kind of quirky characters, and lots of personal confusion (and eventual growth :-)) You can read it for the plot, the twisty characters, and / or for the opportunity to do some pretty deep thinking.

Our narrator is Batter — a somewhat timid character who falls hard for Poetry despite experimenting with a wide variety of majors that might have led to more lucrative careers (he does surprisingly well in Accounting). He recognizes that he hasn’t the talent to be a Poet himself, but decides he wants to discover Poets — like Brian Epstein discovered the Beatles. When he heads to the Big Apple after graduation nobody (but himself) is pleased, but through an interesting set of happenstances he lands a (very) low level job at Peck & Peck — the highly illustrious and beyond upscale (also incredibly expensive) Poetry journal. That’s when things start to get interesting.

I’m a character person, and the characters in this book are so very captivating. It took me awhile to warm up to Batter whose timidity and lack of self confidence or direction I found irritating, but I fell in love with his mother immediately. If you’re looking for an Elizabeth Zott type figure, Rainey is it. Rainey is a typeface designer and even if you haven’t a smidgen of interest in the characteristics of typefaces (e.g. common fonts like Arial, Times New Roman, or Palatino or unusual ones such as Impact, Baskerville, Caslon), you might well find her mini contextual lectures on the practical and emotional factors of typeface choice fascinating — I know I did. Dad is the “interesting” kind of historian — one who examines not just what happened in the past, but how the narration shifts with the teller, and how easily we can all be bamboozled. Every one of the editors at Peck & Peck have their own idiosyncratic set of motivations, cringes, hopes, and driving instincts that keep you on your toes if you happen to get bored. And then there is Batter’s “love at first sight” interest… Every character is a real obsessive type — but that’s what makes them interesting (and almost every one of the obsessions is completely obsession-worthy!)

But what about Poetry as a strong theme? I’ve never been a big fan, despite my voracious reading habits. But I perked up when I read one poetry-passionate character toss off the fact that 95% of poetry is boring. Yes! But his thesis is that the very top 1/2% is life changing. This book included excellent pointers to some spectacular poetry and surprisingly I have compiled a set of them and am happily reading, tearing (as in crying, not ripping) up as appropriate.

So — overall fun to read, some very interesting philosophical questions to ponder, a whole lot of tangent topics that were either completely new to me or offered new depths to what I thought I knew already — such as typeface design, slam poetry sessions, and … have you ever heard of heteropaternal superfecundation? Look it up! Reminded me of John Irving books in the way all the weird tangents actually come together in the end to achieve something. A good read.

Quotes:
“Poetry provides answers and despite what my pre-law classes would call an appalling lack of evidence, their answers always seemed right. Or something even more unlikely. Truthful.”

“Awful people succeed because nice people let them. This is the drawback of being nice. Nice people worry that it isn’t nice to take action against awful people because they don’t want to act awful themselves – they don’t want to stoop to that level. But I think nice people have been stooping all along. The worst kind of stooping – because it isn’t stooping, it’s bending over.”

“Poetry is problematic. First, it’s not easy. It forces you to think and sometimes thinking hurts. Also, poetry can make you feel stupid, like you don’t get it. And if you do get it, then it’s only because it just revealed something about yourself that you were hoping to keep hidden.”

“That, in a nutshell, is how the brothers gained new readership: by showing normal, everyday people what poetry was really all about. How it could make them feel; what it could make them think; and why it could change their lives — not just for one night, but for every night thereafter.”

“Dickinson once wrote that hope is a thing with feathers. If that’s true, despair must be a pair of concrete shoes. I know because I wore mine home.”

“The poets I publish have the nerve, the audacity, to face life’s struggles. To wrestle with ugliness, to question prevailing wisdom, to grasp at beauty. And they do it, not by mimicking what’s already been done — not by tilling the same ground, not by planting the same crop, not by sowing the same harvest — but by starting fresh. In a world devoid of poets, do you know what you get? Another knockoff. Another mouthwash.”

“Humans thrive on constant renewal. We require fresh ideas and original thinking to survive, and yet it sometimes feels like the art and necessity of thinking is becoming passe; that the one-size-fits-most, sitcom-rich, knockoff lifestyle is winning. I confess that some days I find the passivity of the human race overwhelming.”

“Since you’re a poetry lover, maybe you’ve heard of this new thing that makes poetry tolerable. It’s called music.”

Thank you to Scribner and NetGalley for providing an advance copy of this book in exchange for my honest review. The book will be published on October 13th, 2027.

Buckeye By Patrick Ryan (Literary Fiction)

A sweeping, historical, novel that delves into the intimate lives of two couples in the post WWII midwest: Cal Jenkins, prevented from doing his patriotic duty due to a birth defect; his wife Becky, a spiritualist whose life work is helping the living connect to their dearly departed (and never for a fee); Felix Salt, a true gentleman with a deep secret he keeps even from himself; and his wife Margaret, abandoned at birth and deeply craving family.

The Amazon description summarizes with: “Sweeping yet intimate, resplendent with moments of deep emotion and unforgettable characters, Buckeye is a transportive story of love, loyalty, sacrifice, and forgiveness.” That isn’t the way I would have described it — I’ve spent quite a bit of time trying to understand why I didn’t like it, because I really did not!

I can see why I should have liked it: it was written well, contained deep dives on various topics in human interaction such as the “love, loyalty, sacrifice, and forgiveness” mentioned above. And it did utilize meticulously drawn characters to drive the plot. But in truth I often found it a slog to read — and I did not find the characters memorable (or engaging) at all. I particularly had an issue with the way the women were drawn. The two men made sense — I could see how their life experiences made them who they were, and I was attracted to their personal growth throughout the book. But the women did not work for me — especially Margaret whose behavior appeared to be explained away as an oversimplified result of her childhood. I’m trying not to include any spoilers here, but suffice it to say that I do not believe her story would have ended up the way it did, and I was pretty unhappy with the distribution of guilt (i.e. some characters should have felt more guilt than they did, while others felt more than they should have). My gut feeling is that while the book is marketed as an ensemble piece, Felix is the central character — the only one imbued with a “real person” vibe and the only one who gets a “happy ending,” somewhat at the expense of everyone else IMHO. But to each his or her own! You may identify with and applaud the narrative around what may be for you a compelling character. Would love to discuss this more with anyone who has already read it so I don’t have to keep quiet about what bugged me!

American Hagwon by Min Jin Lee (Literary Fiction)

Writing: 5/5 Characters: 5/5 Storytelling: 5+++/5

The book will be published on September 29th, 2026.A sweeping family saga ranging from 1992 to 2007 from the author of Pachinko. The Kohs — John, his wife Helen, and their three children Bo, DH, and Mido — are heading back to their native Korea after spending seven years in Paramus, New Jersey (where all three children were born), three years in Korea, and six years in Australia — all following the demands of John’s career. The plunge into the ultra rigorous and punishing education system is brutal for all — in Korea your educational achievements can determine the path of your entire life; the competition is fierce, and the Koh children are behind. Enter the Hagwon — a private, for-profit, after-school and weekend academy in South Korea to supplement public education — difficult to get into, but can make all the difference.

I loved every bit of this book and the 752 pages (daunting at first glance) flew by easily. The multi-dimensional and ever expanding story follows the Koh family’s struggle to at least survive, and hopefully thrive, as the vicissitudes of fate toss them about geographically, financially, and emotionally. For the Kohs, the American Hagwon they become part of greatly expands their network of friends, family, and connections — both the ones they needed to get in, and those resulting from the experience within. But the place of the Hagwon in the story is not just about its role in ensuring the children’s future; it’s also a deep dive on educational pedagogy and a genuine striving to understand what really educates a child, versus simply earning a desired status.

Lee writes in a clean, clear style — low on emotional melodrama or manipulation, high in character and relationship depth and growth, and extra high in pure unadulterated storytelling. The book shifts between vignette-style sections, each highlighting a character or set of characters — opening us up to their individual personal development: principles, motivations, realizations, troubles and triumphs. In this book, everyone is constantly evolving, using experiences and contemplation to course correct as necessary. I like that the adversities faced were realistic and neither heavy handed nor dependent on some overall “evil power wielder.” While some characters are definitely not “good guys,” they are presented as full beings with their own motivations and (different, and not great IMHO) principles and goals. Most importantly, I love the way the characters handle their problems without whining, without assuming victimhood, and without neurosis (they couldn’t afford therapy anyway!). Family is (obviously) a big theme in a book like this, but I also liked the fact that the loyalty they showed one another was mutual — everyone supported the others in whatever way they could. Not a blind and determined loyalty that rewarded selfish and misguided behaviors that impacted others.

The book kept me entertained, made me think, and left me in a positive mood reflecting on what is important in life. And — my ultimate test — I would be very happy to befriend just about every character within the pages. These are people who live by their principles, and they are principles I share!

Thank you to Cardinal and NetGalley for providing an advance copy of this book in exchange for my honest review. The book will be published on September 29th, 2026.

The Slantwise Histories by Alix E Harrow (Speculative Short Stories)

This is a collection of previously published stories that the author describes as the “pleasures I have devised over the last decade.” Her “preoccupations and grudges, infatuations and nightmares.” This goes a long way to explaining the diverse set of stories included in the book. Before I tell you how and what I thought about the stories, let me first state categorically that in terms of pure writing, Harrow is one of the best. Her language, humor, compassion, insight and the insistent way she wrenches reactions from the reader are unsurpassed by other writers in my experience. I don’t always care for the subjects of her writing (or the feelings they wrench out of me!) but the quality of her writing is never challenged.

I think about the stories in this collection in three categories (and they aren’t the “Almost, Always, and Again” divisions they are separated into in the TOC — I still don’t get that). My favorites are the humorous stories with the utterly unexpected but totally integrated twists. Most feature a wry wit that recognizes and pokes fun at the very essence of our fears and aspirations. These contain plenty of quality banter (which I love) and often lovely inserts of modernity into canonical tales. The stories in this category are: The Knight and the Butcher Bird, The Ransom of Miss Coraline Connelly, The Long Way Up, and A Witches Guide to Escape: a Practical Compendium of Portal Fantasies. The next category clearly aligns with Harrow’s “grudges and nightmares.” They are dark, often depressing (for the emotional sponge that I am), and have a tendency to feature stereotype “Bad Guy” groups. For example, in these stories, all the men are misogynistic a**holes, and all corporations are greedy, abusive, and evil. Great stories, but I don’t like perpetuating these polarizing descriptions. Lastly, quite a few “queer” stories — tales of discovering and exploring someone’s sexuality, often in a speculative fiction setting. These were well done, but not something that I search for.

I’m not usually a short fiction reader — I love to get deep into a novel and stay with it for a while, but it is hard for me to pass up anything that Harrow writes. I had no problem simply skipping a story or two that didn’t work for me and focus on enjoying the rest.

Thank you to Tordotcom and NetGalley for providing an advance copy of this book in exchange for my honest review. The book will be published on October 20th, 2026.

Fair Ones by Lydia Millet (Literary Fiction)

A slow paced (but exquisitely written and perversely engaging) novel rich in insightful discourse and doubly rich in character depth. At the core is a trio of best friends: Mara, Jen, and Claire — single New Yorkers operating at various edges of the wealthy. Claire — a high school guidance counselor and beauty queen; Mara a tutor for prep school students; and Jen the brainy former journalist and culture editor. It’s billed as a double novel — part one is Mara’s story, launched immediately after Claire’s sudden and violent death; part two is Jen’s story, taken up a year later and continuing with the evolving relationships, secrets, and healing.

I loved this book for the very real and thoroughly explored lives in relation to the catastrophic experience and the mad swirl of collateral damage resulting. New friendships, new discoveries, new reactions, new regrets, new hopes. The plot progresses, sometimes in very surprising (but utterly believable) ways. Social commentary throughout in characters’ thoughts, reactions, and evolving sense of self. Plenty of existential considerations as well as political discussions and a sense of societal duty (rather than entitlement). I found so many great quotes. I liked the fact that each character worked hard at understanding what made a “good person” and how they could best achieve that label, while also having the awareness of the layers of hypocrisy that lurk just below the surface. I also liked how well the author painted people from the different perspectives of the other characters through the kind of dialog / discussions we all have.

Quintessentially a New York story, and yet, typical for stories about New Yorkers, the characters are all NY transplants and so we travel from a Jain community in California, to the woods in Maine, to elite boarding schools, to high priced, drug infused Wall Street lofts in discovery of backstories. We consider white collar crime, dementia without financial resources, and the search for meaningful occupation. And we are surprised with a creeping, surreptitious solution to a mystery we didn’t know existed. We “join” in the discussion of a wide variety of topics from multiple perspectives on everything from climate change to the pros and cons of capitalism, to the real meaning of Shel Silverstein’s The Giving Tree (that was a hoot). Millet’s books have a kind of dream like quality for me because I feel like I am occupying so many different heads at once. I loved this book.

Quotes:
“We had our daily routines, inside millions of others, and along the edges of those routines there was always the prospect of the story taking new turns. Because the city contained multitudes. So if the story changed, we’d figured, maybe we’d be excited all over again. Even the pandemic hadn’t driven us away. We’d survived.”

“In more neutral terms, she explained, they were both aware that pleasure and so-called ‘being in love’ are based on neurological novelty. And that the brain can’t be trusted not to take a relationship for granted. If they hung out together for too long a stretch, the dopamine surges would flare out.”

“If I tried to join in, throwing out a quick word of agreement or question, they’d gaze at me anthropologically. Like they were tolerating my naive opinion the way you’d tolerate a well-meaning foreigner who doesn’t speak the language.”

“Still, if you took away words, music lasted for centuries, I thought. A distillation of sadness that never aged. Unlike the person who’d felt it.”

“‘Economically underprivileged,’ was what the school called them, but Claire said poor kids; economically underprivileged was a privileged euphemism.”

“Although, she’d added, they outsourced their misery. Norway, for instance, claimed to be leading on carbon-neutrality but got most of its money from exporting a s***load of fossil fuels. Plus they went around slaughtering whales. Like the Japanese.”

“I never wanted kids. Even back when being gay meant you probably couldn’t have them. For the middle and upper classes, it’s a way of replacing anxiety about society with a fixation on the domestic. So you don’t have to strain your compassion by worrying about anything beyond the home front. Because you’ve already met your daily quota struggling to raise your young You can give up your ideals and your unresolved tension over the existential crisis of the ongoing death of the planet. And be praised for it. Since breeding’s sanctioned as the highest form of love.”

“There’s no such thing as a gift horse, Mara. Richard’s a regular horse. And the deal with horses is, you have to take care of them. You have to feed them. Muck out their stalls, Clean the first and shit from their hooves with a rasp. And ride them on a regular basis.”

“I don’t have a heart at peace, with my ex-wife. With that woman, I have a heart at war.”

“Plus Richard bloviated more if another professional was present. Especially Eli, who he saw as highly intelligent and yet, as a forensic pathologist, not fully conversant with current readings of late-stage capitalism. Richard would shift into enthusiastic lecture mode while Eli, likely exhausted from eight hours poking around in gnarly corpses, nodded politely and endured. I had to break into the lectures to save him.”

“So what did I do, again? With all that was given to me? And the answer would be, I ate. Mara claims social boredom makes me act out. But I don’t act out enough. If I did, I wouldn’t get so bored.”

Thank you to W. W. Norton & Company and NetGalley for providing an advance copy of this book in exchange for my honest review. The book will be published on October 6th, 2026.

Under Story by Chloe Benjamin (speculative fiction)

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

Laurel Salter, a distinguished biologist focussed on trees and fungi has run away from grief to Antarctica’s McMurdo Station — as a dishwasher. While there she is captivated by a strange phenomenon that has the research physicists both excited and perplexed — the Arc, a strange light appearing over the ice. When her ex-husband, himself a renowned physicist, appears at the station to study it, she persuades him to join her on an expedition to what she posits will be an anti-universe (where time moves backwards) enabling them to correct a grievous error.

I have mixed feelings about this book — there are parts I loved, and other parts I found a bit facile and / or too drawn out. I loved the world-building involved in the anti-universe. A lot of thought went into what it would really mean for time to run backwards (from our perspective) and what that would look like in terms of birth, death, parenting, schooling, etc. Benjamin’s depiction of such a “place” was detailed, persuasive, and pretty thorough. I particularly liked that it wasn’t simply a “roll the camera backwards” mimicry of the parts of life Laurel had already lived in her own universe. While the opportunities were there (e.g. a past boyfriend in our world made advances in the mirror universe but she was able to deflect them), she had autonomy to behave as she liked. Friendships with people she had known in our universe were the same, but different, and I found the exploration of connection with the “same” people in a different context and with a different past, well done and believable. I liked some (but not all) of the scientific descriptions of physics (including quantum entanglement, one of my favorite concepts), biology, and the nature of consciousness that were brought into the story. I also loved the first part about life at McMurdo. I would have been quite happy to have the whole novel take place there.

On the other hand, I do think the book was too long (500 pages) for the content, with too much repetition (especially around some of the relationships) and too much elaboration around the theories behind the (often made-up) science. I found myself bogged down at times, and was able to skim sections without losing any appreciable context or information. While the speculative nature of the story was well thought out and described, I would have liked a little more character depth and development. I had a hard time understanding why Laurel did some of the things that she did, and didn’t really take to her (which could say more about me than the character!).

Overall, I enjoyed reading the book (especially allowing judicious skimming as needed). Multiple themes pervade the narrative — ecology and the planet, human connection and the lengths we will go to maintain it, and the nature of time and consciousness. The ending was a bit unexpectedly bizarre, but decent. The book has a ton of advance praise from a veritable who’s who of literary talent. So!

Thank you to G.P. Putnam’s Sons and NetGalley for providing an advance copy of this book in exchange for my honest review. The book will be published on September 1st, 2026.

Trust by Hernan Diaz (Pulitzer Prize for Fiction 2023)

I did not love this book. It won the Pulitzer — which used to be a guaranteed winner for my taste but that hasn’t been true for the last few years. Much of it was well-written in terms of actual literary sentences, but I found the structure unnecessarily tedious. Four distinct sections — each written by a different (fictional) author but purporting to describe the life of the same (very, very) wealthy man and his wife during the late 1800s / early 1900s. Part 1: a novel about a rich man who had no real passions except for the complexity of the stock market, for which his particular brain was well-suited. Some background on the woman who was to be his wife, completing after her death. I’m trying not to give away any real spoilers here — suffice it to say that the language of this section is precise, clean, somewhat poetic, and with some intriguing bits (I like thinking about how other people’s brains work), but with rather two-dimensional characters that I don’t find in the least believable or (obviously) relatable. Part 2 is the partially completed, partially outlined autobiography written by the “real” man serving as the ill-disguised subject of part 1. This was painful to read because it was (intentionally) poorly written and was basically a diatribe claiming that the man attained his riches by ensuring a good and healthy economy for all. We’re now at 50% of the book and feeling a bit weighed down by slog! Part 3 is the best. Reminiscent in style (to me) of A Tree Grows in Brooklyn — it’s the story of a young woman raised by an anarchist father who somehow gets the job of helping the rich man write his autobiography. This part is full of insight into behavior, relationships, imagination, self-preservation, and literature. Part 4 is the short excerpt from the only one of the rich man’s wife’s extensive diaries to have survived. It’s got a real twist to it and I’ll leave it at that.

It’s interesting to read about how different people perceive the same thing, and it’s always interesting to think about how literature can shape the way we think about something, even though it’s “fiction.” It was also interesting to think about why I “trusted” certain sections more than others. In truth, all of the fictional authors were unreliable — an outside author trying to make money on a best seller; a man trying to show how attaining his wealth was really about helping others; a woman writing her own memoir painting her task to embellish the biography with pure imagination in the best light; and the diary excerpt of a woman who may have been mentally ill, may have been suffering from a variety of physical ailments, or may just be an egoist in her own right — and yet we automatically believe some more than others. Is our choice of what to believe from our own biases or from the skill of the writer? That’s worth a discussion — but as the “truth” is never determined, we’re left with the same kind of confusion we (should) bring to any story, news item, piece of gossip, etc.

I think if part 2 had been left out, or at least greatly diminished, it might have been an enjoyable read, but not Pulitzer worthy. On the other hand, the latest Pulitzer Fiction award was given to a book that comprises a single sentence across 304 pages so I think experimental style may have surpassed character development and beautiful language as the key criterion. Also, some kind of social justice / anti-capitalism push as the Pulitzer page describes this book as a “A riveting novel set in a bygone America that explores family, wealth and ambition through linked narratives rendered in different literary styles, a complex examination of love and power in a country where capitalism is king.” Honestly not how I would have described it.

Madeline McKnight Signs Off by Evan Brooke (Literary Fiction)

Madeline McKnight — fierce, determined, a “Wizard of Wall Street”, and … not possessed of too many friends. Fighting against the inevitable resulting from a stage 4 melanoma diagnosis, she is determined to survive it until her museum honoring Hetty Green (1834 – 1916) is opened. She wants people to care about Hetty, and to recognize her brilliance. She sees herself — her accomplishments and her lack of recognition — in Hetty. Hetty was called “the Witch of Wall Street” in her time — Madeline’s epithet rhymes and starts with B. She invites (cajoles, bribes) Bri Davis — struggling nursing student drowning in debt and easily bribable — to help her get to the finish line. The catch? Bri’s mother was Madeline’s best friend until an emotional explosion drove them apart many years ago. Bri’s attitude toward Madeline is ambivalent at best.

Alternating chapters between Madeleine and Bri’s perspectives, the narrative is surprisingly witty, thoughtful, and illuminating. While I shed some tears when the obvious finally occurred, I left feeling more uplifted than down. Excellent writing — clear, humorous at times, and perfectly capturing the internal struggles one faces when considering the parts of one’s life already lived. Themes around money and wealth, atonement, loyalty conflicting with morality, and plenty of thoughtful coverage of how women are treated differently than men — not the heavy handed oppression storyline, but the small ways in which things are harder or more criticized or misunderstood or subject to some doozies of double standards. The latter was particularly interesting because Madeline was forced to acknowledge the complexity of individual human beings. She wanted to make Hetty an unsung hero but the reality of Hetty — known as the “richest woman in America in the Gilded Age” — was more complex. She was a self-made woman with astonishing financial prowess, yet she did nothing to help others, not even supporting women’s suffrage. This led to Madeline’s own soul searching and the recognition and acceptance of her own accomplishments and failures.

Completely engaging.

Thank you to Atria Books and NetGalley for providing an advance copy of this book in exchange for my honest review. The book will be published on November 3rd, 2026.

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.