Such a Pretty Picture

Reading Such a Pretty Picture is like being handed someone’s most vulnerable truth, raw and unfiltered. Andrea Leeb doesn’t just tell you about her life—she brings you into it with visceral clarity. From the opening scene, where a seemingly innocent bath becomes a pivot point in the author’s childhood, I knew this wasn’t going to be a typical memoir. It’s a story about survival—of trauma, betrayal, and, surprisingly, moments of love—rendered with a clarity that’s both poetic and emotionally searing.

Leeb’s prose is restrained, which makes the events she recounts even more powerful. The opening line—“It began the first time my father gave me a bath”—sets the stage for the heartbreaking reality of a little girl betrayed by those meant to protect her. It’s not just the abuse itself that hits hard, but the betrayal of silence, the gaslighting, and the way her mother’s love seems to disappear overnight. “What happened tonight is your fault,” her father tells her, a line that reverberates through the rest of the book like a curse.

What really struck me as a male reader was how invisibly and insidiously abuse and trauma can shape someone’s life, especially when it's wrapped in silence and shame. Leeb doesn’t sensationalize any of it. Instead, she shows us the consequences—how a child learns to internalize guilt, how she adapts to survive, and how that survival sometimes looks like silence, compliance, or even self-harm. Her attempt to suffocate herself with cotton balls and tape in a shoebox scene was devastating. It’s written without melodrama, which makes it even more chilling.

There’s also a powerful undercurrent of identity throughout the book. Leeb often compares herself to her sister Sarai, who is consistently favored and protected. “Even without seeing, she twisted [Sarai’s curls] into tiny perfect ringlets,” she writes, describing her blind mother’s tactile affection. The juxtaposition is brutal—Sarai receives the warmth Andrea craves, while Andrea is met with distance, rejection, or worse.

Yet Such a Pretty Picture isn’t only about victimhood. It’s about clarity. Leeb’s adult reflections don’t excuse the past but seek to understand it. She grapples with how she once minimized the abuse (“At least he’d left me a virgin”), only to realize later that “rape is rape.” That kind of brutal honesty gives this memoir its depth.

This is not an easy book, but it’s an important one. For readers willing to sit with its pain, Such a Pretty Picture offers a profoundly moving look at how children survive the unthinkable—and how memory, voice, and truth can begin the path to healing. It’s a book I won’t forget anytime soon.


No Woman Left Behind: A Journey of Hope to Heal Every Woman Injured in Childbirth

Kate Grant’s No Woman Left Behind is part memoir, part global health manifesto—and entirely unforgettable. With sharp wit, unflinching honesty, and a voice that’s equal parts fierce and vulnerable, Grant charts her unlikely journey from Madison Avenue ad executive to the powerhouse CEO of the Fistula Foundation. It’s a deeply personal and globally relevant story of transformation—not just for Grant, but for the more than 100,000 women whose lives her work has helped heal.

At its heart, this is a book about listening to what Grant calls “the soul’s whisper,” a theme that runs through the narrative with poignant insistence. “My soul hungered for something more,” she writes after years immersed in the high-octane world of advertising. Her eventual pivot to a life of purpose is catalyzed by a life-changing visit to Ethiopia’s famed Fistula Hospital in the mid-1990s. Grant recalls her encounter with Dr. Catherine Hamlin and former patient-turned-surgical assistant Mamitu Gashe with reverent clarity. “They will break your heart,” Hamlin tells her, and indeed, the reader’s heart breaks again and again as the suffering—and resilience—of fistula patients is laid bare.

Grant deftly contextualizes the issue: obstetric fistula, a childbirth injury nearly eliminated in wealthier countries, continues to devastate women in the poorest parts of the world. She writes, “The biggest difference in health outcomes between rich and poor in our world is in the odds of death due to pregnancy or childbirth.” Through vivid storytelling, we meet young women like Hanna, married at seventeen, left incontinent after five days of obstructed labor, and later healed thanks to a single surgery—a surgery costing less than many of us spend on dinner.

One of the most powerful aspects of Grant’s writing is her refusal to sugarcoat. She’s candid about her missteps, insecurities, and the steep learning curve she faced transitioning into the nonprofit world. In one particularly humorous yet sobering reflection, she describes the advertising industry as offering rewards that are “shallow, transparent, and meaningless,” underscoring her yearning for more.

Themes of justice, maternal health equity, and the power of individual agency pulse through every chapter. Grant’s narrative is also a study in leadership—how empathy, grit, and storytelling can build a movement from the ground up. The book doesn’t just inspire; it mobilizes.

As a reader, I came away with immense respect for the women whose lives are changed by fistula surgery—and for Grant herself, who left behind a life of glossy ad campaigns to amplify their voices. “We tell ourselves that all lives have equal value,” she writes. “But this data reveals a very different story.”

This is a vital read for anyone who believes that purpose is the greatest privilege—and that no woman should be left behind.


I picked up No Woman Left Behind thinking it would be one of those inspiring, world-bettering books I could read in pieces between laundry loads and bedtime stories. I didn’t expect it to grab me by the heart and not let go. Kate Grant’s story is so compelling, so raw, and so full of hard-earned wisdom that I found myself staying up past midnight more than once—something I never do anymore.

At its core, this is a story about one woman figuring out how to live a life that actually matters. Grant starts out in the corporate world, working in high-end advertising, flying to New York and LA, and living the kind of life that sounds glamorous but feels increasingly empty. She’s honest about that emptiness, about the doubts and burnout so many of us can relate to. “I had what I was supposed to want,” she writes, “but my soul hungered for something more.” I’ve been there.

Her turning point comes during a trip to Ethiopia, where she visits a hospital that treats women suffering from fistula—an injury caused by obstructed childbirth. The descriptions of what these women go through are gut-wrenching. As a mom, I couldn’t help but imagine myself—or worse, my daughter—in their shoes. Women like Hanna, who gave birth at home after five days of labor and lost her baby, only to be left with incontinence and shame. “Her husband hated her smell and built a separate small hut for her to live in.” I had to pause there. That sentence just wrecked me.

But it’s not all heartbreak. What makes this book so powerful is the way it lifts you back up. Grant doesn’t just witness the pain—she does something about it. She eventually becomes the CEO of the Fistula Foundation, helping to build it into a global force that has funded more than 100,000 surgeries. The book is filled with stories of women regaining their lives, doctors working miracles, and donors quietly transforming the world.

One thing I appreciated was how down-to-earth Grant is. She admits when she doesn’t know something, when she messes up, when she’s scared. She doesn’t try to be a superhero. She’s a smart, determined woman doing her best—and that’s so relatable. Whether she’s learning to navigate nonprofit politics, confronting cultural blind spots, or facing her own insecurities, she brings you along for every step.

I finished this book feeling hopeful and energized. It reminded me that change doesn’t have to start with a big plan—it can start with a question, or a trip, or even a gut feeling that you’re meant to do more. If you’ve ever felt like your life is stuck in “busy but not fulfilling” mode, No Woman Left Behind might just be the nudge you need. This one will stick with me for a long time.


Scapegoat

Donald Proffit’s Scapegoat is one of those rare historical novels that doesn’t just recreate the past—it interrogates it. Set in 1558 Bruges, a city clinging to its decaying splendor and gripped by religious paranoia, the novel unspools the tragic tale of François van Daele and Willem de Clerck—two young men whose love and lives are consumed by fear, power, and the cruel machinery of moral judgment. It’s a grim and lyrical work that lands uncomfortably close to our present moment, and that’s precisely what makes it so compelling.

The novel opens in 1596 with a fictional balladeer, Joos van den Rijm, recounting the events of 1558 in a smoky Bruges tavern. Joos serves as both chorus and provocateur, challenging official history with a mischievous grin: “Ah, but what is history if not a song retold until it pleases the powerful?” That line stuck with me—not just because it’s sharply written, but because it sets the tone for a narrative that’s deeply aware of how storytelling itself can become an act of resistance.

What follows is a vividly detailed plunge into Bruges during Ascension Day festivities, where puppet morality plays and parades mask a deeply fractured society. Matthias Engel, a journeyman weaver, is our initial outsider lens into this world. His arrival in the city and fast friendship with François and Willem—two locals navigating the treacherous terrain of queerness in a theocratic regime—grounds the novel in lived experience rather than historical abstraction.

The craftsmanship in this book is ridiculous—in the best way. Proffit’s descriptions of the morality wagon in Market Square, with its pulleys, pipes, and angelic statuary, are practically steampunk in their mechanical beauty. “It was as if the entire Hierarchy of Angels had been deliberately caged for the journey to Bruges,” Matthias observes. That line captures both the city’s grandeur and its suffocating religiosity.

But Scapegoat isn’t just period drama with good prose. It’s a meditation on otherness—how institutions scapegoat the vulnerable to preserve power. François and Willem’s affection is tender and tentative, unfolding in stolen glances and whispered conversations.

 The contemporary parallel makes the novel hit even harder. In his preface, Proffit links his narrative to his ancestor Susannah North Martin, executed in the Salem witch trials, and to the ongoing persecution of LGBTQ+ individuals. This isn’t historical fiction as escape—it’s historical fiction as mirror.

Scapegoat is a powerful, gorgeously written novel that blends historical immersion with emotional urgency. It’s not an easy read, but it’s an important one. If you’re interested in stories that ask hard questions and linger after the final page, this one’s worth your time.


Wild in Seattle: Stories at the Crossroads of People and Nature

In this engaging and enlightening collection of essays, David B. Williams skillfully unveils the hidden stories embedded in the natural and urban landscape of Seattle. Blending science, history, and personal observation with a dash of whimsy, Williams offers readers a deeper understanding of the city’s geology, ecology, and human history. The essays cover a wide range of geologic topics, from the massive sculpting effects of Ice Age glaciers and the force of ancient tsunamis to the grand collisions of tectonic plates that continue to shape the Pacific Northwest. Equally compelling are his encounters with the wildlife that share the urban environment: coyotes slipping through side streets, otters and seals inhabiting the waterways, clams tucked beneath the surface, and a remarkable variety of birds. Looking at plants, he embraces his beloved backyard giant Douglas-fir and praises the cattail, but has less affection for the horsetail.  Even the smelly skunk cabbage has remarkable merit. Williams’ essays often double as guides; one such destination is the Union Stables, a historic building marked by a sculpted horse’s head, serving as a tangible reminder of Seattle’s once horse-powered past. Accompanying each essay is a charming pictorial rendition, skillfully created in pen and watercolors by talented illustrator Elizabeth Person, that summarizes the essay's essence.


Detective Aunty: A Novel

Kausar is no stranger to terrible news, but she never expected her daughter, Sana, to be taken into custody for murder. She quickly makes plans to spend a week helping Sana with her children, which means facing the life she left behind in Toronto twenty years ago. She has avoided the Golden suburb she once called home for years, but with evidence mounting and the police treating Sana as the only suspect, she fears she may be the only one who can find the truth.

The mystery is filled with heart and a gentle understanding used to explore themes of trauma, family, and loss. Jalaluddin employs a compassionate lens to highlight community and family dynamics, touching on real-life topics and situations, such as racism and immigration. Kausar Khan immediately feels like a longtime friend and a full-fledged character you’re eager to solve a mystery with. Her enthusiasm and Agatha Christie-worthy observational skills give an energy that drives the stories and keeps you turning the page. Her ability to use her perceptions of others against them is Jalaluddin’s secret weapon as Kausar raises the bar for what it means to be a sleuth. Your next mystery obsession, Detective Aunty, feels like just the beginning of Kausar’s adventures and will leave you wanting more.


The Cemetery of Untold Stories: A Novel

Alma Cruz is a writer nearing the end of her career, who watched her friend obsess for years over an unfinished novel that possessed her until she died. Rather than face a similar fate, Alma decides to return to the country of her birth, the Dominican Republic, and bury boxes of her unfinished work on a piece of land she inherits in what she calls a cemetery of untold stories. Some of those characters and their stories are not ready to remain untold, however, and what unfolds creates a staggeringly beautiful novel.
Awarded the 2013 National Medal of Arts, Julia Alvarez’s work is in a class by itself. Her writing is fresh, and her sentences are often haunting. Her ability to interweave diverse stories into a coherent whole is remarkable. Each of Alvarez’s characters has a distinct voice and will remain with the reader long after the final page is read. Beyond that, she touches on a remarkable array of themes including sisterly love, disaspora, the way violence plays out across lifetimes, and most importantly, the power of stories. Readers will finish this book fervently hoping that Alvarez has no immediate plans for her own cemetery of untold stories.


The Reluctant Reaper

The Reluctant Reaper is a charming, emotionally rich romantasy that balances humor, heart, and high-stakes mythology with ease. Marie Janice Davidson brings a fresh twist to the genre by centering the story on Amara Morrigan, the daughter of Death, whose refusal to inherit her father’s mantle feels both deeply personal and achingly relatable. Amara’s ability to sense when someone’s time is coming lends the novel real emotional weight, especially in her tender, complicated relationship with Gray.

Davidson excels at blending the cosmic with the cozy, setting divine drama against the unexpectedly perfect backdrop of small-town North Dakota. The story’s warmth shines through in its witty dialogue, found-family dynamics, and moments of quiet grief and love. While the premise is playful, the novel thoughtfully explores choice, responsibility, and what it means to care deeply in the face of inevitability. Funny, heartfelt, and irresistibly readable, The Reluctant Reaper is a delightful take on fate, love, and defying expectations.


The Game Is Murder

The Game is Murder and you’ve been invited. This is a unique murder mystery party where you play the Great Detective. You must listen to all the witnesses and examine all the evidence. However, be warned. Nothing is as it seems. Take this case on at your own risk, because you will not leave until the mystery has been solved. That means who did it, how, and why. Good luck.

I don’t even know where to start. This was one of the weirdest and longest books I’ve ever read. I thought the idea was sound, but once you start, you realize pretty quickly that a murder mystery dinner doesn’t really play out well in print. Then you get a bit further and realize that’s not even what’s going on at all. Imagine reading every single document from a case, including all the court case’s transcripts. This book is almost five hundred pages long, consisting almost entirely of complete nonsense. You could attend a murder mystery dinner in less time than it takes to get through this book, which you should do instead. Unless the weirdness has piqued your interest, then by all means, go for it.


Magic Tree House Fact Tracker Graphic Novel: Dinosaurs (Magic Tree House Fact Tracker Graphic Novels)

Mary Pope Osborne, Jenny Laird, Jomike Tejido

Jack and Annie are back in this really cool graphic novel, all about dinosaurs. Jack and Annie discuss the 3 dinosaur time periods. They also talk about what scientists can learn from their fossils. While it seems that scientists know a lot about the creatures that lived before our time, it is all based on clues, and no one really knows. My favorite section of the book is the different theories on what may have happened to the dinosaurs and why they may have all died.
I really like this colorfully illustrated graphic novel! Magic Tree House books have always been a favorite, so this is a really cool, fun way to explore them and learn more about the many adventures Jack and Annie have.


The Burning Season

Opal, 12, is old enough to start smoke spotter training, although living in a fire tower with her mom and grandmother, both smoke spotters, should make Opal’s training easier. But after losing her father in a fire, Opal has a tremendous fear of fire, something she keeps secret. Also, Opal would like to stay with friends in town in the fall and attend middle school rather than being homeschooled and spending all her time in the tower. It’s a lonely life for a kid. One day, Opal’s mother hikes into town, a big storm comes, and she doesn’t arrive on time. Then, Opal and her grandmother fight, and Opal runs off. Her grandmother follows and doesn’t return. Meanwhile, Opal spots smoke.

Carol Starr Rose has written a very exciting and believable story in lyrical verse. It makes for a quick read that young readers will appreciate, while also telling a very compelling story. Young readers will be completely engaged while learning a great deal about the life of a smoke spotter and the ways that fire can be beneficial and part of the natural way of things. Great characters, great writing, and a wonderful story.


Compost Happens: Growing a Flourishing Life After Childhood Abuse

Compost Happens is a chronology in which author Diana Morgan Dean bravely shares her journey through a lifetime of reactions and decisions made using her emotional baggage for guidance. It is often a perilous journey fraught with Dean’s conditioning by the adults in her family. These adults were not Ward and June Cleaver. Some of Dean’s experiences growing up were so dreadful that she hid them away in the back of her memory just to survive.

Although the accumulation of years can signal reaching adulthood, that’s not a sure thing for Ms. Dean. She carries the messages she received as a child, worthlessness and fear of abandonment, into each of her personal relationships. Her needy thoughts and actions in three failed marriages ensured that the outcomes were disastrous.

Diana Morgan Dean writes well, and she presents herself to the reader as a conflicted being. Impulsive decisions seem like exciting new beginnings for her. This might work for some people; however, not if your attitude consistently results in many dead ends. The proverb “If you do what you did, you’ll get what you got” could have helped if she had learned it earlier in life.


Buddhist Masters of Modern China: The Lives and Legacies of Eight Eminent Teachers

In the West, relatively little is known about how contemporary Chinese Buddhists live and practice their faith. As the global relevance of the Dharma grows—and as China’s economic and political influence continues to expand—interest has deepened in understanding how Buddhist traditions have endured and evolved in the country that once nurtured so many of them. In Buddhist Masters of Modern China, editor Benjamin Brose introduces readers to influential figures and their core teachings, presenting a rich tapestry of spiritual life in China.

Through eight biographical essays—each authored by a leading scholar of East Asian spirituality—the volume examines prominent figures from Buddhist traditions, including Chan, Huayan, and Pure Land. The inclusion of translated primary texts following each profile strengthens the book’s utility as both a scholarly and pedagogical resource.

The featured teachers lived and taught between the fall of the Qing dynasty in 1911 and the founding of the People’s Republic in 1949, a turbulent period of war, social change, and cultural transformation. The essays illuminate not only the teachers’ spiritual insights but also the historical challenges they faced. As a student of Buddhism, I especially valued the life stories of Xuyun, Laiguo, Benkong, and others whose teachings still resonate today. This volume illuminates how modern Chinese Buddhist leaders shaped contemporary practice and will be of value to both historians of religion and engaged Buddhist practitioners.


The Woman in Suite 11: A Novel

It has been a decade since we last caught up with journalist and heroine Lo Blacklock, the miraculous survivor of the Aurora, who uncovered a dark secret and saved lives in the process. Lo is now a wife, mother, and freelance writer, eager to reestablish her career in journalism. She sees an invitation to attend the opening night of a luxury hotel as a potential opportunity to prove herself and enhance her skills, all while enjoying a dream vacation; however, what seems like a chance for success quickly turns into a nightmare as she finds herself constantly looking over her shoulder and encountering familiar faces from the past. Lo is racing against the clock as she faces a murder charge for a crime she didn't commit and must uncover the truth before she loses more than she had a decade ago.

I loved The Woman in Suite 11 as much as the previous thriller, The Woman in Cabin 10; it is a sequel I didn't realize Lo (and her audience) needed as badly as she did! I enjoyed exploring the depth of her and Judah's relationship, struggles and joys of motherhood, and real-world events that added heartfelt moments without losing any mystery or suspense.


The Break-In

If you're looking for a book with some really great twists and turns, then The Break-In by Katherine Faulkner is the perfect book for you. When an intruder breaks into Alice's house, she reacts by hitting him with a stool, an act that ultimately kills the young man. As the weeks carry on, Alice starts thinking about why her house was targeted in the attack. Although it is ruled a case of self-defense, she feels as if there was a reason the young man was there, and not just to rob her.

Faulkner does a fantastic job of making readers think Alice has just gone mad, when really, there is a whole other side to story that doesn't get revealed until the second half of the book. All of the secondary characters play their parts well, including the manipulative sister of the man who broke into Alice's house. The book kept me guessing who was innocent and who wasn't. This book is perfect for fans of suspenseful thrillers who love a great twisty story that is neatly delivered in the end.


When Stars Align: A Novel

The author has written over seventy books in the young adult genre. She is published by Disney generally, but this book comes from Mindy Kaling’s publishing venture. The author is also active in television, creating romances with happy endings.  This book seems to be thrown together in a gossipy girl talk method. It has no principal characters but floats along assuming that the reader can guess which high profile pop star is featured. Can you guess who Miranda Montana might be? The other characters in the girlie triad are Germaine St. Germaine-Chang and Sicily Bell. There are other characters; a boy named Zane Blue who is also trapped in the quandaries of the young and famous pop stars. The book is poorly written and so does not hold together enough to become interesting. It seems tired and worn after the daily pop culture which is always ascendent in the media. Perhaps this thrown together book will find a following in the media obsessed fan base.


Opening the Gates of Hell: Operation Barbarossa, June–July 1941

In a time of increased instability, the two European countries had signed a treaty of non-aggression in 1939. They proceeded to initiate various hostilities against their enemies and claim territory. However, an undercurrent of mistrust lay just beneath the surface. By late 1940, Adolf Hitler and his Nazi high command were ready to shift part of their war machine eastward and target the Soviet Union. The codename was “Operation Barbarossa”, and the battle plan involved infiltration, the neutralization of various threats, followed by a full-scale invasion. The military thrust began on June 22, 1941, and while the Soviets were not unaware of their former allies’ plans, they were not fully prepared for the onslaught. In the initial days of battle, the Soviets were outfought, and confidence was low as casualties were high. However, the resolve of the Soviets was underestimated as the battles continued with no clear winner.

Opening the Gates of Hell is a comprehensive delving into the early days of a decisive campaign, which ultimately proved to be futile for the Nazis. Author Richard Hargreaves has written a thoroughly insightful book that provides many sides to a bloody and consequential battle.


The Sandy Page Bookshop: A Novel

Leah Powell returns to Chatham, Massachusetts, to the cottage her father has left her after his passing--a death that is fraught with complications, but she has nowhere else to go. Hannah McKinnon's The Sandy Page Bookshop serves as a reminder that there's usually more than one side to a story and that you can, sometimes, go home again.

When Leah gets to Chatham, she is newly single, jobless, and adrift. The plan she had for her life has vanished, and she isn't sure how to navigate the world on her own. As we learn of her story, a local girl named Lucy is distraught over a car accident that has seriously injured her sister, and the widowed Eudora is trying to find a way back into the world after years of self-imposed solitude.

These three women come together at the Sandy Page Bookshop, and the adventure Leah begins without knowing for certain how it will turn out. The book asks readers to imagine what family means, which secrets are worth keeping, and how far you would go to become who you were always meant to be. In short, it's darling.


A Fate So Cold

Domenic believes he’s bound to be a Chosen One, but doesn’t act like it.

Ellery fears she will be a Chosen One, but not why everyone thinks.

In a land that fears the perils of winter, and the beasts it brings, Alderland is waiting for their next Chosen One, who will bond with a Living Wand of Summer and save everyone. Domenic and Ellery both attend a magic school to hone their magic. When Domenic bonds with Valmordion, one of the oldest and well-known Living Wands, everyone is surprised. He’s not a great student, lacking in motivation and scholarly achievements. However, everyone, especially the Council, is stunned when Ellery not only wields Winter magic, but creates the first Winter Living Wand, Iskarius. Now with a cataclysm of winter about to descend, it is up to the Chosen Two to end the encroaching cold and save Alderland.

Dense with detail and told through alternating viewpoints, the combination of teenage angst with Summer versus Winter magic was enough to push through. Characters fell a little flat, but with an ending like that, the sequel should be a worthy read. Not a best of 2025 but a decent, if long, read nonetheless.


Red City (The New Alchemists, 1)

When her mother is in a work accident, Sam worries about the cost, which leads her to seek out Diamond Taylor, the leader of the Grand Central syndicate. Proving herself could mean the chance at a better life. In a world run by rival syndicates, Alchemy is at the core of how these groups operate. Meanwhile, Ari is facing his own challenges as he’s taken to be an apprentice of the Lumines, cutting off contact with his loved ones. On opposing sides of a growing conflict, the two were once friends and now must face off against each other.

The world Lu has brought to life is a fascinating blend of modern reality and contemporary fantasy. Enter an alternate LA where Alchemy is the norm, and syndicates have control, which quickly sets the stage for messy conflict. The structure is interesting as you’re introduced to Sam and Ari as teenagers, which provides their relationship with a sweet innocence as you see them doing things such as passing notes in class. This sets the stage for drama and suspense as the two are pulled in different directions, effectively keeping you on the edge of your seat. Red City is a contemporary fantasy with action, drama, and Alchemy, as each addictive chapter leads to a thrilling conclusion.


Jill Is Not Happy

I wanted to scream every second of reading this book. Kaira Rouda does it again in Jill is Not Happy. The book is written from the points of view of a married couple, Jack and Jill. Some of the chapters are present day and some take readers back to the couple's college years when Jack's best friend, Ted, is killed.

From the getgo, we know that Jill is a horrible person. She's manipulative, a thief, and worst of all, has no problem with murder. Jack, on the other hand, realizes his big mistake in marrying Jill and doesn't know how to get himself out of it. The topper on the cake is that Jill keeps a notebook journal. In it, she writes everything of importance that has happened in the couple's lives. The twist? She writes bad things about Jack and good things about herself even though they're not true. The fact that Jill is so evil and Jack is so stupid is what makes this book painful, but good. Jill is Not Happy kept me engaged from cover to cover.


Exiles

Who hasn’t dreamed of one day traveling to Mars and being part of the first people to settle on the red planet? Well, what if there were just three of you in a tight space and as you're about to land, things go terribly wrong?

They’ve gone through rigorous training, and they’ve been carefully hand-selected to work perfectly together. Except they’re all awoken from stasis, and something has gone wrong. They’ve lost communication with the robots down on the planet who have been building their new home for the last six months. After they finally get inside, because the door code was mysteriously changed, they find one of the three robots has gone AWOL, while the other two appear to be developing human characteristics and emotions. There’s also supposedly some sort of alien creature on the outside attacking the habitat.

The late Mason Coile (true name Andrew Pyper) has penned a gripping locked-room mystery that will have readers on the edge of their seats, as they wonder how the new Martian residents are going to deal with their serious robot problem, as well as keep themselves alive.


The Gallery Assistant: A Novel

I was a bit disappointed in this book as it was very slow-paced and the main character was a bit of a twat. The Gallery Assistant brings us back to the year of 9/11 and its immediate aftermath. The author uses this event as a point of reference throughout the book, and the main character reveals what she was doing on that day towards the end of the story. Chloe Harlow is a hot mess. When a newly signed artist ends up dead, Chloe knows she was one of the last people to see the artist. The problem is, Chloe doesn't remember what happened that night. When her boss, Lou, disappears, the gallery owners tell Chloe it was a mutual decision. The problem is, Lou is nowhere to be found. Chloe starts digging deeper into the night the artist was murdered, finding out that some of the people in her life are not exactly forthcoming in their endeavors.

I wanted to like this book because the story was rather good, but the main character was annoying and made bad decisions and the middle of the book dragged on endlessly.


Peggy Goes for a Walk

This is a simple little story that is beautifully illustrated. Our heroine, little Peggy, gets her Grandfather to go for a walk. Peggy is a bundle of activity as she skips along, intent on investigation and play. Grandfather lags behind; he is old, after all. Soon, rain threatens, but Peggy has found a puddle for splashing. Soon Peggy is tired out and must be carried home in Grandpa’s arms. This book provides a lovely little outing that is sure to delight.

The author holds a Master's in children’s illustration, which is certainly demonstrated in this charming book, suitable for young children, especially on a rainy day. This is also a nice story for parents who find that the walk may require a “carry me” request to return.


Growing Papaya Trees: Nurturing Indigenous Roots During Climate Displacement

Jessica Hernandez’s Growing Papaya Trees is a bold and thought-provoking follow-up to her acclaimed debut, Fresh Banana Leaves. In this new work, Hernandez—an environmental scientist of Binnizá and Maya Ch’orti’ heritage—offers an inspiring vision of how Indigenous science, identity, and resilience can guide us toward more just and sustainable responses to the climate crisis.

The metaphor of the papaya tree is central to the book. Known for its adaptability and ability to thrive in different climates, the papaya tree becomes a symbol of displaced Indigenous peoples who, even far from ancestral lands, continue to cultivate knowledge, culture, and community. Through personal stories of her own uprooting, Hernandez highlights the complexity of Indigenous and Latinx identities and the ways cultural traditions endure despite forced migration and colonization.

Hernandez contrasts Western scientific frameworks—often extractive and profit-driven—with Indigenous approaches that emphasize balance, reciprocity, and care for the earth. Her critiques of “carbon capitalism” and even certain renewable energy projects on Indigenous territories are clear and uncompromising. She shows how initiatives framed as solutions can still perpetuate harm when local communities are excluded from decision-making.

What makes Growing Papaya Trees especially compelling is its blend of scholarship, storytelling, and vision. Her personal connection to the topic adds an authentic and trustworthy voice to the narrative.

Hernandez demonstrates that Indigenous knowledge is sacred and enduring; it is a vital resource for navigating the global ecological crisis and achieving true climate justice.


Schooled

Lenny and his dad, a professor, are moving from New Jersey to Arrington University. They will live in student housing. Lenny’s mother recently died from skin cancer, and Lenny and his dad don’t talk much. Lenny will be attending an experimental school at the university with four other kids. They will be taught by a group of professors and will have a lot of freedom to choose what they study while visiting college classes. Lenny becomes friends with an elderly professor, visits his class, and is entranced. When the professor stops coming to class, Lenny needs his dad’s help to find out what happened. It’s hard for them both. Can they find a way to work together?

Author Jamie Sumner has written an interesting story that has a premise that is quite hard to believe, although maybe young readers won’t be stopped by that. In fact, the brightest students will likely love this story. The characters are well-rounded and believable, and the problems they are presented with are challenging and interesting. The writing is very good, and the dialogue reads perfectly for the ages of the characters. This should find a good audience with mature middle-graders.


Believe Me Now: A Novel

Ten years ago, Natalie Campbell was assaulted by her boss, who was found not guilty. As a result, Natalie developed PTSD, causing her to blackout and lose time. Natalie received threatening letters after the trial, and no one believed her, causing her to move and attempt to start over. Her husband, Ryan, was her main support until he was accused of the same crime. The woman who accuses him is found murdered near their home, and now Natalie doesn’t know what to believe. When the letters start up again, Natalie thinks maybe her husband is being framed. Believe Me Now is all she can hope for.

I really enjoyed this book. There is a lot of swearing, and I’m still not sure how I feel about Ryan. However, there are strong female leads here in Natalie and DI Stratton, even though both women are a bit broken and traumatized. The dual story lines from both of their perspectives added depth. I highly recommend this if you are a fan of mysteries, especially ones that feature plots where you aren’t really sure whom to trust.


Lost in a Book: A Picture Book

Oliver and Chad are adventurous best friends, but their idea to walk through a book proves a bit too hair-raising. As they reach the middle of the book, they discover the dark, scary gutter, the place where pages meet the spine of the book. When they try to leap it, Chad disappears into the gutter. Oliver throws a coil of rope to his friend, but it is too short. Next, he asks some house painters for help, but they slip and fall in with Chad, followed by a group of bicyclists, an entire zoo of escaped animals, and the people searching for the animals. Finally, a librarian suggests that the book’s readers turn the book over and shake it. Surprise! The lost characters appear on the next page, while the boys decide to only read books in the future.

Nationally-syndicated cartoonist Chris Britt has written an imaginative story, although some children may find it hard to conceptualize a book gutter as a deep, dangerous place. Still, Chad’s remarks from inside the gutter and the wide array of people and animals disappearing are quite funny, while the idea of children interacting with the story by shaking the book is clever.


It's Busy Down in the Woods Today: Friends to Meet, Places to Explore, and Over 100 Things to Find (Brown Bear Wood)

Brown Bear Wood is a fun place for children to visit. The opening spread introduces the townsfolk, including Professor Owl (teacher), Mama Deer, Papa Mouse (doctors), and many more. This is followed by a spread about Getting Ready for the Day with a wonderful illustration of the very busy woodland, a poem about morning, and a list of things to find in the illustration. A visit to the Hop in Bunny’s Bakery with lyrical rhyme to explain what goes on there is next. This is the pattern throughout the book, with six spreads for different times of the day and six spreads for different places in the woods.

Poet Rachel Piercey and illustrator Frey Hartas have built quite a franchise with their Brown Bear Wood books. This is a lovely addition, sure to keep little ones listening to the sweet poetry and searching the gorgeous illustrations for all the details listed. The only nit to pick here is that most of the text is in a common serif font, but words scattered throughout are in a cursive font, so if you have older kids reading to younger ones, it might be a problem.


Death at the Door: A Ruby and Cordelia Mystery (The Ruby and Cordelia Mysteries, 2)

Ruby Young has an unconventional living situation. She was lucky to find a fully furnished apartment in a new city, but the previous owner, Cordelia Graves currently deceased, came with it. Together, they formed a friendship, though communication is sometimes an issue; Ruby can’t imagine her life in Boston without Cordelia. In their short time together, they managed to solve one murder mystery, only to be thrown into another. A big meeting at Ruby’s office turns into a crime scene, and everyone who was at the meeting is a suspect. The police don’t seem to be trying very hard, so Ruby and Cordelia are determined to find out what happened.

Somewhere between a cozy and a crime mystery, this is a fun series with vibrant characters, authentic dialogue, and a well-thought-out plot. The author does a great job of catching readers up, so if you missed the first book in this series, you won’t be lost. However, I do recommend starting with the first book, because it’s great! I normally do not enjoy cliffhangers, but I love this series so much that I can’t wait for the next installment. I would highly recommend this to anyone who loves murder mysteries.


Celebrate Diwali: Recipes, Activities, and Crafts for the Entire Family

In recent years, Diwali—the Hindu Festival of Lights—has captured growing mainstream interest in the U.S. There’s increased recognition of South Asian presence and contributions, and more non-Indians are embracing this vibrant cultural celebration. I picked up Renu Bhardwaj’s book Celebrate Diwali because I wanted to explore the traditions that shape the festival. The delightful book blends recipes, crafts, and family activities to help make the spirit of Diwali come alive. Photos of sumptuous meals and desserts, as well as colorful handmade crafts, help convey the joy and jubilation symbolized in the five-day festivities

I am neither Hindu nor Indian, and I believe the book is perfect for anyone curious to learn or pass along the magic of the holiday. While I am not about to host my own Diwali celebration, I found the recipes for kheer and barfi are straightforward and easy to follow.

Understanding Diwali is a key to Indian culture. Bhardwaj takes the time to provide the needed history and context about the different aspects of the celebration. I imagine this book would be useful for people raising biracial children or second- or later-generation Indian-Americans who want to be more in touch with traditions from the homeland. For all other readers, Celebrate Diwali is a wonderful introduction to the enduring legacy of an ancient story signifying triumph over adversity.


Dying Cry: A Timber Creek K-9 Mystery

Welcome to the tenth Timber Creek mystery. The theme established by author Margaret Mizushima features Deputy Sheriff Mattie, and her K-9 partner, Robo.  As usual, the series has progressed and the main character, Mattie, has recently married Dr. Cole Walker, DVM. The new blended family includes Cole, his daughters Sophie and Angela, Mattie, and of course, Robo, and Cole’s two dogs and a cat!

The family is on a snowshoe outing at a resort not far from their home. A sharp cry echoing off the canyon walls surrounding the resort interrupts their pleasant afternoon. Sophie and Angela immediately speculate on its source, maybe a mountain lion? Mattie quickly morphs from doting stepmother into on duty deputy sheriff.

Fortunately, Robo is with them and ready to assist Mattie in her search for the source of the cry. What follows is a tragic discovery. Was it an accidental but deadly fall? Mattie and Robo pursue every possible cause for the death of Cole’s friend, Tom Murphy. Along the way readers encounter some nasty accusations as to the cause of the fall and, of course a group of greedy villains surfaces to muddle the investigation.

Author Mizushima continues to craft excellent mysteries!


Old MacPumpkin Had a Farm (Reimagined Rhymes)

Old MacPumpkin rolls across her farm on her tractor, pulling a wagon full of pumpkins. On the farm, readers see chickens, a cow, a horse, a sheep, a goat, and a dog, the usual farm animals, but the text gives readers a hint that this might be a bit unusual with a refrain of Eek! Ahh! Eek! Ahh! and Ohhh!, rather than the familiar one kids will expect. On her farm, Old MacPumpkin has a black cat with yellow eyes. Hmmm. That’s not too strange. The next turn shows a spider on the farm. That’s pretty normal. Then we see a bat. Not unheard of on a farm. But a SKELETON driving the tractor? That’s strange. And things just get stranger as readers visit this very Halloweeny farm.

Author Katrina Charman has written a cute text perfect for reading on cool autumn evenings leading up to Halloween. The real star of the show, though, is the charming illustrations by Georgie Birkett. She uses bright primary colors that she cleverly darkens as the book becomes scarier (it is not too scary for little listeners, though), perfectly suiting the mood of the story. This is a fun fall read for the littlest of listeners.


Beach Reads and Deadly Deeds: A Novel

Mia Crawford isn't one to take vacations alone. Yet that is just what she's done, thanks to her boss, who sent her to a resort island to relax before a major promotion. While there, she discovers a book perfect for reading on the beach. But just as she learns another guest on the island has disappeared, she discovers her book is full of cryptic messages.  Could they be about or from the missing woman? Mia isn't sure, but she would like to find out. But first, she might have to make time for a handsome bartender flirting with her. As her holiday progresses, Mia begins to suspect she might be in danger. Will she be able to unravel the real-life mystery before the end of her vacation?

Beach Reads and Deadly Deeds is a fun book to take along to the beach or enjoy at home if you can't manage to get away. It's full of interesting characters, a little romance, and a mystery waiting to be solved.


When Autumn Comes (My Favorite Season)

In When Autumn Comes, a little girl goes outside to explore the beauty of the season. First, she tries to catch the colorful, swirling fall leaves and collects a pine cone, an acorn, and a spiky chestnut. Next, she says goodnight to a groundhog who is going to hibernate and waves goodbye to the birds migrating south for the winter. The little girl helps her mother pick the best pumpkins in the patch and helps her dad rake leaves. Together, all three pick apples. Once inside, the family eats a delicious soup and an apple pie, then plays games while the wind picks up outside.

This small but beautiful book is a gentle, lovely introduction to the season of autumn and its special aspects. The illustrations are simple and reflect the colors of the season. As a bonus, this book ends with two pages of objects for little readers to find in the story. This book could provide either a wonderful opening or a perfect closing to a day spent exploring the delights of fall.


Cosmo Park

Meet Kara, who follows her cat, Sandro, into a planetarium. Kara and Sandro, along with Professor Rubin, accidentally get zapped through a space portal to a science theme park on another planet called Sagbia. The three of them go on an adventure filled with buggy rides, gravity rooms, blast zones, and snottites to evade the evil Mr. Grant from stealing the transporter device. Can they make it back to Earth, or will they be stuck on Sagbia forever?

Cosmo Park was an interesting read, but it wasn’t my favorite. The book lost me a little with all the science facts jammed into a pretty short graphic novel. Some parts didn’t really grab me, and I found myself losing interest a few times. The art was cool and colorful, and I liked the idea, but I wish it wasn’t so heavy on the science and focused more on an engaging storyline and characters.

I liked how educational the book was—it actually explains space facts like gravity, black holes, atoms, and the end of the universe in a way that’s easy to understand. I definitely learned a few science facts. I’d still recommend it to people who love science and graphic novels.


Her First Mistake (Noelle Marshall)

Her First Mistake by Kendra Elliot is one of Detective Noelle Marshall's origin stories. Before she became a detective, she was a bartender who then married a wealthy politician. This is the story about how that politician, Derrick Bell, was murdered in his own home.

What I really enjoyed about this book is the way the author developed Noelle's character as if the reader didn't know who she was. This allowed the reader to understand Noelle's family background and the struggles she had before she became a detective. The character of Derrick Bell is your stereotypical handsome, wealthy guy who becomes a complete jerk after Noelle marries him. As we see their relationship start to fall apart, Noelle is faced with the decision of whether to stay with her husband or not. When he's murdered, she, of course, becomes the number one suspect.

Although the book started strong with excellent character development and clues as to who could have murdered Derrick, I found myself getting bored as the case became cold. Then, I felt that I was thrown back into the story, and all of a sudden, the killer is revealed. The book is messy at the end, and I wish the author had chosen a different route for the reveal.


The Ex-Girlfriend Murder Club: A Feminist Murder Mystery of Three Women Teaming Up to Solve a Crime and Get Revenge on a Cheating Ex (A Hu Done It Mystery, 1)

Kathryn Hu’s Laws of Luck knew something like this would happen. Just as she thought she found the man of her dreams, she finds out she’s not the only woman in his life. She teams up with Elle and Olivia to enact a plan of revenge by setting up pranks around his apartment. But their grand plan goes horribly wrong when they find his body in the closet. Now they must work together to prove their innocence and find the real killer.

The unique premise of ex-girlfriends banding together creates a landscape for hijinks, plot twists, and humor. This could easily be a story founded on cattiness, but Chao’s characters are three strong women who find solace, understanding, and friendship with one another. The mystery is rooted in female empowerment and the concept of women lifting up each other. The story provides space for the characters to be themselves and find what they’ve been missing, which is so lovely to see represented. Chao does a splendid job of blending fun and heart, knowing when to make scenes playful and when to be genuine. The Ex-Girlfriend Murder Club features strong female leads, tongue-in-cheek humor, identity, revenge schemes, and murder, which are done with the highest form of comedy and cleverness.


The Free State of Jax

To escape his aunt and uncle and their bullies (otherwise known as children), Jax establishes a micronation to be free of their tyranny.  The first step: a raft in the lake next door that he’ll acquire through eminent domain. He worries that Mr O’Keefe, accused of stealing money from the town and killing his own brother nine years earlier, will not be happy, but Jax has to do something. Sure, the police come, the Grimmitz’s lawyer visits, and Mr. O’Keefe has words, but at least his words usually include a bowl of stew or a plate of tacos. The local kids are excited about his micronation - they’re happy to clean up if it means swimming in the lake. However, there’s more at stake here than simply a bit of land and foster care payments.

A modern-day Pete’s Dragon, Jax is creative, adorable, and quick on his feet, and his hopefulness in the face of his helplessness is uplifting. So much is happening in this heartfelt story, but Nielsen weaves it together like the magician she is. Readers will love Jax as much as Sage (The False Prince) and Nic (Mark of the Thief) in this first contemporary novel.


Israel, a Personal History: A Personal History

Swedish author and journalist Goran Rosenberg is a fearlessly straightforward writer. A Personal History of Israel demands open-minded readers. First published almost a generation ago, and supplemented after the October 7 onslaught, this is a singularly compelling memoir, an account of views and perceptions turned upside down.

As a teenager, Rosenberg, the son of Holocaust survivors, migrated to Israel with his family in 1962. Perhaps it is an exaggeration to say Rosenberg was euphoric, but barely so. Seemingly, he admired everything about the young country. Over the decades, with maturity and Middle East upheavals, his idealism largely evaporated.

Rosenberg is not a household name, although he may become one on the strength of this brilliant appraisal of Israel's political path. The actions of early and current politicians reveal how the author's hopes were dashed.

Each of Israel's luminaries is closely profiled. Is the author's view one-sided? Of course. He admired some and denigrated others, though never without adequate reasoning.
Now his dreams are nightmares. Occasional light and witty touches are refreshing and endearing, unexpected back story capsules. No matter your religion or even political leaning, this book awaits your appraisal.


Yelp! Yeti! Chaos in Kathmandu

Meet Dev. Dev is excited to spend his summer in Kathmandu, relaxing and playing all summer long. However, Dev sees a Yeti on the loose and tries to tell his family, but no one believes him. The Yeti is making huge messes in his house, and everyone is blaming Dev! Dev needs to catch the Yeti, and quick, or else he will be sent away to his strict Aunt’s house.

I liked how the story was fun and cheerful, and I liked the bright colors, detailed backgrounds, and cute characters in the art! I thought Tuna, Dev’s cat, was adorable and silly. Personally, I think the book was a little simple for me, but I think it would be a great book for kids. The story flowed very well, not too fast and not too slow. My favorite character was Joon because I thought she was funny. I recommend this book to kids who like short, fun stories and, of course, Yetis!


On My Father's Watch

Jack J. Amstel’s On My Father’s Watch is a compelling literary thriller that weaves personal loss, criminal intrigue, and generational secrets into a story as intelligent as it is emotionally resonant. Set primarily in Amsterdam, the narrative follows Teddy Deweyer, a civil engineering student whose godfather—an enigmatic, powerful figure known as Sjon—is gunned down in broad daylight. This murder reawakens the mystery of Teddy’s own father’s disappearance a decade prior and plunges him into an investigation that stretches across borders and decades.

Amstel structures the novel with remarkable efficiency and emotional depth. From the opening confrontation between Dirk and Sjon to the climactic scenes in Zurich, every chapter builds momentum. The dialogue is sharp and authentic, whether it’s the coded exchanges between men entrenched in gray morality or the more intimate conversations between Teddy and his family. The author’s ability to blend fast-paced action with introspective reflection gives the novel a satisfying balance rarely seen in modern thrillers.

One of the strengths of the book is how it uses Amsterdam not just as a setting, but as a character in itself. From the city’s affluent Zuid district to its criminal underbelly, the landscape reflects the duality of its inhabitants. The story tackles heavy themes—family loyalty, identity, legacy, and morality in business—but does so without moralizing. The characters, particularly Dirk and Sjon, are portrayed with nuance and depth. Sjon’s criminal activities are never glorified, yet his affection for Teddy and Anita adds complexity that makes his eventual murder deeply impactful.

What elevates On My Father’s Watch is the emotional throughline provided by Teddy. His narration carries both the dispassionate logic of an engineer and the aching vulnerability of a son searching for answers. As he tells Marella, “There was this curtain between Before and After... the After never quite came into the light.” Amstel is adept at showing how grief calcifies over time, becoming something a person can live with, but never truly escape.

Amstel’s style is brisk but literary, accessible yet rich with detail. Readers of John le Carré or Donna Leon will find much to admire in this sleek yet thoughtful crime novel. While the ending leaves threads for a possible continuation, it’s a satisfying conclusion that honors the emotional stakes laid from the beginning. A standout thriller that manages to entertain, provoke, and move in equal measure.


On My Father's Watch: Is Knowing The Truth Always Better?

Jack J. Amstel’s On My Father’s Watch is one of those rare thrillers that balances suspense with deep emotional exploration. While it opens with the flavor of a classic crime mystery—smoke-filled rooms, shady inheritances, and ominous silence, it gradually evolves into something more thoughtful: a portrait of a young man trying to piece together a past that never made sense.

Teddy Deweyer, the narrator, is a likable, grounded voice. He doesn’t posture as a hero, which is refreshing. Instead, he processes his world with a mix of pragmatism and wonder, especially when confronted with the disappearance of his father, Dirk, and the assassination of his godfather, Sjon. The novel doesn’t give us easy answers, and that’s part of its charm. Amstel respects the reader enough to let the silences speak volumes.

One of the strongest themes throughout the novel is how personal history is shaped by what isn’t said. Teddy grew up with questions he was never encouraged to ask—and as readers, we begin to see how those questions become ghosts in the background of every chapter. As he says, “There was this curtain between Before and After,” and Amstel uses that metaphor to explore grief, maturity, and the search for meaning in the aftermath of loss.

The women in this novel, particularly Anita and Marella, offer a much-needed counterbalance. Anita is elegant and emotionally opaque, holding back key truths until the timing is right. Marella, a coach and medical student, gives the narrative emotional texture and a contemporary lens. Her presence alongside Teddy during his impromptu trip to Switzerland adds levity and depth. Their conversations aren’t just flirtatious—they push Teddy to confront questions he’s buried. “Are you just going to mope through life never knowing what really happened?” she challenges him, and that one line captures the emotional propulsion behind the story’s second half.

Amstel excels at painting the texture of family life, particularly in Amsterdam. Aunt Pet, the housekeeper-turned-family anchor, is an understated yet essential presence. So is young Justin, Teddy’s cousin, who becomes both comic relief and a symbol of continuity. These quieter moments, such as sandwiches at the Artis Zoo or awkward family dinners, provide a welcome rhythm between the more cinematic plot points.

Even side characters have a distinct presence. Uncle Jim is a perpetual sleaze, clearly included to highlight what proper family support should not look like, but he’s also a foil to Sjon’s over-the-top, yet genuine, care for Teddy. Sjon’s role is particularly fascinating. A man tied to alleged criminal networks, he is also a godfather in the truest sense: present, generous, and consistent. That dichotomy, crime lord vs. caretaker, is one that the novel explores with subtlety and restraint.

This isn’t just a crime novel. It’s a book about identity, about how the stories we inherit shape who we become. It’s about what we choose to believe in the absence of truth. “Do you look like him?” Marella asks Teddy. That deceptively simple question echoes through the novel’s quieter moments, revealing how memory, loss, and love entwine across generations.

On My Father’s Watch has done something rare for a thriller: it’s left me thinking not just about what happened, but about what it means to be the child of someone who disappears, whether literally or emotionally. It is a gripping, thoughtful, and ultimately satisfying read.


On My Father’s Watch is a thriller, yes, but it’s also a beautiful coming-of-age story wrapped in intrigue and heartache. Jack J. Amstel has written a novel full of secrets, slow revelations, and surprisingly touching moments. It starts with a murder and a mystery, but where it really shines is in the relationships and the emotional growth of its narrator, Teddy Deweyer.

Teddy’s voice is instantly relatable. He’s smart, self-deprecating, and just vulnerable enough to pull you in. One minute he’s recalling oatmeal breakfasts with his dad, the next he’s careening through the Swiss Alps chasing answers about a father who vanished without a trace. It’s these juxtapositions, memory and momentum, grief and discovery, that give the book its emotional punch.

Themes of family, loyalty, and what it means to grow up without closure are everywhere. Sjon, Teddy’s godfather, is larger than life, a mix of shady entrepreneur and devoted surrogate parent. When he’s killed, everything starts to unravel. As Teddy puts it, “We weren’t a normal family anymore,” and that line lingers.

But it’s not all heavy. The book has a lot of heart and humor, especially when Teddy is hanging out with Justin, his twelve-year-old cousin, who delivers some of the funniest lines in the book. (“My dad says golf is work too.”) Or when Marella, a feisty former classmate turned medical student, reappears in Teddy’s life and completely flips his trajectory. Their dynamic is filled with flirtation, banter, and genuine connection.

One of my favorite parts is when Teddy and Marella go to the Artis Zoo with Justin. It’s sweet, nostalgic, and subtly sets the tone for everything that follows. The moment when Teddy blurts out an invitation to go skiing together in Switzerland is spontaneous and oddly romantic, and when Marella accepts, it feels like a pivotal moment for both of them. That trip becomes the emotional center of the book.

There’s something charming about how much of the story unfolds through everyday moments, dinners with family, a funeral filled with gangsters and football fans, and awkward conversations at student houses. These are real, textured settings that make the stakes feel more intimate. Even when Teddy is piecing together secrets involving international banking and long-lost friends of his father, the heart of the story remains focused on love, loss, and the families we build for ourselves.

The writing style is crisp, witty, and full of great observational details. When Marella watches Teddy interact with Justin, she notices the way he points things out, how the two boys, though years apart, mirror each other. That kind of quiet insight is what makes this book feel special.

Amstel has created a novel that’s both a gripping mystery and a moving exploration of family. It’s about finding your footing in a world shaped by other people’s decisions, and learning to ask the questions that scare you the most. It’s about the power of chosen family, the weight of memory, and how sometimes, the truth is the only thing that can set you free—even if it changes everything.

Whether you're into mysteries or love character-driven stories with heart and humor, On My Father’s Watch delivers. It’s not just about what happened—it’s about what we do next.


Annie in Retrospect

"Annie in Retrospect is a heartfelt exploration of love, loss, and the turbulent journey of self-discovery in early adulthood. Kristina Voegele deftly captures the emotional complexity of a young woman navigating the aftermath of a painful breakup, career uncertainty, and the evolving dynamics of friendship. Anchored by the wise and irreverent voice of her Nonna, Annie’s story is infused with warmth, humor, and a deep sense of authenticity. With sharp dialogue and poignant reflection, this novel is both a relatable coming-of-age tale and a tribute to resilience in the face of growing pains." —Samantha Olsen, San Francisco Book Review


Artistic and Life-like: Photography in Washington, 1850-1900

Tim Greyhavens' Artistic and Life-Like is a masterclass in historical storytelling, grounded in meticulous research and an unmistakable reverence for early photography. Spanning the years 1850 to 1900, this compelling volume explores the evolution of photography in Washington State, not just as a technical or artistic medium, but as a cultural force that shaped and reflected the region’s identity. For readers interested in the intersection of technology, art, and history, this book is a treasure trove.

Greyhavens opens with a powerful premise: photographs are not just records of people and places. They serve as visual evidence, prompts for deeper inquiry, and often represent the only connection we have to a forgotten past. “Photographs cannot tell stories. They can only provide evidence of stories…an invitation to look more closely, and to ask questions,” he quotes Phillip Gourevitch, setting the tone for the chapters that follow. This thematic through-line, of photography as both artifact and interpretation, gives the book a thoughtful and often philosophical edge.

What sets this work apart is its dual commitment to narrative and scholarship. The book is beautifully organized, with each chapter beginning with a carefully chosen photograph that illustrates a broader historical or thematic point. Greyhavens weaves personal anecdotes, such as the charming (if possibly apocryphal) elopement story of Christopher and Asenath Simmons, with broader discussions on the technical challenges early photographers faced, such as the painstaking process of creating daguerreotypes or tintypes. These stories humanize the technology and ground it in a lived, local reality.

The themes explored are far-reaching: the shifting identity of Washington State, the clash between settler expansion and Native sovereignty, and the transition from viewing photographs as scientific marvels to everyday social currency. One standout chapter delves into the representation of Native Peoples, where Greyhavens is careful to acknowledge his own biases and the fraught legacy of early ethnographic photography. Rather than rehashing trauma, he highlights nuanced portraits that reflect both artistry and complexity, stating, “I have aspired to provide a cross-section of images that illustrate the range of early northwest photographers’ attitudes and skills when they pictured Native Peoples.”

Another compelling section discusses how portrait photography became democratized, with studios popping up across the territory to meet the growing demand for “likenesses.” The book also highlights the role of women in early photography, mentioning figures such as Charlotte Prosch, one of the first women photographers in America.

The tone throughout is approachable without sacrificing depth. Greyhavens has a knack for translating archival rigor into engaging prose. He doesn’t just document facts; he frames them, much like the photographers he profiles, with an eye toward composition and meaning. His commentary on specific images is particularly effective. When describing a photograph of Kelly Town framed by dead trees and smoke, he notes how it encapsulates “what was happening to accommodate the growth of Washington," a perfect blend of poetic insight and historical analysis.

In sum, Artistic and Life-Like is more than a regional history or photographic survey; it’s a meditation on how we remember, what we preserve, and who gets to be seen. Whether you’re a historian, a photography enthusiast, or a casual reader curious about Washington’s past, this book delivers both substance and soul.


Tim Greyhavens’ Artistic and Life-Like is a deeply engaging, expertly researched examination of early photography in Washington State. Focused on the years 1850 to 1900, the book offers more than just a history of photographic technology; it provides a lens through which we can better understand the formation of Washington’s cultural identity and the individuals who shaped it. This is a thoughtful, layered exploration of how photography both reflected and influenced life in a rapidly changing corner of the American West.

Structured around key themes such as settlement, indigenous representation, technological evolution, portraiture, and landscape transformation, this book balances narrative depth with visual richness.

Greyhavens writes with clarity and care, never allowing technical detail to overwhelm the human stories behind the lens. As he notes early in the book, “photography… occupies an oversized place in our memories,” a statement that resonates through every page. Greyhavens has done an admirable job curating over 300 historical photographs, most of them rarely seen, to trace the medium’s development in the region from its earliest appearances in the 1850s through the dawn of the 20th century.

I was particularly moved by the portrait of James Offutt with a bundle of hops, taken between 1860 and 1870. The image is arresting in its simplicity: a man standing with a large crop bundle. However, with the context Greyhavens provides, it becomes a testament to agriculture, labor, and Black presence in early Washington. It’s these kinds of images, not widely known or often discussed, that lend the book its distinctive power.

The author also takes care to highlight the overlooked contributions of early women photographers. Charlotte Prosch, for instance, is credited as one of the first women in the United States to open a daguerreotype gallery. Her business in Newark, New Jersey, and later competition with her brother George, illustrates how women found opportunity in this emerging field. Though she eventually disappears from the historical record, Greyhavens restores a measure of visibility to her story.

Another highlight is the atmospheric photograph of Fort Vancouver taken in 1860. The foggy stillness of the Columbia River and stark military lines of the post combine to convey a mood of both transition and tension. In Greyhavens’ hands, this image is not just documentation but narrative. He uses these scenes to pose broader questions about what we see in photographs and what remains hidden. His commentary echoes John Berger’s assertion that “the relationship between what we see and what we know is never settled.”

Greyhavens also devotes a section to the popularization of portrait photography, noting how even small towns across the territory had photography studios by the 1880s.

Overall, Artistic and Life-Like is an illuminating and indispensable contribution to the historical canon of the Pacific Northwest. It is more than a catalog of old photographs. It is an invitation to see the past with new eyes, to question what we think we know, and to honor the anonymous and known photographers whose images have shaped our collective memory.


Mary Whitcombe

Valerie Nifora’s Mary Whitcombe is a deeply emotional, richly rendered historical novel that explores the resilience of the human spirit in the face of grief, displacement, and the search for belonging. Told in the lyrical voice of Mary herself, the story unfolds like a memoir written in hindsight, filled with aching memories and poignant reflections. It’s a novel that stays with you long after the final page, quietly profound in its exploration of love, loss, and the endurance of hope.

From the opening line—“I remember very little of my childhood. I was so young when my world was torn apart”—we are invited into Mary’s intimate recollections. Orphaned at a tender age, Mary is thrust into a life of uncertainty and loneliness. The warm memory of her parents—a mother with “emerald green” eyes and a father who declared he would “fly like Hermes”—stands in heartbreaking contrast to the bleak world she soon inhabits.

Nifora handles the emotional territory with grace. One of the book’s most enduring relationships is between Mary and Sister Ann, a nun who becomes not only Mary’s caretaker but a maternal anchor. Their bond is lovingly written. Sister Ann’s gentle strength and artistic heart serve as a lifeline for Mary: “Remember, Mary, you are not alone, and I will always be here.” That promise—repeated like a prayer—forms the emotional backbone of the story.

Themes of abandonment, found family, and spiritual identity run throughout the book. Mary’s time in the convent is not just a refuge but a crucible. She grows intellectually and emotionally under the tutelage of remarkable women—Sister Maxine the healer, Sister Francis the archer, and Mother Superior, whose stern pragmatism hides a measure of compassion. The convent becomes a surrogate home, yet Mary never stops wondering about the life she lost—and the one she might still have.

The narrative deepens when Mary meets Marco, a young Italian gardener whose warmth and vitality contrast starkly with the cloistered world she knows. Their friendship blossoms into something more tender and uncertain. Marco becomes both muse and heartbreak. “You know you love someone, Mary, when thinking about them, even though they are gone, still makes you happy,” Sister Ann once tells her—a sentiment that reverberates throughout Mary’s coming-of-age.

Nifora excels at capturing the small details that evoke a vanished world: the scent of lavender and beeswax in the convent, the sea-spray at the shore, the rustling of convent skirts in candlelight. Her prose is elegant and accessible, infused with a warmth that doesn’t shy away from melancholy. “I have spent the majority of my life as a castaway,” Mary says. Yet what unfolds is a story of reclamation—of agency, identity, and ultimately, hope.

In Mary Whitcombe, Valerie Nifora delivers a timeless tale of a girl growing into herself amid the ruins of loss. It’s a story of quiet courage, rendered with compassion and care. A must-read for fans of historical fiction with emotional depth.


The Hatbox Letter: Based on a True Tale of a Lost Love

Laura LeMond’s The Hatbox Letter is a touching, richly atmospheric historical novel inspired by true events, chronicling a forgotten love story nestled within the broader tapestry of early 20th-century American life. At its heart is Gladys Charlesworth, a curious, creative, and fiercely independent young woman whose discovery of a letter hidden away in an old hatbox sets the stage for a sweeping narrative of romance, cultural conflict, and personal growth. The result is a delicately balanced blend of historical authenticity, familial homage, and quiet feminist commentary.

Set primarily in St. Joseph, Missouri, beginning in 1916, the story unfolds with careful period detail that immerses the reader in the sights, sounds, and social norms of the time. From starched linen dresses and Sunday roasts to fig harvests and gossip in small-town streets, LeMond deftly conjures the rhythms of domestic life. Yet, within this genteel structure, the novel challenges the boundaries placed on young women through its protagonist, Gladys, who dreams of returning to Chicago to start her own fashion line. A devotee of Coco Chanel, Gladys becomes a symbol of modern womanhood at odds with the expectations of marriage and motherhood that dominate her world.

Themes of love across cultural divides play a central role, as Gladys falls for Johnny Fry, a half-Cree, introspective, and bookish young man who lives between two worlds. Their relationship is tender, cautious, and full of quiet gestures. LeMond handles their cultural differences with nuance, highlighting both Johnny’s internal struggle with identity and the external pressures of a society not yet ready to embrace mixed-heritage romances. Johnny’s spiritual reflections and measured actions, shaped by his Native upbringing and small-town ostracism, are particularly poignant.

The book is as much about individual longing as it is about societal change. With World War I looming, technological advancements such as the automobile and shifting gender norms challenged the status quo. Gladys’ ambition and Johnny’s intellectual hunger stand in contrast to the expectations of their families and the gossip of their community. Their love is a quiet rebellion. In that sense, the title, a simple hatbox containing a letter, becomes a metaphor for all that is hidden or constrained by time, propriety, and silence.

Family plays an essential role, too. LeMond’s depiction of the Charlesworth clan is warm, familiar, and grounded in the author’s own lineage. The story is dedicated to her grandparents, and that personal touch shines through. Emma and Earl, Gladys’s English immigrant parents, are vivid characters in their own right, lovingly portrayed as keepers of tradition while also, at times, unwittingly becoming barriers to their daughter’s self-determination.

LeMond’s prose is clean and evocative, with an eye for emotional subtlety. The dialogue feels genuine, particularly between Gladys and her brother, Harry, whose close sibling relationship adds levity and depth. The pace is patient but never dragging, rewarding the reader with rich character development and an eventual emotional payoff that feels earned.

Themes of legacy, identity, resilience, and the constraints of societal roles resonate throughout. The Hatbox Letter is more than a love story—it’s a tribute to the lost voices of the past and a reminder that sometimes the most radical thing a woman can do is choose her own path. A quietly powerful and beautifully rendered debut.


Artistic and LIfe-Like: Photography in Washington, 1850-1900

Tim Greyhavens’ Artistic and Life-Like is more than just a survey of old photographs. It’s a deeply researched, visually rich history of photography as it unfolded across Washington during the second half of the 19th century. As someone who’s casually interested in history and seriously into photography, this book hit a sweet spot. Greyhavens manages to make something that could easily feel dusty or academic into an engaging read filled with character, stories, and surprisingly modern questions about identity, representation, and the power of the image.

The book is organized both chronologically and thematically, moving from the arrival of early daguerreotypists to the turn of the 20th century, when photography began to become more democratized and widespread. One of the highlights is the way Greyhavens uses individual photographers' stories to illustrate broader historical shifts. For example, his account of George Prosch, possibly the maker of the first daguerreotype camera in America, isn’t just about innovation, but also family legacy. Prosch’s siblings and descendants later migrated west, becoming deeply entwined with the early development of media and photography in Washington. “Here Shall the Press the People’s Rights Proclaim, Unawed by Influence and Unbribed by Gain,” reads the motto of Thomas Prosch’s Pacific Tribune, a perfect snapshot (pun intended) of the blend of idealism and ambition that characterized many of these early image-makers.

Greyhavens also excels at contextualizing the photos. He points out, for instance, how early portraits were often perceived as “life-like” mirrors of reality, even though they were frequently hand-colored or stylized. In discussing an 1867 Walla Walla advertisement that promoted “Artistic and Life-Like” images, Greyhavens writes, “They wanted art, or at least something that passed for it, and the best photographers were more than happy to oblige them.” That phrase captures the tension between truth and interpretation that runs through the entire book.

One of the most striking examples is a pair of portraits of Christopher Columbus Simmons and Asenath Ann Kennedy Simmons. In the two images, you see the same couple in different poses and outfits, yet the real story unfolds in the text beside them. They eloped when she was just fourteen, and a cheeky family legend claims she put “18” on pieces of paper in her shoes so she could truthfully claim she was “standing on eighteen” when asked her age by the officiating reverend. It’s both humorous and unsettling, and it shows how Greyhavens doesn’t shy away from the weirdness of the past.

The chapter on Native representation is especially thoughtful. Greyhavens acknowledges his own cultural biases and takes care not to speak over or for Native communities. Instead, he presents early images of Native people with an eye toward their historical context. Many were created through exploitative or staged situations, but others offer glimpses of resilience and presence.

Visually, the book is stunning. High-quality reproductions fill every chapter. I found myself returning again and again to “An Experiment, The Artist Alone in his Studio” (ca. 1888) and the image of George Moore’s photograph of the Seattle Intelligencer Building (1875). These aren’t just historical documents, they’re art.

Overall, Artistic and Life-Like is an impressive mix of storytelling, scholarship, and visual history. It’s the kind of book you’ll want to leave out on the coffee table, but you’ll also find yourself actually reading, not just flipping through. If you’re into photography, history, or the Pacific Northwest, this book is absolutely worth your time.


The Champagne Crush: A Romance Novel

"Pop the cork on this sparkling romance where champagne dreams and career schemes collide in the vineyards of Napa and the glamour of New York. Catherine Reynolds is ready to reinvent herself, but a flirty CEO, fizzing ambition, and a splash of betrayal shake up her plans. From vineyard drama to high-stakes PR, love and bubbles rise to the top. Perfect for fans of witty banter, slow-burn tension, and second chances with a twist." —Kathryn Dare, Los Angeles Book Review


To Save a Life

Larry Zuckerman’s To Save a Life is a sweeping, intimate, and vividly rendered novel that transports readers to early 20th-century New York through the lens of Jewish immigrants grappling with trauma, reinvention, and the elusive promise of freedom. In this richly historical tale, we follow two unforgettable characters, Malka Kaminsky and Yaakov Rogovin, as they struggle to build new lives amid sweatshop labor, ethnic tension, and the ever-present haunt of their pasts.

Malka is introduced to us as a newly arrived immigrant, having stolen her dowry and fled an arranged marriage in Grodno. Her early days in America are not filled with wonder but fear, uncertainty, and the gnawing guilt of what she left behind. "Her past, though, was nobody’s business," the narrator tells us, "but Aunt Leah would also remind Malka that the thicket in which she’d tried to hide back in Grodno didn’t exist in Manhattan, and she’d have to show herself." Her character embodies themes of female agency, sacrifice, and the often conflicting definitions of survival and dignity.

When Malka joins a strike at the Kipnis Shirtwaist Company, a vivid moment of solidarity and terror erupts. In a harrowing, cinematic scene, thugs attack the strikers while the police look on. It’s here that she meets Yaakov Rogovin, a fellow Russian Jew whose quick action saves her from a violent fate. This encounter marks the beginning of a fragile but powerful connection between two people shaped by trauma and tenacity. Their evolving bond underpins one of the book’s most poignant themes: how kindness and resilience can crack the shell of isolation and shame.

Zuckerman’s prose is elegant yet accessible, suffused with empathy and historically grounded detail. The Lower East Side tenements come alive with the smells of garlic and coal smoke; sweatshops hiss with steam and echo with overworked laborers’ sighs. The setting isn’t just backdrop—it’s a character in itself, pressing against Malka and Yaakov as much as any antagonist.

Aunt Leah, Malka’s fierce and compassionate aunt, offers a foil to the more conservative and constrained figures of Malka’s past. Through Leah, the novel explores generational differences in how women claim autonomy and navigate loyalty to family and tradition. One particularly resonant scene involves Leah urging Malka to write home: “A girl who pickets can write a letter,” she says, with both tenderness and command.

Themes of identity, shame, faith, and justice run through the novel like a current. Malka’s guilt over leaving her family and stealing her dowry lingers like an open wound. Yet her strength and moral compass—evident in her defense of a wounded coworker and her refusal to stay silent—anchor her as one of the most compelling heroines in recent historical fiction.

To Save a Life ultimately lives up to its name—not just in literal rescues, but in how it portrays the salvaging of dignity, truth, and human connection amid despair. As Yaakov muses about his anonymous, grueling labor: “One day he’d become vapor, and nobody would ever know or care that Yaakov Rogovin had lived or died.” But this novel ensures otherwise. Through Zuckerman’s deft, heartfelt storytelling, we remember him—and Malka—long after the final page.

This is a novel for anyone who has ever felt the weight of their past and still dared to reach for something better.


North Country

To read Matt Bondurant is to make a commitment to the world of the novel. The setting is always rich, the cast of characters extensive, and their motivations deep and complex. Still, it's worth every minute to get to experience a ride like North Country.

Tom Kaiser returns to North Chazy, New York, to try to put his life back together after a dishonorable discharge from the Air Force. His return isn't celebrated by anyone save, perhaps, his father, whose ailing health prevents him from doing much. The two men share a love of radio surveillance, but the family tragedy that struck when Kaiser was a kid keeps them from growing closer.

Needing money, Kaiser begins working for a local man known for sleazy dealings and art collecting. It is this character, Donny LeClair, around whom the novel really circles, though Kaiser is the protagonist. Without LeCalir, though, very little would happen in the book.

Drug running, satellite tracking, fractured family dynamics, the dream of making a better tomorrow, and the awful ways people hurt one another unite in North Country, but don't assume the book is without hope. Hope is a Bondurant hallmark, and it runs steady as the current under frozen Lake Champlain in this novel.


The Grumpy Ghost Upstairs

Just right for the coming season, this book tells the story of a little ghost who lives in an attic and is quite happy there with his own company. But one day, a little girl ventured into the dark, dusty attic, and the little solitary ghost hid. In desperation, the little ghost decides to invade the little girl’s territory and put a big scare into her. The little girl was not afraid and wanted to make the little ghost her friend. Little ghost decided that he might like a friend. For the little, shy person, this book provides just the right scary story, which mirrors the real-life terror of venturing out. It demonstrates to the little ones that even though it is scary to reach out, it is worthwhile to make a new friend, even if the friend is very different from you.


Gymnastica Fantastica!

Gymnastica is the story of a cute little girl who is quite amazing. She is very stretchy and can do lots of tricks for her dog. She can even do so hula hoop tricks and dance with a ribbon when she puts on a show. She is very confident in all the new things she is learning to do and she loves to practice and show off.

The illustrations are really unique. The ribbon and a lot of the background are in this really cool rainbow pattern, that just makes it fascinating. The little girl and her sheep dog puppy are cute. My favorite part is when she gets on the trapeze and she is really just on her swing set.  This is a great book for little imaginative readers.


The Slightly Spooky Tale of Fox and Mole

I love that fox and mole are friends and have afternoon meet-ups to have a snack and read a story together. Until one day Fox feels like Mole has taken more than he should've as the fox is completely out of cookies or anything that was once in his pantry. So the fox thinks he might teach Mole a lesson by scaring him and eating all the food in his pantry.

This book was incredible. The storyline is really fantastic and the illustrations are just incredible. There is just a little bit of a spooky part in the middle of the story and the illustrations really tell the best story. This may be our new favorite book. It also shows that you should be mindful of how you treat others and you must take care of one another.


The Killer Question: A Novel

A weekly pub quiz game in England takes a deadly and sinister turn when a new team shows up, reveals nothing about themselves, and begins to dominate. So begins the latest from Janice Hallett in a somewhat satisfying mystery that kind of disappoints at the end with the big reveal.

Sam and Mal are two retired police officers who decide to run a pub and have exciting, original quiz games. Over the years, they become part of the community, but all of that changes when a new team shows up and begins to win and win. Sam and Mal become suspicious, and at that point, the story goes back several years when Sam and Mal were on the force during a high-profile kidnapping, and things took a turn for the worse in their careers. They thought they escaped, but now it seems the chickens are coming home to roost. Can they escape with their pub and livelihood intact?

Like the other Hallett books, this is told in a more non-traditional telling by using text messages, emails, transcriptions of video recordings, and witness statements. While it is good, most of the ending may leave you a bit underwhelmed.


The Christian Handbook of Survival

As a middle-aged man who has spent years in church pews listening to familiar sermons about faith, salvation, and the rapture, I found Silas Marshall’s The Christian Handbook of Survival both eye-opening and, at times, unsettling. This is not your typical Christian devotional or “feel-good” inspirational text. Instead, it’s a direct, no-nonsense guide for believers facing the possibility of being “left behind,” and it pulls no punches in calling out the dangers of complacency and false teaching.

One of the parts that stood out most to me was Marshall’s insistence that Satan comes first, not Christ. He challenges the commonly taught pre-tribulation rapture by laying out his case with Scripture, writing, “The Bible says we will be here, who will you believe, man or God?”. For me, this was a jarring reminder of how often we accept what’s preached without digging into the Word ourselves. His urging to study the Bible “chapter by chapter, verse by verse” felt like a call to personal accountability in my own walk with faith.

I also appreciated Marshall’s practical advice. His encouragement to prepare physically, by stocking food and water, or even learning bartering systems, may sound extreme, but he connects it back to biblical precedent, pointing to Joseph’s preparations for famine in Genesis. Whether or not a reader agrees with this level of survivalist thinking, I liked that Marshall broadened the conversation beyond just spiritual platitudes. It’s a reminder that faith and wisdom often go hand-in-hand.

Another section that stuck with me was his re-examination of Cain and Abel. Marshall questions the Sunday school explanation of Cain’s wife and points out inconsistencies that he believes show how much we’ve accepted “doctrines of men” rather than the fullness of Scripture. While I may not agree with all of his interpretations, particularly his retelling of the Garden of Eden as a seduction rather than a bite of forbidden fruit, I admired his willingness to wrestle with Scripture in ways most pastors shy away from. Even when I didn’t buy into his conclusions, I respected the conviction behind them.

That said, I did have a few dislikes. The book sometimes leans so heavily into urgency that it risks overwhelming the reader. Statements like, “This will not be a cake walk, it’s serious business, saints," while impactful, can come across more like a drill sergeant’s bark than a shepherd’s encouragement. I also found that the repetition of warnings about deception, though important, could have been trimmed down to keep the narrative tighter. At times, the tone bordered on fear-based motivation, and I think some readers might disengage because of that.

Still, Marshall’s message about endurance and love brings balance to the harder edges. He reminds readers that being prepared isn’t just about resisting Satan, but about actively living out God’s command to love: “Beloved, let us love one another; for love is of God” (1 John 4:7). That closing emphasis helped ground the book for me, softening the intensity with the heart of the Gospel.

In the end, The Christian Handbook of Survival is not an easy read, but it is a necessary one for believers willing to challenge comfortable assumptions. I liked its raw honesty and its reliance on Scripture, even when I didn’t agree with all of Marshall’s conclusions. For those who want a straightforward guide to standing firm in faith, spiritually, mentally, and even practically, this handbook offers plenty to wrestle with and much to reflect on.


The Threads of Becoming: A Memoir in Poems

Tamara Hill’s The Threads of Becoming is a luminous memoir-in-verse that gently weaves together the many roles of a modern woman, including daughter, mother, entrepreneur, survivor, and dreamer, into a poignant tapestry of resilience, reflection, and redefinition. Through her poetry, Hill traces the arc of her life not in linear milestones but in emotional resonance. “These poems do not move chronologically,” she writes in the introduction, “they move by heart, by memory, by the invisible pull of what matters most.” That structure is one of the book’s greatest strengths: it invites us not to analyze, but to feel.

One of the core themes of the book is healing through love. In poems like “The Silence Between Smiles” and “Whispering Goodbye,” Hill chronicles her early childhood neglect and the deep solace she found in her grandmother Mona’s unconditional love. Mona is a touchstone of strength and tenderness who remains present even after death. “Her spirit stayed, a whisper near,” Hill recalls, continuing to guide her through adulthood with the quiet question: “What would Mona do?”

Motherhood, unsurprisingly, occupies a central and emotionally rich space in this collection. Hill writes of her children with breathtaking tenderness. In “The Simplicity of You,” she captures the stillness of her son’s birth: “You weren’t just my child, my beautiful boy; / You were the answer, the root of my joy.” Similarly, “A Little Spitfire” and “My Miracle” chronicle her daughter’s premature birth and indomitable spirit, celebrating maternal intuition and the raw power of love. These poems pulse with gratitude and awe; they are tributes not just to her children but to the woman she became through them.

Another recurring theme is the search for purpose and creativity. Hill does not shy away from charting her career in male-dominated industries or reflecting on how COVID-19 catalyzed her shift into creative entrepreneurship. In “Code and Soul,” she describes her tech-world ascent and its emotional toll, revealing how she learned to root her career in values: “Let this all serve the soul, not just catch the eye.” Her eventual turn toward hospitality design in Italy becomes a symbol of freedom and artistic expression.

Love and letting go are also layered throughout. “Still Waiting” speaks candidly to the bittersweet hope of romantic companionship later in life, while “The Quiet Cage” and “A Bond Divided” explore failed relationships and co-parenting with clarity and courage. Yet Hill never paints herself as a victim. She is always becoming, always choosing. As she writes in “The Asking,” “Knowing what I want/isn’t selfish— / it’s sacred.”

Ultimately, The Threads of Becoming is a deeply empowering collection. Hill’s voice is honest and accessible, her language elegant but not aloof. This book will resonate with any woman who has ever had to rebuild herself through grief, motherhood, career shifts, or heartbreak. It’s a celebration of what we carry and what we let go. And in every thread, there is beauty.