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In The Lost Queen of Crocker County, Jane Willow, the former Corn Queen of Crocker County, returns to Iowa after a family tragedy—and finds a second chance in her Midwestern home. Author Elizabeth Leiknes imbues this tale with a breezy sense of humor and an abiding love of movies, and though her new novel proves that she knows how to tell a great story, she also has a serious bit of advice: Don’t become a novelist.


For those of you readers who are considering it, don’t become a novelist. Just don’t. I beg you. Because before you know it, years will evaporate. Your lofty dreams and Oprah-inspired vision boards will come and go. Your various muses will turn fickle. Then one day you’ll be sitting on the couch, balancing a hot-mess-of-a-manuscript on one knee and your own personal key lime pie on the other—and I mean the whole pie, not just a slice. That would be way too civilized. You will also have a can of whipped cream, so that each bite can act as a mere vehicle for the creamy clouds piled high, meant to sweeten the tartness of the often-sour, pride-swallowing work that is creating a novel.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. Sure, there are ups and downs to writing, but the process . . . the PROCESS! It’s so magical. What must it feel like to give birth to a full-length story complete with an engaging plot, riveting themes and satisfying narrative arcs? It feels like giving birth. That’s what it feels like. It is a great deal of work, at first terrifying and painful and then joyous beyond belief. What happens after the book-birth? Pretty much, you’ll worry yourself to death about it. You’ll imagine what could go sideways. You’ll invent ways it will fail. You’ll make deals with the universe in exchange for its triumph.

All of what I’ve said is true, which is why I consider the birth of The Lost Queen of Crocker County to be a bit of a miracle. Sometimes the right thing happens at just the right time in life, and it makes so much sense that you must consider it divine. Five years ago, I’d silently decided to give up writing. I’d published three novels that I was proud of, but my writing career hadn’t become what I’d hoped it would. I am an English teacher by day, so I decided I’d continue the privilege of teaching writing rather than doing it myself.

But then one day, shortly after my I’m-not-going-to-write-anymore realization, something strange happened on my way home from school. I heard a slight thump while driving. In retrospect, it was probably something inconsequential like a rock on the highway or maybe even just the way the car reacted to a bump in the road, but at the time, my initial reaction was a series of emotions alternating between panic and denial. Did I hit something? You’re just tired, it was nothing. Oh, my God, what if it was a kitten? Why would a kitten be on the highway? I even pulled the car over to peruse the area and make sure I didn’t see anything. Then, as I resumed my drive home, I was struck with this: Is it normal to have those kinds of thoughts (zero to prison) in reaction to a small incident like that? Do other people see headlines in their heads—LOCAL TEACHER CHARGED WITH HIT AND RUN INVOLVING SMALL ANIMAL IN FRONT OF DAIRY QUEEN—or is this, perhaps, strictly a Midwesterner’s reaction? Does where we come from shape who we are? Are Midwesterners somehow programmed for guilt? By the time I got home, a story had formed about a woman, transplanted in the West, who returns to her Midwestern home to face her sins, and after being involved in a crime, has to make things right.

So I wrote the book. I had to. This is how it is for writers, or for me at least. If you don’t feel compelled to write stories, go enjoy your life. Work out. Ride a unicycle. Learn to make fancy cakes. Walk into a bookstore and get lost. Worry about normal things, like your beautiful family or gluten or plagues, rather than if your novel accomplished all that you wanted it to. For me, I really, really hope that The Lost Queen of Crocker County does justice to Iowa, to movies, to love. I hope that it reminds readers of the beauty of home, family and second chances.

If I still haven’t convinced you not to write novels, you’ve passed the test. You are doomed to the roller-coaster ride that is being a writer. But you are also blessed with leaving a legacy of stories for your children long after you’ve gone. And you are able to hand your husband a novel that is dedicated to him, dedicated to the fact that his exceptional dad-and-husband skills have afforded you the luxury of time so that you can put your dreams on paper. Last but not least, you are able to create a piece of work that proposes an alternate storyline, a kind of better you’d like the world to be.

In The Lost Queen of Crocker County, Jane Willow, the former Corn Queen of Crocker County, returns to Iowa after a family tragedy—and finds a second chance in her Midwestern home. Author Elizabeth Leiknes imbues this tale with a breezy sense of humor and an abiding love of movies, and though her new novel proves that she knows how to tell a great story, she also has a serious bit of advice: Don’t become a novelist.

Behind the Book by

Through the power of story, great pain can become a message of hope. First-time novelist Yara Zgheib shares the heartbreaking true story behind The Girls at 17 Swann Street.


I do not know how to eat. There was a time not long ago when I forced myself to forget. I forced myself to forget the tastes I used to love: ice cream, French fries, pizza, even bread. I pushed them off-limits, one by one. I starved and ran, starved and ran my fears and anxieties away till I, like Anna, the protagonist in The Girls at 17 Swann Street, found myself in a treatment center for eating disorders.

There I was faced with girls who were battling diseased brains that were killing them. Some became my friends. Some of those killed themselves. I admit, at times I was tempted.

I eventually left treatment and have been in recovery for a few years. But there are still girls, sometimes boys, being admitted to that center every day.

My story is no different from theirs. Perhaps the only distinction is that I chose to write mine down. It started as a memoir. Actually, before that, as a diary of my days in treatment. I was in great pain and angry at the world for not caring or understanding. Then I read these words by Borges:

“A writer—and, I believe, generally all persons—must think that whatever happens to him or her is a resource. All things have been given to us for a purpose, and an artist must feel this more intensely. All that happens to us, including our humiliations, our misfortunes, our embarrassments, all is given to us as raw material, as clay, so that we may shape our art.”

I had the clay, and I just shaped it. I wrote a memoir to tell my father that not eating did not mean that I was vain, or that I did not love him enough. I wrote to tell my husband the same thing, and sorry, and that without him, I would be dead. I wrote to my mother and sister. I wrote to my brother, my friends, to all the people who stared. I wrote to give the world a glimpse of what goes on in my head when I eat one bite, just one bite of pizza, then I rewrote the whole manuscript as fiction because it was not just my story.

Eating disorders affect millions of girls and boys around the world. Anorexia in particular is terrifying because it is quiet and sneaky and patient. It poses as your brain and tells you lies about your worth and your reflection in the mirror. Those around you cannot hear it and therefore cannot understand why on earth you will not share a few bites of their birthday cake with them.

It is about being cold and hungry all the time, even in your sleep. It is about losing your hair and energy and friends and period and personality. It is about people’s incomprehension and judgment, about scaring little children at the pool because your ribs and kneecaps are sticking out and your eyeballs are deep in your sockets.

“I am not cured. I am not ready; I am terrified of what is coming. But I lift my chin higher. Keep walking, Anna.

“[…] The car turns at the end of the street, and the house disappears. I am going home. We are going home.”

Anna had to be fictional because she is not just me. She is every person who has ever felt unworthy, insecure, scared or guilty about the way he or she acts or looks or eats. She also had to be fictional to protect the real girls of 17 Swann Street, the real Matthias and the other characters in the story. Last, she had to be fictional so she and her story could be universal. So that she and the reader could be hopeful. It can end well. It does. People do leave 17 Swann Street.

Sincerely,

Yara

Yara Zgheib is a Fulbright scholar with a Ph.D. from Centre d’Études Diplomatiques et Stratégiques in Paris. She is fluent in English, Arabic, French and Spanish. Her first novel, The Girls at 17 Swann Street, draws from her own experiences with anorexia to tell the story of a former ballerina named Anna Roux who must enter treatment. Zgheib beautifully portrays moments of both despair and hope in this raw, honest debut.

Spring brings blooms and growth and change—just like the characters in these excellent April novels, each thought-provoking and enthralling in its own way. Whether or not they want to, these young men and women have a lot to learn, and readers will find much to enjoy in their journeys into early adulthood. 


Lights All Night LongLights All Night Long by Lydia Fitzpatrick

Gifted Russian teenager Ilya arrives in the U.S. for an academic exchange year, but like many young people trying to make their own way, he’s distracted by events back home. But Ilya has a good reason: His drug-addicted older brother has been accused of multiple murders. With the help of his host family’s daughter, Ilya tries to prove his brother’s innocence by scouring the internet, and the result is a darkly beautiful, intense tale of guilt, secrets and inescapable truth. It’s worth noting that the author’s writing is breathtaking, which is perfectly suited to the story’s measured pace; all the better to linger, my dear. Read our review.


Magnetic GirlThe Magnetic Girl by Jessica Handler

In the 19th century, a real-life stage magician named Lulu Hurst, known as the “Georgia Wonder,” captivated audiences with her apparent super-strength. Handler’s novel pulls from Lulu’s life to tell a story of growing up and growing away from the person you once were. As a girl, Lulu finds a book in her father’s study and learns her special skills, and she slowly transforms from a gawky, small-town farmer’s daughter to a well-known, alluring performer. When her performance goes on tour, she begins to see her parents and their shortcomings more clearly, and the reader is fully immersed in this introspection and process of self-discovery. Read our review.


Normal PeopleNormal People by Sally Rooney

Rooney became a literary sensation in her native Ireland with the release of her debut novel, Conversations with Friends. Her brilliant, Booker Prize-nominated new novel has only enhanced her reputation. Set in a small Irish town, it stars two 16-year-olds—uncool Marianne and football star Connell—who have different financial backgrounds and an unavoidable connection. It’s a bond that carries through their college years, when they become more like friends than lovers, though something deeper continues to simmer. Read our starred review.
 


Trust ExerciseTrust Exercise by Susan Choi

Remember first love? Intense, obsessive, probably gross—and everyone at your high school was talking about it. Choi’s latest novel takes that intensity to a place we never would’ve expected. At the risk of spoilers, all we can reveal is that the first part of the book stars two rising sophomores who had a relationship and then broke up, as well as an acting teacher and a classmate named Karen. The rest of the novel challenges the very nature of fiction. Read our review.
 


A Wonderful Stroke of LuckA Wonderful Stroke of Luck by Ann Beattie

With her latest novel, Beattie serves up an unflinchingly bleak—albeit sometimes laugh-out-loud humorous—serving of millennial malaise. For young Ben and his posse at Bailey Academy, most of the grown-ups in their lives are either dead, dying or dysfunctional. After 9/11, the students draw even closer to their creepy teacher Pierre LaVerdere, and once again, it’s a connection that lasts long into adulthood. Read our review.

Spring brings blooms and growth and change—just like the characters in these excellent April novels, each thought-provoking and enthralling in its own way. Whether or not they want to, these young men and women have a lot to learn, and readers will find much to enjoy in their journeys into early adulthood.
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So you’re a fan of Jojo Moyes’ best-selling, tear-jerking 2012 release, Me Before You. This story of the relationship between down-and-out Louisa Clark and the wealthy, quadriplegic she becomes a caregiver for is as touching and warm as it is thought-provoking, making it a perfect fit for book clubs.

Other than tearing through Moyes’ backlist (she’s published more than 10 other books) what’s a Me Before You fan to do next? Not to worry: BookPage has some ideas.

(Warning: minor plot spoilers; after all, this is for those who have already read Me Before You!)


My Sister’s Keeper by Jodi Picoult

OK, so this one might not be much of a surprise, but no one does the ethical dilemma novel™ better than Picoult, and My Sister’s Keeper is one of her most controversial. If debating right to life/quality of life issues was what turned you on about Me Before You, give this one a whirl. Read it already? Go for the not-yet-adapted-for-film Second Glance.


Being Mortal by Atul Gawande

Speaking of medical ethics . . . best-selling author Gawande may not write novels, but his essays on the challenges of medicine, especially when it comes to drawing the line between treatment and quality of life, certainly make for compelling reading. Anyone who came out of Me Before You with questions about the medical issues involved should pick up this sensitive new collection that will leave you wiser.


Love Water Memory by Jennie Shortridge

One of the most compelling storylines in Me Before You was Lou’s journey of self-discovery—the way she realizes there’s more to who she can be. Shortridge’s fifth novel offers a more extreme version of that theme. It’s the story of Lucie Walker, who awakens in the San Francisco Bay with no idea who she is or how she got there. Worse, she doesn’t recognize the handsome man who shows up claiming to be her fiancé.


The Rosie Project by Graeme Simsion

If the “odd-couple” dynamic between Louisa and Will was your favorite part of Me Before You, don’t miss The Rosie Project, last year’s word-of-mouth hit that chronicled the romance between a professor who is logical to a fault and a whimsical, fun-loving bartender who comes to him for help finding her biological father. 


Belong to Me by Marisa de los Santos

So you liked Me Before You because it was a tear-jerker? Try Maria de los Santos, especially the poignant Belong to Me, which follows a 30-something who is dying of cancer.

(More obvious runner-ups in the tear-jerker category: The Time-Traveler’s WifeThe Fault in Our Stars.)


Someone Else’s Love Story by Joshilyn Jackson

One of the themes of Me Before You is appreciating the joy to be found in life, no matter what your situation might be. In Jackson’s compassionate sixth novel, Someone Else’s Love Story, her heroine Shandi has to do just that, even as she uncovers some uncomfortable truths about her life and meets the equally wounded, but less resiliant, William.


So you’re a fan of Jojo Moyes’ best-selling, tear-jerking 2012 release, Me Before You. This story of the relationship between down-and-out Louisa Clark and the wealthy, quadriplegic she becomes a caregiver for is as touching and warm as it is thought-provoking, making it a perfect fit…

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Being a titan in romantic fiction comes with some expectations. People love—or maybe even need—a good cry, and when you’re a master of romance, they expect you to deliver one. It has never been hard for Nicholas Sparks to keep this promise, but when you’ve been writing love stories for 25 years, it can be difficult to meet, let alone surpass, expectations. 

However, as Sparks’ many fans know, his formula for bringing such romances to life is effective because we find ourselves truly caring for his characters, in spite of any reservations or presumptions. The Wish is a typical Sparks drama, familiar in the way that an old friend is: You know what that friend will say and how they’ll say it, but there’s still the possibility that you’ll be surprised by the infinite person they are inside.

Heuristic and dazzling, Nicholas Sparks’ novel convinces its reader to believe, in spite of everything, in love.

The novel follows Maggie Dawes throughout 2013, the last year of her life. She is a famous photographer diagnosed with terminal cancer, and when a young man named Mark comes to her gallery in search of a job, Maggie finds a confidante in him. She begins to reflect upon and tell her story before it’s too late. 

In 1996, at the age of 16, Maggie’s family sends her away to avoid the scandal of her pregnancy, and she’s taken in by an aunt who’s a former nun living on North Carolina’s Outer Banks. Maggie spends her days feeling helpless and isolated until she meets Bryce, the only other person her age on the island of Ocracoke. When Bryce begins to tutor her, it becomes overwhelmingly clear that despite Maggie’s pregnancy and Bryce’s military dreams, the two are destined to be together.

This far into his career, each of Sparks’ novels feels like a high school science experiment: Change the variables, add this, subtract this and see what happens. And though The Wish may seem obvious at times, when put into the larger picture of Sparks’ tragically tuned arch, the reader can see how such exaggerated emotion provides life, breath and blood to these near-perfect characters. The reader may wonder how much of Sparks’ writing process is spent trying out plot options and disregarding the failures—surely a lot, as the result is faultlessly executed. 

Sparks knows how to pull your heartstrings, and as The Wish progresses, you know when to expect the punches. This doesn’t mean, however, that you want to dodge them. And just because you’re expecting a twist doesn’t mean that one won’t still form in your stomach. It’s comforting to know that there’s still a place you can go—besides your own intricate, messy life—for a reliable cry.

With The Wish, Sparks reminds us that love, as predictable as it can be, will always move you in ways you can’t comprehend. Yes, it is idyllic, it is comforting, it is sentimental, but at the end of the day, you have to suspend logic and smile. It’s how we love.

Heuristic and dazzling, Nicholas Sparks’ novel convinces its reader to believe, in spite of everything, in love.
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While searching through her dead mother’s possessions, Anna Bain finds an old journal of her father’s, a discovery that she hopes will offer clarity about a person she never really knew. So begins Chibundu Onuzo’s third novel, Sankofa, an enjoyably readable novel that raises questions of belonging and the search for personal roots. 

Francis Aggrey’s diary offers important clues about his identity. He was a young student from a small West African country, here fictionalized as Bamana but bearing some resemblance to Ghana, and attended college in 1970s London. He boarded with a white Welsh family and began a romantic relationship with the younger daughter, Bronwen—Anna’s mother—before becoming involved in radical politics and returning to Bamana. 

Anna is shocked to find out that after years of political activism, Francis became the prime minister of his country under the name Kofi Adjei. Even more amazing, the former leader is still alive. Upon learning this information, Anna finds herself at a crux in her own life, separated from her husband and with no real ties to London, and so she journeys to Bamana to find her father. 

One of the strengths of Sankofa is that Anna must consistently confront notions of difference and acceptance. She was never comfortable growing up biracial in 1980s London, and her experience in Bamana is no less disorienting, especially because she passes for white among the local population. It is even more challenging for her to hear reports about her father that aren’t positive; as much as he has accomplished for his country, there are rumors that he suppressed free speech and quashed student rebellions. Yet there is no question that for Anna, meeting her father provides a sense of stability and of self that she’s never really known. 

Onuzo’s disarmingly frank novel contends with complex issues of identity and prejudice, and it doesn’t sugarcoat its depiction of the fractured history of a developing country. Onuzo sets Anna on a path that can only be completed when she begins to come to terms with her past. 

Chibudno Onuzo’s novel is enjoyably readable and disarmingly frank as it follows a woman in search of her father.
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Lee Fiora is a teen from South Bend, Indiana, attending the high-status Ault School on scholarship. Ault’s well-heeled student body includes some familiar figures a Barbie-ish blonde (named, affluently enough, Aspeth Montgomery), a hunky basketball star and a lonely gay student but Sittenfeld’s novel is more than a collection of stereotypes. With this unique and powerful coming-of-age novel, she tells the tale of an outsider who learns as she goes along how to cope in an unfamiliar world.

Lee’s decidedly middle-class upbringing is revealed when her mother and father arrive at the school for Parents’ Weekend in their shabby old Datsun. The weekend proves a catastrophic one for the humiliated Lee, providing her with a new perspective on the way families work. When she becomes involved with basketball hero Cross Sugarman, the experience is not quite as grand as Lee imagined. The growing pains set in as through various friendships and romances Lee comes into her own. As a narrator, she is endearing and awkward, with her own idiosyncrasies and obsessions, and the reader is drawn to her a loner in a world of wealth and social status.

Sittenfeld’s portrayal of this sensitive, tormented youth has won her comparisons to J.D. Salinger. Prep is a witty and wise debut novel that perfectly captures the essence of adolescence, but goes beyond the teen experience to encompass larger themes like identity and family.

Lee Fiora is a teen from South Bend, Indiana, attending the high-status Ault School on scholarship. Ault’s well-heeled student body includes some familiar figures a Barbie-ish blonde (named, affluently enough, Aspeth Montgomery), a hunky basketball star and a lonely gay student but Sittenfeld’s novel is…

Although Sara Nisha Adams makes her authorial debut with The Reading List, her connection to the world of books is not new. She has worked as a book editor and attributes her passion for reading to her early childhood, when she bonded with her grandfather over their shared love of literature. Not only did this relationship cultivate a lifelong case of bibliophilia, but it also served as the inspiration for The Reading List, a story about two lonely individuals whose initial common ground is, ironically, that neither has any interest in reading.

We first meet Mukesh, a widower who is grieving the passing of his beloved wife (who was a voracious reader) and finds himself increasingly alienated from the rest of his family. Desperate to form a connection with his bookish granddaughter, Mukesh heads to the local library to try to better understand her. There he meets Aleisha, a teenager who dreams of becoming a lawyer and views her summer position at the library with disdain. Following a disastrous first meeting with Mukesh, Aleisha stumbles upon a mysterious list of book titles, which she decides she will recommend to Mukesh and read alongside him as a means of making amends.

What begins as a whim soon transforms into a deeply enriching and gratifying experience. The books act as a lifeline for Mukesh and Aleisha as the two new friends navigate their personal tribulations. Reading is so often viewed as a solitary pursuit, but The Reading List turns that idea on its head, illustrating the ways one book can touch many lives and act as a shared point of empathy, uniting disparate individuals into a community.

In Adams’ gentle novel, there is no sorrow or trouble so great that a good book—and a supportive friend—cannot help, and it is never too late to become a reader. As an uplifting and tenderhearted celebration of libraries and the transformative power of books, The Reading List is particularly perfect for book clubs and sure to brighten any reader’s day.

Sara Nisha Adams' touching debut novel,The Reading List, illustrates the ways one book can act as a shared point of empathy, uniting individuals into a community.
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The funny and sharp fourth novel by acclaimed Bangladesh-born British author Tahmima Anam, The Startup Wife, exposes the folly of looking for leadership in the startup sector, which reveres disruption in all areas except its own.

In this brilliantly incisive social novel, a quasi-faith community springs from a social media platform called WAI, short for “We Are Infinite.” WAI uses an algorithm to design personalized rituals based on three meaningful elements of a person’s life—and then introduces that person to a like-minded community.

It’s easy to see why WAI would be appealing. Its rituals fill the void many modern-day people feel in the absence of organized religion. The platform's essential concept is that if we treat something as sacred, we believe that it is more than entertainment, that it offers moral rewards and is worthy of rigorous contemplation. (Listeners to the "Harry Potter and the Sacred Text" podcast will find this idea familiar.)

But first, the novel begins with a love story: Thirteen years after high school, Asha Ray reunites with her crush, Cyrus Jones, when they attend a memorial for their late English teacher. Asha is four years into her Ph.D. at Harvard, and Cyrus has become a charismatic spiritual polyglot. He’s traveled the world, collecting bits of philosophy and religion from an endless variety of sources, and distilled them into something people can use in their own lives. “I create rituals,” he says.

Cyrus and Asha’s intellectual connection is intense, and soon, so is their physical relationship. The novel focuses on their all-encompassing, interconnected work-life partnership, which also includes, to a lesser extent, their best friend, Jules. When Asha’s artificial intelligence research hits a roadblock, she draws inspiration from Cyrus’ work and decides “to start a platform that [allows] people without religion to practice a form of faith.” Through Asha’s programming wizardry, WAI becomes a life-changing phenomenon. But it quickly becomes clear that the platform, intended to bring people together, is likely to blow the triad apart.

The Startup Wife is framed as a satirical novel about startup culture, but because Americans revere that culture, its foibles and failings are our failures, too. Tech investors subscribe to the “great man” theory of history as much as the rest of America, and this unavoidable fact begins to spoil Asha’s relationships with her two male partners. Investors are more apt to provide valuable exposure and support to a passion project fronted by a brilliant (usually white) man rather than a geeky brown woman. So even though Asha’s research is the source of the platform’s Empathy Module algorithm, handsome Cyrus becomes the figurehead for WAI. Initially resistant to making his spiritual practice into a business, he is easily seduced into playing CEO and messiah.

While The Startup Wife is full of beautifully messy and enviable characters, Asha’s fierce feminism and candor stand out. Of course, she’s far from innocent. She’s a creative genius who wants her due, just as any man would. But it’s a delight to experience Asha’s first-person perspective of the world and her metamorphosis into a powerful, flawed woman.

Because The Startup Wife is sexy and funny and puts relationships at the forefront, it might be easy to overlook its depth and sophistication. But its priorities are right where they should be. When people create a community with their friends and lovers, it is inevitable that boundaries will dissolve and that friendship, love, ego and identity will become intertwined. The Startup Wife’s insights about modern relationships, gender politics, race, technology and culture are as excellent and vital as its storytelling.

Tahmima Anam’s funny, sharp novel exposes the folly of looking for leadership in the startup sector, which reveres disruption in all areas except its own.

As Together We Will Go opens, 29-year-old Mark believes he’s never going to succeed at writing. He’s had suicidal thoughts since high school, he’s had enough of life, and he’s come up with a plan: a final bus trip, one last cross-country party with a group of like-minded souls who can’t carry the weight of life anymore.

J. Michael Straczynski’s novel follows this group of mostly young people intent on ending their lives. As the bus stops in several states to pick up passengers, the story cycles through all 12 characters’ perspectives, but six take center stage: the aforementioned Mark; Karen, a young woman with chronic pain; Tyler, a young man with a worsening hole in his heart; Vaughn, a 66-year-old widower with a painful secret; Lisa, whose bipolar disorder has led her to despair; and Shanelle, a lonely woman who has been bullied for her size. As the bus makes its way west, these characters connect, form alliances and deal with each other’s quirks and bad behavior.

Straczynski, a comic book writer, screenwriter and co-creator of Netflix’s “Sense8,” uses text messages, emails, online journal entries and audio transcripts to reveal the characters’ thoughts and actions, creating a 21st-century epistolary novel. Because of this format, the novel moves along quickly, although the characters’ thoughts occasionally blur together, especially when musing philosophically on the state of the world and their places in it.

But a late plot twist is satisfying, intensifying the characters’ bonds as they decide what to do. While a novel about characters planning to end their lives is not for everyone (as the introduction notes, “discretion is advised”), Together We Will Go is, in the end, about friendship and learning to love.

While a novel about characters planning to end their lives is not for everyone, Together We Will Go is, in the end, about friendship and learning to love.
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We are all memory keepers. Recalling and memorializing the past is an essential part of the human experience, whether through photographs, videos or little mementos that line our shelves. Amy Ashton, the 30-something protagonist of Eleanor Ray’s debut novel, The Missing Treasures of Amy Ashton, has perhaps taken this habit a bit too far.

In the London suburbs, Amy’s collection of trinkets has grown out of hand. Once destined to become a painter, Amy now channels her creativity into finding ways to navigate the zigzagging trail through the boxes that fill her home—boxes of broken things, porcelain birds, empty bottles, coffee mugs, cookbooks, newspapers, mirrors, plant pots and vases with long-dead honeysuckles inside.

Her collection can best be described as junk, and cultivating it is Amy’s way of dealing with the shocking tragedy that turned her life upside down over a decade ago. But when a family moves in next door, Amy learns that 8-year-old Charles has developed his own obsessions to handle the quirks of life. Initially annoyed by the neighborly interferences, Amy slowly warms to Charles’ friendship and the help offered by his family.

The Missing Treasures of Amy Ashton is heartwarming and tender as it pokes fun at the absurdities and tragedies of life with quintessential British humor. Supporting characters add to the charm and mystery in Amy’s quest for a better future, one that’s unencumbered by junk.

This is an ideal read for anyone looking for a good-humored and uplifting story, but especially for those who enjoyed Gail Honeyman’s Eleanor Oliphant Is Completely Fine and Ruth Hogan’s The Keeper of Lost Things.

Eleanor Ray’s debut novel about a hoarder pokes gentle fun at the absurdities and tragedies of life with quintessential British humor.

Following the success of her recent novels The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo and Daisy Jones & The Six, author Taylor Jenkins Reid has amassed a legion of fans that could put those of her titular heroines to shame. Readers have giddily gobbled up Reid’s romps through the glitz and glam of bygone Los Angeles and have been waiting with unbridled excitement for her next novel. In Malibu Rising, Reid capitalizes on her winning formula to create another bona fide hit, this time spinning a decadent family drama that revolves around a single life-changing day in 1983.


ALSO IN BOOKPAGE: Summer reading 2021: 9 books to soak in this season


Every year, the four Riva siblings throw an epic end-of-summer bash, notorious for its excess and hedonism and the A-list guests who attend. This year, however, the party will be notable not merely for the debauchery on display (though there will be plenty of that) but also for the family drama, as some of the Rivas’ closely guarded secrets come to light. With the Riva mansion reduced to a smoldering pile of ashes come morning, it’s safe to say that nothing will ever be the same after this blowout.

As Reid ushers readers through this fateful day, we spend time with each of the Riva siblings: Nina, the hyper-responsible eldest sister and famed surf model whose husband left her for another woman; Jay, the superstar surfer who appears to have it all but whose life is secretly falling apart; Hud, a kindhearted and gentle photographer whose new girlfriend is undoubtedly going to make some waves; and Kit, the youngest and perennially overlooked sister who itches for a chance to shine on her own merit.

Reid provides additional depth and nuance by intertwining the siblings’ 1983 narrative with a timeline that traces the tragic relationship of their parents, June and legendary singer Mick Riva. Malibu Rising is packed with plenty of scintillating scandal, but Reid cultivates real empathy for her characters, who form the tender heart that beats at the novel’s core and are its greatest achievement.

Malibu Rising is a juicy, irresistible book that will sweep readers away.

Malibu Rising is packed with plenty of scintillating scandal, but Taylor Jenkins Reid’s irresistible characters are the novel’s greatest success.
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When we ask questions about life, it’s often the why that most unsettles us: why bad things happen, why we didn’t get that job or marry that person—and when the time comes, why we die. Even though that last question kicks off The One Hundred Years of Lenni and Margot, Marianne Cronin’s first novel brims with so much life.

Lenni Pettersson is terminally ill and perceptive in the way of 17-year-olds who've experienced more trauma than most people their age. She meets 83-year-old Margot Macrae in a memorable first encounter that turns comically conspiratorial: Lenni covers for Margot while Margot’s engaged in pulling something out of a large hospital rubbish bin. They’re both alone in the hospital, and each woman soon realizes that she’s found a kindred spirit.


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Captivated by Margot’s long and storied life, Lenni concocts a creative scheme. They will make paintings of pivotal moments from their lives, one for each of their combined 100 years, as a way to chronicle their stories and transport themselves away from the reality of hospital beds and surgeries. As they paint, their creative body of work begins to surprise them, as well as their fellow artist patients and excited art teacher, Pippa. With the encouragement of hospital chaplain Father Arthur and a favorite nurse, Lenni and Margot press on through memories both painful and breathtaking.

With love and tenderness on every page, this imaginative novel is a joy to read. British novelist Cronin captures all the emotions and desires of these two tenacious women as they relive their pasts in order to make something permanent and leave their mark. Her easy prose sings with real warmth, candor and humor.

Small in scope but large in humanity, The One Hundred Years of Lenni and Margot illuminates the steadying force of a heartfelt connection. Even in the face of death’s inevitability, friendship can be found, forgiveness can flourish and fun can ease fear.

Even in the face of death’s inevitability, friendship can be found, forgiveness can flourish and fun can ease fear.

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