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RomanceHistorical Romance

Hot Earl Summer

Review by Amanda Diehl

New York Times bestselling author Erica Ridley returns to her Wild Wynchesters series with a heroine who has a penchant for finding trouble and a shy, brainy hero pretending to be his cousin. Combine that pairing with a castle siege and the mystery of a missing will, and you have a delightful Regency romance that isn’t afraid to go over the top. 

The ownership of the Earl of Densmore’s castle is up for debate, and the notorious Wynchesters, a family of vigilantes and fixers with hearts of gold, are hired to get to the bottom of things. The previous earl’s will left the castle to the kind Miss Oak, who wants to refashion the estate into an orphanage. However, that document is missing, and the current Earl of Densmore claims he wagered the castle in a card game and lost. The search is soon on to find the missing will and determine if the earl possessed the standing to offer up the castle in the first place. 

Stephen Lenox, a talented but reclusive inventor, didn’t know that when he agreed to pose as his cousin (the aforementioned swindling earl) that he would have to deal with a host of people ranging from curious to annoyed to downright violent descending upon the castle and shouting something about a will. He’s clearly in way over his head, and Elizabeth Wynchester immediately appoints herself as his bodyguard. With a penchant for snuggling prickly little hedgehogs and for hiding a sword in her cane, Elizabeth isn’t afraid to take risks and flirt with danger. She may be the most lively and chaotic of the riotous Wynchesters, all of whom prove at every turn that Ridley’s series title is an apt one. 

Ridley’s reversal of the usual gender roles in a bodyguard romance adds an extra layer of fun to this opposites-attract courtship. The dashing Elizabeth is a tornado of energy and excitement, bringing her large and lovingly unmanageable family with her. Stephen, on the other hand, feels more at home alone, tinkering with his various inventions and gadgets. Having to answer for and try to rectify his cousin’s bad behavior, on top of managing a castle filled with nosy strangers, is his own personal nightmare. But Elizabeth knows just how to offset his anxiety, and helps him shoulder some difficult moments with her unshakable, uncompromising confidence. 

Fans of the previous books in the series will enjoy reuniting with familiar characters, and Ridley provides plenty of background information for newcomers to the series. No matter which camp readers may fall into, Hot Earl Summer is a wonderful and wacky romp.

Erica Ridley’s latest Wild Wynchesters romance is a wonderful and wacky opposites-attract love story between a dashing female bodyguard and a shy inventor.
Children's & YAPicture BookChildren's

I’m Sorry You Got Mad

Review by Lisa Bubert

In the nearly wordless I’m Sorry You Got Mad, the main character, Jack, owes his friend Zoe an apology. Throughout the book, Jack scribbles out tepid apologies on ripped notebook paper, his cheeks an angry red and mouth turned into an angry frown. His teacher, Ms. Rice, needs him to write a heartfelt apology, but Jack isn’t sure how to do that: Drafts like “I’M SORRY YOU GOT SO MAD!!!” don’t quite cut it. Besides, he’s still mad that Zoe got so mad!

As the book goes on, each apology letter becomes a bit clearer, a bit closer to the real thing. At one point, even the reader may be tricked into thinking the apology is perfect—but Ms. Rice continues her coaching and asks Jack to try again. And he does. But will Zoe forgive him?

Kyle Lukoff’s I’m Sorry You Got Mad is an incredible conversation starter. The only words involved are those on Jack’s apology note, the notes of encouragement Ms. Rice writes back to help Jack craft a real apology, and Zoe’s eventual response. It’s never clear exactly what happened to cause the hurt feelings or whose fault it is, but that also doesn’t matter. What matters is honoring each other’s feelings and making things right. I’m Sorry You Got Mad goes a long way in teaching children the different ways an apology can sound, the ways it can fall flat, and the ways we can repair and restore beloved friendships. Julie Kwon’s expressive character illustrations will help readers identify the difference between anger, regret and remorse. The classroom and other students in the background of the illustrations also give both children and adults opportunities to pore over several little backstories, imagine what might be happening in them and why, and consider who else in Jack’s class might be due an apology. After all, everyone is going to owe someone an apology at some point. So we might as well learn how to do it right. This instructive book can help anyone who struggles to make amends—kid or grown-up.

Kyle Lukoff’s nearly wordless I’m Sorry You Got Mad is an incredible conversation starter, bolstered by Julie Kwon's expressive character illustrations.
Mystery & SuspenseMystery

Guide Me Home

Review by Erica Ciccarone

The finale of Attica Locke’s beloved Highway 59 series starts with a shocker: Darren Mathews, the deeply moral, and deeply complicated, Black Texas Ranger hell-bent on destroying the Aryan Brotherhood of Texas, turns in his badge. 

Darren is worn down. A wily district attorney has relentlessly pursued his prosecution for a lie Darren told to protect an elderly Black man. Worse, the 2016 election of Donald Trump as president has left Darren in a state of utter despair, with his alcoholism “shaking him from the inside out.” Even with a stable girlfriend (whose presence will make fans of the series cheer), Darren is hurtling toward a breakdown when an unexpected source tells him about a Black teenage girl who has gone missing from a bizarre, dystopian community called Thornhill. 

Darren Mathews wants out of his genre.

Both 2017’s Edgar Award-winning Bluebird, Bluebird and its follow-up, 2019’s Heaven, My Home, force Darren up against society’s worst humans. But his most needling nemesis is not the Aryan Brotherhood, corrupt lawmen or plain old everyday racists. It’s his manipulative mother, Bell, who abandoned him to his uncles in his infancy. Guide Me Home changes the story by making Bell the Dr. Watson to Darren’s Holmes. It’s an uneasy truce, and readers will sympathize with both characters in equal measure as they unravel the Thornhill mystery.

Many mystery fans are willing to overlook hackneyed turns of phrase and oft-used literary tropes for a walloping plot. But with Locke, there’s no need. Her language is precise, refreshing and often beautiful. The close third-person point of view immerses readers in Darren’s pain and confusion as the ghosts of his family emerge, including that of the father who died before Darren was born. 

Guide Me Home isn’t a standalone novel; readers new to the Ranger will want to start with Bluebird, Bluebird and proceed chronologically to appreciate the literary triumph that is the Highway 59 series.

Attica Locke’s language is precise, refreshing and often beautiful in Guide Me Home, the final installment in the literary triumph that is her Highway 59 mystery series.
NonfictionHistory

Hiroshima

Review by Stephen Elliott

Four decades after the publication of his landmark on-the-ground reporting about the atomic bomb experiences of six Hiroshima survivors, journalist and author John Hersey returned to Japan to document what had become of his subjects over the years. Some embraced their hibakusha (the Japanese term for Hiroshima and Nagasaki survivors) identity, becoming regular presences on the speaking and memorial circuit. Others had preferred to keep their experiences private at first, and engaged with the public later in life. Most experienced medical fallout for the rest of their lives, and some died before Hersey could return.

“His memory, like the world’s, was getting spotty,” Hersey wrote of one survivor, decades after the bombing that killed some 80,000 to 150,000 civilians.

Now, four more decades later, M.G. Sheftall, an American professor living in Japan, has taken another crack at making sure the world’s memory remains clear. In Hiroshima: The Last Witnesses, he painstakingly reports on the lives of several other survivors in what, with remaining witnesses nearing 100 years old, could be the final firsthand recounting of the events of August 6, 1945. His subjects include a promising young student, girls tasked with working to prepare the city for an American invasion and a young military aide.

The similarities to Hersey’s findings do not stop with a title. Though Sheftall’s subjects were, generally, much younger than Hersey’s on the day the U.S. dropped the bomb, their lives tracked similar paths: chronic and debilitating medical conditions, survivor’s guilt, internal struggles over whether to publicize their experiences and a complicated blame game focused on both the Americans who wrought the destruction and a militaristic Japanese society that brought the war home.

Sheftall’s story is brutal but necessary (a second volume about Nagasaki survivors is on the way). In carefully recording the experiences of remaining hibakusha, he is providing crucial labor in service to our collective memory. But he does so with a literary flair that belies any stereotypes of academic writers and at times surpasses Hersey’s famous work of journalism.

Painful in substance but lyrical in form, Hiroshima should be required reading for political leaders, those interested in war and peace, and anyone who has grown numb to the specific horrors of World War II.

In this careful recording of the experiences of Japanese atomic bomb survivors, M.G. Sheftall provides a crucial service for our collective memory of Hiroshima.
NonfictionSelf-Help

Hope for Cynics

Review by Sarah McCraw Crow

Psychologist Jamil Zaki, who studies kindness and empathy as the director of the Stanford Social Neuroscience Lab, begins his book with an unexpected confession: “In private, I’m a cynic, prone to seeing the worst in people.” The book is inspired by his colleague and friend Emile Bruneau, a psychologist who built a study of the “neuroscience of peace.” Bruneau believed that hope could change the world, and maintained that belief up until his death from terminal brain cancer in 2020, at age 47. Bruneau “diagnosed triggers that inspire hatred, and then designed psychological treatments to reduce conflict and build compassion.”

Bruneau died during the first year of the COVID-19 pandemic, and Zaki lost all hope. He realized, to his chagrin, that he had become cynical. Being a scientist, he began to take a hard look at this outlook. In Hope for Cynics: The Surprising Science of Human Goodness, Zaki shows how and why cynicism is a harmful social disease, and what we can do about it.

In the first illuminating section, “Unlearning Cynicism,” Zaki identifies key differences between a cynical mindset, which is invariably negative, and a skeptical mindset, which allows room for hope. This section also lays out the conditions for today’s high levels of cynicism, noting that corruption and inequality can leave people feeling helpless and like they are unable to make a difference. And it offers persuasive research on perception, noting how often we misperceive others’ motivations (for instance, research shows that most people like helping others, though most of us think otherwise) and shares historical episodes that illustrate how overly negative assumptions can lead to catastrophic decisions.

Later sections offer narratives of people whose hopeful mindsets have led them to change their communities for the better. Throughout, Zaki shares his own failures to stay hopeful, recounting his conversations with Bruneau and Bruneau’s widow, and he explores the factors that may have contributed to Bruneau’s optimistic outlook. Hope for Cynics is a timely guide, and Zaki’s tribute to his radically hopeful friend adds an endearing, personal layer to this book.

 

Psychologist Jamil Zaki’s illuminating Hope for Cynics shows how and why cynicism is a harmful social disease, and what we can do about it.
NonfictionSocial Science

From the Ashes

Review by Deborah Mason

Grief can be mistaken for mere sadness. As a result, those who are grief-stricken may feel pressured to easily come to terms and find closure—and the sooner, the better. In From the Ashes: Grief and Revolution in a World on Fire, labor journalist Sarah Jaffe describes it as a complete rupture; it is both sorrow and rage. In her radical vision of grief, Jaffe insists that it becomes part of the mourner. It tinges the past, invades the present and forms the future. Grief insists that we are intertwined, complex beings, and not commodities or cogs—and thus, she asserts, grief defies the pulverizing effects of unbridled capitalism.

In this steadfastly personal book, Jaffe explores her own grief after the death of her father. But the death of a loved one is not the only source of grief she explores and honors. From the Ashes recounts the grief felt by refugees forced to leave their homes; workers whose livelihoods and communities were destroyed when they became unprofitable; “essential” workers who were overworked and underprotected during the COVID-19 pandemic; and survivors of climate change disasters. Their grief is intense, and reading about it can be overwhelming.

But, paradoxically, this book about sorrow is profoundly optimistic. Jaffe believes that grief, with its terrific rage and energy, can fuel revolutionary changes in our lives, our communities and our world. For example, Mohamed Mire, a refugee from the civil war in Somalia, joined forces with other Somali workers in Minnesota and forced Amazon to the bargaining table. When Margaret Thatcher closed coal mines after a bitter and violently repressed strike, Kevin Horne and other miners became health care workers, recreating the solidarity and community they had lost. After Hurricane Maria ravaged Loiza, Puerto Rico, and it became apparent that the government would not provide aid to the survivors, the women of Taller Salud, a women’s health nonprofit, worked to provide assistance and to demand justice for the people of their community.

Detailed, lucid and richly sourced, Jaffe’s book provides many more examples of these transformations, which offer compelling evidence that we can generate healing, justice and equity “from the ashes.”

Detailed, lucid and richly sourced, Sarah Jaffe’s From the Ashes shows how the transformational power of grief can fuel revolutionary change.
NonfictionLifestylesFashion

Fashion First

Review by Laura Hutson Hunter

Reading through Diane Keaton’s Fashion First is a little like seeing a legacy band on tour. Sure, there’s some time spent on looks that followed outdated trends and brief experimental phases—in Keaton’s case, these are almost always hair-related—but that’s overshadowed by the sheer number of hits. The key moment falls around halfway through the book, when a set of twin images shows Keaton in the tomboyish Ralph Lauren suiting that would soon become her signature style. It’s like hearing the first few bars of “Gimme Shelter”—you know the roof’s about to get blown off. What makes Fashion First all the more exciting is that you can see what it took to get there and the fun Keaton has had along the way. The book is organized like a photo album with a loose chronological structure, beginning with a handful of baby photos, including prescient snaps of a toddler Keaton wearing a bowler hat. The “1960” chapter delves into Keaton’s entrance into theater, never downplaying her interest in costumes first, acting second. If anything, Keaton’s insistence that style matters makes sense when you consider that her most iconic roles are known for their stylishness, from Annie Hall to Baby Boom to Book Club. Handwritten captions add moments of intimacy to a glossy, photo-heavy tome. Still, because this is Diane Keaton we’re talking about, she maintains a self-effacing charm throughout, including several misses alongside her greatest hits. One particular shot from the “1980” chapter shows Keaton in a long-sleeved ankle-length dress, which she’s paired with a very high-collared blouse and loafers, thick wooly socks and layers of pearls. In the caption, she confesses that she was on vacation “somewhere tropical—and no, I am not kidding.” The undercurrent of humor elevates the book from mere fashion bible (although it is that) to an essential record of how to be cool.

Beloved actress Diane Keaton’s Fashion First is both a style bible and an essential record of how to be cool.
NonfictionMemoir

First in the Family

Review by mónica teresa ortiz

In the opening chapter of Jessica Hoppe’s stunning memoir, First in the Family: A Story of Survival, Recovery, and the American Dream, the debut author writes, “The most powerful weapon in the American arsenal is the story.” And what a storyteller she is. Moving between lyrical prose and straightforward narration, Hoppe weaves a multigenerational family saga with biting critiques of the oppressive systems that enable devastating pipelines of addiction. 

Hoppe begins with her own alcoholism and path to recovery. But First in the Family is not your standard recovery memoir. Hoppe, who is a daughter of Honduran and Ecuadorian immigrants, writes that “the conditions caused by the traumas of migration, assimilation, colonialism, and marginalization . . . are never properly linked to substance use disorder: instead they’re pathologized and reduced to stereotypes.” If that sounds heady, keep reading. Hoppe illustrates this argument with memorable scenes that show the fraught histories of homelands and lingering harms passed down in families. 

“I know we carry generations of pain, and because we don’t tend to this sorrow—because we don’t know how to—we continue to hurt others,” Hoppe writes after the passing of her grandfather, her mother’s “greatest tormentor” who abandoned the family when she was a child. Like Hoppe, he had substance abuse disorder. In early sobriety, Hoppe sought out more information about him to understand her own addiction. Her grandfather came of age during the “decades of dictators” in Honduras, working as a laborer for the American-owned United Fruit Company, which was known for its exploitation of workers. Like many others, the company introduced drugs and alcohol to workers, and addiction was used as a method of control. “Overworked and underpaid, alcohol dulled the pang of workers’ oppression,” she writes. Her grandfather “was no match against greedy imperial forces.” His dreams of success turned to disillusionment, and “conditions caused by the traumas” did their work. 

As Hoppe digs further into her family history, she unearths hard truths that her loved ones have hid from one another and, oftentimes, from themselves. First in the Family stitches together recollections from her family with her historical and social investigations, balancing stories of harm and violence with the voice of a tender narrator. The result is a deeply moving memoir about how understanding our histories—both present and past—allows for recovery and healing rooted in the politics of liberation. 

Jessica Hoppe’s stunning debut memoir, First in the Family, shows that understanding our histories allows for recovery, healing and liberation.
Mystery & SuspenseMystery

Death at the Sign of the Rook

Review by Linda M. Castellitto

Fans of Kate Atkinson’s policeman-turned-private eye Jackson Brodie, who debuted in 2004’s Case Histories, will be thrilled to learn he’s back for a sixth outing in Death at the Sign of the Rook.

Jackson last appeared in 2019’s Big Sky, where he contended with crime in an English seaside village. In Death at the Sign of the Rook, a small Yorkshire town serves as a wintry backdrop for art theft and a chaotic murder-mystery party that blurs the lines between dramatic artifice and harsh reality.

We begin with Ian and Hazel Padgett, who have just hired Jackson. Their mother has recently died, an oil painting is missing from her home, and the Padgetts suspect their mother’s caregiver, Melanie, has stolen it. As Detective Constable Reggie Chase joins Jackson in tracking down Melanie, they learn that a painting went missing from nearby estate Burton Makepeace two years ago, and it’s suspected that it was taken by the housekeeper. At one point, Reggie thinks irritably about how Jackson always says “a coincidence is just an explanation waiting to happen.” Is there a connection between the women, the paintings and the thefts? 

In and among the sleuths’ investigatory advances, Atkinson immerses the reader in the inner lives of her emotionally complex cast: the officious Lady Milton; Simon Cate, a vicar who doesn’t believe in God; and Ben Jennings, an injured former army major. Every character’s inner monologue is detailed and eccentric, rife with existential contemplation and dry wit. Their personalities gradually and tantalizingly unfurl, as do their connections to one another (and, perhaps, the mysterious crimes).

Death at the Sign of the Rook kicks into high gear when the cast converges at Burton Makepeace for a murder-mystery weekend. A major snowstorm traps everyone overnight, cell phone service has gone out, and an escaped prisoner—dubbed “Two-Cop Killer Carl Carter” by the media—might be roaming the area, too. While the detectives struggle to discern fact from fiction, murder most foul and hectic hilarity collide as dark secrets are finally revealed. It’s a twisty treat of a read that will totally absorb fans of Atkinson, Agatha Christie and, of course, the inimitable Jackson Brodie.

A murder-mystery party blurs the lines between dramatic artifice and harsh reality in Kate Atkinson’s sixth Jackson Brodie mystery.
Children's & YAPicture BookChildren's

The Dictionary Story

Review by Sara Beth West

Oliver Jeffers is one of the most recognizable and innovative creators in children’s literature today, and The Dictionary Story showcases his vivid imagination at work in yet another collaboration with the wildly inventive Sam Winston (following A Child of Books). An authors’ note explains this picture book as the product of a team of “so many talented friends,” including bookmaker Haein Song, who crafted the handmade dictionary incorporated into each brilliant spread. 

Perfect for youngsters, especially those just learning the alphabet, The Dictionary Story will be appreciated by adults as well, as it brings layers of clever wordplay and elements that may take several encounters for readers to discover. The book introduces a dictionary who isn’t sure of her purpose, given that “she didn’t tell a story like all the other books.” Frustrated by this, Dictionary decides one day to “bring her words to life,” an action that is depicted to readers as drawings that seem to emerge from, leap off and otherwise escape their previously well-ordered pages. Unsurprisingly, a mess ensues, as a hungry Alligator goes in search of something to eat, chasing Donut through the pages and running into figures such as Ghost, Moon and Soap along the way. Dictionary is disappointed that “now nothing was in the right place or even making sense” and worried that “her words would be no use to anyone now.” 

To clean up the chaos, Dictionary calls upon her friend Alphabet and starts the song that “helped put everyone back together again,” restoring order to the words and their definitions. Children will love this opportunity to sing along, and adults will appreciate the chance to reinforce fundamental aspects of reading. Instructive though it may be, The Dictionary Story is even more fun than function, and it will reward repeat encounters, with readers delighted to find the unexpected definitions populating this most unique of dictionaries. A masterful combination of the simple and the complex, this book is sure to be a favorite.

Instructive though it may be, The Dictionary Story is even more fun than function, and the unexpected definitions populating this most unique of dictionaries will reward repeat encounters.
FictionLiterary Fiction

Creation Lake

Review by Lauren Bufferd

From a women’s prison in California’s Central Valley to an elite community in 1950s Cuba, novelist Rachel Kushner is a master of the singular setting and bold protagonist. Creation Lake is no exception and, in fact, raises the stakes with its cerebral take on the spy thriller. 

Brainy, ruthless and beautiful, Sadie Smith (not her real name, mind you), has made a career of undercover work exposing and identifying radical activists. Once an employee of the U.S. government, she’s gone freelance and is working for a foreign conglomerate, trying to push eco-protestors into committing acts of violence. Sadie’s latest mark is an artsy, privileged Frenchman, Lucien, who ‘met’ Sadie in Paris. Believing that their encounter was a happy accident, Lucien has asked Sadie to accompany him to a small village where his family owns property and his school friend Pascal leads Le Moulin, a small agricultural cooperative protesting corporate farming. Lucien hopes Sadie can help them translate their ideas for an English-speaking audience; Sadie’s goals are a bit different. 

The Moulinards of Le Moulin, a sketchy and disorganized bunch at best, draw influence from an older revolutionary, Bruno Lacombe, who communicates only through rambling philosophical emails sent from an underground cave. Skeptical of all modern interpretations of civilization, Bruno believes that cultivating our Neanderthal characteristics might be the only way to survive. Despite her cynicism, Sadie is drawn in by the purity of Bruno’s ideas and by the extreme choices he’s made for his life, choices that force her to reconsider her own. 

Creation Lake is no Emily in Paris: Sadie’s corner of France is stale baguettes, superhighways, cheap wine and Guns N’ Roses cover bands. Sadie herself is no less acerbic; her only weakness seems to be a reliance on booze and vanity over her surgically enhanced (but tastefully so, she reminds us) bosom. Kushner has taken the bones of the traditional spy novel and spun it into something that is as thought-provoking as it is fun, an intellectual thriller that deviously suggests there could be another fate for our disaster-bound species, should we take the time to think it through.

Rachel Kushner has taken the bones of the traditional spy novel and spun it into something that is as thought-provoking as it is fun, an intellectual thriller that deviously suggests there could be another fate for our disaster-bound species.
Children's & YAYA FictionYA

Death at Morning House

Review by Norah Piehl

What was supposed to be an incredibly romantic first date with her longtime crush, Akilah, instead nearly becomes Marlowe Wexler’s undoing, when the custom candle she ordered in Akilah’s favorite scent explodes, burning down a house belonging to Marlowe’s family friends. Is it any wonder that Akilah breaks things off rather than dating an accidental arsonist?

Heartbroken and more than a little embarrassed, Marlowe eagerly accepts an unexpected offer to get far away from her hometown of Syracuse, New York, and work as a summer tour guide at Morning House, a historic mansion in the Thousand Islands region of the St. Lawrence River. Marlowe’s a quick study, so she knows from day one that Morning House has an infamous history. The onetime home of celebrated wellness pioneer (and eugenicist) Phillip Ralston, his glamorous wife Faye and their seven children, Morning House was the site of a 1932 tragedy that left two of the Ralston children dead under mysterious circumstances. 

What Marlowe doesn’t know until she arrives and starts becoming acquainted with the other tour guides—a diverse group of eccentric teens united by their shared history of growing up nearby—is that there’s a more recent mystery afoot, one with ominous echoes of the past . . . and perhaps ongoing danger in the present. 

Maureen Johnson, the bestselling author of the Truly Devious series, crafts a whip-smart standalone whodunit in Death at Morning House. Scenes from the Ralston family’s deceptively idyllic life in 1932 alternate with those chronicling Marlowe’s growing confidence in her detective skills, even as someone disappears, a storm approaches and conditions on the island become ever more perilous. Johnson has consistently excelled at incorporating historical material in novels starring smart, quirky, appealingly flawed protagonists, and dual timelines mean there’s more than one mystery to solve. Readers won’t soon forget their tour of menacing Morning House.

Maureen Johnson crafts a whip-smart standalone whodunit in Death at Morning House, with a narrative that alternates between past and present.
FictionSatireLiterary Fiction

Colored Television

Review by Arlene McKanic

There’s no little irony to the release of Danzy Senna’s Colored Television. It’s come just when all those beleaguered novelists who thought writing for TV would make them some real money are realizing that writers’ rooms are the latest creative labor bait and switch. Instead of wealth and acclaim, they’re faced with impossible demands, zero respect and such dismal pay that they still have to take a second job to cover rent.

Jane Gibson and her husband Lenny belong to that class of people now called the precariat. These folks work, and may indeed be talented, but they find it tough to make a consistent living. Jane has published one novel and she’s been trying for a decade to produce a follow-up. She teaches, without tenure, to make ends meet. Lenny, supremely disdainful of just about everything and everyone, is an artist whose paintings don’t sell. Because of this, they suffer from a genteel homelessness; when we meet them they’re housesitting, yet again. This time their benefactor is Jane’s old friend Brett, who’s making a killing as a showrunner. Jane and Lenny have two young children to care for, too: Finn is bright and possibly autistic, and Ruby is now old enough to feel the effects of her family’s essentially vagabond state.

Then, almost miraculously, Jane finishes her book, a doorstopper about mixed-race Black and white Americans over centuries. She has a personal connection to the topic, since she’s biracial. But when she presents the fruit of her labor to her long-suffering agent, it’s rejected (unsurprisingly, to the reader). Shocked and desperate, Jane decides to pinch Brett’s agent. Instead of a book about mixed-race people, she’ll develop a TV show about them: “The Jackie Robinson of biracial comedies,” exults a TV producer she meets with.

Senna’s sense of the absurd is impeccable, evident throughout Jane’s time in what Hollywood types call “development hell,” and building toward a moment near the very end that will make you gasp, “Oh no!” The book is hilarious even as the reader senses the despair beneath the laughs. Colored Television is the perfect story for our times.

Read our interview with Danzy Senna about Colored Television.

Danzy Senna’s tale of a novelist’s venture into Hollywood is hilarious even as the reader senses the despair beneath the laughs. Colored Television is the perfect story for our times.

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