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I scraped by my science classes in high school, but still loved this science-themed young adult novel, about a soon to be college student who spends her summer trying to win back her ex using an experiment her mother bequeathed to her. Maya is a character who's very book smart, but is struggling in the social arena, especially after her boyfriend dumps her. She even sabotages a budding friendship in the name of winning him back, justifying it, along with possibly ruining her job in a lab, in the name of the experiment. She's also still grieving her mother and trying to get to know her better by following in her footsteps, though her dad helps discover that there's no formula or single right path for those kinds of emotions. Even though it's about a teenager with a dead parent, this isn't a dark YA book. It's a sweet and charming look at how an experiment can go awry and how the romance we hope for and dream about isn't always the one that's best for us. Highly recommended for teens, especially those interested in science, and romantics at heart.

This fun children's book might be even better than the first one, The Day The Crayons Quit. In this book, a series of lost and damaged crayons write postcards home to Duncan, begging to be rescued. Their woes are written in crayon, of course, as they describe when and how Duncan last used them. Kids will love the age appropriate humor (especially the brown crayon) and there's a few fun nods to adults as well. There's even a glow in the dark page, which my cousins found especially thrilling. And who wouldn't be charmed by a pea green crayon renaming himself Esteban the Magnificent? Whether or not you read kids have read the first one, this cute book will have them smiling, and likely looking for their own lost crayons.

This very queer, very millennial novel by YouTube stars (Just Between Us) Gaby Dunn and Allison Raskin is the perfect gift for a college graduate. It's about two best friends with very different personalities who have to fend for themselves at their respective colleges. Ava has spent much of her young life in therapy and has to adjust to being largely on her own, her anxieties and mental health issues exacerbated by the new environment. Gen is busy with drama on the school newspaper, being politically active and coming out as bisexual. What's remarkable about this novel is that there's sex and romance but the deepest relationship is between these best friends. The authors pack a lot of emotion into communication that's often done via emoji, especially when Ava fails to understand why transgender rights are so important to Gen, whose coworker and sometime crush at the paper is trans. This book is like an insider's look at freshman orientation. While fictional, it gives a slice of college life that shows that I can't imagine existing 20 years ago when I went to college. Both are well versed in the language of mental health and queer politics, but also have a lot of growing up to do, as befitting first year college students. This is a breezy, fast read that will likely make you want to text your best friend, and handles issues like alcoholism, troubled parents, prescription drugs and mental health, coming out, dating and social anxiety in smart, relatable ways.

In this hilarious and helpful memoir in essays, Franchesca Ramsey breaks down online misbehavior and how to handle it with an expert's voice while telling her story of fledgling YouTuber to superstar. She reveals what it was like for her famous S--- White Girls Say to Black Girls video to go viral, both the highs and the lows, including being criticized savagely by those she thought were on her side. In the process, she also deconstructs the difference between constructive criticism, whether calling out or calling in, and barbs that ultimately are unlikely to be heard or absorbed by the recipient. This is brought to light in her chapter "Guess Who's Coming to Dinner (It's Lena Dunham) about having mocked Dunham's show Girls online, along with the creator herself, only to find herself seated next to her at a private dinner. She also writes about activism and self-care, the balancing act of unfriending people on social media, her interracial relationship and how such relationships are treated by both white people and black people, and much more. I found the chapter "Stop Hating and Start Studying," about professional jealousy and learning from her online nemeses rather than simply snarking, the most insightful and relevant to my life. As befitting the title, Ramsey shares many of her mistakes, from responding too heatedly online (sound familiar?) to piling on a person who eventually left the platform she was being berated on, to other foibles that show she isn’t looking down from on high as a social media master but instead sharing her evolution as an online personality who wields a lot of power with her words. You don't have to be an activist to take away a better sense of how to conduct yourself online from this book, but activists will likely glean even more insights, as it's largely geared around her activist work but also relatable to anyone who's glued to their phone. This book is likely to make you laugh, and if you spend any time at all online, to also make you think...and think twice before posting that next comment, anonymously or not.

Make sure you have tissues handy when you read this memoir, which is about a writer's evolution as an advice giver via her love letter column, as well as her relationship with her mother, who's diagnosed with cancer, her sister, estranged father, work husband and exes. It's also about dating, but not in the traditional format of the single girl memoir, who struggles and struggles only to get her happily ever after at the end. Her personal story is interspersed with relevant letters and answers from her and her readers from her Boston Globe column. This book is also about work and ambition and how to juggle deep passions for your job and love of your family, and not always taking care of yourself along the way, hence the title. It's written in a relatively light, breezy style that makes it a quick read, but one that is emotionally searing. Meredith is clear-eyed in her perceptions of herself, with her own foibles and sometimes pickiness when it comes to dating, but also offers up an antidote to all the messages women (and men too, to a lesser degree) get about sex and dating being the center of our universes. They aren't for Meredith, which sometimes she's happy about, and sometimes she isn't. This is also a funny book; I dare you not to laugh at her pop culture comparisons regarding her dry spell. For anyone with a loved one going through a major illness, you'll likely recognize parts of yourself in this very personal and fascinating memoir.

It's rare to read a dating memoir that doesn't end with a sweeping happily ever after, where all the narrator's struggles were worth it because they found true love. Unwifeable follows a different model, even though former New York Post reporter Mandy Stadtmiller does find love. This is not a book about finding "The One." It's a book about gossip, both the business and the name-dropping kind woven throughout, ambition, journalism, New York, lust, drugs, addiction and eventually slowing down enough to appreciate not the flashy kind of love, or the relentless negging by her ex, but a more steady, partnership kind. This is an easy read that you can tear through, with cameos by Courtney Love and Aaron Sorkin and Marc Maron and other familiar names, but I found its takeaway much deeper. I've read a lot of dating memoirs and a lot of addiction memoirs and while this one definitely has its romantic and drug-fueled rock bottoms, it's not at all formulaic. Stadtmiller boldly shares some of her most shameful moments, both drunken antics and emotional lows, including staying with an ex who was ashamed to be mentioned by her in her writing. By doing so, she offers up a read that I am pretty sure will be familiar to any woman (and likely other genders) who's at all dipped their toes into the dating pool.

I'm not a dog person, but I loved this graphic novel about Nicole Georges's troublesome, often misbehaving dog who nobody except her seems to want. Clearly, Beija is part of her family and a pet who she can't abandon. This isn't a typical cuddly, aren't-dogs-amazing story. It's more of a this-dog-is-exasperating-but-lovable-unconditionally story. The black and white drawings are the perfect complement to her story. You don't have to know dogs or care about them to fall for the human/animal bond portrayed here.

This is not necessarily the book you'd expect Strip City author Lily Burana to write, and yet for many reasons, that's what makes it all the more engaging. This book is, in some ways, Military Wife 101 for the modern era, complete with Burana's immersion into that world, her culture shock, and the stress places on her marriage by both her husband's career and their own histories. She meets her future husband while volunteering with a friend, and is intrigued by him, while also a little skeptical. He represents so much that her anarchist past has taught her to despise, but her curiosity outweighs these qualms and they begin dating, eventually moving in together and marrying. But how much of herself is Burana burying in her attempt(s) to fit in? How can she carve out her own life while merging it with her mate's? These are questions she examines and reexamines, looking upon her new neighbors with both a journalist's eye, and a less distanced one. At her best, Burana looks at the dark side(s) of this life: of her own PTSD and how that almost led to the dissolution of her marriage, of wrestling with Abu Ghraib and what it means to be part of a culture that doesn't discuss such atrocities. Their time apart is wrenching to read about, yet important. Burana also looks at "don't ask, don't tell" and gays in the military not so much as an "issue," but from the perspective of her queer friends who are involved in the military, or have been, offering up more acceptance of their homosexuality from within than I would have expected. Burana offers a fascinating glimpse not just into the life of a military wife, but in her leap from punk rock stripper to West Point spouse. There are times, though, where rather than just being about loving her man in uniform, Burana espouses a love of men (and women) in uniform, and the military in general, that can seem a bit too overenthusiastic. A minor quibble, though, with a riveting book that offers up drama, history, kitsch, burlesque and patriotism in ways that are uniquely Burana's. And what other book is going to offer cameos by Madonna, Karl Rove, and Donald Rumsfeld?

Insatiable is not, like any memoir about an eating disorder, an easy read. There are binges and paeans to suicide and disturbing moments when Rivera leaves her two sleeping toddlers to go for a run. I found the chapters in which Rivera plans to commit suicide the most compelling, and they most starkly show the depths to which Rivera sank over the course of her eating disorder. Yes, there are dramatic, detailed descriptions of food here and what Rivera did with it, everything from amassing it to hiding it to chewing and spitting it. In one scene, her daughter's keen sense of smell sniffs out the binge Rivera is sneaking. In many ways, this is telling, in that Rivera is able to hide her affliction from many around her, including her parents (despite a teenage eating disorder episode), but her daughters bluntly call her on her issues. Rivera, to her credit, does not gloss over these moments, or the ones where she ignores her daughters to focus on Ana and BB (anorexia and Binge B---h, as she calls them). By personifying her eating disorder, she helps make it relatable. Rivera doesn't necessarily get into where her eating disorder came from, though she touches on the instability of her childhood; instead she focuses on the damage her eating disorder did to her thinking, her body and those around her, including men she dates after her divorce. It's to her credit as a writer that some of the most beautifully written scenes are the most unnerving. Other reviewers have pointed out that Rivera was self-involved; indeed, that seems to me the very point of this memoir, that food, above all else, was what ruled her (well, food combined with body image). Even when doctors questioned her motives, she resisted, enthralled by her affair with Ana. I've read many eating disorder memoirs and while, to a degree, they all echo each other, due to the nature of the subject matter, Rivera's stands out both in covering the children and family life, and the nuance of the writing. While extreme, Rivera's body dysmorphia will also, sadly, be familiar to many women.

This is part financial memoir, part how to get out of debt advice. It's the latter that truly spoke to me. Even if you aren't able to go on a complete spending fast, like the author did, where you only spend money on things you actually need for a given period of time, this book can help you save. There's advice on everything from negotiating lower rates and different due dates with credit cards to declining pricey events and curbing both spending and the desire to spend. It's impossible to read this book and still mindlessly order things that will sit around. Reading this has made me much more aware of the small "meaningless" purchases I make for items that are only exciting in the acquisition. That the author was able to pay off over $20,000 in under a year and a half on a small salary is impressive and, as she shows, doable. This isn't just a cheerleading type of "you can do it" platitude. There are actionable steps in each chapter. I'm not doing all of them, like reusing my dental floss, but many are relatively easy, especially the more often you do them. This book isn't just for people who want to take extreme action but anyone struggling with the cycle of debt as well as shame around debt. It helped remind me that there's a light at the end of the tunnel of debt and that by being proactive about it, I can make a difference, rather than feeling controlled by what I owe.

Hate to Want You is both a classic romance with a heroine and hero who can't be together because their families are enemies, and a very modern one. Livvy and Nicholas have been meeting once a year for secret hookups that nobody else knows about. They both thought this was the perfect arrangement after their teenager relationship and dramatic breakup after her dad and his mom are killed in a car accident, with each family blaming the other. He runs the family grocery business, that used to be co-owned by her family, and she's a tattoo artist who travels around the country but is back home to take care of her mother. Rai writes the tension between them so beautifully and sensually, both in the sex scenes and throughout. I also really appreciated that Livvy deals with her depression and mental health openly, sharing that this is a part of her, not just something that can be swept under the rug or "solved." She uses coping techniques learned in therapy throughout the book. She struggles but pushes through so her eventual happy ending is hard fought. Whether you're a regular romance reader or a newcomer to the genre, this is an outstanding contemporary romance with a very strong heroine who is allowed to keep her toughness but also show her heart.

The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo is a juicy, gossipy, fun, bittersweet queer novel spanning mainly the 1950's-1980's featuring a bisexual Cuban-American actress. Evelyn Hugo (nee Herrera) makes it from Hell's Kitchen in New York to Hollywood stardom using every ounce of cunning she has. Becoming famous isn't necessarily easy, but is something she's determined to do. When she falls in love with an actress named Celia St. James, she is thrown for a loop but also happy in a way she never has been with men. The story of her seven husbands unfolds as she tells a biographer she's hand selected her life story. The husbands are, largely, a cover for her love affair with Celia, who differ on whether their outing would spell disaster for them.This is a tour through grand adventures on the screen and off, the studio system, backstabbing, jealousy, beards and love both sexual, romantic and platonic. It made me wonder whether there are actresses (and actors) living in secret today hiding behind spouses of the opposite sex. Evelyn is the kind of character I could so easily picture, who's at turns maddening and selfish and someone I felt sorry for. This is the kind of book I was sad to get through, even though it kept me riveted throughout, because I was so engrossed in the story. It's rare to see a bisexual protagonist in such a mainstream setting, let alone such a complicated one. It was my first by Taylor Jenkins Reid, but won't be my last.

I can't say enough good things about this book. Firstly, it's written by two authors, who each have different lived experiences and approaches to gender. Though they both reject our culture's insistence on a gender binary system and both share many commonalities, having two writing styles and approaches makes for an interesting read that never gets complacent. Secondly, the short format, which Ivan Coyote has mastered (do go read everything else Coyote has written too, because the use of language is so wonderfully succinct), means "big" topics like chest surgery and pronouns are broken down into smaller components, making for a rich reading experience. Both grapple with being gender nonconforming, and explore how various alternative and mainstream communities react to them, their bodies and their gender (or non-gendered) presentations. I know my experience of using one will never be the same after reading Ivan Coyote on how hard it is to use public bathrooms (or washrooms). Coyote discussed many things I'd never considered before, including their genuine fear. This is a topic very much in the news of late, with Austin recently approving gender neutral bathrooms. While this book is certainly political, it is in the "personal is political" sense. Both authors evolve over the course of the book and, to my reading, want the reader to form their own conclusions as well. They both constantly confront their own stereotypes and beliefs around gender, packing and unpacking them, exploring why one gender choice or pronoun or practice works for them at one point in time, and doesn't in another. The only negative thing I can say about this book is that it made me which I'd caught the live acts, but these words are as alive as words on a page can be. Especially in the wake of Leelah Alcorn's death, this is an important book. No, not the only important book about gender, but one that illuminates many of the ways gender and gender roles are pushed on us from childhood and how that affects these authors as adults. Rae Spoon's experiments with YouTube take gender nonconformity into the world of music and online sharing and the results are sometimes heartening, sometimes sad. Whether or not you've ever thought about the meaning of gender before, this book is worth checking out. Also because the pieces are so short, you can read it all at once (I couldn't stop), or in smaller chunks.

This book is, of course, about porn, but it's also about pride, identity, family and grappling with how one's chosen profession or avocation plays out amongst the rest of your life. There are a lot of stories here about coming out to family members; sometimes it goes well, sometimes less so. Often, how others react changes over time. One thing is for sure: if you think you know what it's like to be a porn star or a porn director or creator, this book is sure to enlighten you, because it doesn't just offer one answer or perspective, but numerous ones. You'll read about those driven from an early age to take off their clothes for the cameras, and others, like feminist director Erika Lust, who were driven to create new kinds of images onscreen from what they were seeing.

If you're experiencing some Trump news fatigue, The Castle is an excellent escape, of a sort. This fast-paced thriller is about a corrupt egotistical businessman, Rawson Griggs, who has a lot in common with 45, except he's even more sinister. Remy Stanton discovers this after he saves Griggs' daughter's life, joins the campaign and gets a close up view of the greed behind the campaign. This book has all sorts of political twists and turns, many reminiscent of the 2016 election, from the candidate singling out a journalist to foment a fired up, press-hating crowd to planted stories and more. The parts that differ from real life are also riveting but still made me wonder, could something like this actually happen? An excellent read for both mystery lovers and politics junkies (though you don't have to be either of those to get into it).

I've been following Sue Jaffarian's Odelia Grey mysteries for several years and they are always a delight. This latest one is no exception. One of the reasons they work so well is that Odelia manages to literally stumble across dangerous situations that lead to murder but Jaffarian makes them sound totally plausible. In this case, Odelia and her wheelchair-using husband Greg come across a dog trapped in a car on a hot day and break the window to rescue the dog. As it turns out, the owner is a Real Housewife type of reality star who's angry that they've intruded. Soon thereafter, a stranger who was helping them with the rescue is murdered at the doorway of Greg's business. This leads Odelia down various paths, from a man in a home for people with disabilities to a secret pregnancy, while she tries to find the murderer...and deal with getting fired from her longtime paralegal job and figuring out if Greg has a long lost child. Yes, all of these various strands are woven together. This is a very emotional book that deals with a lot of big life changes for Odelia and Greg, and also shows off Odelia's smarts and her sometimes dangerous desire to uncover the truth no matter what. This is an excellent addition to the series, but if you're a new reader, I recommend starting from the first book and going in order.

This isn't a book of erotica, but about erotica, though fans of sexy stories will appreciate it because it has all the charm of women's fiction like Sophie Kinsella, set in a specific religious community. Nikki doesn't quite fit in with her religious mother and marriage-minded sister, and doesn't want to live her life solely within the insular, to her mind, Sikh world in London. Instead she rebels in her own way, leaving law school because it's not her passion and living and working above a pub. But she needs money, so she answers an ad to teach English to the title's Punjabi widows. But she soon finds that they're not just docile little old ladies, but women with rich personal histories who are tired of being forgotten, overlooked or shunted aside. Some had good marriages, some had not as good marriages; what they are looking for now that those marriages are over is conversation and freedom. Nikki provides that safe space for them so spin sexual fantasies in the form of largely autobiographical stories, ones that at first shock her. Oh, and there's also a separate plotline involving a mystery that Nikki hears snippets of gossip about that leads her deeper into its heart and a rift between her boss and one of her students, and a budding romance for her. There are a lot of subplots here, but somehow, they work well together. This multigenerational story gives older women credit for their life experiences and is funny, sweet and gripping.

Here We Are is an excellent look at what feminism (or really, feminism) is all about from over 40 authors and illustrators. Just by the sheer numbers, it gives a variety of perspectives from the deeply personal to the political, and touches on everything from body image to friendship to relationships to transgender issues to race and much more. What's wonderful is that it doesn't dictate what readers of any age should think, but gives them ideas and facts and perspectives to incorporate into their own way of thinking. While aimed at teenagers, as someone in my forties I found it helpful, especially Jensen's take on impostor syndrome. I like the format of short pieces, including some drawings, and that the authors aren't trying to write grand manifestos but simply give short yet powerful takes on everything from heroines in literature to career to community. While every reader may not equally relate to every piece, I do think there's something every reader can take away from this book and will be giving it to all the teens I know.

Do yourself a favor and read this YA novel no matter what your age before the movie comes out in a few weeks. This is one of the most beautifully written YA novels I've ever read. Madeline is not like other teenagers: she hasn't left her house since she was a baby, due to a rare allergy that's compromised her immune system, and stays within its white walls with only her mother (her father and brother died before she can remember), plus her nurse, Carla, to care for her. Instead, she escapes into the fantasy of books, living vicariously through them. She's happy with that arrangement, until a boy named Olly moves next door. She tries to ignore him at first, but curiosity gets the better of her and they begin their own form of friendship. Yoon weaves in prose along with artwork, drawn by her husband, and IM messages, official documents and Madeline's quirky ultra-short book reviews as a way of taking us inside her world. It's a rich one, despite the fact that she hasn't "lived" in the way most of us would truly think of living. She's wise for her age when it comes to book knowledge, but incredibly sheltered in almost every other way. Madeline's upbringing could have made her not just quirky but forlorn, depressed or bitter, but she's not. She's gotten used to her world, but when it starts to open up as her relationship with Olly develops, she starts to see it with new eyes. It's Madeline's transformation from accepting to curious, when she begins to envision something new for herself, to let herself admit to loving Olly, that this book really takes off. Madeline ruminates about love in ways I don't think any of us, no matter what our age, truly can master, because there are no guarantees and no way to know if you've done the right thing. Madeline has to balance what she's willing to risk for love and self-knowledge, and she risks quite a lot here, including her life. I was like the baby who's going viral because he cries when a book ends. I didn't want to part with Madeline, but I'm so glad I have her voice in my head. She is not so sage or wise beyond her years that she knows everything, but rather is brave enough to keep searching and exploring and learning about herself and the people around her. Highly recommended.

I have to admit that when I first heard about this memoir, even though I'm a devoted book lover and have been since I learned how to read, I wondered what a book about an author's book collection would be about. Would it just be a list of books, most likely ones I hadn't read and probably never would? But from the first page, I was utterly entranced, because Paul speaks to readers--not just the readers of her specific book, but people who simply love to read. (Yes, I have this book as both the Kindle edition and in print, but once you start reading if you are at all old school, you will become easily convinced by her persuasiveness that paper is always better.) Paul walks us through her journey as a lifelong reader as well as a bibliophile, who doesn't just passively read but becomes immersed in books, both fiction and nonfiction, as well as fascinated by the lives of their creators. She tries to meet Spalding Gray, so moved by his work and convinced they could be literary BFFs. Each chapter's title covers a different book, from classics like The Grapes of Wrath and Anna Karenina to The Hunger Games (which she read after giving birth) to an assortment of titles, some of which I've heard of, some of which I haven't. And in case you're thinking, I don't know anything about those books, the beauty of this book is that you don't have to. She's not analyzing every plot Cliffs Notes style, but personal style. She weaves both the plot of her beloved books and how she came to read them with how they affected her at a given moment in her life, much of it while traveling. In fact, the plot of her own life somewhat sneaks up on you. You think you're at a happy high point only to realize that things are about to go downhill. Paul writes of reading as a sister, daughter, mother, girlfriend, wife, friend, traveler (reading Swimming to Cambodia while in Cambodia) and professional book reviewer, and how each of these roles and relationships changes her relationship with books. This was definitely a book I raced through, but also wanted to slow down and savor. Perhaps the greatest compliment I can pay it, and likely one I would imagine anyone reading it will walk away from, is that Paul made me want to read books I've never thought about reading before, like The Trial, Slaves of New York and Swimming to Cambodia, largely based on the passion with which she discusses them. That’s another curiosity about this memoir: Paul’s actual Bob only contains the book titles, but she’s able to make them seem as if she read them recently (or at least, her interest in these books hasn’t seemed to wane in the intervening years). She's not trying to foist her favorite books onto readers (this is not a "this is what you should read" book, but rather a "this is how these books touched my life" book), but nevertheless, these books are vivid characters here. By the end, I wished I'd had a book of books for all those hazily remembered titles I recall clinging to, learning from, and being fascinated by but whose memories now consist only of the color of the book cover and the genre.

Mama Tried made me laugh out loud many, many times. No, I don't have kids yet, but am hoping to soon, and this book was both informative and a little disturbing. Let's just say, I'm glad I won't be raising kids in Brooklyn. But what I most appreciate about Flake's approach is that she's able to laugh at both herself and the parenting world around her and the chaos that having kids can bring to your life. Her essays are heartfelt and honest and spare very little about the sometimes harsh, sometimes wondrous reality of her experience of motherhood, and the cartoons are a delight (my favorite is the one about why your baby is crying, which I won't spoil, save for say that one made me snort with laughter). This isn't just a "look at all the ridiculous things hipster moms do" book, although there's some of that. Flake also explores how her thoughts, feelings and everyday life changed once she got pregnant, how unprepared she was for those changes, and what those have meant for her relationship. I'm giving this is a gift to a new mom, who I hope appreciates it as much as I did.

This is one of the most beautifully written YA novels I've ever read. Madeline is not like other teenagers: she hasn't left her house since she was a baby, due to a rare allergy that's compromised her immune system, and stays within its white walls with only her mother (her father and brother died before she can remember), plus her nurse, Carla, to care for her. Instead, she escapes into the fantasy of books, living vicariously through them. She's happy with that arrangement, until a boy named Olly moves next door. She tries to ignore him at first, but curiosity gets the better of her and they begin their own form of friendship. Yoon weaves in prose along with artwork, drawn by her husband, and IM messages, official documents and Madeline's quirky ultra-short book reviews as a way of taking us inside her world. It's a rich one, despite the fact that she hasn't "lived" in the way most of us would truly think of living. She's wise for her age when it comes to book knowledge, but incredibly sheltered in almost every other way. Madeline's upbringing could have made her not just quirky but forlorn, depressed or bitter, but she's not. She's gotten used to her world, but when it starts to open up as her relationship with Olly develops, she starts to see it with new eyes. It's Madeline's transformation from accepting to curious, when she begins to envision something new for herself, to let herself admit to loving Olly, that this book really takes off. Madeline ruminates about love in ways I don't think any of us, no matter what our age, truly can master, because there are no guarantees and no way to know if you've done the right thing. Madeline has to balance what she's willing to risk for love and self-knowledge, and she risks quite a lot here, including her life. I was like the baby who's going viral because he cries when a book ends. I didn't want to part with Madeline, but I'm so glad I have her voice in my head. She is not so sage or wise beyond her years that she knows everything, but rather is brave enough to keep searching and exploring and learning about herself and the people around her. Highly recommended.

I read this book and was utterly engrossed, not because I love a good mystery, but because of Ash's voice. He is lovelorn, trying to get over the death of his ex, Chell, even though it's not totally clear just what kind of ex she was, he is also determined to get revenge for her death. He starts off on a journey that takes him all over New York City, across boroughs and bridges, but also across generations and gentrification. The book weaves from his present, visiting various underworlds with a brash fearlessness that comes from having lost pretty much everything, to his past, trying to figure out what his dad's death and legacy have meant to him. I am not actually much of a noir reader, but I don't think you have to be to be drawn into this story. Through Ash's attempts to peel back the layers of what happened to Chell, he also has to peel back his own layers, his own romanticism about New York, a much-changed city, and about his own place in it. This is a mystery at its heart, but I also found myself caring less about the exact whodunnit and more about how Ash worms his way in and out of trouble. For me, Ash's scrappiness, his willingness to do anything to get to the bottom of Chell's death, including go up against people who are clearly better armed and far more dangerous, was the biggest draw of this book, even more than the actual outcome, which is my usual way of approaching a mystery. It's to Hart's credit that I almost didn't want him to solve it, because I didn't want the story to end. I look forward to reading the next book in the series for that precise reason.

Wishful Thinking had everything I could want in a novel; an intriguing premise (who wouldn't want to be in two places at once--almost?), interesting characters, both primary and secondary (I still don't know what was up with the one red and one black shoe), a bit of romance, and physics details that made me wonder how many of them were true. Of course the idea of a time travel app is outlandish, but somehow, the further I got into the story, the more plausible it seemed. But even though that's the hook of this wonderfully charming novel, its heart is about, well, heart, and what I otherwise find a tedious, irksome phrase, "having it all." Jennifer is given the chance to supposedly "have it all" by being able to do all her work and then some and be with her kids whenever she wants, and be with her new boyfriend, but at what cost? That is the core question of this book and, especially toward the end, Wicoff made me think about some major questions about how I spend my limited time on earth and who I do and don't prioritize. I highly recommend this, and I'm not a mom, though I do think I'd also follow Jennifer's route and accept an app that let me time travel, if given the chance.

I've been reading "how to write" books since long before I became a published writer. I return to them for solace and guidance, for both practical tips and the knowledge that I'm not alone in finding myself by putting words on the page. In Writing Is My Drink, Nestor does something that's not easy to do: she's written a memoir about writing that weaves its advice into the heart of her story. Yes, there are exercises at the end of each chapter, but the exercises are reinforced and made eminently practical by her stories of writing and struggle, whether it's trying to get up the nerve to ask Frank McCourt for a blurb, feeling out of place at her academic job, baring the details of her divorce in The New York Times, learning how to break down a seemingly impossible task into doable segments and learning from art and writing teachers. Her tips are practical and down to earth, seemingly simple but actually extremely wise. This is a book I plan to keep close to me when I get stuck, one that in the process of reading inspired countless ideas for how to tackle the issues I've faced in many half-finished essays. Highly recommended for writers at any stage of their writing journey.

I discovered Rodriguez via her column for Modernloss.com, and was intrigued enough to want to check out her memoir. Her husband's death comes at the start of the book; then, tracing backwards, she shares the story of how they got together, her decision to give up her daughter for adoption when she became pregnant at 18, and her brother's death. The core of the book, though, is about the practical matters surrounding the death of her husband of four years, Alberto. The shock of discovering him dead in their bed only hours after she'd seen him alive is vivid and present throughout the story. There's an immediacy to the writing style here that takes readers right into the heart of both grief and coping with the seemingly endless minutiae of death, the ongoing reminders everpresent in their home and beyond. Rodriguez tackles dating, dealing with family (her own and her husband's), the scattering of his ashes in various locations and her eventual reunion with her daughter in a way that made me want to keep reading. The writing and emotion are raw, yet never without care and thoughtfulness. The portrait painted of their relationship, through flashbacks and mementos and memories, is one of a couple who were different in many ways, but had seared their lives together in pretty much every way, which makes the decisions Rodriguez has to make all the more challenging. Is there sex and drugs? Yes, a little, and it's to her credit that she is unapologetic about what she gets out of them. There's no moralizing here about anything, and certainly no sugarcoating, which is what makes this a brave and haunting memoir.

I stumbled across Raw when I was looking for a light, fun read. I got that and more, including plenty of ridiculousness in this novel about reality TV, publishing, books snobs and adventure. Sepp Gregory a reality star with women lining up for a piece of him--ideally, his impeccable abs that he shows off at almost every opportunity. Sepp is on a book tour for a book his ghostwriter, a struggling Brooklyn author named Curtis, wrote, but that Sepp hasn't read. What happens from there is utterly over the top, including a momentous and game-changing visit to the Playboy Mansion, where Harriet, who up til now has been the epitome of a book snob and easy to hate, takes on a life of her own. It's to Smith's credit that while this book is utterly absurd and about as far from reality as you could get, it's in the most inane and unlikely of the story's adventures that it becomes the most fun. If you're part of the publishing or book blogging world, there's plenty of insider humor, right alongside the most cynical and careerist publicists. But you don't have to be a fan of reality shows, or even books, to enjoy this romp of a novel. In fact, I'd venture that Sepp Gregory, who treats books as pure marketing tools and practically foreign objects, just might enjoy Raw. It's a perfect beach read, whether you're on an actual beach or not, with a bit of snark, and plenty of sex, death and fame.

Cleo Coyle has done it again with an intricate, page-turning mystery, romantic drama between Village Blend owner Clare Cosi and her now-living-in-DC cop boyfriend Mike Quinn as well as that between Clare's daughter Joy and her cop boyfriend, Emmanuel Franco, and techie drama galore. While billionaires seem to be a dime a dozen ever since Christian Grey rolled onto the scene (don't miss the great Fifty Shades joke embedded in Billionaire Blend), this one is different. Eric Thorner is a tech whiz billionaire who wants the best, including the best coffee. He's used to getting his way, and he wants Clare's coffee expertise--as well as her body. When he almost dies in an explosion outside her coffee shop, he tries to sweep her off her feet and makes her an offer that neither she nor her ex-husband and current business partner Matteo (Matt) Allegro can refuse. Together the three travel the globe, which is a new twist for this series; usually we only hear about Matt's coffee sourcing exploits when he's returned. While one of the things I love best about this series is its New York-centered view and tidbits of history about the city, it was fascinating to see Clare get out of her familiar settings and to learn about how coffee affects people in various locations. There's always been a nod to the old-fashioned way of doing things in this series, even though it's firmly set in modern times. From Matt's mother's elegance to the Village Blend's sense of artistic and Big Apple history, Clare's family and business have never been about doing things faster and speedier. So the fun technological prowess of Thorner and his company, from bathroom holograms to very smart phones to the seemingly omniscient Miss House, who gives Clare directions and seems to have eyes everywhere, is a treat. This is one of the most tightly plotted series I've read. I do recommend reading them in order, though technically you don't have to. There are so many little clues and red herrings and references here that make this book both a page-turning mystery and simply a fun read. Even after you're done with the whodunnit, there are recipes galore, including skillet lasagna, which also give a bit of backstory to the characters and when/why they've made each recipe. Coyle adds depth to all the ongoing relationships in the series, romantic and familial--the sideline about Joy's restaurant job in France and the unexpected opportunity to cook for fancy billionaires is a delight--and lets Clare's smarts shine through while never making anything easy to guess. Enjoy this with your favorite cup of coffee, and be prepared to keep refilling it as you stay glued to the story.

This is one of the best books about sex I've ever read, and I've read a lot. What I thought made it stand out is that Spencer is up front, from page one, about her own biases. She's afraid of touch, though she doesn't know why. We later learn she hasn't had sex in ten years. She weaves her personal story in and out of the one she tells about her work as a journalist jumping into an unknown world that takes her to various parts of the United States to explore swingers, casual sex, affairs and more. Spencer is not trying to write an exhaustive account of everything going on behind America's bedroom doors. Rather, she humanizes sex, letting her subjects tell their stories. Does she have opinions? Of course, and while there were moments when I feared that her opinions would get in the way of her ability to understand the subjects she calls (lovingly) her "sex freaks," I don't think it did. Instead, I feel that it made her open to their stories, many of which we don't hear about very often, or if we do, it's under cover of scare tactics (men on the down low and/or interested/having homosexual experiences but who are otherwise living straight lives especially). This is not necessarily an easy book to read, though it is lively and fascinating. I found it hard to read and not empathize with Spencer, yet I also wanted to know more about her fears and concerns. This book is billed as journalism and memoir, and for the most part, the two play off each other extremely well. Spencer focuses on quality and depth, rather than breadth of information, as she allows us to get to know her subjects and their hopes and fears. By being so open about her biases, she also invites the reader to be free in their reactions. I don't believe in judging anyone on their sexuality, but I also think it's not realistic to pretend that there aren't things that disturb even the most supposedly open-minded among us. This is a fascinating, highly readable book that doesn't try to titillate readers, but certainly uncovers some mostly hidden aspects of sexuality, while showing that even those with a double life desire an outlet to unburden themselves. It made me wish for more openness in our culture where people didn't have to hold their sexual secrets so close to them and live in fear, and I admire Spencer for exposing her own and for the compassion and empathy she showed toward her subjects.

Suzy Becker wanted to have a baby...she was pretty sure. But as she reached her late 30's and is single, she isn't sure exactly how she's going to go about it. Just as she falls in love with her best (female) friend, she finds a willing donor, her old friend Steve...who's in Australia. With this unique set of circumstances, Becker chronicles her efforts to get pregnant, with many ups and downs. While much of the details here are medical and scientific, Becker is never esoteric. She breaks down what's happening and what she was feeling and her drawings add levity, from Ziggy the Zygote to a quite apt conversation with her donor, where there's an elephant in the room (drawn sitting at the table with them). She's hopeful yet practical, and to me the main event here is less her eventual pregnancy as her coming to terms with the fact that it might not happen; when she's faced with the phrase "achieving pregnancy" she counters with a handwritten note that "I am not an underachiever--it happens or it doesn't." These are the small outbursts of emotion that are woven into the fabric of this memoir that make it so touching. Clearly, Becker wants to be a mother, but there's an evenhanded approach here, even when she's reluctantly trying meditation. She also offers little tidbits of information about the conception process, both facts and conventional (and sometimes not so conventional) wisdom. Even though this is Becker's very personal story, her forthrightness about her fears and uncertainties and eventual success in having a baby are counter to all the dire scary warnings bandied about often in the media. She doesn't sugarcoat (see "A Bad Chapter"), but adds humor that is greatly enhanced by her drawings.

In Drama High, Michael Sokolove returns to his high school, now called Harry S. Truman High School, to profile drama teacher Lou Volpe, who, despite budget cuts and a flagging economy, has brought acclaim and popularity to his classes and spawned several generations of drama students. While never fawning, Sokolove makes it clear that Volpe has had a disproportionate effect on many of his students, including the author, who never took a drama class. By pushing his students to go deep into the material of plays like Good Boys and True, the main one covered in the book, and the controversial Spring Awakening, he takes many of them out of their comfort zones into something even better. Sokolove contrasts what's happened to Levittown since its founding with its current conditions (for example, of the five giant swimming pools, four have now been filled in) as well as Truman's drama program with competing schools. Along the way, he also tells Volpe's story of coming out (both to himself, his then-wife and, though never as explicitly, to those who know him) as well as his path toward living and breathing theater. While focusing in on a specific school and one extraordinary teacher, Sokolove also paints an often disarming picture of what modern public schooling has become, a numbers game geared toward test scores. Against that backdrop, Volpe's achievements become all the more impressive, and the wealth offered by the very rigorous involvement required turns out to mean more than can be measured on any test. Sokolove intersperses the story of the two years he spent at Truman High with interviews of former Volpe students, and, though brief, their dedication and vivid remembrances of Volpe speak volumes. A fascinating read, which in some ways reminded me of Joe Miller's look at a school's chess team, Cross-X, especially in its underdog element. The students themselves are book smart and street smart and their outlooks and personal dramas, and especially the way they see their theater involvement impacting their futures, stands out. In an age where we so often read about mothers like the ones in Emily Matchar's The New Domesticity, who want to tightly control their children's environments, seeing kids grow up in much tougher circumstances but being both realistic and often striving for more (the scene where Volpe chastises a 23-year-old former student for resting in being "comfortable" is wonderful, not to mention a message that readers of all ages can take to heart) is refreshing. Sokolove owns his own biases, but is never too fawning or matter-of-fact. He is an interested observer who situations Volpe's dedication as rare but never saintly. Highly recommended.

Readers of the Coffeeshop Mystery series will not be disappointed as Clare Cosi gets up close and personal with various suspects after her seasonal unofficial employee Moirin "M" Faigan is found dead on the Bryant Park carousel, outside a party the Village Blend is catering. Clare's beloved police team of Soles and Bass have been split up and the new cop Cosi introduces is hilariously bumbling in his officialdom, leaving Clare to take on this very personal case and protect herself and her employees. THe cast of characters in this Christmas themed mystery, with a delightful nod to O. Henry's story "The Gift of the Magi," make this a treasure, from the reality TV stars knowns as the Double Ds to a womanizing professional hockey player. As a New Yorker, I always appreciate the bits of city history that are woven into these mysteries, but Coyle also keeps Clare and company current by visiting Brooklyn's Barclays Center. There's a sweetness to this story despite the sadness, especially the plotline about the retirement home, as well as a charming goofiness as Coyle skewers reality TV and the overly pompous. I also had quite the hankering to visit a certain gigantic famous toy store that plays a big role in this mystery, if only to see if the $25,000 Barbie foosball table really exists! As always, the plotting is perfect and Clare's loving heart, which extends to her ex-husband, employees and the newly dead, guides her sometimes dangerous decision-making. This is an excellent mystery to curl up with this winter, or to give as a holiday gift (there might be just as many cookies mentioned as coffee, plus there are lots of delicious holiday dessert recipes!).

As an avid reader of celebrity gossip magazines, websites and memoirs, I thought I knew a bit about how celebrity works. At the very least, I knew celebs often court the press and get paid for photo ops. But from reading Jo Piazza's excellent expose Celebrity, Inc., I learned so many more ways celebrities can and do earn money and position their brands in what she calls the Hollywood Industrial Complex. Tackling everything from the rise of the celebrity baby market (and its source, Shiloh Jolie-Pitt), one of the most remarkable chapters in that the numbers are so astronomical, to how Kim Kardashian outdid Paris Hilton in the world of reality TV and its attended much more than fifteen minutes of fame, to Tim McGraw's fragrance line, how rap beefs boost sales, and how celebrities' popularity is measured, Piazza offers up lessons that have stayed with me every time I read a magazine or see a piece of gossip. Piazza also makes it clear that whether it's creating a more charitable image or creating a digital footprint, celebrities must continue to innovate and analyze their own images to stay in the game, lest someone new come along and usurp their role in the power hierarchy. Anyone active online will appreciate her chapter about Ashton Kutcher and his involvement in the tech world, which has both made him plenty of money via various income streams but paved the way for companies to capitalize on celebrity brands online. Definitely worth reading for anyone interested in the inner workings of the financing of celebrity, persona and fame.