It’s 1963 in Tallahassee, Florida, and Elwood Curtis has a bright future ahead of him, enrolled in advanced college courses ahead of high school graduation. Then one innocent mistake lands him in the boys’ reformatory, Nickel Academy. Based on Florida’s real Dozier School for Boys, an institution that operated for over 100 years brutalizing young boys, The Nickel Boys is a vital work of historical fiction, challenging every soul to search out the deep truths of the past, to which all of our futures are anchored.

Howl’s Moving Castle meets Strange the Dreamer in a beautifully crafted fantasy adventure that immediately made its way to my “most-beloved” shelf. Elisabeth was raised in the Great Library, where sorcerous texts are kept appeased and imprisoned lest they transform into menacing beasts. When one such monster escapes, Elisabeth is accused of conspiracy. She’ll need the help of sorcerer Nathaniel Thorn to navigate high society, prove her innocence, and catch the real culprits — but can she trust anyone who gained their power from a deal with a demon?

A debut that entertains, stuns, and dazzles at every risk-taking turn. This is short story as art and it's mind-boggling that the two best stories, “Glow Hunter” (a sensory trip) and “Starlite” (a seedy hotel masterpiece), were not published before this book's release, making your purchase of this collection mandatory. Parsons is a force and her perfect blend of humor, longing, propulsive style, and humid southern atmospherics makes Black Light one of the best books of the year.

It is difficult to believe that Beth Piatote’s stunning collection is a debut. The variety of forms that her writing takes is audacious, and the assured skill with which she pulls it all off is enviable. Each story is filled with insight and empathy and the book as a whole is both moving and invigorating. This is literature at its very best.

The Need is a breathtakingly beautiful, terrifying work of brilliance. Phillips melds thriller with speculative fiction seamlessly and with care, creating a story that examines motherhood as if it were an egg: deftly cracking it open and observing the contents, just before turning up the heat.

From its first beautiful sentence, Mengiste’s magisterial The Shadow King drew me into the stark, dusty sweep of the Second Italo-Ethiopian War. Vast and cinematically written, the novel weaves between Ethiopian soldiers, Mussolini’s troops, Emperor Haile Selassie, and a diverse group of women. It questions the theatre of war and what it means to obey; it questions the roles of women in war, and the various battlefields they traverse; it questions the line between witness and perpetrator. It is the finest and most fascinating novel I have read in a long time, and I hope it lands in many readers’ hands.

I jumped on this new book by Levy since I was such a huge fan of Hot Milk. Her latest is one of the most unique and unusual books I have read both in structure and content. It is intellectual but accessible; complex without being indecipherable; dark but strangely pleasant; and at times quite amusing. The book is a captivating and sly take on what it means to look back on one’s life and try to make sense of it all.

The title of this memoir is no joke. It opens with a dead body, details Phair's affair(s), and never tries to paint the author in a perfect light. It’s as raw and honest as you would expect from her music, if you're into it. Even if you're not, I highly recommend trying her book out anyway. She's a terrific writer.

The Plotters by Un-Su Kim is a beautifully written, dark-humored tale of a den of assassins based in an old library where the orphaned Reseng, now an assassin, was raised by Old Raccoon. Awesome characters are layered with little gems of delight throughout. This book is a sensational pleasure and a pure joy to read. Loved this!

All of Us With Wings is a remarkable, refreshing, dangerous book filled with beautiful language. Michelle Ruiz Keil brings the supernatural, the world of art and music, themes of abuse and agency, and characters so real, my heart broke for more than one of them. This was such a satisfying read, I didn’t want it to end, yet it ended where it should.

Starting a new Bryn Greenwood book is like the best first date — all butterflies and promise. I fell immediately and hopelessly in love with Zee and Gentry, just like I did with Wavy and Kellen in All the Ugly and Wonderful Things. Greenwood writes characters that get into my soul, and I very nearly cannot bear to see them hurt.

When I read it back in March, Mother Winter immediately popped to the top of my best books list for 2019. Portland author Sophia Shalmiyev tells her personal story of strength and perseverance with sharp honesty and vivid scenes. Any mother, feminist, artist, son or daughter, or immigrant will appreciate the gift Sophia has shared with us.

I adored this book. False Knees is a hilarious collection of comics about animals (mostly birds) that are just so dang relatable. I could not stop showing my husband every single comic while I was reading it. You can find Barkman's comics on his Instagram account @falseknees.

So creepy and fascinating! A thrilling debut from a PNW author, this book is really hard to put down. Gyre is a caver who may or may not have falsified some of her credentials in order to get a job. She soon discovers the job itself is not as advertised, and her employer is keeping things from her. Spooky and atmospheric, this book is an amazing combination of psychological thriller, extreme adventure story, and creeping horror. Highly, highly recommended!

Cosmoknights is one of those books I wish I had read in high school when a million questions about sexuality were floating around in my head. The normalcy of queerness is a breath of fresh air and the story is even more so, aside from being fantastic. Templer does a wonderful job bringing her characters to life via her illustrations and the colors she uses are out of this world (pun intended). While I wait with bated breath for the second book, I will be returning to this story again and again.

At first glance, this looks like just another fun sci-fi space adventure. But it is so much more than that. Lesbian gladiators in mechsuits are trying to liberate princesses who are being forced into marriage. I found myself relating to these characters who felt trapped by a misogynistic society. The writing is fast-paced, the art is beautiful, and I loved watching them take on and mess up the patriarchy.

Exhalation's varied and elegant stories speak to what makes us human, and the themes within the stories left me thinking about life and the way I act while navigating it long after I closed the book.

I swiftly fell in love with this book. This was such a realistic and heartfelt portrayal of the complicatedness of coming out as nonbinary, of dealing with an anxiety disorder, of choosing when to trust and when to forgive, of finding family and moving on. The characters are complex and almost tangible and really pack an emotional punch.

This poignant and empowering memoir by the woman formerly known as Emily Doe, the victim in the assault case against Brock Turner, will forever change the way we speak about women, assault, and the justice system. Through this book, Miller gives a voice to victims everywhere; Know My Name will break your heart, then heal it.

A beguiling mix of midlife middle-class ennui, people-will-talk village intrigue, and full-on Pagan folk horror. Experimental, but not difficult once you tune into the gaggle of quietly desperate voices, it brilliantly conveys the damp of the English countryside and the mustiness of an environment where everyone knows (or thinks they know) your business. Subliminal, hallucinogenic, and edged with terror.

Three workers get jobs in a sprawling Japanese factory that is a society unto itself. A paper shredder, a proofreader, and a biologist — their jobs so mundane and pointless as to be suspicious. Oyamada's world of the factory is a unique blend of painfully ordinary and fantastical. What could so easily have become Kafkaesque or literary horror remains a subtle, yet surreal, commentary on capitalist Japanese culture. I found its understated sparseness made the story captivating, and the magical realism was the perfect touch.

If you have ever heard a story about abuse and thought, "Why would this person ever stay in this unsafe situation?," this book is for you. In the Dream House is an astonishing read. It's an eye-opening book about abusive domestic violence in a lesbian relationship, something that is rarely talked about. This memoir is a genre-bending slice of life. It might be one of the best books that I've ever read. Reading it made me want to be a sympathetic person and a better writer, and I have Carmen Maria Machado to thank for that.

The first book in the third trilogy set in Joe's celebrated First Law/Circle of the World universe, this new entry by adult fantasy's biggest rising star is extremely relevant in 2019-2020. Featuring themes of class struggle, capitalist excess, immigration crises, feminist theory, and political upheaval (not to mention tons of the author's signature cutting wit and memorable prose) this is not one to miss if you love intelligent, relevant fantasy.

A brilliant portrayal of a woman having an identity crisis as she totes her toddler from the frenetic pace of the big city to the relative wilderness of small-town northern California. Without the security of her husband, who is trapped overseas in an immigration nightmare, she must find her way on her own. Highly recommended.

The Great Library series is an ode to books and book lovers everywhere, and Sword and Pen finishes that series in a way both wrenching and true. There will always be those who try to control knowledge. There will also always be those who will fight to protect it — by both the sword and the pen.

I have never read a book like this. I don't know if there is another book like this. Tokarczuk's Nobel Prize-winning novel (novel?) weaves an expansive view of time and space together with intimate examinations of the human body. It will make you want to quit your job, shed your identity, get on a plane, get on another, stay moving and see everything of this world that you can. I truly loved it.

Having long been a fan of Ferrett's writing, I knew going in that I would love this book. But I was still surprised by how much I loved it. I devoured it quickly, and fell right into its Kitchen Confidential-in-space feel. This book is about hope and love and the pursuit of one's best self. Simply, it's the food porn space opera with queer characters that you never knew you needed in your life.

I was completely undone by this quiet story of two pastors and their families in 1960s NYC. Expecting a small story, instead I found a profound, empathetic portrait of good people, their joys and sorrows, that is monumental in its humanity.

Impossible to put down, even when it made my heart hurt/stomach turn/eyes sting with tears, Machado's memoir unfolds with the insidious, blooming ache of a bruise into something spectacular and necessary. I wish, for her sake, it were a work of fiction, but the fact that it isn’t — the fact that it breathes life into something that is woefully under-documented and widely ignored — is part of what makes it so powerful. Machado is a brilliant, generous writer, and In the Dream House is nothing short of extraordinary.

Instead of focusing outward on the society that harms us, Kai Cheng Thom excavates the ways trans and queer folks reenact our traumas on each other and confronts the troublesome questions needed to forge a better path. How do we learn from the past when our foremothers have disappeared? What do we do when the revolution hasn't happened yet but babies do? How do we liberate our liberation from the cold heart of neoliberalism? What does it mean to truly abolish the carceral logic of the state within ourselves? How can we, together in the apocalypse, truly choose love? With more books like this one, I think we just might.

How to Hide an Empire: A History of the Greater United States is a fascinating and engaging read. I learned so much! Even the most mundane topics (standards and practices anyone?) were somehow incredibly compelling. This side of U.S. history really lays out how systemic white supremacy is in our government and culture. I mean, wow. Also, I did not expect to be so infuriated by Woodrow Wilson. Immerwahr is an excellent writer, and this will fill in a lot of gaps left out of history class!

Unexpectedly, this turned out to be a joyous book. The 12 characters, mostly black British women, confront racism, sexism, and, in some cases, violence, and somehow transcend the limitations forced on them. I loved the way the book was crafted and layered and how it arced and connected all the characters. A very beguiling and graceful read.

An uplifting yet dark, whimsical yet hard-hitting collection from a bold new 21st-century voice. Using a wide variety of forms such as poems, essays, lists, prayers, daydreams, and even a recipe, this author tells his story of a LGBTQ+ individual struggling with mental health, rejection, trauma from conversion therapy, Christian faith, relationships, and sexuality. With an honest and revealing tone, his writing can be quite serious, but it's certainly not overly depressing, and it's witty, entertaining, and quite often funny. Overall, it's an inventive work that can be read multiple times and enjoyed in passages or as a whole.

Compelling, vivid, and richly composed, Robert Macfarlane’s Underland traverses the European continent, exploring subterranean locales both natural and man-made. With his poetic command of language, keen observational gifts, and worldly perspective, Macfarlane's writing is frequently breathtaking. Seamlessly blending scientific inquiry, nature writing, travelogue, adventure tale, reportage, history, and requiem for our Anthropocenic age, Underland delves deeply — both literally and figuratively. Macfarlane's enthusiasm and awe are contagious, as is his evident sorrow for what our species has collectively wrought and brought to bear on ecosystems near and far. Perceptive, reflective, and educative, Underland is unequivocally one of the year's must-read books — a masterful, exceptional work.

We are living in a moment defined by anger — anger at injustice and those who treat it with indifference (or even glee), anger at the gulf of understanding between divided parts of the country, anger at the impotence that many people feel in a society stratified by race, gender, class, and income inequality. The Topeka School journeys into the white-hot center of that anger, exploring its origins and its consequences, both in the 1990s setting of much of the action and in its reverberations into the present day. It’s also a book about the power, and the limits, of language, and the complications of family in a culture that doesn’t know how to handle its feelings. Nothing else I read this year made me think, or feel, as much as this did.

One way I've been describing Valeria Luiselli's Lost Children Archive is that it reads like a classic — as though even now, you can tell that this is a novel that will be pored over and taught, and will carry its gravity, grace, and intelligence into the future. But it's also immensely compelling, and the second half is so page-turning I raced through on first read, desperate to find out what happened. The story of this family is both revelatory and intimate, and Lost Children Archive is an extraordinary achievement.

It warms my heart to think of all the kids who will be helped and comforted by this lovely book. Instead of shying away from tough feelings, it portrays sadness directly and honestly, offering simple yet powerful tools to try when you're feeling sad. Essential for every child's library!

This book has done the impossible — it has given me hope for the future. Wilding is the true story of how the owners of a depleted British farm decided to return the ecosystem to its natural state in an attempt to make the land viable again — and the fact that 28 years later the plants and animals and insects and soil are all now FLOURISHING is so beautiful and hopeful and moving I can hardly stand it. This planet is desperate for more biodiversity, and Wilding provides an inspirational blueprint for how to get there.

This gorgeous sci-fi novella — which follows two women who are rival agents in a war across timelines — is brilliant, heart-wrenching, intense, and, at its core, deeply romantic. The prose is so beautiful that I found myself snapping my fingers like I was at a poetry reading. An immediate favorite. 

Jia Tolentino seems to have absorbed the cultural battles of this century in such a way that her interpretations — all complexities intact — actually feel definitive. I don't know exactly how she does this but it makes me happy to know that there is an American writer under 40 who, while fully participating in the zeitgeist of her time, has a perspective on it that clearly demonstrates that she can call on our entire intellectual and moral heritage to make sense of it all.

With a Handmaid's Tale-esque society, poly-Latinx culture, and espionage, We Set the Dark on Fire is the perfect dystopian novel for the older YA reader. If that doesn't check all your boxes, add queer love, consent culture, and one sexy shower scene.

Le Guin's collection of blog posts is as enlightening to those who have never heard of her as to those who are longtime fans of her fiction. She is, in her final years, as clever, decent and kind as ever, and her particular voice is readable and wise whether she's talking about compassion in the age of Trump, representation in literature, or just narrating endless hours spent observing her cat. Her insights on aging are occasionally laugh-out-loud funny, but for the most part this collection's joy is simply that it's a few more moments with a Portland treasure.

This Never Happened is a mystery of the heart, an excavation and examination of the known fragments of a mostly unknown story. Piecing her way through the relics and memories of her very odd and broken family, Liz Scott writes with a voice that is fresh, frank, and generous, full of insight and wicked humor. This Never Happened is one of the best books I’ve read in a long time.

In a California college town, a young woman falls into a deep sleep and won’t wake up. This sleeping sickness spreads to more and more people until the town is quarantined. The narrative alternates between reality and the intense dreams of those infected with the sickness. It is eerie, beautifully written, and the pacing is spot-on. This book absolutely captivated me.

In The Yellow House, Sarah M. Broom recounts her family history and life in New Orleans by shifting the focus from the French Quarter to New Orleans East in general, and her mother’s house in particular. She highlights a part of the city usually omitted from guide books, and struggles to keep its story from being washed away by rising tides of inequality and storm surges of shame. This incredible memoir is a necessary and compelling book.

Wow... this book is so necessary and beautiful. A stunning exploration of the meaning of home, of domestic abuse, of the architecture of romantic dreams and optimistic desire, of queer love, and of lyrical realism, In the Dream House is a brilliant successor to Machado's acclaimed first book, Her Body and Other Parties. An innovative investigation of trauma, it explores and overturns a variety of common narrative tropes in order to reveal the many lenses through which a story may be told. This book totally changed my conception of what a memoir can be.

Machado dropped this incredible book into a world eager to overlook instances of queer domestic abuse. It's a no-holds-barred delve into the trauma she experienced, as well as a commentary about the lack of history and documentation of abuse in queer relationships. She does not coddle the reader, instead forcing us to confront a hard truth: queerness is not all sunshine and rainbows, queer people are fully capable of harm, and it is vital that these stories are recorded.

As a poetry newbie, I picked up this Pulitzer finalist’s volume and was surprised by the easy to read and beautiful imagery. Stalling's respect for the ancients shows through. There was so much to enjoy from ancient Greek themes to domestic life to the ubiquitous filler word: “like.”

A work of engrossing excellence that will both disturb and entrance readers, Lisa Taddeo's Three Women is at its core about women's desire, but is a breathtaking achievement in literary nonfiction. At times gruesome and heartbreaking, the power of three women's ability to finally speak honestly about their most private desires shines through. Taddeo has written a masterful debut.

Kingsnorth's desire to live authentically leads him to a small Irish farm, but when his words fail him, his identity as a writer is called into question. Savage Gods is a lyrical meditation on belonging and culture, creativity and language, and doesn’t shy away from asking big, troublesome questions. Can language approximate reality? Can we belong to a place? How should we live? Despite these lofty subjects, Savage Gods stays positively earthbound, not given to pronouncements or easy answers. Instead of navel-gazing, Kingsnorth wisely engages with the world, and Savage Gods is thought-provoking, relatable, and a pleasure to read.

This is a fantastic narrative history of the early development of the solid body electric guitar and bass. Ian S. Port's great storytelling brings the divergent lore of Fender, Les Paul, and Gibson guitars to life, offering a deeper understanding and appreciation of the pioneers that provided the tools to make rock 'n' roll possible.

The fifth and final book in the Lightbringer series, The Burning White is a wholly satisfying read, full of even more plot twists, sacrifice, equally bad choices, epic battles, and much more. This is absolutely one of those books you won't want to stop reading, and it keeps you on the edge of your seat until the last page. Every fantasy fan should read The Burning White as soon as possible.

Dream of the Trenches is a book I know I'll keep coming back to year after year. Indeed, as soon as I got to the end, I jumped straight back to the beginning. I was immediately drawn to Colby's love of language and intellectual curiosity, and this book changed the way I approach my own writing. It's an inspiration and a true joy to read and reread.

I read this memoir-in-essays early in the year, but I still think about it all the time and I have a feeling it'll linger with me for the foreseeable future. We've all been different versions of ourselves over the course of our lives, and we may yet become versions we haven't discovered yet. Philpott explores how all these selves exist within us simultaneously, and how it's possible to miss yourself, to miss a version of yourself that you've been. As humans, we are innately flawed and imperfect and these essays unveil the beauty in that. It's hopeful and beautiful and endlessly relatable; I can't recommend this book enough.

Gideon the Ninth was a thrilling, unique, fast-paced read. It read like a movie, packed with fully choreographed sword fights, necromancy, and gore. I laughed, I cried, and I reread all my favorite chapters over and over again after I finished the book. Also, Gideon the Ninth is so incredibly gay, without focusing on trauma, hardships, or formative gay experiences. It's refreshingly gay. Escapism gay. Queer romance, giant swords, dead things, murder plots, frenemies — what's not to love?

First-time author Peter Houlahan has already figured out how to write as well as the best narrative nonfiction writers out there. Norco ’80 tells the true tale of an epic bank robbery. Not only does the reader get a minute-by-minute account of the day, but Houlahan also brings great depth to the characters involved. Norco ’80 should not slide past the bedside stands of any fans of fast-paced true crime.

Crackling with energy and wholly original, Olga Tokarczuk dazzles with this literary thriller that is both ecofeminist manifesto and page-turning whodunit. Tokarczuk transports the reader to a snowy, isolated plateau in Poland where villagers are mysteriously turning up dead. This book is fierce and essential, fundamentally challenging how we perceive the world.

A novel that every teenager, queer or not, should get their hands on. Before I Wish You All the Best, I had not read a book that so effortlessly includes differing identities, preferences, comfort levels, and experiences. Watching as Ben works through their interpersonal relationships will be eye-opening to so many who need the encouragement and knowledge that there are people just like them in the world — and even more with endless love for them. Ben takes the leap to share their whole self, and while they get upsetting responses from some, they get to live their truth as a nonbinary person.

Surrealist, nightmarish, yet uncannily grounded in reality, Sarah Rose Etter's genre-busting debut novel is a visceral meditation on the fear and pain inherently sutured into womanhood. It devoured me as I devoured it, and I've been manifesting a Yorgos Lanthimos-directed/Independent Spirit Award-winning film adaptation ever since.

Another beautiful and heartbreaking installment in the Wayward Children series. This time we travel with Lundy through her door into the Goblin Market, where rules and fair value govern the world. In the Market, Lundy finds a lifestyle that calls to her, bringing her outside of the life she's always lived inside her head. With each of her visits to the Goblin Market, Lundy feels more and more like she's come home. But what happens when it comes time to decide between your family and your found-family, and will the Market agree?

Once I started reading this fictionalized rock-n-roll bio, I couldn't stop reading for anything. I was hooked. The story arc of these musicians during the days of stadium rock was incredibly realistic. Even the way the characters talked about building a song seemed true. I fell in love with these beautiful, broken, talented, and obsessed people.

When my heart is troubled and I find myself clinging too hard to things I can't control, I return to this beautiful translation of the Tao Te Ching. Le Guin filters the humor and mystery of Lao Tzu's text through her own feminist lens, providing wise commentary on her translation choices and on the many possible meanings that can be found in these seemingly simple poems.

Ambassador Mahit Dzmare is plunged into a new assignment, discovers her predecessor has been murdered, and then navigates her way through a political minefield. Arkady Martine gives us a world that is elegantly constructed, rich in detail, and completely satisfying to the soul.

This is a heartbreaking memoir of an abusive relationship and the person who enters, lives, and leaves the experience. Machado tells her story in short pieces that play with different forms and genres, which serves to capture the dizzying feeling of trying to make sense of abuse as it’s happening, and to understand its ramifications as a survivor. It’s a beautiful, devastating, and hopeful book that broke me open and built new chambers in my heart.

Casey McQuiston’s debut novel is electrifying. I fell in love with Alex and Henry (those emails!), but I was completely overwhelmed by the sweetness, the humor, and the absolute hopefulness of Red, White, and Royal Blue. I’m still piecing my heart back together.

Kathleen Collins's posthumous 2016 short story collection, Whatever Happened to Interracial Love?, was one of the best books I read that year, if not this decade... or this century. And I thought that would be all we'd ever get of her absolutely unique voice. Needless to say, I was elated to learn that Collins's daughter had compiled this new collection of letters, diary entries, short stories, a novel excerpt, plays and film scripts, including the screenplay for Collins's excellent film Losing Ground. It's another wonderful, one-of-a-kind collection from a little-known, wonderful, one-of-a-kind author. Do yourself a favor and get into Kathleen Collins — there may not be much out there, but what is out there is worth your time.

In an underground labyrinth of books reminiscent of the Neitherlands library in Lev Grossman's The Magicians trilogy, Zachary Ezra Rawlins sifts through story after story, searching for his own. After stumbling across an odd anecdote from his childhood in an authorless book, Zachary seeks answers in the subterranean library, through painted doors and overlapping realities. There, he finds stories barely contained by their pages, riddles of Fate and Time, tales of weary travelers and all-seeing owls, and perhaps even love. Morgenstern's highly anticipated second novel is gorgeously written and highly imaginative.

One of Alexievich’s great talents as an interviewer is the ability to let her subjects speak for themselves without editorializing their stories. In Last Witnesses, she collects the memories of people who were children during the German invasion and occupation of the USSR. The remembrances of horror and devastation, suffering and atrocity, loss of innocence and trauma she collected in the ’70s are still raw years after the end of the war. Published in English for the first time this year, Last Witnesses’ power to humanize the suffering of a generation is more proof that Alexievich’s Nobel Prize in Literature for her polyphonic writings was deeply deserved.

An exhaustive repudiation, EEG piles high the remembrances and ramifications of a century marred by fascism's violent toll. Drndić again dons the guise of Andreas Ban, a dwindling and dyspeptic intellectual, as he trains his gaze on misdeeds large and small, from the systemic eradication of dissent to the scourge of cellular telephones, while remaining ever vigilant to the task at hand — naming the dead. Unparalleled, uncompromising, and righteously incensed, EEG is an apt monument to the enveloping fog of time.

I love everything about this book, from the meticulous research, to the beautiful cover, to the stunning revelations it holds. Martin and Ozma have compiled a thoughtful, hilarious, sexy collection of Lou Sullivan’s personal diaries. Do you not know about Lou Sullivan yet? A trans icon if there ever was one, he paved the way for gay trans men, who had previously been barred from medical transition. This collection covers myriad topics: Sullivan’s Midwestern childhood, his lifelong activism, his penchant for men wearing jewelry. I went to town underlining this book. Every few pages, I would put it down so I could look out the nearest window and sigh wistfully. It’s a beautiful thing, being seen. Thank you, Martin and Ozma, for the gift of this book.

Michelle McNamara's devastating passing in 2016 was the first time I'd heard of her investigation into the criminal who would come to be known as the Golden State Killer. My curiosity was piqued when I learned that her manuscript would be published posthumously. McNamara's narrative deeply conveyed the palpable fear faced by the communities in which the GSK hunted. Paired with Chase Darkness With Me by Billy Jensen, I had an exciting and eye-opening introduction to the genre of true crime.

This book went on my list of top favorites upon finishing it. With this story, Tamsyn Muir managed to creep me out, make me laugh really hard, and definitely cry at one point. The characters are endearing while they harbor secrets and face shambling horrors; our protagonist Gideon just wants her longsword and her freedom. The story is set in a fascinating society where necromancy is the main focus of religious worship, and you cannot help but be drawn into the intrigue right along with Gideon and Harrowhark as the danger mounts and time runs out.

Keiko just wants to fit in. Willing to do, literally, anything to please the people around her, Keiko stops two boys from fighting by hitting one over the head with a spade. She soon finds herself a childhood pariah among her peers and elders alike. To redeem herself, as an adult, Keiko gets a job at Smile Mart — and quickly assimilates all of the rules, embraces the expectations, and finds her place in society. Convenience Store Woman is a finely woven tale of literal and circumstantial expectations placed upon a person. Keiko has no aspirations but to please others, so when that fails, she sees no choice but to try harder. The honesty inherent in Keiko’s struggle is all-too-familiar to many people. Truth is equally scary and liberating. Seen through her eyes, it is also quite confusing. This novel is a masterpiece of modern Japanese literature that resonates across cultures, cuts through the heart of cultural norms, and strips away the notion that we can please others without indicting ourselves.

Rene Denfeld, once again, gives us a terrifying, yet gorgeous, story about hope. Naomi, from The Child Finder, is still in search of answers to her childhood, and is drawn to the street kids who feel more like kin to her than anyone else. The wretched homeless explosion in Portland is the setting for a serial killer who feeds dead young girls into the river. Naomi becomes attached to Celia, a 12-year-old girl forced to flee; the threat of danger on the street is preferable to the certainty of it at home. Celia keeps her barely contained fear at bay by calling on her beloved butterflies; they shield her and cover her until she's invisible. Denfeld has the rare ability to bring horror and beauty seamlessly together in her stories. The terror of predators and the raw hopelessness of street life are abundant; yet there is magic here, there is hope, there is redemption in the most devastating places. Denfeld tells us that stories can save us, and through that lens, the emotional truth of this glorious book is a road map to survival. Addressing themes of home, family, and love, The Butterfly Girl aches with brilliance. In Denfeld's competent hands, you'll be utterly grateful for this journey into darkness and light.

This revelatory debut novel from poet Ocean Vuong gives lyrical voice to a queer, immigrant experience as it has never before been published. Little Dog is writing a letter to his single mother in a language she cannot read, reflecting on their shared becoming upon moving from Vietnam to Connecticut. Vuong's scope spans the Vietnam War, the significance of Tiger Woods, American poverty, queer sexual awakening, the very nature of language. Deeply intersectional and emotionally raw. You're left aglow in the potential of what can be articulated — and the heartbreak of what cannot. What parts of us are shared, what parts are seen, or what gets swept away.

Casey Cep does an incredible job weaving the stranger-than-fiction series of events between the murderous Reverend Maxwell, the reclusive Harper Lee and her lively counterpart Truman Capote, and a Southern lawyer ahead of his time to tell the three-part story of Furious Hours. Cep finally reveals the story Harper Lee wished to tell years ago through a thoughtfully researched and carefully crafted narrative. If you like courtroom drama, literary history, and murders most foul, then Furious Hours is the right book for you.