The novel’s protagonist is named Sergio (a moniker given to him by his Mexican American father); he’s known as Serge. When still a child in 1968 he and his older sister Angela are brought by their mother to Central California in search of “the Big Sur experience” (Big Sur being a place where supposedly “people can be anything they want to be”). Young Serge’s imagination is filled with the possibilities of the rivers canyons beaches redwoods and mountains: “I could run wild wherever I pleased” he thinks. But eight years later in 1976 these fantasies have soured dashed by his seemingly inescapable daily reality of poverty and abandonment. His mother has given herself over to an Indian religious cult called Elemental Consciousness “one of the many Asian cults that had come to America to cash in on the counterculture’s infatuation with exotic alternatives to western-style religion” leaving Serge unsupervised and unmoored working low-paying jobs and feeling trapped. He takes solace not in the drugs that so many of his peers are using but rather in his prized possession: an electric guitar which he loves playing in unconventional ways “hitting a big distorted chord and letting it wash over me like rain from heaven.” He has sex joins and leaves bands and falls headlong in love (with Melinda a ticket counter worker at a theater in Cannery Row) but as he faces the prospect of friends leaving town for colleges and careers he can’t afford to pursue he decides that “if I didn’t start living dangerously I’d never get anywhere.” His dream is to go to New York City and break into its music scene.

The fact that the dawning of this dream is deferred for over two-thirds of the novel might have been a severe detriment in the hands of a less talented writer but Fairbank depicts all of Serge’s teenage misadventures with such immense readability that the narrative flows effortlessly along. The mood changes from dangerous (on his first hitchhiking venture Serge is picked up by “a flat-out psycho” and only barely escapes) to melancholy (“the wind was howling like an animal in pain” reads one passage; there “was a feeling of the Twentieth Century being stripped away” reads another) with an ease that feels effortless. Serge provides a unique perspective; he doesn’t drink or smoke and so is jokingly viewed as a “narc” by young peers of his who do virtually nothing else and the sadness that has shaped him is never far from his character. At one point his absent mother sends him a note complaining about the cost of forwarding his magazines—“what a pal she was” he thinks bitterly. “Strange to have your absentee mother tell you in writing that you’re not even worth the price of a handful of stamps.” The story can occasionally hit repetitive notes (Fairbank specifies many times that young Serge is always hungry) but readers will harbor such a strong hope that Serge will eventually escape the “lot of trouble” his life sometimes seems to be that they won’t begrudge the multiple reminders of his vulnerable humanity.

Idonea learned illegal blood magic from her mother Nellith who goes missing shortly after completing a tattoo on her daughter’s back. Idonea locates her mother’s ring and a mysterious volume with “obscure ritual references. A sketch of a tree without roots. A map of stars that didn’t belong to their sky.” Accompanied by Nellith’s pet dragon Lance Idonea goes on a quest to find her mother as well as a relic in the book called the Heart of Ffyrnedd. She books a ride on a pirate airship and befriends its captain Safira. Idonea soon arrives in the capital city where she starts her hunt for Nellith. She’s arrested there by Templars for being in the vicinity of a murder and Lysander a young Severant (part of an order of magic users) is assigned to guard her. Idonea is eventually released into the custody of her father Alcaeus who left her with Nellith years before taking her sister Dyota with him. Alcaeus gives her a week to find Nellith and the relic with Lysander’s assistance and while they search an unknown assailant kills three local witches—and Idonea may be in mortal danger as well from a threatening demon. Australian author Rose has created a complex world in this novel including reference tools with a map in the front and a pronunciation guide and other useful materials in the backmatter. In order to fully appreciate the action though readers must either flip back and forth between the narrative and these references or forge ahead uncertainly which may be frustrating for some. Idonea and Lysander are compelling characters who experience growth and inevitably overcome their differences to end up together. It’s enjoyable to watch Idonea learn how to see through the subterfuge that was a key part of her young life and readers will have no doubt by the end of the book that she’s ready to meet more daunting challenges.

Cholera a virulent intestinal disease spread by contaminated water emerged from South Asia in 1830 devastating the cities of Europe as it moved west. By 1832 it appeared in Canada and despite efforts to prevent its arrival the U.S. didn’t have long to wait. Kelton meticulously documents the disease’s spread across the country and the reaction of those whose communities and families were affected. The medical profession hadn’t yet learned the role of microbes in disease—in this case Vibrio cholerae—and doctors “reflexively described patients whom they lost as intemperate filthy or derelict in calling for medical assistance in time.” Temperance advocates joined in: “In almost if not every case Cholera is the result of intemperance imprudence in eating vegetables fruits & neglect of diarrhea” one Baltimore clergyman wrote. Newspapers blamed the Irish African Americans and others stuck in impoverished conditions—never noticing their lack of access to clean water. The medical doctrine of the time based on purging bleeding and opium did little to help the victims. Cholera took an especially high toll among Indigenous people driven west on the Trail of Tears and among enslaved people marched to the Deep South to be sold to cotton planters in conditions that encouraged the free spread of the disease. Meanwhile the wealthy fled the cities at the first sign of the plague mostly to places with good sanitation. While the subject matter is far from cheerful—especially in light of recent experiences with Covid-19—Kelton brings the words and experiences of those who lived through the pandemic to bring the era to life.

This novel its author writes “was born out of the real grief of the West Nickel Mines schoolhouse shooting” when a gunman shot 10 girls at an Amish school in Lancaster Pennsylvania. While this book begins on that terrible morning in October 2006 it doesn’t indulge in any violence quickly switching to the voice of survivor Emma Walsh a dozen years later. She is “on [her] Rumspringa year” along with her fiancé Isaac Ames. (This custom gives the pair a temporary pass to engage in behavior that their community would normally forbid.) Emma works for Sara Caldwell whose husband runs a medical clinic for the Amish and Sara begins to develop parental feelings for Emma. Gilbert presents chapters featuring the points of view of both Sara and Ruth Emma’s mother whose older daughter died in the carnage. Ruth may be the most interesting character and the story at first withholds what has divided Emma and Ruth. Only Emma speaks in the first person which will become more crucial as the story advances. As the novel jumps around in time the shooting haunts each character. Sara remembers its aftermath: “There was confusion in the mortuary because of the sameness of the girls’ dress the sameness of their hair…” Emma drawn to the books in Sara’s library discovers she’s pregnant setting up her conundrum: embrace the community where she came of age or look toward the wider world? The resulting narrative is a quiet chamber drama where internal conflicts abound.

The story begins in the waning days of 1916 with the United States soon to be embroiled in World War I under President Woodrow Wilson. In a crime that presages the violent conflict to come a married wealthy couple the Blandens are brutally slaughtered in their home. The only other person known to be in the house at the time of the murders is the younger of the Blandens’ two daughters Cora. Though a slight and unassuming girl she soon becomes the only real suspect in the murder and is soon arrested. Readers initially follow the story from the perspective of Elizabeth Murphy better known as “Bess” the Blandens’ young maid (she’s the one who finds the slain Blandens’ bodies). Bess meets Ada Reilly another of the novel’s point-of-view characters; she’s an ambitious young woman who’s making her way in the male-dominated field of criminal law. Sensing an opportunity Ada gets herself hired by the older of the two Blanden sisters Lydia to represent Cora. Though Ada remains as impartial as she can she’s struck by the adamancy with which both Bess and Lydia insist that Cora couldn’t possibly have committed such an unspeakable act of violence. DeBruney’s novel is simultaneously a period piece a crime yarn and a feminist parable that manages to still ring true more than 100 years after the events it depicts. Ada’s indefatigability in the face of legal and social obstacles makes her a winning character and deBruney effectively captures the lovestruck innocence of the young Bess which shines through despite the difficulties of her circumstances. Thinking about a boy she has a crush on she reflects “Elias is like the skim of pollen that gathers on windowsills each spring when the oak trees bust out all green and leafy: a golden thing that has seeped in where it doesn’t belong.” Fans of crime stories historical fiction and feminist literature will find much to like here.

The author focuses on a trio of figures he describes as standing at the forefront of “determinist advocacy” who argue that free will is an illusion: Sam Harris who wrote the 2012 book Free Will Robert Sapolsky whose 2023 book was titled Determined and Sabine Hossenfelder who runs a popular podcast that discusses the subject. Rose observes that because everybody goes about their lives making decisions every day “using some combination of instinct reason and desire” the idea that everything we do is predetermined “runs against the grain of ordinary experience.” The authors covered here and other adherents to their perspective describe a universe that’s entirely determined with every nuance of human behavior being the end product of impersonal forces—consciousness in this formulation is the byproduct of neural preconditioning that mandates every thought or action. For decades determinists have asserted that free-will advocates have the burden of proof; they hold that their ideological opponents need to prove that autonomy exists. In his nonfiction debut Rose takes issue with this core contention. He cites many of the studies underlying the debate particularly a 1983 experiment by Benjamin Libet that appeared to show significant neural activity spiking well before a person “decides” to press a button suggesting that such decisions aren’t conscious. Harris Sapolsky Hossenfelder and other determinists have characterized this as indisputable proof that humans have no actual free will; Rose argues that this conclusion is artificial and premature (“Despite such extensive research there is no consensus on the meaning or significance of the findings”).

The case the author lays out in this work pushes back against ideological overreach. He notes that Libet himself added cautionary notes about the implications of his own study and that many determinists simply dismiss this material. “Such treatment” Rose writes “lends an unwarranted level of support to determinist interpretations of the neuroscience findings.” The author also examines concepts such as emergence theory which considers human cognition to be “irreducible to the behavior of the physical neural events which support them” casting free will as “selected for by evolution due to its adaptive advantage.” Rose points out that determinism would make reasoning itself the foundation of science “a byproduct of unthinking causal events” since science presupposes “the existence of knowable conditions capable of objective verification.” The author has a large amount of dense philosophical and neurological material to sort through which he consistently does a cogent job of; neophytes to the free-will debate will feel well grounded. Rose’s decision to let the countervailing arguments speak for themselves (rather than to write a manifesto) is wise. By calmly insisting that determinists actually have the burden to “explain how meaning purpose values and abstract conceptual frameworks could arise from the activity of unthinking insentient physical events” and by highlighting the overconfidence of their approach the author very effectively undercuts their argument. Readers who consider the whole debate absurd on its face will find much factual and ideological support here presented in a way that’s refreshingly free of partisan argument.

In a world filled with people possessing fantastic powers 15-year-old Alé Aragón was once deemed a Deficient lacking an “accelerated ability” that many others have. But he survived a brutal fight marking him as a Feral a designation that means his ability—to come back from the dead—is outside the Common Six (such as the telekinesis practiced by “Mind Movers”). People now treat him almost as poorly as when he was a Deficient. Alé attends an assignation ceremony in which the prefectural governor announces the career paths that academy students like Alé will take. He trains to be part of the classified Blue Stars intelligence unit; because he can’t reveal specifics (“All affairs of the Blue Stars are kept private for security purposes”) he’s effectively isolated from his comrades including his best friend Yalamba (who’s also a Feral; her drawings come to life). Alé excels in his training despite the occasional malfunctioning equipment during simulations. Could this be attempted sabotage? In this tautly written tale Solis tackles themes of bigotry: While Alé who’s queer receives no hate for his sexual orientation others act as if his “passive” ability makes him worthless. The story’s symbolism is sometimes a bit on the surface—Alé had been “misclassified” for years. Still the animosity thrown at him is heartbreakingly realistic as the loathsome attitudes of his father and brothers fracture the family. Alé’s entanglement in something shady deepens as the narrative rolls along with each scene seeming to deliver a new surprise and someone else Alé must keep an eye on for reasons of suspicion or concern. Alé is an easy protagonist to root for—he’s smart and resourceful and he doesn’t let his mistakes completely derail him. His doggedness leads him to some startling revelations a nerve-wracking confrontation and an ending that will surely leave readers eager for the next installment.

In the summer of 2003 the author a NICU nurse traveled to California after leaving an unhealthy relationship. A routine trip to the Santa Monica Farmers Market turned into a life-altering tragedy when 86-year-old Russell Weller’s “pedal error” caused his Buick to speed through the crowd killing 10 and injuring many more. Cronin was hospitalized with scarring memory loss and PTSD forced to relearn basic functions and rebuild her life. This moving account of her recovery explores the many conflicting post-trauma emotions people experience from confusion to anger to survivor’s guilt. The empathy the author extends to both Weller and her fellow victims underscores her attempt to find meaning in the incident: “Was it meant to be that the ones struck were there at the right place and time? Were we all present that day as a result of our own free will? Was it meant to be that Russell Weller be the driver? Russell Weller the cue ball the rest of us solids and stripes.” Cronin excels at folding in elements from her past (like her struggles with anorexia and her history of playing the Irish fiddle) into contemplations of her uncertain future and the story comes most fully alive at the intersection between the two. One of the book’s most moving elements is the author’s relationship with her future husband John whom she met through a friend in the Irish music scene. Their tender romance is presented as a mutually restorative constant throughout the healing process as evidenced by their first kiss: “John’s pupils dilate. I can see through them. I can see myself my focused brown eyes the right one that easily wanders now still and centered.” Cronin’s piercing prose pays tribute to the inherent good in us all.

In this collection Gedaliah confidently conjures the past contemplates the future and connects with the natural world. The first section “Moods and Musings” centers on “the heart of memory” and opens with “I Am Becoming” written from the perspective of a child recently freed from a stroller: “I am locomotion. / I am wind. / I am joy unbounded.” Romantic relationships emerge in multiple poems. “Why Did You Text Me?” describes the digital push-pull of a relationship interspersed with recollections of different love interests. “The Voice” describes the moment someone decides “It’s over” and subsequently feels reborn. “Suppression” explores the delusion that “grief / is simply a one-and-done affair.” The “What the Night Brings” section brings themes of sleep and dreams. In light of that theme “A Song of the Moon” gives voice to the moon who declares “Everything I touch becomes enchanted!” The speaker delights in sleeping and dreaming then drinking coffee and composing poetry in “Kafka Café.” The “With [in] Sanity” section features one poem each dedicated to insanity sanity and the state in between. Nature takes center stage in “The Voices” section where the poet adopts the perspectives of various natural elements including clouds mountains and the sea in their own respective poems. Aging comes to the fore in a later section: “Rigor Mortis” describes physical decline including the evocative “Slowing ambulation with unearned pain.” The speaker grapples with impermanence in “Because My Time Is Limited.” The book concludes with “What Is Life?” a poem that consists of questions on the meaning of life love and the world.

In these deeply contemplative poems Gedaliah both appreciates and grieves memorable moments across a person’s lifespan. The poet vividly sets the naturalistic scene in poems like “Mekong Morning” which captures how the “intense blue sky and water turns / powder blue shades of pink and red rise / behind the mountains.” Evocative imagery is on display in poems like “Sketch of a Troubled Woman” which describes a woman “Steady and methodical as / a funeral march. / The heaviness in her chest / impedes each breath. / Her legs leaden by what / she’s obliged to tow.” Bracingly visceral descriptions help the reader experience the tenderness of a “mother’s fingers drifting / across your brow longing to nestle softly / in her warm lap.” Aging emerges as one of the book’s strongest themes. “Marooned” touchingly captures how its older subject feels unreal without human connection noting that in the digital age “talking with a human is a prize / at the end of an obstacle course.” Poems like “Kempt and Unkempt” poignantly document the mental and physical shifts that occur with aging: “My jumbled life pulls against me. / And my best days are rare.” The book’s themed sections provide structure to what might otherwise seem like disjointed subjects. However free verse dominates the collection; more variety of form could have enhanced the reading experience.

Fares Hashem’s story begins before his birth with his father Mansour whose friendship with the educated Iskandar Haleem introduces him to science geography Western medicine and the possibilities of education. After witnessing the effectiveness of modern medicine firsthand Mansour becomes determined that his son will receive a proper education something Mansour himself never had. Fares eventually studies medicine in Beirut before traveling to Europe and the United States where he encounters both the possibilities of modernity and the prejudice faced by immigrants. He remains committed to returning home and contributing to his country’s renaissance. Fares’ story is written to intentionally parallel that of real historical figure Jurji Zaidan who appears here as Fares’ friend and fictional double—they even share a birthday (“[t]he two boys grew up as close friends”). El-Daif’s novel combines historical fiction biography travel narrative satire and intellectual history moving between Fares’ life and extended digressions about the Arab Nahda (enlightenment) Western missionaries and religion science colonialism and modernization. The novel’s humor is often sharply irreverent particularly when Fares’ faith in reason and progress runs up against superstition bureaucracy discrimination and human folly. The book’s title derives from a Levantine expression for attempting the impossible—the sentiment captures the novel’s larger theme of humanity’s efforts to impose coherence on a complicated and unstable world. The narrative’s ambitious scope is compelling as the author weaves together such disparate elements as religious burial customs Darwinian theory and the complexities of emotions regarding one’s family past and hopes for the future. The novel’s structure can be frustrating—El-Daif frequently abandons Fares’ story for historical anecdotes philosophical observations or episodes involving secondary and historical figures. These digressions illuminate the novel’s ideas and gradually reveal a skepticism about the promises of modernity but they can also obscure the central narrative and make it difficult to maintain a clear sense of chronology or character; readers seeking a conventional historical novel may struggle with the shifting perspectives and episodic construction.

In 1872 Christian Maclagan a “Lady Associate” of the Society of Antiquaries travels to a farm in Scotland to seek out a carved stone ball similar to the Towie ball an ancient relic. A real-life historical figure she has a narrative voice that reflects her outspoken personality: “The underlying fact that women are not taken seriously enough to be considered for full membership cannot be ignored” she fumes over the “Lady Associate” invitation. “I will need to say something.” Anthropologists speculate about the origins and purpose of the Towie ball—was it a weapon or connected to pagan spiritual practice? The author hints at supernatural or metaphysical significance as when Christian writes a cryptic inscription in her book taken from a proverb: “Books lie but the stone is true.” Intrigued by this inscription Ellen Byrne travels to view the Towie ball in a Scottish museum in 2023. Like Christian Ellen’s “premonitions” mark her journey as a fateful one. Both women are powerfully drawn to the mysterious stone. “The weight of the stone in my palm combined with the coolness of its polished black surface against my skin is nothing short of intoxicating” Christian narrates; “Since my trip last July to Edinburgh I have become rather obsessed with the magnificent stone dug up outside the hamlet of Towie.” Both women wish to evade long-buried personal secrets but escaping their personal histories proves more difficult than anticipated. Christian and Ellen also parallel one another in their truth-seeking—not only into the origins and purpose of the Towie ball but also regarding themselves. In this way the narrative is more a quest for self-knowledge than it is a supernatural mystery or SF yarn which may disappoint those who are anticipating an otherworldly revelation. That said the historical details fascinate—curiosity about the Towie ball and evocations of Scotland’s rich cultural heritage may invite further speculation and research on the part of readers. Some biographical details of Christian Maclagan are fictionalized for storytelling purposes.

Throughout its recorded history “the Rock” has dwelled in the Atlantic world as much as the Mediterranean a pillar of Hercules closely tied to Spain and Morocco but distinct from both. Since the Anglo-Dutch appropriation of Gibraltar in 1704 which separated the peninsular colony from Spain there have been many accommodations between London and Madrid but no resolution of dominion. Gibraltarians while prizing their British citizenship nonetheless regard their land as sovereign neither to be given away or taken. “Most of the scholarship on Gibraltarian communal identity has concentrated on the ways the people of Gibraltar have distinguished themselves from the Spanish” writes historian Plank. “[But] equally important distinctions…continue to be drawn between Gibraltarians as Europeans and the inhabitants of the non-European world.” He relates how Gibraltar became an imagined bulwark of European Christendom following Spain's 1492-1614 expulsions of Muslims and Jews then how the gradual reintegration of those peoples was accomplished despite persistent social cultural and religious divisions. He also charts how the fortress its town and immediate region have experienced volatile military economic and social fortunes through the centuries. Plank weaves first-hand accounts archaeological findings and recently augmented primary sources into a panoramic tapestry moving from Neanderthal times through various incursions two world wars the fall of the British Empire the 1969-1982 Spanish blockade formation of the European Union and Gibraltar’s ascent as a locus of offshore international finance. But it’s also a maritime history of the Strait of Gibraltar and a chronicle of the shifting political sands of North Africa and Gibraltar’s role in them. It’s a top-drawer narrative rich with detail and pivotal personalities.

Two seemingly unconnected narratives intersect in this blood-soaked novel. One revolves around Joseph a writer from Richmond Virginia who arrives in Bogotá Colombia on an assignment in 1991. He seeks a sense of purpose after his wife’s sexual betrayal and is hoping to write a book on the violent chaos roiling the country. There is no dearth of material: “The narcos and the government were all fighting each other in one big orgy of explosions mutilated bodies and spectacular assassinations.” Joseph witnesses an attempted murder at close range and is pulled into a dangerous and thrilling world. His guide through the madness is a local journalist named Paula; soon their professional relationship blossoms into a romance. The second narrative follows Aurelio a former Romani knife-thrower in a traveling carnival freed from servitude by a landowner named Senor Arcila in Antioquia back in 1948. Arcila hires Aurelio to “break up drunken fights during festivals” and “to guard mule trains of coffee beans” in a town where justice is secured by killing men and setting houses on fire. Aurelio is attracted to a woman named Violeta at first sight but she happens to be another man’s wife. When she becomes a widow she needs Aurelio to protect her and her daughter but she evinces no love or respect for him. The narrative keeps readers hooked with frequent flashbacks and the slow unveiling of secrets (including the story of the suicide mentioned in the title). Casting both Joseph and Aurelio as outsiders the author craftily uses their naïveté as a plot device; both are too trusting and this allows people to exploit them. The violent material is heavy provoking the reader to reflect on how the breakdown of law and order can lead people to live in perpetual fear and conflict. The story also offers a bracing commentary on the ways in which religion ceases to be a moral force when the people at the helm are corrupt.

The New Year—not Jan. 1 but the Lunar New Year that’s celebrated in many Asian countries—“is not just a number… it’s also an animal. Each year is paired with one of twelve incredible animals.” The animal associated with a person’s birth year provides hints about personality and talents relationships and preferences lucky numbers and favorite flowers. Robeson a Canadian American author of Chinese descent shares in her author’s note how she and her sister “had a blast” learning about the zodiac as children in Hong Kong. She enables young audiences to enjoy similar discoveries of mixing and matching animals and elements. Just in case a match doesn’t feel quite right she offers a question-tree “game” for alternative options. The bulk of the book highlights the animals—rat ox tiger rabbit dragon snake horse goat monkey rooster dog pig—and the characteristics that each one is considered to share with their yearly cohort including potential BFFs possible careers and even likely favorite snacks. Chinese American artist Zhu brings colorful fun to every spread imbuing the animals with energy attitude and individuality. Since the dozen aren’t the same across Asia Robeson adds the “cool substitutes” of Vietnam (cats) Thailand (Nagas) and Japan (boars). In a rare publication decision Zilja Zhuang is credited as authenticity reader.

One two three black dots against a bright yellow background quickly grow into lots of dots before progressing into dots of different sizes. And then one of the black dots changes color to red. Turning the page reveals that a red backdrop has replaced the yellow background; a yellow dot appears courtesy of a small circular die-cut hole through to the previous page. The red background next turns white to showcase dots of assorted colors. The spots turn shiny then “fabulous!” as all the diverse dots gather on the penultimate spread to mingle and delight. The final spread invites audience interaction which so often is encouraged throughout Kusama’s art. The last dot is reflective like a mirror beckoning readers in: “I am just another dot in the world”—but caught in the largest most prominent dot of all. The “About the artist” spread includes another huge dot but this one is filled with a black-and-white c. 1939 photograph of a 10-year-old Kusama the age she began drawing and painting. The board book’s pumpkin shape and its enchanting cover are an obvious homage to Kusama’s internationally recognizable penchant for polka-dotted gourds.

Twelve-year-old Rowdy Buckner who has dark eyes and hair and “the same brown skin passed down from ancestors who called this kingdom home long before it was a kingdom at all” is sick of his pampered lifestyle as the future monarch of the Kingdom of Texas in the Allied Lands a magical version of the U.S. He dreams of someday being an adventurer and gaining access to the alchemic tonics that provide gender-affirming and other physical changes so he can live as the man he’s long known himself to be. Rowdy’s parents unconditionally support his identity but say his behavior is too irresponsible and impulsive—he whines screams at a housekeeper for smiling and abandons friends who are in danger—to access the “powerful magick” of the tonics just yet. Rowdy decides to prove them wrong by competing in Realmsweep a high-stakes team scavenger hunt. The hunt which culminates in an anti-monarchy protest after the murder of a dark-skinned boy named d’Artagnan by city guards offers big-hearted if unsubtle moral lessons that are somewhat undermined by Rowdy’s own incipient “earned” kingship at the denouement. The writing is often repetitive and expository; the magic and worldbuilding like the moralizing feel overstuffed but ultimately work in service of the worthy message that kids needn’t be likeable to deserve love community and gender-affirming care.

This collective biography/alphabet book defines a hero as “someone who tries to be their best self who helps others who makes the world a better place.” One Jewish hero is included for each letter of the alphabet. The 14 women and 12 men featured vary in terms of race and ability as well as occupation. Notably fully half are living.   “A B C—what type of hero will you be?” ask Cohen and Olitzky encouraging readers to see themselves in the individuals profiled. Each entry includes a well-designed stylized portrait in bright balanced colors showing the subject in action. The information provided is necessarily basic. The entry for J (“Jonas Jiggles a test tube”) includes an illustration of Jonas Salk standing before a set of beakers. The letter J is highlighted and a caption in small print identifies him as the scientist responsible for the polio vaccine. Half the entries include an inspirational quote that doesn’t add much (for Olympic gold medal gymnast Kerri Strug “Have a passion”; for Marvel publisher Stan Lee “One person can make a difference”); backmatter with brief bios would have been more useful given that not all the subjects are household names. The work concludes with the words “I will make a difference by…”—an opportunity for age-appropriate reflection.

Hannah Kabbah loves working in child care but due to that time she destroyed a man’s car with a cricket bat after he hurt her sister she has a criminal record making it hard to find a desirable job in the small English town of Ravenswood. When her teenage crush Nathaniel Davis now a tattooed photographer and widower moves back to town to care for his ailing mother Hannah accepts a position as a live-in nanny for his two spirited young children. She immediately loves the kids and the job but her romantic feelings for Nate refuse to stay in the past. Nate is captivated by Hannah who’s blunt and bossy with him but has endless patience and adoration for his children. As her employer he’s very much aware of the power imbalance between them and doesn’t want to be the kind of man who crosses that line but when he senses his affection is reciprocated he’ll stop at nothing to be with her. Originally self-published in 2018 this book will please fans of the first Ravenswood book A Girl Like Her or any other Hibbert title as it’s a strong example of the author’s adept character building and sexy storytelling. The professional tie between Hannah and Nate is a barrier in their relationship but the larger obstacles in their way are more internal—various thoughts and emotions that prevent them from opening up or accepting love including Hannah’s anxiety and depression and Nate’s self-doubt and shame. These serious topics are sensitively handled while the story as a whole feels joyful and fun due to Hibbert’s witty and approachable writing.

When the muckraking journalist Barbara Ehrenreich died in 2022 her author son Ben decided to write a story every day to work through his emotions. The 85 pieces collected here all roughly qualify as flash fiction though a few are ultrabrief wisps of ideas. (Complete text of one piece: “Again it was supposed to rain but it did not rain again.”) Some pieces are intimately engaged with moments from Ehrenreich’s life with his wife and young daughter; others endeavor to evoke the language of myth and fable in narratives populated by magpies crows tigers and wolves. But regardless of the register he writes in or the length of the piece Ehrenreich is wrestling with the idea of story itself—what it takes to put a life in order what’s sacrificed when you do so and whether it’s possible or fair to try. (“I am tired. Is that a story?” he asks.) The brevity and fluidity of themes in these pieces recall Lydia Davis’ spiky short fiction though Ehrenreich keeps the mood somber and questioning. Three of the pieces were inspired by the deaths of others besides his mother and his prevailing response is one of mournful uncertainty. “It is through stories that I know how to connect to the world so I wrote stories” he writes in the introduction and he seems skeptical about how much stories can help. But the effort itself and his refusal to seek pat tidy resolutions are what make the book poignant and satisfying; he’s deliberately evoking the anguish and frustration of anyone who’s struggled to articulate the loss of a loved one. It’s a curious kind of balm but a balm nonetheless.

Bored with life in Toronto attractive young Priscilla Tempest left Canada for London where she’s serving as press officer at the famed Savoy Hotel. Her title might as well be Miss Fix-it since she’s the one who’s called to deal with all sorts of problems from hungover guests to temperamental actors who refuse to rehearse. Her current emergency however literally has her name on it since a dead man has been found in a car in front of the hotel clutching a note to “my darling Priscilla.” Author Base treats Priscilla like Agatha Christie’s indispensable Lucy Eyelesbarrow in 4:50 From Paddington a comparison encouraged by the key supporting role Dame Agatha plays in the press officer’s adventure. Priscilla deals competently with random inquiries from members of the public and props up the fragile egos of stars like Rex Harrison and Marlene Dietrich who are currently squabbling their way through the Savoy Theatre’s production of Witness for the Prosecution. But despite Base’s frequent reminders of Priscilla’s comeliness his protagonist is not especially appealing. Her attitude toward the wives of the many men she beds is dismissive. She’s contemptuous of Phoebe her plain-Jane sister whose sole sexual conquest is a lowly car salesman and Priscilla’s ex-fiancé to boot. She isn’t particularly effective as a press officer since she’s ignorant of basic journalistic customs like the need to fact-check information before publishing it. And as a sleuth she’s extremely gullible accepting suspects’ stories at face value. She does manage to solve the case although most readers won’t be able to since the solution to the mystery is in The Red Umbrella a book that doesn’t exist.