A Sleeping Beauty murder, a fox spirit seeks revenge, and Sloane Crosley on grief

Hello friends,

Happy [“happy”] 2024! ICYMI I have a newish monthly book column at Bustle, Stacked Up, which has been a true joy but has also made my beloved (by me) newsletter a bit redundant. The books I’d recommend here are now going there, but since I know there is a lot of content on the internet, I thought it would be worthwhile to send some regular recaps to all of you—along with some bonus picks.

I’ll be at AWP (or, the Association of Writers & Writing Programs conference) next week for the first time which makes me nervous, not only because I’ll be speaking on a panel with heavy hitters in the bookfluencer world, but also because I historically feel out of place in the “““““““““literary community””””””””” This is most likely due to a mélange of hangups and insecurities I gathered over the past few decades: When I entered Reed College from the working class & realized an entire subsection of people exist who just like….know about philosophers and “culture;” when I started a job in book media without having worked my way up through publishing internships and didn’t know the protocols; whenever I’ve mingled in cool-kid literary circles without an MFA. It’s jealousy, too, surely, of course. I find it very scary, very dangerous, to take myself and my writing too seriously, and I envy the ability to believe in the value of one’s work. I’ve spent the past decade or so trying to shrug this chip off my shoulder, and I’m getting there. Inevitably I go to the book party, or publishing lunch, or conference, or whatever, and I have a lovely time with lovely people. That said, I’ve found solace in this excerpt from Elizabeth McCracken’s genius auto-novel The Hero of This Book (read it, seriously) during those moments when I feel like an outsider, and when I’m certain this means there’s something wrong with me:

I am only one person, I tell myself when I worry that my work isn’t relevant, doesn’t speak to our moment, isn’t timeless, doesn’t contain the world and all its worries. I am only one person, I tell myself when I disagree with the world, or when I read about the writing community, since I became a writer for the solitary nature of the work: I like writers one at a time well enough and a couple dozen I even love, and one I love particularly, but when they gather, I cannot bear their company. I wish them all well. They are not my community. I am only one person. […] Boldly, wearily, cheerfully: I insist on my singularity. Every one person is allowed their own story.

Was that a downer?? If you are one of the writers following me, trust that you are part of the couple dozen I love.

Okay! Let’s get to the books! Most of the following are select faves from Stacked Up with shortened blurbs and links to direct you to each column for more. You can also find all the books I’ve recommended here and on Stacked Up at my Bookshop storefront.

The Sea, The Sea by Iris Murdoch

The 1978 Booker Prize–winning novel is written from the point of view of retired “demigod of the theater” Charles Arrowby, who has left London for an old, secluded, possibly haunted, house on the North Sea coast where he plans to write his memoirs. The task is hindered by distractions both real and absurd. It’s a brilliant, hilarious examination of relationships, morality, and art. (February)

Neighbors and Other Stories by Diane Oliver

Despite having died at just 22 years old in 1966, Diane Oliver created remarkable, prescient work. Collected here for the first time, Oliver’s stories are intimate snapshots of African Americans navigating the tensions and dangers of a rapidly changing world — you ache for these families like they’re your own. (February)

The Fox Wife by Yangsze Choo

Set in early 1900s Manchuria and Japan, The Fox Wife follows Snow, a grieving fox on a mission, in human form, to avenge the murder of her daughter. At the same time, Bao, a private investigator especially interested in fox spirits (and who happens to have the supernatural ability to detect lies) is hired to identify a young woman found dead behind a restaurant. It’s a darkly magical, stirring look at humanity through the eyes of two outsiders. (February)

Slow Horses by Mick Herron

Slow Horses introduces a ragtag group of MI5 agents who’ve made mistakes bad enough to be exiled to the “Slough House.” These disgraced agents are mostly tasked with grunt work, but when River Cartwright—an ambitious nepo baby who bungled a training exercise—starts to suspect a connection between the kidnapping of a young Pakistani man and a journalist who’s been under MI5 surveillance, he and his cohort get in over their heads. (January)

Movements and Moments, edited by Sonia Eismann, Maya, and Ingo Schöningh

Artists from the Philippines, Ecuador, Nepal, Bolivia, Vietnam, Chile, Peru, and India illustrate stories about Indigenous, women-led activism in the Global South, including protests against colonialism and movements to protect the land across centuries. (December)

Zero at the Bone: 50 Entries Against Despair by Christian Wiman

In 50 mini-essays exploring and challenging existential despair, poet and essayist Wiman offers heady analyses of poetry and scripture, balanced with intimate reconciliations of his own pain, beauty, faith, and doubt. It’s brilliant, affecting, and perfect for short visits driven by mood — whether you want to find clarity and comfort in the insights that land, or contemplate those that aren’t as immediately accessible. (December)

Pedro and Marques Take Stock by José Falero, translated by Julia Sanches

In Brazilian author José Falero’s first book to receive an English translation, the titular duo — supermarket clerks at the bottom of the employment ladder — decide dealing weed is their ticket out of poverty only to have their endeavor grow into something unmanageable. Their often-larger-than-life adventures offer a wry, razor-sharp commentary on violence, poverty, and corruption under capitalism. (November)

Death Comes for the Archbishop by Willa Cather

In sumptuously described, nonlinear vignettes, the 1927 novel — based on the lives of two 19th century Roman Catholic clergymen who help found a new diocese within the recently claimed U.S. territory of New Mexico — explores the influence of religion on politics and vice versa, the effects of the church’s arrival on Indigenous populations, and the reality that attempts at conversion aren’t necessarily benevolent acts. (November)

Bonus:

Anna O by Matthew Blake

Despite the just… awful cover, this one is worth reading imho. It’s one of those publishing mysteries where the book seems to have been preselected to be huge—it’s a debut but the audiobook is read by Dan Stevens of Downton Abbey fame??—and though it isn’t anything groundbreaking, it is a very twisty, eerie, fun psychological thriller built on a premise that feels genuinely new: after murdering two of her best friends and business partners, a wealthy millennial influencer falls asleep for four years. I was shocked by the reveal!

Grief Is For People by Sloane Crosley

Man, I worshipped Sloane Crosley when she arrived on the scene in 2008, and the truth is she’s only gotten better. Very what can’t she do?? vibes. Her memoir, out later this month, is a stunner: One month after a burglar breaks into her apartment and steals, among other items, jewelry she inherited from her grandmother, Crosley’s dear friend and former boss kills himself. One month after that, she starts writing this book. Though these are obviously losses of vastly different magnitudes, Crosley is able to weave them together in a way that just makes sense. It’s a grounded, poignant, and at times surprisingly joyful exploration of friendship and grief.

Etc.

• Subscribe: On Words and Up Words, Jack Shepherd’s brilliant and very fun newsletter about “words, wordplay, the history of words, language, grammar, and word puzzles.” I’m excited every time it hits my inbox.

• Play: Dave the Diver. I exclusively play games I find in the “cozy gamers” subreddit, and this one was recommended literally dozens of times. You dive to catch fish for a new sushi spot (you also get to manage the restaurant) and explore a magical underwater world. The pixel art and interstitial animations are 👌👌👌👌

• Watch: Grey’s Anatomy. It’s so dumb and so good, and I never realized how much of my music taste/personality came from that first season. Iconic. I am sadly not watching at this very moment, because, not to be dramatic, I’d gotten to a point where I was staying up for like 20 hours at a time to watch it while scrapbooking (lol) and my psych was like “hmm, smells like…mania.” I watched ten seasons in three weeks. So, no more Grey’s. For now!!!!!!! But you should watch it if you live for drama.