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I'm back with another Substack style post. While my last 'thoughts on the state of the book world' post felt like the ideas were ones many people have mulled over, for this one, I'm getting a bit more niche. I have a lot of thoughts about everything all the time (for better or for worse), and I often come across fascinating ideas via Substack and YouTube, especially when it comes to reading. My favorite writer on Substack has been Derek Thompson, and I've reference his articles on my blog before. I've also mentioned Man Carrying Thing, and he often responds to popular posts floating around on Twitter and Reddit (which is nice because I don't use those platforms), and provides a comedic yet thoughtful take on them. I've linked several articles, podcasts and videos throughout this post that have made me think differently or more in-depth, and I hope you find them as fascinating or thought-provoking as I have. So, here are just a few of the topics that I have ruminated over in the last few months. BookTok and the importance of nuance I was inspired by this video titled 'BookTok, brainrot, and why it's okay to be a hater.' I highly recommend watching if this topic interests you at all. I've been struggling with the rise of BookTok and how it's changed so much in publishing and the book space. On one hand, I love that more people are discovering the joy of reading --- that was the whole point to this book blog when I first started over six years ago. BookTok has also poured more money into the publishing industry, which helps smaller authors get traditionally published. However, there are consequences of BookTok that have left me conflicted, especially because I never want to discourage anyone from reading, no matter the genre. I am a big fan of long form content because I feel that most ideas need more time and space to be fleshed out, and long form platforms give room to consider many sides of an issue aka nuance. I've been grilled for using that word lately, which is funny to me considering how much of the internet lacks nuance. I believe having an opinion is wonderful and important (I have an opinion about almost everything), but over the years, I've learned the value of listening and taking in feedback in order to understand not only my own opinions better, but the world. Don't get me wrong, long form creators can absolutely lack nuance, but on TikTok, it's notorious. It is difficult to have nuance on a platform that has a time limit, and where its users want to be engaged within seconds. Hence, many hot takes, recommendations with no explanation, and little time for consideration on why someone liked or disliked a book. I've found that many recommendations I get (via secondhand Instagram posting because I don't have TikTok), have let me down immensely. There just isn't enough room for in-depth critiques, which ultimately are more helpful in me deciding what it is about a book that might engage me. It can be easy to get caught up in the online hype, but over the last few years, I've recognized that I would rather spend my time reading long reviews and exploring more in-depth content in order to find better quality recommendations. On being a hater Although using the word hater is hyperbolic in this discussion, it feels cheeky and comes from the aforementioned YouTube video. I'm also piggy-backing on a video by another creator I love called 'Book reviews are gaslighting us.' Blake examines how book reviews, even ones published by prestigious outlets, have become more about cheerleading instead of commentary. The worst part is, I have fallen victim to this in the last few years. When I first started this blog at the beginning of 2020, I was posting a lot, including monthly roundups of all the books I had read. I gave ratings out of 10, and would critique popular books and admit I didn't enjoy them. At one point, I stopped doing that. Monthly roundups felt like a lot of work for books I didn't like, and I felt it would be more helpful to just highlight books I loved instead of ones I didn't. But I have realized that negative reviews are helpful, and they balance the book content pipeline. We should be calling out bad writing, shallow views, overused tropes and especially harmful takes. There should be thorough explanation as to why someone disliked a book, but avoiding those critiques doesn't help anyone, especially the actual author. We all need constructive criticism to grow and develop, especially in writing. And one bad review won't tank an author's career, contrary to how it may feel in the moment. This also applies to the strange phenomenon that happens when someone criticizes content that someone else loves. People are allowed to not like something, and they're certainly allowed to critique it negatively if they are engaging with legitimate qualms. Shutting someone down and saying 'let me love my thing' has made these kind of nuanced critiques even more difficult to discuss, when this is exactly the kind of discourse we all should be having. I don't want to blindly love something or support someone because doing so erodes the ability to discern, comprehend, challenge, and hold people accountable. And in today's world, those skills are more important than ever. Although it feels like there's a lot of negativity online, there are effective ways at critiquing work that isn't just 'being a hater,' and it's something I want to start practicing again on this blog. Performative reading I want to examine performative reading with grace because again, I never want to discourage people from picking up a book, no matter the motivation behind it. Let's be real, so much of reading can stem from the desire to be perceived in a certain way. Whether that's intelligent, productive, hip, mysterious, deep, romantic, worldly. I remember reading Anna Karenina my junior year of high school for fun because I was desperate for people to take me seriously. I, like everyone else, am not immune to performative reading. I don't think there's something inherently wrong with it if it gets someone to read a book, but I do feel it cannot be the only reason someone continues. This term has often been used with online discourse around men in particular --- of men reading for how it looks specifically to women. There's a popular Instagram page called hot men reading, and women are drooling over these strangers. Reading has typically signified certain characteristics --- maybe intelligence, empathy, worldliness, depth --- but that performance is now being discussed as a way for men to get women to date them. What's funny is that a man who loves books used to be something I would've required in a partner, but I've learned that just because a man reads, does not mean he inherently has those qualities. However, the quiet optimist in me hopes that even if someone begins reading with the goal to be perceived in a certain way, the journey through challenging books will ultimately transform that motivation into the magic of curiosity. Even more ironic, that change in motivation will often usher in some of the traits that people wanted to have in the first place --- empathy being one that I always point to when talking about men reading more fiction. Intent matters, and it's the hunger to want to know more, to understand, to feel uncomfortable, to go deep, that often changes a person. AI in art and the purpose of reading I see a lot of discussion, both online and in my everyday life, about AI taking jobs, fueling the creation of data centers, changing technology, and its effects on the economy. All of which are important but I want to take some time to look at AI in art and the creation of books, perhaps a less pressing and dire consequence of AI. Although I am not a big fan of AI, I can concede that it has potential to positively impact certain industries. One way in particular is in science and medicine --- my favorite podcast, Radiolab, did a story on a company using AI to match and treat diseases with possible medications that no one has thought to use before. Great use for AI, in my opinion. Artificial intelligence has been bleeding into the creation of art since it began. Some people are more comfortable with it than others. I struggle to accept any use for AI in art because if we must lean into AI, shouldn't it be to tackle problems and leave humans more time to do and create things we love? And to those who say it's inevitable or there is nothing wrong with consuming art books, movies, and music created by AI, I want to push back. There seems to be a big wave of content consumption based around distraction and escapism recently. If that's the case, then I can see why someone wouldn't care if AI created the art they are consuming. But I don't think we should accept this. We should not shrug our shoulders at either the passive creation or absorption of art. Art has always been the opposite of passive, of nonchalant. It's about having such an intense emotion or idea or feeling that it must be expressed and shared. It's about witnessing and empathizing with others’ art and experiences so much that it evokes a sense of wonder and magic that transcend space and time. Art, and specifically for me reading, is about feeling a kinship with another human no matter the century, gender, or nationality. It's about connection with ourselves and others, and human-created art is always unique because it utilizes individual experiences and interpretations. I want to feel understood, to understand others, to feel less alone. That has always been the purpose of art and reading for me. AI is not human, it does not experience emotion or life. It cannot feel or share in grief, pain, desire, joy, wonder. It will never make someone feel less alone. AI may be inevitable but the way we use it does not have to be. We can be critical of it, apply it to areas where it can do more good than harm, and also work to protect the environment and human expression and dignity. We owe it to ourselves and future generations to move forward with AI in a responsible, discerning way. If you have any thoughts or critiques, I would love to hear them. Feel free to shoot me an email at brianasbookshelf@gmail.com. And make sure to subscribe to get notified every time I publish a new blog post. Happy reading, y'all.

This post was spurred by a recent favorite read that I almost chose not to pick up. I was browsing my favorite DC bookstore a few months ago, Lost City Books, and I came across a used copy of How to be Alone by Jonathan Franzen for $8. Like most times when I find a book I'm interested in, I opened up Goodreads and searched the title to see the average rating and some top reviews. I was floored at the low score, a 3.58 average rating based on over 12,000 reviews. I was still intrigued by the synopsis so I found it at my library and put the book on hold (a great hack, no matter if the book has positive reviews or not, is to get it from your local library, no buyer's remorse ever needed). After reading and loving that book, I started to think about the amount of times I chose not to buy a book or check it out from the library because of the relatively low Goodreads score, and I felt a wave of disappointment. How many amazing stories, how many favorite reads have I missed just because the general readership of one singular review site didn't enjoy it? Then I began going back through books over the last few years looking to see which ones I loved but was rated poorly. There is merit in picking up a book that seems to be loved by many, but that rating may not reflect what the book could mean to an individual reader (or if it's actually a terrible book everyone seems to love, looking at you, A Little Life). It's a funny feeling disliking a book that has such rave reviews, and maybe that's a post for a later day. But here, I wanted to explore the books that I went into expecting little because of the reviews, only to come out surprised at how much I loved it. This exercise has been a great way for me to examine my habits and taste, and be more open to trying books even if the internet didn't like it, and I encourage you to pick up a book despite trash reviews if the blurb still entices you (preferably from the library so you don't get mad at me if you spend money on a book you hated). How to be Alone by Jonathan Franzen There is no doubt that some people think Franzen is an arrogant asshole, and I don’t disagree. This sentiment seems to be where most of the negative reviews of this book stems from. But opposing things can be true at once, and I was shocked at how moved I was by many of his essays. His writing, to me, is the perfect blend of descriptive and sarcastic, with a touch of poignancy. My favorite essays were definitely the ones where he spoke about grief and loss (the first story of his dying dad had me sobbing), but the others were engaging and fascinating. It felt surreal to be reading essays from the late 90s and early 2000s and seeing similar feelings of anxiety and dread about politics, culture, and the dying novel. I feel weirdly comforted that the things that keep me up at night are still the same for those who have come before me. And I have no doubt that I’ll read my own writing decades in the future and shake my head at the irony of my present worries. But isn’t that what makes books so incredible? An understanding, a shared kinship with humans no matter the decade or even century. I’ve had Franzen’s novels on my shelf for years but it’s time to pull them off and see if his fiction writing is just as good as his nonfiction. Beautiful World, Where Are You by Sally Rooney One of my favorite books of 2024 was Normal People, and I have since read almost every book in Rooney's repertoire. I adore her writing, but it's definitely a point of contention for many readers. She doesn't use quotation marks, and her writing feels almost stream of consciousness. However, I'm strangely captivated by her style. It feels more grounded in reality for me, like I'm actually in the characters' heads. Beautiful World, Where Are You is about Alice and Eileen, best friends who are living fairly separate lives, writing to one another about dating, grief, the state of the world and their fears. In a similar vein of her writing style, Rooney also makes her characters incredibly flawed and sometimes unlikable. Alice and Eileen, along with their prospective romantic partners, make decisions that are frustrating and would often act impulsively. But isn't that what being in your early 20s is about? The uncertainty, the anxiety, the self-consciousness? It's all laid out bare in this book, and I can see why some people would find it annoying or pointless to showcase these kinds of characters. But I loved their flaws, I loved hearing my own anxieties mirrored back at me. This book isn't about plot, it's more about character development and exploration, which I surprisingly enjoyed. Despite the 3.52 Goodreads rating, this book helped cement Rooney as one of my favorite authors. Cleopatra and Frankenstein by Coco Mellors I can see why this book may not be for everyone (which is certainly a theme for this post). The story follows a 20 something year old British painter who has a whirlwind romance with a 40 something year old successful New York City man. I cannot overstate how much I despise age gap relationships --- in stories and in real life. However, the book isn't about their love story but about them as individuals and those around them, and everyone's development or lack thereof. The vibes are vibing in this book. Drugs, money, New York City, it honestly sounds like a recipe for me to roll my eyes. But somehow, Mellors balances this indulgence with very human, grounded character responses and most of all, the book is saved by Eleanor, a seemingly unimportant woman who begins to get a lot more screen time about halfway through the book, thank god. I love the details in this book. I want to know the color of someone's dress, the way a man smelled after a night out, the fidgeting fingers of a woman waiting for an email response back from a man she has a crush on. Mellors really delivers on the details, and it made it easy for me to melt into this book. Again, this may lack plot but it makes up for that with excellent character analyses and Eleanor, I would love a whole book just on her. A Certain Hunger by Chelsea G. Summers I can absolutely see why this book may not be for everyone, but somehow, that made my enjoyment of it more fun. There was a period in 2023 where I got very into feminine rage books. I derived strange satisfaction from reading stories where women were angry, violent, even cruel. Perhaps it was my way of channeling my own anger and frustration at the world, and it felt very cathartic. In A Certain Hunger. Dorothy, a food critic and sexually liberated woman living in New York City, details her life and what eventually leads her to killing and eating men for pleasure. Okay, you might be shocked and disgusted and I will admit, the gruesome nature of this novel is not for the faint of heart. But this story was incredibly absorbing and fun. I did not take it as a call to action, literally or figuratively. Summers gracefully weaves a narrative whose content might be grotesque but the unfolding is delicious (pun intended). I loved seeing an intelligent, successful, charming woman become unhinged, finding power and vindication in the strangest of ways. I tend to enjoy morally gray or entirely dark characters, and there was so much to explore in Dorothy's psyche. Bunny by Mona Awad And now, for the book I rated the highest that Goodreads rated the lowest, I give you Bunny. I read this in the aforementioned 2023 period of feminine rage books. This book was everywhere at the time, people screaming about it's insanity, sick and twisted plot, weird horror themes. I was intrigued if not slightly apprehensive. I almost feel like it's best to give as little context as possible about this book but for a brief synopsis. A scholarship student at a New England MFA program gets sucked into a dark and depraved group of rich girls who call each other Bunny, experiencing their strange rituals and appetite for men. If you enjoy dark academia, horror, women doing insane and disturbing things, this should definitely be on your list. It's campy, it's wild, it's confusing, and it's a book that has never really left me, which truly says something given how many books I read. If you ever want personalized recs instead of blindly trusting Goodreads, feel free to send me a recommendation request. Tell me what mood you're in, what your reading goals are, or the last book you loved and I will recommend options I think you'll enjoy. Happy reading, y'all.

I wholeheartedly love winter. Granted, I live in a part of the world where it's sunny most days, so I'm spoiled with apricity. There's nothing like a cold, crisp, sunny winter stroll, especially if it's followed by curling up on the couch with a blanket and a thick book. Winter gives me permission to slow down, take pauses, savor my moments in quiet and solitude. I don't feel pressure to have a lot of plans and I allow myself to rest. And rest always includes reading. I'm a die-hard lover of big books but I especially love a 500 or more page book in the colder months. In a similar vein of slowing down, long books let me sink deeply into a story. I've noticed that the more time I spend with a book, the more I enjoy it (as long as it's not taking me long to read because it's boring me). I encourage you to pick up a thicker book and take your time with it this season, even if it intimidates you. I rounded up a few books that I feel are great winter reads. Whether they're set in colder climates or give a sense of coziness that is difficult to describe, they're perfect companions for your dark and dreary evenings. Into Thin Air by Jon Krakauer Into Thin Air  follows Krakauer on an incredible but terrifying journey to climb Mount Everest in 1996. Krakauer takes on a reporting job for Outside magazine when they ask him to report on the commercialization of the legendary climb. He joins a well-respected expedition led by Rob Hall, and chronicles each day on the mountain. Despite knowing the outcome of this disaster, I was still on the edge of my seat as Krakauer went into excruciating details over each and every member of not only his expedition but the others who were on the mountain that fateful day. This is exactly why I love Krakauer ---- he always keeps me gripped to the page in anticipation despite knowing what technically happens at the end of his books. Also, the fact that this book is a first-hand account of someone who climbed to the peak and survived to tell the tale when many did not is simply unparalleled storytelling. Krakauer published this book pretty soon (considering) after the disaster, but it is so clear that his attempts to process and grieve through the writing of this book was not successful. His pain is left trailing the last pages of the book as it seems even he does not know what to make of what happened that day. This gripping story is perfect for a chilly weekend read --- you'll feel grateful you're in the warmth of your home while you anxiously turn the pages. The Bookshop by Evan Friss For a cozier, less stressful nonfiction read, I'd recommend The Bookshop by Evan Friss. I read this in December --- a chapter in the morning with my cup of coffee, and it was a lovely way to ease into the day. Friss goes through the history of the American bookstore, from Benjamin Franklin to the famous Strand Bookstore in NYC. Each chapter gives readers a glimpse into particular bookstores around the country and how bookstores have shaped American culture throughout the years. This would also be a great gift for anyone who loves spending hours slowly perusing bookstores (a fun and warm activity in the winter). Friss demonstrates how important these institutions are to upholding values of critical thinking, literature, art, and community --- values that are crucial in today's world. Once There Were Wolves by Charlotte McConaghy Inti Flynn is a biologist who moves to Scotland to continue her attempt at reintroducing wolves back into different wildlife areas. Inti also has a rare neurological condition called mirror-touch synesthesia, complicating her professional and personal life. Her brain makes her believe she is physically feeling the sensory experiences of other beings and animals. If she watches a deer get gutted by a hunter, she feels the knife going through herself as well. All of this, in addition to secrets that are revealed slowly throughout the story, mold Inti into a private and overly cautious woman. But she begins to open herself up to friendship and love in this little Scottish town, until the mysterious death of a local pushes her to protect the things she loves most. The mood and tone of this book were spectacular. I was glued to the page, both by McConaghy's beautiful descriptions of the wolves and native lands of Scotland, and the captivating storyline that weaves in and out of timelines. I felt like the characters were realistic and fleshed out. Inti is a flawed but likable character ---- I held onto the hope that she would find peace and happiness in the end. There are twists and turns, and I felt that secrets were revealed at perfect points in the story. Some readers may find certain scenes disturbing or gruesome, so a warning there, but I was able to get lost in Inti's world. It's the perfect winter thriller, and I devoured this book during a chilly January a few years ago. The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt The Goldfinch  is a coming of age novel about Theo Decker, whose life is thrown into chaos after he survives an accident in an art museum that kills his mother. His previously comfortable life in New York City suddenly becomes difficult and confusing. His only sense of peace comes from a small and ethereal painting he ends up stealing from the art museum --- which changes his life in ways he couldn't have imagined. I read this book in December in 2024 and it was a perfect winter read. I love a sweeping novel that spans years, that shows a flawed character grappling with the world and those around them. The details in this book are astounding. I was consistently blown away by the poignancy on almost every single page. Theo's pain, the grief of losing his mother, the person he loved the most in this world, left me in tears. And yet, there was beauty to be found in the mundane, in the people who left him feeling less alone, and despite the world throwing so many shitty things at him, Theo clung to life as best he could. This book is truly a literary masterpiece. The only critique I have is that Tartt ends the book with Theo very explicitly talking about the meaning of life and love -- which was a bit too on the nose for me. I prefer authors to leave things up to the reader, or at least, not drone on about the moral of the story for over 10 pages. Regardless, this book was such a joy to read. I will always remember reading this book during the cozy nights of December, rooting for Theo for all 800 pages. The Great Alone by Kristin Hannah To me, this is the ultimate winter read. It's set in Alaska and details the harsh landscape, specifically in winter. That atmosphere makes the story of domestic abuse even more chilling. Trigger warning, this book is heavy with it's themes of violence and PTSD. Domestic abuse is complicated, different for all victims, and I believe that Hannah does an exceptional job in navigating that complexity in this novel. When 13-year-old Leni's dad comes home from Vietnam in 1974, he is not a man she recognizes. His anger and grief ultimately leads him to move Leni and her mom to rural Alaska, where he hopes to find a sense of peace and grounding. The community they meet, including a boy named Matthew, help Leni's family adjust to the physically demanding life. But as Leni's dad sinks deeper into his alcohol addiction and PTSD, Leni and her mom realize their home may be more terrifying than the brutal Alaskan winter. I reread this book recently for my book club and felt even more emotionally impacted the second time around. There was discussion of how well the difficult relationships between Leni and her parents are handled, especially when involving addiction and mental health. The bond between Leni and her mom, Cora, is remarkable, both in its genuine depiction of deep love but also how that love can make someone sacrifice their own safety, for what they believe to be safer. The characters are flawed, the imagery is vivid, and the ending made me sob. The Great Alone does what many other stories cannot --- it grips the reader, absorbing you completely into its story, but also deals with heavy themes with care and respect. I've read many of Hannah's novels and while all have been great reads, this has always been my favorite. If you ever want personalized seasonal recs, feel free to send me a recommendation request . Tell me what mood you're in, what your reading goals are, or the last book you loved and I will recommend options I think you'll love. Happy reading, y'all.

I've had a rough time lately. If you're a regular reader of my book blog, you'll know that when times get tough, I turn to books. While my therapist suggested I read uplifting books to counteract my sorrow, my sister wondered if maybe I could lean into the melancholy and reach for stories that commune with these feelings. It's the same desire people have to listen to emotional music when they themselves are emotional. It creates a sort of kinship between you and the artist or author --- they understand your pain. It can also be a way to let out these heavy emotions without solely focusing on just your own feelings, but perhaps a collective and universal grief. There might also be a longing to just feel something . At times, depression can feel like apathy and confusion can make you feel empty. There's something about a good, hard cry that cleanses your soul and makes you feel alive again. So, here are the books that have made me cry the hardest --- in the most beautiful way possible. Dreamland by Sarah Dessen I have written about my favorite Sarah Dessen novel, The Truth About Forever , many times on this website. And it has certainly made me cry more recently as a story that understands the grief of a girl losing her dad, and I empathize with it deeply now. However, for many years, Dreamland was Dessen's novel that stuck with me because of how much it made me cry even though I didn't relate to the story personally. In it, Caitlin is a teenage girl who feels lost and untethered, especially since her older sister ran away from home. When she meets a boy named Rogerson, she is quickly sucked into his world, full of chaos and uncertainty. Trigger warning, this book goes deeply into emotional and physical abuse. I know a lot of people point to Colleen Hoover's It Ends With Us as a realistic depiction of domestic abuse, but I always feel that Dreamland is overlooked in its portrayal of the profound psychological toll of abuse. I wanted to reach my hands through the pages to Caitlin, to shake her, hug her, tell her to stop. I felt horrified yet I could see why Caitlin made the choices she did, why she felt trapped, and it absolutely broke my heart. I bawled at the end of this book, which was tragic yet had a note of hope that has stuck with me for many years. Looking for Alaska by John Green If someone were to come to me and say hey, Briana, I really want to get punched in the gut by my next read and sob like a baby, got any recs? This would be my pick, every time. I feel like out of every book I've ever read, this is the one that has made every single person who reads it cry, guaranteed. Looking for Alaska  is the story of Miles aka Pudge, as he searches for his Great Perhaps as a new student at a boarding school in Alabama. He befriends a small group of misfits, including the beautiful and mysterious Alaska Young, and is thrown into a world of pranks, cigarettes, and life contemplation. The exciting and poetic plot barrels towards an event that, once occurs, changes everything, and nothing was the same after. This book will always have a special place in my heart. I read it at the prime age of 16, and I felt intoxicated by that feeling of youthful invincibility that Green writes about. The raw adolescent emotion is alive on every single page, and I was enthralled. It's also why I cried so hard at the end. The pain, the grief, the realization that life is fleeting yet precious, always hits me like a freight train. The last few pages, the feeling of hope despite the harrowing end, makes me sob the hardest. Green writes, "We need never be hopeless because we can never be irreparably broken." Somehow, that idea can be harder to hold onto the older I get but it still rings true, and rereading this book always reminds me that I will be okay. Gone with the Wind by Margaret Mitchell I want to acknowledge that this book is imperfect. It is no doubt a product of its time, 1936, written by a white woman about the Civil War. And while there are parts that are problematic, I feel that it is an incredible character study of a woman surviving the Civil War, a narrative that is often overlooked. Scarlett O'Hara might be one of the most infamous characters in fiction. She is spoiled, selfish, vain, charming, and at times, cruel. She is extremely unlikable. And yet, she is unforgettable. Her courage, determination, grit and resilience feel incredibly real and raw. She is able to keep going because she is so stubborn and proud. She convinces herself and those around her of her worth again and again. The Civil War completely destroyed her, her family, and her land, but she found a way to rebuild. Despite waves of misfortune that continue to hit her and her family even decades after the war, despite heavy grief that plagues her, despite absolute heartbreak, Scarlett somehow finds hope and has faith in the promise of tomorrow --- "After all, tomorrow is another day." That closing line and the lead up to it made me weep for hours after I finished. The emotional impact this book had on me is so strong and altering, all 959 pages of it, and I still believe in its value almost a century after its publication. Mockingjay by Suzanne Collins It's specifically the final book in The Hunger Games trilogy that is a tear jerker. While I have some issues with the plotting and pace of this book, and many have complained about how bleak it feels, the end made me sob into my mom's arms when I was 17 for reasons I couldn't exactly articulate at the time. I'm sure many of you know the story and even the ending, whether through the books or the movies, but spoiler alert if you aren't aware. When Katniss loses her sister (and arguably her mind), and returns to a demolished and devastated District Twelve, it feels harrowing. How can she possibly rebuild life after everything she's been through? But it's that exact note of hopelessness that makes Peeta coming back so damn emotional. When Katniss needed strength, needed a reason to keep going, Peeta helped her find it. He was the soft hand that picked her off the ground. "That what I need to survive is not Gale's fire, kindled with rage and hatred. I have plenty of fire myself. What I need is the dandelion in the spring. The bright yellow that means rebirth instead of destruction. The promise that life can go on, no matter how bad our losses. That it can be good again. And only Peeta can give me that." Oh, be still my heart. I can't believe these books are labeled young adult. The heavy themes of war and loss are written in a way that people of all ages can grasp and understand. But that whisper of hope at the end, that's what always gets me. The Anthropocene Reviewed by John Green I have written about this book several times on my website. And every single time I write about it, I cry. I can't help it. I always wonder if this book would've hit me the same had I not read it when my dad was sick --- I'm not sure. I remember spending hours with him in the hospital as he received treatment, and at night, I would curl up with this book to help distract me from the suffocating sadness and anxiety I was feeling. Soon, I realized this book wasn't an escape, and instead, it pulled me back into reality --- reality of the world, of humanity, but especially, of my own personal life. Green wrote this book in the middle of the pandemic, at a time when we all experienced collective anxiety and wariness. It felt like we reexamined our lives, what's important to us, what really matters. Green writes about the mundane, like his love of Diet Dr. Pepper; the quirky, like the origin of the QWERTY keyboard; but also of humanity and what it means to feel hopeful despite grief and uncertainty. There's one essay in particular I want to highlight. It's titled "Auld Lang Syne," the famous song that people sing on New Years Eve. If you Google it, you'll know it. Green chronicles a precious friendship with his mentor Amy Krouse Rosenthal. Amy had a particular fascination with Auld Lang Syne because it was sung by soldiers in the trenches of World War I one Christmas Eve. The soldiers ---- whether English, Scottish, Prussian or German --- put down their weapons for one night and gathered to play soccer, exchange souvenirs, and sing this song. They began to sing this tune but instead with the words, "We're here because we're here because we're here because we're here." Amy died of cancer in 2017, and Green reflects on why that song and story meant so much to her. He writes, "Although it's a profoundly nihilistic song written about the modernist hell of repetition, singing this song with Amy, I could always see the hope in it. It became a statement that we are here --- meaning that we are together, and not alone. And it's also a statement that we are , that we exist. And it's a statement that we are here , that a series of astonishing unlikelihoods has made us possible and here possible. We might never know why we are here, but we can still proclaim in hope that we are here. I don't think such hope is foolish or idealistic or misguided. We live in hope --- that life will get better, and more importantly, that it will go on, that love will survive even though we will not. And between now and then, we are here because we're here because we're here because we're here." Every time I read those words, I cry. Those words have been burned into me, they are embedded in my soul. These words hold my heavy grief in gentle hands, they tell me it's okay to feel sad and scared and yet, still hopeful. I want to hop in at the end here to address the very apparent theme that has emerged in this post. Clearly for me, books that make me cry aren't inherently just about sad things. In fact, I've read many books that were sad and depressing and sometimes, just straight trauma porn. Depending on the context, that usually does not make me cry. Sadness or trauma simply for shock and awe do not evoke deep emotion in me. It is that hope despite the sadness and grief that always fucking gets me, even from a very young age. Every single book I mentioned has this theme. And maybe this post was a reminder to myself that hope is the thing that makes us feel alive, that demands our attention, that is the thing to write books about and to live for. It can be easy to forget, especially in the times when grief feels overwhelming and all consuming. But it's important and precious, and we all must fight our way back to hope. If you feel alone in your hopelessness or ever want to talk books or life or grief, I am always just an email away --- brianasbookshelf@gmail.com Happy reading, y'all.

The world feels incredibly chaotic right now. We all need pockets of comfort that we can lean into, things that can make us feel hopeful and energized. It's no surprise that when things get hard, I lean into reading. I always have. Whether I was struggling through adolescence, adjusting to a new city, grieving the loss of my dad, or stumbling through heartbreak, reading has been there for me in a way nothing else ever has. There have been countless studies and articles finding that reading is on the decline --- which I find surprising and disturbing. Surprising because it feels like reading has exploded over the last few years, most notably through way of social media like TikTok; and disturbing because I worry of the longterm impact this lack of reading and reading comprehension will have on culture and society, especially among young people. There also has been a decline of young people partying and spending time in person together , and a rise in traits like neuroticism and introversion . Not only are young people not reading (which was normal when I was growing up), they're also not socializing or drinking or having sex or interacting with the world like they used to --- which I believe are very valid (and dare I say positive) reasons to not be reading. All that to say, this combination of the world feeling chaotic and reading on the decline has made me wonder if there is some way I can encourage people to read. I share my love of books through posts on this website, but I started to wonder if I should be sharing more of why I read instead of just what I read. One of my favorite personal development books, Atomic Habits , shows that people are more likely to stick to something if they feel it is important to their identity and not just their habits. And I truly believe that identifying as a reader has made it part of my everyday life and shaped so much of who I am, and I wanted to share some of the reasons why I read and what it means to me in hopes it might inspire someone to pick up a book. I read to escape When I started asking myself why I read, this is the first reason that popped up in my head. And it's a reason I think many people identify with, especially in the modern world of social media and the news cycle and being bombarded by difficult realities, both personally and externally. Reading gets people off their phones, away from the madness, and into a different world. It's also a reason that can get kids hooked into reading early on. I've told this anecdote a few times on this website, but the first moment I remember feeling absolutely enthralled by a story was when my mom read me the first Harry Potter book when I was five years old. That series cemented my love of reading, and I have escaped into the wizarding world many times over the years, especially when things get hard. There is something specifically about books that makes the escapism feel more encompassing. Movies and TV shows are great, but reading feels personal. You get to imagine every detail in your own head -- you become the director, cinematographer, casting director. It feels like you have agency, that this is your story, and these details are ones only you will ever know. It's why I typically never prefer a film or TV adaptation of a book I love --- they will never capture the magic in my head. But what a joy it is to feel like this world is yours, precious to you and your heart. You get to escape the everyday challenges of life, but use your brain in a way that feels exciting, fantastical, and hopeful. And we could all certainly stand to use more of our brain, even if it's just for a fun escape. I read to build empathy I wrote about this a bit in my post about the current state of the book world , but I am surprised to hear how many people don't connect reading to empathy. Studies have shown that specifically fiction reading improves empathy . Getting into the mind and soul of someone else, even fictional, is a transformative experience. I'm not saying all fiction books do this, but the ones that do feel life-changing. My book club just read The Lion Women of Tehran by Marjan Kamali , a story about two girls who become friends in Iran in the 1950s, and grow to become women during this country's tumultuous revolution. We were all deeply affected by these women and what they went through, and couldn't help but see a parallel of their loss of rights to what is happening in the US right now. We found more similarities than differences between the characters and our own stories, and commended their strength and grace even through the darkest of times. Books like this exemplify how reading can build empathy. When it comes down to it, we are all more alike than we think --- we all love and grieve and care deeply. It can be easy to boil people down to their differences, but fiction helps us recognize what we all have in common, because it may just be the thing that stops the world from burning. I read because I am curious I hear from some people that the time they spend reading they want to be learning (and typically these are men talking about hefty nonfiction books), and while I understand the sentiment, it defines learning in a way that is narrow and constraining. No matter the genre, reading can improve empathy or teach you something new about someone else, or if it's smut, it can teach you something you never thought you liked about sex... there's always something to learn. And yes, nonfiction books are a great way to learn. But we all know people who read because they think it makes them seem more intelligent, or worldly, or ambitious. And while reading can absolutely improve those qualities, and there's nothing wrong with wanting to have those traits, I worry that some people read more for the aesthetic of productivity --- instead of the magic of curiosity. When I read to learn, it's because I have a hunger to better understand a topic, a country, a theory. Have you ever found yourself down a Wikipedia rabbit hole, gobbling up the facts to better understand some arbitrary topic? That's how I am with reading, especially nonfiction. And I actually feel that more people have that hunger and curiosity than they realize, but a lot of nonfiction struggles to capture that excitement. It's why books like Eve: How the Female Body Drove 200 Million Years of Human Evolution and Under the Banner of Heaven are some of my favorite books of all time. These books dive into an esoteric topic that have engaged my attention so fully that I feel like a changed person after finishing them. These are the kinds of books that make me continuously ask why and how, and reach for more books on the topic because I am so fascinated and enthralled. These stories have molded me into a profoundly curious person, something that is probably equally as fun as it is annoying. So for me, learning through reading is not about the facts or figures, it's about igniting the fire of curiosity that ultimately pushes me to want to know more, to ask more questions, to become more understanding and... dare I say, more empathetic. Because once again, I believe that empathy is the thing the world needs more of, the thing that can get us to a better place. I read because it's who I am as an Azar I feel incredibly lucky that both of my parents loved and valued reading so much. Growing up, our home was overflowing with books, and my parents actively read and spoke about their favorite books and love of reading. My dad was the one who made me love libraries. There's even an old home movie I found after he had passed, where my dad is talking to my mom in our Rockaway Beach apartment while one year old me toters about, pulling together the books from the library he needed to return and inquiring about what he wanted to borrow next. We didn't have a lot of money growing up, and many of my weekends were spent at the library with my dad, excitedly looking through all the books and painfully deciding which ones I would take home, damn those check out limits. I still almost exclusively read books through the library, an institution that is so precious in the modern world. When I read, I am reminded of my dad. When I read, I feel close to him in a way that feels harder to find the more time passes. He was the biggest cheerleader of this book website, and the one who would call me every time I published a new post to talk about the books I had reviewed. Even now, over three years later, I still feel an itch to send the link to his phone contact, hoping for a call that never comes. My grief in those moments feels crushing, but that pain reminds me how excited he was that I put time and effort into something I loved, and I never want to forget that. I am a reader because I am an Azar, a part of my identity I am incredibly proud of and attached to. It helps ground me, connecting me not just to my dad but the world around me. And it's that connection that ultimately keeps me moving forward, finding hope even when things feel dark, and it's one I will always try to share with others. If you enjoyed this post, consider subscribing to get notified by email whenever I publish. And don't forget, you can always submit a book recommendation request to get personalized book recs so you can read books you'll actually enjoy, guaranteed. Happy reading, y'all.

It's the eve of my favorite season. Even though I haven't been in school for almost a decade, there's still that sense of excitement, opportunities and new beginnings that come with autumn. With that spirit in mind, I wanted to do a post about my favorite personal development books. I've read dozens of them over the years -- my favorite part of my morning routine is when I sit down with my coffee and a chapter of a personal development book. I always feel like I'm ready to take on the day after this little ritual. I will admit that this genre is filled with forgetful, gimmicky, 'could've been an article' books. However, every now and then I come across a personal development book that changes the way I live or look at my life. There's something about a good one that gives the same feeling as a new school year -- where you're ready to learn and feeling in control of your life. So, here are the best ones I've come across. Atomic Habits by James Clear I'm getting this one out of the way first. If you've ever dabbled in the personal development genre, there's no doubt you'll have come across this enormously popular book. I read it for the first time back in 2019, and it helped me establish some routines that I still carry six years later. James Clear provides a practical, how-to guide on building habits. The way this book is structured is clear and straightforward, and his tips are still the best and most easy to implement I've ever found. One of my favorite tips of his involves stacking a habit you want to implement with one you already do. I unknowingly habit stacked when I made the decision to add a chapter of a book every morning with my long-standing morning cup of coffee, and now it's so ingrained in my every day that I don't remember the last time I went without it (except on hungover mornings, I'm not a sociopath). I often recommend this book at the start of the new year but it's also great for that new school year 'let me get my shit together' feeling. 100 Ways to Change Your Life by Liz Moody In a similar vein of Atomic Habits , this book was perfect for my one chapter with my morning cup of coffee routine. Each of the 100 ways is one chapter, a few pages long, consisting of topics ranging from how to improve your sleep, to how to find the routine exercise routine for your tailored taste, to what to look for in a partner. Liz Moody has a podcast where she interviews experts in various health and personal development areas. She compiled the best tips from those interviews to write this book, and it was a strangely fun experience to consume one every morning. This book doesn't go in-depth on any one topic, but for those looking to dip their toes into personal development or have an easy chapter to read at the start or end of their day, I would highly recommend this book. Built to Move by Kelly and Juliet Starrett If you haven't already caught on, I'm a big fan of any personal development book that gives simple, practical tips for improvement, and this one is no exception. While most of the time, self-help concerns the mind, Built to Move is aimed at the body. As an active person, one of the main reasons I exercise is to feel good in my body for decades to come, which includes dancing, lifting heavy things, jumping up and down, hiking, and being flexible. I think Americans often get caught up in the visual aesthetics of our bodies instead of the way we feel, and it's so important to find ways to support our bodies to still feel good at age 90. Built to Move gives readers 10 tests and 10 physical practices to improve mobility, strength, and flexibility. They're simple, from getting up off the ground without your hands or balancing on one leg, but effective in how they measure and strengthen your body. This book is great for those who have certain pains or aches that plague their everyday life, or those looking for small ways to improve the way they feel in their body. Eight Dates: Essential Conversations for a Lifetime of Love by John and Julie Gottman Despite my absolutely horrendous dating history, I've learned a lot about love over the years. Eight Dates is personally my favorite book I've read about how to sustain long lasting love. John Gottman is one of the most famous relationship therapists, and you might have heard about the studies that come out of The Gottman Institute that he started with his wife Julie Schwartz Gottman. This book is a compilation of what they've learned over the many decades of studying relationships, boiled down into eight conversations they believe every couple should have. If you're curious, those topics are: trust and commitment; conflict management; work and finances; family; fun and adventure; spirituality; dreams and goals. Each topic is accompanied by a suggestion of where to have the conversation (private or public, date night out or at home, etc.), what to consider for yourself beforehand, and a list of possible questions to talk through with one another. Again, I love this book because of it's practical tips -- it's rare to find a book about relationships that give you exact questions to ask yourself and your partner to find out what you align on and what you might struggle with down the line. I've actually given this book to several friends, and I will say that the ones who actually went through the book with their partners are the ones still together and married today. Coincidence? I certainly don't think so. The Good Life: Lessons from the World's Longest Scientific Study of Happiness by Robert Waldinger and Marc Schulz This is the only personal development book that has ever made me cry. That tidbit may or may not be a convincing argument for you to pick this book up. I read this book a few months after I was laid off from a job that I put a lot of work and emotional energy into. I was burnt out, pissed off, and confused. I was told for years by the world that your job is part of your personal identity and worth, and even though I was laid off because of that company's struggling finances, I couldn't shake the confusion of why I put so much energy and heart into a job that ultimately didn't care that I was hard-working and emotionally invested. My few months of funemployment led me down a path of figuring out where I should be putting my emotional energy, and where I should be building my identity and passions. I came across The Good Life and was immediately drawn in by the title -- what could I learn the longest study of happiness and how could I apply it to my own life? Turns out, the key to happiness isn't being obsessed with your job, making a lot of money, or being traditionally successful. The key is people. The relationships you sustain are the true markers of a life well-lived. And while I have always put a lot of effort and time into my relationships, I didn't necessarily make that part of my identity. But why shouldn't I? Why can't I be proud of that effort, of being a friend or family member or partner who always shows up, even when it's hard? Why can't I brag about the ways the people in my life fill up my cup and bring me purpose, the way people usually brag about their jobs or achievements? This book changed my tune on the way I define who I am. It's no longer about what I do but who I do it with and how I feel about those relationships. And not only has it made those relationships stronger, it's also taken the pressure off my job because I no longer tie my identity to what I do for work. I tie it to what I love --- people, books, traveling, dancing, enjoying small moments. Can that definition also involve my job? It can, but it doesn't have to. And it doesn't mean that I don't get hurt by people coming in and out of my life, but it does mean that I feel more resilient to the chaos life throws at me. Knowing there are people I have yet to meet who I will love, knowing how many more memories and moments there are to create with the people I already do, give me more excitement and satisfaction than any job ever could. If you enjoyed this post, consider subscribing with the form below to get notified by email when I publish a new post. Happy reading, y'all.

I'm trying something a little different for this post. Over the past six months, I've noticed that when I have conversations with people about books and reading, the same themes and thoughts are consistently coming up for me. Reading has blown up in a way I never expected. As someone who has been an insatiable and avid book worm since I was five, I love that so many more people are now discovering the joy of reading. It's one of the main reasons I started this website -- I wanted to share my joy and make reading feel more accessible. And while there are many positive effects of reading becoming cool, there are some I have struggled with and found myself asking friends and strangers if they also are mulling over these topics. So, here are some of my thoughts on the state of the book world. Separating the art from the artist I'm starting out with a bang. This is a topic that I have been grappling with for many years, as I'm sure a lot of people have. To me, it's an important question whether you can separate the art from the artist, and will always be relevant to discuss (despite a guy recently telling me he is tired of this question, but he was an ass). It applies to any artist -- musicians, actors, poets, filmmakers, painters. But of course, with the insanely disappointing reality that JK Rowling is actively anti-trans, the conversation has been especially front of mind for me. I love Harry Potter. When I said I have been a book worm since I was five, it's because my mom read me the first Harry Potter book, in her cute Polish accent, every night before bed and it embedded in me a love of reading that will never die out. I've always looked to that series as the bedrock of my passion. I have come back to it time and time again, like an old friend, waiting with open arms to welcome me into its magical world. It's been heartbreaking watching the author reveal more of who she is and disrespect so many people, especially her loyal fans, many of who are queer and found comfort in the world she created. And even more so, that she has announced she is actively using her money to support anti-trans groups. I do think there is nuance in whether you can separate the art from the artist. I don't believe it's a yes or no answer. Context is important -- at what time in history the artist lived, are they actively using their fame and platform to hinder people's rights or hurt others, did they have a controversy that seems to be an isolated event or a reoccurring toxic behavior, is it our business to judge artists' personal issues. All of these and more are important to consider. It's a question I ask myself a lot, and the answer will depend on many circumstances and is unique to each artist. In terms of JK Rowling, based on the criteria I consider, I don't feel I can separate the art from the artist now. If I were to buy something Harry Potter related, I would be giving money to her knowing she wants to use that money to hurt trans people. I am not okay with that. Now, does that mean I will never again read Harry Potter? Honestly, no. I still love that series and plan to read it to my future children in hopes they will fall in love with reading the same way I have. But I am no longer buying any new Harry Potter books or paying to see any of the spin off movies Rowling has been part of. I saw recently a book store stating they will no longer be selling Harry Potter books but encouraged patrons to buy used copies, borrow from friends (everyone has a copy), or borrow from the library. I also see so much wonderful fan fiction that has come from the series, many written by queer and trans people, and encourage those who wish to still be connected to that world and its beloved characters to look into fanfic. Wattpad is a solid place to start ( Manacled has been on my TBR for ages). As with most things in this world, nuance and context are crucial, and I have no doubt I will be grappling with whether to separate the art from an artist for the rest of my life -- but it's an important question that helps me train my critical thinking skills on a practical and grounded level, which I'm grateful for. People should be reading outside their comfort zone I've been contemplating this topic for awhile now, but dove even more into it when a Substack writer I enjoy, Steven Reese, wrote a post on it . I love the way he describes a reader’s diet -- carbohydrates being the romance, thriller, consumable fantasy that is often the genres that get people reading in the first place; protein being the classics, heavy nonfiction, and other books that make your brain work hard to grow stronger; and fat being memoirs, poetry, spiritually satisfying texts that leave your soul feeling nourished for years. I've actually written previously on a few posts how romance especially feels like candy to me -- sweet, easy to consume, but too many always leaves me feeling a little queasy and unsatisfied. I want to acknowledge that for some readers, books will always be about escapism and nothing else. It will be about getting entertainment from a page instead of a screen, and they won't feel the need to expand their hobby further. I don't want to discourage those readers but I do want to challenge that complacency a bit. Reading will always have a sense of escapism to it, no matter the genre. It's the reason I started reading and it's the reason I will always be a reader. To dive into a world that is not your own is an amazing and precious gift of reading. But another gift of reading is its ability to expand your existing world. To learn about other people, places, things, experiences, whether fiction or nonfiction. To become a more empathetic, curious human being. To want to know more. I've seen quite a few people online complain of being in reading ruts or feeling unsatisfied by many of their recent reads. A lot of the time I notice they tend to stick to the same genres. Don't get me wrong, I've gotten into reading ruts, but I notice when I balance my book diet with carbs, protein and fats, I'm much less likely to fall into one. And even more so, reading feels more satisfying and invigorating. I am a lover of all genres, it's something I admire in myself, and I know that's not the norm. However, I believe more readers could be reaching for books out of their comfort zones, pushing their minds into places that are unknown. For me, it's the way I've been able to be a consistent reader my whole life, but also a curious and engaged human being out in the real world. So, next time you're figuring out what your next read should be, I challenge you to choose something outside of your comfort zone, whether that be a thriller, a nonfiction account of the Vietnam war, or a book of poetry from Mary Oliver. You might be surprised where your next favorite book could be hiding. Men don't read enough fiction If I had a dime for every time I spoke to a man about reading and they told me they only read nonfiction, I could buy a 2009 Nissan Altima. Jokes aside, in this day and age, it shocks me how many men tell me they still only read nonfiction. I thought this video from YouTuber Man Carrying thing, aka Jake, was an interesting take from a man's perspective. What's even more confusing is when those same men tell me they grew up loving Percy Jackson, Lord of the Rings, Eragon, Harry Potter, The Hardy Boys. When I ask why they don't reach for similar adult versions of the books they once adored, they tell me they feel they should be learning from the books they read instead of just being entertained (some also say they've been reading the same boring ass book about WWII for a year now and are struggling to finish it). In a similar vein of feeling that readers should diversify their genres, I believe men absolutely should be reading fiction. First off, if you're struggling to read a book for weeks or months, put the damn thing down. Try something else. Develop a reading habit with books that actually engage you and grab your attention, and then once that habit is strong, start diving into the hefty protein books that you think are worth your time. But to the men who feel that their time spent reading should be for 'learning,' I fear that reading has been presented to you in an inaccurate way. Whatever book you read, no matter the genre, you're learning. Even smut (and men could definitely learn a thing or two from smut). Fiction is not just for women, and I have no earthly clue where that insane idea even came from. Fiction can transport you into the mind and soul of someone else. It creates empathy, shown in study after study . And if there's one thing I think men could use more of, it's empathy. So men, if there's a fantasy book (Brandon Sanderson is a great place to start), or thriller ( The Silent Patient is a hoot), or romance book (can't go wrong with the queen Emily Henry), that has been catching your eye, please, try it out. If anything, it would be a great conversation starter on a first date, or with anyone in your life. The highest form of intelligence is presenting information in an accessible way Okay, that was a long title but there's not really a catchy way of boiling that topic down. I'm going to be honest and say I used to feel that if someone sounded extremely smart, that meant they were the smartest person in the room. This notion is probably one that many people carry with them, as it feels ingrained in most societies. I'm not saying that people who use big words or have a deep understanding of esoteric topics aren't extremely intelligent, but I have changed my tune on just how intelligent or even how that intelligence is used in this world. There are many different kinds of intelligence and the world needs them all to keep moving forward. I want doctors to know minutiae details about the body when they're about to do surgery on a patient; I want astrophysicists to understand quantum mechanics in a way 99% of the population never will; I want economists to have thought of and considered every possible financial scenario or consequence to the most insane degree. However, I have come to feel that the smartest people I have encountered, whether in real life or through media and content, are able to communicate their area of expertise in a way that people can understand and comprehend. And those people are very important, equally as important as the others I mentioned, because they're the ones who can develop trust with the public and inspire others to pursue knowledge and learning. This also means they have a level of emotional intelligence that is needed to connect with a broader audience. For me, emotional intelligence has slowly become the most important quality for me, in a friend, in a coworker, in a partner, in an author. I crave intense connection but that connection can only happen when both me and the other person are empathetic, curious, good communicators and even better listeners. Carl Sagan and Neil deGrasse Tyson come to mind -- the way they've been able to explain complicated ideas with nuance and understanding have inspired so many to gaze up at the stars with cognizance as well as wonder, including myself. The books they've written are engaging, exhilarating, and accessible. Another is Cat Bohannon. I recently read her book Eve: How the Female Body Drove 200 Million Years of Evolution and was absolutely intoxicated with the way she was able to present evolutionary theories and research. She had her own opinions but explained the facts in a way that I understood and ignited a hunger -- I've already looked for more books on human evolution, matriarchal cultures, and female anatomy because her book inspired me to want to learn more. I'm not saying there shouldn't be dense textbooks or philosophical novels that are esoteric and difficult for lay folks to grasp. But I am saying that when an author is able to explain their vast knowledge in a way that is accessible and engaging, it means they have the rare combination of expertise and emotional intelligence that helps fuel the world's curiosity. And for me, that is the highest form of intelligence. If you have any thoughts or opinions of your own that you would want to share, I would love to hear from you. I'm always just an email away -- brianasbookshelf@gmail.com Happy reading, y'all.

Now that summer is in full swing, I've made a list of a few books I feel embody qualities of a great vacation read -- absorbing, fast-paced, and on the lighter side. Bonus points if you're able to read by a body of water this summer. The God of the Woods by Liz Moore I ate this book up last summer on a road trip across the country with my best friend and it was a perfect vacation read. When a camper goes missing at an Adirondack summer camp in 1975, the town comes together to find the girl, whose brother went missing and was never found 14 years before. As the search unfolds, so does the drama involving the wealthy family who owns the camp and the working-class townsfolk who become entangled with the family's secrets. This book has everything I want in a summer thriller -- a camp set in the woods, layered family dynamics, and a twist in the end I genuinely did not see coming. I stayed up long into the night, despite being exhausted from our roadtrip and exploration of new cities, to read the next chapter. If that doesn't scream summer vacation read, I don't know what does. The Rise of the Ultra Runners by Adharanand Finn Adharanand  Finn is a journalist who dives deep into the extreme sport of ultra running by completing the most famous ultramarathons in the world. I learned about the world of ultra running a few years ago when I read the best running book I've ever picked up, Born to Run   by Chris McDougall. If you haven't yet read that niche classic, I also high recommend it. When I heard that people run ultramarathons (which is anything more than the marathon length of 26.2 miles) for fun and through all kinds of extreme settings, I was floored. Some ultramarathons are more than 100 miles, through mountains or desserts, rain or shine, and can last many days. I was amazed that Finn wanted to explore this world by personally putting himself through multiple arduous races, detailing each race's twists and turns and how he was able to push through the pain. Not only was this exciting to read, but since Finn traveled across the globe to compete, I felt like I was being whisked away to exciting places to experience this strange niche world with him. Finn gives the typical running book background on the sport, describing its quick rise to a thriving global industry, and highlights some of its biggest names and their journeys. But my favorite part was hearing about these insane races through the eyes of a guy who jumped into this world feet first. He describes some of his legitimate breakdowns, including the strangest race I've ever heard of ---- a 24-hour race on a track. Don't get me wrong, I will not ever be running an ultramarathon but that didn't stop me from getting sucked into this crazy but addicting sport. If you're looking for an exciting nonfiction book that effortlessly integrates running, travel, taking risks, and pushing past comfort zones, this is the summer read for you. Funny Story by Emily Henry I couldn't write a post about summer vacation reads without including an Emily Henry. She is the queen of summer romance. It also doesn't hurt that she typically publishes right before Memorial Day, a clever marketing tactic that ensures I always read her novels as my summer begins. Funny Story follows Daphne after her fiance abruptly ends their engagement by announcing he's in love with his best friend. Now stuck in his lakeside hometown with her dream job as a children's librarian, Daphne is forced by desperation to move in with her ex's best friend's ex, Miles. Set over one summer, this story has all the ingredients for an easy, summer romance read. A hot book boyfriend, descriptions of heated days and steamy nights near water, enough tension and banter to keep me glued to the page, and everything working out in the end. I highly recommend reading this near a body of water, if possible. A Certain Hunger by Chelsea G. Summers There was a period in 2023 where I got very into feminine rage books. I derived strange satisfaction from reading stories where women were angry, violent, even cruel. Perhaps it was my way of channeling my own anger and frustration at the world, and it felt very cathartic. My favorite of the handful I read was A Certain Hunger . Dorothy, a food critic and sexually liberated woman living in New York City, details her life and what eventually leads her to killing and eating men for pleasure. Okay, you might be shocked and disgusted and I will admit, the gruesome nature of this novel is not for the faint of heart. But this story was incredibly absorbing and fun. I did not take it as a call to action, literally or figuratively. Summers gracefully weaves a narrative whose content might be grotesque but the unfolding is delicious (pun intended). I loved seeing an intelligent, successful, charming woman become unhinged, finding power and vindication in the strangest of ways. I tend to enjoy morally gray or entirely dark characters, and there was so much to explore in Dorothy's psyche. If any part of this description intrigued you, I think this would be a perfection summer vacation read. The Will of the Many by James Islington I read this fantasy novel on a trip to the Outer Banks earlier this year with my mom and sister. I was immediately pulled into the story, and it held my attention for all 600 pages. Vis is an orphaned teen in a republic whose foundation comes from the citizens ceding their Will to those more powerful. When he gets the chance to go to an academy that trains students to be the ones in power, he takes the opportunity while planning revenge against the very government who destroyed his family. The world-building is a bit confusing at first, but holds firm and gets easier to understand throughout the book. Vis is stubborn, annoyingly talented, and principled, making for a typical fantasy main character, but one that is easy to root for. I loved the descriptions of the scenery and architecture, and it's clear Islington took lots inspiration from ancient Greece and Rome. The last 10% of the book is exciting, twisted, and ends on a cliff hanger that had me pre-ordering the second book, which comes out this fall. For fans of Brandon Sanderson, or for those who enjoy a fleshed out and absorbing fantasy, this novel would be a perfect companion on any summer vacation. For more tailored recommendations, feel free to submit a Personalized Rec form . Happy reading, y'all.

In honor of Mother's Day, I put together a list of books I love that incorporate motherhood in some shape or form. Motherhood is complicated, nuanced, different for everyone, and this list covers many of those narratives. I've written about my dad a lot in my posts because writing about him helps me move through the grief of losing him, and the power of grief often overwhelms me when I read books about dads. But my mom is and always has been the light of my life. My mom is the most resilient, intelligent, joyful, warm person I have ever known. So much of who I am is because of her. Her story of being a Polish immigrant, the youngest of four, growing up on a farm in Poland, becoming an adult in the city of Warsaw, getting a chance to come to America, and creating a home and family away from her loved ones --- I could write a whole book on my mom's life and strength. My mom has been through a lot but it's her ability to laugh, find joy, be playful, and share her warmth with others that makes me proud to be her daughter. She loves fiercely and fully, and having her love my entire life makes me incredibly lucky. So, here's to all the moms out there, biological or not. There's a reason everyone thanks their moms in their awards speeches. To me, motherhood means strength, tenacity, unconditional love, yet it can be nurturing, soft, and warm. It means carrying a family on your back but doing it with pride and joy. It means taking care of people, whether blood or not, and extending empathy far beyond themselves. Anne of Green Gables by L.M. Montgomery Speaking of my mama, she loves Anne of Green Gables . Growing up in a small Polish village, she found parallels between Anne's life in Green Gables and her own --- the simplicity, the hard work, the mark of time passing with seasonal food and activities. Even more so, she loves the development of Marilla, Anne's adopted mother. While Marilla begins the story stern and cold, she slowly thaws as Anne brings warmth, joy, and imagination into her life. Not only does Marilla grow to love Anne as her own daughter, her sense of humor and wonder grows as well, molding her into an unforgettable parental figure. I read this young adult classic as an adult, and found myself smiling and even shedding a few tears as I watched the relationship between Anne and Marilla blossom into one of trust, respect, and love. Harry Potter by J.K. Rowling I've learned to be okay separating the art from the artist, which I've had to do with my favorite books of all time. While I don't want to give attention to this author, I still want to share my love for Harry Potter , because I believe readers can take whatever they want and need from this story, author be damned (it's why I respect and give space for fan fiction). Although Lily Potter isn't physically present in most of these books, her love for Harry is such a powerful theme throughout the whole series. Her sacrifice is the magic that always keeps Harry safe, and her presence is always felt and is a central theme that comes up time and time again. My mom read the first book to me when I was four years old, in her cute Polish accent, and it was the match that lit the fire for my reading passion. I remember, even at such a young age, understanding why Lily's love for her son was such a powerful source of magic, and it's a metaphor for motherhood that I've always loved and remembered. Magic Hour by Kristin Hannah Many know Kristin Hannah as a master of historical fiction centering on women's stories. But before she honed that genre writing, she wrote a lot of contemporary fiction books. I've read quite a few, but Magic Hour is my favorite of hers from her earlier era. In Magic Hour , a child psychiatrist going through her own grief begins working with a strange and lost six year old girl who refuses to speak. As she uncovers what happened to the girl, she grows to love and care for her as her own, despite the lack of verbal communication. She is able to connect through her warmth, patience, and empathy --- characteristics of so many mothers I know and respect. Motherhood doesn't just mean connection by blood, and often it's the choice to be a mother that proves to be the most powerful bond. The Dirty Life by Kristin Kimball This memoir, along with Kimball's follow-up Good Husbandry , give insight into what it means to shift one's identity when becoming a mother, and how balancing love, a farm, and family can be difficult but also incredibly rewarding. While some city dwellers like myself may sometimes glorify what farm life might be like, this story shows the harsh reality, from failed crops to ill animals. Kimball learns to become a farmer when she falls in love with one, and her journey from New York City journalist to farm matriarch is fascinating. I especially love when she talks about the physical demands of both farming and motherhood, and how she had to learn to balance both. But the joy she reaps from both identities show just how capable and strong women are, both physically and emotionally. Same As It Ever Was by Claire Lombardo At first, I wasn't going to include this novel as it can be a difficult one to recommend, but when I thought about the nuances and intricacies of motherhood, I couldn't help but think about this book. Same As It Ever Was follows Julie Ames over decades of her life, most notably when she becomes a mother. She struggles to adapt to the demands of motherhood, while keeping parts of herself from disintegrating. She is anxious, overthinks, makes many mistakes, and is constantly haunted by her painful relationship with her own mother. There were pages and pages where I couldn't stand Julie and her lack of appreciation for the life she had chosen for herself. However, Julie does grow and develop as a character, and the ending was very satisfying. This story sheds light on the more complicated and disquieting aspects of motherhood, which can be rare and controversial, but deserves a voice. The Truth About Forever by Sarah Dessen Are y'all sick of me yapping about this book yet? While I have written about how much this book means to me, especially because of the way it portrays the grief of losing a father, I feel it's an interesting look at what that grief can do to a matriarch. When Macy loses her precious father, she struggles to share her pain with her mom. Her mom can be cold, anxious, and stressed, but as the book goes on, we learn its because her mom is desperately trying to control the things within her power when she loses the love of her life. The character development of Macy's mom and their relationship feels incredibly real and raw, which makes this story all the more authentic. It shows that moms can often carry the burden of a household quietly, not wanting to unload their pain on those they love and take care of --- but how important it is to show and share those difficult emotions. The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt I absolutely love the relationship between the main character, Theo, and his mother. To see her through his eyes is magical and powerful, which makes it that more painful when Theo loses his mother in a bombing at an art museum when he is 13. The story follows Theo over the next decade as he navigates grief and life without his mother. The way he describes her --- her light, joy, humor, tenderness --- is beautiful and some of my favorite writing of a mother I've ever read. His mother deals with so much, from his father leaving and her struggling to make ends meet, yet she finds happiness and meaning in the mundane that she shares with her son. Theo seems to constantly be looking for that joy and his mother's presence everywhere he looks, which helps keep him going through dark times. Even in death, her love for Theo is the one thing that permeates his sadness, keeping her memory alive and well. The Most Fun We Ever Had by Claire Lombardo This novel is one of the best family sagas I've ever read, and I always recommend it to anyone who loves a good, thick, juicy family drama. But I want to highlight the matriarch of the Sorenson family, Marilyn. She feels so real and raw. She loves her husband and her four ridiculous daughters, yet struggles to carry the emotional weight of the entire family. She is far from perfect, makes mistakes, but her love and hope for each character is a grounding force throughout the entire 600 page novel. I love the nuances of motherhood shown through Marilyn, the good and the bad, the grief and the joy, because isn't that what being a mom is all about? If you enjoyed this post, consider subscribing with the form below to get notified by email when I publish a new post. Happy reading, y'all.

There are a few conditions that are required for me to call an author a 'favorite.' First, series do not count, they have to be one-off books. In my mind, it's much easier to write a series than it is to write successful individual stories. Coming up with an extraordinary story and then continuing it is a feat of its own, but to continuously write books with unique and engaging storylines is remarkable. Second, I have to love at least two of their books. I've learned over the years that just because I love one book by an author does not mean I will love their others (which is quite upsetting considering how hard it can be to find a new favorite book anyways). Once I love a second book by the same author, I am pretty confident I will enjoy most of the others they write. And third, the distinction of 'favorite' is awarded when I am excited to recommend the author's entire library of work to others. There's something special about finding an author with consistent writing on topics that are universally compelling ---- I literally want to run around and scream for everyone to read these books (which, if you know me at all, I've actually done). Sarah Dessen I have such a soft spot for Sarah Dessen. I read The Truth About Forever when I was a freshman in high school and I was immediately in love. Not only does Dessen write YA stories beautifully and maturely enough for adults, she also handles romance in her books really well. I've realized in the last year that I don't typically love stories where the main plot point is romance. I enjoy romance as a side quest, but I need a separate arc to drive the book. Dessen does an incredible job at creating relatable and flawed adolescent characters that are struggling with some issue other than a romantic relationship. Across her books, she's tackled death, grief, rape, domestic violence, abandonment, foster care, anxiety, depression. But the stories show that people are much more than the trauma they've been through, and hope and joy can be found in the darkest of places. Her side characters are incredible, tangible, and memorable. My favorite book boyfriend of all time is still Wes from The Truth About Forever . Every time I've read one of her books, I'm dropped into a warm bath of nostalgia, helping me remember and nurture my teenage self, who saw herself in so many of Dessen's main characters. If you can't tell, my favorite of her books is The Truth About Forever. I adored this book when I read it at age 14, but it became even more part of my soul when I reread it after my dad died. For anyone struggling with the grief of losing a parent, this story helped heal me the tiniest bit. Emily Henry For me, Emily Henry writes the adult Sarah Dessen stories. She may not be winning any Pulitzer Prizes any time soon, but every time it's announced she's releasing a book, I immediately pre-order it (which almost never happens). Henry writes romance in a way that feels more down to earth than typical of the genre. Like Dessen, her characters are flawed and relatable, and usually going through some kind of personal issue outside of their romantic endeavors. Her dialogue is superb, and I consistently find myself laughing out loud, especially at the banter between the main character and the book boyfriend. For the last 3 years, I have read an Emily Henry book on my annual Memorial Day beach trip with my best friends, and the vibe is unmatched. It may be why I have such an affinity for Henry, but I'm not complaining. My favorite book of hers is People We Meet on Vacation . It was the first of her books I read, and I devoured it on my annual BFF beach trip a few months after my dad died. The romance story was a true friends to lovers (my favorite romance trope), and it made me appreciate how lucky I am to have the friends I do. Jon Krakauer Now, if we want to talk about Pulitzer Prize winners, I will yap about Jon Krakauer until I've lost my voice. Technically, he's never won the prize, but he has been a finalist for Into Thin Air , and I feel he should have been nominated for Under the Banner of Heaven . Krakauer is one of the most talented writers I've ever encountered. He is able to take real-life events and turn them into page-turning stories. But the thing he does that is unique to the narrative nonfiction genre is the way he weaves his own experiences into his books. It's not the main point, it's not in your face, but it grounds the events he's reporting on into a more emotional reality. I especially love the way he does it in Under the Banner of Heaven. While the book is an account of a horrific killing committed by two Mormon brothers and details the religious sect as a whole, Krakauer interlaces his own personal battle with spirituality and modernity in a way that helped me process my own. For me, the highest feat of writing is achieved when an author can present you with an engaging real life story while also making you feel seen and heard. I highly recommend any of his books, but especially Under the Banner of Heaven, which is still to this day one of my favorite books of all time. John Green There's a misguided reputation John Green has gained over the last decade --- you probably know him as a YA author who writes sad stories about teenagers. And while that's not incorrect, it severely downgrades his talents and ability to connect with people in many different ways. My first encounter with Green was Looking for Alaska . It was his first novel and I read it when I was 16 and in the throes of teenage angst. That book hit me like a damn train, and it still means so much to me after all of these years. He wrote a few more YA novels, most notably The Fault in Our Stars , but none were able to get under my skin the way his first one did. That is, until he wrote The Anthropocene Reviewed , his first nonfiction book . The fact that he is able to bring incredible depth and emotion to his fiction and nonfiction writing is unprecedented to me. I personally have not yet come across another author who is able to do both so well. His writing is some of my favorite writing of all time ---- beautiful, poetic, direct, accessible, and soulful. I laugh out loud many times. I cry many times. I feel seen, heard, understood. I feel less alone. And that to me is the greatest part about books. If you enjoyed this post, consider subscribing with the form below to get notified by email when I publish a new post. Happy reading, y'all.

I truly love every genre. It's one of the things I like most about myself, though I understand many bookworms have more tailored taste. My favorite books range across the fiction and nonfiction spectrum -- from fantasy and sci-fi, to ethnography and memoirs, to romance and young adult. It's a big reason why I've been a consistent and avid reader my entire life. My reading horizons are endless, and my next five star read could be under any topic, which makes it even more exciting to explore all the book world has to offer. I've written a top books of every genre post before, but that was five years ago, and damn, have the last five years really changed me. I've switched jobs, traveled the world, gained new friends, moved into an apartment on my own, gotten my heart broken, said goodbye to my childhood dog, and experienced the devastating grief of losing my dad. I've also read some of the best books of my life, and my experiences with these stories were greatly effected by what was happening to me personally. I know that certain books hit hard because of the stage of life I was in and what was taking up a big part of my heart and mind. It's something I love about reading and rereading books --- my favorite books feel like an author writing a love letter to me personally, a snapshot of what my life looked and felt like in the moment. And if I ever want to be reminded of those moments, of who I was, and what mattered to me most, I can always revisit these treasured stories. Don't forget, you can always send me a recommendation request to get specific book recs that I think you'll love, no matter the genre. FICTION Contemporary Fiction : Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow  by Gabrielle Zevin This was one of my favorite reads of 2022, the year I read 100 books, and the year I lost my dad. While books about loss and grief hit close to home that year, so did books about friendship. I couldn't have gotten through that year without my incredible friends, and I feel insanely grateful that I have a handful of people who were there for me through my darkest moments. Although I've always put a great deal of value and effort into my friendships, grief made me realize that great friends are the best part about life, that they can get you through anything, even if they change and evolve in unpredictable ways. Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow  follows two childhood friends, Sam and Sadie, as they work their way through life and eventually begin working on video games together. That is the basic premise, but holy shit is this book so ridiculously engaging and intricate. I truly believe fiction lacks strong and nontoxic friendships, so when I find instances where it's done well, I fall in love. Sam and Sadie are unique characters that aren't the most likable but are flawed in a way that's realistic and captivating. They continuously struggle throughout the book with communication, which isn't uncommon in the real world. People in their lives often question why they're not romantically involved, and both explain that their friendship doesn't have to be sexual in order to be significant. It is such a refreshing take on male and female friendship. I also really enjoyed the video game creation storyline. The way Zevin builds the world, both in their reality and in their video games, is utterly fascinating and absorbing. Although this isn't a small book, it captures the reader's attention and holds it firmly throughout the entire story. I would recommend this book to anyone who loves fiction, but especially if you enjoy playing video games. What a strange marriage of the two vices, but what a feat of literature. Classics: Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte Classics can often get a bad rep because they may feel inaccessible to the general reader. I have certainly picked up a classic, read about 50 pages, and then put it down because it felt way too dense or esoteric for me to understand or enjoy. But I recognize how wonderful an intelligible classic can be --- they remind us that we share so much with the people of the past, that their problems look similar to our own, and their hope and resilience can be felt and replicated no matter when it's read. Jane Eyre is the story of an orphan girl who deals with abuse and neglect for most of her childhood, but somehow finds beauty in the world, molding her into an independent and hopeful young woman. When she gets a job as a governess at an estate run by the broody Mr. Rochester, she must rely on her resiliency to wade through the complicated history and romance with Mr. Rochester. I read this classic in high school and was shocked at how engaging and relatable it felt. Jane is a flawed character --- she can be naive and too trusting, but she has a strength that is admirable and inspiring without feeling too contrived. As a teenage girl, I felt a kinship with Jane, and cheered her on for every step of her journey. The romance is enough to be intriguing, but it's the haunting mystery that kept me glued to the page. If you're looking to dip your toe into classics, I couldn't recommend Jane Eyre enough. Mystery : Once There Were Wolves by Charlotte McConaghy I thoroughly enjoy a good mystery but find that the ones I've been recommended on social media often feel similar to one another and leave me dissatisfied. Once There Were Wolves had a more unique premise that I found intriguing when I first picked it up. Inti Flynn is a biologist who moves to Scotland to continue her attempt at reintroducing wolves back into different wildlife areas. Inti also has a rare neurological condition called mirror-touch synesthesia, complicating her professional and personal life. Her brain makes her believe she is physically feeling the sensory experiences of other beings and animals. If she watches a deer get gutted by a hunter, she feels the knife going through herself as well. All of this, in addition to secrets that are revealed slowly throughout the story, mold Inti into a private and overly cautious woman. But she begins to open herself up to friendship and love in this little Scottish town, until the mysterious death of a local pushes her to protect the things she loves most. The mood and tone of this book was spectacular. I was glued to the page, both by McConaghy's beautiful descriptions of the wolves and native lands of Scotland, and the captivating storyline that weaves in and out of timelines. I felt like the characters were realistic and fleshed out. Inti is a flawed but likable character ---- I held onto the hope that she would find peace and happiness in the end. There are twists and turns, and I felt that secrets were revealed at perfect points in the story. Some readers may find certain scenes disturbing or gruesome, so a warning there, but I was able to get lost in Inti's world, which is exactly what I hope for in a mystery. Thriller : Dark Matter by Blake Crouch Dark Matter  has one of the most unique and mind-bending storylines I have ever read. It follows a brilliant scientist as he questions the decisions he has made in his life and where it has brought him. He has a wife and son he loves dearly, but at times feels like he gave up a different, more successful life in the field of physics. The central theme is one every reader can relate to, but Crouch goes deeper when he chooses to explore the question of "Are you happy in your life?" The story goes down the insane rabbit hole of the multi-verse, the idea that there are infinite universes existing at this very moment, and how each decision we make alters the universe just a little bit. I remember staying up until 3 AM to finish this book because I absolutely could not put it down, which is crucial in a thriller. And the ending did not disappoint. I sat by myself for days contemplating the nature of my reality, and all the decisions I've made that have led me to where I am today, and what would be different if I had decided differently. It's a mighty feat for a book to make me feel all those feels, but Dark Matter  did and did it beautifully. I have no doubt that no matter what genre you enjoy, you will get snatched up by this book. Historical Fiction : Gone with the Wind by Margaret Mitchell I will never stop recommending this novel. It will always be relevant, it will always be impactful, it will always be a masterpiece. I can't scream about it enough. Gone with the Wind is the infamous tale of Scarlett O'Hara and her epic story of love, loss, and resilience before, during, and after the American Civil War. Margaret Mitchell was able to write an entire saga around one of fiction's most disliked characters, and still somehow make her sympathetic. Scarlett O'Hara is charming, disdainful, prideful, and at times, cruel. As a spoiled woman brought up in the privilege of a slave-owning South, there are so many reasons to hate Scarlett. But she feels real, she feels tangible, she is human. When her comfortable Southern life gets burned by the Civil War, she is left with nothing but her family and her precious land named Tara. She has to find a way to take care of her family and those who depend on her, while also grappling with the incredible pain and loss the war has inflicted upon the entire country. As a woman in the 19th century, her resilience and stubbornness is inspiring. I heard almost nothing about the women of the Civil War in school or growing up, and reading her story helped me understand the full scope the war had on Americans. There is almost no character I admire more in fiction than Scarlett O'Hara. I don't have to like her, but damnit do I respect her. She does everything she can to save herself, her family, and her land. She demands the attention of readers, as well as the men who surround her, and she is unforgettable. This book made me weep, like snot dripping down my face weep, and although some may hate the controversial ending, I absolutely loved it. The last line is "after all, tomorrow is another day," and those closing words have never left me. Family Saga : The Most Fun We Ever Had by Claire Lombardo This genre may not be a typical one, but it's one of my favorites in fiction. I absolutely love a thick, juicy family drama that spans years and sheds light on each family member. This multi-generational novel dives deep into the Sorenson family, a suburban Chicago family with four daughters. The book jumps back and forth between the years of 1970, when the parents Marilyn and David met, and the present day when all girls are fully grown with their own families. The story goes through each character's life, looking at the same situation from several perspectives. Claire Lombardo is an extraordinary writer and writes with a level of wisdom and poignancy I rarely see. To be able to write from a mother's perspective, then a father's, then one daughter's, and have it all make sense and feel so real is an amazing feat, and she does it with ease. Each character is so distinct in their voice, and while I was worried in the beginning of being able to differentiate between the four daughters, I quickly realized that each woman was unique and recognizable, and so I never got confused. Instead, I grew to have such weirdly intense emotions about each character. I absolutely adored Marilyn and David, applauded Jonah, had empathy for Liza, felt an affinity for Grace, was sympathetic though sometimes annoyed at Wendy, and freaking detested Violet. I'm not used to reading stories about the struggles of privileged middle-class America. It was an often uncomfortable read because I couldn't believe how spoiled and selfish the daughters could be when their lives had so much support and love. But that's what makes this book so astounding ---- it pulled anger and frustration out of me because I was trying to understand characters who were so ridiculously flawed. And that's what happens to us constantly in real life. We try to understand the ones we love but are often left disappointed or confused, and even hurt. But when Lombardo would dive into the emotional depth of each character, she dove so deep that I was honestly shocked. So many things rang true for me, as a daughter, as a friend, as a sister. I couldn't believe that Lombardo was able to articulate so many of life's confusing emotions, and in a way that was relatable yet beautiful. There were countless times where I had to stop reading, put my hand on my chest, and take a breath because I was overwhelmed by my reaction and the palpable emotion that was coursing through me. The Most Fun We Ever Had  spoke to my soul in a way most books don't ---- it went deep into the messy and uncomfortable parts of life and love and family. It made me call family to tell them I love and appreciate them. It made me feel grateful for the people in my life and the support I have. It made me view the world differently, perhaps with a little more kindness and compassion. Romance: People We Meet on Vacation by Emily Henry For me, Emily Henry is the queen of the romance genre. I've read every single one of her books and enjoyed them all. This book happens to take my top romance spot because it was the first of her books I read, and I came across it at a time that felt poignant. The story follows two best friends from college in two different timelines --- one from the past and one from the present. Alex and Poppy kept up their precious friendship over the years by meeting up for a vacation at least once a year. But something happened that caused them to drift away, and each chapter brings the reader closer to finding out what went wrong. I feel like this book needs the context of when I read it. It was about a month after my dad passed, and I was on my annual beach trip with some of my best friends, which I look forward to every year. I had purchased the book from a used bookstore the year before, but wanted to wait to read it on a vacation, of course. There's something about the friends to lovers trope that hits right with me. It feels more realistic to me when two people get to know each other without immediate chemistry and romance. Many relationships in romance books feel weird, forced, or overly sexual. The connection between Alex and Poppy feels so warm and familiar, and the love that blossoms between them feels natural, which for me, feels rare for the genre. This book enveloped me in its fictional world, and made me forget about my broken heart for just a little bit, all while on a warm beach with my closest friends. If possible, I highly recommend the same setting if you plan to read this book. Fantasy : The Starless Sea by Erin Morgenstern The soul-filling magic that a great fantasy story brings me is the reason I started reading in the first place. I vividly remember my mom reading me the first Harry Potter book when I was four years old, in her lovely Polish accent, and I got hooked immediately. There is something about knowing a story isn't real that strangely makes it that more personal. The Starless Sea centers around Zachary Ezra Rawlins, an introverted graduate student who is way too into his books and love of reading (sound familiar?). He discovers a mysterious book in his school library and reads something that shakes him to his core: a story from his own childhood. He begins a desperate search to find out how his own life came to be recorded in a book, and that search leads him to a secret club, an ancient library in New York, and a magical world that is hidden beneath the surface of the earth. Zachary learns of the sacrifices countless souls have made to preserve the sanctity of story-telling, and he begins to realize he may have to make a similar sacrifice. The Starless Sea  has everything I adore about fantasy ---- a story rooted in magical realism, a main character obsessed with books and adventure, and the most enchanting prose I ever read. Time and time again, this book filled me with that giddy, heart-skipping excitement that I get when I read a story that makes me feel like the fantastical is hidden behind a door that I have yet to discover. I feel like a child again when I read books like this one, hopeful that magic exists if I'm observant enough to find it. Honestly, if I were to write a fictional book, it would be extremely close to this one, and the fact that I was able to dive into a story that speaks to my book-loving soul was the most marvelous reading experience I've had in a long time. If you're anything like me and relish the possibility that magic exists right under our noses, I think you will love this book. Science Fiction : Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir Project Hail Mary is one of those rare books where the first page immediately grabs you, and keeps your attention throughout the entire journey. It is one of the best books I've ever read. The story follows Ryland Grace, who realizes after waking up from a medically induced coma, that he is the sole survivor of a space mission to save Earth from destruction. He is millions of miles from home, and feels the crushing weight of being alone in the galaxy he is hurtling through --- until he learns he might not be as alone as he thought. I am floored by Andy Weir. How can a guy know so much about science, math, and physics yet also be able to write the most perfect science fiction novel to ever exist? His writing is so rare for the genre --- it is sarcastic, engaging, has emotional depth, and had moments I laughed and cried. I felt so connected to the two main characters. The plot was clever yet reasonable (as reasonable as a journey in outer space can be). The ending was perfect, perfect . I cried so many beautiful tears. The friendship in this book is one of my favorites of all time. This story encompasses what it means to have empathy, to sacrifice, to love, and to care deeply and wholly. Project Hail Mary  reminded me why I love science fiction so much. A great sci-fi book can feel more real than nonfiction. It can engross you in its world, yet make you feel more connected to reality and those around you, giving you hope for the future of our world. I truly believe anyone would love this book, no matter what genres usually capture your attention or what season of life you're in ---- it's a modern masterpiece for everyone. NONFICTION Comedy : A Very Punchable Face by Colin Jost Colin Jost, one of the hosts of SNL's Weekend Update , isn't necessarily someone I was super familiar with before reading his memoir. I haven't kept up with SNL in years, and the times I have watched Weekend Update , I wasn't crazy about his humor or demeanor. However, I've enjoyed memoirs quite a bit over the last few years and one of my friends raved about this one and I wanted something that could make me laugh. This now one of my favorite comedy books of all time. I listened to the audiobook version, which I definitely recommend, and was shocked at how engrossing Colin's stories were. He talks about his upbringing on Staten Island, going to a fancy private school, getting into Harvard, and finding his way to SNL. All of those facts might deter you from picking this up (it certainly made me wonder how I could relate to a guy like this), but please reconsider. I laughed out loud so many times, I even cried a few times. The story of his mother as the Chief Medical Officer of the NYFD during 9/11 really moved me (that's where the tears came in). His ridiculous antics kept me entertained and engaged the entire book, and I don't know if I've ever enjoyed a memoir quite as much. If you're in a slump, or need a companion on your daily drives or walks, I highly recommend A Very Punchable Face . Personal Development : Atomic Habits by James Clear If you follow my Goodreads or are one of my close friends, you'll know I've always loved personal development books, ranging from health and wellness to productivity to rest. They can teeter on the line of gimmicky, but it's always been a favorite morning ritual of mine to read a chapter of a personal development book with my coffee. Stay tuned for a whole post on my favorite Personal Development books. This straight-forward, easy to read guide to building better habits is amazing because it actually gives concrete steps and ideas on how to build routines to be successful. If you're struggling to find balance or to instill healthy habits, it's probably not you — it's your systems. James Clear understands that people need to start small and build upon a foundation in order to see results. I used to think that goals were reached with drastic changes and big ideas, but now I know better. When you start small, you don't feel overwhelmed and you're more likely to stick to a routine if it feels easy and enjoyable. If you've got some big goals for this year, definitely pick up this book to get guidance on how to achieve them. Sports: Born to Run by Christopher McDougall For me, the best sports books are able to educate and inspire readers. They should evoke that same feeling you get when seeing your favorite team play or even when watching Remember the Titans --- a feeling of magic, excitement, and possibility. Even if you're not a runner, I have no doubt you would find inspiration from this book. It's an unusual mix of human evolution, memoir, and ethnography, but it somehow is executed perfectly. In Born to Run , McDougall effortlessly moves from talking about his own struggle with running injuries, to the science behind movement, to the practices and culture of the Tarahumara Indians, and finally about an off-the-cuff road race he pulled together in Mexico. However, if you are a runner or would like to do more of it, you need to read this book. It made me appreciate my body and its potential, and I feel like evolution is on my side whenever I lace up my running shoes and head out the door. Memoir: The Smallest Lights in the Universe by Sara Seager This book became a favorite of mine by the second chapter. Some of the best books I've read in the last few years have been memoirs, and when I discovered this was a story combining grief and exploring space, I knew I had to pick it up. MIT astrophysicist Sara Seager chronicles her life, from gazing upon the stars when she was young, to dedicating her career to finding life and planets elsewhere in the universe, to building a family with her partner from college. When both her father and husband succumb to cancer, she struggles to grieve while taking care of her two young children and keep her career afloat. It always amazes me when people can be incredibly intelligent, experts in their field, and somehow ridiculously talented writers. I have always had a love for the stars, and like Seager, still gaze upon them with reverence and wonder. The fact that Seager's story included the incredible determination to find exoplanets that could sustain or contain life made my nerdy, space-loving brain jump for joy. And yet, it's her story of grief, of losing people so precious to her, that shook me to my core. Seager's prose is direct, funny, somehow familiar. She speaks about grief in a way I have never been able to yet she could've taken the words from my own soul. She writes, “But when you lose someone, you don’t lose them all at once, and their dying doesn’t stop with their death. You lose them a thousand times in a thousand ways. You say a thousand goodbyes. You hold a thousand funerals.” Books like The Smallest Lights in the Universe  help me come to terms with the reality of grief. I never thought about it as holding funerals and saying goodbye a thousand times, but it is absolutely true. By Seager putting words to my pain, she told me she understands, it's okay, I'm not alone. And after all, isn't that the whole point? Essays : The Anthropocene Reviewed by John Green While I have loved John Green since I was 15, this collection of essays hit me extremely hard because I read them when my dad got sick. I remember spending hours with him in the hospital as he received treatment, and at night, I would curl up with this book to help distract me from the incredible sadness and anxiety I was feeling. Soon, I realized this book wasn't an escape, and instead, it pulled me back into reality --- reality of the world, of humanity, but especially, of my own personal life. The Anthropocene Reviewed  was originally a podcast by Green. I'll link the podcast here  but I never actually listened to it and I'm glad I didn't. I prefer reading people's personal words on a page, hearing their voice in my own head. It makes me feel more connected to them. Green began this podcast and subsequently published this book during the pandemic, reviewing quirky and obscure topics like the QWERTY keyboard and sunsets and Canada geese and the city of Indianapolis, rating them on a scale of one to five. He talks about making a garden in the pandemic, wondering if we'll be able to save the earth from our own demise, and the typical existential humanitarian crises. Each essay is only a few pages long, and Green's writing is some of my favorite writing of all time ---- beautiful, poetic, direct, accessible, and soulful. I laughed out loud many times. I cried many times. There's one essay in particular I want to highlight. It's titled "Auld Lang Syne," the famous song that people sing on New Years Eve. If you Google it, you'll know it. Green chronicles a precious friendship with his mentor Amy Krouse Rosenthal. Amy had a particular fascination with Auld Lang Syne because it was sung by soldiers in the trenches of World War I one Christmas Eve. The soldiers ---- whether English, Scottish, Prussian or German --- put down their weapons for one night and gathered to play soccer, exchange souvenirs, and sing this song. They began to sing this tune but instead with the words, "We're here because we're here because we're here because we're here." Amy died of cancer in 2017, and Green reflects on why that song and story meant so much to her. He writes, "Although it's a profoundly nihilistic song written about the modernist hell of repetition, singing this song with Amy, I could always see the hope in it. It became a statement that we are here --- meaning that we are together, and not alone. And it's also a statement that we are , that we exist. And it's a statement that we are here , that a series of astonishing unlikelihoods has made us possible and here possible. We might never know why we are here, but we can still proclaim in hope that we are here. I don't think such hope is foolish or idealistic or misguided. We live in hope --- that life will get better, and more importantly, that it will go on, that love will survive even though we will not. And between now and then, we are here because we're here because we're here because we're here." Those words crawled into my soul. They have been burned into me. They evoke a depth of response that shakes my core every single time I read them. These words hold my heavy grief in gentle hands, they tell me it's okay to feel sad and scared and yet, still hopeful. My dad may be gone but the love I have for him will always live on. It grounds me, pulls me into the present moment, which feels fleeting but precious. Even though it's been almost three years since my dad passed, I still get lost in the pain, but books like The Anthropocene Reviewed  remind me that life will get better, that it will go on, that love will survive even though we will not. If you made it to the end of this incredibly long post, congratulations, I'm very impressed with your stamina. If you enjoyed it, consider subscribing with the form below to get notified by email when I publish a new post. Happy reading, y'all.

As I continue down this weird and winding path of becoming a book guru, I hope I will have many more recommendations from each of these categories. The strange thing this is, the more books I read, the more picky I become. If I'm going to remember a book and call it a favorite, it has to be the best of the best, it has to crawl inside my soul and remain there, which is a hard feat because I am flooded with so many stories. While I have absolutely loved upping my reading game the last few years, many of my favorites have been with me since I can remember. There are a few new ones, but it's hard to beat the stories I read when I was young and impressionable. But that's the exciting thing about reading — you never know when you're going to pick up and experience your new favorite book. And there is nothing like the first time. *Side note, I took these categories from some of Goodreads yearly 'Best of' picks — I'll link the 2019 list here . They have the winners of all the 'Best of' categories from years past on the side of the page, chosen by the users of the website. It's a great place to get some ideas for your own TBR (aka To Be Read) list. Fiction: Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov Alright, obviously this is a ridiculously broad category, and I'll list my favorites from the other fiction categories below, but this is what the Goodreads page has winners for. I could probably pick at least ten books for this category because fiction was all I read growing up and my childhood is filled of the most magical, astonishing, life-changing reads. But when it comes to more contemporary fiction, there is one book in particular that jolted me to my core. Lolita is a harrowing, beautifully-written, fictional account of a pedophile and the girl he loves. It was actually a book I read for my English class junior year (does anyone remember Mr. Spencer), and I wrote my end-of-semester paper on this classic. I definitely still have that paper somewhere, and I believe the title was 'The Sympathetic Psycho,' and that still rings true. Above all, Vladimir Nabokov is a wizard with words — his prose reads like poetry, it is absolutely beautiful, and I don't think anyone could ever deny that. Now, the content area is where people get really twisted up about, and for good reason as it is disturbing as hell. But this novel exemplifies exactly why reading is so extraordinary and remarkable: you step into the mind of someone else, you experience life through another's eyes, you empathize with characters who are monsters. The main character, Humbert Humbert, is indeed a monster. But you feel sympathy for him because he hates himself and the life he has led, and he gives you a taste of his twisted mind through his tale of love and loss. This book moved me, it horrified me, and it has stayed with me for the last 10 years. If that's not indication of a masterpiece, I don't know what is. Mystery and Thriller: The Secret History by Donna Tartt This might be my least favorite genre (I know, I'm sorry! If anyone has must-reads from this category, please shove them in my face). I'm not exactly sure why I'm averse to mysteries and thrillers, but I guess there had to be one category in my sea of books that gets neglected. I also had to dig through my real bookshelves and Goodreads shelves to find one book that I could really call my favorite. And some might consider this novel simply fiction, but to me, it embodied the characteristics of mystery and thriller in a way I had never seen before. The Secret History follows a young man as he enrolls in a college in New England and befriends a group of strange misfit students, all who worship their Greek professor. You learn from the first chapter that they commit a heinous crime, although the novel then goes back and tells the entire story, both leading up to the event and the years after. In theory, the mystery of 'who done it' gets taken away, but the thrill of this book continues long after the last page. If you read this book at any point in the year, try to do it in autumn. Few books have been able to surpass the amazing, tangible, autumnal atmosphere of this novel. I swear I could hear the leaves crunching and smell the bonfires Donna Tartt describes. The characters are also very unlikable (at least for me). They are pretentious, careless, and consider themselves elite. It's strange to read an entire 559 page book and never grow to like the characters. But this is surprisingly what makes this book so impactful. There were so many points in the plot that I was screaming, that I was rolling my eyes, that I was pissed off at every single person, which made this book hit hard. The narrator's thoughts haunted me, as they haunted him, and the anticipation of them all getting caught was lurking behind every page. The ending shocked me, and the last few pages left an eerie feeling inside of me that I couldn't shake for days, and isn't that exactly what a mystery and thriller read is supposed to do? Historical Fiction: Gone with the Wind by Margaret Mitchell *Featuring my very loved, very worn copy If you ask me what is one of my favorite books of all time, I will always answer Gone with the Wind until the day I die. I will never stop recommending this novel. It will always be relevant, it will always be impactful, it will always be a masterpiece. I can't scream about it enough. Gone with the Wind is the infamous story of Scarlett O'Hara and her epic story of love, loss, and resilience before, during, and after the American Civil War. Margaret Mitchell was able to write an entire saga around one of fiction's most disliked characters, and still somehow make her sympathetic. Scarlett O'Hara is charming, disdainful, prideful, and at times, cruel. As a spoiled woman brought up in the privilege of a slave-owning South, there are so many reasons to hate Scarlett. But she feels real, she feels tangible, she is human. When her comfortable Southern life gets burned by the Civil War, she is left with nothing but her family and her precious land named Tara. She has to find a way to take care of her family and those who depend on her, while also grappling with the incredible pain and loss the war has inflicted upon the entire country. As a woman in the 19th century, her resilience and stubbornness is inspiring. I heard almost nothing about the women of the Civil War in school or growing up, and reading her story helped me understand the full scope the war had on Americans. There is almost no character I admire more in fiction than Scarlett O'Hara. I don't have to like her, but damnit do I respect her. She does everything she can to save herself, her family, and her land. She demands the attention of readers, as well as the men who surround her, and she is unforgettable. This book made me weep, like snot dripping down my face weep, and although some may hate the controversial ending, I absolutely loved it. The last line is "after all, tomorrow is another day," and those closing words have never left me. Fantasy: American Gods by Neil Gaiman Okay, I'm going to preface this favorite by saying that I am purposefully choosing a standalone novel, and one that is not the best of the best fantasy series ( Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, Game of Thrones) . If you're a fan of the fantasy genre, I am going to assume you have read those classics and love them as much as I do. However, if you are not typically a fantasy reader, I still think you might love this book. American Gods is about a man named Shadow who, after being recently released from prison, finds his wife and best friend have died in a car accident, also revealing their illicit affair. In an attempt to distance himself from his pain and former life, Shadow takes a job as a bodyguard for a strange man, and soon realizes that the world is much more mysterious and extraordinary than he could have ever imagined. He experiences the hidden reality of mythological gods living among humans whose powers have been slowly declining over the last millennium as less people believe in their existence. Gaiman has created an engrossing world that intertwines modernity and mythology, but in a way I have never seen before. Gaiman is actually one of my favorite authors and I have read many of his books, but none have been as captivating or convincing as American Gods . This novel examines our complicated relationship to technology, with Gaiman arguing that we have begun to worship modernity in a way that people previously worshipped the gods of folklore. It is fast-paced, funny, and engaging, which I'll admit, isn't always typical of the fantasy genre. And there's no ridiculous terminology or history of the created world that you need to keep up with in order to understand the story, something that I think puts a lot of people off to fantasy. If you're hesitant about fantasy, I think American Gods could convince you just how bewitching the genre can be when done well. Science Fiction: The Road by Cormac McCarthy Ah, Cormac McCarthy. He is truly one of the greatest of all time. His words cut through your soul, his stories are devastating, yet there is somehow inexplicable beauty in all of his novels. I read The Road when I was 17, and I will never forget the heart-wrenching ending that stayed heavy on my soul for weeks after I finished it. Okay, maybe I shouldn't be putting all of this in the beginning of the review and I don't want to scare you off, but I have to warn you, this novel is not for the faint of heart (none of McCarthy's works are). But the journey is so eloquent, so moving, so provoking, it's worth it. The Road is a post-apocalyptic novel about a man and his son as they journey across the barren land towards the coast in hopes of finding any remnants of human civilization. I've read a lot of post-apocalyptic fiction over the years, but no story has ever hit me the way this one did. It's simple in its premise and delivery, yet this somehow heightens the emotion and intensity. I remember turning the pages anxiously, sneaking reads in during my shift at the Durham restaurant Parizade, and finally finishing the entire novel in my car before I left work. I sat in my car for probably twenty minutes after I finished, attempting to process as tears streamed down my face. And that memory has never left me, that feeling has remained, and I have no doubt it would do the same to any reader who picks it up. Humor: Calypso by David Sedaris So, this is an odd category that I'm surprised is even on the Goodreads yearly 'Best of' list, but I think it's important to recognize the books that are able to make a reader laugh out loud because it is definitely rare. And while I haven't necessarily delved too deep in this category, there is one author, and one book in particular, that felt so refreshing in its honesty and humor. Calypso is an autobiographical memoir from the infamous writer David Sedaris. I'm not exactly sure how to describe Sedaris and his writing. He writes about his strange life in bits and pieces, pulling humor out of the most mundane occurrences. He is definitely not for everyone — he is crass, absurd, and relentless in his self-deprecation. But oh my god does it work. Calypso goes more into his later years, including the ways his family has dealt with the death of the matriarch and also of Sedaris' sister. He and his family end up buying a house on a North Carolina beach, and he reflects on some memories he has of his wild and obnoxious family, specifically when they vacationed at the beach over the years. I definitely connected to the stories about his absurd family (hi, Dad, love you), and the ways every member deals with trauma and tragedy differently. Sedaris' writing feels like sitting down to have a coffee with a close friend you haven't seen in a while, one that makes you laugh and roll your eyes, but inevitably leaves you feeling less lonely than before. Nonfiction: Under the Banner of Heaven by Jon Krakauer Over the years, many nonfiction books have wiggled their way into my favorites, including Evicted by Matthew Desmond, which you can read more about in my top books of 2019 post here . That book is certainly one of the best nonfiction books I've ever read and I believe everyone should read it. But Under the Banner of Heaven is one of my favorite books of all time, period. Nonfiction or fiction. I don't think I could ever fully articulate what this book did to me as a person. It changed me in the most unexpected ways. It is one of the most engrossing and well-written books I have ever read. Jon Krakauer is probably one of the most famous (and arguably best) biographers of all time, and his work has won countless awards and been on numerous 'Best of' lists, most notably Into the Wild . But there is something about Under the Banner of Heaven that connected with my soul in a way few books have, let alone a nonfiction book. The Goodreads page calls this book "A multilayered, bone-chilling narrative of messianic delusion, savage violence, polygamy, and unyielding faith," and I really could not have described it better. It is absolutely bone-chilling. It centers around a haunting narrative of two Mormon fundamentalist brothers murdering their sister-in-law and one-year-old niece, which in and of itself is a winding and complicated story. But it is also about faith, human behavior, and religion's battle with modernity. While this story and its history is fascinating on its own, it is so much more gripping because of the way Krakauer pieces the narratives together. He is no doubt a master storyteller, somehow creating anxiety and anticipation in a story that has a well-known ending. I read this book one summer when I was 19 and working as a lifeguard, stealing away into the break room to read just one more chapter. I distinctly remember finishing the book on a lounge chair on my back deck during a cloudy afternoon. I remember this feeling of horror, and of fascination, and of disbelief. I remember processing the story piece by piece, trying to understand the battle that seemed to be waging in my soul over the humanity of the story. Even as I sit here writing, I am still struck by the weight of this book that I read so long ago. I am still heavy with the reality of what happened, and what it means for the human psyche, of what it means for me personally. There will never be a nonfiction account that hits me like this one, making it one of my favorite books of all time. Young Adult Fiction: The Truth About Forever by Sarah Dessen and Looking for Alaska by John Green I really tried hard not to have a tie in any of these categories but I'm sorry, I cannot choose between these two favorites. Let me start by saying that all of my choices for these categories are not necessarily the best books I have ever read (aside from a few I mentioned that specifically are), but they are my favorite. They are not necessarily of the highest quality, the most elegant, the best written books, but they don't need to be. They are part of my soul. And both The Truth About Forever and Looking for Alaska are perhaps more part of my soul than any other books I have discussed here (besides Harry Potter , I mean, nothing will ever be more an embodiment of my soul than my beloved series). These two books have become ingrained in my emotional DNA. And there is a big chance that had I not read them when I was in my angsty adolescence, I wouldn't feel the same way about them. But by chance, I read them at a time I needed them most and when they would make the most impact, and they will forever remain in my heart. The Truth About Forever is a book from one of my favorite authors, Sarah Dessen. It follows Macy, a 17-year-old girl who recently lost her father and is struggling to process her grief and move on with her life. She meets a rambunctious catering crew, filled with the most wonderful and memorable characters, who help her realize that it is okay to be sad and it is okay to let go of control sometimes. This might be the book I've reread most in my life. Every time I read it, I feel like I'm slipping into a warm bath of nostalgia. When I'm sad and need a quick pick-me-up, I always reach for this book. Not only does it flow beautifully, with characters who jump off the page with their tangibility, but it also grapples with loss and pain in a way that feels extremely relatable. Not to mention it has my favorite male character of any book ever (sigh, Wes, ugh). I have read every single one of Dessen's books and while they are predictable and comfortable and always enjoyable, there will never be a book that feels more familiar and warm as this one, and I will reread it until the day that I die. Looking for Alaska is John Green's first novel. He has since blown up considerably, with more famous books such as The Fault in Our Stars , and I have read them all, but none of them came even close to the impact as this one. I remember getting this recommendation from my best friend (hi, Noelle), but feeling hesitant because at the time, I was attempting to be as pretentious as possible and only read novels deemed a classic, like Anna Karenina and Pride and Prejudice. I told myself I could use a break from the hefty and dense novels I was tackling, and agreed to give John Green a try. Looking for Alaska is the story of Miles aka Pudge, as he searches for his Great Perhaps as a new student at a boarding school in Alabama. He befriends a small group of misfits, including the beautiful and mysterious Alaska Young, and is thrown into a world of pranks, cigarettes, and life contemplation. The exciting and poetic plot barrels towards an event that, once occurs, changes everything, and nothing was the same after. I could probably give a list of the top 5 books that made me bawl my eyes out, and this would absolutely be one of them. The raw adolescent emotion of this book is so incredibly powerful that it stays with you long after you finish the book. It also has my favorite last few pages of any book ever. Pudge reflects over the events that have taken place as he grapples with his grief, and writes that “When adults say, "Teenagers think they are invincible" with that sly, stupid smile on their faces, they don't know how right they are. We need never be hopeless, because we can never be irreparably broken. We think that we are invincible because we are." My 16-year-old self absolutely relished those words. At the time, I felt intoxicated by that feeling of invincibility that Green writes about. I did many dumb, teenage things during those years, but reveled in them because I knew I would never be this young and stupid ever again. And even when I reread the book today, I get that same incredible feeling of power, of promise, of adventure despite the harrowing end. I remember how I felt to be young and reckless, but I also remember that I do not have to lose that feeling as I get older — I just find new ways to experience that thrill of life. For both of these books, there is a chance that they will simply not hit an older reader as hard as they hit me in my youth. But if you enjoy YAF (Young Adult Fiction) and you haven't read them yet, I think there is still a chance you can feel the enduring and unforgettable emotion that I did. And if there is that chance, why not try?