I accidentally went a month without posting a newsletter because I overthought the catch-up. But! Breaking the ice by doing a bare bones summary of May reads.
May has required me juggling about five different urgent paths at once that I have to do now to know what my fall and next year look like. So, some grace there, but I don’t enjoy time away from WLS. The reason this blog is now over 15 is because I yearn for it when it’s not in my priority list.
This week is a fair split between book reviews I transferred over to Substack for discovery, and book reviews I wrote from this spring up on the blog. A lot of favorites in this list!
RESURFACED REVIEWS
Jellicoe Road by Melina Marchetta is my all-time favorite book. Does it bode well mentally that I’ve revisited it twice in 2026? Maybe not. With each reread, I love it even more.
Revolution by Jennifer Donnelly is a dark masterpiece that held the top spot for me from about age 13 to 16, and forever lives on the list. It’s mind-blowing and ambitious. I don’t read historical fiction frequently but when it works, it works. This one popped into my head because of the maybe-speculative hook being structurally similar to Caro Claire Burke’s Yesteryear premise, which has occupied a lot of the cultural conversation this spring.
The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas has always been a favorite classic of mine, and it’s fun to teach. The narrative embodies a lot of the symbolic weight we assign to having “earned” anything via suffering and contrast, which is a dynamic I think about frequently.
Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami, because it reminded me a lot of Flesh by David Szalay (need to fully review) in terms of its commentary and my resulting psychoanalysis. While I’m glad I read this one to be able to cite my thoughts on it, Norwegian Wood makes me deeply sad and is the exact type of bleak tone I don’t process well emotionally. (After reading it in early 2025, I cleansed my palate with some Mary Oliver.)
Cultish by Amanda Montell, a social history of in-group language—and how that contributes to communities like CrossFit, startups, MLMs—that I reference almost daily.
ENTIRELY NEW REVIEWS
Moral Ambition by Rutger Bregman—I liked Humankind: A Hopeful History and was interested in the soul-searching topic of this one while on the job hunt i.e. how to do the most good in your career. Unfortunately, I thought it was weirdly contradictory and subjective in a way I didn’t find helpful.
American Fantasy by Emma Straub—I hadn’t read any Emma Straub before, and her writing style feels very familiar to me in a way I can’t quite articulate yet: this very specific grasp of “ugly” details, which fit for this book being about aging and uncertainty through the prism of a boy band reunion cruise. I enjoyed it plenty, but never felt connected to the book. I absolutely appreciate what it does and see why it’s popular!
Deep Creek by Pam Houston—A new favorite that made me yearn to move to a worn-down ranch in rural Colorado. God, the sense of place and the precision of nature here is so stunning. I loved Cowboys Are My Weakness last fall, so I’m ready to devour as much as I can by Pam Houston. I would book club this one for hours.
Courtroom Drama by Neely Tubati Alexander—on the heels of Jury Duty, this romance captures the mundanity of being sequestered in a weirdly fun and appealing way. I had a lot to unpack around the stakes and parasocial commentary, and it might be a fun beach read for the reality TV set. (P.S. My top pick in that lane is still The Villain Edit by Laurie Devore, which I think is massively underrated.)
Flesh by David Szalay—I’ve put off reviewing this Booker Prize winner because I want to go in-depth (both re: the book and its cultural position) and haven’t had the bandwidth yet, but I published a pre-review because I couldn’t put it down.
Saving Francesca by Melina Marchetta—Marchetta can do no wrong for me, and Saving Francesca has some lines in it that meant so much to me throughout high school and college, especially in regards to figuring out which friendships are meant for you.
A Swim in a Pond in the Rain by George Saunders—got in my head because of his delivery of my personal favorite commencement speech, “Congratulations, by the Way” which is about his biggest regrets being failures of kindness. Plus, I’ve been on a “nonfiction about writing” kick this last year so could stand to read him breaking down some Russian short stories.
I started Angel Down by Daniel Kraus, the most recent Pulitzer Prize winner, which reminds me stylistically of McCarthy and thematically SenLinYu’s Alchemised (oddly enough) for its depiction of war brutality and dehumanization. This year, I’ve talked about how I’ve respected books that take big formatting swings or have little bits running through them, like the gnat spelling in Madeline Cash’s Lost Lambs or the script tags in Shannon Spann’s A Stage Set for Villains, and the hook of Angel Down is that it’s written…all in one sentence. Unfortunately, I may not make it through Angel Down because I’m finding it so nauseating in that I flinch when I think of returning to it.
I’m very fond of Town & Country and just picked up The Kennedys and the Windsors, which was just released by their Digital Director, Caroline Hallemann.
BOOK-TO-FILM ADAPTATION
At this point, I have accepted that Elle Kennedy’s books and I do not get along; however, I’ve enjoyed the 2-3 hour giddiness of hockey romances, both for their innate fun and to stave off FOMO, so figured I’d give another book a chance after putting on Off Campus. So I read The Score and The Goal.
While I haven’t watched the second season, the show adaptation dropping on Netflix this week reminds me: I think A Good Girl’s Guide to Murder by Holly Jackson—a YA mystery that’s sold millions of copies—deserves all its praise and more. The depiction of trauma in Good Girl, Bad Blood is absolutely excellent, and Pip is such a refreshing character. I’m personally picky about audiobooks, but I also love this series on audio as well as print. The books incorporates interview and podcast storylines, so the sound variation is amazing and so immersive—probably the only audiobook I can remember actually listening to in one sitting. If you’re gearing up for a summer trip with a long drive, or stocking the beach tote/camp trunk for a reluctant reader, highly recommend!
This spring’s been lighter than I’ve wanted on the reading front, but June and July are usually my heaviest reading months of the year. Mostly because my family eventually heads to a time-share at a cottage in Canada, where we fill the windowsills with all the books we’ve been meaning to get to all year.
This year, my Canada reading list is especially long. I might even treat myself to some Steinbeck, which I’ve been rationing because I dread the day my list runs out.
More soon! Hope y’all are having a great start to summer.