Review: "Out of Left Field" by Jonah Newman

Out of Left Field by Jonah Newman
Published March 2024 via Little, Brown Books for Young Readers
★★★

A semiautobiographical graphic novel about baseball, identity, and being true to yourself. I recently made a list of a whole bunch of graphic novels that my library has that interest me, and this was (surprise!) on the list.

It's a story that takes a longer path than some—the entirety of high school rather than, e.g., just a summer or a year. Jonah (the book version) has a lot of growing up to do over the course of those four years, from figuring out his own sexuality to realizing who his true friends are to seeing the world a bit more clearly. And, of course, to getting better at baseball.

The art feels a little simple to me (more "comic" than "graphic novel", if that makes sense), though it's consistent and, you know, miles better than anything I could draw myself. I do wish the plotline with Jonah's lone female baseball teammate had gone into a bit more depth; she pops on page every once in a while to be (rightfully) annoyed that the coach has given her approximately zero playing time while dedicating a tremendous amount of time and effort to moving Jonah from "bad at baseball" to "decent at baseball". It's clear that the author can see the discrepancy, but even at the end of the book I'm not sure book-Jonah ever really gets that even if he's not actively impeding her himself, he's doing nothing to help. It does feel realistic (teenagers are going to teenager!), and I'm not sure quite what I might have hoped for, but I did want a little something else there.

A quick read, in any case, and I think one where a lot of readers will find something to relate to.

Review (Deutsch): "Cats Tagesbuch: Lass die Ratte aus dem Sack!" von Franziska Hollbacher

Cats Tagesbuch: Lass die Ratte aus dem Sack! von Franziska Hollbacher
Herausgegeben 2026 von Magellan
★★★★

Wunderst du dich, was eine Katze denkt...? Wundere dich nicht mehr. Jetzt wissen wir: Der Kater von Cats Tagebuch ist klug, hat viel Selbstvertrauen... und will nur, dass alle Leute und andere Haustiere wissen, dass er der "Top Dog" ist. Ähm, "Top Cat."

Hier gibt es ein kleines Geheimnis und viel, viel Sarkasmus—der Humor ist sehr trocken—aber meistens ist die Geschichte ein hemmungsloser Ritt durch ein paar Tage im Leben eines Katers. (Es gibt natürlich eine Katerstrophe oder zwei...)

Ich fand die Geschichte echt lustig, mit einfachen Zeichnungen und nur ein bisschen Chaos. Perfekt für ein Kind, das eine Katze hat...oder eine Katze wollte...oder eine Katze sein wollte.

Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley. Deutsch ist nicht meine Muttersprache, und alle Fehler sind meine eigenen.

Review: "Rupture Anthem" by Hera Naguib

Rupture Anthem by Hera Naguib
Published October 2026 via University of Pittsburgh Press
★★★★

Poems of belonging and loss. I've been very into poems of place of late—more generally, I like collections with strong themes, and this delivers. The book spans countries, from Saudi Arabia to Pakistan to the United States; there's a sense that what home means shifts in each place. At times I could nearly smell the difference in the air, the hot dry heat of Saudi Arabia's desert competing against street food stalls in Lahore.

The language is clear enough to follow and slippery enough to keep one thinking, which is just how I like poetry; this is all personal preference, of course, but I don't have a poet's brain and thus am happiest with things that have enough of the literal that I have a hope of understanding but that still make me work for it (poetry being one of those things that is most satisfying when you feel like you've earned it).

I couldn't take many notes on this one, because I had to read it on my phone, so I'll keep this short—but recommended to those looking for poetry about identity, place, home, navigating spaces not built for you.

Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.

Review: "The Prince and the Dressmaker" by Jen Wang

The Prince and the Dressmaker by Jen Wang
Published February 2018 via First Second
★★★

Frances just wants to make dresses—someday she'd like to be a famous designer, but for now she's happy enough as a seamstress...more or less. When she's hired to work for a royal, though, things change: Prince Sebastian wants nothing more than to take the world by storm, wearing one gorgeous dress after another.

This is energetic and lively, with playful illustrations (and, credit to Frances, some truly fabulous gowns). I struggled a little with the very feel-good ending: The book is set in Europe in the past, and although there have always been queer and gender-non-confirming people making their place in society, the climax at the end here just didn't feel realistic for the time and place. And maybe that's the point; it's basically a fantasy of acceptance and self-expression. I do wonder what this would have felt like with a more ambiguous location, though. I also would have preferred romance to be taken out of the mix—again, this is a bit of a fantasy thing (prince falls for commoner), but I really liked Frances and Sebastian's dynamic as friends, and some of that was lost when they went all googly-eyed for each other.

Still lots of fun, but left me wondering in the end. 3.5 stars.

Review: "The Tyranny of Thinness" by Céline Leboeuf

The Tyranny of Thinness by Céline Leboeuf
Published October 2026 via North Atlantic Books
★★★

Part memoir, part philosophy: In The Tyranny of Thinness, Leboeuf looks at cultural standards of thinness—and at her own anorexia—through the lens of philosophers.

In its simplest form, my thesis is this: Changing your physique—whether through diet, exercise, cosmetics, or surgeries—to conform with beauty standards will never bring you true pleasure or lasting happiness, despite the false claims by diet culture and the beauty industry. Only alternative ways of thinking about your body, combined with your own suite of practices for being in your body, will deliver the pleasure and happiness you deserve. (loc. 71*)

I went into this knowing that the memoir portion would be more interesting to me than the philosophy portion, and that held true. Leboeuf's background as an academic here shines through, from the format of the book to the philosophers she cites; although she does pull on some contemporary writers, her heavy hitters tend towards big-name philosophers (and feminists). I did appreciate that in her own experience she was describing an illness that was entrenched but not...how do I put this...on the far end of the bell curve; rather, it was something that I think will resonate with a lot of readers who have struggled with body image and/or disordered eating and/or eating disorders. (Though—as always, would have preferred that numbers had not been included.)

This will work best for readers with a bit more of a philosophy background (or a desire to gain a bit more of a philosophy background) who are looking to view weight-loss culture from a broader but different-than-normal-approach lens.

*Quotes are from an ARC and may not be final.

Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.

Review: "All That Dies in April" by Mariana Travacio

All That Dies in April by Mariana Travacio
Translated from the Spanish by Will Morningstar and Samantha Schnee
Published October 2026 via World Editions
★★★★

High in the mountains of Argentina, there is very little hope left. Lina and Relicario's son left years ago, looking for work; the region has dried up, and there is little work and little greenery and little hope for anything different in the future. Lina wants to leave, to seek her son and a different future. Relicario cannot imagine leaving their dead behind.

This is the first in the series of translated works, one for each letter of the alphabet. Argentina is A, Belgium is B, China is C, and the rest remains to be seen (as does what the series will do when it gets to W and X! At least with W there's the disputed territory of Western Sahara, but I'm not sure where you'd go with X). I love the concept; I've long liked the idea of doing a round-the-world book tour and reading a book from every country, but unfortunately, I've also met myself and am aware that I'm bad at that sort of challenge. There are just too many other things I want to read to lock myself into ~200 books based on location.

All That Dies in April makes for something of a curiosity of a book, drifting dream-like in places and all too aware of human frailty in others. Lina is too practical to hold on to all that she has ever known, while Relicario carries on soothing conversations with the dead. She's content to adapt to the unknown, I think, while he's content to adapt to a world withering around him, as long as it's the world he is familiar with.

Later in the book, perspectives shift, and I had a harder time holding on to who was speaking and what their content was. This turned the book from a 4-star to a 3.5-star read for me, but still a very engaging read. As the book goes on, the cracks lower down, where the grass is green and the living is relatively easier, start to show. The ending is fairly abrupt, but in a way that is fitting for the book.

I don't want to commit to ~26 unknown books (and am not all that interested in the Belgian or Chinese books picked for the series), but you can bet that I'll be keeping an interested eye on what comes next. (And: If you looked at a list of countries in alphabetical order, which countries would you choose to read books from?)

Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.

Review: "Like Glass" by Jen Ferguson

Like Glass by Jen Ferguson
Published October 2026 via Heartdrum
★★★★

Just over a year ago, Tatum's sister died—suddenly, unexpectedly. Her parents went to Chamonix to bring her body home, but her father hasn't been home since, and now Tatum is determined that she won't lose him too—that it's time to go bring him home.

Now. Yes please to travel books and books with indigenous main characters (especially ones interacting with their identities in interesting ways) and the unexpected. France is not an unusual place for a YA main character to visit (I mean, to be fair, it's not an unusual place for your average North American to want to visit, either), but the way Chamonix is approached is unusual: Tatum is there as a tourist, to some degree, but her father is there to work, and Tatum does not have the slightest interest in the classic touristy things or perfect Instagram shots. Tatum's father is Métis, and he knows what that means for his life and his work, but Tatum is still figuring out what that means for herself and her art...and how much other people get to define that.

Fundamentally of course this is a story about grief: Tatum's grief over the loss of her sister, her father's grief over the same, Tatum's grief over the emotional loss (for lack of a better term) of her father in the past year. They're past the rawest of it all, but they also know that things can't be and won't be the same again, and all there is to do is tromp through the murky tomorrows. Mixed in with that is friendship—Tatum is not shy about meeting new people—and some wee hints of romance, and, unexpectedly, ski jumping, which I will not ever complain about finding in books. (The only other ski-jumping book I've read, as far as I can remember, is The Finnish Line, and even then I think that's a different type of ski jumping.) There are some definite bad decisions, but those fall shy of catastrophe, which I appreciated; it would have been pretty easy for those decisions to derail the plot, and it got to go in more interesting directions because that didn't happen.

I particularly loved the author's note at the end about labels, and why this particular book doesn't contain a lot of them—namely, that Tatum is not a person who needs or necessarily wants a lot of labels, and so they're appropriate for some characters but not so much here. A lot to think about, both in the book itself and in that note.

Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.

Review: "Dan in Green Gables" by Rey Terciero, illustrated by Claudia Aguirre

Dan in Green Gables by Rey Terciero, illustrated by Claudia Aguirre
Published June 2025 via Penguin Workshop
★★★

Dan's life with his mother hasn't been the most stable thing ever—they're on the road, bouncing from place to place, following his mother's whims. But when she takes him to stay with his late father's parents, everything changes.

This is, of course, a play on Anne of Green Gables, one in which a queer boy in the present-enough day finds a new home in Tennessee. Marilla and Matthew's roles are flipped here: Dan's grandmother welcomes Dan and every part of his identity with open arms, while his grandfather is not really prepared to take in an outsider, much less when that outsider is visibly queer and refuses to bow down to the fire-and-brimstone church minister. I had mixed feelings about that—on the one hand, I don't think it's unrealistic for someone of Dan's grandfather's generation and culture and so on to be quite homophobic (and racist) and to have very specific expectations of boys; on the other hand, it's quite a departure from Marilla's hard-but-mostly-fair attitude.

On the whole this is really thoughtful, with both Dan and many of the characters around him needing to do some growth. I think I would have preferred it as a more standalone book rather than a reimagining of something else, but it was an interesting addition to a subgenre.

Review: "Trad Wife" by Sarah Langan

Trad Wife by Sarah Langan
Published September 2026 via Atria Books
★★★★

And we're back on the trad wife book train! In Trad Wife (not to be confused with Tradwife or The Trad Wife), Jenny's writing career has just imploded, and in a last-ditch effort to save it, she takes on a challenge: She'll spend a week with one of the country's most popular trad wives, Mia, and write about the experience. It'll be a close-up view of a life much of the country is desperate to get closer to, and a view that few people get. Under the circumstances, whatever she writes is likely to go viral. What she doesn't know is just how Wrong life at Black Swan Farm is.

Now. This is one in a string of trad wife books that I've read, and I don't want to go into detail on differences just yet, because there are still a few more in my queue (I do love a theme). One thing that has struck me, though, is that a disproportionate number of the protagonists are journalists or journalist-adjacent. I imagine part of this is simply because the world of influencing overlaps with the world of reporting (whether this should be the case is another question entirely), and part of it is because "writer investigating something weird" is a solid way to get someone unconnected with a particular world involved in it...but it's still odd to me.

This is one of those with a journalist, of course, and also one of those where the journalist goes in expecting to write some big exposé. In this case, Jenny thinks that her exposé is going to be partly about abuse—abuse of Mia or abuse of Mia's children or possibly both—but the truth goes far deeper, and far weirder, than she can possibly imagine.

For the most part I like Jenny. Her decisions aren't always the best, but to be fair, she didn't expect to land in a story with supernatural elements. Those supernatural elements are not really my favourite—personal preference, but supernatural stories just aren't as alarming to me as things that can happen in real life (see: trad wives), and so instead of making a story more creepy to me, they make the story rather less creepy. But so far, this is pretty high on my list of this weird and wild subgenre. 3.5 stars and one to read if you've read Yesteryear, of course, or if you haven't but are curious about what might happen if ballerinafarm got...weird. (Or maybe just weirder than it already is.)

Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.

Review: "The Velvet Knife" by Maureen Johnson

The Velvet Knife by Maureen Johnson
Published September 2026 via HarperCollins
★★★★

Stevie's back! And this time she's off to New York to avoid spending the holidays with her parents...and to lick the wounds of her breakup. No murders to solve...until a neighbour in the apartment she's staying in in New York dies, and things get complicated.

I've loved this series, and The Velvet Knife is no exception. Stevie has a knack for getting pulled into strange cold cases, and if this is one where she doesn't really understand until well into the book that there is a cold case at all.

She was Blue now. Helen was gone, her old identity falling away like a feather from a bird's tail. She would try to snatch it back later, but you can't put a bird back together again, feather by feather. (loc. 353*)

The mystery is standalone, though it helps to have read at least some of the earlier books to follow all of the relationship details. I did find myself wishing that I'd done a reread of the earlier books in the series before diving into this one, just because it's been a while. Stevie's personal life is very much the secondary conflict here, though, and I quite enjoyed the past storyline (something to do with me enjoying things set in the 70s, I suppose). So perhaps this is impetus for a reread!

*Quotes are from an ARC and may not be final.

Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.

Review: "Ungrateful Immigrant Daughter" by Katya Suvorova

Ungrateful Immigrant Daughter by Katya Suvorova
Published September 2026 via Alcove Press
★★★★

When Suvorova was three, her mother took her from their home in Russia to Mexico and then across the US border. I will never go back home again, she writes, but I don't know that yet (loc. 135*). What followed was a desperate chase for the elusive green card: men who promised stability; men who said they were looking for love; men who dangled the promise of a green card application as a carrot always just out of reach; men who threatened to turn Suvorova and her mother in to the authorities.

I didn't know it then, but there will be many, many men opening their arms in front of their apartments, town houses, homes, and saying the exact same thing. Have you ever seen anything this nice before? Only Joe will be able to say it in Russian, but we will understand. (loc. 177)

Ungrateful Immigrant Daughter is Suvorova's story of growing up undocumented and on unstable ground, not only with the men who fell in and out of her mother's life but with her mother herself. And it is a gripping story. I read half of it in one day and then slowed down (a bit) so it would last a bit longer. The story is told in two timelines, with the majority taking place during Suvorova's upbringing and a later timeline discussing her finding her biological father in adulthood. But the strongest material, by far, is about Suvorova's relationship with her mother.

With time, I will realize how scared she was. I will realize that my mother knows desperation in a way I never will. (loc. 240)

My grandmother often tells me how she begged my mom to leave me with her, but my mother refused. I think regularly of what a life in Russia would have looked like for me, who I would have become had my mom left me. Would I be someone I like more? I also never got to know the version of my mom who grew up in her home country. [...] I wonder what direction our relationship would have grown if she hadn't taken me with her to this country. (loc. 560)

This is complicated, messy material about complex, real people. It's so clear how many layers Suvorova's understanding of her mother has: someone who was smart and resourceful and determined; someone who missed her own mother; someone who took the limited options available to her and ran as far as she could with them; someone who perhaps never understood and perhaps never tried to understand her daughter; someone who looked the other way when her daughter was abused; someone whose desperation changed her irrevocably. Suvorova sees this, and she loves her mother; she sees this, and she knows that a relationship under these terms cannot be healthy for her. There's both compassion and clear-sightedness here, a difficult and delicate line that Suvorova treads well.

I'll leave out the nitty-gritty of the story, but the subtitle alone should tell you that this is an interesting one, and often a difficult one. A high four stars; recommended to anyone who is interested in complicated families or who has been thinking about immigration lately.

*Quotes are from an ARC and may not be final.

Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.

Review: "What the Ancestors Say" by Sierra Biidaaban Nadeau

What the Ancestors Say by Sierra Biidaaban Nadeau
Published September 2026 via Broadleaf Books
★★★★

It strikes me as strange that Indian boarding schools are always referred to as schools. The focus of these institutions was hardly ever education. That word was just a fancy bow, designed to hide the fact that the US government was eager to exterminate Indigenous people in any way possible. (loc. 158*)

Nadeau was working on a news story—the remains of hundreds of children who attended one such school had just been found—when she stumbled across the last thing she expected: the names of family members, ones who had attended one of those schools. Nadeau knew about the Indian residential schools, of course (more detail on them in a moment, if you're not familiar); surely there is nobody in her community who does not know about them. But she didn't know how close to home that history came.

I must be missing something, I think. No one in my family has ever spoken of Indian boarding schools. No one has mentioned that entire generations of our family attended one of the largest institutions that operated in Michigan. For decades. (loc. 233)

I've been making an effort to read more from Indigenous authors lately, for a number of reasons but not least because these are voices that (still) too often go unheard. As Nadeau notes (loc. 570), the Indian boarding schools are not really about Native history; rather, they're about the history of colonization and colonizers. And yet they're part of a history that had (has) a devastating and ongoing effect across generations. These schools operated across the US and Canada, and the aim was simple: take Native children away from their culture and instruct them in the ways of the White people; teach them to be maids and cleaners and laborers so as to build a servant class while erasing entire civilizations. Some parents sent their children to these schools voluntarily (or more or less voluntarily), hoping they'd get an education, but authorities also forcibly removed many others. Mortality rates at the schools were shockingly high (I read a report recently that referenced one school, in Canada, that had a mortality rate of 47%), and those children who survived were often not allowed to go home for years at a time.

What Nadeau was able to find out about her own family's history with the residential schools is limited. Most of what she finds is then more general; some stories of individuals who survived these schools or whose family did, but much of this is broader history. I cannot fault her or the book for not including more about her family, because erasing stories was one of the things the boarding schools did well, and anyway, even if they hadn't, nobody should be required to trade on their family's pain. Personal stories do tend to resonate best with me, and because I recently did quite a bit of fact-checking on Indian boarding schools for a work project, much of the general history was familiar to me already. So...didn't learn quite as much as I might have hoped, but I'd very much recommend this to those looking to learn more on the subject.

I think of the homesick ones, the traumatized and terrorized ones, the angry ones, and those who longed to burn it all down. (loc. 1826)

*Quotes are from an ARC and may not be final.

Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.

Review: "From Beijing, with Love" by Bei Lin

From Beijing, with Love by Bei Lin
Published September 2026 via Alcove Press
★★★★

Daniel's trying to push back against his instincts and be spontaneous—except, spontaneity lands him in China at the exact time that his best friend isn't around, and frankly, changes in plans are not really Daniel's forte. Luckily, his friend has booked him a local tour guide...

I do love a travel book, so this felt like an obvious fit. There's a lot going on here: Daniel is way out of his comfort zone in China, and neurodivergence impacts his experience in ways that people around him might not consider. Meanwhile, Yang—a PhD student making some extra cash as a tour guide—is putting everything he has into advancing his career, though he's hampered by the fact that what he's really passionate about does not quite align with his advisor's interests. Add to that that Daniel, a Canadian living in Amsterdam, is used to being out and proud about his sexuality, but Yang does not feel the same freedom (legal is one thing; socially accepted is another). There are a lot of reasons they shouldn't work...and yet.

Altogether, this made for a super solid read. I loved the travel details; Daniel manages to see a fair amount (and eat delicious-sounding food) while working to balance his discomfort with the unknown with his desire to go outside his comfort zone. What I liked best, though, was the way that Yang, upon registering some of the things that make navigating the unknown more difficult for Daniel than for the average traveler, adapts accordingly—figuring out the small things that can make situations a bit easier for Daniel and then treating those small things as a matter-of-fact attitude. (Honestly something that is underrepresented in romance.) I didn't really need the academic mystery in the book, but it ended up being a smaller part of the conflict than I had feared, so it worked out. I want more books like this—where the characters are fundamentally good people who are figuring things out...and where there's a bit of travel to boot.

Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.

Review: Short story: "High Side" by Jaime Oliveira

High Side by Jaime Oliveira
Published September 2026 via Amazon Original Stories

Since his accident, Billy's world has narrowed to a tiny scope: his father's (now his) failing auto-body shop. Then his brother turns up and offers him an out: rob some banks, get some cash, get out and disappear.

This is your classic action short story—most of the characters we're following are realistically the bad guys in the picture (yes, they're aiming not to injure anyone, but they're still, you know, busting into banks while carrying serious firepower.

I think I might have preferred fewer characters. They each had a role, but it was hard to be all that invested in what happened to each one when there was very limited time to get to know them. (And: Especially when some of them are less committed than others to nobody getting injured.) I'm reminded a little of Oceans Eleven, although probably that's because my pop culture references are limited and dated. Interesting to read this after The Spider Silk Scarf, which also asks the reader to sympathize with the person (or here people) committing crimes; in this one I found a bit less sympathy.

Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.

Review: "Izzy, Willy-Nilly" by Cynthia Voigt

Izzy, Willy-Nilly by Cynthia Voigt
Published 1986
★★★★

It's the 80s, probably, and Izzy has it pretty good—smart enough, popular enough, a cheerleader, a happy home life. And then she goes out with a popular older boy, and in a moment her life changes forever.

This was a childhood favourite—for whatever reason, I never got around to reading Voigt's Tillerman Cycle books, but I read and reread Izzy, Willy-Nilly and The Wings of a Falcon (reading this one triggered a reread of that) as a tweenager. Here, Izzy loses her leg in a car crash and has to deal with the fallout: the permanent physical effects, of course, but also the way she understands her place in the world and the way other people interact with her.

This was the 80s, remember: Izzy has very little context for physical disability, and she can't exactly open up TikTok and search for people with similar experiences. It's safe to say that Izzy's life has been very sheltered and that her bubble has been very white and very privileged. She has excellent medical care and excellent familial support, but her friends quite frankly don't know what to do with her now that she falls outside their norm. (Like: a friend calling while Izzy is still in hospital to make sure that Izzy is going to protect the boy who drove drunk...? Hopefully in a modern-day version of the book their friendship would not survive, purely on this basis.)

But on the whole, this stands up to the test of time. There are some extremely 80s attitudes, yes (Izzy's understanding of race is one of them), but there's also a lot of interesting work around privilege and class and friendship and priorities. Needs to be taken within its context, but I'd read this again in a decade or two.

Review: "Someday Perfect" by Kat Schneider

Someday Perfect by Kat Schneider
Published April 2026 via Random House Graphic
★★★★

Meg is off to Bible camp for the summer. She'll be back with her friends, and after a recent switch to public school it's something of a relief to be back around people who share an upbringing. But this year, she's also starting to feel the restrictions of Bible camp in ways that she hasn't before, and starting to notice the differences in how boys and girls are treated. And there's a boy, and she likes him, and she thinks he likes her too—but the rules make it hard to know what to do about it.

This was a very highly anticipated book for me this year. I've read a strange amount about conservative American Christianity for someone who did not grow up with religion, but then, conservative American Christianity feels more and more politically relevant these days. And Someday Perfect feels so terribly on point and aligned with just about everything else I have read on the subject. Meg loves Bible camp...but she isn't so sure that camp is fair. She believes what her parents and teachers and pastors have told her...but she's starting to wonder if there are limits to that belief. She's excited to have a part-time job at camp...but doesn't think it's fair that the girls should pay to wash their own clothes, but that the boys have their clothes washed (also by the girls) for free. And she definitely doesn't think it's right that a skirt that falls just above the knee, and that her parents are presumably okay with, should get her in trouble.

The climax of the book is almost tangential—that is, it's relevant to one of the book's major plotlines, but the biggest difference (Meg starting to question the unquestionables she's grown up with) is subtler. I think this one will punch hardest for those who grew up with conservative religion and have since rethought some things, but it's an excellent book regardless of your background.

Review: "The Hearing Test" by Eliza Barry Callahan

The Hearing Test by Eliza Barry Callahan
Published March 2024 via Catapult
★★★

A young woman in New York—not named until the very last page—wakes up to hearing loss that is both abrupt and progressive. It throws an enormous wrench into her personal and professional life, and she drifts through the next year from appointment to appointment and half-baked connection to half-baked connection.

It's an odd book. Very stream-of-consciousness, which will work for you or won't. I found it helpful that I knew going in that it was stream-of-consciousness, which isn't really my jam but at least set my expectations appropriately. It was fairly quick going, though I had to stay quite focused, as the narrator's train of thought switches tracks very often. There are also lots of literary and other references, though I stopped trusting their accuracy when the narrator mentioned a plane crash and said that the sole survivor's mother (who was also on the flight) was never found; as it happens, I've read about that plane crash, and that's not true.

I know nothing about Callahan other than what's in her bio (and even that I only skimmed), but a few things made me wonder whether there are parts of this story, like that last page, that are her own. Maybe literally nothing more than the bare bones of her bio, and in any case it doesn't really matter, but I suppose I can make a bit more sense of it if there's some element of personal experience here.

Recommended mostly (or only) to those who are in for stream-of-consciousness and general malaise.

Review: "Beyond Limits" by Shelley Sella

Beyond Limits by Shelley Sella
Published June 2025 via Beacon Press
★★★★

Sella was an abortion-care provider for decades, in Kansas and then in New Mexico, though her interest in reproductive health long preceded her specific calling to third-trimester abortion care. In Beyond Limits, she follows six patients—three with fetal indications for abortion, and three with maternal indications—through the paths that led them to her clinic and then through the steps of a third-trimester abortion.

Third-trimester abortions are rare, but the situations that drive women to seek them are not. What really differentiates third-trimester patients from those in the first and second trimesters is the degree of desperation they feel. (loc. 158)

I'll keep this short: This book will not change the minds of people who believe that third-trimester abortion (or abortion in general) is never acceptable; Sella herself nods to this in the book. What it can do, though, is speak to people who simply want to know more, and to those who have ever wondered why someone wouldn't just get an abortion earlier, or go the adoption route, and so on. Sella does discuss these things, directly and in detail, but also:

There are better questions to ask instead of why did she wait so long? And the answers to these questions should inspire compassion rather than judgment. What were the barriers to abortion care the patient faced when confronting an unwanted pregnancy? What were the life circumstances that compelled her to seek an abortion in the third trimester? (loc. 2390)

Wholly recommend to anyone looking to learn more.

Review: "Abider" by Melissa Crowe

Abider by Melissa Crowe
Published September 2026 via University of Pittsburgh Press
★★★★

But this morning / in the wet grass I saw rotting / windfall pears clustered with bees / who, vibrating, seemed both / ravenous and surprised by their luck. (87*)

Meditative and lush, full of wanting and requited and unrequited yearning, people who fit just right at exactly the wrong time and those who used to fit and no longer do.

I like having to work for poetry (me with my prose-laden, non-poet brain), and work for this collection I did. I read this slowly, a poem here, a few poems there, to allow each page time to percolate. Lots of layers here, lessons learned and unlearned, a balance of learning where the writer belongs and knowing that there are so many possibilities, but they can't all be true at once.

I'm not so wild anymore. / Even untutored, I learned how a woman's / meant to temper her hungers, cross her legs // and shut her mouth. But I taught myself to feel / good. Can't unlearn. (18)

Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.

*Quotes are from an ARC and may not be final.

Review: "Damned if She Does" by Sarah Stankorb

Damned if She Does by Sarah Stankorb
Published September 2026 via Broadleaf Books
★★★★

In Disobedient Women, Stankorb zeroed in on women who forced a church reckoning. Now, in Damned if She Does, she steps back to look at women who, on the whole, concluded that they couldn't make the change that they wanted to—and so they cut their losses and left.

This is a book about women and the church. But it's also a book about where people start to draw a line within a community to which they once were willing to give their time and money and entrust their children. (loc. 125*)

I've found religion fascinating for a good long time, though what interests me is generally less the specifics of a person or community's beliefs and more how they interact with those beliefs. This sort of thing has been incredibly topical of late, as certain strands of religion get wound ever more tightly around the neck of American politics, and in many ways that's exactly what this book boils down to: What happens when people take a good hard look and ask themselves how much of what they've been taught to believe is about belief and how much of it is about power.

Stankorb handily ties together personal stories with broader looks at history and context—why women, in particular, are leaving churches; why men are staying. (Short answer: power. Slightly longer answer: Power structures within churches are typically set up to reward men, not women, who are involved.) What "leaving" means varies, of course, and what this will look like in the long term (how many will leave, and how many will stay, and what trajectories those groups will take) remains to be seen—but in the context of the US right now, it's pretty on point.

Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.

*Quotes are from an ARC and may not be final.