Everything you need to know about “Long Island Compromise” is in the title. It is essentially a 500-page exploration of the ways in which people can be screwed over by each other, a job and the relentless pursuit of money.
Beneath the Bonfire – Nickolas Butler
While the author primarily focuses on the experiences of straight white men, his narratives transcend the typical masculine tropes. With raw emotional honesty, he taps into the inner workings of the male psyche, examining the impact of toxic masculinity, friendship, fatherhood, trauma, loss, identity and nature on the common man.
Never Whistle at Night: An Indigenous Dark Fiction Anthology – Shane Hawk and Theodore C. Van Alst Jr.
With 26 stories in the collection, it's unsurprising that not all of them resonated. I enjoyed about half, while others felt flat, somewhat confusing or a bit derivative of stronger stories in the mix. Still, this anthology serves as an excellent entry point to the world of Indigenous writers who are making waves in literature right now.
I Was a Teenage Slasher – Stephen Graham Jones
Ultimately, “Slasher” is an intriguing experiment into metahorror and a homage to 80s slashers (mostly Jason Voorhees) that narrowly misses its mark. If you’re looking for something punchy, gory and unapologetic, I’d suggest Chuck Tingle’s “Bury Your Gays” instead.
Cursed Bunny – Bora Chung
Overall, “Cursed Bunny” is a creative, yet uneven collection. While some stories are haunting and memorable, others feel stretched or underdeveloped. Fans of unconventional horror might find it worth the read, but for me, it was hit or miss.
All the Colors of the Dark – Chris Whitaker
“All the Colors of the Dark” is a sprawling novel that tries to do too much and ends up delivering very little. At best, it's aggressively mediocre, and at worst, it's a contrived and overly familiar story built on tropes.
Devil House – John Darnielle
Ultimately, “Devil House” is less about the crime itself and more about the ethical considerations of how we consume and produce true crime stories. Darnielle asks readers to reconsider the humanity of those at the heart of these crimes – individuals who had lives, families and dreams, but are reduced to sensational headlines or footnotes in someone else’s story.
IT – Stephen King
Despite its length, “IT” stands as one of Stephen King’s most unsettling and complex works, effectively weaving psychological and supernatural horror with real-world brutality. Although King has made a career out of exploring dark and unhinged themes, “IT” pushes those boundaries.
Craven Manor – Darcy Coates
The first half of the book had genuinely good moments, and I'll give the author credit for including a cursed black cat—one of the few charming touches. By the end, however, the story lost all coherence, and I was skimming the last few chapters. All-in-all, “Craven Manor” is simply a gothic misadventure.
My Friend Dahmer – Derf Backderf
While the graphic novel was initially intriguing, it felt a bit lacking in depth, particularly considering its length. I also began to question the necessity of Backderf telling this story. He was only a passing acquaintance of Dahmer, so the armchair psychology and hindsight observations felt a tad inflated.
Stoner – John Williams
Named “the greatest American novel you’ve never heard of” by The New Yorker, John Williams’ “Stoner'' certainly earns that distinction with a simple, beautifully woven story about a Midwestern English professor living a remarkably unremarkable life.
Blackouts – Justin Torres
Justin Torres’ “Blackouts” is a stylistic exercise that feels more concerned with its own cleverness than with engaging its readers. The novel's experimental structure, essentially a mixed media piece of art that blends past and present, is undeniably ambitious, but it frequently veers into pretentiousness masked as creativity.
Blindness – José Saramago
José Saramago's “Blindness” is a harrowing exploration of humanity stripped bare. The novel’s premise—a sudden, inexplicable wave of blindness—is a chilling backdrop for a descent into a Hobbesian world of survival and savagery.
I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings – Maya Angelou
This is a classic for a reason. Nothing I say about this novel will diminish its relevance, but I must be honest with myself and others when I say that I didn’t really enjoy it.
How to Write an Autobiographical Novel – Alexander Chee
Alexander Chee’s essay collection is first and foremost a showcase of his nearly unmatched talent. It's a celebration of the craft, of teaching and of the relentless pursuit of one’s artistic vision. Yet, for all its brilliance, the book is dreadfully boring.
Real Americans – Rachel Khong
Exploring the complexities of family, identity and the American Dream – plus the ethics of genome editing for good measure – it's the type of novel that could easily veer into literary excess but Khong showed a remarkable knack for balancing heavy ideas with beach read sensibilities.
The Wedding People – Alison Espach
There’s only so many ways a “person hellbent on dying finds a reason to live again” plot can feel fresh. For the first quarter of the novel it felt very familiar (I couldn’t help but think of Matt Haig’s “The Midnight Library”), but Espach quickly drew me into the lives of Lila and Phoebe, two women navigating a week of unexpected soul-searching.
Severance – Ling Ma
The alternating timelines – one focused on a small group of Shen Fever refugees, and the other Candace’s experiences as the daughter of Chinese immigrants – allow Ma the runway to take her core themes in interesting directions, but it felt like the merging of two novels into one versus a cohesive narrative.
Fight Club – Chuck Palahniuk
Chuck Palahniuk's “Fight Club” has gained cult status for its literary transgression and societal critique, but the novel is nothing more than a sophomoric and misogynistic rant. It’s the type of book that someone reads in their twenties and finds edgy and dangerous, but that’s simply because it is effective at appealing to those with an underdeveloped world view.
Bury Your Gays – Chuck Tingle
While not aiming for highbrow literature, it offers a perfect mixture of astute social commentary, a dash of camp and a fair amount of meta grievances. We may not know the true identity of Chuck Tingle, but it’s fair to say that like R.F. Kuang and “Yellowface,” he has a proverbial axe to grind with the entertainment machine.