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 in Audiobook
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.
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.
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.
The History of Sound: Stories – Ben Shattuck
Ben Shattuck has easily delivered a contender for my favorite read of 2024 by weaving together 12 richly drawn, interconnected narratives that span centuries. Masterfully blending elements of historical and contemporary fiction, romance and Americana, there is a little something for everyone in this Northeast-set collection.
Beautyland – Marie-Helene Bertino
My enjoyment of the novel fully hinged on Adina being a true alien. When Bertino made me question this fact, everything that preceded the reveal felt tawdry. While others seem to enjoy this, it ruined an already mediocre story for me.
Four Squares – Bobby Finger
Bobby Finger did the near impossible. He somehow merged contemporary and historical fiction, paired it with a dash of literary depth, and wrapped it in a cozy sheen perfect for a lazy day on the beach. Yes, dear readers, he somehow made reading about sustained, collective trauma heart-warming. Color me surprised!
Ducks, Newburyport – Lucy Ellmann
Expectation: A unique journey into the mind of a Midwest housewife and baker.
Reality: A 1,000+ page run on sentence with no plot, or seemingly, purpose outside of threading random topics together.
Find Me – André Aciman
Expectation: Alternating narratives of Elio and Oliver as they make the slow march back into each other’s lives.
Reality: Like four distinct mini-novellas, each offers a slice-of-life look into the motivations and relationships of the men from “Call Me By Your Name.” If you are patient enough for the journey, it pays off.
Call Me By Your Name – André Aciman
Expectation: A slow-burn coming-of-age story about forbidden love.
Reality: A beautiful, sensual and deep exploration of desire and connection. While closely aligned to the film adaptation, the source material is worth the read.
How We Fight For Our Lives – Saeed Jones
I had put off reading Saeed Jones' "How We Fight For Our Lives" for years, expecting a depressing, harrowing manifesto about the multitude of ways America fails Black men. Let this be a lesson in not judging a book by its cover, because Jones instead offers readers a sometimes funny and relatable exploration of growing up gay.