Does listening to audiobooks count as reading? Here it does. Let’s discuss your favorite reads — or listens.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
An interesting retrospective on how sitcoms helped pave the way for broader queer acceptance, with “Hi Honey, I’m Homo!” Matt Baume offers a mostly lighthearted read for fans of pop culture and LGBTQIA+ history.
Through original and sourced research, the author traced the often fraught path to introduce positive portrayals of queer people to the masses, but this isn’t the kind of behind-the-scenes tell-all that will help elevate the book beyond its niche target audiences.
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.
"This House is Haunted" channels the spirit of a Victorian gothic novel with John Boyne capturing the genre's signature atmosphere and whispered gossip about dastardly deeds at a remote English estate. This unique blend of classic setting and contemporary heroine is the novel's greatest strength in what is otherwise a passably but mostly mediocre affair.
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.
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!
“No Road Home” is a good read, but it’s not groundbreaking. Fans of religious-themed horror and dastardly families (think “Ready or Not”) will appreciate this more than most. Readers picking this up hoping for a queer-focused story, like “The Bright Lands,” may be let down. Shortcomings aside, I’d still give Fram another shot.
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.
