All in Audiobook

Godwin – Joseph O’Neill

Split between two narrators – Mark Wolfe, a self-absorbed technical writer from Pittsburgh, and Lakesha Williams, his diligent and thoughtful work colleague – the story kicks off with a mundane office conflict that feels disconnected from the rest of the novel's ostensible focus: the search for Godwin, a young African soccer prodigy. This odd opening sets the tone for a book that reads like two distinct narratives clumsily stitched together.

Small Rain – Garth Greenwell

Garth Greenwell’s “Small Rain” explores the isolation and unraveling of self that so many of us endured during the first COVID-19 summer.  His unnamed protagonist experiences this in a way that’s magnified tenfold, as he is confined to a hospital room with a potentially fatal diagnosis: an aortic dissection. The fact he survived such low odds and remains coherent adds an underlying tension to every encounter. He is suspended in a liminal state, living on what feels like borrowed time.

Don’t Forget the Girl – Rebecca McKanna

At first glance, Rebecca McKanna’s “Don’t Forget the Girl” may seem like another mystery thriller critiquing true crime culture – and to an extent, it is – but it stands out with its sharp edges and an unexpectedly poignant queer love story. This adds depth, transforming what could have been a straightforward thriller into something more personal and thought-provoking.

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.

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.

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.