This book will make you cry. A lot. As in, you had better have a tissue in hand when reading it.

While it is emotionally draining, this is such a vitally important book that I think everyone should read it. If you were alive on 9/11, you should read it. If you have children or grandchildren who were born after 9/11, you should buy a copy now for them to read when they are older.

This is the best kind of history lesson because it is so personal. Author Garrett M. Graff has captured that horrific day in its entirety through personal quotes—an oral history—from nearly 500 people who experienced the horrific events of 9/11 first-hand. The mesmerizing, poignant and so very, very personal result is an almost minute-by-minute account of what happened in New York City, Washington, D.C., Shanksville, Pennsylvania, in the White House's underground bunker, and aboard Air Force One. More than anything, this is a book about what it was like to live through September 11, 2001—beginning with surprise and confusion and ending with grief and resilience.

Not only are there quotes from our nation's leaders, including Vice President Dick Cheney, First Lady Laura Bush, National Security Advisor Condoleezza Rice, Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld, and New York City Mayor Rudy Giuliani, but also from those who worked in the World Trade Center and the Pentagon, their families, and the first responders who so bravely and heroically walked into danger. Transcripts of phone conversations and voice mails from passengers on Flight 93 are raw, emotionally-brutal, and so revealing of the power of human spirit in the time of ultimate despair.

When the story of 9/11 is told like it is here, it becomes something greater than the individual parts: It is the story of all the unsung heroes. It is the story of ordinary people who did extraordinary deeds to try to save a human life—and in so doing, save our country.

It is the story of what it means to be an American. Let us always remember.

I think this book is brilliant! It is a chilling ghost story for literary types, complete with a cameo by Charles Dickens.

Written in the Dickensian style by the inimitable John Boyne, this gothic tale opens on a cold and rainy night in London in October 1867 when Eliza Caine, age 21, and her father troop through the misty, fog-shrouded streets to hear a popular writer named Charles Dickens read one of his ghost stories to the gathered audience. The miserable autumn weather proves too much for Mr. Caine who soon dies, forcing Eliza to find employment and housing elsewhere. She moves to Norfolk where she will serve as a governess in Gaudlin Hall, one of the large English homes. Ah, but all is not as it seems—or should be. Eliza quickly realizes a malicious force is pursuing her, and when she finds out the fate of the previous five governesses who have served the family in the past year, she knows she is not imagining things. But WHY? Why is this evil happening? And will Eliza succumb to the same fate as so many of the other governesses?

Because the book is written in the style of a 19th century novel, it is by definition more slow-paced than modern day novels. Some might even call it plodding. But that's the whole point! The plot slowly unfolds as Eliza Caine gradually figures out what is going on in this house and why everyone who encounters her is so spooked by it—and by extension her.

Bonus: The ending — as in, the last word of the book — is pure genius. It's all goosebumps and shivers!

Author Anita Shreve is such a surprise! While none of her books — other than the "Fortune's Rocks" series — can be said to be similar to the others, this one is a true outlier. And while it took me a good while to get into the story, once I did, I was mesmerized by it.

Quite creatively written much in the language of a 19th century novel, this is the story of a marriage told as a retrospective in the first person from the husband's point of view. And that, by definition, means it is only half the story. Still, there are enough hints, clues, and revelations for the reader to discern how the wife feels—and it's nothing like her husband. It's 1899, and college professor Nicholas Van Tassel falls in love at first sight with Etna Bliss as he helps rescue her and her aunt from a hotel restaurant fire in the small New England town where they live. He is passionately besotted with her; she's obliviously indifferent. After making a startling bargain, they do marry, and bit by bit her secrets are revealed until he discovers secrets about both her past and present that he absolutely cannot abide. What Nicholas does to keep his wife is so shocking and so unsettling that the reverberations are felt for decades to come.

This is a deeply disturbing psychological study about the intense and overwhelming feelings of marital possession and the proximity to violence such possession—especially when it turns to obsession—engenders. It is also a poignant study of what it meant to be a married woman 100 years ago—and for some women even in today's world—and what one must necessarily surrender at the marriage altar in exchange for economic security.

This is a haunting, powerful story that will stay with me for some time.

Oh, this is a sneaky book. As in, it starts out just fine — OK, but not fabulous — and then bit by bit it sneaks its way into your heart and soul. And then when you're going about the business of life, you'll find yourself thinking, "When can I stop what I'm doing and read again?"

This masterpiece by Barbara Kingsolver takes us deep into the jungle of the Congo beginning in 1959 when Southern Baptist preacher Nathan Price embarks on a risky missionary post in small village located on a smelly, crocodile-infested river on the edge of a lush, snake-infested jungle. He brings with him his Bible, his arrogant, holier-than-thou approach to saving souls, and his reluctant family: his obedient, meek wife Orleanna and teenage daughters Rachel, Leah, and Adah along with five-year-old Ruth May. To say they are wholly unprepared for such a primitive lifestyle is an understatement. Assimilating—from learning to cook on a wood stove to having to haul water for a mile—is a Herculean adjustment. Great tragedy strikes, and the lives of all six of the Prices radically change forever.

The book is divided into seven sections. Except for the last section, the first part of each is written by Orleanna looking back on their time in the Congo. Each of the other chapters is written in the first person by one of the four daughters. One of the things that makes this book such an imaginative work of genius is the distinct voice Kingsolver gives each of the girls. Once you get into the book, you will know just by reading the first paragraph of a chapter who has written it without even looking at the chapter heading. And each of girls' perspectives of the same life they are living is absolutely riveting—sometimes heartbreaking, sometimes hilarious, and always poignant.

This is an intelligent, multilayered novel with vividly drawn characters that are so real they pop off the page. The detailed descriptions of the Congo are so remarkably realistic that I felt as if I were transported there along with the Price family. And the plot is riveting—not a page-turner as such, but I was fully engaged in it—as it zeroes in on the complex moral question that is the backbone of the book: Do white people — no matter how well meaning — have any right at all to invade a culture and attempt to change it? And what are the long-term ramifications of such audacity?

Oh, this book! Reading it was the literary equivalent of being swept off my feet!

Masterfully written by Abraham Verghese, this is the story of identical, conjoined twins Marion and Shiva, born in Ethiopia of a disgraced Roman Catholic nun from India and a talented, but socially inept white surgeon. Taking place in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia and New York City, this is an extraordinary saga of love, hate, brotherhood, ambition, the ingenuity of the science of medicine, violent political upheaval, and what it truly means to be a family.

The novel's strength is twofold: the superb storytelling and the vividly-rendered characters. It will fill your heart and then break it and then fill it again, proving this is a nearly perfect book.

Major Character Without a Name: Medicine/Surgery. Verghese is a medical doctor by profession, and his extensive knowledge of both medicine and surgery (routine and trauma) is on display throughout the book with detailed descriptions that I found it utterly fascinating. You will learn more about the human liver than you ever thought you would know in your lifetime. And it's not gratuitous. In fact, it adds enormously to the drama of the plot and the development of the characters.

Minor Character Without a Name: Food. Do not read this book when you are hungry. The descriptions of Ethiopian cuisine are mouthwatering—from injera, a sourdough-risen flatbread with a slightly spongy texture that is considered the national dish of Ethiopia and Eritrea, to wot, a stew or curry prepared with chicken, beef, or lamb, as well as a variety of vegetables and spices. (I looked online for a recipe for wot and found out it takes four days, 11 hours, and 35 minutes to make. Now I'm Googling the location of the nearest Ethiopian restaurant.)

This is one of those imaginative, monumental books that will appeal to almost everyone. I just know that years from now I will still be recommending it friends. If you're looking for a captivating read, choose this one. Now.

This is a novel that feels like a biography…that is, if biographies were written in the first person. This is a novel that also feels like a history book…that is, if history books were written in the first person.

Written by Paula McClain, this is a novel about Martha Gellhorn, Ernest Hemingway's third wife. (He had four.) After meeting in a truly serendipitous way, the two finagled it so they worked together as war correspondents during the Spanish Civil War in the late 1930s. Marty was fiercely independent, and as much as she loved Ernest, being a wife chafed against her wanderlust, autonomous soul. It wasn't easy being married to such a big and famous man for someone who wanted to be just as big and just as famous herself. When "For Whom the Bell Tolls" was published, Marty knew they were no longer a marriage of equals. Ernest would always be bigger and better—and that was a big shadow shading her every move.

This is a slow-moving story that focuses more on character development and historical narration—so much so that the plot seems like an afterthought. McClain makes every attempt to truly expose Marty's innermost thoughts and feelings, and the result is mixed: At times it is brilliant and convincing, except when it's forced and artificial. It's important to say that parts of this book are absolutely, totally engrossing, but there are more parts that are…well, quite boring.

There is one question book lovers enjoy asking each other: When you're reading a book you don't particularly like, do you stop or keep going? I ALWAYS keep going for one reason. What if it gets really good and I missed it because I stopped reading? That perfectly describes this book. The last quarter of it is astounding and totally worth plowing through the rest of it to get there.

It's not that this is a bad book; it's actually quite good. But it could be so much better!

Written by "The Girl on the Train" author Paula Hawkins, this is part psychological thriller and part who-done-it, and it's one of those books you won't be able to put down once you start reading it.

Taking place in Beckford, a small river town in England, the story focuses on Katie, a 15-year-old girl, and Nel, a middle-age woman and mother, who recently committed suicide by jumping off a cliff into the raging waters of the river below—the river that snakes through their town and has been the site of multiple deaths of troublesome women over the centuries. But did Katie and Nel really jump? Or were they pushed? And in either case: WHY?

Each chapter is written from the point of view of one of the 10 main characters, which makes it a bit confounding in the beginning of the book simply because there are so many people to keep track of. (The Kindle X-ray feature is quite useful for remembering who is who.) That said, it really doesn't take that long to become familiar with this large cast, and then the book just soars.

This literary thriller is both scary and intriguing. While the book gave me the shivers, it was also a mind-challenge to try to figure out the mystery. Even the very last page gave me a jolt—so no peeking!

The best way to describe this remarkable book by Colson Whitehead is: gripping and intense. The plot is so gripping that it will keep you turning the pages long past your bedtime, and it's so intense that if you do dare read it before sleeping, the vivid descriptions of what was routinely done to runaway slaves will haunt your nightmares.

There is a reason this book won both the 2017 Pulitzer Prize and the 2016 National Book Award.

This is an imaginative retelling of the underground railroad in which there really is a railroad—tracks, a locomotive, passenger car, and an engineer. But this isn't an express from Mississippi to Massachusetts. It is built deep underground in fits and starts so slaves who are lucky enough to board still must be daring enough to travel over land as well. This is the story of Caesar, Cora, and Lovey, who escape from the Georgia cotton plantation on which they are enslaved. Their story is utterly engrossing, albeit brutal, viciously cruel, and at times inhuman. And even though the real underground railroad had no actual train tracks as it does in this novel, this is a heartbreakingly authentic depiction of what it meant to seek freedom—both for the courageous slaves who ran and the equally courageous white abolitionists who aided them.

This is one of those rare books that will live inside me forever. It is impossible to read it and not be profoundly moved.

The plot of this book will break your heart, but the writing will make your soul sing.

Masterfully written by Toni Morrison, this is a book that is destined to be a classic and still avidly read generations from now. While it is the story of a runaway slave named Sethe, it is even more a story of slavery, the meaning of freedom, and the deep, dark psychological scars that never disappear even after a slave is free.

Sethe's life on the Sweet Home plantation in Kentucky is not as horrific as it would have been other places—that is, until a new master arrives and cruelty then reigns. Sethe has three very young children and is pregnant with her fourth when there is an opportunity to escape. How this escape happens—and all that ensued before and after the escape—scars Sethe's soul forever. Just weeks after she escapes to Ohio, the master finds her and her children, and what Sethe does then is horrific, tragic, and almost beyond belief. And then a seeming miracle occurs. Or has it?

With bold imagery, raw depictions of slavery, and prose that is so beautiful it becomes poetic, this is a book to be cherished and reread. Emotionally it is a grim book to read, but one that is vitally important.

Advice: Read this book slowly. Do not rush through it for two reasons: First, the story is so violent, so cruel, so harsh, and so painful that I found it impossible to read it for very long. Second, the writing is so beautiful that you will want to savor it—not speed read past all that splendor.

When libraries burn, it is more than a building and its contents that are aflame. It is our ideas, our beliefs, our culture, our history, and even our very humanity that is also caught up in the inferno. The largest library fire in the United States occurred on April 29, 1986 when the Central Library of Los Angeles was purposely set on fire. It burned for about seven hours and damaged or destroyed more than one million books. The real losses could never really be measured in dollars and cents, since so many priceless and irreplaceable documents were incinerated.

With exhaustive research and superb description, Susan Orlean has masterfully told the story of that fire and the man whom fire authorities and arson investigators accused of setting it ablaze, but this book is so much more. It's also a tribute to all libraries and librarians, the places and people who offer free information, free books, free DVDs, free magazines, free everything—all for the price of a (free) library card. I have no doubt this book will inspire a new generation to go to library school!

Who would set a library on fire? And why? And how? And how does a library, a nonprofit institution with insurance that only covers the building and not the contents of that building, ever recover? These are the questions that Orlean answers in a way that is compelling, gripping, and absolutely fascinating. Few nonfiction books are so readable as this one.

Bonus No.1: Each chapter begins with a listing of four books that is relevant to that chapter's content. It's kind of fun to figure out what's going to happen next by reading the titles of those books, some of which are so seemingly disparate it's kind of tricky to discern the connection.

Bonus No. 2: The cover is brilliantly creative, but you have to look at it closely to fully appreciate it.

Oh, this book! This book! This is one of those rare books that I not only enjoyed from the first sentence to the last, but also it touched my heart and soul in a way I always hope will happen with each book I read but only rarely does.

Magnificently written by Ann Patchett, this is the story of the Conroy siblings, Maeve and Danny. Told in the first person by Danny over a five-decade span, it begins with a recounting of their extraordinary childhood, growing up in what was known as "the Dutch house," a mansion—with a ballroom on the third floor and a dining room ceiling decorated in gold leaf—in the suburbs of Philadelphia. But all too soon, this magical world was destroyed for the children by the parents who were supposed to be loving them and taking care of them. First abandoned by their mother, ignored by their father, and later cast out on to the street by their stepmother, Maeve and Danny only have each other. She fiercely protects Danny. He idolizes Maeve. But when the unimaginable actually happens, their loving sibling relationship is tested to the core.

This is an astute psychological study of what it means to be a family and how those relationships—no matter how damaged they may be—ultimately determine who we are as adults. And it is only by forgiving, even when everything about it seems unforgiveable, that we find real happiness and contentment in life.

The writing is bold and forthright, but when needed it's perfectly subtle and nuanced. The story is definitely one that is character-driven so the plot plays second fiddle, but even so the "what happens next" part is absolutely captivating.

Bonus: Maeve Conroy is a type 1 diabetic, as are my son and grandson. I am forever grateful to Ann Patchett for her intelligent and perceptive descriptions of what it means to live with this dreadful disease.

This is a 10-star book in a five-star world. Read it. Savor it. It's a very special book.

Great literature this is not. But great history it is.

This is a first-rate lesson in history—from 1933 to 1949 with most of the emphasis on World War II—told with real facts and imaginary characters in a plot-driven novel that will place you, the reader, on the ground in Nazi Germany, war-torn, bombed-out England, coal-mining country in Wales, frozen Russia, and in the balmy waters around Pearl Harbor on a fateful December Sunday morning. And while the dialogue is often unrealistic, and the writing a bit forced, the history lesson is riveting and one that we must never, ever forget.

Before British author Ken Follett shocked his publisher and surprised his reading public by writing engrossing, bestselling sagas about the building of medieval cathedrals, he paid his bills by penning World War II spy thrillers. So Follett is in his element in this book, the second in a trilogy about the 20th century that is officially called the Century Trilogy. (And, yes, you really should read them in order to better appreciate the characters.)

The book follows five primary families, with many supporting characters, who live in the hot zones of Germany, England, Russia, Wales, and the United States. And while there are plenty of bloody battle scenes and horrific details of Nazi behavior, the story is tempered with lots of love and sex.

Oh, this book is such a dichotomy! Much of it is absolutely wonderful, if not inspired, but just enough of it is an eye-rolling, soap opera that these melodramatic moments distract from what could have been such a powerful novel.

It's 1950. The United States won a war, the men are home, and all is well. Almost. There are spies among us, and Sen. Joseph McCarthy is going to root out this communist evil, no matter what tactics he has to take. One of his targets is the entertainment industry. Aspiring actresses Hazel Ripley and Maxine Mead met in 1945 on a USO tour in Naples, Italy. Five years later, their paths cross again in New York City. Hazel has written a play, and Maxine tricks her way into being cast for the lead role. They live in the Chelsea, a hotel whose rooms are rented more like apartments to artists of all types. Hazel is identified as a communist, and she tries to do what few did then: fight back. But her actions cost her in a big and lasting way. Meanwhile, leading lady Maxine is guarding dark and terrible secrets of her own. Their lives, so closely intertwined, are on a collision course fueled by suspicion, espionage, and hate.

Unfortunately, the writing is uneven, and some of the events—especially the opening action in Naples that brings Hazel and Maxine together—are just not believable. Still, the underlying message of this book—histrionic soap opera moments aside—rings true not only as history, but also as a warning for us today. Freedom of speech and assembly are cherished liberties we Americans must always protect.

Bonus: While Hazel and Maxine are fictional, the bohemian Chelsea Hotel is very real, and like author Fiona Davis did in "The Address" with the Dakota, she does again in this book, taking an iconic New York City building and making it come alive in a way that gives it its own pulse and heartbeat.

This is one of those rare novels that has all the components of great literature as well as a gripping, page-turning plot. Irish author John Boyne, who is one of my favorite writers of all time, has penned an extraordinary story filled with twists and turns that will keep you up well past your bedtime if you're not careful.

It's 1936 in London, and while most of the world is reeling from an economic depression, the British aristocracy is doing quite well, thank you. Handsome and enigmatic Owen Montignac is 25 years old and has just suffered a monstrous disappointment: He fully expected to inherit his uncle's estate—money, house, land, everything—but he was left with nothing. And that's a problem because Owen has racked up a gambling debt of 50,000 pounds. How he resolves this is the bulk of the plot and includes such escapades as art theft, murder, unlikely conspiracies, and even a plot against King Edward VIII and his American paramour, the twice-divorced and oh-so scandalous Wallis Simpson. Bonus: The ending gave me the shivers.

While the intricate, multifaceted plot truly is so compelling it's hard to stop reading and attend to your real life, this book shines because it is also a literary delight. The characters are fully developed—so real that they almost pop off the page. The story has something bold to say about life and love, ethics and morals, right and wrong, good and evil. It's a book that made me think—far beyond wondering what would happen next.

John Boyne is a genius writer. Read and enjoy!

This is not your typical Anne Tyler book—until suddenly, it is.

Anne Tyler has a rare gift among writers in that she can perfectly capture the minutiae of life, providing a close-up look at those tiny details that add up to something very important. In addition, she creates the quirkiest characters ever, but all of whom are unerringly believable.

The style of this book is different than the many others she has written in that the first third of it doesn't have that definitive Anne Tyler signature of quirky characters. When the book opens in 1967, we meet Willa Drake, an 11-year-old dealing with the sudden disappearance and then reappearance of her tempestuous, moody mother. Just as you're getting into that story, the chapter ends and we move to 1977 when Willa is a junior in college and contemplating an offer of marriage. Then wham! It's 1997, and Willa is a widow with two teenage sons. Then—finally—it's 2007, and Willa, now living in Tucson, Arizona with her second husband, receives a bizarre phone call to come to Baltimore, Maryland to care for a child of her son's former lover, who is hospitalized after someone shot her in the leg. And the Anne Tyler we know and love truly kicks in at this point as we meet the quirky neighbors and dive head first into the quirky life on Dorcas Road.

This book is a sheer delight to read. Like all Anne Tyler novels, this is a character-driven story where the plot is secondary. And those characters are all colorful, genuine, and memorable. It is an endearing and enthralling tale about human relationships—the families we have by birth and the families we create to fill our hearts with love.

This is a hard book to read. Let me amend that a bit. It is an engrossing, gripping, and frightening book to read. It is hard to read not because it is difficult to understand or written in a mind-boggling way; it is hard to read because it is heartbreaking. It is also one of those books that could actually change—or just slightly shift—the way you think about those who don't have enough.

Author Stephanie Land grew up in Washington state and Alaska in a family that did have enough—but barely. She started working at a young age, first babysitting and later in cafes and bars. She was making ambitious plans to go to college when she realized she was pregnant. Sadly, the father was a summer fling, who was angry Stephanie wouldn't have an abortion. Her story is one that is all too familiar. By quilting together a haphazard, convoluted, and sometimes unreliable patchwork of food stamps, WIC coupons, housing vouchers, and minimum-wage jobs, she and her daughter, Mia, managed. Barely. The primary job she held was that of a "maid." We're not talking a fancy apron in a fancy house. We're talking the cleaning woman. One or two houses a day—if she was lucky. She earned an hourly wage, and there was no sick time, vacation time, or health care. If she didn't work, she didn't get paid. And it only took one catastrophe to make her fragile house of cards come tumbling down.

It's impossible to read this extraordinarily well-written book and not feel compassion for Stephanie and all the single mothers like her who struggle every day just to get by. It's called survival, and most of us reading this book will (thankfully) never experience just how scary and degrading it is to live like this. But readers who immerse themselves in Stephanie Land's story will, I have no doubt, come away thinking differently. And that, to my way of thinking, is the true power of books.

Bonus: Go along with Stephanie into a myriad of homes and peek into some very personal and surprising details of their lives. Yes, if you're fortunate enough to employ someone to clean your house, she is most likely snooping on you!

Even though this book is most definitely not science fiction, the only way to truly appreciate it is to suspend your belief in reality. Be prepared to enter a dreamlike world and just go with it. That said, this literary time-travel novel by Pulitzer Prize-winning author Andrew Sean Greer is boldly imaginative while also serving up generous helpings of pithy life advice.

It's 1985 in New York City, and Greta Wells is having a difficult time. Nathan, her boyfriend of 10 years, has just left her for another woman, and her much-loved twin brother, Felix, has died of AIDS. Not surprisingly, Greta succumbs to depression. When antidepressants have no effect on the raging darkness shrouding her soul, she undergoes electroshock therapy. It has a bizarre side effect: Greta wakes up in 1918 where she is still Greta, living in the same house, and the same people she loves in 1985 are part of her life. Felix is alive! But just as in 1985, she has mental issues that require electroshock therapy. And that sends her to 1941. The book becomes a triptych of the three time periods with Greta living a life in each that is distinctly different, yet weirdly similar. Then it gets even more complicated. Greta is undergoing electroshock therapy in 1918, 1941, and 1985, and all three Gretas are time travelling. So while "our" Greta (circa 1985) is in 1918, the 1918 Greta is in 1941, and the 1941 Greta is in 1985—and they are ever-so-slightly changing each other's lives. (Did you follow this?)

The plot may be convoluted, but the lesson of the book is simple: No matter when we live, we experience both the wonderful and the hurtful. Life is never perfect, but it is what we make of it given what we have. But most of all, it is a magical love story—love in all its incarnations.

Bonus: The ending is perfect.

Greer has such an exceptional eye for detail—from fashion to food and culture to current events—that his writing makes each of the three years come to life in a way that is easy for the reader to envision. And while the plot is outrageously farfetched and absolutely implausible, the story works as long as the readers do their part: suspend belief and just become part of it. Hey, even the author knows it. Just look at the title!

This is a quick-to-read, fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants thriller by Jeanine Cummins that tracks in often gruesome detail the path of a mother and son as they migrate from Mexico to the United States to escape a brutal drug cartel that wants them both dead. While most thrillers are sheer fiction, this one is not. Oh sure, the characters are fictional, but this is no fantasy. It is all too real, and as a good novel will do, it powerfully depicts what is happening over and over and over again every day in Mexico and on the border of the United States. This is fiction doubling as current events.

Lydia and Sebastian lead a charmed and somewhat affluent life in beautiful Acapulco. He is a top journalist, she owns a successful bookstore, and together they have a precocious 8-year-old boy, Luca. But when Sebastian publishes an exposé on the kingpin of the local drug cartel, he and 15 members of his family are brutally executed in Lydia's mother's backyard during a quinceañera celebration. Lydia and Luca miraculously escape, and now they must flee because this cartel is still out for revenge—and will stop at nothing. This book is the story of their trek to the United States, and the suspense and action never let up. (Advice: Don't read this before you go to sleep. It will haunt your dreams—and not in a good way.)

While this is not great literature—it's a straight-up thriller and nothing more—it does waken the typical American reader to better understand the dangerous and terrifying plight of many Mexican migrants, and for this I applaud Jeanine Cummins.

About the bruhaha over "American Dirt": I have read a lot about the objections some Latinos have to a white woman writing this story—one who now lives in New York City and grew up in the Maryland suburbs of Washington, D.C. Yes, not many authors—of any ethnic descent—will get the star publishing treatment Cummins has received. And I do appreciate that inequity. Still, Cummins did extensive, years' long research for this book to make her characters and plot as authentic as possible. Many (many!) novelists write outside their lifestyle, and that is perfectly acceptable provided the research is done. To say that only a Latino/Latina can write a book like this is just not reasonable or even advisable. That said, this controversy has made me want to read more books by Latino/Latina authors, especially Luis Alberto Urrea.

What a book! This engrossing and ingeniously plotted three-generation family saga will take you back to a time and place of incredible wealth, gracious manners, and deeply-guarded secrets.

It's 1936. While the rest of the country is in the depths of the Great Depression, New Yorkers Ogden and Kitty Milton—young and fabulously wealthy—buy a vacation home in Maine. Well, it's more than that. They buy an entire island. And Crockett's Island is a slice of paradise on Earth, which is exactly what Kitty needs to distract her from one of the worst tragedies a family can suffer. They put on a brave face and proceed to live the good life, while taking care to bury the worst of their secrets and lies. But this is also the story of "the other"—Jews, blacks, and the poor—and how the Miltons' privileged and pampered lives will be forever changed, and actually seared, by their prejudice, racism, deep-seated fears, and tragic mistakes.

This is a structurally complex literary novel that jumps around in time, but instead of being jarring, it works. And that is due to the skill and creativity of author Sarah Blake, who uses the back-and-forth leaps from one year to another to set up cliffhanger plot developments that will keep you reading. The characters—and there are many—are so colorfully drawn with such distinct personalities that it's easy to keep them straight. Blake's vivid and bold descriptions of the sights and smells of the island, the sound of the lapping salt water, the scent of bayberry in a copper vase, the brass notes of jazz in a crowded club, and the oppressive heat of a New York City summer will instantly transport you to these places.

In addition to being an important literary accomplishment, this is a really good story that is creatively told and brilliantly captures a bygone era with insightful life lessons for us all.

Oh, the writing! This book by E. Annie Proulx takes place primarily in Newfoundland. Even in the summer it's cold. And windy. I don't know how she did it, but Proulx's exquisite writing mirrors the iciness of the barren land. If ice and snow had a writing style, this would be it.

But know this: This extraordinary literary novel—it did win the Pulitzer Prize and the National Book Award—is not an easy book to read.

The focus is on the characters, rather than the plot. While there is quite a cast, most of whom have Dickensian names, such as Wavey Prowse, Tert Card, Mavis Bangs, and Beety Buggit, the main character, Quoyle (no first name is ever revealed) is the centerpiece.

Quoyle is 36 and such a forlorn and pitiful failure of a man! He is overweight, born with a large, ugly chin he often hides with his hand, and has no self-confidence. Horrible things happen to him, but he bounces back, albeit a little beat up each time. His redeeming quality is his abiding and intense love for his two little girls. After his unfaithful and meanspirited wife is killed, Quoyle moves from upper New York state to remote Killick-Claw, Newfoundland, the land of his ancestors. How he manages to scrape out a living—both monetarily and physically in this harsh environment—is the crux of the plot. But the real story is the transformation of Quoyle's character from a lonely, broken man to someone who is whole again.

This is what I call an "intelligent novel." There is no page-turning suspense, no ingenious plot, no lively narrative. It is, rather, a novel that will engage your senses, drop you headfirst into the setting, and make these characters with the funny names come alive.

Proulx's exceptional eye for detail is so exacting that I could almost smell the rotten fish, see the perilous rocks of ice in the water, hear the bleating of the foghorns, taste the favorite cuisine of squid burgers and cod cheeks, and feel the bitter, piercing cold seep through the windows.

This is a book to be savored and treasured.