"Small Rain" by Garth Greenwell starts in the claustrophobic confines of an American emergency room during the pandemic's peak. I, for one, am thankful for having never experienced that firsthand. After the ER, we ended up in a hospital room, explained by the dizzying stream of consciousness accented by page-long paragraphs.

We meander from the nameless narrator's abusive upbringing and difficult early adulthood, the kinds of things that one ponders when considering one's mortality. It all adds up to a dizzying experience when we do not precisely know what to feel. If discussing your health led to concerns about your mortality, you may relate to many of the narrator's thoughts. He has no name, and his loved ones only have initials.

The articles describe the book as an indictment of our healthcare system, but the writer does not blame the employees. The bare-bones budget does not engender a fault-free atmosphere. The uncertainty allows the patient to think about the pride of homeownership and his understanding of poetry. The mind goes here when the doctors try to solve multiple mysteries simultaneously.

The process seems like a dream, how we envision one's life passing before one's eyes. What memories did your mind catalog, and which would be necessary when you start thinking about "the end"? Even when you face the possibility of going home, patients feel like they are institutionalized and fear the next steps. The feeling is always pleasant, but the author gets it right.

I would marvel at horror movies that did not seem like much as I watched them but made me nervous walking out into the regular world. "Small Rain" works like that. The author may appear to be rambling, but the story stays with you when you think about life. I was on the journey with him.

"James" by Percival Everett has the unenviable position of receiving almost every accolade. My eighth-grade English teacher gave us a list of 20 classics, and we had to do three book reviews. "Huckleberry Finn" was my third and favorite. I do not require but highly encourage rereading Twain since some actions assume your recollection. It is the same southern adventure.

James ends up by himself and discovers the freedom of reading and writing while recognizing the danger of doing either in public. He meets allies who share his hopes and fears. He also meets some swindlers and tries to survive among them, knowing he does not have many options. Those who have forgotten most of Twain's work will benefit from their ignorance.

Stories come back frequently from previous parts of the story. When they lynch an enslaved person over a pencil, as requested by Jim, word travels quickly through the grapevine. The writing incident is not his last predicament; this benefits readers since they will recall some events but not all. The minstrel show slipped my feeble mind.

Even when influenced by classic literature, reading about slavery never gets easier. When James puts himself in trouble for the greater good, you feel for him as someone who wants to see his family. Kids read the banned book "Huckleberry Finn" in junior high, but "James" has very adult content and scenes of violence. Twain's work had more of a romantic feel.

When related to the Civil War, the story's timing provides a great backdrop to America. Jim's questions about freedom most likely echoed the anxieties of all involved with the enslaved. The ending, which I will not reveal, has the intensity and audacity that most books could not achieve. Its late climax gives the reader great satisfaction and a dropped jaw.

"Model Home" by Rivers Solomon takes the standard haunted house novel and gives it a modern, woke twist. Imagine a neurodivergent family facing evil spirits on top of that inconvenience. When three very different siblings turn up at their loathed childhood home to find their parents dead, emotions come up for which they are unprepared. The house becomes the main suspect.

The multiple timelines serve a purpose. Ezri analyzes her childhood compared to the modern child-rearing they must do. Today, her siblings live genderless and explore veganism, allowing the family to examine how their upbringing influenced their contemporary existence. As a character, Ezri lacks direction from their past. A world of hookup apps introduces them to men who take advantage of their low self-esteem.

Goodreads lists this as an "LGBT" novel, and most of the characters qualify, but what stands out is the kind of universal humanity that they show to one another. You do not expect this in the horror genre, but the family drama is convincing and compelling. Novels about perfect people annoy the heck out of me.

Children faced with life after the death of both parents experience a broad spectrum of emotions. These adults know that their mother and father mistreated them and realize that they may never have closure. These elements of family drama make you forget that you are reading horror and allow you to enjoy the individuals. I think we all relate to holding a funeral for someone about whom you had mixed feelings.

When you receive answers, you will think it was right in front of your face the whole time. Since the lack of a specific genre limits cliches, you do not see it coming. Just be prepared for a late climax and empathize with the siblings' eeriness and pronounced wariness.

Even with history books and attempts to learn about cultures, some fall through the cracks. "Everything We Never Had" by Randy Ribay shows the Filipino struggle through three generations, and we know about their unique challenges. Since the novel deals with different generations of the same family, the reader learns much about why subsequent offspring are who and how they are.

A common ultra-conservative argument is that we need to stop making things about race. Fine. Fair, but reading about immigrants who came here to make a better life for themselves will make you think about your ancestors, even if that makes you prouder of America. Some of my relatives have the same frustrating relationship with their elders. They admire them while still annoyed with their stodgy ways.

The four generations have a unique mix of pride and disgust for their heritage. I have had conversations with Cuban-Americans that had the same tone. If we recognize immigrants' struggles in the 1920s, we better understand the attitudes that descend from that frustration and uncertainty. I was rooting for the men to find a way to communicate.

The book's goal is optimistic, so I wondered how many situations like this were successful. Some of us embrace our inability to talk as a masculine quirk. This discord gives the author a challenging task: can the characters come to a resolution without tying up the strands too neatly? You know what I mean if you have ever tried to enact change in a relative over 70.

So, what have we learned? Listen. Family history has much to tell us, and elders do not always recognize which details are worth sharing. Almost every male has had this conflict with his father since previous men did not speak to their sons. Most are learning how now.

People have personified animals in literature for generations, but this Newbery winner may be the first to give them the same thoughts and emotions as their human counterparts. "The Eyes & The Impossible by Dave Eggers is a must-read for elementary students. Dogs have spoken before in literature, but this is the first to imagine them as full-thinking beings and narrators who examine human behavior.

Our hero dog, Johannes, serves as "The Eyes" in his park. Other animals rely on him to tell them the goings-on. The dogs, buffalo, and birds all work together. The animals try to help humans but find that animal control easily mistakes aid for burden. We have not heard of Harambe for years, but we see echoes.

The dog wears sweaters and tries to outrun Animal Control, taking on different roles as plot devices designed to keep Johannes as the watchdog in the urban park. The personification makes the animals sympathetic creatures running from detection. The writer subtly gives the canine thought and rationalization abilities with regular limitations, like the concept of time.

The author does a bang-up job of laying out the hierarchy of animals. We do not expect the goats to feel subservient to dogs, but that is the law of the land. We find the animals in precarious situations, and they have to remind us that this middle-grade book will allow minimal harm to come to the mortal characters.

Middle-grade books rank among the most difficult to write. Animal protagonists require a bit of silliness but enough introspection to keep some of them as sympathetic and relatable characters. In this case, Johannes suffers a near-death experience and finds a way to save his hide while protecting his closest confidants at the same time. The ending, therefore, is satisfying and not very predictable.

In "Clear" by Carys Davies, we are drawn into the unique story of an impoverished preacher assigned to 'clear' the last inhabitant of a remote Scottish island. As a language teacher, I found the interaction between the two men during the Scottish Clearances fascinating.

I've often noticed that flap summaries can sometimes reveal too much. In the case of "Clear," the listed genre inadvertently spoils the book's ambitious conclusion. I longed for the thrill of discovering the story's twists and turns in real time.

The concept of two men brought together by tragic circumstances is timeless. A person who has lived in isolation for so long will undoubtedly benefit from another's presence. The setting, focused on the Scottish Clearances, is the novel's most substantial aspect, as I needed more prior knowledge about this historical event.

Despite my reservations about the ending, I was captivated by Carys Davies' masterful use of imagery and her skillful character development. This is a challenging art form, especially when the characters barely speak to each other and do not share a common language. Here, I recognize my areas for improvement in a novel. I realize I could never have written myself. She has four other books that I need to find soon.

If you are a reader who can enjoy the journey without fixating on a predictable destination, this book is for you. Most authors could only dream of painting such vivid word pictures. If you are a reader who can enjoy the journey without dwelling on a predictable destination, this book is for you. Most authors could only dream of painting such word pictures.

So, you will enjoy this unique book more if you know little about it. I ended up satisfied with the outcome since it still had surprises for those who persevered.

'Orbital' by Samantha Harvey, with its 207 pages, is a thought-provoking journey that does not pretend to be something it is not. It takes us into the minds of astronauts and cosmonauts as they float around the Earth, sharing their profound thoughts about what they see. This deep and existential narrative values introspection over dramatic events, a style that may not appeal to everyone but certainly left me with a lot to ponder.

While we often ponder the moon landing and the search for life on Earth, 'Orbital' by Samantha Harvey takes a different approach. It prompts us to consider the implications of encountering other beings and what that means for our place in the universe. The book Sailors of the Stars focuses on Earth and its appearance from the outside, a perspective few will experience, reinforcing our secure place in this world.

As a 9-year-old, when the Challenger exploded, I didn't dwell much on its impact on the space travel industry. But Samantha Harvey, the author of 'Orbital, 'delves deep into this existential question. What did it mean? Her contemplation extends to the very purpose of space travel, often meandering in thought to the point of losing the reader.

Still, there is some beautiful imagery here. If you have difficulty imagining what Earth would look like from the International Space Station, Harvey paints a picture. The astronauts are learning as they go, which means we are, too. They stand in awe of how they see the Earth and recognize different countries and borders. Some have more extended tours of duty than others.

I have more friends doing reading challenges than I previously imagined, so a short but deep work like this will serve its lofty purpose. You will love its universal message and understand its profound significance to humanity.

"Master-Slave Husband Wife: An Epic Journey from Slavery to Freedom" by Ilyon Woo takes a topic many have written about but makes it fresh and new. William and Ellen Craft met through slavery yet wanted to reunite in freedom as a married couple. The light-skinned Ellen passes for White, and William plays the part of her loyal enslaved well enough.

How they pulled this off is the most exciting part of the early pages. In 1840, the "one drop" rule was in effect, and if Ellen even looked "a little black," it could endanger her. They travel through several states on several modes of transportation to the free spots, and nearby Aberdeen and Havre de Grace make an unexpected appearance.

The novel suffers a bit when it leaves the story of the Crafts to describe more about the politicking surrounding slavery in the mid-1800s since most experienced readers have heard the stories before. They were sometimes necessary, but most people are informed enough to know most of them.

The author speaks of Henry Clary and Frederick Douglass a great deal as they played roles in the emancipation process. The Crafts transitioned to activism and were the protagonists we knew little about before reading this. I wanted to know more about them. For that reason, any fault I found was with the writing, not the story itself. My history buff friends may have heard this story before.

William and Ellen Craft inspire us all since they found a way out when the world did not seem willing to give them that chance. Like most nonfiction writers, Woo researched tirelessly to provide a story that few history textbooks have touched. The 1840s, as a period of slavery, deserves more attention since people had to write their own rules even to sniff freedom.

"A Fever in the Heartland: The Ku Klux Klan's Plot to Take Over America, and the Woman Who Stopped Them" helps one with only a working knowledge of the KKK figure out how they were so popular in the 1920s. You will find most political rhetoric familiar, but knowing that the group wielded such power may shock you.

Reading about the Klan's rhetoric, you can't help but recognize the familiar pattern of scapegoating. The Klan's strategy was simple: you were either with them or against them. The establishment of a common enemy was crucial to their mission. It's a tactic that still resonates in today's political landscape, serving as a cautionary tale.

The Klan, despite its proclaimed values, exhibited a striking hypocrisy, engaging in the very vices it condemned. The influential figures in the group held sway over society, echoing Will Rogers' observation: "It is the most religion preached and the least practiced." You should be tuned into different news channels if this doesn't resonate.

The action starts at about the halfway point, in which we read about a devastating rape, kidnapping, and assault. Reading about rape never gets more accessible or less shocking. The legal proceedings that fellow show that men in power have been getting away with atrocities for generations. Like a good crime drama, you expect a cheerful ending but cannot see how it is possible when you recognize the breadth of control Grand Dragons indeed possesses.

The legal proceedings remind you of how hard it is to convict men in power. When the word of others holds so much weight, people stand up about the legal burden of proof. The trial reminded me that hearing about reasonable doubt is the biggest necessary evil in our society. Any police procedural teaches that painful lesson in hour-long stints.

My favorite critic, Roger Ebert, always made astute points but had seen so many movies that he had less tolerance for cliches. "Only the Beautiful" by Susan Meissner covers the often-discussed mistreatment of pregnant single women in the 1930s, a time when societal norms and attitudes towards unwed mothers were particularly harsh. Despite this familiar theme, the novel still feels fresh and new. Our hero, Rosie, can see colors when she hears sounds. This peculiarity, along with the pregnancy, places her in an asylum.

As a reader, I need help mixing realism with fantasy. You must hang onto the theme of seeing colors to see the point. The drama associated with our unwed mothers is heart-wrenching on its own. We also glimpse the future about how paternal responsibility can take a back seat as we only blame the mother for indiscretions.

I once recommended a book to a friend with three kids, and she told me not to make her read about child endangerment. Consider this mantra applicable here. When Rosie realizes that the staff assumes she will give up Baby Amaryllis, she enters a panicked flight mode. Her unique ability to see colors when she hears sounds, a condition known as synesthesia, is misunderstood and feared, leading to her mistreatment. This connection between her condition and the mistreatment she faces is a powerful exploration of societal attitudes towards difference and mental health in the 1930s.

Since many categorize the book as "mental health," I had to research a bit to see that Roseanne's condition, synesthesia, actually exists and synesthetes have turned their state into a positive. Since she was different, they sterilized her, and we see how the new narrator experienced similar thoughts while caring for a differently-abled child abroad.

This important book was heavy but worth the read.

Hollywood often misrepresents the teaching profession. However, Jennifer Matthieu, a current high school teacher, writes "The Faculty Lounge" with a deep understanding of the profession. The characters and situations she portrays are not just relatable, they are a mirror of the challenges educators face every day. This connection makes the book a compelling read, as it assures educators that they are not alone in their struggles.

All aspects of typical teacher problems take center stage. By way of a worthless gripe, please do not read the Goodreads preview, as it gives away the ending to the first three vignettes. Teachers will recognize the ill-advised relationships, neglecting personal relationships, knowing that they survived but others did not. You will see infidelity happening and root for the characters to avoid the inevitable.

One of the most striking aspects of the book is the camaraderie and general kindness that the teachers share. Even those who may seem cold or disgruntled, like the alcoholic older teacher, find common ground in their shared challenges. This fosters a deep sense of unity and understanding among the characters, making the readers feel not just a part of their world, but a part of a larger community of educators.

Reviews online are funny. Teachers who lived innocent lives like to point out that happy hours, intercourse among co-workers, and bending of the rules do not reflect their experience. In my 27th year in the classroom, I will tell you that I have met all of these people, even the ones who were very different from me. The profession is emotional, and we all cope in our way, some healthy, some not.

Despite Jennifer Matthieu's primary focus on young adult literature and her career as a teacher, 'The Faculty Lounge' exceeded expectations. Cast your colleagues in the pivotal roles!

Pennsylvania history shapes the ethnic neighborhoods of today, and books like 'The Heaven & Earth Grocery Store' by James McBride serve as a poignant reminder of their origins. In a state as vast as Pennsylvania, countless stories exist for the telling. This particular narrative is a unique blend of murder mystery, character study, and historical fiction. The personalities may seem overwhelming initially, but you'll soon immerse yourself in their world.

The story's core lies in the characters, primarily a human skeleton unearthed on a dig and a mysterious deaf boy. McBride takes a bold step by revealing these key elements early, but it pays off. The author's ambition is evident as he introduces new, unique threads, and part of the joy is in deciphering how they all intertwine. You'll find yourself deeply captivated by these characters, their complexity drawing you in and keeping you engaged in their journey.

Exceptional writing is when the expected unfolds, yet you find yourself hanging on to every word. Dodo, our deaf character, faces a harsh sentence for a crime he didn't commit, a twist that keeps you on the edge of your seat. As various other threads unravel, with chapter titles that only make sense in retrospect, the intrigue deepens. It's like a puzzle, and you're hooked, eagerly anticipating the next piece, your excitement growing with each page turn. The narrative keeps you engaged and guessing, making it a compelling read.

The many characters add to the plot because you must determine who will become more significant. There are a ton of subplots, but the fate of Dodo remains in the forefront of your mind. I could see Hollywood taking a stab at having a talented actor try to communicate like he does. Pennsylvanian history never sounded so complete.

Gaunt and Ellwood, resilient in the face of adversity, sit at their English boarding school, pining for each other and contemplating the World War. They enlist separately, their hearts heavy with their forbidden, unspoken feelings. Homosexuality exists in various forms, some healthy some not. In this era, societal constraints, such as the criminalization of homosexuality and the pressure to conform to traditional gender roles, left them with few other options. People silently envisioned their lives of bachelorhood, a testament to their resilience when societal constraints left them with few alternatives.

The tales of romance and war seem like two different novels. The horrors of battle are a lot to read. The mechanics of homosexual sex, which Winn describes in more graphic detail than in most novels, are not just for shock value. They serve to humanize Gaunt and Ellwood's relationship, showing that their love is as natural and complex as any other. Gaunt and Ellwood's emotional relationship is intricate, and few authors bother to create it entirely.

If there's one critique, the author could have delved deeper into the individual development of the two protagonists. We know them as a unit, but their quirks remain a mystery without detracting from the intensity of the battle scenes. The novel takes an unexpected turn with an apparent early tragedy, sparking anticipation and concern for the aftermath's shape, domestically and abroad.

The narrative is full of necessary twists and turns and picks up at the beginning of the final third. The separation of the two men is a pivotal moment, and the use of a dual timeline and dramatic irony works effectively to underscore the emotional weight of this event. You see examples of brotherhood in the face of strife and fear.

The ending is sad as can be but somehow uplifting simultaneously.

Meandering through generations and cultures, "North Woods" shows more ambition than any novel this year. I saw this to attract some of you to the book and keep others away. It has a plodding start, and many stories start to jell. Many families and descendants occupy the same field, and short stories tell the storied history of New England.  

We encounter a man who devoted his life to an apple orchard and then to his adult twin daughters, who witness his fate tragically and suddenly altered. The crime leads to a shocking discovery. The narrative leaps from one story to another in an unpredictable, erratic pattern, adding a layer of suspense. Each vignette is a surprise and distinctly unique, showcasing the captivating and unique storytelling style of 'North Woods. '

The narrative may have its lulls, but it compensates with significant revelations from each story. The piece about a painter in forbidden love may seem familiar, but it narrates its events in a way that keeps you thoroughly engrossed. The narrative shines when it ties threads together rather than introducing entirely new characters. The story of an older gentleman who penned mysterious letters of unrequited love is a prime example.

Reading 'North Woods ', I found myself drifting off a few times, only to be jolted back by the unexpected connections. Like in 'The Overstory ', you do not realize how many ways a tree could affect us. Author Daniel Mason recognizes their experiences despite their short lifespans. These unexpected connections make 'North Woods' a compelling read, keeping you engaged and eager to discover more.

Before I knew it, I was completely immersed in the rich universe of 'North Woods '. The book's countless stories waiting to be told drew me in and kept me interested, like great literary fiction.

Women can be heroes.

It is a simple line to repeat, but it is appropriate in “The Women” by Kristin Hannah. Frankie wants to serve as a nurse in Vietnam to help the way her male relatives had. Like “Platoon,” we see the war through the eyes of the most inexperienced eyes possible, from a well-meaning civilian with good intentions.

Kristin Hannah excels at taking history stories we think we know and telling them in new, engaging ways. The horrors of war have no way of hiding from the uninitiated. Somehow, the author balances romance, violence, and national pacifism to paint the picture for those who did not live through this time. It questions war for all the right reasons.

Frankie’s world is chaotic, and we experience several “MASCAL,” or mass casualty incidents that would almost desensitize you…and Frankie, for that matter. She does her job admirably despite the shock. Elements of romance appear, and, as is Hannah’s strength, the reader does not know the outcome since the aspects of war do not guarantee survival. The goal seems more profound.

At the novel's halfway point, we experience what life was like coming home from Vietnam, especially for women. At least now, we thank everyone, not just men, for their service. The lack of support from the nation led to a downward spiral of alcohol, anger, and flashbacks, made worse since no one considered the woman’s role as traumatizing as combat.

You endure a lot of suffering and truly experience the various adjustment periods for Frankie. She never seems ready but always endures what comes up. If you finish reading thinking that the author glorified war or that the protesters did not have a point, you read a different book than I did. Kristin Hannah is one of our better authors.

A common refrain from otherwise jovial married men in Mexico was, “Mi esposa está casada. Yo, no.” Men said that their wives were married, but they weren’t. I had no idea that these attitudes led to an epidemic of unreported spousal abuse, but it is rampant there. “Liliana’s Invincible Summer: A Sister’s Search for Justice” by Cristina Rivera Garza tells the story of one such femicide.

As with any life cut too short, we remember Liliana’s youthful exuberance and naivete. Her letters and notes will remind you of high school. A jealous man (in 1990, because toxic masculinity had a name) took that all away. Ángel, the man scorned, functioned as if he did not realize that Liliana was a free individual.

Using Liliana’s letters to tell her story paints the picture of a developing young woman forming opinions of men and dating those who mistreated her. She was flighty, unpredictable, and impulsive; in other words, she was a possessive man’s worst nightmare. Just in case you are one of my friends who thinks toxic masculinity is an American myth.

The fact that femicide exists as a word in this culture is all that you need to know. Words like “hate crime” have a political charge to them, but this book reminds us why they need to exist. Americans look at problems in other cultures as a reason to love their own country, but anyone can learn a lot here.

It would be best if you read this because it is not typical. It tackles spousal abuse, grief, loss, and patriarchy without focusing on one at a time. It celebrates Liliana and, appropriately, does little to develop the perpetrator's character. We celebrate a life even though it ends tragically and suddenly. We live the “invincible summer” before the long winter.

"Time Shelter" by Georgi Gospodinov may not be your favorite novel of the year. Still, it won the award for best premises. A man tries to treat Alzheimer's and dementia by recreating a different one on each building floor. Not surprisingly, people without diagnoses begin to seek out the comfort of this place to escape reality for a while.

While movies like 'Click' delve into the pain of looking back, 'Time Shelter' offers a narrative that will stimulate your intellect. The therapeutic qualities of unlocking core memories will captivate your attention and provoke your thoughts. As you read, you'll find yourself pondering these ideas. The narrator's struggle with the use of 'time' and 'place' adds an intriguing layer to the story, affecting the characters and the plot.

The novel eloquently explores the idea that the past is inevitable while the future is uncertain. This uncertainty leads more and more people to retreat into the past, raising questions about the future of culture. The result is a series of vignettes that vividly depict the adverse effects of this societal trend and the architect's unwavering commitment to his mission. Reading 'Time Shelter' will make you more aware of these societal trends and their implications.

The twist in the story occurs just before the halfway point, revealing some unexpected political motivations behind the desire to live in another time.

As people create the ideology they want, the plot turns fascinating. The mixture of eras confuses the characters and the reader as well. When we involve other countries, we inevitably compare to America and wonder how a skilled director could transfer this to our country.

In the trendy genre of Speculative Fiction, we often see decisions as if we will have no future. Mark this down as the first author who takes that literally.

"Kairos," the lesser-known god of fortunate events, lends his name to a post-unification Berlin tale. This story, about the unexpected affair between a married 50-year-old and a 19-year-old, is not your typical romance. Their relationship, with all the elements of a star-crossed meet cute, is a compelling exploration of love and sacrifice, even when their future is uncertain.

American history classes often focus on the fall of the Berlin Wall, a significant event that symbolized the end of the Cold War and the reunification of Germany.

However, the periods before and after this event are equally important in the context of our story. The strong ideologies that defined this era serve as an unwitting backdrop to an unbalanced, dominating love story. In this narrative, the societal and political upheaval, rather than physical boundaries, are the characters' primary concerns, providing a rich historical setting that will inform the reader.

In this story, the young woman and the older gentleman act predictably, but their actions reflect the German landscape in 1987. The societal norms of the time, influenced by the aftermath of the Cold War and the unification of Germany, dictated their choices. Even after translation, the author assumes some political knowledge that required me to look up a few things.

Just past the halfway point, things take a dark turn, which, in retrospect, the author foreshadowed sufficiently. The plot twist, while effective, evoked a sense of discomfort in me, a testament to the author's skill in crafting a compelling narrative. Without revealing too much, realize that it is hard to read about gaslighting and emotional abuse, whether it is a country or a boyfriend committing it.

It all makes for an engaging but squirm-inducing novel. Our generation knows little about German life, but this educates us about it.

“Night Watch” by Jayne Anne Phillips, with its unique stream-of-consciousness writing and a multitude of characters, is a novel that may not resonate with everyone. It transports you to the post-Civil War era, where 12-year-old ConaLee is thrust into adulthood with her mute mother. Their journey unfolds in an asylum, forcing them to assume new identities and blend in. The novel's depth is shaped by its diverse cast of characters and multiple points of view, which may be a lot to take in for some.

The quick change to other topics will annoy some. When we go back to Eliza, the mother, to find out why she doesn’t speak, we read about a sexual assault that is even worse than usual. Dearbhla, the neighbor and surrogate to ConaLee, fancies herself as spiritual and senses conflict from afar. Her use of tinctures will remind you of “The Lost Apothecary.” Switching between stories makes you yearn to know what is happening in another.

On another note, we meet a man known as “The Sharpshooter,” who is recovering from war-related injuries and cannot remember his name. His process grounds the novel with the realities of combat. It will remind you of your first “Pulp Fiction” viewing as you try to connect all the dots. For once, reading reviews helped me as it enabled me to think about what the book had to say about women’s health, specifically, and mental health in general.

Phillips is a skilled writer because this is too much for the average author to balance in a 275-page novel. If you enjoy non-linear, unconventional books, this is for you, but exercise some patience. The ending is rewarding, sad, and wonderful all at the same time. Even the characters who seemed minor will come out as significant and worth the wait.

“A Day in the Life of Abed Salama: Anatomy of a Jerusalem Tragedy” by Nathan Thrall tells a story that will pull at your parent strings. Imagine hearing that your child was in a bad bus accident, but your Palestinian status keeps you from being anywhere near him. The author provides many back stories, so we know that these restrictions are expected of Palestinians.

Abed's life is a complex tapestry of experiences, a narrative many Americans can only begin comprehending. With multiple marriages, the constant fear of divorce, and rejections based solely on his last name and reputation, his story is one of resilience.

However, it is Huda, a doctor who has weathered periods of ethnic cleansing, who truly captivates us. Despite the oppressive rules, she fearlessly defies them to ensure the survival of refugees, embodying a level of compassion that is truly remarkable.

The account of the bus accident is a vivid and chilling narrative. Coming from a country that typically finds a way to aid the less fortunate, Abed’s numerous roadblocks left me uneasy. The sheer number of people involved in the rescue mission, including individuals from the IDF and ZAKA, is a testament to the collective effort to assist without compromising their unwavering, deeply rooted beliefs.

Thrall is an Israeli historian with degrees in literature and politics. At first, the numerous maps and political talk distracted me, but I soon figured out why it was there. A scholar like Thrall will answer any questions about this never-ending conflict.

I have very opinionated friends about Israel now, and my lack of knowledge usually makes me shy away from arguments. Thrall writes for curious people like me who wonder how we got here. The families of victims show a mixture of acceptance and resignation. They wanted their kids back.