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Just as enjoyable as the subject matter of the stories is the artful way in which McCracken has constructed each. The narratives move quickly, ensuring the transition between plots is smooth. Every story completes a satisfying arc that frequently includes an unexpected turn or surprise, and readers may find it only becomes apparent at the end that the author has packed in quite a lot of detail and action. McCracken truly shines in her use of dialogue and sumptuous prose, as in her description of

In Hummingbird Salamander, readers are confronted with the physicality and fragility of both the natural environment and human existence, as well as how the latter exploits the former. Jane describes herself as a large woman who dabbled in amateur bodybuilding and wrestling in her youth; she increasingly relies on her bodily strength as the plot moves her away from working in a digital world to investigating the contradictions of analog existence. Through this investigation, Jane takes th

For those who are mothers, or are contemplating the idea of motherhood, Burnt Sugar may dredge up insecurities, guilt and shortcomings. Antara's own insecurities appear throughout the book and include her concern that she, too, will be unable to control her impulses, and that she will parent as poorly as her mother. While disquieting, however, the novel is surprisingly light in parts, with Doshi infusing wry humor at well-timed moments in her depiction of the nuances of the mother-daughte

Aimaq fictionalizes America's entanglement in Afghanistan with reference or allusion to historical events and players. She does so in a manner that depicts the stark inequality and poverty in the country as well as the politically expedient nature of US foreign policy. Throughout most of the book, Aimaq employs a third-person point of view that provides insight into the duality of Daniel's American and Afghani perspectives. This approach is also effective in relating the unspoken sentiments and

Throughout this allegoric whirlwind, Fforde proves himself a master satirist, striking poignant chords with dry wit and playfulness. The author's adroit storytelling presents the rabbits with both a familiarity and alienness through which to explore fear-driven discrimination, otherizing and prejudice. He weaves historic, cultural and political references throughout the novel, an effort that if done with less skill would have resulted in a clunky narrative. Yet the text is anything but weighty.

Aria explores an array of experiences from a female perspective, including childbirth, love, marriage, loss, mothering, inheritance and abuse. The novel's third-person narrative allows for an ambitious blend of storylines and people, though some, such as Aria's childhood neighbor Kamran, seem to evaporate until they become useful again in the context of the growing political and social unrest. At times, the shift between storylines can be jarring, but the book is consistently engaging and