The Next One is for You, by Ali Watkins****

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One of the most hotly contested political issues for English speaking people during the 1970s and 1980s was the battle taking place in the North of Ireland between its original inhabitants and the British government. This reviewer was deeply interested in the conflict while it took place, and so when I saw this book, The Next One is for You: A True Story of Guns, Country, and the IRA’s Secret Army, by Ali Watkins,my heart began to pound before I’d read a single page. My thanks go to NetGalley and Little, Brown and Company for the review copy. This book is for sale now.

The fight between the working-class citizens of Belfast and the middle-class Protestants, who worked hand in glove with the British Crown, has roots that are centuries deep. Watkins reviews these without going into the weeds, and leads us up to modern times succinctly. I appreciate her fair discussion of the manner in which the Irish Republican Army, or IRA, developed and burgeoned. (U.S. readers new to the topic should know that ‘Republican’ was part of the name due to a desire for the Irish Northern counties to be restored to the Republic of Ireland, not because of any political similarities to the Republican party in the U.S.A.) Initially the movement was modeled on the Civil Rights Movement of the United States, with large, peaceful marches; there were signs, songs and speeches given. People packed lunches and took their children with them. But these protests were violently repulsed, with police and the military surrounding the participants so that there was no escape, and then shooting them like wooden ducks in an arcade.

Poverty was widespread in Belfast and its surrounding areas, with few jobs, and miserable living conditions in government subsidized apartments. “A Catholic surname got you passed over for jobs, if you even got the chance to apply.”  There was no Bill of Rights, and when armed forces chose to search someone’s home, they announced themselves by kicking the door in. The situation was intolerable.  And so, when peaceful protest was no longer possible, there were two choices remaining: armed struggle or defeat. “The goal: to expel the British from Northern Ireland, whatever the cost.”

Because such a large portion of the U.S. population is of Irish descent, these circumstances were of great interest in America. When the IRA broke off from the more traditional, less militant (and ineffective) organization that already existed, it wasn’t long before many Americans wanted to help in some way. Two organizations developed in the States, and this is much of what Watkins discusses. Clan na Gael was an Irish solidarity organization that had existed in the U.S. since 1867. It became an important element in the Irish struggle, organizing politically, and raising funds. But in order to gain widespread appeal, there needed to be an additional organization that existed for those that wanted to contribute financially to the poor of Belfast without also supporting the armed fight. In 1969, NORAID was born.

A disclosure: this reviewer was a great supporter of both organizations during that time. In fact, I once won a raffle from the Clan, which netted me a wheelbarrow of whiskey! Since I don’t drink, I took one bottle for my spouse and donated the rest back to the Clan. I never joined the Clan, primarily because I wasn’t asked.

Watkins discusses the history of both organizations as well as the key individuals that brought them about. She does a magnificent job and brings a treasure trove of outstanding documentation, right up until nearly the end of the book, at which point she inexplicably lapses into the journo-speak of the period, blathering about “senseless violence” in an abrupt shift that made my jaw drop. She had already explained, very capably, just why a nonviolent struggle was completely impossible. The devastating numbers of Irish youth that died during this campaign is indeed heartbreaking, but at the same time, just what else were they supposed to do? No foreign government was even remotely interested in assisting them; the British government was a key ally of the U.S. government, and had something of a headlock on its protectorates. And while I respect that the author had to conclude the book in one way or another, just admitting that there was no clear solution would have been vastly better than parroting American mainstream media of the time period. What the what?

Nevertheless, those with an interest in this struggle should get this book and read it. Just bear the ending with a grain of salt.

Ain’t Nobody’s Fool, by Martha Ackmann****

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“People don’t come to see me be me. They come to see me be them.”

Ain’t Nobody’s Fool: the Life and Times of Dolly Parton, by Martha Ackman, is a fine biography of one of America’s most iconic musicians. My thanks go to NetGalley and St. Martin’s Press for the review copy. This book is for sale now.

Dolly began singing as a child, first informally, as children do, but she also understood very early on that this would be her life’s work. Most of her family was musically inclined, but she had a greater talent and a greater need to use it. She also had the right personality for the job; though her early years were filled with deprivation—the song “Coat of Many Colors” does actually describe an early childhood experience that marked her—she was also born with a sunny outlook and determination. For example, when she met the love of her life, Carl Dean, just as she was beginning to be heard on the local radio, she told him that though she loved him, she could not become a traditional wife to him. She would not have supper waiting when he finished work. She would not produce a houseful of children. These are the things that would prevent her from realizing her burning ambition. They were a trap. And happily, Carl—a private man that didn’t listen to country music so much as Led Zeppelin—told her that was just fine with him. He wasn’t going to tag along everywhere and be Mr. Dolly Parton, but they would make it work. And they did.

Fans of Dolly’s might have wondered, as I did, whether we would learn more about the rather mysterious Carl when reading this biography. We will not, apart from seeing Dolly’s philosophy where her marriage was concerned. Though in every other respect she has been open and accessible to the public, Dolly has followed her mother’s advice, that she should find just one thing about her life that she would not share with others, but keep for herself. For Dolly, that’s Carl. The man died last year, but she still keeps Carl, and her memories of their sixty years of marriage, to herself. And I don’t see how we can complain.

Whenever I read a galley, I highlight passages that I think might be suitable to include as quotes in my review. In this case, I highlighted 60! I can’t use them all, but this should give the reader a clue as to how readable this lovely biography is, and how saturated with quotes from Dolly, and from those that know and love her. From her early, sometimes tumultuous years working for and with Porter Wagoner, to the actors that she worked with in movies such as 9 to 5 and Steel Magnolias, to her own family members, it’s rich. Another fun fact: by doing some of her recordings in Tennessee, and by creating the massive theme park, Dollywood, she has come close to doubling the GDP of the state of Tennessee!

Many people may not be aware of Dolly’s intellect and savvy business skills. I have read so many musical memoirs and biographies of hugely talented, successful musicians that trusted others to take care of their business matters and accounting, only to discover too late that they’d been robbed. Perhaps my favorite anecdote in this biography is where early on, when she was only starting to be recognized, Colonel Parker, the man that ran Elvis’s career and gutted his finances, came to Dolly to express interest in one of her songs. Elvis wanted to sing “Islands in the Stream.” But he told her sweetly, Elvis is accustomed to receiving the publishing rights to any song he performs. And Dolly, also responding sweetly, told him how sorry she was, but she just didn’t believe in parting with her catalog. Many years later, after she and Kenny Rogers had gone more than platinum with that same song, she said that that song alone made her more than enough money to buy Graceland, at least hypothetically!

Serious fans and researchers will do well to augment their knowledge by reading at least one other biography, or Dolly’s own autobiography, My Life. Though author Ackman has a congenial writing style and has read a great deal about her subject, she has apparently never interviewed Parton herself. I combed through the documentation at the end of the book and found that out of the hundreds of end notes, there are just five references to a couple of interviews by the author with friends and family of Dolly’s. Sources for the book’s early chapters are sparse and not well integrated, relying almost exclusively on the autobiography.

Nevertheless, this is a greatly enjoyable read. I played Dolly’s music as I read, and though I am finished with it and am reading other things now, I still carry Dolly around with me.

Jigsaw, by Jonathan Kellerman****

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Can you think of a mystery series that is as long running and reliably entertaining as the Alex Delaware series, by Jonathan Kellerman? This is his 41st, and it’s going strong. My thanks go to NetGalley and Ballantine Books for the review copy. This book will be available to the public February 3, 2026.

After so many installments, the regular characters in this series feel like old friends. When homicide detective Milo Sturgis careens into the kitchen of his longtime bestie, Dr. Alex Delaware and raids the fridge like a huge, gay version of Dagwood Bumstead, I can’t help smiling. Milo, Alex, it’s good seeing you again! Most episodes begin this way. Unlike many well-established series, however, we don’t take a great deal of time for character development, because there are three murders here and they cannot wait!

The first appears to be obvious; a young woman is found murdered in her home, and the cigarette butts nearby bear the DNA of her boyfriend. But it’s not as it seems. Next, an elderly woman—a former cop—is missing, and a welfare check finds her dead, dismembered, in her freezer. Yikes! The chief suspect, her developmentally disabled daughter, is later also found dead. And the woman in the freezer is a colleague, known to Milo.

The interesting part about this one is that the victim, the former cop, is a hoarder. Who knew? Nothing about her suggested that her home would be jammed full of trash, but here we are. Piles of newspaper, food wrappers, mouse droppings, paper sacks full of money, magazines…more bags full of money…

Huh?

Like all of the books in this series, this is a quick read. Partly that’s because it’s fast paced and interesting, and partly it’s because it’s chock full of snappy dialogue. Whereas I miss the humor that is frequently injected into these stories, I appreciate the trend away from the twisted sexual situations that appeared for a few years. All told, this is an excellent entry into a series that has never failed to engage me, and I wholeheartedly recommend it to you.

Evelyn in Transit, by David Guterson**

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Maybe we should call it the Harper Lee syndrome; you write one absolutely amazing novel. It becomes iconic, and then, nothing else ever works again. I hope that’s not what has happened to David Guterson, the author of Snow Falling on Cedars. For whatever reason, his new book, Evelyn in Transit, is a complete wash for me.

My thanks go to W.W. Norton, RB Media, and NetGalley for the review copies. This book is for sale now.

We have two protagonists, Evelyn and Tsering. Evelyn is a curious and somewhat oppositional child in Indiana; Tsering is in Tibet. We see their separate stories in the beginning, but the transitions are abrupt and I cannot find any emotional connection with either of them. Ultimately, they are connected within the story when a group of lamas (people, not llamas) turn up on the now-grown Evelyn’s porch to tell her that her kindergartener is the reincarnation of the Dali lama that has recently died.

The promotional blurb tells us that the story is written in “a spare, precise style of extraordinary beauty, full of surprising humor and luminosity.” I’ll vouch for the “spare” part; I think of it as a “see Spot run” style, reminiscent of early grade school reading texts. The humor and luminosity, however, have eluded me.

 It might have helped to have more of an internal monologue, particularly for Evelyn; she did and said so many things that were surprising and inappropriate, and if I had a better handle on her motivation, she might have seemed more like a seeker and less like an antisocial outlier. Tsering was even worse.

I had access to both the audio and digital review copies; the reader did a competent job, but couldn’t save the narrative. I don’t think anyone could have. I can’t recommend it.

Bad Asians, by Lillian Li**-***

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Lillian Li is the author of Number One Chinese Restaurant (2018), a tale of sibling rivalry and complex family issues that was in turns suspenseful and hilarious. It was, and remains, one of my all-time favorites from 14 years of reviewing, and because of it, I have followed Li on every possible site, waiting to pounce whenever her next novel became available. And perhaps this oversized expectation has fed into my disappointment this time around. Bad Asians is not a dreadful book, but it’s not close to being on par with that first magnificent novel.

My thanks go to NetGalley and Henry Holt for the invitation to read and review. This book will be available to the public February 17, 2026.

Bad Asians tells the story of four young Chinese-Americans who finish college, yet find the American dream they’ve been expecting is still nowhere in sight. Then an old classmate named Grace returns to the neighborhood. Grace had the keys to the kingdom growing up; she had the fanciest house by far, the nicest clothes, and was a source of awe for all of them. Grace seemed to have it made. Now she’s back, and she wants to feature the four of them in her documentary. They agree, albeit without great expectations; the movie will most likely never see the light of day, they figure. Instead, it goes viral on a streaming platform, and it shows all of them as caricatures of their worst selves. They are recognized on the street; they are mocked.

Grace, meanwhile, is in dire financial straits herself; she appeared to have it made, yet that was an illusion.

For some reason, the narrative doesn’t flow as cleanly as Li’s last one, and the frequent changes of setting, both in time and place, are a fair amount of work to follow. I had access to both the digital and audio versions, and whereas the narrator does a decent job, I find myself wondering whether I would have been more successful in keeping track of the story’s many moving parts if I had stuck to the digital version alone. Had I been excited about its potential, I might have backtracked and tried reading it again, but I wasn’t and didn’t—although I did reread small portions of it.

I am probably not within the targeted demographic, since I am not young and not Asian; yet one feature grates on my sensibilities throughout it, and that is the treatment of “Asian-American” and “Chinese-American” as synonyms. It’s true that all of the protagonists are of Chinese origin, but at some point, I would like to have seen recognition that there are other Asian-Americans. Yes, all Chinese-Americans are Asian-Americans, but the reverse is not true, and though I’ve tried to set it aside, I can’t get past the apparent assumption that Americans of Filipino, Japanese, Korean, or Pacific Island heritage—not to even mention many more that hail from other regions of Asia– are irrelevant.

I can’t recommend this novel to you, although I will still happily read Li’s next book. She did it once, and I believe that she can do it again, but this isn’t it.

King Sorrow, by Joe Hill*****

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Arthur Oakes is in a jam. He is a student at Rackham College in Maine, and to make ends meet, he has a work-study position in the library’s rare books collection. But he finds himself unexpectedly being blackmailed into stealing books from that very place, a nightmare of epic proportions; the solution proves to be an even greater nightmare. He and his friends summon a dragon to get rid of the blackmailers, but now the dragon won’t go away.

My thanks go to NetGalley and William Morrow for the review copy. This outstanding tome is for sale now.

This author has no doubt learned to take comparisons between his writing and that of his mega-famous father, Stephen King, in stride. My own impression from reading both is reaffirmed here: he’s every bit as good and perhaps, at times, better. His father has mellowed in his old age, and he’s become reluctant to kill his most sympathetic characters. Hill, however, has no such compunctions. It increases the suspense to know, while reading, that he actually might do that.

Arthur has become involved with a townie, Gwen Underfoot, whose family has cleaned for the family of his friend, student Colin Wren, for generations. Add in some other friends, Alison Shiner and the twins, Donna and Donovan—clever of Hill to insert some D&D into a dragon story—and we have a cabal.

One of the earliest points of interest for me is that nobody in this circle of friends seems to doubt for a moment that the effort to summon a dragon will be successful. I had expected self-conscious eyerolling, but their approach is well researched and oddly businesslike. King Sorrow arrives with a vengeance, and he does not disappoint! The saga that unspools from there is an epic one, over 800 pages, so those that like to hurry through short novels will need to steer clear or adjust their thinking. As for me, never at any point did I see anything that resembled padding. There is never a slow moment, and while at the outset I made a point not to read this story too close to bedtime, lest it affect my dreams, once I reached the story’s climax there could be no stopping till the journey was completed.

I don’t read a lot of horror these days; most grandmas don’t. But when I make an exception, I want it to be damn good, and this book qualifies. Highly recommended to those that appreciate things that go bump in the night, and especially dragons.

The Old Fire, by Elisa Shua Dusapin***

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Elisa Shua Dusapin is the author of The Old Fire. My thanks go to NetGalley and Simon and Schuster for the invitation to read and review. This book is for sale now.

The promotional materials describe this brief work of literary fiction as the author’s “most personal and moving novel yet.” If that is truly the case, I don’t think I want to read her earlier work. It’s not a terrible novel necessarily, but given the hype, I am a little surprised. Someone else praised it as “subtle,” and I can vouch for its subtlety; but for me, it is a story in which I keep waiting for something to happen, and in the end, I’m still waiting.

In broad contours, it is a story in which our protagonist, Agathe, must return to the tiny hamlet in France in which she was raised following the death of her father. Her sister Vera is still there, but they haven’t seen one another in a long time. Her mother is alive, but the parents split up when she and Vera were children, and they don’t see her. She and Vera must deal with the estate, hence the title.

As Agathe returns to the house where she was raised, there are all sorts of issues hovering in the background. She is pregnant, deciding what to do about it; her sister Vera, who is mute due to some physical but unexplained cause, resents her for moving to New York when they were both still fairly young; Agathe has a partner back in New York that wants a commitment, but she holds him at arm’s length. She used to have a crush on a neighbor in their French village; does she still?

As the book ends, none of these things is addressed much. Agathe and Vera sort through their father’s effects and make decisions, not always agreeing; there’s a great deal of inner monologue; and when Agathe leaves to return to New York, nothing much has changed or been decided about anything. And I am left with questions and more questions. What’s with Vera’s mutism? Why don’t they and their mother talk? Agathe comes to France, and not even a phone call…? What does Agathe even think of the man back in New York that’s waiting for her?

I’m inclined to recommend this book to insomniacs as a sure cure, but it’s probably not that simple. I note that it was a huge hit in France, and has been translated into dozens of languages, yet most English-speaking readers seem as underwhelmed as I am, and so I have a hunch that my lack of enthusiasm may be cultural. But I can only report my own impressions, and my impressions say that this book is a snooze fest.

The Pelican Child, by Joy Williams***

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This is one of the few times that I’ve chosen a book based on its cover. I do like short stories, but I had no prior knowledge of Joy Williams’s writing. Sometimes when I take a chance, it leads to serendipity; on other occasions, it’s a case of reader’s regret. This time it’s not clearly either one, but I didn’t find the magic that other readers have found.

My thanks go to NetGalley and Knopf Publishing for the review copy. This book is for sale now.

There’s no question that Williams is a fine wordsmith; however, I prefer stories that have a clean, definite ending and a definable story arc. I didn’t find that here. Whereas the title story is my favorite, there is nothing here that makes me want to stand up and cheer—apart, of course, from the art on the cover. I expected a lot, based on the hype, and in the end, I am underwhelmed. If you decide to read this one, I recommend getting your copy cheaply or free unless your pockets are deep ones.

Wildwood, by Amy Pease*****

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“It was in the ratio of good to bad that monsters were distinguished from decent people.”

My thanks go to NetGalley and Atria Books for the invitation to read and review. This book is for sale now.

This book is the second in a new series by Amy Pease; this is her sophomore debut. I didn’t read the first, so I can tell you with certainty that you don’t have to, either. There are frequent enough references to the backstory here that I could follow it just fine, yet I also wondered why I was invited to read this one without having read the first. I’m over it. This is a terrific series, and when the third installment is written and available, I’ll be ready for it.

The setting is an idyllic small town in Wisconsin. “There was something in the water in Shaky Lake that turned even the toughest people into extras in a Hallmark movie.” Yet things are not as tranquil as they appear. A woman is reported missing, and the authorities that enter find blood spattered all over the walls, pooled on the mattress. Why would anyone do this to a young woman that lived alone in a singlewide trailer? But soon we see that nothing is as it appears.

Our protagonist is Deputy Sheriff Eli North, a recently deployed vet recovering from PTSD and alcoholism. I cringe when I read the latter, burned out as I am on alcoholic crime busters, but happily, booze is not at the forefront of this mystery. The sheriff, Eli’s boss, is also his mother. And this is a breath of fresh air; for a while, it seemed as if every mother in every book was a terrible person.

This is Eli’s investigation, but before we know it, the Feds are involved, too. Turns out that the missing woman—she of the blood-covered trailer—was also a confidential informant of the FBI. From there, the story unfurls in a way I find captivating. The ratio of crime-solving to character development is perfect. Whereas one has to suspend disbelief a little bit, it’s not more so than in most mysteries, and I like the way the ending plays out.

Highly recommended to mystery lovers.

Vigil, by George Saunders*****

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George Saunders is a luminary in the world of literary fiction. His latest novel, Vigil, tells the story of Jill Blaine, also called “Doll,” a formerly alive person who’s now tasked with escorting dying souls on Earth to their next destination.

My thanks go to NetGalley and Random House for the review copy. This book will be available to the public January 27, 2026.

Ms. Blaine, our protagonist, has been tapped hundreds of times to transition the dying to their next stop, but this time it’s different. Others needed to be comforted and consoled; KJ Boone, however, does not. He’s an oil company executive that has oh, so much for which to atone, but he doesn’t see it that way. Boone has more self-esteem, more rampant self-regard, than almost anyone else on the planet. So, in one sense, Blaine isn’t really needed, and yet she is.

Saunders writes some of the most whimsical prose I’ve read anywhere. This novel isn’t getting as much love from some other reviewers, and when I read what they have to say, a bit puzzled by the lukewarm responses, I see why. Saunders has written other books, in particular, two other massively successful novels, Lincoln in the Bardo and Tenth of December.  To reviewers that read and loved either of these, that is the standard to which he will forever be held. I have no such outsized yardstick by which to measure this writer. Both of those books are in my queue, but I haven’t read a word of either one yet, so I measure his novels by the same yardstick as I use for every other author, and frankly, that seems fairer to me.

Therefore, when Jill Blaine plummets to Earth headfirst and sinks nearly to her waist in the dirt, feet sticking up, then has to pull herself back out, I read it and laugh like hell.

I won’t give any of the plot away; this is a short book, after all, and you deserve to be surprised by everything that takes place inside it. However, in addition to its original and vast humor, the story examines some philosophical questions. What do we owe the world and its people? What is chosen, and what is inevitable? Humor is a great way to explore these issues, because we are confronted with them while we’re in a relaxed state; we don’t become defensive before a question is even asked.

Highly recommended to those that love fantasy and philosophy and can use a good, hearty laugh.