Tag Archives: fiction

A Good Animal, by Sara Maurer*****

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A Good Animal marks Sara Maurer’s debut, and it’s a damn good book, debut or otherwise. My thanks go to NetGalley and St. Martin’s Press for the invitation to read and review, and Macmillan Audio for the audio version. This book will be available to the public February 24, 2026.

Everett is a teenager living in a small farming community in the upper peninsula of Michigan near Sault-St. Marie. His life is almost perfect, but then the new girl arrives at school. Mary is smart, lovely and vibrant, but her dreams do not include sheep or living in the hinterlands. She wants to be an artist, and she’s talented. She figures she’ll stay for the end of high school, which won’t be long, and then she’ll head to art school out of state and shake the hay and sheep dung off her shoes.

Everett meets Mary, and Mary meets Everett.

This tender coming of age story is achingly poignant. The two fall in love; Mary hopes Everett may grow tired of that barn, and Everett hopes Mary will come to love upper Michigan. Those of us that are older and more sensible can see that neither of them will change their minds or hearts, but youth is all about hope, and the two are set on a collision course.

Meanwhile, Everett expands his knowledge of his family’s business. He invests all of his savings in a ram against his father’s advice so that he can breed sheep; but farming can be fickle, as most of us also know.

My review fails to convey the raw emotion that Maurer skillfully portrays. In addition, narrator Michael Crouch is a pitch perfect reader. I urge you to give this bittersweet novel your time and attention; you won’t regret it.

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.

The Briars, by Sarah Crouch*****

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In 2024 author Sarah Crouch made her novelistic debut with Middletide, a hauntingly atmospheric mystery set in her native Pacific Northwest. This year she’s produced The Briars, which shows that where Crouch is concerned, there’s no such thing as a sophomore slump.

My thanks go to NetGalley and Atria Books for the review copy. This book will be available to the public January 13, 2026.

Annie is an Oregon game warden, but a ruined relationship sends her packing across the border of Washington State to the isolated hamlet of (fictional) Lake Lumin. There she finds friendship and a measure of solace, as well as an unexpected connection with the area’s mystery man. But all of it threatens to come crashing down when a teenage girl is brutally murdered and left in the woods near his property.

I enjoyed Crouch’s debut novel, but I love this one even more. Crouch depicts the wilderness of Washington State flawlessly, and I can practically smell the evergreen trees and damp, decaying bark as I read. But The Briars is even more about character, and I feel I know Annie, the mystery man known as Daniel, and local ranger Jake intimately. I am sure by about the halfway mark that I know exactly whodunit, but I tell myself that I don’t mind because the narrative is so compelling. In the end, the joke is on me; I don’t already know who killed that girl, and yet the solution makes sense.

I highly recommend this outstanding mystery to all that love the genre.

https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/7803351642