💋 The Juicy Past (page-turning, historical fiction)

Where the Wildflowers Grow by Terah Shelton Harris

✔️Perfect for: Readers who want historical fiction with memorable women, secrets, resilience, and plenty to talk about afterward.
🚫 Not for: Readers who prefer quiet, prose-driven historical fiction where atmosphere matters more than plot.

The Young Will Remember by Eve J. Chung

✔️Perfect for: Readers who love sweeping historical fiction about family, women, survival, and lives shaped by major moments in history.
🚫Not for: Readers looking for a light historical escape or a narrowly focused story.

☕ Espresso at Midnight (Intellectual Fiction)

John of John by Douglas Stuart

✔️Perfect for: Readers who want beautiful writing, complicated characters, emotional depth, and a thought-provoking novel.
🚫Not for: Readers who need a fast-moving plot or a light, easy read.

Everything was Beautiful and Nothing Hurt by Ben Reeves

✔️Perfect for: Readers who love emotionally intelligent literary fiction about grief, family, memory, and the complicated ways people survive loss.

🚫Not for: Readers looking for something light, plot-driven, or emotionally easy.

💛 People Like Us (contemporary fiction)

The Burning Side by Sarah Damoff

✔️Perfect for: Readers who love messy families, complicated marriages, old wounds, forgiveness, and ordinary people making imperfect choices.
🚫 Not for: Readers who need big twists or characters who always behave well.

Into the Blue by Emma Brodie

✔️Perfect for: Readers who love complicated relationships, family secrets, gorgeous settings, old choices, and the emotional consequences that follow.
🚫 Not for: Readers looking for a really light plot.

The Shampoo Effect by Jenny Jackson

✔️Perfect for: Readers who love smart, buzzy contemporary fiction about messy people, and modern relationships.
🚫Not for: Readers who need sympathetic characters or a flawless plot.

🔪 A Killer Read

The Last to Drown by Noelle W. Ihli

✔️ Perfect for: Readers who want tension from the start, high survival stakes, and addictive reading material.
🚫 Not for: Readers who prefer cozy mysteries or slow-burn suspense.

Ransom by Daniel Silva

✔️Perfect for: Readers who like their thrillers smart, international, sophisticated, and packed with espionage, intrigue, and high stakes.
🚫 Not for: Readers looking for a domestic psychological thriller.

🌍 Open Borders

City of Widows by Nadia Hashimi

✔️ Perfect for: Readers who want fiction that transports them into another culture while exploring women, friendship, motherhood, politics, and survival.
🚫 Not for: Readers looking for something light or removed from difficult political realities.

🧶 Cardigans in July

Agnes Aubert’s Mystical Cat Shelter by Heather Fawcett

✔️Perfect for: Readers craving something warm, whimsical, magical, and populated by quirky characters.
🚫Not for: Readers who need realism, high stakes, or lots of plot twists.

🪽 Fiction With Wings

Fishbone Cinderella by Elizabeth Lim

✔️Perfect for: Readers who love folklore, fairy tales reimagined, immersive worlds, complicated mother-daughter relationships, and fantasy rooted in culture and history.

🚫Not for: Readers who want contemporary fantasy, sarcastic romance-y characters, or a straightforward Cinderella retelling.

💘 Love, Actually

Phoebe Berman’s Gonna Lose It by Brooke Averick

✔️ Perfect for: Readers who want romance with funny and messy characters who absolutely do not have their lives figured out.
🚫 Not for: Readers looking for sweeping, earnest romance without a lot of comedy.

Our Perfect Storm by Carley Fortune 🇨🇦

✔️Perfect for: Readers who want an emotional, summery love story with chemistry, yearning, complicated history, and plenty of heart.
🚫Not for: Readers who prefer cynical romance, minimal emotion, or plot over relationships.

🕰 Fragments in Time

The Seven Daughters of Dupree by Nikesha Elise Williams

✔️Perfect for: Readers who love multigenerational family sagas about women, sisterhood, legacy, secrets, and the ways history reverberates through a family.
🚫Not for: Readers who dislike multiple generations, family histories, or stories that take their time unfolding.

The Calamity Club by Kathryn Stockett

✔️ Perfect for: Readers who want page-turning historical fiction with memorable women, secrets, resilience, and plenty to talk about afterward.
🚫 Not for: Readers who prefer quiet, prose-driven historical fiction where atmosphere matters more than plot.

Let me know what you’re reading in the comments and please forward this list to the readers in your life!

Happy Reading,

Andrea

As a little kid, I pushed the back of my wooden wardrobe knowing, rationally, that there would be no Narnia on the other side.

But, what if there was a tiny chance that there was? It’s the what if of novels, of movies, of TV shows, of any type of storytelling, that grabs me.

Clearly, I’ve always loved stories. I was trying to put into words why I get so immersed, and here’s my theory:

As an adult who saturates myself with philosophy, politics, media theory, literature, podcasts and think pieces, beautiful, emotionally comforting stories are like a juice cleanse for the mind.

Rewatching isn’t laziness; it’s relieving the part of my brain that runs a business, tracks politics, analyzes, and informs. Sometimes I crave a simple story that has more depth than originally appears.

Titanic: the first comfort rewatch
When I was seventeen, a disaster movie that you may have heard of premiered in December of 1997: it took possession of teenaged girls in a way The Beatles had. Titanic told the doomed love story of Jack and Rose, set against the infamous tragedy of the ironically unsinkable ship.

In November of the year before, Baz Luhrmann had introduced teen girls to Leonardo DiCaprio as Romeo Montague in Romeo + Juliet, the ultimate yearning boy story. The setup was perfect.

As Titanic jumped to the credits, I was transfixed: While the Irish tin whistle came on in the opening notes of Celine Dion’s “The Heart Will Go On”, I sat in stunned silence.

I knew I needed to go through that entire arc of emotions, from beginning to end: from the time they board the ship as two characters from different classes, to the first time they notice each other, to the time he brings out the real her, to the time he sinks waaaay down into the ocean.

So I went to see it for a second time. And a third. And a fourth. I saw Titanic a whopping eleven times in the theatres. Whenever I found a person who hadn’t seen it, I offered to bring them. My parents were concerned.

I learned every word, every actor’s facial micro-expression, and every music cue over that 33 ½ hours.

Looking back, I realize that the story held all of my teenaged hopes and dreams: to meet my Jack and live a perfectly happily ever after. At the time, that story was my projected future.

The strange thing was that I never watched it again once I got whatever it was I needed to get from that specific story.

Bridgerton as pandemic comfort
In December 2020, the world was in the midst of a global pandemic: connection with others aside from our immediate family unit was relegated to FaceTimes and Zooms, while we were quarantined within our four walls.

When Bridgerton premiered on Christmas of that same year, they hit the jackpot.
The steamy adaptation of the book series by Julia Quinn focused on each of the Bridgerton siblings as they found true love in a sexier version of the Victorian era.

The first season shot Regé-Jean Page to fame as the Duke with Daddy issues who conjures up a fake dating scheme to get people interested in Daphne Bridgerton. They obviously fall for each other in the process.

The show centred the female experience in a way that huge, popular romances didn’t do.

So I sat down to watch. And then re-watch. And then I couldn’t get enough.

My (unknowingly) shot nervous system was open to a reset by way of violin adaptations of popular songs, lush costumes, and one very handsome man.

I needed a break from the doomscrolling, and Bridgerton was like a much-needed hit of something rich and comforting: just beautiful emotions and a fan base to discuss them with.

I did doubt myself back then: was I a parasocial weirdo?

I started researching articles about the need to rewatch until my husband said:

“Stop being so hard on yourself. You love the show and you’re enjoying re-watching it. Who cares?”

Eventually, the need to watch it disappeared, and I haven’t seen that season since.

This made me think about why some stories arrive for specific moments in our lives and leave after serving their purpose.

Off Campus as current comfort rewatch
ast forward to 2026, when Off Campus has many women losing their minds. I watched it in one sitting on a day I was sick in bed and, you guessed it, kept rewatching.

At this more analytical stage, I was aware that my nervous system needed a reset.

There’s so much going on in the world, delivered daily through algorithms that, no matter how many times we change them, seem to creep back in. Things seem unstable, hate is everywhere, people don’t dialogue about anything, kids have been introduced to AI, etc. etc. etc.

So, I re-watched while cooking and exercising and when I got into bed.

I immersed myself in Reddit and reels on Instagram with no guilt: I let myself indulge in reaction threads and memes with intelligent people analyzing scenes and rewatching.

As Esther Perel says: this a collective, corrective experience.

This time, I realized how much I do during most of the year, so it felt less like time-wasting and more like cleansing my brain of the heavy news of bad things happening around the world.

The show made me happy that young teens can now have this as a model of what it is to listen, to be present, to really see someone for who they are. These are the ingredients that make for a beautiful partnership.

I don’t think all women are rewatching the show because they’re not satisfied; it also brings us back to that feeling that we don’t have anymore: pure freedom, when the only thing we had to worry about was which outfit to wear.

This complete immersion in the story brings us back to a different, exciting time (without the regular heartache, confusion, and more that filled our twenties).

Stories have always served a purpose: they get us to feel things and think differently. It being a romance show doesn’t negate its ability to make us think. If people can participate in fandoms for hockey and soccer, why not for books and TV shows and movies?

For a period, Titanic held my teenage hopes, Bridgerton relieved me from my pandemic panic, and Off Campus offered me both nostalgia from midlife and exhaustion, and a complete reset to tackle the heavier consumption of media going forward.

Stories hold our hands for periods we don’t want to manage alone, then release us once we’re ready to move into a new version of ourselves.

I see now, that I metaphorically push the back of the wardrobe still.

Just with the play button instead.

My answer is almost always another question: “What was the last book you loved?” and “Which book didn’t you like?”

Because if you adore Beach Read, I’m going to recommend something very different than if you couldn’t put down The Silent Patient.

Our reading taste isn’t just “good” or “bad”...it’s specific. What you’re in the mood for now matters more than any list of “bests.”

With that in mind, I’ve pulled together a lineup of new and upcoming releases that I’m especially excited about for this summer: from swoony romances to dark psychological thrillers to big, literary fiction.

Here are some of summer’s buzziest new titles to watch for (and who I think will love them).

If You Loved Bridgerton:

then read...

The Very Definition of Love by Sophia Benoit

Perfect for: Readers who love witty historical romance packed with sharp banter, marriage-of-convenience tension, and a delightful wallflower-meets-rake dynamic.

Not for: Readers looking for dark, angsty romance or historical realism over sparkling chemistry.

If you loved Sweet Heat

then read…

Yes, Chef by Grace Reilly

Perfect for: Readers who crave a high-temperature workplace romance filled with intense kitchen proximity, playful culinary banter, and a mouthwatering slow-burn chemistry that completely takes over.

Not for: Readers who prefer sweet, low-steam contemporary romances.

If you loved Beach Read

then read…

Tropesick by Lauren Okie

Perfect for: Readers who adore meta, bookish romances filled with emotional depth, second-chances, and the vulnerability of two people healing from a shared past tragedy while writing a love story together.

Not for: Readers looking for a light, superficial romantic comedy or high-concept fantasy.

If you loved The Silent Patient

then read…

Keep Them Close by David Ellis

Perfect for: Readers who love psychological thrillers packed with unreliable narrators, complex legal puzzles, and plot twists that force you to re-evaluate everything you just read.

Not for: Readers who prefer a straightforward, slow-burn police procedural or a light, low-stakes mystery.

If you loved Pride and Prejudice,

then read…

Leave and Come Back by Lavanya Lakshmi

Perfect for: Readers who adore a “comedy of manners”, family hijinks, and the chaos of a massive, multi-week traditional wedding where a new boyfriend has to go undercover as a stranger to win over a super-judgmental matriarch.

Not for: Readers looking for a slow-burn, solitary, or dark and angsty romance.

If you loved The Devil Wears Prada

Then read:

The Tuxedo Society by Paul Rudnick

Perfect for: Readers who live for social satire, elite high-society drama, and razor-sharp wit that skewers the absurdly wealthy and their eccentric circles.

Not for: Readers looking for a serious, grounded contemporary drama or a dark, gritty psychological thriller.

If you loved Seven Days in June

Then read:

Score by Kennedy Ryan

Perfect for: Readers who crave a deeply emotional, sweeping second-chance romance packed with intense history, artistic passion, and palpable romantic friction as an award-winning screenwriter and a musical prodigy reunite on a high-profile movie set after a devastating college breakup.

Not for: Readers looking for a light, low-stakes contemporary rom-com or a quick, superficial sports romance; this is a heavy, beautifully written, and profoundly human story about healing and forgiveness.

If you loved The Daevabad Trilogy

Then read:

The Tapestry of Fate by Shannon Chakraborty

Perfect for: Readers who crave richly textured, historical fantasy and epic world-building packed with intricate political intrigue, ancient magic, and clever protagonists navigating high-stakes destinies.

Not for: Readers looking for a light, modern urban fantasy or a simple, straightforward adventure story with low-stakes conflict.

If you loved Vera Wong’s Unsolicited Advice for Murder

then read:

Moonlight Murder by Uzma Jalaluddin

Perfect for: Readers who love charming, cozy mysteries with an observant amateur sleuth, and heavy family dynamics, where a neighborhood “Aunty” tackles a fresh crime that unravels decades-old secrets.

Not for: Readers looking for dark, true-crime thrillers, violent procedurals, or gritty psychological suspense.

If You Loved The Thursday Murder Club

Then read:

How to Cheat Your Own Death by Kristen Perrin

Perfect for: Readers who love quirky, clever mysteries packed with eccentric characters, dark humor, family secrets, and amateur sleuthing. Ideal for fans of witty whodunits where the puzzle is just as important as the personalities.

Not for: Readers seeking gritty crime fiction, graphic violence, or hard-boiled detective stories; the tone leans more toward clever and entertaining than dark and disturbing.

If you loved Daisy Jones & The Six

Then read:

Into the Blue by Emma Brodie

Perfect for: Readers who crave transportive storytelling packed with artistic passion, complex relationship dynamics, and the messy realities of chasing a dream under the bright lights of fame.

Not for: Readers looking for a fast-paced, plot-driven action thriller or a light, uncomplicated contemporary rom-com.

If you loved The Midnight Library

then read…

The Midnight Train by Matt Haig

Perfect for: Readers looking for an emotional, comforting, and philosophical story about second chances, memory, and the unseen threads connecting our lives, told with a magical-realist twist.

Not for: Readers who want a fast-paced, plot-driven mystery or heavy, tech-focused science fiction.

If you loved The American Heiress,

then read…

The Windsor Affair by Melanie Benjamin

Perfect for: Fans of royal history, glamorous historical fiction, social intrigue, scandal, and well researched stories about power, privilege, and public image.

Not for: Readers looking for gritty historical realism.

If you loved Atomic Habits

then read…

Flourish by Daniel Coyle

Perfect for: Readers interested in leadership, teamwork, organizational culture, peak performance, and the science behind human collaboration.

Not for: Readers seeking simple self-help formulas or motivational slogans; this is research-driven and idea-focused.

If you loved Native Speaker or The Namesake

then read…

A Tender Age by Chang-rae Lee

Perfect for: Fans of literary coming-of-age novels that explore immigration, family, belonging, and the unexpected consequences of seemingly ordinary events.

Not for: Readers seeking high-concept premises or fast pacing; the focus is on character and emotional depth.

If you loved My Year of Rest and Relaxation

then read…

Lost Lambs by Madeline Cash

Perfect for: Readers who appreciate psychologically complex literary fiction examining anxiety, identity, social pressures, and the strange undercurrents of modern life.

Not for: Readers looking for clear-cut mysteries or conventional narrative structures.

If you loved The Chestnut Man

then read…

138 Main by Gavin Bell

Perfect for: Fans of high-concept, fast-paced thrillers who love serial-killer hunts, ticking-clock investigations, and premises that hook you from page one.

Not for: Readers who prefer slow-burn psychological suspense or character-driven literary mysteries over action and momentum.

If you loved Hamnet

then read:

Land by Maggie O’Farrell

Perfect for: Lovers of lyrical literary fiction who appreciate atmospheric historical settings, family relationships, Irish history, and touches of myth woven into emotional storytelling.

Not for: Readers seeking fast-moving plots or thriller-style pacing; this is immersive, reflective, and beautifully crafted.

If you loved Red, White & Royal Blue

then read:

Father Material by Alexis Hall

Perfect for: Fans of witty, heartfelt romantic comedies who want sharp banter, emotional growth, found family, and a lovable couple navigating the next stage of life together.

Not for: Readers looking for high-drama romance or intense relationship angst; the appeal here is warmth, humor, and character chemistry.

If you loved Carrie Soto

then read…

The Open Era by Edward Schmit

Perfect for: Fans of emotionally charged sports fiction and LGBTQ+ romance who love stories about ambition, anxiety, rivalry, and falling in love under intense public scrutiny.

Not for: Readers uninterested in tennis, competitive sports, or relationship-centered narratives.

If you loved A Tale for the Time Being

then read:

The Typing Lady by Ruth Ozeki

Perfect for: Readers who appreciate thoughtful literary fiction exploring identity, creativity, connection, and the surprising moments that shape a life.

Not for: Readers seeking a single, fast-moving narrative; this is a contemplative story collection built around character and insight.

If you loved Beautiful Ruins

then read…

Villa Coco by Andrew Sean Greer

Perfect for: Fans of witty literary fiction featuring eccentric characters, gorgeous settings, sharp humor, and moving reflections on aging, purpose, and reinvention.

Not for: Readers looking for dark, serious drama or tightly plotted suspense.

If you loved The Henna Artist

then read…

Daughters of the Sun and Moon by Lisa See

Perfect for: Fans of immersive historical fiction who love stories of female friendship, resilience, immigration, and overlooked chapters of Chinese American history.

Not for: Readers who prefer fast-paced thrillers or lighter historical fiction without emotional weight.

If you loved The Bright Years

then read…

The Burning Side by Sarah Damoff

Perfect for: Readers who love emotionally layered family dramas examining marriage, long-term relationships, obligation, grief, and the complicated ties that bind generations together.

Not for: Readers seeking escapist fiction or fast-paced plots; this is intimate, character-driven storytelling.

If you loved The Paper Palace

then read…

Girl’s Girl by Sonia Feldman

Perfect for: Fans of coming-of-age literary fiction exploring female friendship, identity, desire, and the formative summers that shape who we become.

Not for: Readers looking for action, suspense, or plot-heavy storytelling; the focus is on voice, relationships, and emotional nuance.

Liked this one? Forward this email to a friend, or share the web version with your book group so they can subscribe too!

The holidays meant participating in the songs, listening to our thoughtful rabbi offer advice in a world in turmoil, and seeing people we only saw once a year.

Growing up and attending a Jewish day school, some families kept kosher, some didn’t. Some went to synagogue on Shabbat but used technology. Some didn’t do any of that.

Judaism, at least as I experienced it, was both a religion and a culture, with room for all of those contradictions.

Some Jews participate culturally through social justice, others through ritual; some never go to synagogue but still know all of the prayers.

If there’s one thing that May, Jewish Heritage Month, reminds me of, and one thing to understand about Jews, it’s that we are not one thing.

What people miss when they reduce Jews (or any group) to politics is my entire backstory, essentially everything that made me me.

Jewish Heritage Month includes Moroccan Jews arguing with Lithuanian Jews over what to cook for the holidays. It’s Jews from around the world sharing jokes and arguing and listening and not listening and talking and talking and talking.

Jewish Heritage Month is an Israeli-born mother (to parents recently traumatized by the war) who emigrated to Canada at nine months and a Canadian-born father who had grown up Orthodox but changed his views over the years.

One side of my family descended from Bundists, socialist Jews living in British-mandated Palestine. The other side came from Lithuania, once a hub of Ashkenazi intellectual and cultural life.

Some family members believed in G‑d, some did not.

When asked why we celebrated holidays, the answer was “because my father did.” That explanation was enough.

Jewish Heritage Month means cousins who protest against the government and cousins who find it horrifying. It means siblings who are atheist but still sing along to the tunes at the seder table. Left-wing, progressive, right-wing, you name it, we got it.

Being Jewish meant a grandfather who fought in WWII against the Nazis in an elite US-American special service force otherwise known as the Devil’s Brigade (fun fact: Lt. Aldo Raine in Inglourious Basterds is wearing the insignia). My grandfather hated being called a hero. He said he would have done what anyone else would to defend our country’s freedoms. He experienced some antisemitism in the army but chose not to let it define him. He strongly disliked the view of Jews as victims.

In the same way Judaism represented pride and resistance, it also represented loss.
It meant two Lithuanian grandparents who had lost multiple family members in WWII and who had escaped by hiding in a potato hole. My mother never knew her grandparents. They were all murdered.

The Jewish survivors of the Holocaust were not openly welcomed by all Jews when they immigrated to Canada. Assimilated Jews were embarrassed by them. The Jewish story contains multitudes, even in how Jews see one another.

The parts of Jewish life that don’t make headlines? Almost all of it.

The arguments over whether to add turnips to chicken soup. The humour used to mask pain and to relish life. The debates over politics. The importance of education and the belief in something good, despite everything.

And where does the truth live in life?

As my mother taught me, it lives in the middle, in the gray, between the black and the white.

What books can do that social media can’t is give you a sustained, personal perspective on something. As Atticus Finch famously said, you need to walk around in another person’s shoes, and there’s no better way of doing so than through reading.

Practicing nuance takes effort. It runs counter to the speed and ease of social media right now.

Books are not only a form of escape. They are a form of hope: hope for understanding, for dialogue, and for peace.

Not because they offer answers, but because they make space for better questions.

It’s time to stop asking, “Which side are you on?” and instead ask, “What makes people who they are?”

For this, here is my list of books for Jewish Heritage Month.

The books I would recommend to non-Jews right now

When We See You Again by Rachel Goldberg-Polin
Perfect for: Readers seeking a deeply human entry point into grief, hope, resilience, and the emotional aftermath of October 7 through the eyes of one family’s experience.
Not for: Readers looking for geopolitics.

The Choice
Perfect for: Readers drawn to memoirs about survival, trauma, healing, resilience, and what it means to choose hope after unimaginable loss.
Not for: Readers wanting emotional distance or a lighter Holocaust memoir.

The books that represent where I grew up

Barney’s Version by Mordecai Richler
Perfect for: Readers who love sharp humour, flawed narrators, Montreal Jewish life, and cynical brilliance with heart underneath.
Not for: Readers who need likeable protagonists or tidy morality.

The Apprenticeship of Duddy Kravitz by Mordecai Richler
Perfect for: Readers interested in ambition, old Montreal, St. Urbain Street energy, and complicated dreamers.
Not for: Readers looking for warm nostalgia or morally straightforward characters.

St. Urbain’s Horseman by Mordecai Richler
Perfect for: Readers who enjoy literary family stories, identity questions, and Jewish Montreal rendered on an epic scale.
Not for: Readers wanting a quick plot-driven read.

Beautiful Losers by Leonard Cohen
Perfect for: Readers who love experimental, poetic, strange literary fiction and Montreal mythology.
Not for: Readers who prefer conventional narratives.

The Favourite Game by Leonard Cohen
Perfect for: Readers seeking lyrical coming-of-age stories and a beautiful portrait of Montreal.
Not for: Readers who need strong pacing over atmosphere.

The books that taught me a different perspective

Kantika by Elizabeth Graver
Perfect for: Readers interested in Sephardic Jewish history, multigenerational stories, migration, and overlooked perspectives.
Not for: Readers seeking fast-paced plots over family history.

The Last Kabbalist of Lisbon (The Sephardic Cycle #1)
Perfect for: Readers interested set during the Lisbon massacre of 1506, that explores identity, hidden Jewish life, faith, exile, and survival.

Not for: Readers looking for light historical fiction or a fast, modern-feeling thriller.

Homesick by Eshkol Nevo

Perfect for: Fans of contemporary literary fiction that exlpores layered identities, moral ambiguity, and stories that sit inside complexity rather than resolve it.

Not for: Readers looking for fast plots, clear political arguments, or high drama. This is more about emotional currents, relationships, and what history leaves behind.

The Jewish books I wish I had written

The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay by Michael Chabon
Perfect for: Readers who love books about creators, found family, ambition, old New York, and literary adventures that feel both epic and deeply human.

Not for: Readers looking for fast pacing or tightly contained plots.

The History of Love by Nicole Krauss
Perfect for: Readers who love literary puzzles, memory, longing, humour, and books about books.
Not for: Readers who dislike fragmented timelines.

The books that Slay Me

To the End of the Land
Perfect for: Readers who want emotionally devastating literary fiction about fatherhood, fear, war, and love.
Not for: Readers seeking emotional protection.

A Tale of Love and Darkness
Perfect for: Readers who appreciate memoir, history, family complexity, and luminous writing.
Not for: Readers wanting uplifting endings.

Hidden treasures

Etgar Keret (Suddenly, a Knock on the Door, Fly Already)
Perfect for: Readers who enjoy absurdism, dark humour, surrealism, and very short stories with emotional bite.
Not for: Readers who prefer realism and traditional plots.

As a Jew by Sarah Hurwitz
Perfect for: Readers interested in essays on identity, belonging, culture, and modern Jewish life.
Not for: Readers seeking straightforward memoir.

The Jew in the Lotus
Perfect for: Readers fascinated by spirituality, interfaith dialogue, and Jewish identity in conversation with Buddhism.
Not for: Readers wanting conventional religious writing.

Holocaust / old world / history

The Shawl by Cynthia Ozick
Perfect for: Readers who appreciate devastating literary precision and powerful short works.
Not for: Readers looking for emotional distance.

We Were the Lucky Ones by Georgia Hunter
Perfect for: Readers who love page-turning family sagas, survival stories, and historical fiction.
Not for: Readers looking to avoid tears.

The World of Yesterday
Perfect for: Readers interested in vanished worlds, European Jewish history, and elegant memoir.
Not for: Readers seeking fast pacing.

The book that helped me hold two truths at once

My Promised Land by Ari Shavit
Perfect for: Readers willing to sit with contradiction, moral complexity, and competing narratives.
Not for: Readers looking for simple answers, ideological certainty, or a purely academic history.

More Book Recs:

The Weight of Ink
Perfect for: Readers who love intellectual historical fiction, hidden manuscripts, philosophy, and ambitious literary mysteries.
Not for: Readers intimidated by long, layered novels.

The Color of Water
Perfect for: Readers who love memoir, identity stories, family history, and beautifully layered narratives.
Not for: Readers wanting linear storytelling only.

Out of Egypt: A Memoir by André Aciman
Perfect for: Readers who love memoir, exile stories, memory, place, family history, and lush literary writing. This is a gorgeous portrait of Aciman’s Sephardic Jewish family in cosmopolitan Alexandria, capturing a vanished world of multiple languages, cultures, and identities.
Not for: Readers looking for a conventional plot or high drama.

Welcome to the Book Dumpling Dispatch! 📚

For over 12 years, I’ve matched readers with books based not only on genre, but on personality, mood, and reading style using what I affectionately call my “inner algorithm.”

Some readers want literary fiction that lingers. Others want page turners, romance, armchair travel, memoir, comfort, or emotional devastation.

The secret: Everyone’s a reader. You just need the right book.

☕️ Espresso at Midnight

Perfect for: Readers who love literary fiction, philosophical questions, and books that linger.
Not for: Readers looking for plot-driven stories or neat emotional payoffs.

☕️ Life & Death & Giants by Ron Rindo
Perfect for: Readers who love tender, quietly philosophical fiction about ordinary lives, aging, and friendship.
Not for: Readers who need fast pacing, high drama, or constant plot twists to stay engaged.

More titles:

☕️ Seascraper by Benjamin Wood
Perfect for: Fans of atmospheric literary fiction and quietly unsettling stories where place becomes a character.
Not for: Readers seeking straightforward realism or fast-moving plots; this leans into mood, ambiguity, and slow-building tension.

☕️ Flesh by David Szalay
Perfect for: Readers who appreciate psychologically sharp literary fiction examining masculinity, desire, class, ambition, and the uneasy relationship between the body and identity.
Not for: Readers seeking comfort or uplift; the tone is intimate, unsparing, and deeply observant.

☕️ Martyr! by Kaveh Akbar
Perfect for: Fans of poetic, intellectually rich, satiric fiction exploring grief, addiction, faith, art, and the search for meaning.
Not for: Readers who prefer straightforward, plot-driven narratives over meditative, philosophical storytelling.

👥 People Like Us

Perfect for: fans of contemporary novels that capture the colourful, messy realities of family and relationships.
Not for: Anyone who would rather escape than read about flawed families and real-world emotions.

👥 Leave Your Mess at Home by Tolani Akinola
Perfect for: Readers interested in stories about immigrant daughters, career ambition, identity performance, and the pressure to compartmentalize personal chaos.
Not for: Readers looking for high-stakes thriller pacing. The tension here is social, emotional, and internal.

More titles:

👥 Spectacular Things by Beck Dorey-Stein
Perfect for: Anyone who loves page-turning family dramas involving sisters, grief, ambition, and resilience.
Not for: Readers looking for highly intellectual fiction, lighter themes, or small-town settings.

👥 Members Only by Sameer Pandya
Perfect for: Readers who enjoy witty, satirical fiction about race, status, suburban privilege, academia, and the subtle social performances behind everyday interactions.
Not for: Readers who prefer earnest, morally straightforward narratives without irony or social critique.

👥 The Girls Who Grew Big by Leila Mottley
Perfect for: Fans of powerful coming-of-age stories centred on friendship, motherhood, and resilience.
Not for: Readers sensitive to gritty portrayals of teen pregnancy, poverty, and darker, realistic subject matter.

💋 The Juicy Past

Perfect for: readers who love historical fiction dripping with intrigue, forbidden romance, and drama.
Not for: Those who prefer slow-burning writing over juicy plots and dramatic turns.

💋 One Good Thing by Georgia Hunter
Perfect for: Fans of emotionally immersive historical fiction centred on Jewish life, found family, survival, and resistance in war-torn Italy.
Not for: Readers uncomfortable with deprivation, violence, loss, or emotionally intense wartime narratives.

More titles:

💋 Where the Rivers Merge by Mary Alice Monroe
Perfect for: Fans of sprawling Southern family sagas exploring land, legacy, nature, resilience, and the emotional ties between generations.
Not for: Readers wanting nonstop action, single-timeline storytelling, or breezy beach-read pacing.

💋 Shanghai Girls by Lisa See
Perfect for: Readers who love sweeping historical family sagas about sisterhood, immigration, sacrifice, survival, and rebuilding life across generations and continents.
Not for: Readers wanting concise storytelling or emotionally lightweight historical fiction.

💋 Keeper of Lost Children by Sadeqa Johnson
Perfect for: Fans of fiction exploring wartime secrets, survival, motherhood, resilience, and the overlooked stories of women during instability.
Not for: Readers feeling fatigued by WWII narratives or emotionally heavy historical fiction.

🕰 Fragments in Time

Perfect for: Fans of literary historical fiction with exquisite prose and characters who stay with you.
Not for: Readers who prefer pace over language.

🕰️ The Correspondent by Virginia Evans
Perfect for: Readers who love sweeping family sagas, epistolary storytelling, rich character work, and emotionally layered stories spanning decades and multiple lives.
Not for: Readers seeking tightly focused plots, fast pacing, or highly streamlined storytelling.

More titles:

🕰️Red Clay by Charles B. Fancher
Perfect for: Readers who love expansive historical family sagas examining race, inheritance, generational trauma, resilience, and the enduring legacy of slavery and injustice.
Not for: Readers seeking emotionally light escapism or uncomplicated historical narratives.

🕰️ The Safekeeping by Yael van der Wouden
Perfect for: Fans of unsettling, morally complex literary fiction exploring repression, desire, guilt, inheritance, and the psychological aftermath of war.
Not for: Readers seeking emotional comfort, clear moral resolution, or straightforward historical storytelling.

🕰️ The Names by Florence Knapp
Perfect for: Readers who appreciate lyrical, introspective fiction exploring identity, regret, memory, and the fragile stories we construct about ourselves.
Not for: Readers who wish to avoid topics of domestic violence, and severe physical and emotional spousal abuse.

💕 Love, Actually?

Perfect for: readers who revel in the sparks and challenges of contemporary relationships.
Not for: Fans of pure fluff or spice with zero substance.

💕 Our Perfect Storm by Carley Fortune
Perfect for: Fans of atmospheric summer romances featuring nostalgia, longing, friends-to-lovers, and emotionally charged chemistry.
Not for: Readers who prefer fast pacing over reflective, relationship-centred storytelling.

Other Titles:

💕 Good Grief by Sara Goodman Confino
Perfect for: Readers who enjoy witty women’s fiction balancing humor, grief, family chaos, and emotional resilience.
Not for: Readers seeking purely light comedy; heavier emotional themes lie beneath the humor.

💕 Sweet Heat by Bolu Babalola
Perfect for: Fans of vibrant, emotionally rich contemporary romance featuring sharp dialogue, cultural depth, and chemistry.
Not for: Readers looking for closed-door romance or emotionally restrained relationships; the emotional and romantic stakes take center stage.

💕 Between Friends & Lovers by Shirlene Obuobi
Perfect for: Readers who enjoy smart, contemporary romance balancing friendship, ambition, family expectations, and emotional vulnerability.
Not for: Readers seeking purely fluffy romance without deeper emotional stakes.

🧶 Cardigans in July

Perfect for: fans of cozy, big-hearted reads that offer comfort and hope.
Not for: Readers looking for dark twists, relentless tension, or emotionally brutal stories.

🧶 Lula Dean’s Library of Banned Books by Kristen Miller
Perfect for: Fans of bookish fiction, hopeful community stories, and uplifting novels about books, belonging, and standing up for justince.
Not for: Readers who dislike whimsical small-town settings or lighter, community-driven narratives.

🧶 Florence Adler Swims Forever by Rachel Beanland
Perfect for: Readers who love heartfelt historical fiction, family stories, and emotionally rich novels about grief, resilience, and love.
Not for: Readers who avoid bittersweet themes or emotionally-layered family dynamics.

🧶 The Door-to-Door Bookstore by Carsten Henn
Perfect for: Book lovers who adore gentle stories about community, connection, and the quiet ways reading changes lives.
Not for: Readers seeking high drama, fast pacing, or intense romance.

🧶 Twice by Mitch Albom
Perfect for: Readers who enjoy magical realism, second chances, big life questions, and emotionally reflective stories about regret and redemption.
Not for: Readers looking for a straightforward or purely optimistic ending; consequences and heartbreak remain part of the journey.

🌎 Open Borders

Perfect for: Lovers of literary stories that cross countries, cultures, and languages.

🌎 A Guardian and a Thief by Megha Majumdar
Perfect for: Fans of socially-conscious literary fiction exploring corruption, survival, class, and impossible moral choices within contemporary India.
Not for: Readers who avoid slower-paced, allegorical political themes or difficult social realities.

Other Titles:

🌎 The Shadow of the Wind by Carlos Ruiz Zafón
Perfect for: Bibliophiles who crave atmospheric, bookish literary mysteries set in the gothic streets of post-war Barcelona.
Not for: Readers who find intricate plots, layered timelines, or mysteries difficult to navigate.

🌎 Girl at War by Sara Nović
Perfect for: Fans of deeply moving, identity-driven fiction that explores the long-term psychological fallout of childhood trauma, survival, and memory during the Yugoslav Civil War.
Not for: Anyone looking for a low-stakes wartime read; the emotional and physical realities of conflict are front and center.

🌎 The House of the Spirits by Isabel Allende
Perfect for: Fans of sweeping magical realism blending family saga, political upheaval, passion, spirituality, and Chilean history through generations of unforgettable women.
Not for: Readers who prefer less violence, minimalist prose, or linear historical narratives.

🔥 Plot Junkies

Perfect for: Readers who love fast pacing, high stakes, emotional momentum, and books that make them ignore their bedtime.
Not for: Readers looking for quiet, introspective literary fiction or stories driven more by atmosphere and ideas than plot.

🔥 The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue by V.E. Schwab
Perfect for: Lovers of time-traveling historical narratives featuring a decades-spanning game of cat-and-mouse, an immortal protagonist, and a deeply unconventional romance.
Not for: High-fantasy purists looking for complex magic systems, sprawling world-building, or epic political stakes; the supernatural element here is quiet, intimate, and focused on a personal curse.

More Titles:

🔥 We Begin at the End by Chris Whitaker
Perfect for: Readers who love crime fiction with a literary heart, rich atmosphere, unforgettable characters, and an emotional core centered on family and redemption.
Not for: Readers seeking a traditional procedural or puzzle-driven mystery.

🔥 All the Ugly and Wonderful Things by Bryn Greenwood
Perfect for: Readers willing to sit in moral gray areas and explore a dark, emotionally complex story about trauma, survival, unconventional love, and the ways people seek connection.
Not for: Anyone sensitive to highly controversial themes or looking for clear moral boundaries, traditional relationships, or a comfortable reading experience.

🔥 The Midnight Library by Matt Haig
Perfect for: Readers who love fast-moving, high-concept fiction that explores regret, parallel lives, and the infinite choices that shape a human existence.
Not for: Anyone seeking a slow, dense literary puzzle; the narrative is highly accessible, emotionally urgent, and driven by immediate momentum.

🔪 A Killer Read

Perfect for: Readers who love suspense, psychological tension, shocking reveals, and books that keep them saying “just one more chapter.”
Not for: Readers looking for cozy, comforting stories or literary fiction that prioritizes introspection over plot.

🔪 Anatomy of an Alibi by Ashley Elston
Perfect for: Fans of addictive suspense built around shifting identities, deception, secrets, and constantly escalating tension.
Not for: Readers who prefer slower, low-stakes crime fiction.

More Titles:

🔪 A Box Full of Darkness by Simone St. James
Perfect for: Readers who love pulse-pounding supernatural thrillers filled with family trauma, ghostly tension, and long-buried disappearances returning to haunt the present.

🔪 This Story Might Save Your Life by Tiffany Crum
Perfect for: Fans of twisty suspense blending romance, mystery, and psychological tension with page-turning momentum.
Not for: Readers seeking a straightforward romance without thriller elements.

🔪 My Husband’s Wife by Alice Feeney
Perfect for: Readers who devour addictive psychological thrillers featuring unreliable narrators, dark secrets, and shocking reveals.
Not for: Readers who need morally upright or highly likable protagonists.

📝 Our Messy Lives

Perfect for: Readers who love memoir, family stories, personal transformation, resilience, and books that explore the messy parts of life.

📝 Strangers: A Memoir of Marriage by Belle Burden
Perfect for: Readers who appreciate intimate relationship memoirs exploring marriage, identity, intimacy, and the quiet ways people can become strangers to one another over time.
Not for: Readers seeking a lighthearted romance memoir or neatly resolved relationship lessons.

More Titles:

📝 A Clean Mess: A Memoir of Sobriety After a Lifetime of Being Numb by Tiffany Jenkins
Perfect for: Readers looking for brutally honest addiction memoirs filled with dark humor, vulnerability, relapse, and hard-won recovery.
Not for: Readers seeking a polished inspirational arc without setbacks or uncomfortable truths.

📝 The River’s Daughter by Bridget Crocker
Perfect for: Readers who love wilderness memoirs centred on resilience, healing, nature, and survival.
Not for: Readers sensitive to themes of abuse, addiction, family trauma, and difficult childhood experiences.

📝 Lost & Found: A Memoir by Kathryn Schulz
Perfect for: Readers interested in grief memoirs that thoughtfully explore loss, love, joy, and beginning again.
Not for: Readers seeking straightforward advice books or quick emotional resolutions.

🗞 Behind the Headlines

Perfect for: Lovers of investigative journalism

🗞 London Falling: A Mysterious Death in a Gilded City and a Family’s Search for Truth by Patrick Radden Keefe
Perfect for: Fans of narrative nonfiction and true stories blending mystery, power, family, and investigative reporting with literary depth.
Not for: Readers looking for a straightforward true crime procedural; this leans heavily into context, people, and larger questions.

More Titles:

🗞 The Meaning of Your Life: Finding Purpose in an Age of Emptiness by Arthur C. Brooks
Perfect for: Readers interested in happiness, purpose, meaning, and how people build fulfilling lives in an increasingly disconnected world.
Not for: Readers looking for quick self-help fixes or productivity hacks; this is reflective and philosophical.

🗞 Miracle Children: Race, Education, and a True Story of False Promises by Katie Benner & Erica L. Green
Perfect for: Readers drawn to investigative journalism exploring education, race, inequality, and the gap between public promises and lived realities.
Not for: Readers seeking an uplifting school success story; this examines systemic failures and uncomfortable truths.

🗞 Super Nintendo by Keza MacDonald
Perfect for: Readers interested in gaming history, nostalgia, pop culture, and how technology shapes identity and memory.
Not for: Readers with no interest in video games or cultural history; nostalgia is part of the appeal.

Happy Reading!

📕 Please forward this to a fellow reader (or 2) if you enjoyed this.

👉 New readers can subscribe to Book Dumpling Dispatch HERE

Being Jewish is arguing over who makes the best kugel (Poles or Litvaks?). It’s a dark, wicked sense of humour developed as a coping mechanism through generations of pain, because without humour, you can lose your mind. It’s creating art (film, theatre, painting, literature, music) to express what ordinary language cannot. It’s your favourite pickles and the best way to make a salade cuite. It’s right-wing cousins fighting with left-wing cousins at the seder table, arguing over philosophy and whether The Bachelor got it right this time. It’s no tattoos, yes tattoos, no pork, no pork except for bacon, and yes pork. It’s traditions we follow because our parents followed them, whether you’re Reform, Orthodox, Conservative, or non-practicing.

It’s a tight, dysfunctional family that loves and protects fiercely. Jewishness is made up of Ashkenazi (Eastern/Central European), Sephardic (Spain, North Africa, Middle East), Mizrahi (Middle Eastern), Ethiopian (Beta Israel), Yemenite, Persian, Indian (Bene Israel, Cochin Jews), and I’m probably missing many more.

As Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie so eloquently put it: “The single story creates stereotypes, and the problem with stereotypes is not that they are untrue, but that they are incomplete. They make one story become the only story.”

It’s too easy, and quite lazy, to apply a reductive approach to Jews. We are not one voice that can be reduced to a monolith. Jewish books run the gamut of place and time and grief and joy and pain and knowledge and storytelling, just like every other culture.

Since May 2021, it’s been a little lonely and shocking navigating the Bookstagram world as a Jew, which is why finding Jewish joy on Instagram has mattered so much to me.

Liz Gould (@elizabookworm) embodies Jewish joy.

Her reviews are insightful, and her feed is filled with incredible (and beautiful) recommendations, publishing news, and overall goodness.

Sadly, she’s called “brave” simply for putting a Star of David in her profile. Even sadder is that, in today’s world, it’s true.

I was thrilled when Liz agreed to participate as a guest in my Substack series on Jewish books and authors in honour of Jewish Heritage Month in May.

Liz can be found at @elizabookworm, and I can’t say enough good things about her or her page.

About Liz

Hi, I’m Liz! I live in Brooklyn Heights with my two kids, a Frenchton pup, and my husband. I’ve always been a big reader who loved giving book recommendations. My Instagram account started on a whim. After four-plus years, I’ve made so many friendships with other influencers, authors, and publishers. I’ve really come to love this little nook on the internet. I work full time, so I mostly read on weekends or at night. Literary fiction is my first love.

On Jewish Books

What makes a book Jewish?

Liz: Funny, because I just read the newest Allegra Goodman book, This is Not About Us, and thought it was one of the most “Jewish” books I’ve read in a while.

For me, Jewishness is more cultural than religious. Goodman doesn’t shy away from any of it: complicated families, customs, food, the ways Jews move through the world with their kids, the way they stand in solidarity with each other.

I loved how Like Mother, Like Mother addressed what being “Jewish” means to different characters. It could be a schmear on a bagel. The way you eat matzah. The way Yiddish slips into everyday conversation. Or the way you nag your kids.

That’s one of the things I love about being Jewish: you get to claim your Jewishness in the way that feels true to you.

Can you recommend some of your favorite Jewish books?

Liz:

This is Not About Us by Allegra Goodman
The Safekeep by Yael van der Wouden
Fleishman Is in Trouble by Taffy Brodesser-Akner
Like Mother, Like Mother by Susan Rieger
The Red Tent by Anita Diamant
The Matchmaker’s Gift by Lynda Cohen Loigman

On Being a Jewish Bookstagrammer

What does it feel like to be a Jewish bookstagrammer right now? Not great. I feel lucky to have friends who are like-minded. I’m even in a “support group” chat on Instagram for Jewish authors and bookstagrammers. But it’s pretty rough. Seeing so much antisemitism and misinformation in the publishing community (a space that prides itself on openness) is hard to see.

Do you feel pressure to be a certain kind of Jewish person on bookstagram? After October 7th, I tried defending people or commenting on misinformation. It was pretty terrible. I’ve been told I’m brave for having a Jewish star in my profile. I never would have thought twice about it before. Now I want to show my pride.

Have you lost followers or relationships because of your Jewish identity online? Yep. An author blocked me (I’m guessing because of the Jewish star in my profile). I’ve been disappointed by other authors’ and followers’ stances. I’ve unfollowed a lot of people too.

Books, Family, and Identity

Which Jewish book changed the way you understood your own family? My Name Is Barbra. My mom grew up on Barbra Streisand’s block in Brooklyn. Reading about her childhood felt personal in the best way.

Which Jewish character felt the most “real” to you? It can also be from TV or film! Andy from The Devil Wears Prada. Smart, determined, educated, beautiful. She loves a good onion bagel (I prefer sesame with lox spread).

If you had to recommend one Jewish book to non-Jewish readers, which would it be and why? The Safekeep. It’s an untold, very moving story of post-Holocaust life in The Netherlands.

I want to thank Liz for reminding us that there is no one Jewish story, just as there is no one way to be Jewish.

Liz can be found at @elizabookworm (click on her handle! It will take you to her beautiful page).

A peek at Liz’s wonderful feed:@elizabookworm

For those unfamiliar, OCD often shows up as magical thinking: we mis-believe that we are so powerful that we can control our world (at a time when it seems unsafe), and prevent bad things from happening. If you don’t perform the compulsion, the obsession is that someone you love will get hurt.

It’s genuinely devastating and frightening.

After seeing this woman interviewed on live TV, I understood that maybe I wasn’t a freak, deep down, whom no one really knew, but someone who just needed some help.

Lena Dunham, a messy, brilliant, offensive, cozy, people-pleasing whirlwind of talent, first burst onto the screen as Aura in Tiny Furniture and then, in a less likable form, as Hannah Horvath on Girls. Aura inhabited a cool corner of Brooklyn, surrounded by quirky characters, submerged in low post-college self-esteem mixed with a desperate need to prove her own brilliance. Here was this smart, brave, funny woman-child who seemed not to give a shit (even if she really did), onscreen alongside her cool real-life mother and sibling.

Watching her movie captured the angst I felt in my twenties: wanting desperately to do something creative, obsessing over doing something creative, spiraling when I wasn’t doing something creative, and feeling paralyzed when I couldn’t figure out my next move, convinced that if I didn’t publish my novel and make it onto some “30 Under 30” list, my life would be over.

Girls premiered, and it was everything: offensive to some, gross, beautiful, heartbreaking, exclusionary, and very, very funny.

Up until then, no character had matched, for me, the intensity of Hannah Horvath or the specific type of woman she represented: creative, lost, ambitious, and quietly struggling with mental illness.

I didn’t relate to Hannah’s behaviour as much as I related to the chaos of her mind. Starting at nineteen, I experienced a few major depressions which, aside from my immediate family, I kept secret. There was a deep sense of shame and loneliness; I was the person with the big laugh and constant smile people were drawn to. I was too young to understand that no one needed me to carry the burden of being their personal comedy show (and that most people didn’t expect me to).

In between, I had a full life filled with friends and family and book clubs and trips and laughter and, well, life, including marriage and pregnancy.

It all culminated in a major postpartum depression, for which I was hospitalized twice in the psych ward. It remains one of the most unpleasant and scary experiences of my life.

When I was put on meds that helped me (diagnosed with bipolar II, a version involving hypomania, highly productive periods of enthusiasm, alongside periods of depression, rather than the full manic episodes people usually picture and fear), my world changed forever in the best way.

In real life, I’m less dramatic than Hannah or Lena. I have little toxicity in my life and even less patience for it, which is maybe why I needed someone like her to model a louder, messier way of being. I’m not sure I would have written the paragraph above, or become an advocate for postpartum awareness, if it weren’t for Lena Dunham.

She remains one of the people who gave language to the chaotic, inexpressible landscape of mental illness, and the confidence to speak publicly about my own experiences.

When Lena Dunham entered the scene, I was given the words for parts of my mental state that had previously felt impossible to articulate. In a genuinely disturbing (now infamous) scene in Girls, Hannah pierces her ear with a Q-tip as a compulsion to feel something specific: pain, release, control. She’s in a state of deep suffering, yet some critics dismissed the moment as mere shock value rather than recognizing something psychologically real beneath it. While I had never done anything so violent, the root of the compulsion rang true to me.

As the 24-year-old showrunner of Girls, Lena Dunham created a phenomenon. Examining female desire, the inherent violence in some heterosexual relationships, and the refusal to be the “nice” girl, Dunham portrayed compulsiveness, self-absorption, rumination, people-pleasing, and female anxiety not as “likable,” but as recognizable.

Girls wasn’t exactly enjoyable (and it certainly wasn’t perfect), but it was mesmerizing.

While Hannah and I didn’t have the same personality or relationships with people, we suffered from some overlapping issues: we remained quiet until we had the strength to become vocal. Hannah eventually began admitting the reality of her behaviour to Adam, a genuinely toxic boyfriend, and later to her parents. We both felt validated and defined through creative expression.

Following her through the years and consuming almost anything she produced or wrote, I was excited to read her latest memoir, Famesick, which returns to her indulgent, confessional, honest, witty, and (mostly) self-aware style of writing. I devoured it. There’s a certain maturity to the book that deepens her ongoing exploration of fame, persona, and the toll both have taken on her mental and physical health.

Her pain, stemming from endometriosis, Ehlers-Danlos syndrome, and other chronic illnesses, oozes through the sentences, alongside her dependence on validation, benzodiazepines, and compulsive people-pleasing.

By now, it’s clear how Dunham channels her whirlwind emotions into her writing, through which she processes her life.

Her sheer power as a writer does what many others can’t: it keeps me invested in a brilliant, messy, and sometimes frustrating woman who embodies both the best and worst parts of being human.

Reading Famesick feels akin to being handed a manifesto on women’s mental health, the messiness of being human, and the mistakes that shape us permanently.

Dunham’s honesty about women’s bodies, the betrayal of her own body, her ongoing struggles with mental illness, and the contradictory emotional expectations placed on women have turned her into an easy punching bag, yet she keeps writing anyway. She has been punished repeatedly for her imperfect body, imperfect thoughts, and imperfect expression.

But here’s the thing: she is very aware. Aware of the shock her imperfect body provokes, particularly in sex scenes, and of the disgust she inspires, surprisingly from many women. Yet she does it all with a wink to the audience.

People have many opinions about whether Dunham should have written so candidly about the people in her life, from her complicated relationship with Adam Driver and Jenni Konner to intimate details about her longtime boyfriend, Jack Antonoff.

I, for one, am so happy she wrote it.

You certainly don’t need to like Lena Dunham, and you can feel in your bones how difficult she might be to love or maintain a relationship with. But her role in my life as a fierce, brave, and brilliant woman makes her something of a superhero to me. And I don’t think I’m alone in this.

Had her writing remained polite and people-pleasing, I’m not sure I would have found my own voice or helped empower others to do the same. It was a risky move, but I did it anyway.

And I’m so happy I did.

Perfect for: anyone interested in mental health, the price of fame, a deep dive into chronic health issues and lovers of witty writing.

Nor for: those easily disturbed or looking for a quick pick-me-up. Despite its humour, the book deals with seriously heavy issues.

The silver lining: it’s the kind of weekend that calls for a really good book. Here’s where to start (because readers are never bored).

🕰 Fragments in Time

If you’re tired of: Dark historical tragedies.
Swap it for: The Seven Daughters of Dupree by Nikesha Elise Williams
Perfect for: Readers who love multi-generational stories.
Not for: Readers who want a single narrative voice or fast-paced historical drama.

If you’re tired of: Moral dilemmas that feel overly abstract or distant.
Swap it for: A Far-Flung Life by M.L. Stedman
Perfect for: Readers drawn to moral tension and family secrets set against historical backdrops.
Not for: Readers looking for fast-paced, plot-driven action

📝 Our Messy Lives

If you’re tired of: Surface-level celebrity narratives.
Swap it for: Famesick by Lena Dunham
Perfect for: Readers who enjoy bold, polarizing cultural commentary.
Not for: Readers looking for a light or escapist memoir.

🔪 A Killer Read

If you’re tired of: The stale, unhappy wife trope.
Swap it for: A Sociopath’s Guide to a Successful Marriage by M.K. Oliver
Perfect for: Readers who love dark, addictive stories with unreliable narrators.
Not for: Readers who want a procedural or someone to root for.

💛 People Like Us

If you’re tired of: Heavy grief novels.
Swap it for: Is This a Cry for Help? by Emily R. Austin
Perfect for: Fans of Sorrow and Bliss and quirky, self-aware narrators.
Not for: Readers looking for a traditional or linear recovery arc.

If you’re tired of: Contemporary fiction that mistakes darkness for depth.
Swap it for: Leave Your Mess at Home by Tolani Akinola
Perfect for: Readers who want deep character work with genuine emotional growth.
Not for: Readers seeking escapism or high-stakes plot.

If you’re tired of: Family stories that fall apart and stay there.
Swap it for: Lost Lambs by Madeline Cash
Perfect for: Readers who want emotional truth with a way through.
Not for: Readers who prefer darker endings or unresolved emotional arcs.

🗞 Behind the Headlines

If you’re tired of: Dry, business non-fiction.
Swap it for: London Falling by Patrick Radden Keefe
Perfect for: Readers drawn to long-form journalism and social analysis.
Not for: Readers looking for a how-to guide or textbook-style breakdown.

💕 Love, Actually?

If you’re tired of: Standard rom-com formulas.
Swap it for: Annie Knows Everything by Rachel Wood
Perfect for: Readers who love smart dialogue and modern female leads.
Not for: Readers who want a classic romance arc.

If you’re tired of: Romance weighed down by unnecessary drama.
Swap it for: Big Girl Blitz by Danielle Allen
Perfect for: Readers who want confident, emotionally intelligent romance.
Not for: Readers who love drawn-out miscommunication or third-act breakups.

If you’re tired of: Romance weighed down by unnecessary angst.
Swap it for: Into the Blue by Emma Brodie
Perfect for: Readers who want to get swept up in a relationship and a setting.
Not for: Readers who want high drama or emotionally heavy romance.

🧠 What’s Actually Going On

If you’re tired of: Vague, discouraging health advice.
Swap it for: The New Perimenopause by Mary Claire Haver
Perfect for: Readers who want a clear, science-informed understanding of their body.
Not for: Readers looking for anecdotal advice or quick lifestyle fixes.

Chances are, one of these resonates.

There are very few books that resonate with everyone. Tiny, Beautiful Things is one of them.

In her generous collection of advice, Cheryl Strayed (author of the popular memoir, Wild), offers her poetic bursts of inspiration and empathy pertaining to the pain, joy, suffering and redemption that accompany us in our messy lives.

In one particularly harrowing letter, Strayed responds to a woman who has just experienced a miscarriage at six and a half months. Her answer begins somewhere unexpected: with the abused, poor middle school students she once worked with as a youth advocate, for whom ‘making it’ meant avoiding pregnancy by senior year and landing a job at Taco Bell.

She writes that, like these girls, and like anyone who has experienced grief and trauma:

“Nobody will protect you from your suffering. You can’t cry it away or eat it away or starve it away or walk it away or punch it away or even therapy it away. It’s just there and you have to survive it. You have to endure it. You have to live through it and love it and move on and be better for it and run as far as you can in the direction of your best and happiest dreams across the bridge that was built by your own desire to heal.”

That connection between a grieving mother, abused children, and anyone who has ever wanted to escape an excruciating situation is what makes Strayed so brilliant. We are all, momentarily, aware of our sameness. Our communal yearning to be free from pain, and open to joy.

I read that passage to my fifteen-year-old students, most of whom come from privileged backgrounds, and they simply couldn’t get over that ‘making it,’ in someone else’s world, was ‘just’ working at a Taco Bell. And I understood them.

Their parents would be sick about it. These are the future doctors, lawyers, CEOs. What could possibly send one of them to Wal-Mart except a life that had spiraled down beyond recognition? It was an honest, beautiful discussion about the role of perspective, or lack thereof, that we all-too-regularly forget. These are the moments that make teaching, and reading, so bloody wonderful.

Someone once put it this way: what does it mean to teach perspective in a culture that structurally reinforces entitlement?

In another letter, a young female writer suffers from intense jealousy over the success of her writer friends and writes to Sugar looking for a way to overcome her nasty feelings. Sugar answers sternly but with empathy:

“[….] A large part of your jealousy probably rises out of your outsized sense of entitlement. Privilege has a way of fucking with our heads the same way lack of it does…”

Not only does Strayed respond with sincere advice, she does so in a way that makes me want to answer those same questions for myself. I picked up a pen to investigate how and why I’ve come to believe that I am entitled or deserving of certain things over others. The only thing Sugar believes we are all wholly, unabashedly deserving of is love. It’s a short list, and it’s the right one.

Tiny, Beautiful Things is honest in a way most self-help books are too afraid to be. It will make you uncomfortable, and it will also make you feel profoundly less alone.

Give it to someone you love or give it to someone who is struggling. Give it to someone who has everything and hasn’t yet learned what that means.

It works every time.

If you enjoyed this, forward it to someone who would. And if you’re not yet subscribed, please do!

When my daughter was three, I started asking her questions about PAW Patrol. Specifically, Skye. Why was she pink? Why was she the only girl (yes, Everest came later, we addressed that too).

As the years passed, marked by the ever-changing PAW Patrol Halloween costumes, we spent a loooooot of time in Adventure Bay. I’m happy to report that she will not be having a Paw Patrol-themed graduation party.

As soon as she was old enough, we talked about what blonde hair signals in cartoons (think iconic princesses and heroines like Cinderella, Aurora, Alice), and what dark hair has often been used to represent (villains, outsiders, the “other”). She was growing up with Mirabel Madrigal and Moana, which felt like a real shift.

I realized just how much I had curated what she watched when, at Walt Disney World, she didn’t recognize half the princesses walking around. I hadn’t banned Disney, but I had been selective about which movies and shows she watched. Maybe I had been a little too rigid. Time will tell.

As fights about Roblox entered the scene, we talked about what the advertisers were doing, and how they were doing it. She noticed the colours, the never-ending levels, and the constant money asks (all without wanting to stop), and I told myself these were quiet victories. Right? RIGHT?

At its core, media literacy is simple: how do we evaluate the information our brains take in? This shouldn’t start in high school, but in kindergarten. Kids need to build the habit early (and plenty of adults, myself included, are still working on it).

I had an incredible teacher in Grade 11 who taught us to always ask what we weren’t seeing. What context was missing from a photograph? What had the documentary edited out? What did this news outlet want? Most of it, of course, comes down to money.

When I taught media literacy to Grade 11, it became obvious fairly quickly whose parents believed what about the world, and how fixed those beliefs were. By working through units like TV, film, advertising, cartoons, radio, and news, we started to see the systems behind seemingly innocuous messages. The work was simple: ask better questions. Years later, students still tell me they watch, read, and consume differently. That’s the point.

So here are the five questions I keep coming back to. Use them on the news, on Netflix, on your favourite video game. But especially use them when your own views align with someone else’s. That’s usually where the real questioning should begin.

Framework Questions

Authorship: Who made this?
Purpose: Why was this made? What do they want you to do, feel, or believe?
Format / techniques: How is it made? What techniques are being used to get your attention and shape your feelings?
Omission: What is being left out? What values, voices, or information are missing?
Audience: How might different people understand this differently? Who is this for, and who might see it another way?

(See below for examples for both adults and kids. If you let your kids watch The White Lotus, no judgment.)

Case Study: The White Lotus

Q1 – Authorship: Who made this?
Mike White created, writes, produces, and sometimes directs The White Lotus. The show airs on HBO, the prestige TV of prestige TV (remember, it’s not television, it’s HBO). That already tells us a lot about who it’s for. We can assume it is created through a largely Western lens, which shapes how these stories are framed.

Q2 – Purpose: Why was this made? What do they want you to do, feel, or believe?
It’s made to entertain and also to make us uncomfortable. It invites us to feel both fascinated by wealth and uneasy about what sits underneath it.

Q3 – Format / techniques: How is it made?
The show is set in lush, gorgeous locations, uses ominous music, and opens with flash-forwards to a dead body. Long, awkward pauses pull us into the fantasy, then force us to sit in the discomfort.

Q4 – Omission: What is being left out?
We never follow the workers home or see the long-term consequences. This tells us something about whose stories are centred, and whose remain in the background.

Q5 – Audience: Who is this for, and who might see it differently?
If you’ve stayed somewhere like this, it might feel like satire. If you’ve worked there, it might feel like horror. It always depends on perspective and personal context and experience.

Case Study: PAW Patrol

Q1 – Authorship: Who made this?
The show was created by Keith Chapman and developed with Spin Master, a Canadian toy and entertainment company.

Q2 – Purpose: Why was this made?
The pups’ missions are built around solving problems and, not coincidentally, making kids want the whole collection of characters. The merchandising machine behind it is enormous: video games, stuffies, live experiences, bedsheets, you name it.

Q3 – Format / techniques: How is it made?
PAW Patrol is a lot; it has bright colours, fast cuts, and constant sound. It’s all engineered to keep kids watching.

Q4 – Omission: What is being left out?
Like in most cartoons, real-world complexity is gone. Everything is solvable and upbeat. Every pup fits into a category, and Ryder never spirals, doubts himself or loses control.

Q5 – Audience: Who is this for, and who might see it differently?
A three-year-old sees heroes, while a parent might see marketing. Kids with a lot of toys might see Ryder and his team differently versus kids with less toys. Parents who work in emergency services might see a simplified, even silly version of jobs that, in real life, are anything but.

The point isn’t to stop watching. It’s to notice how and what you’re watching, and to ask why it works or doesn’t.

That includes this article.

Shakespeare’s plays would have much less to chew on without the characters corrupted by wealth and power. Hamlet and his demented uncle, Macbeth and Lady Macbeth scheming for power, Richard III backstabbing every relative to get to the throne, King Lear and his toxic parenting skills that destroy his family in a twisted inheritance game: these all show the allure of watching the powerful be eaten alive by their own systems.

That London’s Globe Theatre included so many groundlings (whom Prince Hamlet himself mocks, urging the actors not to play to them), those poor, penny‑paying spectators crammed into standing room only, shows how many centuries back our schadenfreude goes.

Fast forward to today, where billionaire influencers amass millions of followers in the name of unboxing and frivolous spending: we want a peek, but we don’t want to want it. Or we don’t want to admit we want it.

The Kardashians represent the foulest, most unsophisticated segment of society (or so we tell ourselves). The Real World fueled our “fly‑on‑the‑wall” cravings, while Paris Hilton and The Real Housewives fed our inability to resist throwing wealth into the mix. Voyeurism on crack.

The more divorce, the more loss of money, the more affairs, the bigger our obsession with feeling superior to the very class we are told runs on superiority.

We binge the John and Carolyn Love Story less for their romance than for the Kennedy mythology around it: the fantasy of marrying into America’s most elite family.

From Dallas and Dynasty to The Real Housewives to Selling Sunset, most reality television can thank our obsession with watching the wealthy fall for its success. It’s no doubt that books about the rich behaving badly are some of the best‑selling throughout reading history.

Take Edith Wharton’s Countess Ellen Olenska (The Age of Innocence), who defies society in a spectacular way, only to be reborn decades later, cemented to the tune of “Bittersweet Symphony” in Cruel Intentions.

Or take Becky Sharp in Thackeray’s Vanity Fair, the ultimate social‑climbing tragedy, reiterated time and time again in movies like Saltburn and Parasite.

Logan Roy from Succession is a modern‑day Sir Walter Elliot from Persuasion, obsessed with status and adulation and holding on to power.

A small but representative parade of TV shows about badly behaved wealthy people includes The White Lotus, which gives us bratty teens who know more about manipulation than their parents; Schitt’s Creek, whose main premise and hilarity ensue from a wealthy family losing it all and now living in a motel; and Upstairs, Downstairs (1971–1975), arguably the original TV show that explored the differences in wealth and class and inspired future iterations like Bridgerton and Downton Abbey.

All of these shows give us the beauty of the homes, the clothes, the people, but don’t withhold the ugliness, including the scandal, the cruelty, and the cost of it all.

We can safely binge with popcorn while watching in sweatpants, in the comfort of our homes, and remind ourselves that our lives are actually better off the way they are. Right? RIGHT?

So: are we complicit? Probably.
And what if we want in? I’m good… as long as there’s an exit close by.

And happy reading!

Check out this Book List of Rich People Behaving Badly:

Reader Personality: ☕ Espresso at Midnight

Trust by Hernan Diaz

✔️ Perfect for: Readers who love structural innovation, unreliable narration, and fiction that interrogates how wealth rewrites its own history.

🚫 Not for: Anyone who wants a straightforward story or sympathetic characters.

Saint X by Alexis Schaitkin

✔️ Perfect for: Readers drawn to slow-burn mysteries that are really about race, class, and the stories we tell about the dead.

🚫 Not for: Readers who want pace, plot momentum, or a neatly satisfying resolution.

Culpability by Bruce Holsinger

✔️ Perfect for: Readers interested in a book that explores social satire wrapped in an AI, legal thriller energy.

🚫 Not for: Readers who prefer clear-cut villains and heroes. This book investigates the moral complexity of living with AI.

Reader Personality: 👥 People Like Us

Members Only by Sameer Pandya

✔️Perfect for: Readers who like their moral crises low-key but devastating. Here we watch ordinary, liberal, “good” people discover the lengths they’re willing to go for self-preservation.

🚫 Not for: Readers who want blowup endings and neat justice.

Park Avenue by Renee Ahdiah

✔️ Perfect for: Readers who want well-written, contemporary fiction set in the world of Manhattan wealth, where performance is everything.

🚫 Not for: Readers who prefer that social climbing to come with a conscience.

The Paper Palace by Miranda Cowley Heller

✔️ Perfect for: Readers who love a single day that contains an entire life, secrets, desire, and the weight of old money summers.

🚫 Not for: Anyone who needs likable protagonists or tidy moral conclusions.

Reader Personality: 🏖 Fiction in Flip Flops

Bad Summer People by Emma Rosenblum

✔️ Perfect for: Readers who want a trash-tastic beach read with a sharp, gossipy, and deeply ridiculous plot.

🚫 Not for: Readers who want emotional depth or literary ambition.

High Season by Katie Bishop

✔️ Perfect for: Readers who love a sun-soaked setting, a cast of morally flexible characters, and the cruelty of the very rich on holiday.

🚫 Not for: Readers who need to root for someone unambiguously good.

These Summer Storms by Sarah MacLean

✔️ Perfect for: Readers who want their summer fiction glamorous, romantic, and laced with secrets about to be uncovered.

🚫 Not for: Readers who prefer realism over atmosphere or subtlety over drama.

Pineapple Street by Jenny Jackson

✔️ Perfect for: Readers who love sharp, witty fiction about old money families, outsiders, and the unspoken rules of inherited privilege.

🚫 Not for: Anyone who dislikes insufferable characters.

Reader Personality🔪 A Killer Read

The Guest List by Lucy Foley

✔️ Perfect for: Readers who love atmospheric, multi-perspective thrillers where everyone is hiding something.

🚫 Not for: Readers who want psychological depth over plot mechanics or who find multiple POVs disorienting.

The Heiress by Rachel Hawkins

✔️ Perfect for: Readers who want a Gothic atmosphere, family secrets, a crumbling estate, and a twisty plot.

🚫 Not for: Readers who want grounded realism or slow, character-driven fiction.

Reader Personality: 💋 The Juicy Past

The Ivory City by Emily Bain Murphy

✔️ Perfect for: Readers who love historical fiction with murder, secrets, and a vivid setting.

🚫 Not for: Readers who want quiet, literary historical fiction with subtle emotional arcs.

The House of Doors by Tan Twan Eng

✔️ Perfect for: Lovers of lush, layered prose, colonial history, and fiction that moves between past and present with elegance.

🚫 Not for: Readers who want their rich people loud and obvious.

How to Fake It in Society by K.J. Charles

✔️ Perfect for: Readers who love historical settings, witty banter, class mobility, and romance that earns its happy ending.

🚫 Not for: Readers who want darkness, moral complexity, or literary ambition.

• You are probably in a book club. Or you really want to be.

• You might have Ask Again, Yes on your bedside table, and you may have recommended The Wedding People to everyone you know.

• You don’t read to escape life, you read to understand it. The ‘People Like Us’ reader loves the messiness of family dysfunction, the forgiving nature of relationships, and the characters who have unlikeable qualities (but not only unlikeable). You might love Succession and Shrinking and Fleabag, but you might not.

• You appreciate that life is full of joy and grief, and that to really appreciate one, you need to experience the other.

• You’re the friend who gives the best advice and avoids judgment (but only towards the people you love).

• Your favourite scene in a novel is around a dinner table, or at a funeral, or a wedding. Not because you love drama (ok, maybe a little), but because you love what happens to people when they can’t escape each other.

• You have been meaning to read A Little Life for years.

This list is for you.

Heart the Lover by Lily King
✔️ Perfect for: readers who want a love story that’s really about the decisions you make at 22 and spend the rest of your life thinking about.
🚫 Not for: anyone looking for a tidy resolution.

The Wedding People by Alison Espach
✔️ Perfect for: readers who love two women who should never have met becoming exactly what the other needed.
🚫 Not for: readers who dislike stories where the plot hinges on a single unlikely encounter.

What Kind of Paradise by Janelle Brown
✔️ Perfect for: readers interested in a daughter raised off the grid who starts asking questions her father doesn’t want answered.
🚫 Not for: readers looking for a purely character-driven story; this one has thriller elements.

The Bright Years by Sarah Damoff
✔️ Perfect for: lovers of multigenerational family fiction. Four generations, one secret, and the specific weight of what gets passed down.
🚫 Not for: anyone easily triggered by addiction and domestic violence.

Americanah by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
✔️ Perfect for: readers who want a love story that’s also a sharp, funny, devastating examination of race, identity, and belonging.
🚫 Not for: readers looking for pure fun.

Girl, Woman, Other by Bernardine Evaristo
✔️ Perfect for: readers who love a novel that holds twelve lives at once and makes you care about every single one.
🚫 Not for: readers who dislike non-linear structure or unconventional formatting.

Free Food for Millionaires by Min Jin Lee
✔️ Perfect for: readers interested in a young Korean-American woman navigating class, ambition, and family expectation in New York.
🚫 Not for: readers who dislike longer novels or slower-building stories.

Culpability by Bruce Holsinger
✔️ Perfect for: readers who love a family drama with real moral stakes. When a self-driving car crashes and everyone in the family has a secret, the question of who’s responsible gets very complicated very fast.
🚫 Not for: readers who dislike thrillers with a tech angle; this one is very much of the moment on AI. Also not for anyone looking for tidy resolutions.

Spectacular Things by Beck Dorey-Stein
✔️ Perfect for: readers who love a story about what sisters owe each other, and what happens when the answer gets complicated.
🚫 Not for: readers who dislike multigenerational timelines or for strictly literary readers; this one reads more like Taylor Jenkins Reid.

Finding Grace by Loretta Rothschild
✔️ Perfect for: readers who love a debut that starts with a first chapter cliffhanger that’s also a love story, a family drama, and a moral dilemma; don’t read the synopsis, just jump in.
🚫 Not for: readers easily triggered by infant loss and infertility. Also not for anyone who dislikes stories where coincidence drives the plot.

Happy Reading!

I have a wonderful, smart, delightful friend, let’s call her G, whose restaurant recommendations are, in my opinion, terrible.
When G tells me, “You need to try this new restaurant… it’s to die for,” I’m already making a note to never go: Taste is very personal.

A dear family member has the complete opposite taste in movies to mine: if she likes a film, I steer clear. If she says it’s terrible, I will probably buy tickets that same day.

The same goes with books.

My friend Steph has very similar reading tastes to me. When she loves something, chances are I will too. We both love literary fiction like The Covenant of Water by Abraham Verghese, fun romances like Every Summer After by Carley Fortune, a classic like Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë, and a slightly demented thriller like Strange Sally Diamond by Liz Nugent.

So how does the Book Dumpling questionnaire actually work?

It comes down to listening, paying close attention, and what I think of as my inner algorithm.

I try to read across everything: memoirs, literary fiction, juicy page-turners, science, philosophy. Somewhere along the way, I developed an intuitive sense of who would love a book, and who would throw it across the room.

I never let my personal taste get in the way. I often recommend books I did not enjoy because someone else might love them, like The Nightingale by Kristin Hannah. And I will hold back a personal favourite if I know it will be someone else’s snoozefest, like A Gentleman in Moscow by Amor Towles.

Too often, we assume everyone likes the same things, and get personally offended when they don’t. We forget to listen because we are too busy pushing our own preferences. Everyone has their own taste. There is nothing threatening about that.

This is also why I discourage people from following me on Goodreads, unless we genuinely share the same taste. My personal taste has very little to do with my recommendations.

The variety of readers in the world, all wanting completely different things, is something that genuinely makes me happy.

Algorithms do not always get the job done.

Just because I loved Batman the movie does not mean I want to read comic books. I loved reading Watchmen but have zero interest in reading the Spiderman comics. These are the kinds of nuances that a label like “drama,” “literary,” or “family” will never fully capture.

It is hard to explain why I love Fiona Apple but dislike certain fiction that tries to do something similar on the page, like All Fours by Miranda July or books by Rachel Cusk. Sometimes I do not even understand it myself.

What I really listen for when someone fills out the questionnaire is the kind of reading experience they are looking for.

Are they confident in their tastes? Shy about them? Bored? Embarrassed? Trying to become a different kind of reader than they actually are? Hoping to get back into reading?

Sometimes I ignore what someone thinks they want and recommend the book I know they will actually love. Because what people ask for is not always what they need.

Someone who is a perfectionist may ask for a heavy literary epic but actually needs something fun, like Where’d You Go, Bernadette by Maria Semple.

Someone asking for literary historical fiction might really want something more immersive and juicy, like The Frozen River by Ariel Lawton.

I do not always get it right and knowing what I got wrong is how I get better.

I am also very interested in how people describe books they hate. Are they dismissive of anyone who liked it? Genuinely perplexed? Do they feel excluded by the conversation around it?

What people dislike tells you just as much as what they love, sometimes more.

Reading is a mood. It can be escape, comfort, stimulation, or relief. It reflects where someone is in their life just as much as what they like.

A five star rating does not tell the whole story. It tells you something worked, but not why, or for whom. There are books people love, books they want, and books they respect but do not enjoy.

Two books that repeatedly collect five star ratings, It Ends with Us by Colleen Hoover and Where the Crawdads Sing by Delia Owens, left me cold.

I run Book Dumpling because I genuinely love contributing to someone else’s enjoyment, their sense of self, and their connection to something meaningful.

Book Dumpling is my quiet space. A reminder that there is still thought, beauty, and connection in the world, even when it feels otherwise.

Please do not let my Goodreads ratings influence you unless our tastes align. We are all entitled to our own taste.

Except loving Breaking Bad. That one is non-negotiable.

**Footnote: I ended up going to G’s restaurant recommendation last month. I was hungry and it was right around the corner.

The salmon was terrible. But she doesn’t need to know.

📚 Books Mentioned in This Essay

The Covenant of Water

Reader Personality: ☕️ Espresso at Midnight
✓ Perfect for: readers who love sweeping family sagas, rich detail, and immersive, slow-building stories.
🚫 Not for: anyone who needs pace, plot, or quick payoff.

Every Summer After

Reader Personality: 🩴 Fiction in Flip Flops
✓ Perfect for: readers who want emotional romance, nostalgia, and second-chance love stories.
🚫 Not for: readers who prefer literary fiction or dislike sentimentality.

Wuthering Heights

Reader Personality: ☕️ Espresso at Midnight
✓ Perfect for: readers who love dark, obsessive relationships and Gothic atmosphere.
🚫 Not for: anyone who needs likeable characters or emotional comfort.

Strange Sally Diamond

Reader Personality: 🔪 A Killer Read

✓ Perfect for: readers who want unsettling, character-driven psychological fiction.
🚫 Not for: readers who prefer clean, fast-paced thrillers or lighter material.

The Nightingale

Reader Personality: 🕰️ Historical Fiction, Juicy / 📕 Plot Junkies
✓ Perfect for: readers who want emotional, accessible historical fiction with strong relationship dynamics.
🚫 Not for: readers who resist sentimentality or prefer subtle, literary storytelling.

A Gentleman in Moscow

Reader Personality: ☕️ Espresso at Midnight / 🕛 Fragments in Time
✓ Perfect for: readers who enjoy elegant prose, character-driven stories, and a reflective pace.
🚫 Not for: readers who need strong plot momentum or high stakes.

Where’d You Go, Bernadette

Reader Personality: 🧶 Cardigans in July / ☕️ Espresso at Midnight
✓ Perfect for: readers who want smart, funny, slightly chaotic storytelling with heart.
🚫 Not for: readers looking for seriousness, or traditional structure.

The Frozen River

Reader Personality: 🕰️ Historical Fiction, Juicy
✓ Perfect for: readers who want immersive historical fiction with a strong voice and built-in mystery.
🚫 Not for: readers expecting quiet, slow, literary historical fiction.

All Fours

Reader Personality: 😬 Novels with Teeth
✓ Perfect for: readers who like strange, introspective, boundary-pushing fiction about identity and desire.
🚫 Not for: readers who need structure, or emotional clarity, or who dislike self-indulgent narrators.

Where the Crawdads Sing

Reader Personality: 🕰️ Historical Fiction, Juicy
✓ Perfect for: readers who enjoy atmospheric settings, coming-of-age elements, and accessible storytelling.
🚫 Not for: readers who notice when plot overrides reality.

It may come as a shock, but even English majors lie.

In Boston, I once hosted a party and found myself deep in conversation about Ulysses. The guy I was talking to paused and asked, “You’ve read it, right?” And before I could stop myself, I said, “Of course I’ve read it.”

That was it. One second where I could have told the truth, and didn’t.

He was a poet. I didn’t want him to think I was dumb. It wasn’t really about the book. It was about not wanting to be exposed.

We went on to have a completely fabricated conversation about Ulysses: the prose, the brilliance, the density. I scavenged my brain for fragments of A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, a book I respected more than I enjoyed, and tried to pass them off as insight. I knew that Ulysses followed one day, June 16, 1904, through Leopold Bloom, Stephen Dedalus, and Molly Bloom. I also knew that large parts of it didn’t even feel like English, which raises a question no one wants to ask out loud: how much of this did anyone actually understand?

And Molly Bloom’s famous final monologue? Let’s just say I had my doubts about how many people were being honest about that, too.

I can still picture it: a freezing classroom in February in Montreal. At the front, a petite woman teaching an entire course on Virginia Woolf guides us through The Waves: character, context, prose. For some, this would be personal hell; for us, it was heaven. We were English majors who loved learning, talking about learning, analyzing, and then analyzing the analysis. Looking back, many of us were insufferable.

When I got to my Master’s program, everything intensified. There were smaller classes, longer reading lists, stronger opinions. This was the MFA, unofficially known as “Master of Fuck All.” We had outlasted our undergraduate peers; we had been weeded out. Who cared if no one was getting a job in the field? Law students would become lawyers, med students would become doctors, and we became excellent conversationalists. The existential crisis came later.

While writing this, I started remembering all the books / authors I had pretended to read. Not just Ulysses.

Michel Foucault: an obsessive man dismantling power structures and your will to live.

Moby-Dick: an obsessive man chasing a whale, for 720 pages.

In Search of Lost Time: an obsessive man eats a madeleine and reflects on life, for 4,000 pages.

I’m convinced every English major has at least one “Ulysses.”

Not everything was a performance. Some books genuinely got me: Middlemarch (and yes, George Eliot is a woman), Dostoyevsky, Thomas Hardy, Henry James, the Brontë sisters, Jane Austen. I finally tackled War and Peace in 2021 while stuck in bed for three weeks with bronchitis. Verdict: it’s great, but it could have used an editor.

What I think about now is what all that pretending cost. It cost us the chance to have real conversations, to say, “This didn’t work for me,” or “I stopped after thirty pages,” or even “I was bored.” Instead, we performed intelligence and lost honesty.

The best teachers didn’t make us pretend. They brought books to life, The Metamorphosis, The Iliad, The Odyssey, and made space for actual thinking. Then there were the others, the ones who lectured endlessly on Jacques Derrida and made you question your existence, and every choice that led you into that room.

So if you’re someone who’s been meaning to read the classics, here’s my take: you don’t need to perform your reading life. You just need to find the book that works for you.

If you want the feeling of the classics without the performance, here are a few swaps, And if you pick up Fifty Shades instead, I won’t tell.

Instead of Michel Foucault:

The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood

✔️Perfect for: anyone who struggled through it in high school and may want to try again. The first few seasons of the show were excellent but nothing compares to this book about a dystopian society in which ritualistic rape and forced baby-carrying are just part of daily life.

🚫 Not for: anyone who finds the world particularly bleak lately.

Instead of Moby-Dick by Herman Melville:

The Covenant of Water by Abraham Verghese

✔️ Perfect for: lovers of epic, literary fiction. Verghese is a master at weaving in compelling characters, storylines, and Indian history.

🚫 Not for: people bored by description and very long novels.

Instead of In Search of Lost Time by Marcel Proust:

My Brilliant Friend by Elena Ferrante

✔️ Perfect for: anyone looking for a deep, dark dive into a twisted female friendship, and the unglamorous side of Southern Italy.

🚫 Not for: anyone who dislikes abuse, violence, and disturbing plots.

Instead of Infinite Jest by David Foster Wallace:

Shuggie Bain by Douglas Stuart

✔️Perfect for: readers who want a big, emotionally devastating novel that grabs you the story of addiction, love, and survival in 1980s Glasgow.

🚫 Not for: anyone who needs hope on every page.

Instead of Naked Lunch by William S. Burroughs:

Less by Andrew Sean Greer

✔️Perfect for: anyone who wants dark humour, chaos, and a novel that makes you laugh out loud.

🚫 Not for: readers looking for edge: Less is like a literary hug.

Instead of White Noise by Don DeLillo:

White Teeth by Zadie Smith

✔️Perfect for: anyone who wants a big, warm, chaotic novel that makes you feel like you’ve lived inside an entire community. Funny, ambitious, and completely alive.

🚫 Not for: readers who need a tight plot: this is a sprawler.

Happy reading. And remember: everyone is a reader, you just need the right book.

While I judge all these teens and kids scrolling and texting when they’re standing right next to each other, I’m projecting.

I am obsessed with my phone. I get urges to pick it up, to check it, almost all of the time. It feels like a lost limb if I can’t find it for one minute. It feels like a part of my soul is missing when I leave it at home.

I know, rationally, that this isn’t healthy. But I didn’t necessarily want to stop it. Until I did.

You turn on the news: plane crashes, the fog of war, egomaniacs using the world as a personal chess game. Not even chess, checkers. There are the Epstein files and bad behaviour and it seems like everyone lacks manners. Do we need to be polite to our AI so they don’t kill us? Time will tell. And yet here I am, refreshing.

I’m saving more fitness routines than I can ever do, more recipes than I can ever cook, and ingesting more than I ever needed to know about this season of The Bachelorette.

I’m a pop culture junkie so I get it: I love TV, movies, podcasts. I love anything that analyzes these types of media and I love celeb gossip. So I’m not someone who sits in a corner and reads all day.

But.

I love my reading time and always have. I think that reading (or listening) to a book provides a creative and meaningful way to spend your time rather than scrolling, comparing, lamenting.

The other night, I was lying on my bed. I physically felt I couldn’t stop scrolling. I kept going and I felt guilty and bad and wanted to stop but the addiction felt stronger.

I had enough.

I got up, moved my charger to another room, turned on my Loftie clock and started reading. I had some urges to check, text, etc. and I resisted. I got lost in a good book. I fell asleep. Woke up the next morning and, instead of reaching for my phone, reached for my book for ten minutes.

In the same way I like to start the day with a good coffee and a meeting with friends at my favourite cafe, reading offers a real connection with places, ideas, characters. Instagram offers distractions. I have formed connections on Bookstagram as we oldies call it, but there’s nothing like the connection of meeting in person. Nothing on social media comes close.

Whenever I make time for reading, it feels good. My brain feels calmer. I go to bed thinking about the characters, not about potential ways of dying or of the world ending.

If I don’t physically move my phone into the other room, I’m scrolling. And not even doom scrolling. I’m taking precious time away from reading.

Some of us read to escape. Some read to learn. Some to laugh. Some to cry. Some to find communal relief in another’s thoughts that match our own. Some to challenge our assumptions. Some people read for all of these reasons.

So I offer you a challenge, if you’re up to it. I’ve never met anyone who finished a book they loved and felt bad about it. Not once.

Below are six recommendations to help you get back into reading if you’re having trouble concentrating, or to keep going if you’re already in a good reading phase.

Good People by Sameena Patbi

Perfect for: Those who enjoy being “manipulated” by a narrative. You’ll find yourself constantly pivoting your loyalties as each new voice adds a contradictory layer to the Sharaf family portrait.

Not for: Readers who need resolution and a neat ending. This book sits with ambiguity and leaves you unsettled.

🔥 Plot Junkies / ☕ Espresso at Midnight

Spectacular Things by Beck Dorey-Stein

Perfect for: Anyone who loves page-turning novels involving family drama amongst sisters, grief, ambition and resilience.

Not for: Readers looking for purely intellectual writing, lighter topics or books set in small towns.

💛 People Like Us / 🏖 Fiction in Flip Flops

The Other Side of Now by Paige Harbison

Perfect for: Readers who enjoy books where a glamorous life is deconstructed to explore what actually makes someone happy.

Not for: People who find grief, death of a close friend, and long-term unresolved trauma too heavy or triggering.

🏖 Fiction in Flip Flops / 💛 People Like Us

The Elements by John Boyne

Perfect for: Readers who like ambitious, multi-perspective literary fiction where separate stories click together into one big moral puzzle.

Not for: Anyone sensitive to detailed depictions of sexual violence, child abuse, or exploitation.

☕ Espresso at Midnight / 🌍 Passports & Paperbacks

This is How it Always Is by Laurie Frankel

Perfect for: Readers who want a moving and important story about family, acceptance, and love.

Not for: Readers who are sensitive to themes of gender identity.

💛 People Like Us / 🧥 Cardigans in July

All the Ugly and Wonderful Things by Bryn Greenwood

Perfect for: Readers willing to engage with a dark and morally ambiguous story.

Not for: Readers sensitive to difficult and controversial themes.

☕ Espresso at Midnight / 🔥 Plot Junkies

Now…go read something.

A while back, I gave my students two choices for an in-class essay: write about the different types of psychotherapy used in One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest and how it impacted the characters or write a kick-ass paper about why they didn’t read the book at all.

The students who hadn’t read it churned out some of the most honest writing I’ve ever received. They wrote about what it feels like to be handed books they don’t care about: the language too difficult, the scenario boring, the characters too weird. And instead of being frustrated by that, I was fascinated.

Because here’s the thing: there’s a myth that teens hate reading. It’s not true. What they hate is being forced to read the wrong books. And that’s on us, not them.

Where It Goes Wrong

There’s a reason children’s publishing is the only sector of the book industry that isn’t losing money: kids love to read. Every culture in history has mythology and storytelling at its core. Human beings are wired for a good story.

So, if we’re all born with an innate love of stories: when does it go wrong?

Around Grade 8 or 9, a lot of teens start realizing they don’t have to read something they hate. Cue SparkNotes (which, for the record, I encourage my students to use as supplementary material; nothing deflates a “forbidden” tool faster than making it officially allowed). But if we lose a reader as a teenager, we often lose them for life. I’ve seen it in surveys on my website: adults in their thirties wishing they read more but finding it almost impossible to get back into it.

And here’s what I keep coming back to: as adults, if we don’t like a book, we stop. That’s it. So why do we insist teens keep pushing through books they hate?

The standard argument: “They’re classics. It’s important to understand what shaped literature.”

My counterpoint: Once you create a natural reader, they’ll develop a genuine curiosity about the classics on their own. They’ll want to know why Holden Caulfield keeps showing up on Jeopardy! or who Mr. Darcy is since he never seems to leave pop culture. You don’t have to force it. You just need to scaffold the reader first.

What Forcing Books Actually Does

A lot of high school students hate To Kill a Mockingbird. They find Atticus irritating. They find the kids’ games boring. They find Boo Radley creepy in a way that doesn’t feel meaningful to them.

I think it’s a great book yet irrelevant when it comes to my students.

Students know when something is shoved down their throats. Some of them love the book: they feel the weight of Tom Robinson’s situation, the bravery of Atticus, the texture of Depression-era poverty. But some kids just find it boring. And that’s okay. Trying to make a class of 20 to 40 students all love the same book, and then scratching our heads when they don’t, is the problem.

I’ve also seen it up close in parent-teacher interviews. A parent comes in glowing: “That was my favourite book as a teen. You’ll love it.” The teen sits in silence. The parent turns to me: “I don’t understand it: he used to love reading.”

This teen isn’t broken. Holden Caulfield just doesn’t speak to him. We are not our parents, and we don’t share their tastes. When we recommend a book without considering the reader’s actual personality (their fears, their humour, what they care about) we’re setting them up to fail. And then we get angry when they don’t like it.

How You Actually Build a Reader

You scaffold. You start where they are, not where you want them to be.

Before you knock dystopian YA or Pretty Little Liars, hear me out: those books are a great way to grab readers who otherwise hate reading. They’re the entry point. A friend of mine loved Fifty Shades of Grey. Rather than judge her taste, I recommended The Chocolate Money as a next step: still page-turning, but with better writing. She liked that. I upped the ante. She liked that. I kept going. A reader was built: one who eventually picked up To Kill a Mockingbird because she wanted to.

If you build a reader, you don’t lose them to the classics: you create the conditions for them to want the classics.

The Kid Who Loved Bragging About Hating Books

Take Anthony (not his real name). He made a whole persona out of hating reading. He was excited to discuss how much he hated every book I tried with him. The students who loved reading rolled their eyes. Most kids laughed. And honestly? I got it.

Ever since reading Kitchens of the Great Midwest, in which there’s a chapter about how every teen needs their thing, whether it’s music, sports, art, I realized this was Anthony’s thing. It was his way of managing an insecurity about reading.

And then, eventually, Anthony admitted that he loved Where the Wild Things Are. There it was. He had a love of reading. Something had fractured it. Maybe he’d felt stupid in class. Maybe he hated analyzing literature. But it wasn’t gone.

In my experience, when teens do find the right book, three things happen: they appreciate that someone took the time to find it for them (without imposing their own taste); they’re quietly pleased with themselves for finishing it; and they realize that reading isn’t always the equivalent of banging their head against a wall and then discussing the symbolism.

What I’d Actually Do Differently

My practical suggestion: pick one shared book for the class: one that can carry both analytical discussion and some genuine student interest, but build reading lists alongside it. Conduct literature circles. Give students essay topics based on what they’re reading. Find resources to help you match books to readers. (Shameless plug: the Book Dumpling survey exists for exactly this reason, and I don’t make money from it, so there’s no awkward conflict of interest.)

My ideal vision: probably unrealistic in most schools, but worth saying out loud is a 30-minute consult with each student. Learn their loves, their fears, their passions, what bores them, what they’re insecure about. Then give them a book prescription. A literary pharmacy.

I don’t care how “dumb” that book looks in a department meeting. A page-turning experience creates the desire for another one. That’s how you build something that lasts.

Why It Has to Be Teens

Reading lowers depression. It builds empathy. It puts you in someone else’s shoes and expands your world. I’ve never met a person who finished a book they loved and felt bad about it. There is genuinely no downside to reading a book you love.

But if you ask a non-reader why they don’t read, they’ll say: it’s boring, what’s the point, who cares? And somewhere in that answer is a teenager who once loved being read to and then hit a fracture.

When my students were asked how they could tell if someone was a reader, they said things like: “they sound smarter when they speak,” “they have a good vocabulary,” “they know more about more things.” People who brag about not reading are, in my experience, often screaming for a book.

We need to catch teens before they fall off the metaphorical reading cliff. We need to do it without judgment. And we need to stop complaining that kids don’t read while handing them books they hate.

It’s that simple. And that hard.

“You have to meet people where they are,” Mel says, with her ethereal yet no-nonsense approach to life.

“What do you mean?”

“If somebody wants to do yoga because they heard they can get a better butt, or because they went to Lululemon and don’t want to feel like a poser anymore…these are all good reasons to come to the studio. That’s what I mean by meeting people where they are. You can’t teach people what they’re not ready for.”

―――

I got to thinking about meeting some of my Fifty Shades readers where they were. I have friends who really enjoyed those books: readers who used to love reading but now feel too intimidated to start again. So I decided to up their reading ante by offering them a book with more substance and just as much juice.

The Chocolate Money has been a hit so far, and I enjoyed it as well. Through the tantalizing story of a mentally ill, obscenely wealthy mother, readers are invited into a twisted fantasy world that also happens to feature some good writing.

Done. Now they are ready for their next book: this is what educators call ‘scaffolding'.’

“Any type of reading” is a platform from which to build a different reading experience.

So when people argue that “any type of reading” doesn’t really count, I ask them to pause for a moment and see it as a launchpad, not a destination.

―――

Mel continued to talk about how some yoga has been stripped of its spirituality. You get the workout portion but not much else, which is fine, too. That was her own entryway into an absolute thirst for yoga. When she started to outgrow that particular kind of practice, her desire grew into wanting to try Ashtanga or Hatha.

It didn’t matter why Mel started yoga. It only mattered how that beginning deepened her practice.

―――

When Conor Grennan, author of the hugely popular Little Princes (a book about his experience helping the lost children of Nepal) came to my former school to give a talk, he caused quite the controversy when he admitted that he originally went to Nepal to impress girls when he got home.

Some teachers felt it was sending the wrong message to students.

My experience with my English classes suggested the opposite. By offering an honest portrayal of how a shallow, selfish reason to go abroad turned into an incredible, life-altering journey — for those children in Nepal and for Grennan himself — he provided an excellent model for taking risks and doing real good.

He told the story of a friend who happened to show up in a small village in Central America while traveling. Someone’s child was very sick, and in that moment, the parents didn’t care that this man was on a trip to “find himself.” What mattered was that in his pocket he carried the penicillin that ended up saving their child’s life.

Your reasons for starting don’t have to be noble. They just have to get you there.

―――

Back to Mel.

“The girls coming out of teacher training want to be perfect right away. I try to teach them that there are things — as a teacher and as a person — that I had to earn, and that I still need to earn. To get respect from others in my field, I had to work hard, and I continue to work hard. You are never done learning. The best teachers are the best students.”

It is the same with reading. If you do have the desire to improve your literary diet, the path is simple: but it requires consistency, and you can’t tell yourself you’re not up to it.

Just as I try not to let my personal view of a book get in the way of someone else’s great read, Mel sequences her classes thoughtfully.

“For corporate yoga, I don’t ‘Om.’ If you are in an office space and you are self-conscious — many different religions sitting together, people who signed up for yoga to work out and not as a path toward self-discovery — even a small taste that piques their curiosity means I may see a few of them at the studio the following month. In Hatha, I introduce a prayer into the class, because students there aren’t surprised by it.”

―――

Some readers just want to read Fifty Shades and be left alone, just like some people practicing yoga only want the workout benefit.

And that is wonderful.

If, however, you’re interested in challenging yourself — in taking your literary or yogic practice to the next level — a little effort brings a huge reward.

Mel went from starting yoga as a workout to participating in a ten-day silent meditation retreat. I’m not saying you need to aim for Ulysses, or that Mel never uses yoga as a workout. But it is worth thinking about where a simple desire to learn can take you.

You have to start somewhere. Don’t be hard on yourself because of your starting point. I am always here to help you with your next book.

So take advantage of people like Mel and Grennan and countless others who came to a passion through beginnings that don’t really matter.

And pay attention to the journey.

―――

What was your “better butt” gateway into reading — or into another passion you now love? Share in the comments.

The blues have long been known as a way to communicate, to rebel, and to preserve stories. They are a means to cope with unfathomable cruelty and to show perseverance.

There’s so much here to discuss but, without giving any spoilers, here’s what I loved about the movie:

The Performances

From Michael B. Jordan to Delroy Lindo and Hailee Steinfeld, this cast is in full control of the material, working with a passion that clearly comes from a supportive director.

Michael B. Jordan, as the main twins, brings a menacing-yet-soft energy to the gangster brothers. He manages a fascinating collision of energy: he is dangerous in one moment, yet unexpectedly tender in the next.

The Music

Music is a language. Here, it’s also a life preserver: the only time this community can be themselves is when they’re dancing, swaying, humming, and singing to the music.

The contrast between music rooted in white culture and music rooted in black culture is stark and hard to miss: In one disturbing scene, the black community is forced to dance to music that isn’t theirs and thereby co-opted into a rhythm they didn’t choose. It is a stinging, literal metaphor for the way they were forced to move through life itself, and yet, the film highlights the quiet, radical ways people retained their dignity and humanity through the music they kept for themselves.

The Mythology

The film uses mythology as a sharp-edged allegory. It is fitting that we are dealing with vampires here; they represent the ultimate blood-sucking force: those who take over your soul and bleed you dry, much like the systems this community is fighting.

Through this lens, the movie has so much to say about cruelty, about living in the face of death every day, about the complexities of religion and music, about what makes a sinner a sinner, and so much more.

Here are some book recs for fans of Sinners (for different types of readers):

Bluebird, Bluebird by Attica Locke

✔️ Perfect For: Readers who want a story they can feel, where the music, the landscape, and the mystery all share the same haunting, rhythmic pulse.

🚫 Not For: Readers who want a “cozy” mystery. This is a rural noir that is bleak and gritty, focusing heavily on the racial hostilities of East Texas.

Reader Personality: 🔪 A Killer Read

Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil by John Berendt

✔️ Perfect For: Anyone who loves with atmosphere, eccentric community dynamics, and a dark and twisted portrait of Savannah.

🚫 Not For: True Crime fans expecting a fast-paced mystery: The crime doesn’t happen until halfway through: this is a character-based novel first, and a murder trial second.

Reader personality: ☕ Espresso at Midnight, 🕰 Fragments in Time, 🌍 Passports & Paperbacks

The Love Songs of W.E.B. DuBois by Honoree Fanonne Jeffers

✔️Perfect For: The “Plot Junkie” who also craves a sweeping, 800-page generational epic that tracks the stark contrasts of history.

🚫 Not For: Anyone intimidated by a massive cast: if you aren’t willing to keep track of a family tree and push through the book’s heft, you’ll struggle. But, wow, is this a great story.

Reader personality: ☕ Espresso at Midnight, 💋 The Juicy Past, 🕰 Fragments in Time

James by Percival Everett

✔️Perfect For: Fans of subversive “re-tellings” that reclaim agency and voice through sharp wit and high-stakes survival.

🚫 Not For: Readers who want a beat-for-beat retelling of Huckleberry Finn. The final third takes a sharp turn.

Reader personality: 🕰 Fragments in Time, ☕ Espresso at Midnight

Sing, Unburied, Sing by Jesmyn Ward

✔️ Perfect For: Readers who want a lyrical, ghostly Southern Gothic where the past is a physical weight the characters must carry.

🚫 Not For: Readers who dislike Magical Realism or “flowery” prose. The novel prioritizes mood over plot.

Reader personality: 🕰 Fragments in Time, ☕ Espresso at Midnight

The Prophets by Robert Jones, Jr.

✔️ Perfect For: Readers who appreciate a rhythmic, poetic exploration of rebellion and the visceral strength of the human soul. This novel blends the lyricism of Toni Morrison with a bold, queer perspective.

🚫 Not For: Readers who prefer a single-POV or linear narrative: the book features a massive cast and the story shifts between plantation life, ancestral visions, and different people’s consciousnesses.

Reader Personality: 🕰 Fragments in Time, ☕ Espresso at Midnight

The Reformatory by Tananarive Due

✔️ Perfect For: Fans who appreciate how a ghost story can be used to mirror the very real horrors of historical injustice.

🚫 Not For: The faint of heart. The writing can be both haunting and intense: It’s a 500+ page commitment that focuses on systemic cruelty, so it’s definitely not a light weekend read.

Reader Personality: 🪽 Fiction With Wings

Which books would you add here?

Through Harry Potter, we see the devastation of the loss of a parent and the unexpected growth that can follow. Through The Hardy Boys we live out our innermost desire for adventure, and with Goodnight Moon we learn to look at our surroundings as each playing its own part in the interconnectedness that we all crave.​

Those of us who don’t read might have had a negative experience with reading: perhaps a teacher was hard on us when we couldn’t read properly, and so we pushed the book away and connected reading with embarrassment and punishment; perhaps we were forced to read a book we didn’t like because someone else thought we should, and we now associate reading with boredom or loss of choice.​

Whatever the reason, and no matter how long it takes, I believe that you can find the right book that speaks to you: you already possess the tools.​

You might think: “Well, what’s the point of this Substack?”​

Answer: I have a passion for reading, and I saw that some students shared that passion, so I started Book Talks at the high school where I taught. The trick was not preaching to the choir, but finding a way to bring teenagers into the discussion who were not “by nature” readers, or at least didn’t see themselves as such. What started off as a small group eventually grew to encompass about thirty students, all excited by a communal conversation about books.

By watching friends reacquaint themselves with reading, and seeing the pleasure it brought them, I realized my passion lay in connecting the right books to the right readers.

The point of this Substack is to feed your passion for reading if you have one, and to ignite it if you don’t.

Through working with both adults and teenagers, The Book Dumpling takes into account people’s different personalities and tastes, which lead to distinctive criteria for choosing the right book: the book that gives you that sense of accomplishment upon completion, the read you relish or battle over with a friend, over a cup of coffee or a glass of wine.

To say everyone would appreciate and like the same book is like saying that everyone in a room will have the same taste in food, movies, or music. It just doesn’t work that way.​ And it’s okay to not agree on a book. In fact, this leads to fantastic conversations and discussions. Someone else’s tastes are not a reflection on you.

By creating this Substack, I hope you’ll peruse the posts to find something you like, something that makes you think and leaves you with a sense of community, knowing there are other people out there who also loved this character, this idea, that turn of phrase. Something you can draw on when you want to contribute your opinion to a discussion at a party, or when you’re trying to answer a question on Jeopardy!

From graphic novels to plays, magazine articles to op-eds, prose to poetry, there really is something out there for everyone.

The only rule here at Book Dumpling is this: everyone is a reader: you just need the right book.​

Please forward this to anyone you know who might be interested in following along!

2004: it’s a snowy Sunday night and thousands of people are packed into Montreal’s Bell Centre, waiting for the emergence of the toned, dancer‑phenom, Ms. Britney Spears.

My friends and I watch a fleet of girls donning barely‑there pants and clock the few guys in the third row holding binoculars, looking around to see if anyone can see them looking.

A young man approaches the group of girls next to me.
“Interesting, I never took you for a Britney fan.” The girl shakes her head:
“Oh no, I’m only here because I got free tickets. I would never pay to come see her.”
“Yeah, my girlfriend dragged me,” he shrugs, and leaves.

Once the spectacular stage of The Onyx Hotel Tour lights up and Britney emerges in a leather‑Matrix outfit, I get an idea of what these two look like at a Ben & Jerry’s on free‑cone day.

The concert is great: fun to watch Spears dance and gyrate, reminiscent of Madonna’s glory days.

We all have our guilty pleasures. The trouble is, we tend to judge people dramatically when the pop‑culture laundry airs.

As a pop‑culture junkie—who runs the gamut from Breaking Bad to Bridgerton, from museums to The Summer I Turned Pretty, from Pedro Almodóvar to Wicked, I’m not insisting that the gatekeepers of high art read why celebrities are “just like us.” There is, however, room for more than one taste.

Don’t get me wrong, there are plenty of shows, books, films, etc. that aren’t my cup of tea. That doesn’t mean we should judge people based on only one part of the puzzle. (For example, by reading this opening story, you wouldn’t necessarily know that I’m trained in classical piano.)

No, I didn’t like Fifty Shades of Grey, but I don’t let that get in the way of recommendations I make for people who did love it. I certainly try not to judge people for their tastes (not that I’m always successful).

Without understanding what other people want in a book, and if I let judgment cloud my recommendations, I wouldn’t be very good at what I love doing.

Many years ago, a fellow English Lit major was peeved when I told him I’d gone to see the film adaptation of Michael Cunningham’s The Hours, a book that weaves together Virginia Woolf’s writing and life with a modern‑day narrative:
“The fact that Nicole Kidman was cast as the inimitable Virginia Woolf is disturbing,” he sighed, then stalked off, leaving me more unsettled by his outrage than by the casting itself.

Why do we care which movies people see and, by extension, which books others read and which music they listen to?

When I taught drama, the students in my class were asked to keep an observational, anonymous judgment journal:
“What a loser, Justin Bieber is for girls.”
“What an emo. I bet she goes home and cries all night.”
“Who the hell listens to country music?”
“Ew. I hate rap.”

The most repetitive judgments had to do with other people’s tastes:

Again, I’m not immune to judging, no one is. I do, however, try to maintain awareness of how often I’m judging and what, exactly, I’m reacting to. When someone else’s taste bothers me that much, it usually says more about my own issues than about theirs.

By judging a book’s cover too soon, you lose out on the majority of the character development.

Try keeping a judgment journal of your own for one day. You might see that your own biases are causing you to miss out on some truly interesting people.

And who knows: Given the chance, maybe James Joyce himself would have been titillated by “Toxic.”