The Year of the Flood by Margaret Atwood

5/5 stars

What's it about? In this second book of the MaddAddam trilogy, we follow Toby and Ren, two members of the God’s Gardeners, a pacifist religious sect that celebrates all life as sacred—and warns of a cataclysmic species-ending event that occurs in this book (and that I wouldn’t dare spoil here). A violent, profound, and prescient work.

How’d I find it? I collect Atwood’s US first editions, and this particular copy was salvaged from the donations bin at a DC library.

Who will enjoy this book? If you like dystopian fiction à la Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel, the MaddAddam trilogy will speak to you. Start with Oryx and Crake.

What stood out? Aside from Atwood’s writing, which impresses me every time I read her work, the expansion of the world she laid out in Oryx and Crake contains depth, creativity, and character building that distinguishes outstanding fiction. The reality in The Year of the Flood resonates in 2026, with its corporatization of society, highly policed citizenry focused on consumption and image, and the reckless God complex of Big Tech. At first I struggled to keep Toby and Ren’s stories separate, since their journeys have similar stops, but once they diverge and connect with the events of Oryx and Crake, the toggling between perspectives and timelines was less disorienting.

Which line made me feel something? This speech from Glenn/Crake: “…that’s how people got the idea of the immortality of the soul — it was a consequence of grammar. And so was God, because as soon as there’s a past tense, there has to be a past before the past, and you keep going back in time until you get to I don’t know, and that’s what God is.”

Portalmania by Debbie Urbanski

3/5 stars

What's it about? Urbanski ruminates on parenthood, asexuality, marital rape, and transformations in these nine speculative stories in which—you guessed it—gateways abound.

How’d I find it? I spied this incredible cover on the new and recommended shelf at Powell’s and had to give it a read.

Who will enjoy this book? Fans of Marie-Helene Bertino’s Exit Zero might appreciate these stories.

What stood out? I loved the recurrence of portals as a through line for these tales, along with their rules: a portal appears to the person meant to find it, one can see the world on the other side, and their smell and texture vary greatly. The themes of asexuality and marital rape are the most prominent here, and, while the author acknowledges as much, the stories tend to be different shades of the same idea, diluting the power of Urbanski’s message.

Which line made me feel something? From “The Dirty Golden Yellow House:” “She is in menopause, in case that isn’t obvious, has been for decades, a state of being caused, in her case, by a ceremony of her own doing, her power based not on fertility or mothering or lactating but on the opposites: aridity, conclusions, and destruction.”

The Stalker by Paula Bomer

2/5 stars

How’d I find it? This was one of Lit Hub’s most anticipated books of 2025, and any character marketed as “an Untalented Mr. Ripley” has my interest.

Why not 3 or more stars? Our titular stalker is as cruel and power-hungry as any Patrick Bateman, but without the resources and status to take his sadism to the next level. Doughty evolves not a bit over the course of the novel, so we spend 200+ uncomfortable pages in his self-aggrandizing brain, penis praise and all, as he manipulates, abuses, and exploits everyone around him. I couldn’t bear it.

The Erotic Potential of My Wife by David Foenkinos

3/5 stars

What's it about? To overcome his obsession with collecting, Hector decides to fall in love. His new wife Brigitte unwittingly offers him the possibility of his greatest collection yet: moments of her washing the windows. Absurd and lighthearded.

How’d I find it? I loved Charlotte and have been looking forward to reading more Foenkinos ever since. This copy came from the French language section at Powell’s, which often harbors a treasure or two.

Who will enjoy this book? The Erotic Potential of My Wife is a more mature yet equally zany love story for fans of Boris Vian’s classic L’écume des jours (curiously titled Mood Indigo in translation).

What stood out? This silly novel offered chuckles throughout, even when Hector exposes himself at a dinner party. Foenkinos gives his supporting characters their moments; Laurence, the wife of Hector’s best friend Marcel, doesn’t disappoint. One bête noire: a latent misogyny that feels so French lurks in the prose. I noticed it, found it disappointing, and was able to enjoy myself regardless.

Which line made me feel something? Sick burn (translation my own): “Brigitte no longer washed the windows to satisfy her husband’s desires (they used an American technique that consisted of spacing out cleans longer and longer (the Americans had a knack for calling obvious techniques American)).”

Loop by Brenda Lozano, translated by Annie McDermott

2/5 stars

How’d I find it? Lost Avenue Books read this for its April book club pick.

Why not 3 or more stars? I loved the idea of Loop, how the speaker chronicles the experience of her lover being away in an unraveling à la Penelope’s shroud. The allusions to myth, the diary-like setup—there is much to admire here. For this reader, the patterns and repetitions were tenuous, and many of the recurring questions too precious in style for my taste.

The Beauty of the Husband by Anne Carson

4/5 stars

What's it about? A marriage dissolves over the course of 29 poems in this story inspired by Keats. The ever-talented Carson serves up a work of art like none you’ve encountered.

How’d I find it? We all know how I feel about Autobiography of Red, so I’m going to give anything she writes a whirl.

Who will enjoy this book? The Maggie Nelson fans should respond to this one.

What stood out? Two people meet, fall in love, weld their lives together, and grow apart over the years as trust and communication erode. Each section opens with a fragment from Keats’s oeuvre (Anne Carson hasn’t met a fragment too small) that connects the story to its wider themes of beauty and archetype. Though the word “wound” appears on the first page (nay, the very first line!), the rest of the book redeems it.

Which line made me feel something? So many strange lines to chew on: “Is innocence just one of the disguises of beauty? / He could fill structures of / threat with a light like the earliest olive oil.”

Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin

2/5 stars

How’d I find it? Multiple pals have recommended this to me, and hey, you gotta love that cover art.

Why not 3 or more stars? I offer my biggest gripe in the form of an alternate title: “Telling, and Telling, and Telling.” Indeed, the nod to Shakespeare’s famous soliloquy from Macbeth doesn’t quite work for this novel, which aims for the stars with a bazooka full of plot. As a reader, I struggled spending page time with Sam, a sniveling Jude St. Francis type who happens to be one of our protagonists. If you ignore the dialogue, the chapters that detail the creative process behind the games that Sam and Sadie build together make for some good reading.

On Writing by Stephen King

3/5 stars

What's it about? Stephen King shares his personal path to writing as a career and tips for the aspiring author. Sound advice abounds.

How’d I find it? Shoppers frequently requested this title during my time book slinging at Busboys and Poets. Had to read it for myself.

Who will enjoy this book? Try Amy Tan’s Where the Past Begins or Anne Lamott’s Bird by Bird for other blends of memoir and craft chat.

What stood out? I appreciated learning about King’s approach to the page and his writing absolutes (like him, I struggle with the hated adverb). His thoughts on writing testify to his mastery and success, with the bonus of learning the backstories behind some of his hits, like Carrie and Misery. A major takeaway on craft comes from how he advocates for firm boundaries, necessary for churning out creative work. And work it is—King has definitely put in the time. One thing that irks me: I found how King relates to gender and sex in the old school binary ways off-putting, though it doesn’t bother me in his fiction. The more you know…

Which line made me feel something? Enjoy this graphic praise of British grammar: “a British advertising man with a proper education can make magazine copy for ribbed condoms sound like the Magna goddam Carta”.

Under the Volcano by Malcolm Lowry

5/5 stars

What's it about? On the Day of the Dead in 1938, former British consul Geoffrey Firmin embarks on the last bender of his life upon the return of his ex-wife Yvonne to their home in Quauhnahuac, Mexico. A masterpiece.

How’d I find it? The Lost Avenue Book Club picked this read.

Who will enjoy this book? For another book about someone’s last day alive, check out A Simple Man by Christopher Isherwood.

What stood out? Geoffrey’s hopeless self-destruction hangs over the novel as he drinks himself into oblivion to forget his personal grief and the world’s descent into violence, the specter of World War II already on the horizon. Among the many achievements of the book is its precision in place and time; this work could have no other title. Under the Volcano is rife with symbolism, the depth of which I only grasped after reading the letter, included in my edition, from Lowry to his publisher defending the manuscript’s structure and length. Lowry had a reason for everything: the number of chapters, the Joycean ride that is chapter 11, and even the opening of the book, which takes place a year after the story’s events.

Which line made me feel something? I wouldn’t dare rob you of the book’s prettiest passages, so I’ll focus on its humor instead. Take this quip from Geoffrey to a bartender: “I love hell. I can’t wait to get back there. In fact I’m running. I’m almost back there already.”

The Renunciations by Donika Kelly

4/5 stars

What's it about? Donika Kelly finds courage and healing in an examination of the links between childhood abuse and the wreckage of a soured marriage. Powerful and devastating.

How’d I find it? Always a fan of the work put out by Graywolf Press, I read whatever Kelly publishes since discovering her debut collection Bestiary.

Who will enjoy this book? Those who appreciated In the Dream House, Carmen Maria Machado’s haunting memoir / essay collection, might admire how Kelly uses mythology to address similar themes.

What stood out? The way in which Kelly summons archetypes brings resilience to the personal tragedy of this collection; she is a storyteller, an interpreter, an oracle. The poems titled “Dear—” that appear in both the past and present sections contain line for line the book’s most stunning verse.

Which line made me feel something? From “Sanctuary”: “I call this the difficulty of the nonbeliever, / of waking, every morning, without a god. / How to understand, then, what deserves rescue / and what deserves to suffer.”