A chance sighting across a crowded gallery at the Metropolitan Museum of Art shouldn’t be enough to unravel four and a half decades of carefully arranged memory. But that’s exactly what happens to Daphne Fuller in Ann Patchett’s latest novel, when she and her husband notice an older man trailing
Most self-help books arrive with a system: five habits, seven laws, a morning routine to adopt by Monday. Joseph Nguyen’s “Don’t Believe Everything You Think” arrives instead with a single, almost stubbornly simple claim — that the thinking mind is not the source of wisdom we assume it to be,
A month out of the tower is not nearly enough time to learn a kingdom, let alone a neighboring one that has spent decades quietly shutting its doors to outsiders. That is the tension Margaret Owen leans into in “Rootbound,” her follow-up to “Cottagecore,” which sends Rapunzel and Eugene from
There is a particular kind of quiet that settles over a room when a picture book meant for grown-ups actually lands. Christian Watson’s “How Lucky Am I” produces that quiet. It is a slim, hand-painted volume built around a wandering skeleton named Mr Skelly, and it has no business being
There’s a particular kind of memoir that works because the writer treats you like a friend who just sat down across the table, and Emilee Hackney’s “All That’s Unseen” is exactly that kind of book. It’s warm, funny, and disarmingly candid about a childhood spent trying to be good enough
Few American criminal cases of the last several years have generated as much noise, as many competing narratives, and as little consensus as the death of Boston police officer John O’Keefe. Dave Wedge’s “Blizzard of Lies” wades directly into that noise and tries to do what years of cable news
Most thrillers spend their pages asking “whodunit.” Shari Lapena’s newest asks a colder question: how far will an ordinary, desperate couple go to keep the life they’ve built, and how long can they keep getting away with it? “Getting Away with Murder” drops the guessing game before the story even
A pregnant woman and her husband drive out to a secluded house in the woods to consider buying it, and by the time the snow starts falling in earnest, they both know they should have turned back an hour ago. That’s the setup for Freida McFadden’s “Never Lie,” and it’s
Darrow lives eight hundred meters below the surface of Mars, where he and every other Red in his mining colony have spent their lives believing they are humanity’s vanguard, drilling toward the day the planet’s surface finally blooms and their children inherit it. It’s a beautiful lie. Mars was terraformed
Phoebe Stone arrives at Newport’s grandest oceanfront hotel wearing a green dress and carrying no luggage, which is the first clue that something is off. Every other guest that week is part of the same rowdy wedding party, dressed head to toe in white, and the front desk keeps assuming
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