Until I read "The Fortunate Ones" I doubted that any more could be written about a working class boy coming in contact with one "to the manor born." Nor did I think I could be swayed by the irony of the title. I was wrong. From the start of the novel through to its finish I was captured by the first person narration of Charlie Boykin and by his encounters over time with Archie Creigh. It didn't matter that I could tell where the book was headed; this novel depends on character much more than plot. By the time I was done Charlie and Archie came to occupy the same spot in my imagination reserved until now by Gatsby and Nick. They live there still.

It's been easy for me to see the refugees at the southern border of the United States as one sea of humanity. Cummins skillfully takes the reader into the heart and life of one Mexican woman fleeing gang violence in Acapulco, trying to get her son to distant family in Denver. As we travel with her on buses, on top of trains, and on foot through the treacherous route north, we experience first hand the desperation that leads people to become refugees. I will continue to see the face of Lydia, the mother, superimposed on any news photos of refugees I see in the future. Each person has a story, and Cummins gives us one stunning example in her novel.

An engaging well documented history of Yale finally beginning to accept women in the fall of 1969, not for benevolent motives, but because it was losing applicants to coed colleges. The lack of preparation for women, including for their safety and reluctance to change the ratio of men to women makes it clear that women were not really welcome. Many interviews flesh out the history of grass roots movements to finally make Yale genuinely coed, despite much resistance.
I graduated from Radcliffe in 1969 with a Harvard degree. I learned much about the difference between Yale and Harvard reading this. Clearly Yale needed women because they were losing them to Harvard!

Retired New Yorker copy editor Mary Morris shares her lifelong love of Greece with a combined memoir, history, travel guide to all things Greek. Along the way the reader learns much from her witty style. Best suited to someone already familiar with a little Greek culture, the book highlights the difficulty of learning both ancient and modern Greek, the travails of traveling as a single woman, and the deep influence of Greek on English. Her self deprecating humor and refusal to take things too seriously adds to the enjoyment.

Jane Harper's third novel, a stand alone, again takes place in the vast outback of Australia. Once again she focuses on a death with few possible suspects. Amazingly, she manages to turn the plot many ways without ever revealing the culprit until the very end. I read this in one sitting, forgoing dinner and sleep to find out what secrets were hidden in this rural shepherding family. Neither violent nor focuses on a damsel in distress, Harper provides a gripping plot sure to hold your attention.

Anne Tyler again focuses her keen eye on the kind of woman, Willa, who rarely takes the center of a novel. Willa, ironically named since she has had no will of her own for most of her life, leaves Arizona for Baltimore. There she will find a collection of quirky, challenging and overlooked characters who will test her view of herself. Despite her lifelong passive nature, Willa finds unexpected strengths in this welcome addition to Tyler's focus on working class Baltimore.

For every reader who has ever had more epic Pinterest fails than successes, Abbi Waxman delivers the delightful novel "Other People's Houses." Centered on Fran, mother of three, the book slyly and humorously shows us the underside of the other three families on the street. Fran drives the car pool for the families' seven children, though she is the only driver. She is that kind of woman, generous to and beyond a fault. While my kids are grown now, Waxman took me back to my 30s when I endlessly compared myself--usually unfavorably--to the other moms who seemed to have it together in a way I could never achieve. As an added bonus for readers of her first book "The Garden of Small Beginnings," Waxman delivers a cameo appearance of Lili and her Danish love. More than a take-down of suburban family life, "Other People's Houses" brings sympathy and affection to the real struggles of four families. And adds a good dose of humor to boot.