The Continental Affair by Christine Mangan is a literary roller coaster ride through Europe in the 1960's. Louise and Henri are complex characters on the run, dragging the baggage of their pasts, from Granada to Istanbul. The high points of the ride include the vivid portraits of the Alhambra, the streets of Paris and the bazaars of Istanbul. The pace slows when the protagonists, not always sympathetic, pause for introspection or reflection.

Book clubs will enjoy discussing the characters and their motivations, the prose itself, the use of flashbacks, and, of course, what happens after the ride ends?

Ruben Degollado's debut collection of tightly linked short stories, The Family Izquierdo, is a masterpiece in both its construction and content. Short stories are not my favorite genre, but these are so well-written and so skillfully connected that each one flows seamlessly into the next, creating a compelling narrative. Each story focuses on richly drawn characters and defining events in the lives of three generations of one Mexican-American family in the Rio Grande Valley. Degollado writes with passion and deep respect for Izquierdo family members, their love, their faith, their imperfections and their grief. Readers will see their own families on each page. Book clubs will find many topics to discuss: cultural and religious values; relationships among siblings and between parents and children; the importance of family rituals and traditions; and the consequences of fear and grief.

Ann Hood's Fly Girl made me nostalgic for the days of my youth when I, too, watched with admiration as the TWA flight attendants walked confidently, in their high heels, through the airport, pulling their roller bags behind them. To a young girl, they seemed so worldly, so competent, and so "put together," in their navy and red uniforms. I was impressed with the glamour of flying, but totally ignorant of the required training. Much later, as a business traveler, I marveled at the skill required to cope with mechanical issues, obnoxious passengers, and medical emergencies.

Hood skillfully documents the technical and historical aspects of flying and the human experiences, good and bad, of her passengers. She also chronicles her own development as a woman and as a writer.

Anyone who has ever traveled by air will enjoy this look behind the scenes. Book clubs, especially those members of a certain age, will enjoy comparing the good old days of the sexist skies with today's cheaper, no frills flying, TSA inspections and mask mandates.

Lisa Hsaio Chen introduces Alice, a Taiwanese immigrant who lives and works in NYC. When she is not working as a freelance video editor, Alice devotes her time to her “project,” a study of a Taiwanese performance artist, and to the care of her father who lives on the west coast. Her father is an alcoholic who is sinking inexorably into dementia.

Like a permeable Venn diagram, the parts of Alice’s life overlap and shift. She grapples with the concept of project and the passing of time, with the definition of art and the meaning of life. Do projects simply fill our time? Do they give life meaning? Is living a project because it has a beginning and an end? Are relationships projects? How do we measure the worth of a life or the value of time? Is just living life an art?

Chen’s prose is crisp and vivid. Although a knowledge of the art world would we helpful, it is not necessary to the enjoyment of her book. She poses questions that writers, artists and book clubs will enjoy discussing and will continue to ponder long after the discussion ends. I found myself playing with the words that we use to describe time. We save time, kill time, spend time and buy time. We bide time, waste time and share time. In the end, of course, like Alice and her father, all we have is the lifetime and the projects and relationships that give it meaning.

Emily is working toward having it all: her dream house, a lovely garden, a satisfying career and a budding romance. But something, or rather someone, is missing. She is not at home in her own house. She has spent the last ten years searching obsessively for her big brother, her childhood hero and protector. She knows that Stephen is homeless, just another invisible man struggling to survive on the streets.

Stephen is cold, wet, hungry, physically and emotionally exhausted. Since his release from prison, he is alone, having lost even his homeless friends due to their reliance on drugs and alcohol to cope with their pain and alienation. His only escape from misery is his love of birdwatching, a hobby he shared with Emily when they were inseparable children.

A chance encounter reunites the siblings, but their way home to each other is not assured. They are plagued by small annoyances like tobacco in Emily's pristine house and serious resentments, family secrets, deceit, denial and overwhelming guilt.

Book clubs will find many themes to discuss including family relationships, estrangement, the ripple effects of choices, bullying, social issues like homelessness and substance abuse.

Until reading Carrot Quinn's memoir, The Sunset Route, I held a decidedly romantic view of hopping freight trains and traveling to faraway destinations. I envied my brother's teenage train escapades despite his broken wrist due to a poorly timed leap from a train. Quinn writes vividly of the freezing cold, the dirt and grit, the deafening noise, the inability to breathe in tunnels, and the absence of bathroom facilities. Not so romantic. I felt the cold, the grime and the fear, as well as the exhilaration. And yet Quinn chooses the hardships of the rails over the hunger and cold of her schizophrenic mother's apartment in Alaska. She chooses the Sunset Route instead of the warmth and balanced meals of a home in Arizona with her grandmother and abusive grandfather.

Despite the poetry of her writing, Quinn's memoir is painful to read. I wept for the physical and emotional abuse she and her brother experienced in Alaska. I was outraged by her father's rejection and abandonment of his family. I was appalled by the failures of schools and social programs to assist the most vulnerable among us.

The Sunset Route is a tribute to one woman's courage and resilience. With the balm of nature, the love of literature, and the support of some truly unforgettable characters, Carrot Quinn courageously transcends the brutality of her childhood. I will think of her when I hear the train whistle tonight from the warmth of my bed.

Sounds Like Titanic chronicles the experiences of a young woman from Appalachia who becomes a professional, but mediocre, violinist. She travels the country in a battered RV with fellow musicians to pay for an Ivy League education. Belatedly, she discovers that her lack of talent is no obstacle because the microphones are dead. The audience hears only a CD that "sounds like Titanic."

I was sure that my own experiences in KY, NYC, and academia would compel me to empathize with the author as she incurs a mountain of debt, emotional scars and physical pain, but the snark factor got in my way. She seems to snicker at the victims of the fraud, like the "brassy haired middle-aged women," the "Kansans in FDNY baseball caps," and those who believe she has a "real gift."

This book will have more appeal to young adults who will enjoy discussing themes of authenticity, college debt, and gender roles, while poking fun at American culture. Adult readers in mid-America may identify more with the victims of the fraud and less with the author and her fellow musicians.

Some books are like a rich dessert or a fine wine. They need to be savored slowly to be truly appreciated. The Kinship of Secrets is such a book. Eugenia Kim's characters are flawed and complex. They are brave in the face of war but fearful of family secrets. Cultures and traditions clash as two sisters, separated by the Korean War, struggle to find commonality as well as their own personalities when they are finally reunited. It is a painful story, beautifully told.
Book clubs will find a wealth of topics to discuss: parent-child relationships; sibling bonds and conflicts; the role of secrets within families; the bonds of friendships; and the difficulty of transition from one culture to another.
I recommend this book to anyone who loves language, powerful storytelling, and well-developed characters.