For Americans, the idea that the government would mandate that couples could have only one child is the stuff of dystopian novels. It is not real life. But in 1980, the Chinese government did just that, and in the sweep of a pen created a law that dizzyingly overturned hundreds of years of Chinese culture: Large families not only provide economic sustenance now, but also care for the elderly later.

Written by Mei Fong, a Pulitzer Prize-winning reporter for the Wall Street Journal who was born in China and lived much of her life there, this book looks at the unforeseen consequences of this Orwellian policy—ramifications so severe, so dire and so ominous that China has reversed the one-child policy and now allows (many) couples to have two children. (Of course, they first have to apply to the government for permission.)

The book is rife with horror stories about the human impact of the one-child policy:
• Find out how China enforces the one-child policy by paying someone in the neighborhood to keep track of who has a child and if there is an "out-of-plan pregnancy."
• Find out the truly horrific and violent ways the one-child policy was enforced.
• Find out why "out-of-plan" children—and there are some 13 million people in China who fit this description--are denied a lifetime of public services, including education and health care.
• Find out why "birth planning" officials, as well as physicians, were paid bonuses for the number of abortions and sterilizations they achieved.
• Find out why there was a rash of infanticide and gendercide in a culture that values males over females.
• And if the girl babies are aborted or killed/abandoned at birth, who will all those boy babies marry one day? Find out the effect of a nation where the boys are so spoiled they are nicknamed "Little Emperors" and then grow up to be lonely bachelors.
• When a couple's only child dies, they are grief-stricken, of course. But find out the horrible and inhumane things that then happen to them, courtesy of the Chinese government, because they have no offspring.
• Find out why China's very future as a country could be at risk.
• And here is the ultimate irony: The vast majority of China's young couples today truly think that one child is just fine and have no desire for more. Find out the not-so-surprising reason why.

This book is imminently readable and sprinkled throughout with the author's first-hand observations and poignant stories of the sometimes tragic effect on real people of the one-child policy. Highly recommended.

If all you do is read the plot summary of this book—in an unnamed South American country, terrorists storm the birthday party of a Japanese electronics executive in a botched attempt to kidnap that country's president—you would never know that this exceptional book by Ann Patchett is actually about friendship and love.

Katsumi Hosokawa is turning 53, not a particularly notable birthday, and in a bald-faced attempt to entice him to build a factory in this backwater country, the government throws him a lavish birthday party at the opulent home of the vice president. The only reason Hosokawa agrees to attend is that the evening's entertainment is his favorite opera singer, the world-renowned Roxane Coss. But terror and fear reign when armed gunmen storm the house and take hostage well over 100 people from a myriad of countries, who speak a myriad of languages. The standoff lasts for months, and during that time the hostages and their captors eventually form what could be described as a near utopia.

Magnificently written with vividly drawn characters, this book is pure genius. The prose is so breathtaking in spots that it is almost poetic, while the storytelling—told individually from many characters' point of view—is absolutely superb. This book is a real treasure.

Bonus: The epilogue qualifies as a surprise ending—but one that also makes total sense.

Have you noticed all the hype that has surrounded this book by Chris Bohjalian ever since it was published in March 2018? Yeah, it's all true—and then some. Do find a comfy chair because this spellbinding and intelligent thriller is so engrossing and riveting you won't want to stop reading. At least, I couldn't!

Flight attendant Cassie Bowden is a party girl to the extreme, drinking so much and so frequently that she is quite accustomed to not only passing out, but also blacking out (not to mention taking her shirt off in public places and other eyebrow-raising antics). And then one morning in a Dubai she awakens in the bed of a dead man. A man she didn't even know 24 hours earlier. Who killed him? And why does Cassie remember so little? Bohjalian expertly weaves the tale of this man's brutal murder into something that is far more compelling than a run-of-the-mill thriller: It is also a fascinating psychological study into the mind of an alcoholic and compulsive liar.

Vividly written with page-turning suspense, this book is ingeniously plotted with twists and turns to keep you glued to the aforementioned chair until the very last page.

Tom Hanks can do it all. OK, come to think of it, I have never heard him sing. While we all know the two-time Oscar winner can act, now we know he can also write fiction. And write it really well. This eclectic collection of 17 highly original and wildly imaginative short stories proves that.

Each of these stories is so different from the others that readers who are not paying attention could actually think they were written by different authors. But there is one unlikely thread tying them all together—be it on a highly emotional Christmas Eve in 1953 to a futuristic time travel story: typewriters. Yeah, those old machines with ribbons and keys and carriage returns. Occasionally, the typewriter is the star of the story, but most often, it's just a passing reference and one that would be easy to miss if you aren't paying attention.

Deftly written with wit and intelligence, this book of stories is a true delight.

Quite possibly, it could happen anywhere.

From November 12, 2012 to April 1, 2013, an astonishing 86 fires were deliberately set in rural Accomack County, Virginia, a sliver of Eastern Shore land bordered on one side by the Chesapeake Bay and on the other by the Atlantic Ocean. It is a place with a rapidly dwindling population, and those who live there are, for the most part, poor, uneducated, and working class.

There were so many fires—sometimes two or three in one night—that it truly felt as if the entire county was being burned down. On purpose. And even with that many fires, whomever was setting them was getting away with it. No one saw anything until scorching orange and red flames licked the sky and the bedraggled, exhausted firefighters came roaring onto the scene. Again.

Expertly written by Washington Post reporter Monica Hesse, this book is so much more than the HOW--a factual retelling of the arson spree that so spooked and mystified this community, especially when the police finally captured the arsonists: two of their own who had grown up there, one of whom had been a volunteer firefighter for years.

It is also a fascinating and poignant exploration of the WHY—why two lovers, who were planning an outrageous, over-the-top wedding, would repeatedly set fire to abandoned structures, vacant homes and historical landmarks that dotted the rural landscape they called home. This is where Hesse succeeds so magnificently because she makes the arsonists human…so human you will think you know them. They aren't monsters. They're just regular people who were having problems—from financial to sexual. But that is also what makes "American Fire" such a chilling and frightening book to read.

Written with the utmost candor and compassion, Hesse's compelling reporting—as mesmerizing as the best storytelling—makes this nonfiction book read more like a novel. And then I remember that it's all true, and I get the shivers.

Because quite possibly, it could happen anywhere.

This is literature, perhaps even great literature. (This debut novel by Arundhati Roy did win the Man Booker prize in 1997, after all.) But that doesn't mean it is an easy book to read. Quite the opposite. It's a real challenge.

Taking place in the small Indian town of Ayemenem, this is the story of twins Rahel and Estha and their deeply troubled extended family. The plot, which involves failed marriages, illicit love affairs, deaths, horrific forms of betrayal, and two kids trying to figure it all out, is secondary to the overarching theme of how we sometimes purposely and sometimes inadvertently destroy our own lives—generation after generation after generation. It is a story about family fights, forbidden love, forbidden sex, violent spousal abuse, child sexual abuse, incest, Indian politics, and the insurmountable differences between classes in India. And through it all Roy writes with a razor-sharp sharp perception of the comedy and tragedy of the human condition. Escapist reading this is not.

What makes it great literature: This is a celebration of language and the beauty of words. Each word is carefully chosen. Each sentence is perfect. The words flow like poetry and demand to be read a second time for their sheer beauty. But this isn't poetry. It's a novel. The structure, style and extraordinary word play are highly imaginative, perhaps even the work of a genius.

What makes it challenging: This tragic story is not told chronologically, jumping primarily between two distinct times—two weeks when the twins are 7 years old and later when they are 31 years old. And sometimes the jump comes without warning, which makes it very confusing. Key plot points are revealed long before they actually occur. And even while a major part of the plot is unfolding, the action jumps in time—from one day ahead to four days behind to two weeks ahead. As the author herself says, "It begins at the end and ends in the middle." Reading this book was not relaxing; it was work!

Advice: The first chapter is dense in important information, but because it jumps around in time and introduces many characters (yay for the Kindle X-ray feature!), I decided to reread the first 20 pages, something I don't remember ever doing before. It then all clicked for me…and I was off and running.

The quick review: This is now one of my favorite books…ever. It is nearly perfect because of the brilliant way author Elizabeth Strout crafts the story. It is truly a masterpiece.

This is a tale about the Burgess family—three kids: Jim, Bob and Susan. They are grown now. Jim is a hotshot and famous attorney, who is married to Helen and living a life everyone envies. Bob, who is divorced but still best friends with his ex-wife, is also an attorney, but he has so many emotional issues and conflicts from a childhood tragedy that he is a low-power version of his big brother. Both live in New York City, having fled their home state of Maine. Susan, Bob's twin, is bitterly divorced and still lives in their small hometown of Shirley Falls, Maine, which is no longer the white enclave it once was. Somalis have been immigrating en masse, and many in town are having trouble adjusting to this significant population change. Susan's son, Zach, is 19 and troubled. Very troubled. He commits what he thinks is a prank, but others consider the act so evil it could be a hate crime.

While the plot—a classic us vs. them—is definitely engrossing, the genius of the story is rendered in the characters, the Burgess kids, their spouses and friends, as well as one of the Somalis in town. Each has his or her own subplot going on and together become a kind of mirror image of the themes of the main story: In so many ways, we are all strangers to one another. We are all in turmoil and distress. We hurt each other, sometimes on purpose and sometimes not, but we are all in need of welcome and love.

This beautifully written book is not only profoundly moving, but also an emotionally searing tale for our times.

Oh. My. Goodness. Yes, all the hype is true. This is an incredible book that broke my heart, made me laugh out loud, made me shake my head in wonder, made me cry real tears several times, and made me oh-so-sad when it ended. (Book hangover!)

Ingeniously plotted, the story begins in 1952 when the lead character, Kya, is six years old. And while the story is told chronologically from the 1950s to the early 1970s, it bounces ahead in time to 1969-70 and then retreats to the 50s-60s until the two merge. While at its core, this is the story of Kya's lonely and alarming life in North Carolina's primitive and untamed coastal marshes (the '50s and '60s), it is also—around the edges—a murder mystery (1969-70).

Kya, the youngest of five children, lives in a dilapidated swamp shack with her impoverished parents and siblings—until one by one, they leave. Shy and terrified, the abandoned Kya does what no child should have to do: survive on her own. This is the story of not only her survival, but also her triumphs and redemption. It is a story about prejudice, evil, abuse and hate, as well as a story of the transformative power of love.

Bonus: This is also a love story to the coastal marshlands. The descriptions of the flora and fauna are so detailed and the imagery so vivid, that the reader can totally visualize the lush land and teeming waterways—if not actually feel the need to scratch at nonexistent mosquito bites! The book is filled with facts that are presented in such a fascinating and utterly interesting way, that I found myself wanting to know more about everything from female fireflies' bizarre and cruel mating habits to why seagulls have a bright red spot on their beaks and what creates the iridescence of a hummingbird's golden-red throat.

This is a must-read book!

This truly exceptional book by Hanya Yanagihara is a literary masterpiece. It is, quite possibly, a work of genius. It is also the saddest, most upsetting book I have read—perhaps ever.

This is not a book I would casually recommend to anyone. It is dense. It is intense. It is more about misery than joy, and it sucks the reader down into that misery like quicksand. It is desolate. There is (extremely) disturbing violence. More than anything, it is absolutely, totally heartbreaking. (See below for my reasons why you should read a book that is so melancholy and deeply sorrowful.)

This is the story of four college friends and roommates—Willem, Malcolm, JB and Jude—who presumably, although it is only implied, went to Harvard. The book begins soon after they have graduated and ends decades later. Brilliant and creative, each is flawed in some important way. Eventually, the story focuses more on Jude, the most damaged and broken—physically and psychologically—of the four men, who was abandoned as an infant and was severely abused, both physically and sexually, throughout his childhood. He shields and protects the dark and tragic secrets of his past from his three very close friends. We readers gradually learn the gritty, obscene and absolutely appalling details of Jude's past, but only in bits and pieces, until eventually all is revealed. And it is truly horrific. This is not for the weak-hearted. The one thread of hope that runs throughout the book is the salvation we find in the love of enduring and abiding friendship.

So…why read a book like this, a book that is nothing but depressing and will make you feel absolutely wretched? One simple reason beyond the fact that it is truly incredible literature: It will make you a better person. It will give you empathy and understanding for those who are suffering unimaginable curses of their past. If you love someone who is depressed, suicidal, or engages in self-harm, this may give you more understanding so you can perhaps help or comfort—even if it's only in a small way.

This is definitely not a book that I can say I enjoyed reading. Quite the opposite, in fact. But I am in awe of it. And that counts for a lot. (Near the end of the book is this line: "What he knew, he knew from books, and books lied, they made things prettier." NOT this one!)

Told with remarkable perception of the human psyche, this elegiac work of art will haunt me for a long time to come.

If you read this book, you will never hold a dime—yes, a simple 10-cent coin—in your hand again and think of it in the same way. No spoilers here! I won't tell you why, but trust me that it is worth reading the book just to find out.

The Civil War has ended. The wilds of Texas are unruly, to say the least. Captain Jefferson Kyle Kidd, age 72, is old and tired. Widowed with daughters who now live in Florida, he earns his meager way in life by traveling from town to town setting himself up in auditoriums reading selected articles from newspapers—the news of the world. And then an old friend, who is a freed slave, presents him with a 10-year-old white girl, Johanna. When she was six-years-old, her parents and sister were brutally murdered by the Kiowa, while Johanna was kidnapped by the tribe. Four years later she has been rescued. Would Captain Kidd return her to her nearest kin, an aunt and uncle living on the other side of Texas? Because he is an honorable man, he does so. Johanna is not your typical 10-year-old white girl. She has been totally brainwashed by the Kiowa and is fighting her reunion into civilized society every step of the way. She speaks only the Kiowa language, having forgotten every word of English she ever knew. The two set off on what can only be described as an adventure…a highly emotional adventure.

Bonus: Author Paulette Jiles prodigiously researched this era in Texas's history, so as the story springs from the page, so do many facts and figures about life in what can only be described as the wild west of the 1870s.

While the story is slow-moving and occasionally cumbersome early on, it is ultimately engaging in a way that will grab your heart and make you cheer. It is both tender and tough.

Warning! This book will induce a book hangover.

This is a story about family. Everyone's family. The family in which we are born and the family we create. The expectations for our life others have for us and the expectations for our life we create ourselves. This beautifully written book by Jean Thompson is for anyone who "left home" to build a life independent of their birth family—be it in a place far away or just down the street—but it will especially resonate with those who were born in the mid-1950s and were teenagers in the early 1970s.

Beginning in 1973, the book follows three generations of the Erickson family of Grenada, Iowa. Of solid Norwegian descent, they are tall, blond and Lutheran. They farm the land, but even if they have other jobs, it really all comes back to the land and their place in it, a place that has been carved out for generations. But their baby boomer children have other ideas, ideas of change that cause upheaval and heartbreak.

Randy and Audrey Erickson have four children, all of whom are born at the peak of the baby boom years. Anita is beautiful and eagerly embraces the path of an early marriage and children—until she realizes she is missing something important. Ryan is smart, albeit confused, and has one goal in life: get the heck out of Iowa. Blake is happy living in his hometown, happy to just go along. Torrie has big goals like her brother, Ryan, but something horrific happens that ends those dreams…until a new dream takes its place. Their older cousin, Chip, a misfit if there ever was one, has recently returned from Vietnam.

While the plot moves the story along, it is definitely secondary to the characters, who really drive the narrative. This is not a page-turner; in some ways, it's the opposite because it is the kind of book—with its keen observations and remarkable insight—that will make you stop reading and just ponder for a minute or two.

This extraordinary novel by Geraldine Brooks tells the biblical story of King David in such a compelling and riveting way that you will wish she would do the same for all the holy scriptures! Told in the first person by the prophet Natan (Nathan), who spent his entire life by David's side as his trusted visionary, the book presents this towering figure in a way that will truly resonate.

David was the king of two combined kingdoms, Israel and Judah, and his life story is rife with tales of love and lust, heroism and hatred, war and peace. He famously fought and killed Goliath. He waged many deadly battles and commanded a people with his charm, charisma and good looks. He was an extraordinary musician with many of the Bible's psalms credited to him. And while the Bible only hints, albeit very strongly, at the true nature of the relationship between David and his best friend, Jonathan, this book spells it out very clearly.

While remaining true to the scriptures, Brooks has vividly colored outside those lines to create characters, settings and action that flesh out the stories so they just pop off the page. You'll never read the Bible the same way again!

Advice: If you aren't familiar with or only have a vague memory of the biblical story of David, I highly recommend that you read 1 Samuel 16-31, 2 Samuel, and 1 Kings 1-2 either before or while you are reading this book. It's a fascinating way to see how closely the author sticks to the narrative of the Hebrew scriptures but also fills out the story in such a lively and readable style.

Oh, this book broke my heart. But in a good way, because the powerful and profound message it delivers speaks the truth. It is raw. It is brilliant. It is deeply affecting. It is impossible to read this book and not feel stunned by it.

Niru is 18 and in his senior year at an unnamed elite high school in Washington, D.C. that is located on the grounds of the Washington National Cathedral. (St. Alban's School, obviously, but it's not named as such.) His best friend is Meredith, who goes to National Cathedral School (again, not named). She loves Niru…actually, she is in love with Niru. Life is good. Both come from incredibly wealthy, successful and powerful families. Niru has been accepted to Harvard early decision, and he is a star on the school's track team. But he is harboring a deep secret, one that is tearing him apart. He confesses it to Meredith: He is gay. When his very strict, very conservative Nigerian parents discover his secret, Niru's world is shattered. His parents, who are deeply appalled and genuinely distressed, do everything they can to "correct" what they perceive as a deep-seated character flaw. And then tragedy strikes and changes everything. Because no matter how brilliant, kind and talented he may be, Niru is still a scary black man in the eyes of so many.

Written by Uzodinma Iweala, this short book's strength is twofold: vivid, true-to-life characters and mesmerizing storytelling. I was completely immersed in the story, almost as if I had crawled inside the book and become a part of it. The result is a treasure that will stay with me for some time.

Bonus: Read the acknowledgements at the end—totally worth your time.

I liked this book! And it would appear that based on many of the reader reviews this is distinctly a minority opinion.

Granted, it's not great literature, but most definitely it is not as awful as so many are depicting it. Written by Cynthia D'Aprix Sweeney, this is a story about well-off New Yorkers and their bad boy (or bad girl) ways. And it's fun to read, even though the plot is fairly—but not entirely—predictable.

The four Plumb siblings, Leo, Beatrice, Jack, and Melody, have known for decades that when Melody, the youngest, turns 40, they will inherit what their eccentric father thought of as nothing more than a small nest egg. A bit of extra money in midlife to pay down a mortgage or put a kid through college. Nothing life-changing. But their deceased daddy didn't count on a runaway stock market that left the little nest egg hurtling toward $2 million. Then their equally-eccentric mother, who is the fund's trustee, is forced to use "the Nest," as the kids call it, to bail out one of the sibs after a scandal and keep the family name out of the gossip pages. The problem is that the others were totally counting on this money—as in, they could each be financially ruined if they don't get it. But the book is so much more than that. The four are each having a life crisis—the kind that money can't fix. And that is the heart and soul of the story.

The book is an interesting examination of the power of money—actually, just the idea of money—for good and evil and how that power can take over and distort an otherwise good life.

Poetry. Sheer, beautiful, pure poetry. But it's prose. Of course, it is. This is a novel. And. Every. Word. Is. Perfect. That is what makes it poetry. That is what makes the language sing. This book is worth reading just for the writing.

Jojo is 13, almost a man, but still very much a boy. Because his drug-addicted mother, Leonie, is aloof toward and neglectful of her children, Jojo becomes his baby sister Kayla's surrogate parent. Their bond infuriates Leonie. Her man is about to be released from prison in Parchman, Mississippi, and she is going to drive three hours to get him, along with her friend Misty and the two kids. Jojo and Kayla live with their grandparents, Pop and Mam, and this road trip, which is shrouded in danger, makes Pop very nervous—and for good reason. Pop can't make himself go with them, as he was once an inmate there himself. And he has some horrific, bone-chilling tales to tell about his time in prison.

What happens on the drive up and back, as well as in the days following make up the bulk of this novel as the story holds up the past and the present like mirrors to delve into the sacred meaning of family and love but especially grief, death, and the afterlife in ways both profound and passionate.

At its heart, this is a story about the South, of what it means to be white or black, of privilege and prejudice, but it is also just as much a story about America.

This is a short, but oh-so-difficult book to read. It broke my heart, but it also made me think—a lot—about all those grown-up problems from poverty to racial hatred to distant, bitter parents that endanger children and force them to grow up too fast. This is a book that will linger with me.

I admit it! I admit it! I bought and read this book by Balli Kaur Jaswal because of the title. While the book itself is only OK, the clever title should win an award.

Here's the short version: This book is so bad…it's (almost) good. Soap opera, anyone?

Nikki is 22, a recent law school dropout, and is trying to figure out what she wants to do with her life. Although she and her family live in London, she is of Punjab descent and steeped in that culture which is often repressive for women. Defying the expectations of her parents and her community, Nikki works in a bar and lives in a cheap-rent flat over the pub. She soon finds an opportunity to teach English reading and writing to older Punjabi women, all of whom are widows. While the women aren't motivated to learn English, they quickly commandeer the class time to orally share short stories they have created—erotic stories. Word spreads and the class size mushrooms, but all too soon they are threatened by a group of men who call themselves The Brothers and function as the moral police. Meanwhile, a running plotline throughout the book concerns the suspicious murder and suicide of two young Punjabi women as a backstory for the pressures for modern women of living a traditional, conservative Punjabi life.

Even if the premise and purpose of the book are sound, the execution is questionable. The plot is weak and somewhat predictable, the writing a bit flowery, and the characters are stereotypes. There is also a lot going on in this book—actually, too much. Better editing may have helped.

What does it really mean to be in a relationship? What does it mean to be in young and in love? With sparse but beautiful language, author Sally Rooney has written a (literary) love story for the ages.

Marianne and Connell grew up in the same small Irish town. She is wealthy, privileged, unloved by her family, and a social pariah. She is bullied. He is the son of a poor single mother, totally loved, athletic and popular. He is a really nice guy. They begin a relationship in their last year of school, but Connell insists Marianne tell no one; it would be too embarrassing for him. The book is the story of their multi-year, on-again, off-again love affair—one that is intense but anguished, passionate but tormented, and totally meant to be. (Or is it?)

This is a stunning, intelligent and accomplished work of literature with vividly-imagined characters and an engaging and evocative storyline, albeit thin on plot. It is tender, but also shocking. It is true to life. It is an emotional deep dive into the human psyche. After all, what does it mean to be "normal people," and don't we all struggle to some extent to be just that?

This book grabbed my heart and soul.

Part historical novel, part adventure story and part murder mystery, this intriguing book, the second in "The Hangman's Daughter" series by Oliver Pötzsch, is quite the page-turner. Underneath an intricate plot, this is also a none-too-subtle statement about Christianity—the succor and solace it can provide and the harm and injury it can inflict.

It is on an icy cold and snowy day in the winter of 1660 in a small village nestled in the Bavarian Alps that the local priest is found poisoned. And while he was obviously poisoned in the rectory, he managed to drag himself to the church where he arranged his dying body as a clue to a deeper mystery—one far greater and with more importance than just the name of his murderer. With that, the story is off and running as the hangman Jakob Kuisl (just as every town had a blacksmith and a tanner, it had a hangman), his daughter Magdalena, the physician Simon, and the priest's sister Benedikta search for a treasure hidden some 300 years ago by the Knights Templar. Of course, these four are not the only ones who are racing to find the treasure, and their opponents will stop at nothing—even murder and torture—to get there first.

Ingeniously plotted with characters that have real depth and personality, this is a captivating read. And while some parts of the story appear contrived if not actually a bit farfetched, it's all done to further what is, quite simply, a really good tale well told.

A picky historical error: Matches are prevalent throughout this story, which takes place in 1660; however, matches were not invented until 1805.

What happens when the world view you have always known inexorably shifts? Do you embrace the change as forward-thinking or fight it for all you're worth? If you simply deny that the change is real, will those words be enough to bring back the good old days? That is the fascinating premise of this remarkable novel by Barbara Kingsolver that is, more than anything else, a philosophical statement about the sociopolitical times in which we live now.

A beleaguered house in Vineland, New Jersey is the backdrop of this book that alternates between two families who have the great misfortune to live on that site. Thatcher Greenfield lives there with his family in 1874-1875. He is newly hired as the high school science teacher, but when he professes the new theories of evolution as espoused by Charles Darwin, his world is shattered when virtually everyone around him objects, insisting the Bible is the only valid reference for scientific thought. Fast forward to 2015-2016 when Willa Knox and Iano Tavoularis, both recently laid off, move into the home she inherited from her aunts. Their family's life is awash in tragedy and troubles, while they watch horrified as a man only identified as "the Bullhorn" appears destined for the presidency and global warming shifts from scientists' dire warning to real-life consequences.

The book is a fascinating exposition on the power of cultural change—change that feels uncertain and threatening, but is so deep-seated and long-lasting that it is called a paradigm shift—and how we as a society adapt to it or not.

Because Kingsolver is a creative genius, the chapters on Thatcher are written in the style of a Victorian novel, while the chapters on Willa are written in a modern-day tone. And here is fun tidbit that took me several chapters to notice: The last words of each chapter are the title of the next chapter.

Bonus: Iano Tavoularis very creatively swears in Greek, and translations are helpfully provided. Some of this is hilarious! (Beware, in case you are offended by such language in books.)

This is a deeply affecting and heart-wrenching book about forgiveness. And it's about the most difficult form of forgiveness: Forgiving oneself.

Violet Rue is the youngest of seven children in the Irish Catholic, blue collar Kerrigan family of South Niagara, New York. While there is not a lot of happiness in the Kerrigan family, there is security. But all that is rent asunder when Violet's two oldest brothers commit a heinous crime—and only Violet knows they did it. Terrified, confused and desperately unsure of herself, the 12-year-old blurts out what her brothers did when she is in the nurse's office at her school. Violet is branded a "rat" from that day on and sent far away to live with an aunt and uncle she barely knows. She is sent away for her own protection, but also because her family despises her and wants nothing to do with her. And so begins a life where she is always looking behind her, always worried, and desperately seeking something that seems so elusive: love.

Written with remarkable insight and raw candor, this emotionally-searing book by Joyce Carol Oates will stay with me for some time to come.