When libraries burn, it is more than a building and its contents that are aflame. It is our ideas, our beliefs, our culture, our history, and even our very humanity that is also caught up in the inferno. The largest library fire in the United States occurred on April 29, 1986 when the Central Library of Los Angeles was purposely set on fire. It burned for about seven hours and damaged or destroyed more than one million books. The real losses could never really be measured in dollars and cents, since so many priceless and irreplaceable documents were incinerated.

With exhaustive research and superb description, Susan Orlean has masterfully told the story of that fire and the man whom fire authorities and arson investigators accused of setting it ablaze, but this book is so much more. It's also a tribute to all libraries and librarians, the places and people who offer free information, free books, free DVDs, free magazines, free everything—all for the price of a (free) library card. I have no doubt this book will inspire a new generation to go to library school!

Who would set a library on fire? And why? And how? And how does a library, a nonprofit institution with insurance that only covers the building and not the contents of that building, ever recover? These are the questions that Orlean answers in a way that is compelling, gripping, and absolutely fascinating. Few nonfiction books are so readable as this one.

Bonus No.1: Each chapter begins with a listing of four books that is relevant to that chapter's content. It's kind of fun to figure out what's going to happen next by reading the titles of those books, some of which are so seemingly disparate it's kind of tricky to discern the connection.

Bonus No. 2: The cover is brilliantly creative, but you have to look at it closely to fully appreciate it.

Oh, this book! This book! This is one of those rare books that I not only enjoyed from the first sentence to the last, but also it touched my heart and soul in a way I always hope will happen with each book I read but only rarely does.

Magnificently written by Ann Patchett, this is the story of the Conroy siblings, Maeve and Danny. Told in the first person by Danny over a five-decade span, it begins with a recounting of their extraordinary childhood, growing up in what was known as "the Dutch house," a mansion—with a ballroom on the third floor and a dining room ceiling decorated in gold leaf—in the suburbs of Philadelphia. But all too soon, this magical world was destroyed for the children by the parents who were supposed to be loving them and taking care of them. First abandoned by their mother, ignored by their father, and later cast out on to the street by their stepmother, Maeve and Danny only have each other. She fiercely protects Danny. He idolizes Maeve. But when the unimaginable actually happens, their loving sibling relationship is tested to the core.

This is an astute psychological study of what it means to be a family and how those relationships—no matter how damaged they may be—ultimately determine who we are as adults. And it is only by forgiving, even when everything about it seems unforgiveable, that we find real happiness and contentment in life.

The writing is bold and forthright, but when needed it's perfectly subtle and nuanced. The story is definitely one that is character-driven so the plot plays second fiddle, but even so the "what happens next" part is absolutely captivating.

Bonus: Maeve Conroy is a type 1 diabetic, as are my son and grandson. I am forever grateful to Ann Patchett for her intelligent and perceptive descriptions of what it means to live with this dreadful disease.

This is a 10-star book in a five-star world. Read it. Savor it. It's a very special book.

Great literature this is not. But great history it is.

This is a first-rate lesson in history—from 1933 to 1949 with most of the emphasis on World War II—told with real facts and imaginary characters in a plot-driven novel that will place you, the reader, on the ground in Nazi Germany, war-torn, bombed-out England, coal-mining country in Wales, frozen Russia, and in the balmy waters around Pearl Harbor on a fateful December Sunday morning. And while the dialogue is often unrealistic, and the writing a bit forced, the history lesson is riveting and one that we must never, ever forget.

Before British author Ken Follett shocked his publisher and surprised his reading public by writing engrossing, bestselling sagas about the building of medieval cathedrals, he paid his bills by penning World War II spy thrillers. So Follett is in his element in this book, the second in a trilogy about the 20th century that is officially called the Century Trilogy. (And, yes, you really should read them in order to better appreciate the characters.)

The book follows five primary families, with many supporting characters, who live in the hot zones of Germany, England, Russia, Wales, and the United States. And while there are plenty of bloody battle scenes and horrific details of Nazi behavior, the story is tempered with lots of love and sex.

Oh, this book is such a dichotomy! Much of it is absolutely wonderful, if not inspired, but just enough of it is an eye-rolling, soap opera that these melodramatic moments distract from what could have been such a powerful novel.

It's 1950. The United States won a war, the men are home, and all is well. Almost. There are spies among us, and Sen. Joseph McCarthy is going to root out this communist evil, no matter what tactics he has to take. One of his targets is the entertainment industry. Aspiring actresses Hazel Ripley and Maxine Mead met in 1945 on a USO tour in Naples, Italy. Five years later, their paths cross again in New York City. Hazel has written a play, and Maxine tricks her way into being cast for the lead role. They live in the Chelsea, a hotel whose rooms are rented more like apartments to artists of all types. Hazel is identified as a communist, and she tries to do what few did then: fight back. But her actions cost her in a big and lasting way. Meanwhile, leading lady Maxine is guarding dark and terrible secrets of her own. Their lives, so closely intertwined, are on a collision course fueled by suspicion, espionage, and hate.

Unfortunately, the writing is uneven, and some of the events—especially the opening action in Naples that brings Hazel and Maxine together—are just not believable. Still, the underlying message of this book—histrionic soap opera moments aside—rings true not only as history, but also as a warning for us today. Freedom of speech and assembly are cherished liberties we Americans must always protect.

Bonus: While Hazel and Maxine are fictional, the bohemian Chelsea Hotel is very real, and like author Fiona Davis did in "The Address" with the Dakota, she does again in this book, taking an iconic New York City building and making it come alive in a way that gives it its own pulse and heartbeat.

This is one of those rare novels that has all the components of great literature as well as a gripping, page-turning plot. Irish author John Boyne, who is one of my favorite writers of all time, has penned an extraordinary story filled with twists and turns that will keep you up well past your bedtime if you're not careful.

It's 1936 in London, and while most of the world is reeling from an economic depression, the British aristocracy is doing quite well, thank you. Handsome and enigmatic Owen Montignac is 25 years old and has just suffered a monstrous disappointment: He fully expected to inherit his uncle's estate—money, house, land, everything—but he was left with nothing. And that's a problem because Owen has racked up a gambling debt of 50,000 pounds. How he resolves this is the bulk of the plot and includes such escapades as art theft, murder, unlikely conspiracies, and even a plot against King Edward VIII and his American paramour, the twice-divorced and oh-so scandalous Wallis Simpson. Bonus: The ending gave me the shivers.

While the intricate, multifaceted plot truly is so compelling it's hard to stop reading and attend to your real life, this book shines because it is also a literary delight. The characters are fully developed—so real that they almost pop off the page. The story has something bold to say about life and love, ethics and morals, right and wrong, good and evil. It's a book that made me think—far beyond wondering what would happen next.

John Boyne is a genius writer. Read and enjoy!

This is not your typical Anne Tyler book—until suddenly, it is.

Anne Tyler has a rare gift among writers in that she can perfectly capture the minutiae of life, providing a close-up look at those tiny details that add up to something very important. In addition, she creates the quirkiest characters ever, but all of whom are unerringly believable.

The style of this book is different than the many others she has written in that the first third of it doesn't have that definitive Anne Tyler signature of quirky characters. When the book opens in 1967, we meet Willa Drake, an 11-year-old dealing with the sudden disappearance and then reappearance of her tempestuous, moody mother. Just as you're getting into that story, the chapter ends and we move to 1977 when Willa is a junior in college and contemplating an offer of marriage. Then wham! It's 1997, and Willa is a widow with two teenage sons. Then—finally—it's 2007, and Willa, now living in Tucson, Arizona with her second husband, receives a bizarre phone call to come to Baltimore, Maryland to care for a child of her son's former lover, who is hospitalized after someone shot her in the leg. And the Anne Tyler we know and love truly kicks in at this point as we meet the quirky neighbors and dive head first into the quirky life on Dorcas Road.

This book is a sheer delight to read. Like all Anne Tyler novels, this is a character-driven story where the plot is secondary. And those characters are all colorful, genuine, and memorable. It is an endearing and enthralling tale about human relationships—the families we have by birth and the families we create to fill our hearts with love.

This is a hard book to read. Let me amend that a bit. It is an engrossing, gripping, and frightening book to read. It is hard to read not because it is difficult to understand or written in a mind-boggling way; it is hard to read because it is heartbreaking. It is also one of those books that could actually change—or just slightly shift—the way you think about those who don't have enough.

Author Stephanie Land grew up in Washington state and Alaska in a family that did have enough—but barely. She started working at a young age, first babysitting and later in cafes and bars. She was making ambitious plans to go to college when she realized she was pregnant. Sadly, the father was a summer fling, who was angry Stephanie wouldn't have an abortion. Her story is one that is all too familiar. By quilting together a haphazard, convoluted, and sometimes unreliable patchwork of food stamps, WIC coupons, housing vouchers, and minimum-wage jobs, she and her daughter, Mia, managed. Barely. The primary job she held was that of a "maid." We're not talking a fancy apron in a fancy house. We're talking the cleaning woman. One or two houses a day—if she was lucky. She earned an hourly wage, and there was no sick time, vacation time, or health care. If she didn't work, she didn't get paid. And it only took one catastrophe to make her fragile house of cards come tumbling down.

It's impossible to read this extraordinarily well-written book and not feel compassion for Stephanie and all the single mothers like her who struggle every day just to get by. It's called survival, and most of us reading this book will (thankfully) never experience just how scary and degrading it is to live like this. But readers who immerse themselves in Stephanie Land's story will, I have no doubt, come away thinking differently. And that, to my way of thinking, is the true power of books.

Bonus: Go along with Stephanie into a myriad of homes and peek into some very personal and surprising details of their lives. Yes, if you're fortunate enough to employ someone to clean your house, she is most likely snooping on you!

Even though this book is most definitely not science fiction, the only way to truly appreciate it is to suspend your belief in reality. Be prepared to enter a dreamlike world and just go with it. That said, this literary time-travel novel by Pulitzer Prize-winning author Andrew Sean Greer is boldly imaginative while also serving up generous helpings of pithy life advice.

It's 1985 in New York City, and Greta Wells is having a difficult time. Nathan, her boyfriend of 10 years, has just left her for another woman, and her much-loved twin brother, Felix, has died of AIDS. Not surprisingly, Greta succumbs to depression. When antidepressants have no effect on the raging darkness shrouding her soul, she undergoes electroshock therapy. It has a bizarre side effect: Greta wakes up in 1918 where she is still Greta, living in the same house, and the same people she loves in 1985 are part of her life. Felix is alive! But just as in 1985, she has mental issues that require electroshock therapy. And that sends her to 1941. The book becomes a triptych of the three time periods with Greta living a life in each that is distinctly different, yet weirdly similar. Then it gets even more complicated. Greta is undergoing electroshock therapy in 1918, 1941, and 1985, and all three Gretas are time travelling. So while "our" Greta (circa 1985) is in 1918, the 1918 Greta is in 1941, and the 1941 Greta is in 1985—and they are ever-so-slightly changing each other's lives. (Did you follow this?)

The plot may be convoluted, but the lesson of the book is simple: No matter when we live, we experience both the wonderful and the hurtful. Life is never perfect, but it is what we make of it given what we have. But most of all, it is a magical love story—love in all its incarnations.

Bonus: The ending is perfect.

Greer has such an exceptional eye for detail—from fashion to food and culture to current events—that his writing makes each of the three years come to life in a way that is easy for the reader to envision. And while the plot is outrageously farfetched and absolutely implausible, the story works as long as the readers do their part: suspend belief and just become part of it. Hey, even the author knows it. Just look at the title!

This is a quick-to-read, fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants thriller by Jeanine Cummins that tracks in often gruesome detail the path of a mother and son as they migrate from Mexico to the United States to escape a brutal drug cartel that wants them both dead. While most thrillers are sheer fiction, this one is not. Oh sure, the characters are fictional, but this is no fantasy. It is all too real, and as a good novel will do, it powerfully depicts what is happening over and over and over again every day in Mexico and on the border of the United States. This is fiction doubling as current events.

Lydia and Sebastian lead a charmed and somewhat affluent life in beautiful Acapulco. He is a top journalist, she owns a successful bookstore, and together they have a precocious 8-year-old boy, Luca. But when Sebastian publishes an exposé on the kingpin of the local drug cartel, he and 15 members of his family are brutally executed in Lydia's mother's backyard during a quinceañera celebration. Lydia and Luca miraculously escape, and now they must flee because this cartel is still out for revenge—and will stop at nothing. This book is the story of their trek to the United States, and the suspense and action never let up. (Advice: Don't read this before you go to sleep. It will haunt your dreams—and not in a good way.)

While this is not great literature—it's a straight-up thriller and nothing more—it does waken the typical American reader to better understand the dangerous and terrifying plight of many Mexican migrants, and for this I applaud Jeanine Cummins.

About the bruhaha over "American Dirt": I have read a lot about the objections some Latinos have to a white woman writing this story—one who now lives in New York City and grew up in the Maryland suburbs of Washington, D.C. Yes, not many authors—of any ethnic descent—will get the star publishing treatment Cummins has received. And I do appreciate that inequity. Still, Cummins did extensive, years' long research for this book to make her characters and plot as authentic as possible. Many (many!) novelists write outside their lifestyle, and that is perfectly acceptable provided the research is done. To say that only a Latino/Latina can write a book like this is just not reasonable or even advisable. That said, this controversy has made me want to read more books by Latino/Latina authors, especially Luis Alberto Urrea.

What a book! This engrossing and ingeniously plotted three-generation family saga will take you back to a time and place of incredible wealth, gracious manners, and deeply-guarded secrets.

It's 1936. While the rest of the country is in the depths of the Great Depression, New Yorkers Ogden and Kitty Milton—young and fabulously wealthy—buy a vacation home in Maine. Well, it's more than that. They buy an entire island. And Crockett's Island is a slice of paradise on Earth, which is exactly what Kitty needs to distract her from one of the worst tragedies a family can suffer. They put on a brave face and proceed to live the good life, while taking care to bury the worst of their secrets and lies. But this is also the story of "the other"—Jews, blacks, and the poor—and how the Miltons' privileged and pampered lives will be forever changed, and actually seared, by their prejudice, racism, deep-seated fears, and tragic mistakes.

This is a structurally complex literary novel that jumps around in time, but instead of being jarring, it works. And that is due to the skill and creativity of author Sarah Blake, who uses the back-and-forth leaps from one year to another to set up cliffhanger plot developments that will keep you reading. The characters—and there are many—are so colorfully drawn with such distinct personalities that it's easy to keep them straight. Blake's vivid and bold descriptions of the sights and smells of the island, the sound of the lapping salt water, the scent of bayberry in a copper vase, the brass notes of jazz in a crowded club, and the oppressive heat of a New York City summer will instantly transport you to these places.

In addition to being an important literary accomplishment, this is a really good story that is creatively told and brilliantly captures a bygone era with insightful life lessons for us all.

Oh, the writing! This book by E. Annie Proulx takes place primarily in Newfoundland. Even in the summer it's cold. And windy. I don't know how she did it, but Proulx's exquisite writing mirrors the iciness of the barren land. If ice and snow had a writing style, this would be it.

But know this: This extraordinary literary novel—it did win the Pulitzer Prize and the National Book Award—is not an easy book to read.

The focus is on the characters, rather than the plot. While there is quite a cast, most of whom have Dickensian names, such as Wavey Prowse, Tert Card, Mavis Bangs, and Beety Buggit, the main character, Quoyle (no first name is ever revealed) is the centerpiece.

Quoyle is 36 and such a forlorn and pitiful failure of a man! He is overweight, born with a large, ugly chin he often hides with his hand, and has no self-confidence. Horrible things happen to him, but he bounces back, albeit a little beat up each time. His redeeming quality is his abiding and intense love for his two little girls. After his unfaithful and meanspirited wife is killed, Quoyle moves from upper New York state to remote Killick-Claw, Newfoundland, the land of his ancestors. How he manages to scrape out a living—both monetarily and physically in this harsh environment—is the crux of the plot. But the real story is the transformation of Quoyle's character from a lonely, broken man to someone who is whole again.

This is what I call an "intelligent novel." There is no page-turning suspense, no ingenious plot, no lively narrative. It is, rather, a novel that will engage your senses, drop you headfirst into the setting, and make these characters with the funny names come alive.

Proulx's exceptional eye for detail is so exacting that I could almost smell the rotten fish, see the perilous rocks of ice in the water, hear the bleating of the foghorns, taste the favorite cuisine of squid burgers and cod cheeks, and feel the bitter, piercing cold seep through the windows.

This is a book to be savored and treasured.

Magnificently written by Esi Edugyan, this is an adventure story, albeit a highly unlikely one. Just suspend your sense of reality, and go along for the magical ride. And what a ride it is!

George Washington Black (nicknamed Wash), age 10 or 11 (he doesn't really know), is a slave on a sugar cane plantation in Barbados, enduring the evil brutality of such an existence when he is plucked from the cruel, low life of a field hand to become the manservant of Christopher Wilde, the sadistic master's brother, who is visiting from England and abhors the idea of slavery. Wilde is a scientist with an affinity for flying machines. When Wash is falsely accused of murder, he and Wilde flee the island in a way unheard of for 1832 and so begins the implausible but highly entertaining escapades of George Washington Black: first on the open seas and then in Virginia, the Arctic, Nova Scotia, England, the Netherlands, and Morocco.

But this is more than a mere adventure story. It is also the story of a child. A slave. It is the story of cruelty and compassion, of fear and friendship. And most of all, it is the story of what it truly means to find freedom—even with all the limitations and restrictions society places on each of us. While the first half of the book is an adventure of place and travel, the second half is an adventure of the mind and soul as Wash tries to assimilate and understand all that has happened to him in his short life.

The story, which takes place from 1830 to 1836 when Wash is a child and teenager, is written in the first person by a grown-up Wash in a highly-educated, sophisticated voice, so that gives us a clue as to how his life evolves. It is a deep, psychological study of the injustice of slavery and the impossibility of true freedom.

It is a study of life and what it means to find one's true identity and then to love, trust, and become fully human—and, quite possibly, be happy.

Oh, this is a strange little book. It's also strangely beautiful and strangely compelling.

Who ARE you…really? Ask that question of anyone who is close to you, and you'll probably get different answers. That's because we are perceived differently by different people. And that is the crux of this debut novel by author Meng Jin.

This is the story of Su Lan as told only through the eyes of her friend and neighbor Zhu Wen, her former husband Li Yongzong, and her angry daughter Liya. And the three points of view couldn't be more different. Su Lan, an extraordinarily gifted physicist, gives birth to Liya in a Beijing hospital on June 4, 1989 amidst the Tiananmen Square massacre. She returns to her home in Shanghai mysteriously without her husband. Two years later, she is on a plane to the United States to start her life over. And when Liya is in her late teens, Su Lan dies. This is where the story really begins as Liya travels to China with Su Lan's ashes in her backpack—a land she doesn't remember—to try to solve the tragic mystery of her mother, a brilliant but soulless woman, who did everything she could to expunge her past and the people in it.

Ah, but the past can't be erased, can it? And it will always haunt us no matter how far or how often we run away or how cleverly we try to bury it. The past is real. It's the future that is only in our imaginations. "Do you believe in time?" asks Su Lan.

The novel's strange structure is a bit cumbersome and awkward at first—the first chapter is titled "The End" and the last chapter is titled "The Beginning"—but it's relatively easy to fall into the unusual rhythm. This book is so laser-focused on the characters that what little there is of a plot is only used to further the ubiquitous themes of time, space, and memory.

Bonus: There are several articulate and quite understandable descriptions of the second law of thermodynamics and the property of entropy. Go ahead! Google it. If you don't have a scientific bent, you'll probably be a bit confused (or totally confused). Then read this book for an understandable explanation.

This book grabbed me on page one and never let go. It's a riveting page-turner not because it's a thriller or a whodunit but because it's a compelling story about people…people who are acting up, while trying to do the right thing for all the wrong reasons—and utterly failing.

Longlisted for the Booker Prize in 2020, this is billed on the cover as a social satire about privilege in America. It's the story of two women—one White, one Black. One is the employer; the other is the employee. Alix Chamberlin is a privileged, wealthy, slightly dishonest mother of two adorable girls, who is used to getting her own way and always coming out on top. Her husband, Peter, is a local TV news anchor. So Peter can get a better job, they move out of New York City to Alix's childhood hometown of Philadelphia, and Alix mourns the loss of the big city. They live in a huge home in a prestigious neighborhood. Alix has a book contract, so she hires Elmira Tucker as a part-time babysitter for the girls to give her time to write. Elmira is Black, and even though she is a Temple University college graduate she is 25 and hasn't figured out what she wants to do with her life. She has no money and is about to lose her health insurance when she turns 26 in a few months.

The novel opens when Elmira receives a frantic call from Alix very late one night to immediately come get Briar, the two-year-old, and take her to the nearby grocery store for about an hour. Why? Peter (we find out later) said something very stupid on air, and their house got egged, causing one of the windows to break. Peter and Alix are calling the police, and they don't want their little girl to witness this. Elmira is all dressed up and out having a grand time at a friend's birthday party, but drops what she's doing to go get Briar, a precocious child whom Elmira dearly loves. While they are in the grocery store, the security guard confronts Elmira, accusing her of kidnapping Briar. A crowd gathers, and a witness named Kelley Copeland, captures the scene on his phone. It is this video that guides the rest of the story in ways that are hilarious, profound, degrading, shocking, and (finally) liberating.

Ingeniously plotted with superb pacing, this is a fabulous story with an important message about prejudice and expectations, deception and forgiveness, but one that is wrapped up in an intriguing storyline, brilliant (and sometimes blistering) dialogue, and colorful characters. Read it!

This is a 10-star book in a five-star world. With an imaginative structure, a riveting storyline, and incredibly vivid characters, this book by author Elizabeth Strout is one to read slowly, fully savor, and treasure.

This is the sequel to the Pulitzer Prize-winning "Olive Kitteridge," and, yes, you absolutely must read them in order. Although it is titled a novel, it's really a hybrid—as was "Olive Kitteridge"—between a short story collection and a novel. Each chapter is really a short story about a person, couple, or family living in Crosby, Maine. Olive Kitteridge is often the central character in these stories, but sometimes she makes only a cameo appearance. Still, there is a definite connecting thread through all the stories, and that's what makes it a novel.

Strout has so brilliantly crafted the character of Olive that I almost think she might be joining me on the sofa while I read. She is older now—in her 70s and 80s as the book progresses—but still a large woman with brightly-colored clothing, a big handbag, and distinct quirks, such as waving her hand over head when she says good-bye, responding "ay-yuh" a lot, and saying exactly what she thinks.

This is a book about life…and death. It's a book about life in the face of death. It's a book about life in spite of death. It's a book that will make you laugh and cry as we all must face not only the deaths of parents and friends, but also our own demise. It is a book packed with wit and wisdom and pithy life advice. But most of all, this is a book filled with grace and goodness.

Warning: Do read Elizabeth Strout's novel "The Burgess Boys" before you read this book. The chapter titled "Exiles" is essentially an epilogue of what happened to the Burgess family 10 years after that novel ends. In other words: Major spoilers!

This is a fairy tale for grown-ups. And quite a tale it is with the suffering heroine, the monster with whom she falls in love, and a desperately unhappy life that happily turns around.

As a little girl, our heroine said something almost every angry child utters at one time or another. But in this case, the meanspirited wish came true, causing the unnamed narrator to believe she could make bad things happen just by wishing it so. After living a solitary, loveless life with a heart that has turned to ice, her brother, Ned, essentially forces her to move from their family home in New Jersey to be near him in Florida. And then the seemingly impossible happens: She is struck by lightning. While the physical effects of the lightning strike are horrific, it gives her a new beginning as she embarks on a passionate love affair with another lightning strike survivor — a man who is so burning hot that his breath can make water boil. Can love make the ice queen's heart melt? Like her, he harbors secrets that are almost too terrible to speak aloud, but it is only when the strange and horrific secrets are revealed that they lose their power to hurt.

Like all good fairy tales, there is a moral lesson that leads to a healing redemption and a bold transformation. Author Alice Hoffman, who is a genius at the tricky genre of magical realism, has created an imaginative, emotionally-searing story that is absolutely spellbinding. And the ending is perfect. (Well, it is a fairy tale!)

Bonus: This is also a fascinating scientific primer on the physical and psychological effects of lightning strikes on human beings, as well as the basics of chaos theory.

This is a difficult book to read because it is so very sad. But even though this historical novel by Emma Donoghue is raw and emotionally draining, it tells an important story about the 18th century: the plight of girls and women who were abandoned and the degrading, awful lives they were forced to live just to survive.

It is 1760, and 13-year-old Mary Saunders, a poor girl with a cold and detached mother and a cruel stepfather, makes a mistake that will forever and tragically alter the course of her life: for a bit of red ribbon she lets a course peddler kiss her—and more. She is ruined. Her mother throws her out of the house, and she must fend for herself on the mean streets of London. Mary quickly realizes there is only one thing she can do to survive. She has never known love, so working as a prostitute is just a job. But through all the horrors she experiences, Mary has a fierce will to better herself. Most of all, she wants to control her own destiny. But the horrors of her past will always haunt her every step. This is her story.

Loosely based on a true story, the novel is packed with fascinating historical details, finely-wrought characters, and a riveting plot. It is a gripping saga that reveals the underbelly of a brutal and ultimately tragic life.

Be forewarned: This book is filled with graphic descriptions and violent scenes that may be difficult for some readers.

If the front cover didn't list Stephen King as the author, I would never have guessed he wrote it. Mind you, I don't read horror novels, so I dance around the edges of King's oeuvre, and this one is definitely on that edge. No horror at all, but also not much of a story.

Recently divorced Scott Carey lives in a wealthy, gated community in fictional Castle Rock, Maine. He has some minor issues with his new neighbors' unleashed dogs; the neighbors are married lesbians who are setting this conservative town on edge. But that's the least of his worries. Scott is losing weight—rapidly—even though it doesn't show. He looks out of shape and obese, but the weight is falling off. What is happening?

This novella, which can easily be read in a couple of hours, is most of all a lesson in tolerance and the value of diversity, but it's told a bit like a hammer over the head. No subtleties, no nuances. While it's still a good story, I'm disappointed. King is one of the most talented American writers living today, and I think he could have done better.

If someone were to ask me to describe this incredibly creative book in three words, this is it: Innovative. Imaginative. Inspiring. It may take you a few pages to become accustomed to the highly original writing style, but the payoff is so worth it. This is one of those books that I will be thinking about for a long, long time to come.

The narrator of this book is Death. He is the one who releases the soul from a body once it has died, and he carries it away. It is January 1939 in Nazi Germany, and 9-year-old Liesel and her little brother are being sent to a foster home to be cared for by strangers. Her brother dies, so she is all alone when she enters the home of Hans and Rosa Hubermann on Himmel Street, which is in the shadow of Dachau. When Liesel steals her first book at her brother's graveside, she doesn't even know how to read. Stealing books becomes an obsession—a potentially dangerous one not only because it is theft and a crime, but also because this is a time when books are burned. Books are seditious. Words have power. This is the story of Liesel's life in Germany during World War II told from the perspective of a German child who is not Jewish, but whose family is harboring a Jewish man in their basement. Her life is filled with love, but also incredible danger and tragedy. And her life is filled with words—words that give and words that take.

The characters are vivid and strong, the passionate writing is superb, the novel's structure is ingenious, and the plot is profound and moving. This is a brilliant and unforgettable must-read novel.

When I was about halfway through reading "America for Beginners" by Leah Franqui, I had the (admittedly odd) thought: I just want to hug this book. In addition to being a delightful story—more enchanting than a page-turner—this book is filled with pithy wit and wisdom about life, love, and truly living.

At 60 years old and newly widowed, Pival Senjupta scandalously decides to leave her lifelong home Kolkata, India (a place in which she has only ever traveled five blocks) to take a tour alone of the United States with the hope of reuniting with her son, who may or may not be dead and may or may or may not be alive and living in Los Angeles. Soon after Rahi told his parents he was gay, his incensed and outraged father told Pival that her beloved boy had died of a heart attack. She signs up for a private tour of the U.S.A. with a New York-based tour company of Bangladeshis who pretend to be Indian. Her guide is Satya, an undocumented immigrant who has never been anywhere other than New York, along with her American female companion, Rebecca, a desperately unhappy, somewhat jaded wannabe actress. Each is in for a life-changing experience that hinges not on the sights they see, but rather on their interactions with one another.

Bonus: Pival and Satya's first experiences of America are poignant, hilarious, and illuminating.

Written with humor and grace, this moving story is a new twist on the age-old idea of a journey as a means for quest and transformation. And the physical monsters Ulysses conquered in "The Odyssey" are no less daunting than the psychological monsters this trio battles.

Most of all, this is a story that offers hope, love, and understanding written in a brilliant and beautiful way.