Heart the Lover, by Lily King: "First we make our choices. Then they make us."

Have you heard the thing about how if you're in your 30s or 40s now, your favorite song or album or band in high school or college is likely still your favorite song or album or band? Though that may not always be exactly right (except, it is for me!), and a favorite song or record is much more pedantic than, say, choosing your partner for life, that idea does get to the theme of Lily King's incredible new novel, Heart the Lover. Choices you make and friends and relationships you have when you're young -- big or small, and whether you know it then or not -- have far-reaching consequences for literally the rest of your life. At no other time in your life is that as true as it is in your early 20s. 

If you're a just-graduated young woman, you can, for instance, whip off to Paris to take a nanny job. You can choose to write a novel. Or not. You can throw a dart at the map and choose where to live. The world is there for you to do with it what you can. The freedom! (Even if that freedom is actually kind of an illusion.)

But to back up, Heart the Lover starts with three main characters, Sam, Yash, and Jordan, college students in the South in the late 1980s. Sam and Yash are roommates, and Jordan begins dating Sam, but the dynamics are weird. Narrated by Jordan, the plot proceeds from her college days to her late 40s in three distinct parts. It's a novel, the less you know about plot-wise going in, the richer your reading experience. That's especially true if you've read King's novel Writers & Lovers. (If you haven't, you absolutely should ... and maybe before reading this one.)

This novel is truly a wonder -- a 250-page story that packs the wisdom and sagacity of a book four times its size. King's understanding of how we are the way we are, why we do what we do, our foibles and quirks, and our reactions to pain and cruelty is deep. And her ability to render these so astutely on the page is astonishing. 

And then there's this quote, which has almost nothing to do with the plot, but is the most clearly rendered version of this idea I've ever read: "You know how you can remember exactly when and where you read certain books? A great novel, a truly great one, not only captures a particular fictional experience, it alters and intensifies the way you experience your own life while you're reading it. And it preserves it, like a time capsule." 

This idea is exactly why I started writing the on-again, off-again Shelf Lives series. But I had to stop and put the book down when I read those lines. They're perfect.

And this novel is nearly perfect. I loved it so much. All the feelings all the way through. READ THIS. 

*Note: The quote in the headline is not from this novel. It's Anne Frank. But it's a perfect way to describe the themes in this book.

Workhorse, by Caroline Palmer: "Single White Female" Meets "The Devil Wears Prada"

Bit of an odd reading experience here: I didn’t find my favorite part of this book until the last line of the Acknowledgments, which has nothing to do really with the novel itself. Palmer is telling us she didn’t start writing this book until her mid-40s and encourages all writers that whatever it is, it’s never too late. “This has been one of the great joys of my life,” she writes. I love that so much! 

Anyway...honestly, picking up Workhorse, by Caroline Palmer, a soapy novel about the fashion industry and high society in New York City in the early 2000s, was a stretch for me. But I took I chance because a) I like long novels (this is 550 pages!), b) I like any novel set in NYC about 20-somethings making their ways in the world, and c) I like novels about the heydays of the magazine publishing industry.

The result is a bit uneven, frankly. Flawed, but highly readable. If you like novels in which you hate all the characters, this is for you. They’re scheming, petty, conniving, solipsistic, uber-privileged, supercilious, superficial, jealous, cruel, manipulative, and basically just using each other for whatever gains they can. (Whew, it felt good to get all that out — I really did not like these people 😆.)

The plot is this: Early-20s Clodagh Harmon gets herself a job as an assistant to an editor at a prominent and beloved fashion magazine. She is from a middle class background in Philadelphia and is immediately awed by the glamor and glitz all around her -- including her fellow assistant Davis Lawrence, whom everyone loves and who is the daughter of a famous Broadway star and fashion icon. Clo works hard to insinuate herself into Davis's good graces and the life to which she increasing believes she's entitled. But will Clo maintain even a shred of dignity in her ambitious drive upward? How is it fair that she has to work so hard -- a Workhorse -- whereas so many others like Davis -- Showhorses -- have it so easy? And as her quest to befriend Davis becomes more sinister, bordering on obsession, are there any limits to what she'll do to earn Davis's friendship?

It makes for delicious drama, indeed. But some of the major plot hinges stretch credulity and the characters themselves are a bit inconsistent in how they act individually and towards each other. Sure, humans are messy, but when you start saying “It just doesn’t feel like that’s something (this character) would do” pretty often, it’s a problem. 

Still, if you’re up for a “Single White Female” meets “The Devil Wears Prada,” and are good to spend A LONG TIME (again, this is over 550 pages!) with these people, give this a shot! 

Paper Girl, by Beth Macy: Astute Insight into Our Fractured World

Let me just cut to the chase: Beth Macy's part-memoir, part-sociological study, Paper Girl, is easily one of the best things I've read this year. Macy is a magnificent storyteller and her writing here is astute, relatable, and clear. As difficult as this book often is to read, I loved every word of it. 

Of course, there is no shortage of books, articles, tweets, Facebook posts from your uncle, memes, late-night heart-to-hearts at the bar, and signs on the side of the road purporting to explain our current political moment and how we got here. This book provides the clearest explanation I've read yet. It's Hillbilly Elegy without the condescension, fallacy, and disingenuousness.

Macy is a former journalist who quit the media to write award-winning investigative books like Dopesick, Factory Man, and several others. She grew up in the small town of Urbana, Ohio, poor and with little opportunity. However, she received a Pell Grant to go to college, worked hard, and made herself a success. This book is about her childhood in Urbana. But the goal of the book is to show Urbana as a microcosm of small-town-America, and how small-town-America is different now than then, how young people in Urbana now don't have the same opportunities for upward mobility (class migration) she had, why that's the case, and how that's given rise to the MAGA cult. 

It's so engrossing, not the least because I also grew up in a small town in Ohio just 30 miles from Urbana. Like Macy, I also delivered newspapers as a kid and aspired to be a journalist. For Macy, her career as a writer informs her central argument here: She draws a clear and logically argued line from the death of local newspapers to the rise in national extremism. No longer do people know about or identify with their neighbors -- especially those who are different than them. Now, they more identify with national trends they're fed on their echo chamber news station or on their social media feeds algorithmically curated to keep them outraged. The disappearance of the small-town newspaper, she argues, is the main reason why one side of the political spectrum suddenly fell under the thrall of an orange conspiracy-theory spewing felonious carnival barker. 

But the death of local news is only part of the problem. The lack of support and funding for public schools,  the rising cost of college, the uptick in "homeschooling" in rural areas (which often isn't really school at all), and new laws in mainly red states that allow parents to pull kids out of public school for "religious education" have all combined to create a culture that de-emphasizes the value of actual education. From there, it's easy to see why people ignorant of the world around them are finding solace in the craziest of crazy ideas. 

These two are just the tip of the iceberg -- job opportunities being shipped overseas, online culture that rewards the loudest and most outrageous behavior, widespread drug addiction, and politicians with little integrity and even less care for the people they supposedly govern are all contributing factors, Macy writes. 

Macy makes these points by telling the stories of real people she meets and spends time with during a year-and-a-half she spends back in Urbana to write this book. There's a trans teenager named Silas studying to be a welder, but running into one problem after another. There's Macy's niece Liza, who was sexually assaulted by her stepfather. There's Macy's ex-boyfriend Bill, the most liberal person she knew in the 1980s, who has turned angry conspiracy theorist. And there's the MAGA Urbana mayor who leads the charge to turn down state-granted funds for a youth center because the guy running the youth center is gay. It's just all so impossibly sad. 

The result, though, of Macy's research is an immensely readable, fascinating book I could not put down. Frankly, there's not really anything new here -- or at least nothing very surprising. But Macy's journalistic gift for presentation -- for explaining these complex issues in terms that are easy to understand -- makes this book feel fresh and the arguments original. You hear this frequently, but I truly mean this: This is a book every American should read.

The Definitive Ranking of Dan Brown's Six Robert Langdon Novels

Did you know we're celebrating a milestone this year? It's true! 2025 is Robert Langdon's 25th literary birthday. The Harvard symbologist known for his Mickey Mouse watch and penchant for faux profundity, dumb jokes, and mansplaining first appeared in 2000's Angels & Demons, and has been solving mysteries and uncovering the secrets of the universe ever since. On the occasion of Langdon's 25th anniversary of being in the world, as well as the publication of the sixth Langdon novel, The Secret of Secrets, I thought it'd be fun to make the definitive ranking of all six of the novels.

6. Inferno (2013) -- Had AI existed in 2013 as prominently as it does today, I would've sworn this piece of crap was written by ChatGPT. It's formulaic and cliche -- both in terms of the plot (Langdon wakes up with amnesia -- massive eyeroll) and its structure (every chapter seemingly starts the same way, describing a tourist attraction in Florence). So our guy Langdon and a smoke-show doctor named Sienna have to figure out what the hell happened last night (Dude, where's my Dante?!), with only a few lines of The Inferno to guide them. If you want to read more about why I severely disliked this book, check out my post "Five Thoughts About Dan Brown's Inferno." 

5. The Lost Symbol (2009) -- Brown's first novel after The Da Vinci Code was a total stinker. I see what he's doing here -- trying to bring the formula that worked so well in that book to a more Americanized plot (the Freemasons). But it was just so lame. Here is what I wrote in 2009 upon finishing the book. Looking back, honestly, I was probably harsher on this book than it deserved -- it's really difficult to follow up a massive success. But still, it's staying here at second-worst. 

4. Origin (2017) -- Okay, we're finally getting slightly better. Here, Langdon's pal -- a cross between Steve Jobs and Elon Musk with a little Richard Branson -- has discovered the "origin" of not just all religions, but all humankind. Unfortunately, he's killed before he can present his findings. So Langdon and a comely museum director (sure are a lot of beautiful nerds in the Langdon-verse) have to figure out the dude's iPhone password, or all will be lost! There's more to it than that, of course. I actually had fun with this one -- here's the full review.

3. Angels & Demons (2000) -- This is the book everyone went back to read right after reading The Da Vinci Code (me included). Here, we meet Langdon for the first time in this novel of the Vatican and antimatter and a murdered Pope. Really entertaining, but perhaps the most over-the-top of any of the six Langdon novels. 

2.  The Secret of Secrets (2025) -- Yay! We're back, baby! The first Langdon novel in eight years is a little different, and that's unquestionably a good thing. This is the longest Langdon novel at nearly 700 pages, but it's set over the course of a single day. It's highly entertaining, and moves along at Brown's signature breakneck speed. Langdon is almost a secondary character here. Katherine Solomon, who we first met in The Lost Symbol, is really the protagonist. They were friends before, but now they're knockin' boots. Noetic science, life after death, and nonlocal consciousness are the cornerstones of this return to form for Brown. 

1. The Da Vinci Code (2003) -- The first Langdon book almost everyone read remains my favorite. It's hard to overstate what a phenomenon this book was that summer of 2003 -- prime time specials, magazine covers, etc. There was the inevitable pushback, too, as Brown got more and more defensive about the plot he stole (remember, he was sued for plagiarism by the authors of Holy Blood, Holy Grail), and the fact that it was all fully true. Sure, buddy. Even with all the peripherals, it made for a MASSIVELY entertaining novel, though -- and a perfect role for Tom Hanks. Still the best, in my book. 

(Side note: I've only read one of Dan Brown's two non-Langdon novels -- 1998's Digital Fortress -- and it's my no-hesitation answer to the question: "What's the worst book you've ever read?" But that's a story for another day...)