Let's Bust a Recap : Anxious People

Fredrik Backman exploded onto the scene in 2012 with the publication of his debut novel A Man Called Ove. If you haven't at least heard of it, you're probably not a big reader.  I finally got around to reading it myself ten years later in 2022 and joined the legion of fans Backman has garnered the world over. Despite the fact that I've had two of his other books—Britt-Marie Was Here and My Grandmother Asked Me To Tell You She's Sorry—sitting on my shelf for five years now, I found myself purchasing a copy of Anxious People a few weeks ago and diving right into it when my book club chose it for our April selection. And may I just say: Backman has done it again.

On opening this book, the first thing I read, of course, was Backman's dedication:

This book is dedicated to the voices in my head, the most remarkable of my friends.

And to my wife, who lives with us.  

Are you kidding me? I'm already sold. 

Chapter one opens with a bank robbery and a hostage drama. In his second paragraph, Backman writes, "This story is about a lot of things, but mostly about idiots. So it needs saying from the outset that it's always very easy to declare that other people are idiots, but only if you forget how idiotically difficult being human is. Especially if you have other people you're trying to be a reasonably good human being for." So begins an investigation into this bank robbery turned hostage drama. Father and son Jim and Jack are the two police officers on the case, interviewing the hostages who were all released from the apartment viewing they attended the day before New Years Eve after being held there by an armed bank robber who had just tried to rob a cashless bank across the street. 

A cashless bank.

Backman has this uncanny ability to capture the strange messiness of being human in such a profound and profoundly funny way. His books make you laugh out loud, they make your heart ache, they make you nod your head in agreement thinking "yes, that really is what it's like!" Anxious People in particular is one giant reminder to remember that the people around you are going through their own stuff. Stuff you may never know about. But stuff that compels them to make the choices you've deemed idiotic. And they are idiotic. But the choices we make may seem just as idiotic to the next guy who doesn't know our stuff. 

So be kind.

It's just brilliant. Anxious People came out in 2019 and the English translation by Neil Smith in 2020. While A Man Called Ove is still easily my favorite of the two, I absolutely loved Anxious People. Given the nature of the police investigation and the host of colorful characters, Anxious People feels very scattered in a somewhat disjointed way, and Backman did a great job of keeping me guessing the entire novel. There isn't really a main character to anchor the story so you constantly feel like you're being pulled in different directions from beginning to end. But it just works. 

If you haven't gotten around to reading Fredrik Backman yet, add my voice to the chorus of people recommending you move his books to the top of your TBR. He's becoming a favorite and it will not be another four years before I pick up another one of his books. 

But which one next? Britt-Marie, or My Grandmother Sends Her Regards and Apologises?

Let's Bust a Recap : When God Writes Your Life Story

I distinctly remember receiving When God Writes Your Life Story along with two other books by the Ludys as a gift in high school. Around that time, I read one of the other books, When Dreams Come True. I liked that one. It was the couple's love story told from both their perspectives. Very sweet. I think I started this one shortly after finishing that one, but didn't get very far into it. Probably not even past the first chapter. (I never picked up the other one, When God Writes Your Love Story, so I have no comments about it.)

Years later in 2015—and now that I'm thinking about it, that would have been a solid ten years after receiving these books as gifts—when I decided to make my very first book list, When God Writes Your Life Story got a spot. And I even started reading it again. But once again, I didn't make it past the first chapter before setting it aside. 

So obviously, it got a spot on my 2026 book list along with three other books from that very first list and I wasted no time in dusting it off to read in March. And it turned out to be a 50/50 book. I 50% couldn't roll my eyes any harder, and 50% thought it could actually be a very helpful resource. So let's get into it. 

Basically the premise of this book is when we're kids, we dream big, like, superhero big dreams for our life. But as we get older, we settle for mediocrity. So if you want to make your life count and live a thrilling existence, read our book to make it happen. 

Do you see me rolling my eyes?

Eric and Leslie Ludy published When God Writes Your Life Story back in 2004. It's the sixth in a long line of books they've published together. I am genuinely happy to report that the Ludys are still married and active in ministry, and seem to be a pretty unproblematic couple. A lot of spiritual leaders from the Y2K "purity culture" era have fallen from grace hard, and for me, that taints their work—however founded in truth it may be. But the Ludys seem to be the real deal, and I'm sincerely glad about that.

But their writing. Boy oh boy. When I say the first two-thirds of this book is some of the cheesiest, most trite, "Christian-ese" nonsense I've ever read: it legitimately made me want to hurl. If you've been around or know me in real life, you know I grew up in a pastor's household. Maybe you think that means I grew up with this kind of sunshine-y, Christian-speak, climb God's Everest, Jesus loves me, kind of vocabulary. But if you actually know my dad, you know he won't stand for what he calls "Sunday school answers." We never got let off the hook with a "because the Bible says so" answer around the family dinner table. My dad is quick to cut through the BS and tell the truth plain, especially when it's hard. As a result, I have grown into an adult who can't stand this "churchy" way of talking. It makes my skin crawl. And so for the first 140ish pages of When God Writes Your Life Story, I was wincing. A lot. The Ludys don't out-and-out lie or say anything blasphemous, but they also don't say things that are particularly helpful, practical, or that give a full picture of life. This book is geared to a younger demographic—nothing wrong with that—but they go so far as to say that older people have criticized them and their message as being naive and overly optimistic and that those naysayers are part of the mass of people who have settled for mediocrity in their lives. 

As one of those older people reading their book, let me add my two cents. While I would agree that there can literally be nothing in life more ultimately rewarding than living for God wholeheartedly, I think the Ludys are setting young people up for major disillusionment by talking about the Christian life as if it is a thrilling adventure every. single. day. And they do talk about it like that. What will happen to the teenager who joyfully embraces this ideology when she grows up and realizes that the bills have to be paid every month, the dishes have to be washed every day, the laundry never ends, and she actually has to buy the groceries and cook the meals day in and day out? Her kids will throw tantrums and things will break and she will get sick when it's the most inconvenient. Learning to live a quiet, faithful life through all that doesn't always feel exciting. Some (most?) days it feels exhausting. Is she still doing it right when she doesn't feel like she's living on the mountaintops? I think if she swallowed the Ludys message, hook, line, and sinker when she was a bright-eyed and bushy-tailed twenty-two year old, fresh out of Bible college, she might become a sad statistic of another kid raised in church who walked away from it all as an adult. 

But Hannah, you said this was a 50/50 book? What is helpful in all that?

When God Writes Your Life Story is sectioned into three parts: Part One—Dreaming the Impossible; Part Two—Living the Impossible; and Part Three—Frontier Field Guide. If you're anything like me and have a low tolerance for BS, those first two parts will be painful. But if you want to skip all that and go straight to the Field Guide, that's where I think this book actually has something helpful to offer. While the first two parts read like, "The Christian life is such an adventure, keep reading to learn how to climb the Christian Everest!" (I wish I was kidding), this third part gets into practical, real-world application of how to confront and confess sin and live a holy life. A how-to for setting achievable goals, creating healthy habits, and getting involved in community. When God Writes Your Life Story offered some of the most balanced, practical advice I've ever read about finding and joining a church. That part especially resonated with me as someone who has had a very difficult time finding a church as an adult now that my dad (you remember him, the straight-shooter?) is no longer pastoring a local church. 

So there's good stuff in there. You just have to wade through a lot of cheese to get to it. My advice? If you find yourself with this book in your hands, skip straight to the "Frontier Field Guide" and go from there. If you want to get a feel for what you're missing in parts one and two, just read the little "In a Nutshell" page at the end of each chapter. I promise, the chapters themselves aren't any deeper than what you get there. While I did feel like a lot of my time reading this book was wasted, I can honestly say that I could see myself referring back to that third section in the future. 

On to the next.

Let's Bust a Recap : Hannah Coulter

Wendell Berry is one of the most highly lauded living authors today. Currently 91 years old, his resumé is a thing to behold. I've been wanting to read his work for some time now, but let me tell you: his books are hard to find secondhand. Even on my go-to resale sites, they land on the pricier side. And now that I've finally read him, I understand why. You don't let go of Wendell Berry easily. My sister-in-law was kind enough to get my collection started when she gifted me Hannah Coulter for my birthday in 2024. It immediately earned a place on my 2025 book list, but I didn't quite get to it last year.

Since 2026 has been the year of trying to read all the books I put on my book lists but never actually read, Hannah Coulter automatically got another spot. And when my friend Karis started reading it at the beginning of March, I got the FOMO real bad and resolved to read it as soon as I finished Project Hail Mary (which didn't take long because I couldn't put that book down, though I didn't manage to start Hannah until after Karis finished). Start it I did though and ended up reading it over the course of a week. This quiet, deeply felt novel is written in the form of twice-widowed Hannah Coulter looking back over her life and relating her recollections to Andy Catlett. As Hannah sorts through her memories and recalls her childhood, her first love and loss, building a life with her second husband, and raising children: the reader is transported to a simpler way of living, but not one without its own unique complexities, struggles, and heartaches. It was a pleasure to read, and it felt deeply personal. Hannah's musings on life and the specific choices she made were so real and easy to relate to. Her story is so profoundly human, the characters littering the pages almost tangible. Nothing about Berry's writing felt contrived or overdone. Truly such a beautiful book. 

Wendell Berry is closely identified with rural Kentucky and his writing is known for being grounded in a strong sense of place. Hannah Coulter, published in 2004, is the seventh of his Port William novels which began with Nathan Coulter, published in 1960. There are eight total, and Berry wrote them in such a way that they can be read in any order. Now that I've read Hannah Coulter, I'm most interested in picking up Andy Catlett next since Andy is the one she's sharing her memories with in this book, but I hope to add all eight of the Port William novels to my library and read them as they come. 

To sum up: this reader's opinion is that the Wendell Berry hype is fully earned. After reading a little more about Berry himself, his views and activism, I'm not sure how his non-fiction would land with me, but I absolutely loved my first experience with his fictional Port William and its membership, and I'm looking forward to my next visit there. 

Let's Bust a Recap : Project Hail Mary

Oh yes. I unapologetically jumped on the bandwagon of people reading this 2021 bestseller in anticipation of the new film adaptation starring Ryan Gosling. I'm not ashamed to admit it. Sci-fi is not my go-to genre and though I was aware of the universal popularity of Andy Weir's books The Martian and Project Hail Mary, I didn't have much interest in reading them, despite the glowing reviews from personal friends and family. 

But when the news dropped last summer that the long-awaited adaptation would be making its way to screens in March this year, I began that internal bookworm debate of to read or not to read. I was immediately interested in seeing the film. We're fans of the Gosling around here and what better date night than an adventure through the galaxies? Ultimately, I decided—and so did my husband—that we would give the book a go, and since I got to select the book for my book club to read in March, I dragged them into it with me, too.

I procured a copy (a saga in and of itself involving long library wait times, hunting unsuccessfully for a secondhand copy, buying the book from a major retailer, then immediately having my hold come through from the library, my husband taking the library book with him on a trip to Winston-Salem where he got snowed in for a week and read it in like a day and telling me we should definitely keep the copy we bought, but then him finding it in the first secondhand bookstore he visited for a fraction of the price we paid the major retailer, so naturally he bought it and I returned the new book) and, along with my brother Reagan, began reading. (Another fun story: Reagan and I ended up finishing the book within minutes of each other. 1:30 AM Eastern Standard for me; 10:30 PM Pacific Standard for him.)

Okay, so here's where we hit a snag in this review. 

What review, Hannah? You've been bombarding us with all your usual nonsense and gotten nowhere!

Right, but see: I went into this book almost completely blind. I didn't know much of anything about it beyond it involving a guy going to space. And it was one of the best reading experiences ever. I am firmly in the camp of readers who would advise you to go into this book without reading a single review, or watching the movie trailer, or even reading the back of the book. This is one of those books you walk away from wishing you could read it for the first time again. 

But where does that leave me, your humble internet book reviewer? I will give you one sentence about the premise, then a few more details about the success of the book, my general thoughts about the adaptation, and we'll leave it at that. Deal? 

A man wakes up from a medically-induced coma, but he can't remember why he was in one, where he is, or even what his own name is. 

*cue the drama*

You guys, it's so good. Definitely read it. In 2021 it debuted on pretty much every big bestseller list for the physical book and the audiobook narrated by Ray Porter, and it jumped back up to the top of all the bestseller lists again last summer when the teaser for the adaptation dropped. Now, I'll be the first person to tell you that Andy Weir's writing isn't anything to phone home about, but the man can spin a yarn, let me tell you. And while this book was chock-full of the science and math, he never took it to the point where my eyes glazed over, which is saying something because I am not a science and math girl. This is a keep-you-on-the-edge-of-your-seat novel, and I was reading it every chance I got. 

As for the movie: we loved it. A very good adaptation, as adaptations go. Naturally, there were some omissions we were disappointed about, and, honestly, the opening wasn't great; but overall it was a very good time at the movies. We saw it in IMAX which was awesome and I'd highly recommend it if you have the chance to see it that way. I do honestly feel like I would not have enjoyed it as much as I did if I hadn't read the book first. This was an adaptation for the book-lovers if ever I've seen one, and while it still would have been a fun date night if we hadn't read the book first, I don't think I'd feel compelled to buy the movie on DVD or watch it again if I hadn't loved the book so thoroughly and had all the information the movie couldn't possibly have included. 

Project Hail Mary has a fan in me. I don't know that I'll ever pick up Andy Weir's other books, but I'm so glad I didn't miss out on this one. 

Amaze. Amaze. Amaze.

Let's Bust a Recap : Fervent

I was reading this book a solid year ago (from March to May), but we're finally getting this recap done because I finally re-watched War Room which I wanted to do before posting this. 

Fervent by Priscilla Shirer came out in the summer of 2015 just a month or two before War Room which is a faith-based film that Shirer had the starring role in. I'm pretty sure I went and saw War Room in the theater with my BFF Christina and we ended up buddy reading Fervent last year together too. 

I was aware at the time War Room came out that Fervent had recently been published as a sort of unofficial companion book to the movie, but I didn't have a copy and didn't make a point to get a copy either. However, in 2024 two of my other BFFs, Amy and Lyndsey (Christina was supposed to come too but got sick), drove up to meet me in Alpharetta, Georgia for a Living Proof Live event. As girlfriends do, we went shopping together at a massive Goodwill and I came across a copy of Fervent for a measly $2. I think Amy ended up buying a copy as well. Christina and I talked about buddy reading it that fall, but life being what it is, we ended up pushing it to after the new year. I'm glad we got to it because I needed this book. Honestly, I need all the books on prayer I can get. I'm putting Fervent and A Praying Life by Paul Miller into the regular rotation of my reading life. 

Shirer's emphasis in Fervent is making a prayer battle plan so that we are equipped to fight in the ongoing spiritual warfare that is happening all around us—whether we choose to acknowledge it or not. Something Shirer confronted right out of the gate is putting our enemy in his proper place. She says:

Whenever the conversation of demonic activity comes up in a book like this, most people scatter to one of two extremes. Either they overestimate Satan's influence and power, living with an inflated, erroneous perspective of his abilities. Or they underestimate him. They don't assign him any credit at all for the difficulties he's stirring up beneath the surface of their lives. One extreme leaves you saddled with undue fear and anxiety; the other just makes you stupid...unaware and completely open to every single attack. 

Full transparency: I tend to fall in the second category. As Shirer goes on to point out, God already defeated Satan once and for all and He didn't break a sweat to do it. The devil didn't and doesn't stand a chance against the Almighty God of the universe. But as Peter, inspired by the Holy Spirit, clearly warns us, the devil would still love to devour me if I let my guard down. The Scripture is clear about spiritual warfare: it's real and we have to take up arms.

So in Fervent, Shirer targets ten areas in our lives the devil is prone to attack and lays out strategies for the reader to pray about each one. And she's practical. She designed the book with prayer cards for the reader to tear out and fill in with their own prayers to post on the walls of their closets. She includes many Scripture references at the end of each chapter which was my favorite part. My copy is already well-highlighted and will continue to be for years to come. I've always appreciated Priscilla's no-holds-barred approach. She's not afraid to tell you the truth and to tell it to you plain. This book is a kick in the pants, get off your butt and on your knees, call to action, and we could all use a little more of that in our lives. 

As for the movie War Room, I'll also tell it to you straight: a movie star Priscilla Shirer is not. Bless her. The star of that film is little Miss Alena Pitts who is Shirer's second cousin in real life and who plays her daughter in the film. As a lot of faith-based films tend to be, the acting comes across a little cheesy, but the content is so powerful, I still found myself with tears running down my face as I sat on my couch watching it last week. 

I highly, highly recommend Fervent and if you can watch War Room afterwards, so much the better. 

Let's Bust a Recap : Living Life Backward

"Life is gift, not gain."

If I could sum up my takeaway from Living Life Backward in one sentence, that would be it. And in my mind, I kind of chant it like the sharks in Finding Nemo talking about fish. 

Living Life Backward is David Gibson's 2017 treatise on the book of Ecclesiastes. Cody read this a few years back, and when I asked him to recommend a couple of books for my book list last year, this was the first one he pulled off the shelf. I did actually start it in November, but it got put on hold while I poured all my reading energy into finishing David Copperfield before the end of the year. And then it got put on hold again while I focused on our first book club book The Reason for God. (I usually don't like to have more than one non-fiction book going at once.) But I finally picked it back up and finished it the second week of February. 

In Living Life Backward, Gibson systematically works through the entire book of Ecclesiastes. It's easy to view Ecclesiastes through a pretty depressing lens. Some translations open with "Everything is meaningless." But Gibson's argument is that the wisdom we can derive from the book of Ecclesiastes actually frees us up to live lives that are ultimately more happy and fulfilling. The only thing we can be absolutely certain of in this life is that death comes for us all. Though we don't know when or how, we know that at some point, every one of us will die. Everything else in this life, from our perspective, is uncertain. One of the things Gibson says in his book really struck me: that we like to live as if the one thing that's certain—death—will never come, while all the things that are actually uncertain are certain for us. We spend our lives trying to figure out unknowable things, and pretend like we aren't going to die. Obviously, this sets us up for a very unsatisfying life because, like we all know deep down, we do all die. Gibson and the writer of Ecclesiastes point out that living life in light of the end—living life backward, if you will—informs our day-to-day living. 

So "life is gift, not gain"...what is that? If we live our lives constantly striving to gain more, more, more; then ultimately we will come to the end feeling like everything was meaningless. I mean, he who dies with the most toys...still dies. What were we working so hard for? Everything that we acquire can't go with us when we die and most of us will be forgotten after we're gone. But if we view life as a gift from God, we can enjoy what He's given us and not only that, we're supposed to enjoy what He gives us. By enjoying this life, we're actually fulfilling God's purpose. When I'm not afraid to die, when I live my life with open hands and a peaceful heart, people around me have to wonder, what does she know that I don't? 

I'm probably making this sound super-trite and overly clichéd, but Gibson's book was a breath of fresh air. It was a timely reminder. And it did really help me understand Ecclesiastes better. There are things in that book that can seem contradictory, but Gibson does an excellent job of breaking it all down. Don't let my cheesy review put you off. Living Life Backward is a book I highly recommend and one that I would definitely read again.

Let's Bust a Recap : The Borrowed Life of Frederick Fife

The second book chosen for our book club to read this year was this 2024 debut by Australian author Anna Johnston: The Borrowed Life of Frederick Fife. 

And what a gem! I loved this hilarious, heartfelt novel from the first word to the last. Johnston did not miss a single step in her debut, and I've already put her upcoming release on my amazon wishlist and requested that my library buy a copy even though it's not coming out till August. 

In the first chapter, we learn that 82 year old Fred has just been evicted from his home and is taking a walk along the river to find a little snatch of peace while he tries to figure out what he's going to do. In an insane turn of events that involves his uncanny doppelgänger floating away down the river, Fred finds himself being loaded into a van and taken to a nursing home where he's fed the best meal he's had in months and tucked away into a warm bed. Despite his earnest attempts to correct the mistake, Fred can't seem to make anyone believe that he isn't Bernard Greer and decides maybe it won't be so bad to "borrow" this stranger's life since he won't be needing it any more. 

While you might think you'd have to suspend disbelief to such a degree that this story couldn't possibly be enjoyable, I think Johnston actually pulls it off. She does such a wonderful job of spinning a yarn that seems like it could—believe it or not—be plausible despite how absurd it sounds on the surface. Frederick Fife is a kinder, sunnier Ove who, instead of being adopted by the people around him against his will, adopts all the people around him himself to create his new found family. I loved it so much. 

Another surprising element of The Borrowed Life of Frederick Fife that endeared me even more to this sweet novel was that I saw myself in Fred. I mentioned in one of my recent reviews that it's hard to find a novel where the protagonist is childless and content. In The Borrowed Life, Fred and his late wife very much wanted to have children but were unable to grow their family. While this was one of the harder elements of this narrative to read about (and let me just give a trigger warning for miscarriage), I felt such a kinship with this character who kept a sunny outlook and had such a beautiful and fulfilling marriage with his partner. I didn't expect the story I'd see myself in to be that of a lonely male octogenarian, but I'm so glad I found it.

Finally, I have to continue my applause for Johnston's brilliant debut by saying that I didn't see the twists coming. I certainly haven't read every book on the planet, but The Borrowed Life of Frederick Fife felt wholly original and fresh to me, and I stayed up way past my bedtime finishing this one. 

Two enthusiastic thumbs up from this reader, and I'm so looking forward to Anna Johnston's sophomore novel—coming in August!

Let's Bust a Recap : Before We Were Yours

Okay, this book was extremely popular when it was published in 2017, and so many people recommended it to me. I read it last August, and maybe I'm the outlier here, but I did not like it.

Buckle up for a scathing review and possibly some spoilers, and if you're one of the ones who loved it and recommended it to me: sorry, not sorry. 

Lisa Wingate's 2017 New York Times bestseller Before We Were Yours is structured as a dual timeline, going back and forth between 1939 Memphis, Tennessee and present day Aiken, South Carolina. In 1939, we're following the story of Rill Foss who is desperately trying to keep her family together after she and her four younger siblings are kidnapped and taken to an orphanage. In the present day, we're following the story of Avery Stafford, a wealthy young lawyer from a prestigious old money Southern family with the perfect handsome fiancé to boot. A chance encounter with a confused elderly lady at a nursing home who mistakes Avery for someone else has her questioning her entire family history and sets her on "a path that will ultimately lead either to devastation or to redemption." And that's straight from the back-of-the-book blurb. Not dramatic at all.

This "historical fiction" novel (and yes, those quotes are dripping with sarcasm) is meant to highlight one of the most notorious scandals in our nation's recent history: that of Georgia Tann and the Tennessee Children's Home Society, a front for her black market adoptions which was operational from the 1920s to 1950. Tann trafficked literally thousands of children through the Home Society, and when I say the uterine cancer that took her life mere weeks before charges were brought against her was too good a death for her: I mean it. People have praised this book for bringing to light this "little known" part of history, but this scandal has been covered pretty extensively in books, podcasts, documentaries, TV, and even a movie. I'm not so sure we needed Lisa Wingate's novel. Her writing isn't bad, but she doesn't shy away from the horrific things that went down in Georgia Tann's organization including child abuse, child rape, and even child murder, and I felt sick the entire time I was reading this book. I kept waiting for a brilliant resolution to make all the misery worth it, but we never get one. 

And don't get me started on Avery's storyline. It felt like Wingate just wanted to write a Hallmark romance but have people take her seriously so she tangled it up with the most horrific scandal in our nation's history so she could get that "historical fiction" tag. While I did wonder where Rill would end up and that kept me turning the pages, there was nothing remotely mysterious about how Avery's story would turn out. You saw every beat of her dumping-her-perfect-family-approved-fiancé-for-the-laid-back-single-dad coming from a mile away. (Sorry for all the hypens.) 

Before We Were Yours has been compared to Orphan Train by readers and marketers alike, and, before I even knew that, I was definitely getting those vibes while I was reading. But compared with Christina Baker Kline's excellent novel, Wingate's Before We Were Yours felt manipulative and her manufactured happy ending fell incredibly flat for me. It wasn't the worst book I've ever read, but all things considered, it didn't add up to a good experience for me, and I wouldn't recommend this one. 

What book didn't live up to the hype for you?

Let's Bust a Recap : The Reason for God

Here we are again, recapping my most recently finished book. Generally speaking, non-fiction doesn't stay with me as long as good fiction does so when I read a book like The Reason for God, I want to recap it right away before I forget everything I thought about it. There are always exceptions to this rule, of course, but those exceptions definitely don't apply to The Reason for God as it's a library book that I wasn't able to mark up and will be returning soon so I won't even have a physical copy to refer to when writing a blog post. This was the first book selected by my book club for 2026—yes, we're trying to resurrect our poor book club—which is why I went off-list so early in the year to check out a library book instead of reading one of the 700+ unread books that live in my house. 

Tim Keller was a very popular pastor and Christian apologist who founded Redeemer Presbyterian Church in New York City back in 1989 which has now grown to a congregation of over 5,000. In his 2008 book The Reason for God, he urges skeptics to wrestle with their doubts about Christianity and encourages believers and non-believers alike to "rise to the level of disagreement rather than simply denouncing one another." In the first half of his book, he attempts to dismantle seven common objections to Christianity. Then he writes an "Intermission" in which he sets the stage for the second half of his book, the second half being his reasons for believing Christianity. He ends with a heartfelt appeal to his readers to examine their own motives for belief or disbelief and offers them practical advice on how to begin a journey of faith for themselves. 

Personally, I thought the first half of the book was pretty weak with chapters three (dismantling the argument that Christianity is a straitjacket) and seven (dismantling the argument that you can't take the Bible literally) being the exceptions. He makes some good points overall, but a lot of his arguments come across like the old playground taunt I know you are but what am I? If I was a skeptic, I have a hard time believing his defense would be particularly moving for me or even really give me much to think about. (But to be fair, I'm not a skeptic so I may be way off the mark.) The second half of the book in which he is giving reasons for Christianity is much stronger, although on the whole his arguments are very repetitive. He quotes other theologians a lot and to good effect...but in a way that makes me want to pick up their books instead of reading his. (Particularly the philosopher Alvin Plantinga whom I had never heard of and am making this my note to self to get my hands on one of his books.) C.S. Lewis has obviously been a huge influence in Keller's life—can't fault him for that; I'm right there with him—but if I was recommending a book to a skeptic of Christianity, I'd just go ahead and give them Lewis rather than Keller. I did really like how Keller referenced popular books, movies, and authors in making some of his points which, I think, makes The Reason for God more accessible to a 21st century audience. 

If you're reading this, I don't want you to think I'm being super critical of Keller's book. This is the first book by Keller I've ever read and after reading it, I'd be open to reading other books by him. This year, I'm reading through a daily devotional of selections from Dr. Martin Lloyd-Jones' writings, and as I was nearing the end of Keller's book, I came to a selection in my devotional on Faith and Reason that helped me pinpoint why exactly Keller's book wasn't resonating with me. Lloyd-Jones states that faith is not a matter of reason. He goes on to explain that "our reason brings us to the point where we realize that reason is not enough, and at that point we have nothing to do but submit ourselves to...faith." While Keller certainly touches on this in The Reason for God, it's not a point that gets hammered home and it's a crucial point to make in writing a book like this one. 

Overall, maybe The Reason for God could be a really helpful book for someone who is honestly looking to engage with the claims made by Christianity but having a hard time swallowing them for one reason or another. It may be helpful for Christians to be able to hold their own positions with greater clarity and greater humility. But it also may not be. I appreciated how respectful Keller was in his writing to both camps and how he encourages thoughtful discussion. I'm glad I read it, and I'm interested to see what type of discussion it will spark in our book club. 

Let's Bust a Recap : The Devil in the White City

Hello there! I think we can all agree that there is no longer any rhyme or reason to this blog. 

Do I have eight or nine other recaps sitting in drafts? Yes.

Are some of those recaps for books I read last year? Also yes.

Am I recapping the book I most recently finished reading? Another resounding yes.

Obviously, there is no order here, no posting schedule, and certainly no goals—stated or unspoken—of getting caught up in any particular timeframe. It just is what it is and that's all it'll ever be. So if you've stuck around, thank you for your loyalty and I hope you enjoy what I have to say whenever I randomly pop in to say it. 

The Devil in the White City is the tenth book I've completed from my original 2025 book list which, may I remind you, consisted of only twenty titles. I have a flickering hope of finishing three or four more from that list by the end of the year. We'll see what happens. 

But to get to the actual recap: The Devil in the White City is Erik Larson's 2003 historical non-fiction book which interweaves the stories of Daniel Burnham, the chief architect of the 1893 World's Columbian Exposition (aka the World's Fair), and H. H. Holmes, a cunning serial killer who lured his victims to his "Murder Castle" in Chicago, many while the World's Fair was going on from May to October of 1893. 

Larson has been lauded for the novelistic style he brings to writing his factual subject matter, and The Devil in the White City is easily his most famous book. So many people have recommended it to me, and I've been meaning to read it for ages. I bought a copy back in 2018 and, as you can see in the photograph, I've even been collecting Larson's other books since then. I knew I wanted to read The Devil in the White City first, and I actually put it on my book list a couple years ago, but just didn't get to it. I was determined to finally read it this year, and my sister-in-law agreed to buddy read it with me which is sometimes just the kick in the pants I need to get started. 

So what did I think? Larson's writing is very good and he definitely does have a talent for bringing what could be dry material to life. His coverage of what it took for Chicago and Burnham specifically to bring the World's Fair to fruition was actually fascinating. What Burnham managed to accomplish in just two years' time despite the physical (devastating windstorms, fires, Chicago's challenging soil) and financial (the Panic of 1893!) hardships he faced is nothing short of miraculous. Larson's handling of Dr. H. H. Holmes and his elaborate "Murder Castle" was deeply unsettling and extremely compelling. I particularly enjoyed the saga of George Ferris and his architecturally "impossible" Wheel. I love when a book I'm reading connects and contextualizes things outside of itself for me that I wasn't expecting and in The Devil in the White City, I felt like my own personal little Easter eggs were popping up throughout the book. Like how Olmstead, the landscape architect of the World's Fair was simultaneously working on the Biltmore, or how Walt Disney's father Elias was enamored with the World Fair and visited several times. Larson also details how Holmes managed to dispose of several of his victims by having their skeletons articulated and selling them which wasn't suspicious because of how widely accepted grave robbing was at the time. Medical schools in particular were so desperate for cadavers that they didn't ask questions about where bodies came from and would even send envoys with armed guards to rob graves. Unapologetically! This gave me a deeper appreciation for Robert Louis Stevenson's short story "The Body Snatcher" which I read last year. 

But for all that, I felt like I was reading two separate books. I don't think Larson successfully ties his subject matter together, and when I got close to the end of the book and he threw in even more subplots like the assassination of Chicago's extraordinarily popular mayor, and a bit about Theodore Dreiser, it felt very disorienting to me. Don't get me wrong, it was all very interesting and it definitely hasn't put me off Larson as an author, but it wasn't cohesive and I'm a little surprised at just how mainstream The Devil in the White City has become. It will be very interesting as I continue to read Larson's books if The Devil in the White City will stand out for me as his best. My mom has read this one and also Dead Wake, his book about the sinking of the Lusitania, and she has said that Dead Wake is far and away the better of the two. That's probably the one I'll read next, but I'm also very curious to compare The Devil in the White City to his 2006 offering entitled Thunderstruck in which he employs the same device of interweaving two historical events. 

For a history buff like me, The Devil in the White City was a good read, but at this point, I wouldn't recommend Erik Larson over say, Laura Hillenbrand or David McCullough. We'll see how I feel once I have a few more of his books under my belt. 

Have you read any Erik Larson? If you've read any of his other books, did you think they were better than The Devil in the White City?

Let's Bust a Recap : Julie Andrews

Okay, every time I recap a memoir, I feel like I'm always saying how I'm not really a "memoir girl". And I stand by that, I do. But they have been sneaking into the reading rotation more and more in recent years and I feel the need to say, right at the outset: Julie Andrews' memoirs are the first I've picked up and read for the pure fandom. Mary Poppins was my first ever favorite movie. My mom can attest to the fact that I wore out a VHS watching it on repeat. And as you know, I paid good American money a couple weeks ago to go and see The Sound of Music in the cinema, even though I own it on DVD and just watched it earlier this year. Ever since I was a teeny-bopping middle schooler, Julie Andrews has been my number one choice of the person I'd love to sing a duet with if I could choose anyone in the whole world. When Princess Diaries 2 came out and Raven-Symoné got to sing with Queen Clarisse Renaldi at Mia's bachelorette party, I died a little inside. That could have been me, y'all. And listen, if these references are lost on you, don't sweat it, but maybe go to your local library and check out these movies. You're in for a great time. 

When these memoirs first came on my radar a few years ago, they immediately went on my wishlist because Julie Andrews, duh. And by the time I came across two pristine copies at my local Friends of the Library bookstore a few months ago (for a mere $2 apiece, I might add), I already had my ticket to the 60th anniversary screening of The Sound of Music in theaters. And even though these books were obviously not on my list for 2025, I can't turn up my nose at these serendipitous events of circumstance that life sometimes throws us. So shortly after finishing The Story of the Trapp Family Singers by Maria Trapp, I picked up Home, the first of Julie Andrews' two memoirs, published in 2008. 

This book is a memoir of Andrews' early years, starting with a bit of her own family history. Throughout the course of her narrative, Andrews takes us along as she remembers what it was like living in and around London during World War II, her parents' sad divorce that consequently split her and her brother Johnny up between her mother and father, and then beginning voice lessons and touring with her mother and stepfather's vaudeville act. Then getting her big break to star as Eliza Doolittle on Broadway, a role she originated there (oh, to have seen that!). She details more of her stage career leading up to Walt Disney himself contacting her and asking her to be his Mary Poppins. 

While I found this first of her memoirs to have a lot of interesting information, it was a bit slow-going at times. The memories of her early childhood are a bit disjointed (as I imagine most everyone's are), and the details of the different performers and managers she worked with in vaudeville and the stage throughout England were largely unfamiliar to me, making the reading a bit of a slog. 

Her second memoir, Home Work published in 2019, picks up where Home left off, with Julie and her first husband and baby daughter traveling to Hollywood to work on Mary Poppins. This is the book about her Hollywood years—from Mary Poppins to Victor/Victoria—and the flow of this memoir was a lot better, in my opinion. The names cropping up in Home Work were also a lot more familiar to me so naturally it made the reading a bit more interesting. The introduction in Home Work serves as a very serviceable review of Home so unless you are also a diehard fan, I would recommend skipping Home and just reading Home Work. The disappointing thing about her second memoir is that it ends before the infamous throat surgery that ruined her singing voice. While I imagine it wouldn't be pleasant to relive that time in her life for any reason, I was sort of hoping for Andrews' own perspective on the aftermath of that surgery and the impact it had on her life. 

Julie Andrews has always been class personified, and that shines through in her books. Everything in her life, even the difficult things, she writes about with a sort of rose-colored tint to it all—with a spoonful of sugar, if you will. It didn't feel very personal at all, more like she was just relating all the events of her life from almost an outsider's perspective. It was interesting. As much as I enjoyed reading her memoirs, I don't feel as if I really know her any better for it. 

Ultimately, I walked away from these books with a profound gratitude for my own mother. Julie Andrews' mum seemed like a real piece of work, and Julie herself seemed so swept up in her career, her second marriage to a substance-abusing husband, her ideal of living in Switzerland, that she never seemed to prioritize being a stabilizing force in her own children's lives. Her daughter and stepchildren were shuffled back and forth between parents, and the two little girls she adopted from Vietnam were raised by nannies. My own mother is an incredibly talented woman with a remarkable work ethic, and I'm not being glib when I say she could have done or been anything she wanted to be. But she chose to be fully present in the lives of her four children. She gave us the foundation to be anything we wanted to be. And I've watched her be my dad's rock my whole life. We would all fall apart without her, and I'm thankful she didn't leave my upbringing to chance or someone else. 

While I still wouldn't classify myself as a big memoir reader, I appreciate the compassion for others and the gratitude for my own life that reading these books brings up in me. And I guess that's a compelling enough reason to pick one up every once in a while. 

What memoir would you read based solely on your personal fandom of the writer? What person do you wish would write one?

Let's Bust a Recap : Tea with Elephants

Believe it or not, I am still trying to catch up on recaps for books I read last year, and today we're going to cover one of them. Despite this book being by one of my all-time favorite authors with a title that sounds tailor-made for me, it left me with a bad taste in my mouth so I've just been putting off writing this recap even though I've pretty much known exactly what I want to say since finishing this one shortly after it was published last October. 

I mean, "Tea with Elephants"?! Come on. Do y'all remember when I wrote an entire blog post about a tea cup my sister-in-law sent me that was shaped like an elephant? I would have bought this book based on the title alone no matter who the author was, but the fact that Robin Jones Gunn wrote it meant I pre-ordered it immediately after it was announced and opened it up to read as soon as it arrived in the mail. This should have been an easy homerun, and for the most part I really enjoyed it but you guys, ugh. It just didn't do it for me. 

In this brand new series that Robin Jones Gunn is calling "Suitcase Sisters" (which is funny because this book fits solidly into her Sisterchicks format so why the new series?), best friends Fern and Lily end up on the trip of a lifetime to Kenya together, but both arrive carrying some heavy emotional baggage—recent job loss, a strained marital relationship, death of a close family member—and throughout their time together, they do what girlfriends do best: help each other process and heal. 

Like I said, it was mostly a solid offering from an author I love. The descriptions of the lush Kenyan landscape, the exotic animals, and the warm and welcoming people were right on the money. The entitled young influencer Lily and Fern encountered was instantly recognizable. The little Katie Weldon Easter egg for longtime readers was fun. 

But somewhere about halfway through this novel, Lily starts bringing up the fact that Fern has never had a baby and pushing the idea on her even though at no point did Fern bring this up on her own or ask for Lily's opinion. This was not part of the aforementioned baggage that either woman brought with them on the trip. And Fern has a stepson with her husband that she mothered and helped raise. By the end of their trip together, Fern has not only decided she now wants a baby, but when she gets home and informs her husband of this, they immediately get pregnant. This rubbed me so wrong. Now, full disclosure: I am the same age as Fern and Lily in this book, and I also have never experienced pregnancy or childbirth. Whether Robin Jones Gunn intended it or not, the underlying message that your worth as a woman can not be fully realized unless you have brought new life into this world through your body is so damaging. Especially to the countless women who so badly want children and for whatever reason, haven't had any. When I married my husband, I wanted a big family. I wanted to adopt, I wanted to be pregnant, I wanted a house full of kids, and my husband was on board. Over thirteen years later and God did not make us parents. And that's okay. It hasn't been all sunshine and rainbows and smiles, but can I just stand up on this soapbox for a minute and say this loudly for the people in the back: you can be a woman and have a joy-filled, God-glorifying, fully satisfying life without ever pushing a baby out of your body. You really can. 

Just for funsies after finishing this book, I did a Google search for books—novels specifically—about women who have dealt with infertility. I found a lengthy list of popular ones on Goodreads. After reading reviews of the top fifteen or twenty in which every single woman or couple dealing with infertility ended up with a healthy child by the end of the book: I gave up. I'm not one to complain about representation in media (I mean, hello, I'm a straight white American-born woman, what do I really have to complain about?), but if any of y'all are sitting on a really great novel in which the female protagonist starts out wanting a big family, for literally any reason discovers that is not going to be her reality, and then she embraces that reality by the end: please pass that title along, thanks.

I know this recap got a little rant-y, and we even entered some spoiler-y territory as well, but I felt blindsided as I read Tea with Elephants and I obviously had some Big Feelings about it. So would I recommend it? I mean, if you want to read Robin Jones Gunn, this isn't the book I'd press into your hands. But if you don't have any underlying trauma surrounding infertility or growing your family, this might be a great option for you. 

Did you ever get blindsided by a book you expected to really love?

Let's Bust a Recap : The Summer I Turned Pretty

Oh hey there! I let another two months slip by without blogging a single thing so I'd say it's high time to revive my little corner of the internet...at least for the time being. I'm hopelessly behind on recaps but I've been too busy having a fabulous summer to worry about keeping up with the blog. My best friend Amy came to visit me twice in July and we decided to read The Summer I Turned Pretty trilogy together. I'm pretty sure she finished all three books before I even made it through the first one, but I finally finished them and I'm ready to talk about it.

A few years ago, our fledgling—now defunct—book club read Jenny Han's To All the Boys trilogy, and we all loved it. According to the internet, Han is actually best known for The Summer I Turned Pretty books which she wrote first so after reading and loving To All the Boys, I thought to myself, "Maybe someday I'll pick up The Summer I Turned Pretty." 

I also thought to myself, "The Summer I Turned Pretty could not possibly be as good as To All the Boys, so maybe I'll leave it alone." And I went back and forth like this every time I happened to think about it. So goes the typical internal struggle of your average bookworm. Or at least this bookworm. And then one day as I was scrolling Goodreads, I saw that one of my friends was starting To All the Boys and had previously given The Summer I Turned Pretty five stars. I immediately tapped out a comment detailing my dilemma, and she expressed the similar problem of having read The Summer I Turned Pretty first and loving it so much that she wasn't sure To All the Boys could live up to the hype. Well that did it. I'd read The Summer I Turned Pretty for myself and finally get to the bottom of my conundrum. 

SPOILER: To All the Boys I've Loved Before is far and away the superior trilogy. You just can't beat that killer premise. 

As it happened, I began reading the trilogy the same week the final season premiered on Amazon Prime. It seemed like the whole internet had divided into #TeamConrad or #TeamJeremiah, and even people in my real life were talking about it. At absolutely no point during the vicious cycle of my Jenny Han quandary did I have any intention of watching the show and even more so now that I have read the books I have zero desire to watch it. I am firmly in the camp of if-you-date-two-brothers-you-probably-have-no-business-ending-up-with-either-one-of-them. 

In case you were wondering what this trilogy is even about: I can basically sum it up by saying that over the course of three books, we get a front row seat to our protagonist Belly Conklin's angst over what to do about her lifelong love for Conrad Fisher when his younger brother (her best friend) Jeremiah Fisher confesses his love for her. The first book is completely from Belly's perspective during the summer of her 16th birthday. Every summer of young Belly's life, including the summer she was still in utero, has been spent at Cousins Beach with her mom, brother, and her mom's best friend and her two sons. Belly is the youngest of the four kids and has always felt left out of the boys' club, but this particular summer, she's no longer on the fringe of things. The second book is also mostly from Belly's perspective, but we also get to see behind the curtain into Jeremiah's perspective. And in the final installment of the trilogy, we get a few glimpses into Conrad's perspective. 

It wasn't great, but I will say that by the halfway point of the third book, I was invested and had to know how it would all turn out. Amy and I agreed that the middle book, It's Not Summer Without You, was the strongest of the trilogy, but differed when it came to whether the first or final book came in second: Amy preferred The Summer I Turned Pretty, while I actually really liked the ending Han managed to pull off in We'll Always Have Summer. 

Overall, I don't really understand why these books were such a hit. Belly wasn't a particularly likeable protagonist, and she never really grew up until we were down to the literal last pages. And as for the Fisher boys, I wasn't exactly swooning over either one. But to each their own. As far as my personal recommendation goes, skip The Summer I Turned Pretty but don't miss out on To All the Boys I've Loved Before.

Did you read this trilogy or watch the very popular Prime adaptation? Were you #TeamConrad, #TeamJeremiah, or #TeamGrowUpAndMoveOn? 

Let's Bust a Recap : Women of the Word

Hi again! This is the second post this week for the second week in a row. Look at us go! Dare I say the blog is officially revived? I think I'm going to try to keep up this Monday/Thursday schedule until we're all caught up. But of course now that I've said it, you probably won't see another post around here for a month or so. (And if you're sitting there thinking, "There she goes, trying to hedge her bets"—you know me so well.) 

Anyway, today we're picking up another one of the books that's been sitting in my trusty book cart since I finished it last year: Women of the Word by Jen Wilkin. This Bible study aid published back in 2014 is Wilkin's first book and probably her most well-known. I know it's the one that has been recommended to me the most often. I read it over the course of two months last year—mid-August to mid-October—with three of my friends. This was a great book to read with company and there are helpful discussion questions at the end of each chapter for that exact purpose. 

Although I've had this book for several years and, as aforementioned, it's the Jen Wilkin book most often recommended to me, it's the one I've been most hesitant to read. I have long felt cautious about treating the Bible like a textbook or just another source of helpful information as opposed to what it actually is: the very Word of God to His people. Jen Wilkin's study method seemed intense to me (SPOILER ALERT: it is) which put it—in my mind—in the danger zone of making the Bible wholly academic. The perilous flip side of my own way of thinking is never studying the Bible at all. I certainly don't want to fall into that trap either. Jen Wilkin comes out swinging at the beginning of her book with the challenge that if we love God, we will want to know Him intimately. And the place we go to know Him is His Word. 

Touché, Jen. 

She also argues that you can't love something with your heart that you don't know with your mind.

Chalk another point up for Jen.

So right away she got me thinking and one of the conclusions I came to before even getting into the meat of the book is that if I say I love God with my heart, but I don't know Him—through His Word—with my mind, I'm prone to love a God of my own making, not the God who has actually revealed Himself to me in Scripture. 

All right then, Jen, let's get into it. 

She goes on to outline some common Bible study methods that aren't great, giving them amusing nicknames like The Pinball Approach, or The Magic 8-Ball Method, or The Personal Shopper. She then encourages her reader to take in the whole counsel of God. As a rule, tackle it expositionally rather than topically. 

Then she really gets into the nitty-gritty of Bible study. Some of this part of the book felt a bit like I was in an English Lit class, but it was a good review of how to read well. I appreciated her point that if we don't look at the context—Who wrote it? When was it written? To whom was it written? In what style was it written? Why was it written?—we are apt to misinterpret what we're reading. The Bible can't mean something to me that it didn't mean to its original audience. 

Although the process that Wilkin outlines and recommends is intensive and I have not used all of her methods; in reading Women of the Word I felt, if truth be told, affirmed in my own approach to Scripture. That is definitely not a credit to me. I'm very thankful that I was raised by parents who taught me the whole counsel of God—at home and from the pulpit—and encouraged me to read and study the Scriptures for myself. I particularly resonated with Wilkin's encouragement to treat Bible study like a savings account. Her advice is to keep reading and studying God's Word even when we don't understand it. Save that away. The Holy Spirit may illuminate a particularly tricky passage years later after we've read it hundreds of times. I know I've experienced this in my own study, and it was validating to hear her articulate my own experiences back to me.

She closes out her book with a chapter about teaching and common teaching pitfalls. I especially appreciated her warning about feminizing the Bible. It seems to be a trap that modern Christian writers can fall into and my radar is constantly up when I'm reading books by female authors I haven't encountered before. 

Ultimately though, I think the best thing Wilkin says in her entire book has to do with bathing our study of Scripture in prayer. 

"Without prayer, our study is nothing but an intellectual pursuit. With prayer, it is a means of communing with the Lord. Prayer is what changes our study from the pursuit of knowledge to the pursuit of God Himself."

Exactly right, Jen.  

You can read my reviews of the other Jen Wilkin books I've read here and here. How do you approach the Bible? Has your study of God's Word benefited from other books? And if yes, what books?

Let's Bust a Recap : The Nightingale

The Nightingale was not on my list for 2025, but it's been sitting on my shelf for years. I've lost count of the people in my real life who have personally recommended this book to me, not to mention the hordes on the internet who have raved about it since it came out. It's been a contender for my book list for the last three years at least, but it's never quite made the final cut. And then at the end of February, I happened to catch one of my Goodreads friends unboxing her copy of the brand new 10th anniversary edition on one of her social media accounts. 

What?! The Nightingale is already ten years old? That can't be! But sure enough, a quick Google search revealed to me that this internationally best-selling book was published in February of 2015 and after doing a little recall of my own, I've had a copy sitting on my shelf for at least seven of those ten years. I did not think twice: I went straight to my shelf, pulled down my copy, and sat down to start reading. I must have had at least eight other books in progress, but I was immediately swept away into WWII occupied France.

"If I have learned anything in this long life of mine, it is this: 

In love we find out who we want to be; in war we find out who we are."

This is the opening line of Kristin Hannah's powerful novel of two sisters and the very different choices they make during the course of Word War II. Vianne, married with a small daughter, is living a quiet, comfortable life in a small village before her husband is conscripted and eventually taken as a prisoner of war. Her younger sister Isabelle has been in and out of finishing schools, and as the Germans occupy France, her father sends her to Vianne in the country, but Isabelle is hungry to take an active role in the resistance movement. Fiery Isabelle can't understand her sister's quiet seeming acceptance of their new reality, especially when a German officer is billeted in Vianne's home. As the sisters' paths diverge, we follow each of them along their impossible journeys to cope with the war and watch them grapple with how to make sense of and live with integrity in the midst of such inconceivable evil. While their decisions take them in very different directions, both display heroic bravery in the heartbreaking circumstances they find themselves in.

And wow. What a story. I couldn't put The Nightingale down, and neither could my mom, and then neither could my dad. Hannah based the Isabelle character on a Belgian woman named Andrée de Jongh and the Vianne character on countless French women who put themselves in harm's way to save others. Her thorough research lent an authenticity to her story that broke my heart several times over. My parents and I discussed at length the impossible situations people found themselves in during the war and how they coped with it all. It boggles my mind to this day the depravity that humankind is capable of and how so many people during the war couldn't believe the things that were happening were even possible, much less that those things would happen to them. 

The content of this story is hard to stomach—at one point I was actually hyperventilating I was so upset, and my dad called me after he finished admitting that it made him cry—but the book is so well-written and the story so compelling that it isn't any wonder The Nightingale turned Kristin Hannah into a household name despite the fact she's been putting out a new novel every year or two since 1991. I fully understand why my friends have all been pestering me to read her work. As it happens, I've collected four of her other books since the massive success of The Nightingale, but The Nightingale is the first I've read. Upon finishing the book, my mom immediately borrowed Winter Garden and read that one too. 

After we had all finished it, I asked my parents which they would choose if they had to recommend either The Nightingale or All the Light We Cannot See (another novel set in occupied France during WWII). My mom couldn't decide, but my dad immediately said The Nightingale. Safe to say, we all would recommend both of these books without question. As the saying goes, "those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it" and books like these help us remember. 

Have you read any of Kristin Hannah's books? Which one should I read next?

Let's Bust a Recap : A House Without Windows

Alright, after recapping my most recently read book on Monday, we're taking it all the way back to the book that's been waiting the longest for a recap. I read A House Without Windows in August last year after drawing it out of the TBR Jar. I picked this book up at my local library's annual sale a few years back when they were doing their $5 box day, and I have no idea when I actually would have gotten around to reading it if I hadn't pulled this title out of my TBR Jar last year. Much like I approached The Beekeeper of Aleppo with a bit of trepidation, I faced the opening sentences of A House Without Windows with some apprehension. What are the odds I pull two books featuring areas known for ongoing conflict and unrest? But that's what happened and as it turned out, I spoke too soon when I said we should all read The Beekeeper of Aleppo instead of The Kite Runner. A House Without Windows is the more appropriate replacement due to the fact that both books are written by Afghan American doctors and feature Afghani stories. Consider this my official revision of my original statement and wholehearted endorsement that we should all be reading Nadia Hashimi instead of Khaled Hosseini. (And no, I will never let this go: I hated The Kite Runner so much.)

A House Without Windows was published in 2016 and is Hashimi's third international best-seller. In the opening pages, we meet Zeba who is found in a catatonic state, covered in her husband's blood, next to his body with a hatchet in his back. She is immediately taken to Kabul's women's prison, and her young children are taken to her husband's family. We also meet idealistic Yusuf, an Afghan-born but American-raised lawyer ready to return to his native home and do some good there. When he is assigned Zeba's case, his client is nothing like what he expects and when she won't speak to him, he doesn't know how to handle her case. As Zeba slowly befriends other women at the prison, many of them there for "love crimes", they begin to wonder if she has her mother's power of jadu, and they start to confide their hopes for their futures in her. As Yusuf struggles to get to the bottom of what really happened to Zeba's husband Kamal, he also has to contend with his American sense of justice and face the reality that he may not be able to bring any meaningful change to his war-torn homeland.

This story was beautiful and heart-wrenching all at once. Hashimi deftly weaves together the many threads in her narrative in a gentle way that opens the reader's eyes to the plight of Afghani women without dragging you down into miry despair. I was intrigued by the murder mystery aspect which kept me turning the pages right to the end, and I appreciated the way Hashimi ended on a hopeful note without compromising the reality of life for women in Afghanistan. While the actual details of the murder are hard to stomach, Hashimi handles her difficult content delicately with a skilled hand. This story has stayed with me since turning the final page several months ago. 

Reading A House Without Windows and The Beekeeper of Aleppo last year really broadened my horizons. Coming face to face with the realities women contend with in these conflict-ridden regions made me so profoundly grateful for my own reality of growing up in the United States where I am free and respected as a human being, equal to the other humans around me. These are the reasons I try to diversify my reading, and those instincts were rewarded by these two excellent novels. I highly recommend both. I even bought Hashimi's debut novel on a recent trip to my favorite secondhand bookstore, and I look forward to reading it soon.

Why do you read? What books have opened your eyes to something you will probably never experience in your own life?