I like to rotate books seasonally for my toddler. It keeps them fresh for her, but also for the adults who get to read them over and over again. And I do mean over and over again. So, I love finding a book that I enjoy reading aloud just as much as she enjoys hearing it. This fall, that book is Room on the Broom (Puffin Books, 2003), written by Julia Donaldson and illustrated by Axel Scheffler.
This children’s picture book follows a broom-riding witch who just can’t seem to keep herself together as she flies through the night. Along the way, she finds some good friends who help her on her journey. Written with a lyrical rhythm that keeps the story moving, this delightful tale is the perfect read-aloud. The characters are fun and cartoonish, never scary, and the story feels Halloween-adjacent without being specifically about the holiday. From a literacy perspective, the story includes repeating words and events that make it easy for little ears to follow along. My daughter especially loves saying “Whoosh!” every time the witch takes off on her broom, and after only a couple of readings, she was already anticipating those moments.
This funny fantasy story explores themes of friendship, kindness, and making room for everyone in a way that is accessible to young readers. Whether you’re looking for a fun fall book, a new story time favorite, or simply a charming picture book, Room on the Broom is an excellent choice. As someone who has now read it about twenty times, I can confidently recommend it. Since my daughter and I have read this book so many times together, it feels right to close with one of our favorite lines: “The witch tapped the broomstick, and whoosh! they were gone.”
Donaldson, Julia. Room on the Broom. Puffin Books. 2003.
In Plot Twist, author Harlan Coben offers his perspective on the writing process through a memoir with insights, observations, and practical advice. The book is not only about how Coben writes, but also about the creative process and the life experiences that have shaped his outlook and style. It is as much a nostalgic memoir as it is a book about writing.
Coben explores writing and storytelling by telling his own story, creating a work that functions as both memoir and writing guide. He explains that the book is intended to motivate and encourage those aspiring to write.
Coben has written 38 thrillers, many of them bestsellers, with more than 100 million copies in print worldwide. His books have been adapted into more than 20 television and film productions. Coben’s novels are psychological thrillers that typically feature ordinary people confronted by secrets from their past.
My introduction to Coben came through his conversation with Guy Kawasaki on the Remarkable People podcast. Until recently, I had neither read any of his novels nor watched any of their adaptations.
Throughout the book, Coben offers memories from his childhood and his early years as a writer. He reveals the inspirations behind some of his most memorable characters and the creative twists that have become notable in his fiction. Along the way, he blends memoir with reflections on creativity and the writing process.
Coben contrasts his writing to others in that he does not organize his approach around traditional categories such as character, plot, and setting. Instead, he describes a more holistic process. Plot Twist explores not only the mechanics of writing but also what it means to be a writer. For Coben, the craft involves self-doubt, confidence, persistence, and dedication. His philosophy is, “If it helps me produce pages, good. If it doesn’t, bad.” One of his primary goals is to encourage aspiring writers to keep producing pages.
Among Coben’s best-known works is the Myron Bolitar series, featuring a former basketball player turned sports agent who finds himself investigating crimes involving friends and clients. The character reflects aspects of Coben’s own background, including his time at the University of Massachusetts Amherst, where he attended on a basketball scholarship.
There are a number of notable books on writing by successful authors. Among them are Anne Lamott’s Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life and Stephen King’s On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft.
Coben, Harlan. Plot Twist: Life, Craft, and the Messy First Draft. Hachette. 2026.
I recently discovered the long-running British reality series, Escape to the Chateau, which follows Angel and Dick Strawbridge as they renovate a 19th century Chateau in northwestern France. It’s what one would call low-stakes television, and the kind of show you can put on in the background while you work on your own projects. The series covers much more than renovation, with segments focusing on gardening, cooking, or family activities with the Strawbridge children. Viewers also tag along as they prepare to host weddings and parties. Sadly, I was unable to find the first six seasons, so I decided to pick up the Strawbridges’ book, A Year at the Chateau, to learn more about their first adventurous year in France.
“We wanted somewhere that was impressive enough to hold weddings but would also feel like a home. What I was seeing was perfection. The chateau was a happy place and you could feel it. Every room I entered showed signs of elegance and that the previous custodians had cared for every detail. Faded glory came to mind. Every room told a different story and even though there was no furniture, the curtains, wall-papers, windows and flooring were more than enough to bring the picture to life.”- Angel Strawbridge
A Year at the Chateau alternates between Dick and Angel’s perspectives. Dick often wears the hat of engineer when approaching a project, while Angel has a clear vision of how she wants a completed space to look and feel. Together, their primary objective was to make the chateau into a family home, and a place to raise their two children, who were both under two when they moved to the property in 2015.
The book provides an overview of some of their early challenges, including establishing basic working plumbing and electricity, and navigating their new life in France. After basic accommodations were established, much of their first year was spent planning their wedding and preparing the Chateau for the grand celebration. Much like the show, food is featured heavily, as the Strawbridges both love cooking and exploring the culinary delights of their new home in France. Simple meals eaten on lunch breaks as well as elaborate feasts with friends and family are described with gusto, and the book is peppered with a few of their favorite recipes.
Readers who enjoyed Escape to the Chateau will likely find A Year at the Chateau to be a light and pleasant read.
A Year at the Chateau, by Dick Strawbridge and Angel Strawbridge, 2021, Seven Dials.
First off, it’s getting harder and harder to find books of interest, from library or not, especially of the non-fiction variety. Some look ok but are only available from my library electronically, and many books are started but not finished, as I lose interest at various points in. A Walk in the Park: The True Story of a Spectacular Misadventure in the Grand Canyon is a worthwhile read, but nothing spectacular. It is a collaborative effort of adventure writer Kevin Fedarko and photographer Pete McBride, as they embarked on a 750-mile end-to-end hike of the Grand Canyon. Note that this was completed in sections, and after the first section, they both (ill-prepared and inexperienced) nearly died and had to be extracted to recover from various injuries, hyponatremia, and overall despair before returning at a later date to pick up where they left off. The hike took them a cumulative 73 days. Since Fedarko was the writer of their adventure and McBride the photographer, an appropriate companion piece to A Walk in the Park would be McBride’s photo collection, called The Grand Canyon Between River and Rim. Of course, my library doesn’t carry it. All, however, is not lost, as McBride’s website contains some of his stunning photography. Just a taste though.
A Walk in the Park jumps back and forth between a history of epic canyon hikes and adventures by others, to the specific journey of these two fellas (which sometimes involved more experienced individuals tagging along as guides or support). It also includes the Native history and their continued presence in the canyon. One of these is the controversial “Helicopter Alley”, where literally hundreds of copters (and some planes) traverse throughout the canyon (many beginning the journey from Las Vegas). Like many other things, these flights have corrupted the true nature and solitude of the canyon, as it’s suffered from being on the bucket list of the wealthy and entitled. Of course, there have been numerous crashes and deaths over the years as well. The Hualapai Nation operates major flight-based tourism and operates the Skywalk at the West Rim (outside strict national park boundaries) tourist attraction, relying heavily on these revenues for tribal economic support. Of course, this is a double-edged sword. While on the one hand it’s great that the tourism dollars have helped the Hualapai’s, but on the other, the question remains at what expense? Approximately 300-500 flights here occur daily, which provides a constant noise polluting whir, as well as littering of the landscape. The second is the building of the Skywalk, which you can visit for the best value price of $99. But hey, it includes a few extras if you are into them. I suppose we should take solace in the fact that they have yet to put a casino on the edge of the canyon.
Fedarko, Kevin. A Walk in the Park: The True Story of a Spectacular Misadventure in the Grand Canyon. Scribner. 2024.
Welcome to Dark Enterprises, an international corporation that prides itself on solving the problems their clients don’t have the stomach for, ethics be damned. Clientele ranges from politicians and tech giants to fast-fashion manufacturers and oil conglomerates. Looking for a new job? Dark Enterprise is always hiring…as long as you aren’t squeamish about a little blood, and promise not to unleash any demons on company property.
After 2 years in Human Resources, Colin Harris is stuck in a dead-end job at Dark Enterprises. His reports are riddled with mysterious errors, thanks to his supervisor’s bitter (but cute) assistant, whose advances Colin rejected. If he can’t fix his poor performance evaluation, he’ll be terminated… literally. No one wants a visit from Personnel’s Firing Squad.
Well, Colin decides he’s done waiting to be recognized for his proven track record as an dynamic innovator and synergistic team player. He’s not a clock watcher. He’s going to think outside the box. He’s going to move the goal posts. He strikes a deal with a visiting entity that promises him his heart’s desire in exchange for a small, unspecified favor. What could go wrong?
Shortly after his promotion to executive assistant to the CEO, he learns his shadowy benefactor is an immortal spirit hell-bent on devouring the world and that he, Colin, is responsible for freeing him from the safeguards Dark Enterprise has been maintaining for centuries. When hordes of people in New York City begin disappearing, Management starts asking questions. Now, in addition to managing the CEO’s schedule and fetching coffee, Colin must figure out how to stop the apocalypse. Is this above his paygrade? Is rounding up demons about as easy as herding cats? Are there other colleagues he can just throw under the bus?
“Colin Gets Promoted and Dooms the World” by Mark Waddell is all the corporate jargon you’ll find in a real office, plus bosses that might actually be from hell!
Waddell, Mark. Colin Gets Promoted and Dooms the World. Ace, 2025.
You’ve definitely heard of Helen of Troy. And possibly her sisters Clytemnestra and Timandra. But, did you know there was a fourth sister? Philonoe was cursed along with her sisters, but you most likely have never heard of her.
Greek myth tells of the sisters, who were cursed by Aphrodite to leave or betray their husbands, due to their father, King Tyndareus, forgetting to honor the goddess.
In the graphic novel, The Lost Daughter of Sparta, Felicia Day and Rowan MacColl share Philonoe’s tale.
Philonoe is desperate not to end up like her sisters and is given the opportunity to lift the curse by Aphrodite, but it will be a difficult undertaking. She is tasked with completing multiple, practically impossible quests. With the help of the goddess Artemis, Philonoe goes on a classic heroine’s journey, encountering monsters and gods and prophecies, learning more than she ever expected about herself and what she really wants and needs.
Felicia Day is one of my favorite geeks and her typical wit shines through in this story of strength and self discovery, bringing an unknown Greek myth to modern audiences. Rowan MacColl’s mostly black and white illustrations, with splashes of dark red, are a perfect complement to Day’s writing.
Day, Felicia. The Lost Daughter of Sparta. Illustrations by Rowan MacColl. Gallery Books, 2026.
Mom, Dad, and their two young sons go to a farm for a week’s vacation. Sam and Eli meet the farm’s two rescue donkeys, Lucky & Norman. The donkeys step back from the fence and will not come forward. The farmer tells them all they must give the donkeys time to trust them, and he has some ideas for what the boys can do.
It isn’t until the morning of the third day of their week that Lucky & Norman were at the fence waiting for them. Now they could play together with them, and they did – all day. The boys and the donkeys had a great time.
A few days later, the boys are sad because they must leave the next day and will never see the donkeys again. The farmer has some words of advice. And as the family drives away, Mama says. “The quiet ache of goodbye…but also, the gentle joy of remembering.” It is bittersweet.
It is that time of the year when we keenly feel the passing of time. There is a great sense of an ending — the end of summer vacations, the end of long days, the end of warmth — and the year draws closer to its own end.
It can be a fraught time. A time when grief wells up and gets closer to the surface. When we measure ourselves against our dreams and plans and all-too-often find that we come up short.
The Wheel of the Year is a reconstructed cycle of observed seasons based on what ancient Celtic cultures — amongst others — might have followed. Very little recorded information from this period survives; but what we do know is that the Celts, like most agrarian societies, would have lived very seasonally by necessity. You can’t plant wheat in January, after all.
Rosie Steer, who is Scottish, adapts the reconstructed Wheel of the Year as a deliberate blueprint for those all too sick of the hyper-linear rat-race that has made itself too comfortable in modern times. The benefits of modern, urban lifestyles has one immense drawback: the disconnect (and the encouragement of that disconnect) from nature and its natural flow and cycle of time. However, Steer argues (in her soothing Scottish lilt) that even those of us surrounded by more concrete and asphalt than woodlands and wildflowers can still find signs of this cycle.
Slow Seasons is more of a lifestyle guide — full of recipes and activities based on each festival — than a philosophical memoir, which is what I presumed when I borrowed it. Still, there is enough meditation to urge the reader to shift their perspective. The year doesn’t end; it is a circle. Midwinter/Yule arrives, and the beginning of Spring (Imbolc) follows after as more and more light fills each day.
The audiobook has lovely music and even sound effects — as the Wheel of the Year draws closer to the end of the year, the sound of crunching leaves and a hearth-fire crackling are layered under Steer’s voice. This was very pleasing once I realized that what I was hearing was not my cat eating plastic.
Steer, R. (2023). Slow seasons: A creative guide to reconnecting with nature the Celtic Way. Bloomsbury Publishing.
I finally read The Thin Man, by Dashiell Hammett. I’ve watched almost all of the movies (there are 6) with William Powell and Myrna Loy as Nick and Nora Charles. I wanted to see how it stood up to the movie, and vice versa. The movie is a thinner version of the book, but very true to the feel of the book. Several phrases are lifted straight from the book. It’s told from Nick’s point of view, in the Christmas season of 1932. Now a moment to set the time period. The radio, the phonograph (record player) and movies are the primary media, along with magazines and newspapers. Direct communication is through the dial phone. The FBI crime lab has just been set up. The 1932 Winter Olympics are at Lake Placid, the Lindburgh baby is kidnapped, Amelia Earhart flies from the US to Derry, Northern Ireland, and prohibition is still in full swing (it ends in 1933).The Miranda warning doesn’t become in use until 1966, and interrogations with the police can get violent. The primary long distance travel option is the train.
The Thin Man by Dashiell Hammett
Nick Charles is the son of a Greek immigrant, who had been working for a detective agency, before he met, and married Nora, a socialite. Now they live in California, but have gone East to evade the holiday season with Nora’s family. They’re in the tax bracket that can rent a suite in an expensive hotel while in New York. Nick meets an ex-client’s daughter, Dorothy, daughter of Clyde Wynant. She hasn’t seen him for years, and can’t find him. Which is how the story begins, and the Charles’ involvement in the entire mystery. Several times I came across lines that are featured in the film, “you got types?” “Only you, darling—lanky brunetts with wicked jaws. Despite trying his best to not be pulled into the mystery of the murdered secretary, and the disappearing inventor, he is dragged into it. The Charles’ deal with gangsters (both known and unknown to Nick), the rich, and the Wynant family. Asta, the schnauzer is featured, too, and is female.
This was my first time actually reading Hammett, and was surprised at how many sections of dialogue were included in the movie. It’s written in very spare prose, without much of what Nick thinks of situations, except when he says what he thinks. A title this old does have some non–PC language, but not as much as one would think. Apparently, Hemingway liked Dashiell Hammett’s books, and he was admired by Hammett. Nora is definitely herself in the book, and they are both definitely care for each other. The characters do come across, even in this spare style of writing. But you’ll need to read it to find the twists that keep the mystery moving. It’s a snapshot of a very specific time.
Hammet had been with the Pinkerton detective agency, as a detective. The experience underpins his work, giving it a realistic feel. He’s credited for the Hardboiled Detective school of detective fiction. His books and short stories certainly influence film noir style movies. In 1990 the Crime Writers Association picked three of his five novels for their list of The Top 100 Crime Novels of All Time. Of all his novels, The Thin Man is the only one to include comedy as well as detection. It is also his last novel.
The Thin Man, by Dashiell Hammett, Vintage Crime/Black Lizard Edition, a division of Random House, 1992 (First printed in 1933, 1934, by Alfred A. Knopf, Inc. trade paperback.
Most people would run away from a boy who runs around lighting things on fire and destroying everything in his wake. But not Mercy Thompson. She ran at first, then looked again and saw the scared little boy in the middle of the flames. Burning everything because he knew no other way to exist and deal with the world.
This young boy had been stolen by the fae as a young boy and shaped by dark forces into something he was never meant to exist: a fire touched shapeshifter who burns down the world. When everyone else ran or tried to take him out, Mercy saw something different and treated him with kindness and humanity. We’ll casually ignore that she can shapeshift into a coyote, was raised by werewolves, and hangs out with vampires. Let’s not get bogged down by details.
Fire Touched by Patricia Briggs became one of my favorites in the Mercy Thompson book series because of how this character learns and grows over time. It took one person to see him for who he was before he could start to take small steps towards being who he should have been all his life: a kind, gentle boy who wants to use his flames for good. His name is Aiden.
He comes onto the scene in a chaotic battle filled with anger and flames, knowing nothing of the human world except that he must burn everything around him to survive. Human connection, kindness and understanding are foreign concepts. He knew only a world of brutal captivity and servitude at the hands of the fae, doing as he was told.
Then he was pulled out of that world and tossed into a boisterous house filled with caring werewolves and camaraderie. Aiden had no idea what to do with kindness, assuming everyone was going to hurt him eventually. The transition was brutal and lasted several books. Between the pages, his journey towards living a new and better life silently continued.
Like learning how to live on a different planet, with people entirely different from yourself who connect and show care in different ways. You may have seen a similar scenario play out when people who grew up in less than happy circumstances try to navigate a comparatively normal world. Learning a new culture, new societal norms, and entirely new ways of showing up and existing in the world. Learning a new language of care and empathy.
In most academic articles and job training programs, they call this transition ‘trauma-informed librarianship, or ‘trauma-informed management’. Yet the training programs and guides I’ve seen don’t always reflect the lived experience of people who make the brutally hard transition from fully unlearning their own life and relearning patterns and behaviors they had never seen.
Mercy became the example Aiden could copy and learn from to figure out how to live life in the way he deserved. She didn’t start and stop at ‘well, sometimes he burns things’. She dug deeper and helped him become an emotional being who could make his own decisions and shape the life he wanted, on his own terms. Not everyone has Mercy in their lives.
Aiden’s story is more realistic in the way people actually learn and grow. There are points of forward progress, then frustrating setbacks while the outside world looks on in confusion at behaviors that oscillate from positive to negative, connected to distant, back and forth. This oscillation is not always covered in these starkly academic training programs and guides. Reading through stories of how trauma occurred and which events shaped a person is not the same as reading the messy story of healing and growth.
Werewolf, fae, vampire, and fantasy books are quietly riddled with these stories of healing and growth. Tracking story arcs as people move from a place of trauma and pain to wonder and excitement at what the future holds, then making that future happen. The path is not linear, and it looks different for everyone. It’s just easier to read about when the trauma happened in a distant, fantastical land that could never be seen in our world.
I read fantasy novels not to escape from the world, but to see the dark and scary parts of our world more clearly. So next time you see someone lashing out in a fit of rage, know that there is probably something that caused that behavior. The Mercys of the world are equipped to identify and handle this situation, but most people aren’t. Sadly, the cruel hard truth is that most people should probably run to save themselves. It’s hard to heal, and it’s hard to be a healer.
With more trauma-informed librarian courses coming out, and communities half-expecting libraries to take on the role of social worker, this seemed like a good time to put out the reminder that it’s not our job to fix people. I’ve seen people walk out of those training courses ready to take on the world, but with no lived experience of how the healing process works. Those courses exist to help you make sense of strange behavior, connect people who request referrals with connections to appropriately support resources in the right way, and keep yourself and your patrons safe.
Some courses claim to train you to be a trauma-informed ally, but those are loaded words that should be taken with a grain of salt. It’s not our job to heal people. We may sometimes play a small role, and we can exhibit kindness and compassion, but we’re not social workers. We’re not therapists. And it’s not on us to take on the flames and burn to heal the world.
So if you’re moved by the Aidens of the world, that’s amazing. But please look for these three things before you try to support the healing process: 1) Make sure you yourself know the pattern of healing and growth; 2) You need the emotional capacity and skilled technique to help without being dragged into an oscillating vortex; 3) The person you’re helping needs to be ready to heal and change. It also helps to have a trained therapist or support network in the background.
As librarians, we tend to be natural-born helpers and healers. But this story can help you see in exaggerated, dramatic detail what it takes to actually heal over time, and how the role of the healer requires grit and a realistic approach to change. So read on to find out how people realistically grow from wanting to burn down the world to trying to build back better. Then how to help without getting burned.
I first learned of Nick Hornby’s 1992 memoir, Fever Pitch, in a May 29, 2026 NPR story about Arsenal winning England’s Premier League trophy for the first time in 22 years. I bought a copy for my son, an ardent Arsenal FC fan, thinking he might be interested. I got to it first though, and it turned into a good summer diversion—especially when paired with the World Cup!
Fever Pitch begins in 1968 when an 11-year-old Hornby attends his first Arsenal game. The book is divided into three parts, covering the years 1968-1975, 1976-1986, and 1986-1992. These parts are further divided into short chronological segments, each identified with a particular match (e.g., “Arsenal v Newcastle 17.4.71”). Unlike most memoirs, which leave the reader better acquainted with the writer, Fever Pitch has a narrower focus: the experience of being a sports fan. Emotionally, it is a detailed explication of despair and drudgery interspersed with rare bursts of rapture. And it is pretty specific to association football (what we in the U.S. call soccer) in England.
Someone steeped in English football lore would probably have different takeaways from this memoir than I did–references to famous Arsenal players of the past, as well as game play descriptions, went over my head. Still, I learned a lot. As part of his commentary Hornby references team origins dating back to the 1800s, football specials (trains chartered to transport fans to away games), hooliganism, terrace culture, and the tragic inadequacy of 100+-year-old stadiums built for smaller crowds. He also discusses fan racism toward black players, which he loathes. And while he admits he could stop going to games in protest, he also confesses “part of me, however, knows that I can’t stop because of the strength of my obsession” (183).
Toward the end of the memoir, as Hornby enters his early thirties, football is still his obsession. He describes it as “tyranny” and “a disability that has to be worked around” (205). It has seen him through his teen years following his parents’ divorce, and the depression that plagued him for most of the 1980s (something he mentions in passing and after the fact). But his life is starting to change. In “Arsenal v Coventry 22.8.89” he reveals that he’s acquired a mortgage and an accountant; his nightlife preferences have evolved; and he buys an Arsenal season-ticket for the seats in lieu of standing as he’d done in the past (224).
Fever Pitch ends in 1992, shortly after Arsenal wins the 1991 League Championship. We never really get to see Hornby on the other side of his transition to established adulthood. And as he, himself, states in a 2015 interview with The Guardian, “If I were to write Fever Pitch now, it would be older, wiser and more boring because one of the things that made the book was its lack of perspective.” If you find perspective overrated and you are a fan of English football, however, this might be the memoir for you!
I remember an intriguing footnote from one of my high school world history classes: Aristotle, one of history’s most influential philosophers and an early pioneer of scientific inquiry, served as the personal tutor of Alexander the Great, one of history’s most successful military commanders. What this simple fact leaves out are the complexities of their relationship. How did Aristotle and Alexander meet? What was their relationship like? How did a philosopher who preferred the painstaking study of plants and animals interact with a young prince seemingly born for the battlefield?
This is the relationship Annabel Lyon explores in her debut novel, The Golden Mean. But the novel is much more than a retelling of events beginning in 343 BCE. Its greatest triumph is its incisive portrayal of Aristotle and Alexander as two deeply flawed people with wildly different ambitions who nevertheless complement one another.
The novel’s themes reflect Aristotle’s own philosophy, particularly his ideas about friendship and love. Aristotle distinguished among friendships based on utility, pleasure, and virtue, and these different forms of connection unfold throughout the novel. King Philip of Macedon values Aristotle largely for his usefulness as a tutor to his sons. Aristotle’s relationship with his wife, Pythias, is more complicated. Their marriage was arranged, and although they may not share romantic love, they develop mutual respect and affection. Aristotle, meanwhile, recognizes Alexander’s extraordinary potential. Their relationship begins with a clear imbalance of power—the tutor and his pupil—but that dynamic gradually changes. Alexander eventually commands armies in battle, while Aristotle follows as a physician under his former student’s authority.
Although Aristotle and Alexander are destined for very different lives, each provides something the other needs. Their bond becomes what Aristotle might call a friendship of virtue: one rooted in mutual respect and in the desire to see the other become the best version of himself.
The novel does not romanticize the ancient world. Slavery, sickness, violence, and excess are depicted alongside intellectual discovery and military glory. Lyon strips away the grandeur surrounding the classical world and reminds us that Aristotle was only a man, as were Plato and the many kings, soldiers, and playwrights who appear throughout the story.
At the center of the novel is the idea of the golden mean, Aristotle’s belief that virtue lies between two extremes. Alexander challenges this theory: How can anyone determine where those extremes lie? He then offers his own proposition: If the theory were applied to people, Alexander would stand at one extreme and Aristotle at the other.
Perhaps that is why, despite the depth of their friendship, Aristotle and Alexander are ultimately destined to follow separate paths. Each may provide balance for the other, but neither can remain in the middle for long.to the world of Disney Fairies.
Lyon, Annabel. The Golden Mean. Random House Canada, 2009.
Bob Dylan’s The Philosophy of Modern Song is a series of reflections put together by an experienced architect of rhythm and rhyme. For decades, Dylan has operated as arguably the ultimate poet-songwriter of the American mythos. In this collection of 66 essays, he turns his sharp, lyrical eye away from his own catalog to dissect the work of others, delivering a masterclass in musical appreciation that is deeply subjective, beautifully eccentric, and unabashedly hip. The most striking element of the book is its writing style; at first, I thought it came across as pretentious, but then I appreciated it as simply authentic Dylan. He rejects academic analysis. Instead, he leans into a hard-boiled, streetwise, pulp-fiction vernacular that feels incredibly timely and timeless. He writes in punchy, rhythmic sentences, often slipping into the second person to drag the reader right into the emotional stuff of a song. His prose mimics the cadence of a Beat poet or a 1940s film noir detective, filled with grit, smoke, and late-night desperation. He doesn’t just explain a track; he riffs on it, creating parallel narratives that match the mood of the music.
As a Nobel laureate in Literature, Dylan’s reputation as a master wordsmith precedes him, and this book reinforces that legacy. You are not reading a standard critic; you are reading a practitioner of the craft. He understands the architecture of a rhyme. He decodes the hidden nuances of simple phrasing. He honors raw, emotional truth over technical perfection. When he analyzes tracks by artists like Hank Williams, Nina Simone, or Elvis Costello, he exposes the very DNA of songwriting. His insights are poetic shortcuts. He captures the essence of a track in a single, vivid metaphor where a traditional reviewer would take three pages.
The book is chaotic and structured all at once, with clear intention. Dylan jumps from rockabilly to punk, and from country to soul, without a care for chronological order. He uses the songs as launching pads for brief, wildly entertaining rants on modern life, bluegrass, marriage, and the loss of the human touch in digital recording. He cares about music, and the book is a deeply personal curation. The omissions are just as loud as the inclusions, revealing the specific, roots-heavy landscape that feeds Dylan’s own creativity.
Given all this, Dylan is not without commentary on modern media:
Turns out, the best way to shut people up isn’t to take away their forum – it’s to give them all their own separate pulpits. Ultimately most folks will listen to what they already know and read what they already agree with. They will devour pale retreads of the familiar and perhaps never get to discover they might have a taste for Shakespeare or flamenco dancing. It’s the equivalent of letting an eight-year-old pick their own diet.
The Philosophy of Modern Song is a vital addition to Dylan’s body of work. It is an essential read for anyone who wants to understand how America’s greatest songwriter listens to music. It proves that even in his eighties, Bob Dylan remains the coolest, most unpredictable voice in American letters.
The Philosophy of Modern Song by Bob Dylan, 2022, Simon & Schuster
Trains in these parts went from East to West, and from West to East… On either side of the railway lines lay the great wide spaces of the desert—Sary-Ozeki, the Middle lands of the yellow steppes.
In these parts any distance was measured in relation to the railway, as if from the Greenwich meridian…
And the trains went from East to West, and from West to East…
The Day Lasts More than a Hundred Years by Chingiz Aitmatov is set in an alternate timeline where the United States and Soviet Union have formed a working alliance and joint space program called Demiurgos. From their base in the ocean exactly halfway between San Francisco and Vladivostok, Demiurgos monitors the exploratory ship they have sent to space with two astronauts—one American, one Soviet.
Yedige is an aging rail worker in a middle-of-the-steppe town in Kazakhstan. Demiurgos means nothing to him, since it has nothing to do with his land, his people, his camel, or his work. His village has only a handful of people left, as the young leave to find a better life. He understands, no one would choose his life, his work, his home. Still, he stays, and he takes things as they come.
There’s only one man that has been there longer than him, Kazangap, and his death opens the novel. Yedige has owed much to this elder, and insists on a traditional funeral—which includes carrying Kazangap’s body to the region’s ancestral cemetery.
The vast steppe and strong camel make Yedige thoughtful and in his mind the past and present collide. Outside his mind, outside the steppe, outside the world, the Soviet and American astronauts have disappeared from their ship.
I thought the two narrative lines would never intertwine—until they did in the most magnificent way. I hung on every word. Beautiful and desolate.
Aitmatov, Chingiz. The Day Lasts More Than a Hundred Years. Translated by John French. Indiana University Press,1983.
My personal collection of books isn’t very big, just filling two shelves. The genres vary, with some books being more recent finds and others being books I’ve had for most of my life. This book falls into that latter category. Fairy Dust and the Quest for the Egg by Gail Carson Levine was one of my favorite books as a young girl who loved fairies. The illustrations by David Christiana are absolutely magical, the bright colors and soft quality really draws the reader into the world of Never Land, with new illustrations every few pages and some full spreads placed in between chapters.
The book itself is the first in what became the Disney Fairies series, of which I’ve also kept several from my childhood collection, though this one stands above the rest with it’s hardback print and larger pages, leaving more room for the illustrations to shine. These books are eventually what became the Disney Fairies movie series as well.
The premise takes Tinkerbell from Peter Pan, and places her into the world of Pixie Hollow where every fairy is meant to have a talent. There are nature fairies who are good with plants, water fairies who can manipulate water, fast-flying fairies who are quicker than the others… the list goes on. “Fairy Dust and the Quest for the Egg” follows brand-new fairy Prilla who doesn’t know what her talent is, but must join a mission to save the Never egg while finding out her place in the world. It’s a fun read that’s got emotional beats and an interesting look into the world of Disney Fairies.
Fairy Dust and the Quest for the Eggby Gail Carson Levine, 2005, Disney Press
If summertime travel is in your future, you could enjoy some small talk with an outgoing stranger while on your way to your destination—and what would be the harm in that? Well, Patricia Highsmith is happy to remind you, behind that charming face, there could be more than just a hot mess who seems to want to “share” the armrest. They might also want to “share” some murder.
Highsmith’s novels have been made into many enjoyable, uncomfortable movies and shows—the character of Tom Ripley alone has attracted several adaptations. Strangers on a Train was her first published novel, and was made into a movie by Alfred Hitchcock a year later, and remains a wonderful cautionary tale about how a little bit of weakness can be exploited to completely ruin someone’s life. Both Hitchcock and Highsmith were equal-opportunity haters, and their loathing extended to their own identities. This most famous movie adaptation of the novel does change some things—it takes advantage of the architecture of Washington, DC, for one thing, to provide stark contrasts. In the book, our “hero,” Guy, is an architect, not a tennis player; on film, his athleticism is an obvious attraction for the stranger on the train. On the page, Guy knows he can build a life he knows he should want, but the structure cannot hold on shaky ground.
Somehow, the novel is even less generous towards the female characters, if you can believe it; but Highsmith had a low opinion of everyone, after all–especially those she knew she was not supposed to like as much as did. Cold war paranoia combines with the darkness before one of the dawns of society’s acceptance of diversities, and shows how living in the shadows can be dangerous and damaging to our perspectives of what we are willing to accept in others, and in ourselves. A quick read, and a story you might be familiar with from the movie, Strangers on a Train will remind you how much you can lose as a person, and as a member of society. Thank goodness humanity got all this sorted out since then, right?
Highsmith, Patricia. Strangers on a Train. Penguin, 1950.
The best review for any book is when it makes you laugh out loud. This one delivers. Like David’s other audio books, The Land and Its People is a collection of recorded readings in front of live audiences.
The shared laughter is a bonus if not a balm. I was very grateful that this book’s release date was less than a week after the final episode of the Late Show, as it helped ease that loss.
One of the essays in this book published earlier in the New Yorker revealed that David and his longtime boyfriend Hugh Hamrick were secretly married in 2016. He didn’t even share this news with his family and revealed it was at his banker’s recommendation for financial reasons. Another essay features Hugh preparing for hip replacement surgery. With the upcoming Christmas holiday and David’s lack of culinary skills, how would Hugh be able to prepare his usual feast of two entrees and various side dishes to accommodate everyone’s dietary requirements? Could Hugh cook from a wheelchair if he couldn’t recover fast enough?
As a Sedaris fan I have added listening to David’s Santaland Diaries, broadcast every Christmas on NPR, to my holiday traditions. I’ve also been fortunate enough to see David read his essays in person a couple of times and the crowd is an inimitable community. The last time I saw him, my seat mate said I looked familiar. After a few unsuccessful guesses at our connection, she said, “justgive me your phone” so we could become Facebook friends, and then it all became clear.
What I love most about David are his conversations with people, real or imagined. He sometimes mirrors my own thoughts and I can’t decide if that’s a good thing or not. David and Hugh’s rants and reactions to missed flights or a friend whose house rules don’t allow cell phone use on the first floor are hilarious. Our shared humanity is easier to laugh at when it happens to someone else. If you’d like to sample something by Sedaris, click here for several free essays and short stories. The world might need another Sedarian.
The Land and Its People: Essays by David Sedaris, 2026, Little, Brown & Company
Welcome, Crawler. You have been designated Crawler #4,122,” Carl”. You are assigned the race of Human. You are currently level 1.
New achievement! You’ve entered the World Dungeon.
Reward: None! Haha. You are so dead.
Meet Carl, he’s recently found himself in a bit of a situation… and while this may be some kind of wild fever dream, the consequences seem all too real. As aliens have taken over Earth and subsequently destroyed all surface structures in a matter of moments, everyone that survived the collapse is given the choice to enter stairways down to the “World Dungeon”. A bit ominous, but if you were standing outside in the freezing cold with nothing but your boxers, a leather jacket, and a pack of cigarettes to your name, you’d probably enter the stairwell too. What ensues is a witty, irreverent story of survival and friendship, as former coast guard mechanic Carl, and his ex-girlfriend’s cat, Princess Donut, become the unwilling participants in a deadly game. It’s like if Running Man was orchestrated by Aliens, and all of Earths survivors were now the entertainment for entire galaxies. With the entire game being supervised and facilitated by an AI that just might have a bit of a foot fetish. At times devastatingly funny, and at others poignant, this action packed story will leave you immediately putting the next book on your holds list.
Part Dungeons and Dragons, Hunger Games, and Ready Player One, this epic tale is just the beginning. Dungeon Crawler Carl is book one in Matt Dinniman’s series of (so far) eight novels.
Dinniman, Matt. Dungeon Crawler Carl: A Novel. Crown. 2024.
Commonly listed among suggested readings for America250, David McCullough’s 1776 is a history of the American Revolution focused on the pivotal year identified in the book’s title – the year of the Declaration of Independence, when the outcome of the struggle depended largely on military success. While the book is a military history, it is also a study of leadership, perseverance, devotion, and commitment to the cause of independence.
McCullough’s research draws upon both American and British archival sources. Letters, journals, and other contemporary records tell the human story through the experiences and observations of participants on both sides of the conflict. On the American side were farmers, teachers, laborers, and others, young and old alike, drawn into the struggle for independence.
1776 recounts the many hardships and missteps that preceded the Revolution’s eventual success. In late 1775, Britain prepared to crush the rebellion by sending additional troops, including well-trained and experienced Hessian mercenaries. At the same time, George Washington assumed command of the Continental Army, inheriting a force that was ill-equipped and largely unprepared.
Central to the book’s narrative is the leadership of George Washington. Much of what is commonly remembered about Washington involves his heroism and military accomplishments. McCullough does not portray him as flawless. Washington began his command with limited military experience, occasional uncertainty, and some notable mistakes. McCullough emphasizes his dignity, intelligence, perseverance, and ability to inspire confidence in others.
American soldiers faced significant disadvantages compared with the well-supported and formidable British military. The hardships were severe with hunger, disease, expiring enlistments, and frequent desertions. Critical supplies were lacking, clothing and food were often inadequate, training was inconsistent, and pay was unreliable. Morale was a persistent challenge.
Despite these overwhelming obstacles, and despite major defeats in New York and New Jersey, Washington’s army endured. Through determination, adaptability, and several important successes, the revolutionary forces continued the fight that would ultimately lead to British defeat. As McCullough observes, the Revolution survived because Washington refused to surrender.
Although Washington is the dominant figure, McCullough also profiles others who performed significant roles in the fight for independence, as well as key leaders among the British forces. Notable are Henry Knox and Nathanael Greene, whose intelligence, determination, and leadership McCullough’s recognizes. Their contributions, along with those of many other participants, reinforce one of the book’s central themes: that the Revolution’s success depended not only on great leaders but also on the perseverance and sacrifice of many individuals committed to the cause of independence.
Other notable David McCullough American history books for America250 reading and bookdiscussions include John Adams, The American Spirit, and The Pioneers.
Visitors to the Louvre often have very polarizing impressions. Some immediately fall in love, and treasure the experience. Others feel rushed. Overwhelmed by the crowds and expansive collection, visitors may leave disappointed. In Adventures in the Louvre: How to Fall in Love with the World’s Greatest Museum, Elaine Sciolino explores the Louvre’s more than 200-year history, and dives into the stories of the art, the caretakers, and the complex issues surrounding this massive museum collection. As an experienced journalist, Sciolino knows how to find and tell compelling stories, uncovering intriguing and personal stories from the people who have unrivaled behind-the-scenes access, including curators, gardeners, window washers, and firefighters. Sciolino also delves into topics the Louvre and many museums face, including ethical questions surrounding ownership, acquisition, and representation. A delightful and thought-provoking read for museum lovers, even stanch Louvre detractors will likely find interest in learning more about its history and the complex issues facing the Louvre today.
Sciolino takes readers behind-the-scenes to reveal the inner workings of this massive institution, and the people that run it. Did you know that the Louvre has a particle accelerator used to identify the composition and provenance of artwork? Have you ever thought about how they clean the glass in the Louvre Pyramid? Spoiler: it involves a Swiss robot named Gecko. These are interesting stories on their own, but the interviews with museum workers are particularly moving. Window cleaners or members of the fire brigade may not have started their careers with a love of art, but they thoughtfully describe the personal connections they have made through their work.
“Even if you don’t really know the sculptures and paintings, you are carried away by the architecture itself. Like you are alone in the world, traveling through these huge rooms. It’s really this feeling of being really small in an absolutely immense world.”
The most meaningful moments many museum workers describe take place in quiet contemplation. Due to the museum’s popularity, the average person visiting the Louvre fights crowds instead of finding contemplative spaces. Sciolino explores the challenges visitors face when viewing the Mona Lisa. One curator put it this way: “She is made for contemplation. For dialogue. To appreciate her, you must be alone with her. To look at her face to face as I look at you. . . We can’t see her because she is hung way too high and way too far away. . . Sad to say, but for reasons of security and climate control, we have to keep her that way. There is also her coloring, she is bathed in muted tones and unrestored, and must co-exist with the bright-colored, restored finishing paintings that hang nearby. . . Finally, there is the long wait. It takes a long time to approach her. . . and then you see her, very small and in the distance, and you never really see her well, and so she may seem trivial.”
So how can museums like the Louvre create any meaningful experiences for visitors if they are the victim of their own success? Due to politics and the resistance to change, the Mona Lisa experience is unlikely to change anytime soon, but Sciolino explores a little-known way that visitors can see original artwork from storage up close and personal. She also looks at how the Louvre’s branch museum in Lens is doing things differently to engage its local audience in a former coal mining region. Outreach and creating community spaces are major parts of their mission. But then there is also the Louvre Abu Dhabi, a museum created through a thirty-year licensing agreement and partnership between France and the UAE. Sciolino explores the museum’s successes and controversies, and examines accessibility issues for the UAE’s large population of immigrant workers.
The book also explores many ethical challenges the museum faces including representation, ownership controversies, and acquisition issues. The Louvre, for example, possesses fragments of the Parthenon and looted sites from other countries. Other chapters explore gender, race, and religion. Sciolino discusses where representation is lacking, and ponders that if excellence in our world today means that you engage your audience, “Who is the Louvre for? How have ethnic groups like people of color been excluded and what steps are being taken to include them? How can the museum be a place of empathy? Of emotional connections?”
These are just a few of the topics explored in this expansive look at the Louvre. I thoroughly enjoyed listening to it as an audiobook, but Adventures in the Louve is also available as an eBook in Nebraska Overdrive.
Elaine Sciolino has had a long career as a journalist, and is a contributing writer for The New York Times. She joined the Times in 1984, where she has held positions including chief diplomatic correspondent, United Nations’ bureau chief, CIA correspondent, and Paris bureau chief. She is also the author of The Seine: The River That Made Paris and The Only Street in Paris: Life on the Rue des Martyrs.
Adventures at the Louvre: How to Fall in Love with the World’s Greatest Museum,by Elaine Sciolino, 2026, W.W. Norton & Company.
