Books like The Emperor of Gladness

What stayed with me about The Kite Runner is its understanding of redemption.

You cannot change the past, and redemption does not undo the original harm. Forgiveness is not erasure. What happened still happened, and some of that weight remains. But knowing the truth and owning the harm can change the choices you make afterward. That distinction mattered to me.

Redemption is not pretending the past is gone or somehow balancing the scales perfectly. It is allowing what you now understand to change who you become and how you move forward. Few books I have read have explored guilt, forgiveness, and redemption with that kind of emotional honesty.

What stayed with me most was Morrie’s idea of detaching yourself from the fear surrounding a painful feeling so that you can actually experience it.

I have come to think of that as a kind of presence. It means allowing yourself to feel what is happening without immediately trying to escape it, fix it, or fear it. There is something powerful about simply being present in an ordinary moment and recognizing its value while you are still in it.

Tuesdays with Morrie reminded me that much of life happens in those ordinary moments, and we miss something important when we are too distracted or afraid to fully inhabit them.

Having grown up in South Africa, a former British colony, I've always had a soft spot for the British. Tea and scones, understated manners, and insistence on proper etiquette are all familiar.

So when Major Pettigrew appears in the opening pages, I recognized his quintessential Englishness immediately. His dazed grief after his wife’s death makes him all the more endearing. And when this very proper widower finds himself attracted to Mrs. Ali, the Pakistani shopkeeper in the English village, I was completely hooked.

Their relationship is an unlikely friendship that blossoms into love, and I was captivated by how he navigates the pull between his heart and the expectations and social codes of his world.

As the Brits might say, a thoroughly delightful read.

They say you should never judge a book by its cover, but when I saw this one, it was love at first sight: the blue waters, the orange octopus, and the little pink fish swimming along the yellow-sprayed page edges.

However, the story matches the promise of the cover. The friendship between a widow working the night shift at the aquarium and an incredibly smart octopus reminded me that connection can be found in the most unlikely places.

Van Pelt’s genius is how she uses the scientifically proven fact that octopuses are bright. In the story, Marcellus, the octopus, sees patterns, secrets, and emotional undercurrents the humans overlook. The octopus chapters work like a lens that reveals what people hide from themselves. It’s just brilliant.

As a kid, I loved this funny and frightening book about the terrible things that happen to bratty children (the same could be inferred for bratty octogenarians).

I’m sure my parents hoped these tales would encourage more reasonable behavior. Instead, these tales set me on a path to writing dark stories. In this case, the contrast of humor and the horrifying is addictive, and characters in any kind of book that combine these traits are always compelling.

The illustrations in the version published by John C. Winston Company are particularly quirky, increasing the impact of each story. This book probably had more influence on my book than I realized during the writing.

The title poem in this collection, (made from lines spoken by the poet’s mother,) manages to embody both caregiver and loved one as Constantine gives gentle structure to a string of seemingly disconnected utterances. Each poem in the book explores themes of loss, memory, and family through a different lens, creating an almost kaleidoscopic vision of the world. The collection is a rumination, a celebration, and a beautiful example of how poetry can expand our perspectives and teach us to speak and hear new rhythms.  

Drowse Draaisma is a memory specialist, and this lucid, eloquent and humorous book celebrates the rich and fruitful pleasures of memory in later life (and takes the sting out of the natural forgetfulness that comes as we grow older). It combines science, psychology, anecdotes, advice, and it is above all a work of spirit and optimism.  

Kate Tessler’s father and his retirement community coffee group come to her with a problem: their friend Larry's much younger wife claims her husband has dementia.

The group is convinced that Larry’s wife and her two adult, deadbeat kids are out to steal Larry’s money. But before they can authenticate the truth, their efforts are complicated when Larry is accused of committing a murder. Now they must prove Larry is both mentally competent and not a killer.

I love this saucy whodunit that came with the reminder that the term senior citizen doesn’t mean soft in the head. I cheered this fast-paced, witty cozy starring a gang of savvy seniors with humor, heart, and tenacity. Something Deadly on Desert Drive is perfect for fans of laugh-out-loud amateur detective stories who need no reminder that age is only a number.

Ann Campanella’s memoir details her journey through caregiving for her mother with Alzheimer’s at the same time she was struggling to start her own family. I felt it all: the anxiety, the frustration, as well as the pain, as she watched her mother decline while coping with an inability to conceive. Ann’s book reminded me to appreciate life’s joys, no matter how small, whether riding a beloved horse, marveling at a sunset, smelling a beautiful flower, or offering a simple hug. 

Janet Ramsey’s experiences as a chaplain, therapist, and family caregiver have taught her that people living with dementia deeply desire interactions with others that uphold their dignity and offer them love and forgiveness. She interviewed many dementia caregivers and throughout the book, she lets them express what dignity and grace mean in their everyday interactions with loved ones. Each chapter concludes with a reflection on a different Psalm, reflections that speak directly to the challenges and opportunities for growth that come with caregiving. Readers need not be Christian or in any way religious to appreciate the warmth and humanity conveyed throughout this book.