Books like The Weight of Snow and Regret

A slow, meticulous, ordered and incredibly enjoyable read. I loved all the characters, including the Metropol hotel itself. Count Alexander Rostov, destined to spend the rest of his life in the hotel, handles his situation with grace, style and some fun. The book is cleverly written with wit and detailed description. There is a hilariously perfect description of a dog and cat encounter, and an episode of juggling oranges and knives that had me chuckling, to name a few. The Count's relationship with the hotel staff, patrons, and long-term residents is well depicted. There are many heartwarming moments. I also loved how Russia's history is woven into the story.

This is a brilliantly written story about a complicated, contemporary woman, seen through her letters and emails. Sybil Van Antwerp is in her seventies and has been writing letters all her life. She is a hardworking, intelligent career woman; a friend, sister, mother and avid reader. Through her correspondence, we learn about those around her; her effect on them and their effect on her. I enjoyed all the characters; those with whom she corresponds, including well-known authors. (I loved that part). The sad reality is that she is losing her sight and may not be able to continue writing letters. She also has to come to grips with a past tragedy in order to move on. I loved this book; I could relate to Sybil. It will stay with me for a long time.

Before becoming a published writer, I was a lawyer litigating primarily large, multi-district environmental insurance coverage cases. I became familiar with the many ways by which we damage our precious natural resources, be it groundwater or soil or the air we breathe. Beginning with Rachel Carson, we have rich literature that speaks to the degradation of the planet, including the devastating changes wrought by global warming. The stories in this anthology speak to the physical and emotional topography of our current climate crisis, from a Sami woman who studies fish populations to a Wisconsin man contemplating the animals who make his trailer a portal to a world unsullied by humans. Fish & Water is a smart collection on a topic we ignore at our peril.

When the authors in Distant Flickers formed Telltale, a writers’ collective, we brainstormed ways to reach out to readers and give them insight as to how our life experiences are transformed into art. We decided to put together an anthology as part of our endeavor. In doing so, we researched how other writer collectives reached out to their readership. A number of us are historical fiction writers and/or members of the Womens Fiction Writers Association (WFWA), which is how we came to be acquainted with Paper Lanterns, the collective of historical fiction writers behind this anthology. The stories in Unlocked are works of historical fiction that revolve around the common element of an old wooden chest. The settings are varied and span seven centuries, from 1225 Ireland to 1679 Amsterdam to the American Civil War to Regency London to World War II to the Nineteen Seventies.

Sheila Kohler, a mentor of mine whose work is featured in this thrilling collection, is fond of saying that suspense arises from putting a vulnerable character in a dangerous situation. A literary writer of the highest caliber, Sheila knows how to generate the suspense that keeps the page turning. Crime fiction has a long history going back to Dostoevsky and beyond, to the great tragedians—the commission of a crime entails motive, means, and is inherently dramatic. This eclectic selection of mystery and female noir, edited by Joyce Carol Oates, features superstar writers like Edwidge Danticat, Margaret Atwood, Sheila Kohler, Elizabeth McCracken, and Joyce Carol Oates herself. The writing is luminous, the themes are varied—from domestic horror to the erotic to dark fairy tales—and the tales keep the reader turning the page.

The prevailing narrative regarding adoption, at least in the U.S., is crafted by adoption professionals and adoptive parents and largely overlooks the experiences of the parties directly impacted—the adoptees themselves. As an adoptee—one who undertook a search for and was reunited with my first family, reassuming the name I was given at birth—I am always on the lookout for the work of other adoptees. Only we truly understand what it is like to be “split” between two families, to lose our roots and culture, and—perhaps most devastating—not to have our losses acknowledged. These stories, by Ethiopian adoptees, challenge traditional narratives that cast adoption as a benevolent practice, revealing the racist, classist, and colonialist roots that give rise to the modern institution. The stories speak to themes of displacement, bewilderment, and what it is like to grow up estranged from one’s culture, identity, and roots.

As a writer, I am always pondering the question of how our lives inform our work. As one of my fellow writers, Melissa Ostrom, put it, our experience is the rich compost from which we form our fictional narratives. To use a Freudian dream analogy, I like to think that our lives are the “day residue” of the work—elements from daily life show up in different contexts or transformed in some other way. The twentieth-first century has witnessed an explosion of so-called auto-fiction, fiction that more consciously underscores this process of transforming life into art—think of the work of Ben Lerner, Rachel Cusk, and Karl Ove Knausgard. This recently-released anthology, edited by Caitlin Forst, features work by established writers as well as new voices that interrogates the relationship between writer and text, between art and life.

I love this poetic chronicle of three generations of an Iowa farm family, making a go of it for 125 years on the same farm, dating from the great-grandfather, a Civil War veteran, arriving for the first time on a newly-purchased farm. 

The lives of these folks and their neighbors were shaped by two world wars and the Great Depression, thriving through faith, love, self-reliance, and community.

This was my first eye-opening introduction to family history imaginatively shared through lyric poetry, prose poetry, and flash prose. 

Stories of women and men from Michigan to Illinois to the Netherlands, women dealing with infant mortality, vanity, housewife skills, divorce and other hidden stories, even a brave heroine saving a family's home. 

I found this collection of missing family members a beautiful remembrance through winsome details and photographs. 

An especially dear one called “To Write a Sermon” shows the author as a two-year-old with pencil and paper sitting next to her pastor father smoking a pipe and working on a sermon.