History Lessons

History Lessons (2025) by Zoe B. Wallbrook, 373 pgs. 

Daphne Ouverture does not like drama. In fact, she consciously and consistently avoids it, hence her career decision to become a professor at a small-town university. As one of the few Black scholars of history in the area, she thinks it is best to keep her head down and avoid any unwanted attention. After receiving an out-of-the-blue text from a coworker one evening, Daphne's drama-free streak comes to a screeching halt. All of a sudden, the junior professor is involved in a murder case and an investigation into on-campus abuses of power. It is time for Daphne to face the drama and put an end to this plot before she loses her job, or worse...her life. 

This campy mystery novel is very much defined by its setting in academia. Zoe B. Wallbrook has an expansive vocabulary, and you will likely learn a few new words while reading. Despite that, the story is very accessible, and Daphne is a really likeable character. You can't help but root for this nerdy junior professor (and kind of secret spy) who is suddenly dealt the craziest scenario. Somehow, though, Wallbrook is able to balance some of the more silly aspects of the plot with all-too-real observations about the problems that exist in spaces of higher education (likely that she has noticed in her experience as a recently tenured professor). Daphne is constantly dealing with racist microaggressions and misogyny; staff members abuse their power over young students and untenured professors. If you are looking for a mystery novel with a strong voice that is set in the toxic world of university politics, this is the book for you.

The Deep

 The Deep by Rivers Solomon, 166 pages.

This novella, based on a song of the same name, follows a society living far below the waves, made up of the descendants of pregnant women thrown off of slave ships. The Wajinru are a people who live in the moment, free of their own traumatic origins; all save the historian, who holds the memory of their whole people. The current historian, Yetu, is being destroyed by the weight of the memories, and her desperation will cause a reckoning for her whole people. 

The audiobook for this book is read by Daveed Diggs, who is also part of the group that wrote the song it is based on, which was itself inspired by earlier work by a group called Drexciya. I believe it is this collaborative history that helps lend quite a lot of depth and complexity to a fairly short book. The plot is sometimes a little difficult to follow (which may have been made worse for me by the audiobook format), but the ideas are compelling enough to make it definitely worthwhile nonetheless. 

As an aside, this was the first time I had heard Daveed Diggs' voice since I was very into the musical Hamilton many years ago, which was a slightly uncanny experience. 

The Anthropocene Reviewed

 The Anthropocene Reviewed by John Green, 304 pages

In the introduction to this book John Green quotes Allegra Goodman, who says that she is writing her own life story but "since (she's) a novelist, it's all in code." Green says that he didn't want to write in code anymore, and the resulting first foray into nonfiction is both startlingly honest and completely unusual. The book is made up of dozens of "reviews" on a 1-5 scale from things as specific as "The Nathan's Famous Hot Dog Eating Contest" and as general as "Sunsets." The reviews tend to be one part microhistory, one part memoir, and one part broader cultural context. Even essays about timeless phenomena (Sycamore Trees, Canada Geese) are processed through the lens of the modern day and living on what has inarguably become a human-centric planet. 

While all of this is true, it is still difficult to describe what exactly this book is. I listened to the audiobook, which is read by the author, and I don't think I can count the number of times it brought tears to my eyes. Green is utterly sincere about not only his fear, but also his hope, and it is difficult not to feel some of the ache of the words for myself. This is a fairly short book that I feel richer for having read, and I believe there is something in it for anyone living in the world today.

Death on the Island

 

Death on the Island by Eliza Reid (2025), 336 pages

I really wanted to like this book. I read Kara's review and thought, "I like Nordic Noir - I'll give it a read." Unfortunately, I found it to be on the level Murder She Wrote. This is not an insult as I like Murder She Wrote, but the TV show level writing is perfect for MSW, not for Death on the Island. I kept hearing Jessica Fletcher's voice every time the protagonist, Jane, spoke. The supporting cast felt like that - a supporting cast. It was so hard to connect with anyone as all the characters seemed performative and caricatures of various tropes. There are so many great Nordic Noir's out there, I suggest reading one of them. 

Salt Bones

 

Salt Bones by Jennifer Givhan (2025), 384 pages

In a border town in California of Latina and Indigenous culture, Mal works to survive raising two children while dealing with the past trauma of her sister going missing. Things come to a head when another young woman disappears and then Mal's own daughter vanishes. Combining elements of Mexican folklore and the very real reality of missing Indigenous girls, Givhan delivers a story of a mother's determination coming face to face with those in power and entitlement. 

I enjoyed this book, but also found it frustrating. And I am not sure why. If you read it, let me know what you think.

The Score

 The Score: How to Stop Playing Somebody Else's Game, by C. Thi Nguyen, © 2026, 368 pgs.

Fascinating topic but was ultimately unsatisfying for me, despite a glowing blurb from Steve Wozniak on the cover. Nguyen, a philosophy professor, dives into his philosophy of games, breaking down scoring structures into a concept he calls "The Four Horsemen of Bureaucracy," which are Rules, Scale, Parts, and Control. These, he posits, are the key components in games but are also found in many disciplines in work and life. A basic example is the shoe cobbler versus a worker in a shoe factory. One is an artisan and craftsman, the other is a cog in a machine, doing a basic task in exchange for consistent work. Everyday we operate in a world of these kinds of rules in exchange for something for value, but with games it's different. When we play games, we operate in someone else's structure, but doing so creates a sense of 'play.' This sense makes a game fun--even if the game is not that good. Nguyen tacitly argues that we should approach other systems of control in a similar fashion--as a playground for ideas and learning. Ultimately, while there are a lot of good ideas here (and I think this is a great book for the non-philosophy-minded reader), Nguyen fails to land on a solid ending. What he really ends up doing is describing economics and the dangers of capitalism writ large. And even though the subtitle of the book is "how to stop playing someone else's game," he openly admits that he has no answer. I get what he's trying to say, but I wanted him to at least land on a conclusion, even if it was a challenging one. He was too indecisive, too afraid to tell the reader what to think, lest he be contributing to the same structures he's attempting to dismantle. Ending the book with a choose-your-own-adventure style ending only made it feel listless.

Moss'd in Space

Moss'd in Space by Rebecca Thorne, 368 pages

For years, Torian has been saving up her meager pay to buy a spaceship, which she plans on using to take her sister to a human planet where scientists can help cure her sister's chronic pulmonary condition. When she finally gets to buy a spaceship, it turns out the only one she can afford is an alien ship that's been hanging around the dock for a century, and is covered in moss. Still, she can work with that. But then she learns that the moss is actually an organic computer with abandonment issues and way more sarcasm than anyone Torian has ever met. Seems like an excellent setup for some problematic hijinks.

I absolutely loved Thorne's Tomes & Tea cozy fantasy series, and I'm thrilled that she's taking things into space (but keeping the pirates, because duh). Moss is an amazing character, Torian's just reckless enough, and all of the supporting characters are fantastic. I loved this series-starting science fiction, and I can't wait to read more of Torian and Moss's adventures.

*This book will be published July 7, 2026.

How to Get Away with Murder

How to Get Away with Murder by Rebecca Philipson, 368 pages

Detective Inspector Samantha Hansen is reluctant about going back to work following a traumatic experience more than six months ago. But when a teen girl is murdered in a park near Samantha's house, she's determined to help solve the crime. Complicating matters is of a "self-help" book called How to Get Away with Murder by a man going by the pseudonym Denver Brady that is found with the body. Brady professes to be a serial killer, and chapter by chapter, tells his readers how to kill and not get caught. Was the girl's murder another one of Brady's? Is it the work of a copycat? Or is the book's presence at the crime scene simply misdirection?

This was an intriguing premise, especially as Samantha's investigation is interspersed with chapters from Brady's book, and kept my interest through the bulk of the story. However, the end got a bit convoluted for my taste, and honestly, kept it from sticking in my brain for more than a week or so after reading it. OK, but nothing amazing.

Josephine Baker and Orlando

 Josephine Baker by José-Louis Bocquet with art by Catel (2017) 568 pages

I like that this writer/artist pair make hefty graphic bios. I previously read their graphic biography about Alice Guy. They are able to include so many details and episodes from Josephine's life. I've previously read the biography about Josephine's espionage work for the British and French Resistance during WWII. This graphic book provides a lot more depth about her early life and her work as an entertainer. The WWII period, by contrast, is quite brief. Her later life related to her raising the "Rainbow Tribe" of orphans was fascinating too. The biographical notes at the end on secondary historical figures that crossed paths with Josephine are extensive. In fact, I thought some did not need to be included, since they barely played a role in her story.

Orlando adapted by Susanne Kuhlendahl (2026) 224 pages

I really enjoyed Sally Potter's movie version of Orlando. And this is one of two graphic novel adaptations of Virginia Woolf's queer story coming out this year. I had not read any Woolf novels in school, so it is only through recent Wiki research that I learned Woolf is part of the Modernist literary movement with "stream of consciousness" passages. Kuhlendahl's adaptation definitely keeps this style front and center. However, instead of Orlando breaking the fourth wall like in the movie, Woolf, the "biographer," is present on the page and comments on being a biographer of this character. There is no scientific or magical explanation for how Orlando is able to live more than 300 years, nor for how Orlando transforms from a man into a woman. We are simply asked to ponder "what if" this is true. The story is episodic with changing art styles. It is full of commentary on gender, poetry, love and life, and changing fashions. I thought the chapter set in the Victorian 19th century was the weakest part and the finale set in the early 20th century (Woolf's era), while things truly move at a faster pace, still felt rushed after the depth of the earlier historical periods.

Midwives

Midwives by Chris Bohjalian (1997) 374 pages

Sibyl Danforth is a midwife, living and working in rural Vermont. When something goes terribly wrong during one of her deliveries, on a winter night when the roads have become impassable, she is accused of murder. It's a subject that's fraught with emotion, and is told from the point of view of Sibyl's 14-year-old daughter Connie, with snippets of Sibyl's own voice in journal entries at the beginning of most chapters.

I had never read Chris Bohjalian before, and was directed to this novel as a good place to start. Even though I knew the subject was difficult, when I read a few "test" pages, his writing pulled me in, with no backing away.