PERFECT TUNES by Emily Gould

Laura leaves her midwestern hometown after college for NYC to find success as a musician. It’s the late 90s and early aughts. With her roommate, Callie, they form the band, The Groupies. But, after a tragic accident and an unexpected pregnancy sideline Laura,  she must face the realization of her thwarted dreams. Motherhood and music, ambition and failure make up this heartfelt tale. 

Favorite line(s): The stage lights were sharp and perfect, so bright that they illuminated motes of dust buzzing around them, flecks of sweat bursting from the band as they strutted and thrashed. The floor was packed and writing, moving in waves pressing closer to the stage. Usually, Laura wasn’t into close contact with strangers, but this wasn’t like being on the subway. It was like being a cell in some larger organism, everyone joining together with the same aim in mind. It was just loud enough so that their bodies were enveloped in sound, just on the edge of discomfort, a vibration rattling up through everyone’s shoes, re-regulating their heartbeats and breathing so that everyone exhaled in time.

I CAME ALL THIS WAY TO MEET YOU: WRITING MYSELF HOME by Jami Attenberg

I’ve read several of Attenberg’s seven novels and follow her on social media. I even participated in her 1000 Words of Summer—where you are required to write 1000 words daily for two weeks. Writers are beholden to their own disciplined output, while online support from others in the program keeps you accountable. She writes a great craft newsletter with honest advice about the writing life adding examples from her process. Attenberg has traversed the country and through Europe on book tours. She’s seen it all. Heard it all. So who better to publish a memoir on the ups and downs of the writer’s life than someone who has given it everything? What does it take to devote oneself to art? She asks. And what does it feel like doing it solo? (Attenberg is not partnered and doesn’t have children.) Dissecting the craft is not her intention. Instead, she cheerleads for those willing to consider writing a life’s ambition. 

Favorite line(s): They just wanted to know: Were they good enough?.... And how do you explain that nearly no one is good enough, it has to do with how much work you put in, your diligence, your persistence, some fortune, some luck. And I suppose it has to be with your willingness to imagine things that aren’t there. They didn’t need me to give them permission to live their dreams. No one had ever given me permission to live mine. The better question to ask: What kind of stories should I be telling? What would I be willing to do to make it all work? What do I love about writing? What are the voices that need to be elevated from my world and from outside of my world? What secrets of mine would I be willing to tell? What do I know already? What do I need to learn? Is that a ghost in the shadows or just another person slipping into the night?

OUR MISSING HEARTS by Celeste Ng

Nobody better captures the suburban (or city) angst of coming-of-age narrators than Ng (pronounced ing). Her third novel is no different. Coming off the wildly successful Little Fires Everywhere (Reese’s book club selection as well as a Netflix series), Ng leads us into a future under the oppressive regime enforcing PACT (The Preserving American Culture and Traditions Act). A 12-year-old boy searches for his mother, an Asian-American poet who wrote Our Missing Hearts, which became the anthem for protests against PACT. Under the act, children can be taken from their parents who are deemed in defiance of American culture (read anything that’s not white and patriarchal). Libraries are forced to remove books labeled unpatriotic. Although set in an unknown future, the novel feels closer to the national movement of racial profiling, anti-immigration, and book banning currently happening. Ng’s novel is another wake-up call. Like Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid's Tale, depressing but important.

 Favorite line(s): It made perfect sense to him then; it still does. In all the stories his mother had told him, there was an ordeal the hero had to endure: Climb down this well and fetch the tinderbox. Lie beneath this waterfall and let it drum you to pieces. He was sure if he could stay awake his mother would be there. The fact that the test was so arbitrary did not both him; the tests they had in school were arbitrary did not bother him; the tests they had in school were arbitrary, too: circle the nouns and underline the verbs; combine these two random numbers into a third. Tests were always arbitrary; it was part of their nature and, in fact, what made them a test. Separate the peas and the lentils from the ashes before morning’s light. Journey beneath the sea and bring back the pearl that shines by night.