The Simp is the story of Raj, an actor who lands a job as an assistant to Jim and Anna H—, a high-powered Hollywood director and his young wife. The problem is that Raj’s entire persona is based on lies. He rarely shows his true self and forces the reader to grapple with questions related to representation, identity politics, and cancel culture. Raj is trying to make a name for himself in an industry that doesn’t have space for him. Anna is trying to write her screenplay and establish her talent. Jim is trying to hold on to his influence and refers to Raj as a simp, someone “who is too eager to please.” The real question is why is Raj so eager to please, and what does that say about power? Each character in this novel could be a study on identity and power as they all navigate tensions related to race, gender, sexuality, and social class.
I enjoyed Sethi’s clever, satirical style, and I highly recommend The Simp.
Thank you to NetGalley and Simon & Shuster for the ARC.
From the moment ChatGPT was released, I immediately tried to understand Large Language Models and how they would impact me as an educator. I was probably the first person in my school district to deliver professional development on AI, and I thought it was most important to focus on how it works and its possible implications for the classroom, including research, the credibility of online information, and student cheating/plagiarism. My stance has been, “This is fascinating technology, but maybe we should proceed with caution.”
Trying to sort through the AI hype has been frustrating at times, so I’ve been reading as much as I can to make sure I have the information I need to make informed choices as an educator and consumer. The Reverse Centaur’s Guide to Life After AI: How to Think About Artificial Intelligence–Before It’s Too Late by Cory Doctorow is an extremely valuable addition to that reading list. What stands out most is how Doctorow explains complex concepts, such as the economics of the current AI bubble and the role copyright plays in LLM training and outputs, in a straightforward, easily comprehensible manner. He also dispels the “AI inevitableism” that has always frustrated me. One of the major themes running through this book is that AI tools are products made by companies that may or may not endure, especially if/when the AI bubble bursts, and that we have the power to influence the direction AI takes. Doctorow offers numerous examples of situations in which AI failed to live up to the hype, while acknowledging areas where AI is actually helpful and not necessarily damaging to the environment. The key, according to Doctorow, is ensuring that we are Centaurs, people who are assisted by AI, and that we retain our autonomy over when and how we use it as opposed to the “Reverse Centaur” who is an assistant to the machine. While I don’t agree with everything in this book (it will take a lot to convince me that AI therapy could ever be a good thing), I think Doctorow’s insight and explanations are extremely valuable, and I recommend this to anyone who wants to learn more about the issues surrounding AI.
Thank you to Libro.fm for an advance listening copy of the audiobook and to NetGalley for an ARC of the ebook. I have to say that I preferred the audiobook because Doctorow narrated it himself. His reading conveyed the tone in a way that did not come across in the printed text.
John of John by Douglas Stuart follows John-Calum (Cal) as he returns home after graduating from art school and struggles to fit back into his father’s conservative religious expectations. As the novel unfolds, the point of view shifts and readers gain insight into a variety of other characters’ perspectives as they, like Cal, determine which parts of their stories and identities to share. I don’t want to write too much about specific characters or plot details because I knew very little about this book when I started, and I think that’s one reason I was so engaged. The structure of the novel is extremely well crafted and layered, and the writing is gorgeous. If possible, avoid spoilers!
It has been a long time since a work of fiction has stuck with me like John of John. I cannot recommend this enough!
Thank you to NetGalley and Grove Atlantic for the ARC.
The Violence: My Family’s Colombian War by Adriana E. Ramírez is an account of Colombia’s history beginning with the assassination of Jorge Eliécer Gaitán in 1948, which started La Violencia, a period of brutal conflict and oppression of rural and working-class people. At the center of the book is Ramírez’s grandmother, Esther, a powerful woman who navigated political violence, spiritual, emotional violence as she tried to keep her integrity and her family’s land and assets in the face of increasing political turmoil and guerilla warfare.
Woven through Esther’s story are moments that stress the importance of understanding the past: “A Colombian aphorism says that to understand tomorrow, you need to make sense of yesterday. Like a long line of dominoes, one moment in time topples another, which topples another, until soon nothing stands.” As Ramírez writes to make sense of her family’s yesterdays and grapples with the impact of her grandparents’ choices, readers will see parallels to the issues we are all facing today, both personal and political, as well as the burden placed on those who recognize history’s patterns: “And we students of history, we men of God and revolution, saw it all coming but we were called radicals and expelled from our pulpits.”
The Violence: My Family’s Colombian War operates on two levels. One is the story of Colombia and the other is a story of a family and community. Both are torn apart by various forms of violence and are still grappling with how to heal and how (or even whether) to forgive. At the center is Ramírez’s grandmother, Esther, who finds ways to maintain her strength and dignity while surrounded by political conflict and personal betrayal.
I found this book engaging and thought provoking. I saw so many parallels between both Esther’s personal conflicts and Colombia’s political conflicts with what we see in the world today. I highly recommend this book!
Paradiso 17 by Hannah Lillith Assadi traces the journey of Sufien after his family is displaced from Palestine. The novel, based on the life of the author’s father, asks readers to consider the idea of home as Sufien grapples with life away from his home in Palestine and journeys through Kuwait, Italy, and finally the United States. Even though he was young in 1948 when his family was forced out during the Nakba, he still feels a deep connection to his homeland and struggles to feel a sense of belonging elsewhere.
We know from the beginning that Sufien is dying, and Assadi deftly weaves together his reflections on his life’s journey with Palestinian history, as Sufien tries to make peace with his choices and attempts to find solace in his relationships. As I think about Paradiso 17, I keep coming back to the idea of searching and that so many people fail to find satisfaction because they want more than they have or want to recapture moments that have passed. At one point, Sufien asks, “Why is it we always realize how much we will miss a place on the eve of leaving it?” And he still leaves. He still searches. Ultimately, he must reconcile his hopes with his reality, deciding if the choices he made were worth the costs..
This is a book that will stay with me. It is beautifully written and tells an important story. I can’t recommend it enough.
Black. Single. Mother. by Jamilah Lemieux begins as a memoir of Black single motherhood then expands into a meticulously researched disruption of racist and sexist stereotypes. Her story and the stories of the other Black single mothers she includes show that single motherhood is not to be looked down upon and that when socio-economic factors are controlled, children of single mothers are no less likely to thrive than children who grow up in households with both parents. She also challenges the notion that Black fathers are prone to absenteeism by citing research that shows that “Black fathers . . . are reported to be more active in the care of their children than dads of other races.” Because Lemieux weaves her research into her story, I found it to be more powerful than other texts I’ve read that address similar issues. It’s much easier to disrupt biases and reframe understandings when confronted with personal stories that humanize data.
In Black. Single. Mother., Lemieux provides a method for unlearning deeply ingrained societal biases. This is essential reading for anyone committed to understanding the intersection of race, gender, and family in America.
Thank you to NetGalley and Random House for the ARC.
This year was rough. I went into it thinking that it couldn’t possibly be worse than 2024, but even though what made 2024 so difficult ended positively, 2025 completely unraveled. I hit a wall. I had to make changes. And now, looking back, I’m impressed with how far I’ve come. My favorite books tell the story.
The biggest change I made was professional. By February, I knew that this would be my last year in the classroom, but I didn’t know where I could go. I knew I didn’t want to leave education, and I didn’t want to leave my school district, but I didn’t see many options. Then my district created Instructional Coaching positions. I called a former colleague who became an Instructional Coach, and she sold me on applying for the position. (I had no idea that she does consulting for Jim Knight’s Instructional Coaching Group and would eventually become our trainer.) I gave the interview process my all and was offered the position of ELA Instructional Coach! I love the job, and I adore my new colleagues, but it has been a difficult transition to say the least.
Which brings me to my fiction favorites. Most of these are rereads due to teacher book chats (Beloved), classroom teaching (The Kite Runner), and new releases (The Legendborn Cycle). In November, I decided that I needed to reread the St. Mary’s Chronicles (for the fourth time) because I was craving something familiar. This made much more sense after seeing a post online about people in middle age feeling angsty when old traditions are no longer possible and there aren’t new traditions to replace them. When I saw that, something clicked. Even though I love my new job and I have no regrets, I spent twenty-five years (almost my entire adult life) as a high school English teacher and it has completely destabilized my life. I’ve been struggling to adjust. I’ll settle in eventually, but it’s going to take some time. I need to focus on building new traditions to replace the old.
Thanks to The Sealey Challenge, I read a lot of great poetry this year. Reading Nikki Giovanni was bittersweet. She’s always been one of my favorite poets, and I don’t think I’ll ever get over her death.
It was difficult to narrow down my nonfiction list because I gave twenty-two books five stars. Since I spent time reading about similar subjects, I selected the best from each topic.
I didn’t complete a single reading challenge, and my chapter a day plan fizzled out, but I’m not unhappy with my reading life this year. I’m learning what does and doesn’t work for me at this stage in my life, and I’ve joined some new book clubs to motivate me and push me to read out of my comfort zone. My reading plan for 2026 is to slow down, start reading through my nonfiction shelves, and not fall behind on writing reviews for the ARCs I receive.
2025 has been rough, and I wanted my final book to be one that would put me in the right mindset as I enter 2026.
The People’s Project: Poems, Essays, and Art for Looking Forward curated by Saeed Jones and Maggie Smith (two of my favorite writers) “is a community as a book.” The voices it captures show how to persevere, show up for each other, and find joy even in the darkest times. Maggie Smith, in “My Own Project 2025,” reminds us that the future hasn’t been written yet, and we hold the pen: “Together we are living our way into the record. We are writing the story every day, all of us, and we have the power to change it.” In “An Education,” Eula Biss looks back to Vichy France and reminds us that “[t]he resistance wasn’t singular or centralized. It wasn’t a unified left–it was a collection of resistances . . . . These resistances didn’t share the same mission, or the same motives, but they served the same cause.” She assures us that showing up now looks different for everyone and that we all have a role to play. We don’t always have to agree, but we need to focus on fighting for liberation and justice. In the poem, “Time of War,” Danez Smith writes:
so left to chaos
i become the rain
and find my center
reroute the storm
to my will.
A strong reminder to focus on what we can control and never give into despair, because as Alexander Chee writes, “Let’s all stay alive and celebrate on the other side.”
By the end of this collection, I felt ready for whatever may come, and was reminded that I need to focus on strength and finding joy. I highly recommend this collection for anyone who needs some fortification, beauty, and hope as they usher in the new year.
In her latest collection, How About Now, Kate Baer confronts the tension she faces as she grapples with middle age. While the poems in this collection are deeply personal and often showcase raw vulnerability, they mirror what many women face during this stage of life (including me). Baer captures the reality of navigating relationships with family, friends, and oneself highlighting the need to step back and see the bigger picture when times are tense, while basking in the comfort of and taking joy in those relationships in times of need or peace. She also stresses the importance of appreciating each moment, and in “Meanwhile” calls on us (in a snarky way) to put down our phones. (I felt attacked.)
Ultimately, How About Now reads like a reflection (or maybe a memoir in poems) on the process of living. We are a product of our pasts, but that does not need to define us. We can let go of the distractions, focus on loving ourselves, our environment, and the people around us. The collection begins by stating, “The problem is the new life costs you the old one” and the rest of the collection shows that change, growth, and love are worth it. As Baer states in the acknowledgements, “Finally, to anyone holding this collection in your hands, wondering if there’s enough time for you: I wrote this with you in mind. You’re still here. It’s not too late. How about now?”
This is the energy I’m bringing with me into the new year.
This year has been rough, and even though I’ve been reading, I haven’t had the energy or desire to post. I do want to acknowledge that I completed my goal of reading at least one book on each of my fiction/memoir bookshelves. It only took two years, which is depressing considering that I’ve read over 400 books in those two years and I only have 38 shelves. I figured this would go quickly. Why is it so hard to read books I already own?
Here’s the stack representing the final shelves. It’s a little blurry, but I feel like that’s appropriate considering how messy my life has been lately. (More on that later. It’s not bad.)
