Summer 2026 Round-Up

What I read, wrote, and am reading and writing. My final year of school is about to begin. YIKES

Photo by Jongsun Lee on Unsplash

School is about to start.

My full-time, senior-year classes begin on August 24th.¹ My oldest child enters full-day kindergarten on August 31st. Though this change in our lives is not an unexpected one, the details of it remain hazy in my anticipation. I am embarking on the very end of my formal education² while my firstborn son is just starting his. That seems fitting in a way I can’t quite articulate. I’m reminded of this piece which I wrote just a few weeks before my second baby was born (over three weeks, actually! He was LATE) and how I felt knowing that our lives were going to tip and spill and come back up fuller and richer, but I didn’t yet know how.

At any rate, I am excited. But also nervous. Interestingly, my five-year-old feels the same way! We are student “brothers,” I guess, which is the descriptor my three-year-old gives to anyone who is embarking on the same activity as he, regardless of their familial affiliation. (Making dinner with me? Cooking brothers. Playing cars with his actual brother? Monster truck brothers. Sitting on his mini toilet while someone else uses the bathroom at the same time, because we live in a small house? Potty brothers.)

I won’t bore you with my thoughts on how quickly or slowly the summer went by. It was what it was. Here is what I did and what I recommend. (And here is my spring round-up if you missed that.)

What I Read In May-August (Books)

I read nineteen (19!) books this summer and I’m really proud of that accomplishment. Reading lists are not about numbers—quantity does not trump quality—but having read a robust number of books reflects on how I chose to spend my moments of free time, and since I’m trying to break the habit of reaching for my phone in those moments, I’m pretty happy with the hours of reading this list represents. Because of this, I’m choosing to highlight only a few of these books (and may write some longer reviews later. So many books so little time ET CETERA)

-The Calamity Club³ by Kathryn Stockett (3 stars)

I really enjoyed The Help, both before I understood a bit more about the cultural context and implications of a white author writing in this way about Black women’s experiences, and even after I became more educated about these things (though the writing was still good, I was more hesitant to recommend it). So I picked up The Calamity Club with curiosity and not a little trepidation, and it was… okay? I really enjoyed it while I was reading it, but when I was done, I felt let down. Gina Dalfonzo’s review manages to articulate exactly what I was struggling to put into words. I did not personally find it difficult to divorce my own personal feelings about prostitution from the reality of the poverty these women were forced to survive in, but I agree with Gina that the convenience of certain plot devices really undermined the struggle the characters were supposed to be facing.

-Prairie Lotus by Linda Sue Park (4 stars)

I grew up on Little House on the Prairie, and as I’ve finished/continued that process of growing up, I’ve come to look at the beloved series with a more critical eye. I am not one of those readers who advocates for completely trashing Little House—nor am I a big fan of the rewriting/whitewashing of historical ick, a la Netflix—but I am an enthusiastic proponent of not letting Laura Ingalls Wilder be the only window into the girlhood experience of American westward expansion. (Although, since the Prairie Lotus family actually travels from California to South Dakota, it’s technically eastward immigration.) Prairie Lotus is written for a middle-grade audience, yes, but this thirty-something thoroughly enjoyed it. (Good middle-grade fiction is for everyone, remember.) Hanna, the protagonist, is plucky and intelligent, making her own way as the biracial daughter of a Chinese mother and American father amid the rampant racism of 1880s Dakota Territory. Hanna dreams of being a dressmaker (a detail I loved!) but the recent loss of her mother has sent her and her father to start over in the tiny frontier town of La Forge. Hanna’s father’s way of dealing with grief is to be incredibly controlling and closed-off toward his daughter, which makes for a hard read at times but is, I think, very realistic. My major quibble with the book was the awkward way Native women were inserted into the story—it felt a little too storylike, if that makes sense, treating the Ikhantonwan women like convenient, benevolent plot devices. This is really the only thing that kept me from giving it five stars!

-The Great Wherever by Shannon Sanders, which I reviewed here

-Natural Disaster by Lisa Owens, which I reviewed here

-The House of My Mother by Shari Franke (3 stars)

I knew very little about the horrendous Ruby Franke child abuse case before picking up this novel; only that Ruby was a vlogger who was convicted of aggravated child abuse and sentenced to 30 years in prison. When I began reading this memoir, written by her oldest daughter, I started out thinking “wow, this isn’t so bad. Her mom seems a little strict, but abusive? Am I missing something?” Yes, I was missing the rest of the book. Do not judge by the first couple of chapters. A worthy lesson.

I feel kind of bad giving this read only three stars—it is a harrowing story and I’m not trying to rate Shari Franke’s personal experience in any way—but I had mixed feelings upon finishing it. I’m glad she found some catharsis in sharing what happened. I think some additional help from an editor might have been a good thing. And the speed with which this memoir was released gives me pause—not because I’m concerned that any of it is not true, but because people take time to process and to heal, and the way trauma becomes content creation so quickly, so often, disturbs me. (Not that I have a leg to stand on here because after all I did read the book.) Anyway, might need to shake out those thoughts more fully at a later date.

-The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion, volumes 1 through 4, by Beth Brower (5 stars)

Now, I cannot in good conscience wholeheartedly recommend this entire series, because I have not yet finished it. Luckily, my conscience is merely human, imperfect and fallible, so I shall do so anyway. I LOVE THESE BOOKS and I can’t believe I took so long to actually get into them! My sister gave me the first three for my birthday (back in March!) and after I finished those I jumped into the audiobooks (thank you, Libby). The first one dragged a tiny bit—I enjoyed it, but I wasn’t wowed—but the second one picked up splendidly. Emma M. Lion has returned after years away to her ancestral London home, Lapis Lazuli House, where she is butting heads with her eccentric relation Cousin Archibald, playing dutiful wingwoman to her beautiful cousin Arabella, and enduring the emotional pokes and prods of her pompous Aunt Eugenia. Money is tight, as Emma’s inheritance has been sort of embezzled by Cousin Archibald, and so she is forced to sublet a portion of Lapis Lazuli House to the mysterious photographer Mr. Pierce. Also there is a Duke. And a Curate. And a Rake. And a three-year-old tragedy, which despite the zaniness previously mentioned manages to be very touching and real.

Imagine if P.G. Wodehouse and L.M. Montgomery and Louisa May Alcott all got together in a Google Doc and made a mess of things, and then Jane Austen came along and edited the whole thing and made it messier, and better. I am only on book five, so NO SPOILERS, but at the moment I am Team Niall and will not be swayed.

-Chancla by Leslie Priscilla, which I reviewed in conjunction with Crystal-Lee Howley (and interviewed the author!) here

-Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir (3 stars)

I really wanted to like this book more than I did. I know a lot of people who greatly enjoyed it, and I didn’t hate it! I just found it to be not quite up to the hype. I was told by the friends who recommended it to “go in blind” and not read any synopses ahead of time. This made sense a year ago but now the movie is out and I think most people know it’s an outer space story, so I will say this: Ryland Grace is a science guy (but what kind? He’s not sure) who woke up from a coma on a giant spacecraft headed to the sun. As he figures out where he’s going and why, he’s also trying to remember who he is and what got him here in the first place. It’s a fascinating premise that winds its way to a fairly satisfying conclusion, but there is SO MUCH SCIENTIFIC EXPLANATION and listen, guys, I am not a STEM girly. I am a humanities girly and quite frankly all three of those stars I awarded are for the plot development because it takes a LOT for me to actually enjoy a sci-fi novel.

Rob and I listened to the audiobook together and this was both a pro and a con—the narrator does a great job (especially with the, uh, Eridian voiceovers) and kept it engaging, but we often listened in the evenings when we were so tired that I would fall asleep halfway into a chapter. It took us forever to finish and I do think I missed some stuff. The movie was better IMO, and I don’t say that often, nor lightly.

-Whistler by Ann Patchett (5 stars)

Ann Patchett is a prolific novelist but I’ve actually only read two of her other books before this one! Commonwealth is far and away my favorite of those two—The Dutch House was mostly redeemed by Tom Hanks narrating the audiobook. But Whistler leaves Commonwealth behind, for me at least. (All my book reviews must bear that caveat.) Whistler is that rare gem in literary fiction: a good story about good people. Not perfect people, in fact they do a great many things I wouldn’t recommend, and there are a lot of lies to untangle and secrets to uncover, but ultimately it is a story of the triumph of genuine human connection and family affection, and it made me feel good inside reading it, even when it dealt with some really sad subjects. I kept thinking something terrible or disturbing was going to happen because I guess I’ve been burned too many times by Serious Literary Novels which hinge their plot on betrayal and trauma but even though there are some flashbacks to some suspenseful and difficult events (tw: major car accident) there is nothing that made go ICK and want to fling the book down, if that makes sense. (I had to text a couple of bookish friends early on and ask if anything Untoward happened between the main character and her stepfather; that’s really not a spoiler. And it’s even less of a spoiler to say NO, nothing of the kind. Their attachment to each other is purely of the Wholesome and Supportive Familial variety.)

-Appraisals by Claire Boyle, review forthcoming later this week!

What I Read In May-August (Articles, Essays, Poems)

All the Perfect Moms are Rich by Taylor Schumann

Money may not buy literal happiness, but it buys a lot of things that help you create it. Financial security is associated with lower stress about housing, food costs, medical bills, and childcare. Money buys resources. Money buys childcare, it buys food, it buys housing and a house cleaner twice a month. It buys toys and tickets to the waterpark. It buys the good shoes and the good books and it buys you the time and energy to read those books to your kids at the end of a long day. Money, in many instances, buys peace. Money, in many instances, buys margin. And I don’t know a parent among us who wouldn’t be a better parent with a little more margin and a little less stress on their plate.

On a Family Camping Trip at Dusk by Anne Terashima

Every door in our basement
had a hole kicked through it. Maybe then,
with only a nylon zippered tent, no
concrete suburban walls, it makes sense
 
he’d disappear into wilderness
which expands and contracts as light
plays on trees, as breath. 

An Ode to Jeff Bezos and Free Verse by Shawn Smucker

and then I wondered if Jeff remembers
being little Jeff or Jeffrey or JP or whatever
name those who loved him called him,
and what it was like for him
as a child to step on a crisp spring morning
into a bookshop—does he remember?—
surrounded by all those
stories, the delight in finding something
new—has he forgotten?—being swept up
in another world yet again. They say
he loves books.

Let the Pie Drop by Amy Mantravadi

Sometimes another person’s very life depends on us enduring hardship. Our actions must be dictated by the unique circumstances of the situation. But when we are feeling overwhelmed, juggling metaphorical pies in our hands, it is right for us to ask, “Can I drop one of these pies?”

Stop Eating Lady Gaga’s Oreos by Adam Mastroianni

I have a problem with artists doing commerce under the guise of art. I listen, I read, and I watch because I want to inhabit, even if just for a moment, the mind of another human. I want to feel what it’s like to be them, and in so doing, I want to better understand what it’s like to be me. But if I journey to the center of someone’s psyche and all I find there is a billboard for Pizza Hut, I’m turning around. If your art is just one node in your business empire, if your albums are merely commercials for your cologne, if you’re trying to turn your first billion into your second billion, you are no longer an artist at all. You are a credit default swap with a discography attached.

The Seeds of Prairieland by Alexandra Edwards

Firewheel is often the first thing to color burned ground. You can scorch the surface of this land and it keeps what it needs underground, waiting.

The detention center sits on exactly that kind of ground. It’s called Prairieland—a fenced place named for the thing a fence can’t hold, built on a prairie that, left alone for a single season, would put up firewheel right to the wire.

What I Wrote in May-August

Control Your Child’s Behavior, But Not Like That for The Pomegranate

Erika Kirk and the Myth of Noble Poverty for The Pomegranate

How to Wrangle Two Kids and a Cart Full of Groceries in a Costco Bathroom While Your Life Flashes Before Your Eyes for The Pomegranate

Bluey is Not a Perfect Show (and that’s okay) with Hillary Moyer for The Pomegranate

Summer is Almost Over and You Blew It for The Pomegranate

A Tale of Two Cities Wasn’t Stupid. We Were for Dear, Strange Things

Okay, I almost exclusively wrote for The Pom this summer, lol. With the notable exception of the most recent guest post on re-reading the classics for Dear, Strange Things! That was a fun one, even though I spent an inordinate amount of time drafting it and then scrapping what I’d drafted and starting again because everything good in my mind was translating to Absolute Rubbish on the page. (I’m happy with it now.)

What I Am Currently Writing

I am writing a book about Jane Austen and the writing life. I have begun the tense and ignoble process of Querying my book proposal. Maybe someday soon I will be able to share a little more about it, but in the meantime, that little nugget of information shall have to suffice, like the Tailor of Gloucester’s taffeta.

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1. I am writing this piece over the weekend preceding my first day of the fall semester. By the time it lands in your inbox, I will have already started school.

2. unless I go to grad school, which… I’m not willing to rule out just yet, but it would be a little while before that would happen

3. As a Bookshop affiliate, I am eligible to receive a small commission if you choose to purchase any of these books using the links in this post, at no additional cost to you.