For breakfast I eat convenience store bread, for lunch I eat convenience store rice balls with something from the hot-food cabinet, and after work I'm often so tired I just buy something from the store and take it home for dinner. I drink about half the bottle of water while I'm at work, then put it in my ecobag and take it home with me to finish at night. When I think that my body is entirely made up of food from this store, I feel like I'm as much a part of the store as the magazine racks or the coffee machine.
Keiko Furukura has worked at the Hiiromachi Station Smile Mart since it opened eighteen years ago. What started out as a college job continued on well into adulthood, and Keiko is fine with that. She understands the convenience store. Not only is she good at the job, it's the first and only thing she's done that has made her feel like part of human society. But as 40 fast approaches, her family and peers express their disappointment and displeasure that she's never pursued a "real" job, married, or had children. Suddenly Keiko is facing pressure from all directions to do something—anything—other than the one thing she knows she does well.
Because here's the thing: Keiko has never understood human society, with its confusing unspoken rules and baffling distinction between right and wrong. She learned as a child that it was better for her to keep her head down and power through life causing as little commotion as possible. The convenience store has been her ticket to inclusion and acceptance by society so far, but now the rules have changed again and she worries she must find a way to appease the pressure towards marriage and kids now too.
Convenience Store Woman was originally published in Japan in 2016, and an English language translation was released two years later.
I fell in love with this book almost immediately. There's something about me that loves a slice-of-life style book, and it's always refreshing to experience life through the eyes of a character that isn't in a high-powered, self-important job. As someone who spent close to eight years as a cashier, first at a grocery store and then at a fast food restaurant, I completely related to Keiko's dreaming about work. I too have heard the sound of a scanner or a drive-thru alarm drone on repeat all night long. I've dreamed of customers queued up in my house, walking through my bedroom one at a time while I, bleary-eyed and sleepy, weighed their potatoes and scanned their cases of cheap light beer and collected their payment. I've felt the elation of realizing I understood the inner workings of the humming bee hive of activity around me. I've also felt the disappointment when I realized most people didn't consider what I did "real" work.
I enjoyed reading the perspective of someone like Keiko (who, while undiagnosed, seems autism and/or sociopathy-coded) who wasn't a serial killer or other sinister figure. Her quest to find a way to be useful to society while also feeling personally fulfilled was easy to care about and become invested in. While this was my first time reading Sayaka Murata's work, it certainly won't be the last.
Life is a seesaw, and I am standing dead center, still and balanced: living kids on one side, living parents on the other. Nicky here with me at the fulcrum. Don't move a muscle, I think. But I will, of course. You have to.
Freelance writer and recent empty-nester Rocky is a hot mess, both literally and figuratively. Jamie, her 24-year-old son, is gainfully employed in another city, while 20-year-old daughter Willa is pursuing a degree in biology. Many things have changed over the years, but one thing has remained: the tradition of a family trip in the same undersized rental house. Sure, they're now joined by Jamie's girlfriend Maya, and Willa keeps disappearing to spend time with the cute girl from the surf shop, and Rocky can't stop blurting out her inappropriate thoughts and questions or having hot flashes or picking fights with her husband Nick...but who cares?
The reader spends time in Rocky's chaotic, hormonal inner life over the course of a week spent in a too-small rental home in Cape Cod, Massachusetts. Everything's changing—her body, her marriage, the life trajectories of the kids—and through it all burns a confusing, white-hot rage that she struggles to keep under control. Sandwich is Catherine Newman's second novel, although she's written some non-fiction books as well as some illustrated books for children.
Reading this book was a visceral experience, and I mean that in the best possible way. I feel like I shrugged inside Rocky's body like an ill-fitting coat. While I am twenty years younger than Rocky, I'm no stranger to hormonal woes, so I had no problem imagining what she was feeling. I appreciated the scatterbrainedness of it all, the hyperfocusing on detailed memories that so perfectly encapsulated the amusing exhaustion that is parenting young kids woven together with clumsy attempts at learning how to navigate relationships with adult children, aging parents, and a spouse she's relearning now that they finally have more than five minutes to themselves.
If you aren't much for slice-of-life or introspective style novels, especially one with a deeply flawed narrator, this may not be the read for you. Lower-rated reviews refer to Rocky's infuriating actions and thoughts, and they're not wrong. She makes many missteps and even grave errors, both on the current year's trip and in the past, and to be honest I'm not sure she learns from them. I'm fine with that, because I'm a melancholy anxious depressive who doesn't mind loose ends in a book like this, but if you won't be, this may a title to release back into the wild for another wanderer to find.
"We get used to things too easily. You think something's tasty the first time you eat it, but then you start taking it for granted. Never forget your first impressions."
After a career as a police detective, Nagare Kamogawa now spends his time cooking for others at the Kamogawa Diner alongside his daughter Koishi. There is no signage or online presence for the diner, which means that every visitor is there on purpose and with intention. Sometimes, that intention is simply to enjoy the most delicious meal of their lives. More often, though, they're searching for something that only the Kamogawa's secondary business—the Food Detective Agency—can provide. As the city cycles through each season of the year, the Kamogawas team up to track down significant dishes from their clients' pasts—not just the recipe, but the way it made them feel. If closure and context are included with the platefuls of Japanese-style ketchup spaghetti and tonkatsu, all the better.
The Kamogawa Food Detectives is the first installment in the Kamogawa Food Detectives series by Hisashi Kashiwai. Originally published in Japan in 2013, it was translated into English and released in the United States in 2024. This series is set in contemporary Kyoto.
I dove into this book excitedly and with as few expectations as possible. Over the past few years I've found I almost always love books, especially cozy books, that were originally published in Japanese or Korean. I appreciate their perceived deceptive simplicity, and this was no exception. While I haven't had the pleasure of sampling most of the dishes described, the descriptions practically spun them from air and dropped them on my tongue. I, an avid hater of both mushrooms and most shellfish, longed for fried matsukake, miso-simmered osyters, and clam and bamboo shoot broth. I found myself tearing up multiple times as I experienced the diner through the fresh perspective of a new customer, and perhaps most importantly, added several Japanese dishes to my meal plans for the month of January. Kashiwai (along with Jesse Kirkwood's masterful translation) helps us understand how food can heal trauma and hurt memories, making way for a brighter and lighter path forward. I'm looking forward to reading both The Restaurant of Lost Recipes and The Menu of Happiness over this next year.
"What's the point of living if you only do it how others want you to?"
Lonely rule-monger Linus Baker is a caseworker for the Department in Charge of Magical Youth (DICOMY). Despite his job bringing him face-to-face with the most extraordinary children on Earth as he visits orphanages and schools for magical youth, his days are monotonous. Overworked, micromanaged, and underappreciated, his only joys in life are his cat and the sunflowers he lovingly cultivates in his front yard.
One day, he finds himself summoned to the mysterious fifth floor, where DICOMY's Extremely Upper Management praises him for his rigid rule-following, exhaustive report-filing, and strict refusal to ponder or question any decisions above his pay grade and award him a top-secret assignment. He must travel to a secret orphanage in a location he's never heard of and conduct a month-long investigation into the director, Arthur Parnassas, and his incredibly rare—and potentially dangerous—charges.
The House in the Cerulean Sea is the first book in the Cerulean Chronicles series by TJ Klune. This series is set in a world that is very similar to our own, aside from the widely known presence of various magical beings. I've seen this series described as 1984 meets Harry Potter, which seemed outrageous until I read it and realized it's perhaps the most true comparison I've come across. I'd also compare it to the Netflix film Bright, albeit much happier and lighter.
I went into this book expecting a cozy, fun fantasy, which is partially what I got. However, there are elements of darkness present that only serve to enhance the heartrending nature of the story. The magical beings serve as a stand-in for all marginalized people, and call to mind everything from trans and queer youth to undocumented immigrants to children with mental and physical disabilities. Through the lens of Linus' month-long stay at the orphanage under Arthur's care, Klune explores ideas of self-discovery, subverting expectations, and radical authenticity. I plan to read the next installment, Somewhere Beyond the Sea, very soon!
"I don't know if feeling good should be the goal," he says, still in that brittle, aching tone. "It's more realistic to center on little things. One thing, each day, that isn't sullied by grief. One by one by one until you've started to rebuild the foundation that got obliterated. Because that's what happiness is, at the root. A foundation. And foundations aren't ever one thing, they're many little things interlocked together."
Disaster bisexual Nicholas Claus (Coal, to his friends) is the wayward heir of Christmas and a constant thorn in his dad (the reigning Santa)'s side. After a well-intentioned gesture of goodwill ends in disaster and economic collapse, Coal finds himself behind his favorite bar in New Haven, Connecticut, spilling his heart to a mysterious stranger. And then, you know, making out with him a bit. As you do.
A year and a half later, Coal is blindsided when his dad announces his impending engagement to Iris, one of Easter's princesses and his best friend, without any forewarning. If that isn't bad enough, he also learns that he's expected to fabricate a rivalry with Hex Hallow, the heir of Halloween...and the mysterious man he met behind the bar.
The Nightmare Before Kissmas is the first book in the Royals and Romance series by Sara Raasch. This series is set in a world where holidays are overseen and cared for by corresponding realms. If you've seen Tim Burton's The Nightmare Before Christmas or Disney Channel's Halloweentown, you get the picture. Since this is the first installment in the series, there is a good amount of worldbuilding woven throughout Coal and Hex's story.
I went into this book expecting a cozy, fun holiday romance. While those elements are definitely present, I was surprised by the thematic depth of such a lighthearted story. Through the lens of the Christmas royal machine, Raasch explores ideas of grief and trauma, nationalism, imperialism, hegemony, labor organization, and the appropriate use of privilege and power to advocate for the oppressed. I'm excited to read more in this world, starting with the next book scheduled to release March 2025.
Recommended by: Brea Grant on the Reading Glasses podcast
I've been a fan of Kendall's for years now, and have enjoyed participating in her digital baking communities. This book is next level. It's exactly what I have wanted and needed to liturgize my baking as a spiritual practice. Beautiful theological reflections, prayers, meditations, and recipes. I can't wait until my hardcover copy comes in the mail after release day and I can bake through the lessons slowly as intended.