Would read again – Ring Reads

‘Breakneck’ Takes Aim at U.S., China’s Flaws – and Promise

The cover of Breakneck, with the title, subtitle, and author superimposed in sans-serif text upon a photograph of a woman in what appears to be traditional Chinese clothing standing on ground surrounded by vegetation. Behind her, rising out of a body of water, is the smog-faded image of a building being constructed.

Breakneck reads like being cornered at a party by someone itching to rant about both the U.S. and China’s approach to growth and policy. Fortunately, this rant is well researched and reasoned.

‘Feather Detective’ Gives Voice to One Woman’s Quiet Efforts

The cover for The Feather Detective, featuring an illustration of what appears to be a colorized and stylized version of the titular figure, Roxie Laybourne, with over a dozen trays of colorful and largely tropical bird specimens.

Roxie’s life is fascinating on its face, but Sweeney’s writing lets it shine with an effective choice of details and events to illustrate such an illustrious life.

‘Hollow’ Full of Twists and Wise Restraint

Sullivan threads several tricky needles well in Brimstone Hollow, and that restraint helps her plot and characters shine.

‘Flower’ a Gripping, Sobering History

While the prose and structure is a nice read, there’s no making this subject matter go down easy. But then, forced family separation, rampant human rights violations, and elusive justice should never go down easy.

‘Grave’ a Fast-Paced Horror Where Anything Goes

The cover of Carry Me To My Grave, featuring an overhead view of a train passing through dense forest. The smoke from the train makes a large cloud that looks like a skull.

This isn’t a polyphonic novel, nor is it one grappling with morally gray characters. This is a story of humans good, monsters bad, and the fate of the world hangs in the balance. Carry Me To My Grave doesn’t try to do anything more or less than this, and it does it well.

‘Race’ A Nail-Biting Cross-Country Roadtrip

The cover for Eric Moskowitz's debut, The Longest Hardest Race, featuring a colorized picture of two early Ford Model-Ts racing down a dirt road. The portrait of a fairly young Henry Ford is superimposed just beneath the title.

The Hardest, Longest Race at its core is about the struggle between the past and the future, between what’s true and what gets remembered.

‘Rachel West’ a Starstruck Mystery

The cover of Rachel West and the Fallen Starlet by Emma Mills, featuring a hot-pink flip phone against a bright blue background. The phone has skull and ribbon-bow charms.

Rachel West is a rare murder mystery that holds interest but doesn’t demand a reader’s heart rate spike as they fly through pages.

‘Only One’ a Swift and Sharp Thriller

The cover for The Only One Who Knows by Lisa M. Matlin. A stylized illustration of a pink house and lighthouse upon a thin beach of yellow sand and before a teal ocean make up the bulk of the cover. In the water is a dark triangular shark fin. On the beach is the silhouette of a woman. The title and author are superimposed over the image in sans-serif font.

It can be daunting to let characters be messy, especially those whose eyes we borrow to experience the story, but Matlin does so with confidence.

The Past Feels Too Familiar in ‘Fear’

The cover of Fear and Fury, the center of which has what appears to be a black and white photo of protesters and counter protesters at a court hearing about the case; the photo has been shaded blue. The title and subtitle are in white text at the top against blocks of red and blue.

The ideas that led to the shooting and Goetz’s subsequent exoneration are still alive and well, and while it may not be easy, it’s crucial to understand and confront them.

In ‘Infamous,’ Minutiae Gives Meaning to Family Life

Painted portraits of five children peek out from torn antique-looking wallpaper with the title and author of the book in yellow cursive in the foreground.

The Gilberts and Thornwalk are fictional, but the equivalents in our own homes and families and lives aren’t. These bits and bobbles, these trinkets and signs of wear that mean nothing to anyone else and might not even mean a thing to ourselves but nevertheless bear aching witness to, well, life.