The Secret of Secrets (Doubleday, 2025) is a whodunnit that will keep you coming back for more.

This is a long one. So long that I needed to get it twice from Libby in order to finish listening to all 23 hours.

Author Dan Brown is known for his detailed novels. He wrote The Da Vinci Code—another book I’d recommend. If you liked that one, you will probably like this one. If you didn’t like that one, you might want to skip his latest book.

Set primarily in Prague, Secret of Secrets is full of history. In many ways Prague is a main character. Having never been there, the book piqued my curiosity about this city.

Brown has a way of blending history, science, religion and human drama into a riveting read.

Robert Langdon, a professor of symbology, and Katherine Solomon, a noetic scientist who is writing a book about her findings, are the main characters. When the book is hijacked off the publisher’s server, everything goes haywire.

I won’t give away any secrets, but it does make me wonder what governments are really up to. Don’t worry, this book isn’t political in the sense of partisan politics.

The last and probably only other time I read Of Mice and Men (Penguin Group, 1937) was in high school. So, a long time ago.

I recently listened to this novella by John Steinbeck. I had forgotten how sad it is. It made me wonder why it would have been a classroom assignment. Then I did little research.

On PBS’ American Experiences website Jodie Scales, a high school English in Indiana, said she teaches the book because: “It tackles moral and ethical issues within the structure of a story. The students really relate to the characters. For example, we have a really strong special education program at our school. We have a lot of kids that are very protective of those students that have special needs. I think when they start to read Lenny’s character, they think about some of the kids with special needs in our school—they think about what could happen if they aren’t protected. I’ve never had a student making fun of Lenny.”

All of that makes sense. In these times of such divisiveness I can envision so many teaching aspects within Of Mice and Men. I can’t tell you what I learned way back when, but clearly my English teacher found some relevance for us more than 40 years ago.

Some books are timeless that way. They have relevance no matter the generation reading it.

This is also a book that often finds itself on banned book lists. Partly this has to do with the use of the N-word. While I certainly won’t condone the use of that word, if one takes into consideration when the book was written and the time period the book is set—the Great Depression—then it’s appropriate.

If it’s been a minute since you read Of Mice and Men, I recommend taking another look at it. It’s short, fast, gripping, sweet, sad and so well written.

“You can’t go home again” is more than a book title by Thomas Wolfe. It’s a sentiment often more true than people would like to believe.

But going home is exactly what Beth Macy did. Paper Girl: A Memoir of Home and Family in a Fractured America (Penguin Press, 2025) is her telling of returning to Urbana, Ohio, where she grew up in the 1970s and 1980s.

While Macy and Urbana might not be enough for you to pick up the book, the book is worth reading—or listening to, as I did.

It’s a book for today. For the political divide we are living in. For the economic, educational and rural-urban divides.

Macy escaped a crappy childhood, got a college degree, found a decent guy to marry and has had a successful career as a journalist and author.

But what allowed her to move beyond her upbringing isn’t necessarily available to subsequent generations. What the Pell Grant provided her and what it does today are drastically different.

Opportunity. That’s a big difference in what is going on today. Some have it, some don’t.

This book is personal. But it’s so much more than a memoir.

Because Macy has had a connection to so many of the people in the book for decades it’s also their stories, making this about people-community and not just one person. It’s about how we got to where we are in the United States through the stories of many connected to Urbana, Ohio.

This book helps explain how we became such a fractured society. It was a bit eye-opening at times. It makes you see the other side—whichever side you aren’t on.

One thing that really resonated with me is how the impact of not having local news affects a community as a whole and the individuals in it.

So, here’s my plea—subscribe to your local newspaper. If it’s free, send them money without them asking for it. Support your local radio and TV stations. If you are a business owner, buy an ad. Even if you don’t need more business, buy an ad thanking your customers. And don’t do this just once; make it a habit.

If more communities keep losing their news, we are all worse off and the divide only gets bigger because there is no one bringing balance to whatever the topic is.

I love receiving fun mail. You know, birthday cards, postcards, the random just because correspondence.

It doesn’t happen that much anymore. Somehow on Facebook an HB with a cake emoji seems to pass for birthday wishes. It’s nice. I’ll take it, and certainly have posted something like that myself, but it’s not the same as a tangible card that someone purchased, wrote on, mailed, and that I can keep forever. Texting is just as impermanent as those social media posts.

I like snail mail. Mostly I send birthday cards and postcards. On occasions I’ll send and receive an email that could pass for a more substantive correspondence.

This must be why I knew I would enjoy the novel The Correspondent by Virginia Evans that my friend Denise recommended. Denise is the ultimate correspondent, which I’m sure the U.S. Postal Service appreciates.

The book isn’t going to be for everyone. I think you are going to have to appreciate the art of writing to someone, as well as receiving mail to enjoy this.

Sybil Van Antwerp is the main character in the book. It’s her musings between others that fills the pages through the course of several years.

What this books proves is that a collection of letters can tell the story of one’s life—the good, the bad, the sad, the parts that are shared with some and not others, the secrets (or stones as one might call them), the heartache, the joy—all the components.

I loved listening to the book because most of the characters had a different person reading what “they” wrote. The emotion and inflections, well, it was like I was listening to a play.

There is a depth to the book, because, well, there is depth to every life. It’s what we choose to share that matters. Maybe that’s the greatest take away from the book—the importance of communication, the importance of letting others in.

A thought that kept going through my mind while I listened to The Nightingale (St. Martin’s Griffin, 2015) by Kristin Hannah is that it would make for a great movie. I’m not alone in that thought. After finishing the book I learned the release of the motion picture is set for 2027.

However, most movies never truly capture the book. They can’t. Not enough time to delve into the nuances that printed words can. Not enough time to develop all the characters’ story lines.

So, read or listen to the book before the movie comes out.

This historical fiction takes place during World War II as the Nazis are about to occupy France through to when the country is liberated. It’s the story of two sisters who are not close because of difficulties in childhood, but their lives are always going to be intertwined.

They have different beliefs before the war comes to their doorsteps, what one should or should not do to fight, let alone survive.

Hannah is a fantastic storyteller. It’s easy to believe Vianne and Isabelle are real people; same for all the other people in their lives. This is because they are based on real people.

The heroism, heartache, terror, and atrocities of war are not glossed over. At times the book is gritty. How could it not be? That’s what makes it feel so real. Like I am reading about the lives of people who lived through that time period.

This book is bound to trigger an array of emotions; at least it did for me. I highly recommend it.

If you want to escape reality for a bit, read The Wedding People (Henry Holt and Company, 2024) by Alison Espach.

The lead character, Phoebe, finds herself the only hotel guest not part of the wedding celebration. She is there for very personal reasons. Of course there is a bridezilla and a compliant groom.

I found many of the characters predictable and guessed the storyline in short order. Still, I wanted to keep listening because the book is funny, tender, absurd and entertaining.

The writing is so descriptive it’s easy to imagine the scenes without any actual visuals to aid you. While there isn’t a ton of depth to the book, there is a plot and a message.

It’s like a soap opera in word form. It’s also a bit like a Hallmark movie—so that should be a big giveaway for those who know what that means. People who like soaps and/or Hallmark are likely to enjoy this book.

If I were to bet, I’d say men are not going to like this book. But go ahead and prove me wrong.

Warning: For those who are triggered by any mention of suicide, this is not the book for you. Flip side: If you like happy endings, keep reading it.

What more can one say about Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice that hasn’t already been written?

After all, it was first published on Jan. 28, 1813, in London by T. Egerton of Whitehall. Not many books sustain that kind of lifespan; where people are still choosing to read a book that is more than 200 years old.

But that’s just what I did. Well, I actually listened to it. I know I’ve read it before. I have a vague feeling it was back in high school. What I was supposed to be learning at that time, well, I have no idea.

I have not seen the movie, but I might add it to my watch list.

This book is a definite classic worth revisiting if it’s a been a while, a must if you haven’t turned these pages before so you may become acquainted with Elizabeth Bennett, her family and the misunderstood Mr. Darcy.

Many of Austen’s female characters are strong and independent. They are not merely submissive to men as the time period might dictate. That’s what is so delightful about this book—the strength of the characters, which leads to the unpredictability of the story.

Austen has a way with words to bring you into the fold, to make you care, to make you wonder what the outcome will be.

Even if you know the story, the writing is worth revisiting. This is a book that will inevitably be worth reading centuries from now.

You don’t have to know the name Craig Kelly to enjoy The Darkest White: A Mountain Legend and the Avalanche that Took Him (HarperCollins Publishers, 2024).

It was the author who drew me to the book. I have enjoyed the books I’ve read of Eric Blehm’s—The Last Season: Randy Morgenson was legendary for finding people missing in the High Sierra. … Then one day he went missing himself (HarperCollins, 2006)  and Fearless: The Undaunted Courage and Ultimate Sacrifice of Navy SEAL Team SIX Operator Adam Brown (WaterBrook Press, 2012)

After listening to a talk Blehm gave in Truckee in spring 2024 about his latest book I knew I wanted to read it.

The Darkest White is bound to be a page turner for anyone who ever skied or snowboarded—be it recreationally, professionally, at a resort or in the back country.

Kelly died in 2003 in an avalanche in British Columbia at the age of 36. Six others died that day, including Kathleen Kessler of Truckee. Others from Truckee survived the avalanche.

I didn’t know Kelly, not even sure I had ever heard of him until this book came out. He was someone living life on his own terms. That seems like such a rare things these days.

Blehm does an excellent job of weaving together Kelly’s past, his family, his competitiveness, his progression through the snowboarding world, how his engineering mind helped him design Burton boards, his plans post-competition, and his final days.

I felt Kelly’s loss through Blehm’s words. I was left wondering what more he would have contributed to this world had he lived. Craig Kelly is a name worth knowing.

Plants and animals have plenty to teach, if only we would listen.

This is one of the overriding messages of Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge, and the Teaching of Plants (Milkweed Editions, 2013) by Robin Wall Kimmerer.

Kimmerer is a botanist and college professor. She is also a member of the Citizen Potawatomi Nation. As an indigenous scientist her being, her training, her life is about melding what at times can be contradicting elements.

I listened to this book. It was long. At times the book was in need of an editor to shorten segments, move things a long faster, and curtail some of the tangents.

However, with so many nuggets of wisdom, stories of how native people understand the land and the plants and animals that call it home, and the hope for the future I kept listening. At times I was thoroughly captivated by Kimmerer’s knowledge.

What’s most frustrating is how we seem to keep destroying Mother Earth instead of collectively trying to make her healthier. We seem to forget or not understand that her health and wellbeing directly affects us individually and collectively.

The book is not wonky. It’s real. It tells us how we can do better without being preachy. The stories show what works and what doesn’t.