ISOLA

 

ISOLA 

By Allegra Goodman

My dear friend Mary chose Isola by Allegra Goodman for our next book club selection.  Even though I am no longer able to attend the gatherings, I still love reading the books my friends choose.  I have always believed a person reveals a little of themselves through the stories they’re drawn to…and Mary, a doctor, is clearly unafraid of deep, intense reads with shocking truths.  This book is exactly that. 

Before even starting, I was captivated by the cover. I imagined it as the edge of the island where Marguerite is abandoned…alone, exposed, and forced to survive.

When Mary texted the title, I immediately looked it up and read the Prologue. The opening line stopped me, “I still dream of birds. I watch them circle, dive into rough waves, and fly up to the sun.  I call to them but hear no answer. Alone, I stand on a stone island.”  That was it. I texted her back with, I still dream of birds…Immediately downloads book!

I love birds…what can I say? 

This novel is a powerful and often shocking story, made even more compelling by its roots in true history. Through the eyes of Marguerite de la Rocque, we witness a journey that redefines what it means to be a woman of worth, and the difference between simply having a life and truly living one.

Marguerite begins as a vulnerable heiress in sixteenth-century France, left in precarious circumstances after her father’s death. Her guardian, driven by greed, exploits her fortune for his own ambitions. When she is taken on a voyage to New France, she falls in love with his secretary…a decision that leads to a brutal act of revenge. She, her lover, and a loyal servant are abandoned on a desolate island.

I’ll admit, the story starts slowly. But once Marguerite reaches the island, I was completely drawn in. Her life there is both horrifying and mesmerizing.

There are moments in this book that are almost unbearable to read. At times, I found myself stunned…mouth literally open. One scene in particular stayed with me: her awakening as she watches a bear devour her dead lover… and then, despite never having fired a gun, she kills the bear herself. In that moment, you can feel her spirit shift…from a frightened young woman into a fierce survivor.

Isolation, introspection, resilience, transformation…this story holds all of it. And that transformation is profound.

The title, Isola…what did it mean?  I looked it up because it felt meaningful. Isola…Italian for “island.” But broken down, it becomes “I sola”…I alone. It reflects not only her physical isolation, but her emotional and spiritual solitude. What does it mean to be completely alone, with no hope of rescue?

This is an intense true story of survival and transformation. This is a beautiful story of redemption and faith.

I loved this paragraph:

“In my experience, God’s work was unexpected. His grace required interpreting. Wild thoughts, but I was wild. Ideas unbecoming, but what had I become? I, myself, was now an island, solitary. Brambles and five-petalled flowers were my garden. Rocks my furniture. Ocean waves my lessons. Sadness overwhelmed me and sank back. Then, like the tide, joy crept in on me again.”

It’s gritty. It’s beautiful. It’s haunting.

And it leaves you with a question that lingers long after the final page:
What truly makes a woman a woman of worth?

It isn’t a simple answer. 

It isn’t wealth…it isn’t circumstance, but perhaps it is what a woman endures, what she becomes, and who she is when stripped of everything else. Carved through survival, shaped by solitude, and revealed in who she becomes when she stands alone.

Isola.

Beach Read

 

Beach Read 

By Emily Henry

I picked up Beach Read on a flight to Texas, figuring I could finally finish it in the air. It started off lighthearted, almost Hallmark-y… and, if you don’t already know, I’m a hopeless romantic at heart.

The cover promises: “A breath of fresh air… steamy, smart, and perceptive.” Honestly? I wouldn’t have chosen those exact words.

Here I was, trapped in the middle seat, flanked by two chatty strangers who clearly didn’t understand the sacredness of plane reading. I even tried the classic desperate move…asking if one of them would swap seats. Spoiler: nope. Social cues? Ignored.

For about the first 150 pages, I was hooked. On the surface, it’s a seemingly perfect summer romance: two writers with creative block, January Andrews and Gus Everett, become neighbors and agree to swap genres. She’ll attempt literary fiction, he’ll tackle romance. Cute, right?

But… then the book dives into every. single. mundane. detail. Multi-page debates about attending events…should we go or not go…the logistical details of how they will get there, detailed travel plans, and how every minor interaction must reflect their feelings. And in between, every step of the way is interspersed with information on how January is feeling, how she thinks Gus must be feeling, and what this means for their relationship. I contemplated several times if I could even go on reading it…I did.

I don’t have high standards for a romcom. I like a little romance and some comedy. This book, however, offers neither in any satisfying way. Instead, it reads like a meditation on grief, healing, and the courage to confront vulnerability…complete with death, suicide, adultery, and cancer. And, ironically, despite the title, there’s zero reading on the beach.

Where’s the flirty banter? The sexual tension? The obstacles to overcome? I kept waiting for a spark, a laugh, anything remotely exciting…honestly, the airplane turbulence felt more thrilling than the plot.

After page 150, Beach Read became boring…unless, of course, I really was reading it on a beach, in a charming seaside cottage, next to the sexiest writing partner ever. If that’s your life, this might just be your summer fantasy. For the rest of us… maybe bring headphones. Or a better book.

 

We Are All the Same in the Dark

 

We Are All the Same in the Dark

By Julia Heaberlin

We Are All the Same in the Dark…aren’t we?

This book is a mystery wrapped in another mystery, layered with secrets, lies, and hate, all tangled in gossip, judgment, and obsession. It’s the kind of story that digs in and for me…kept me turning the pages.

I needed a book to hold me this weekend. Last Monday at 4 a.m., I was woken by shouting and gunshots. Twenty minutes later, my building was swarmed by police. A black sedan appeared, yellow crime tape went up, and then a coroner’s van. I heard it all. Traumatic. It turned out to be a crime of passion…my neighbor, someone I barely knew but who had always been kind in passing, was gone. I felt sadness, shock, and the weight of fragility. Coupled with everything else in my life, I craved a book to lose myself in, tucked safely at home. My sweet friend, Ginger, sent me this one. I loved the title, and as it turned out, it was a thriller, a crime novel, and exactly what I needed.

Small-town Texas cop Odette Tucker has never escaped the shadow of what happened ten years ago…the disappearance of Trumanell Branson (that name just sounds like someone from Texas), the quintessential girl-next-door, the town’s golden girl. Posters still scream for her return, and gossip points to Wyatt, Trumanell’s brother, as everyone’s prime suspect. Now, Wyatt discovers a strange, one-eyed girl alone in a field. What does he know? What does Odette know? Secrets, secrets, everywhere.

And dandelions…why dandelions? I looked them up: resilience, hope, joy, new beginnings, childhood innocence, the beauty of nature. It felt fitting, quietly symbolic amidst all the darkness.

There’s a paragraph I had to earmark:

"Strangers are powerful. They can mark you in twenty seconds. They can rob you at gunpoint, so you never feel safe again. They can mention you’re pretty at a party when no one else ever has, and then you don’t kill yourself that day or maybe any other day. It’s like a diamond tossed out of a car window you were lucky enough to catch."

Odette is that stranger for the narrator…she gave her an eye, a piece of paper, a lifeline. The paragraph ends hauntingly: “She is why I still exist, which is exactly why I need to find out why she no longer does.”

The words Odette passes along on a small piece of paper: tender, resilient, strong, resourceful, kind, empathetic…are the words inherited from a father to a daughter, from that daughter to a runaway. Wouldn’t we all be lucky to be described that way?

We are all the same in the dark. Angel’s mother used to whisper that when tucking her in. In the dark, all that remains is our soul.

And then there’s reality. 4 a.m. and gunshots. One in a trailer park might not register beyond the local radar…or in a small town, be quickly forgotten. But for me? It shakes the world awake. For a moment, it could have been a car backfiring, or even a minor earthquake (I’ve had five in the past two weeks).

I don’t usually gravitate toward crime thrillers, but I really enjoyed this one. I didn’t guess whodunnit…I wasn’t even close.

It all comes together in the end. The story is suspenseful, devastating, and utterly engrossing. And yet…even after the last page, questions linger. Who truly hides behind the masks of small-town faces? And how dark must a secret be before it consumes everything?

My friend Ginger said to pass the book along so if anyone would like to read it, let me know and I’ll send it to you.

 

The Almanack of Naval Ravikant

 

The Almanack of Naval Ravikant

Curated by Eric Jorgenson

For weeks, it felt like all Vanessa talked about was Naval. Naval said this…Naval said that. Who in the heck is Naval?

She has spent hours listening to his podcasts, sent me screenshots of highlighted passages, and she and Chandler filled their evenings watching his YouTube interviews. Eventually, I caved…I bought The Almanack.

Self-help books aren’t usually my thing. Vanessa devours them; I tend to read ten pages at a time before they quietly migrate to my DNF pile. Still, I opted for a hard copy. I like the idea of being able to flip back to meaningful passages and the profound statements…if there are any, and the lines that spark an audible ah-ha.

I was immediately drawn to the simplicity of the cover. After weeks of hearing about Naval’s wisdom and insights, I was genuinely curious to dive in.

What stood out to me most is Naval’s holistic view of success. He doesn’t frame wealth as purely financial. Instead, he argues that true success requires building both material wealth and inner peace. The book centers on creating financial freedom through life skills, leverage, and long-term thinking…while equally emphasizing mindfulness, contentment, and clarity.

One of his core philosophies is that wealth and money are not the same. Money is how we transfer time and value; wealth is what works for you while you sleep. Equally compelling is his belief that happiness is a choice, and a skill. It isn’t simply the byproduct of financial achievement; it’s something that can be cultivated intentionally.

He also makes a strong case that judgment is the single most important skill in business and in life. Good judgment compounds. Each sound decision builds upon the last, creating exponential returns over time.

I appreciated learning that he’s a voracious reader. He speaks often about how reading can dramatically improve your life. On that point, I wholeheartedly agree.

One idea that truly resonated with me was his advice on major life decisions: marriage, career moves, relocating. His rule is simple: If you can’t decide, the answer is no. There’s clarity in that. And when faced with two equal options, choose the path that’s more painful in the short term. Growth rarely comes from the easy route.

I didn’t pick up this book searching for financial insight. I’ve always felt wealthy in the ways that matter most: friendships, relationships, enoughness (is that a word?). For me, the most compelling chapters were the ones on happiness.

Overall, the book isn’t groundbreaking. But as Vee and I often say…it’s common sense. The truth is, common sense isn’t always common. Exercise. Build wealth. Value your time. Be kind. The simplicity of the message is part of its strength.

I enjoyed it more than I expected, and I would recommend it to anyone looking for practical, grounded guidance on living a more intentional and fulfilling life.

 

The Only One Left

 

The Only One Left 

By Riley Sager

Hope’s End is a 36-room coastal gothic mansion perched on cliffs where the Atlantic crashes below…it is totally dramatic, eerie, and dripping with history.

Every character has their own take on the past, but the real story is Lenora Hope, now in her 70s, the sole survivor of a family murdered 54 years ago. Townspeople never believed her innocence, turning her into a living legend…or nightmare.  She was reduced to a creepy little song sung by everyone:

At seventeen, Lenora Hope
Hung her sister with a rope
Stabbed her father with a knife
Took her mother’s happy life
“It wasn’t me,” Lenora said
But she’s the only one not dead

Enter Kit McDeere, reluctantly taking a job as Lenora’s caregiver. Lenora is paralyzed and mute from strokes, and Kit’s last patient died on her watch…so yeah, she’s desperate for work. Things get creepier when Kit learns the previous caregiver vanished without a trace.

Would you stay? She does.

Lenora finally decides to reveal her story via typewriter, slowly unraveling decades of mystery. The suspense is real, the twists are plenty…

But, let’s be honest: pretending to be an invalid for decades? Waiting decades for revenge on your sister…as a “prank”…mind blown. Some of the plot twists are equal parts thrilling and head-scratchingly absurd.

Despite the eyebrow-raising moments, I liked the gothic chills, dark secrets, and enough suspense that it kept me turning pages.

Just don’t ask me to explain Lenora’s life choices.

 

Theo of Golden

 

Theo of Golden

By Allen Levi

I’ll begin with the cover, because I love it. A single feather…simple, quiet, and beautiful. I collect feathers myself; I always pick them up when I see them. Years ago, someone once told me my spirit guide was a great Indian Chief who drops them for me. I’ve always loved the idea that feathers are left as symbols of growth, transition, freedom, and survival. While I’m not entirely sure what the feather represents for this book, I can’t help but see all of those meanings reflected in Theo’s journey.

The premise is simple. One spring, an elderly man named Theo arrives in the small Southern town of Golden. He is a man of mystery…wealthy, polished, originally from Portugal, and yet deeply private about his past.

Theo spends his days wandering around the town until he stumbles upon The Chalice, a local coffee shop. Lining the walls are nearly one hundred pencil portraits drawn by a local artist. Most customers pass them without a second glance. Theo does not. He stops. He studies them. Then he does something unexpected: he decides to buy them, one by one.

But he doesn’t keep them.

Instead, Theo tracks down the subjects of the portraits…ordinary townspeople who have no idea they’ve been drawn and gifts each person their image. What follows is a quiet ripple effect of kindness that transforms the town, and Theo himself, in ways that feel both intimate and earth-shattering.

I loved the concept…the generosity, the unexpected responses of the recipients, and the way the town slowly shifts. The novel feels like a study in human vulnerability. Through these stories, you come to realize that grief and joy are not opposites, but neighbors.

At times, the pacing felt a bit slow, and I think the story could have been shorter. Still, I truly appreciated the ending. You do eventually learn who Theo is, what brought him to Golden, and why he carried so many secrets, and that resolution made the journey worthwhile.

We could all learn something about how he lived…one focused on being curious, living humbly, listening intently…being generous.  If we did…perhaps we could change a town…or a stranger’s life…maybe a friend’s…or even our own.

The God of the Woods

 

The God of the Woods 

by Liz Moore

524 Pages of Mystery and Memories

I had no idea this book was 524 pages when I started.  My new Kindle didn’t make that obvious, and I’m still figuring out all its functions. Needless to say, it was a commitment and I stayed up way too late Saturday night in order to finish it.

The God of the Woods is a murder mystery wrapped in a rich family drama, set against the backdrop of a kids’ summer camp. And for me, that camp setting took me back. I grew up going to Camp Eberhart on Corey Lake in Michigan, where Vanessa and I met our best friend, Katie. Camp was magical, and my memories there remain some of the most treasured. Most recently living in Indiana, I’d spend summers at Katie’s family cottage on Corey Lake...one of my favorite places on earth. We’d just hang out, chat, watch sunsets, and take photos on the dock. (I have the exact same sunset photo multiple times a year…it’s a little inside joke.)

Now, Katie’s daughters go to Camp Eberhart, and we still embarrass them, paddling across the lake just to wave furiously while they ignore us. Some things never change.

Moore’s novel takes that nostalgic, slightly mischievous camp feeling and spins it into something much darker. The third rule of Camp Emerson? “When lost, sit down and yell.” I don’t remember the rules at Camp Eberhart back in the ‘70s, but Moore’s camps feel vivid, alive, and eerily authentic.

The story unfolds across two timelines, two mysteries, and a sprawling cast of characters, all wrapped in secrets that ripple across generations.

1961: Eight-year-old Peter “Bear” Van Laar IV disappears while hiking with his grandfather near the family’s Adirondack estate, Self-Reliance. Despite an extensive search, he is never found.

1975: At Camp Emerson, the girls in the cabin awaken to discover 13-year-old Barbara Van Laar, Bear’s younger sister, born after his disappearance, is missing from her bunk.

Are the Van Laars cursed? Or is this merely tragic coincidence? Multiple perspectives invite readers to explore different truths…or perhaps uncover that there is no single truth at all.

For me, the camp setting was a portal back to my own childhood…campfires, sing-alongs, sneaking around after dark, swimming, horseback riding, and spooky stories under the stars. Moore’s descriptions bring Camp Emerson to life in a way that feels both nostalgic and suspenseful.

At times, the book’s length and multitude of characters made it feel slow, but the payoff…the twists and revelations at the end, made it worth it.

SPOILERS AHEAD:
I was stunned by the Van Laars’ cover-up for Alice. They didn’t seem to like her, so why not let the police know it was an accident? Was it about reputation? A secret affair? And one final question: who led Tracy out of the woods? The book never reveals who…leaving one last mystery lingering.

Overall, I enjoyed the book.  It kept me up way past my typical bedtime…I liked the dual timeline, the mystery, the family secrets, the summer nostalgia and the eerie magic of the woods.