Set in the American Midwest Los Angeles and Belize the story follows Terri a woman whose life has been shaped more by endurance than confidence as she steps into a world that refuses to conform to her expectations. Drawn by love and circumstance she travels to Belize with Reynold a charismatic musician whose ambitions are as expansive as the landscape they traverse. From the moment Terri arrives the sensory richness of the place—its heat music food and spiritual traditions—begins to unsettle her sense of control. “The heavy air wraps around her carrying strange beautiful scents of sea salt and tropical flowers” she observes early on already aware that the rules she knows no longer apply. Terri’s marriage to Reynold strains under unspoken resentments cultural misunderstandings and power imbalances that surface gradually often in quiet moments rather than dramatic confrontations. Reynold’s vision of music as salvation—referring to the musical note “Mi will create music for the world to hear”—runs parallel to Terri’s own search for meaning though the two are not always in harmony. As Terri encounters Garifuna Maya and African diasporic traditions spiritual guides and rituals enter the narrative—not as spectacles but as lived realities. One character warns her “Life is fraught with challenges. Every problem is a sharp blade cutting the path between success and failure” a line that encapsulates the book’s theme of growth through discomfort. Midway through the narrative the stakes intensify as motherhood comes into focus. Terri’s identity as a mother—protective fearful and fiercely loving—drives the plot in the story’s second half pushing her into spaces where faith folklore and intuition intersect. Music becomes both a map and a language echoing through scenes of travel ritual and memory. Even moments of tenderness carry an undercurrent of unease as when Terri reflects on belonging and realizes how easily devotion can slide into self-erasure.

The writing leans heavily on imagery and rhythm often borrowing the cadences of songs and oral storytelling. Lines such as “Stars glitter and stretch across the heavens scattered diamonds across black velvet” sit beside more grounded observations about marriage illness and emotional dependency. This tonal oscillation mirrors Terri’s internal conflict; she’s pulled between skepticism and belief autonomy and surrender. Later reflections reveal a growing self-awareness as Terri comes to understand that “pain can become her greatest teacher” not through abstraction but through lived consequence. As a work of magical realism with elements of spiritual fiction and women’s literary drama the book resists easy categorization. Its supernatural aspects are never fully separated from psychology or culture; instead they coexist shaped by ancestry music and place. At times the ambitious narrative—which incorporates Christian symbolism Indigenous cosmology and New Age spirituality—can feel dense but this density is a strength reflecting a worldview in which meaning is layered rather than singular. Ultimately this is a story about listening—to music to our ancestors to one’s own buried instincts. Terri’s journey is about transformation through reckoning as she learns to name what she wants and what she has ignored.

In the far future—after the waters have risen and then frozen—a smaller civilization (one with little understanding of the ancient technology entombed beneath its feet) has inherited an icier Earth. Olivia and her parents have just moved to the scenic town of June built on a steep hillside above an icy expanse. They’ve come so that her father—a scholar of ancient tech—can take up a scientific residency at the centuries-old Wardenclyffe lighthouse that stands at the edge of town. Olivia is impressed by the town’s massive library and also by its population of functioning androids (the ones in her old community stopped working long ago) but the best thing by far about June is Ava the pretty girl in Olivia’s art class. The two quickly become best friends and explore the forbidden tunnels under their school. They soon find evidence of a mysterious Institute buried beneath the town as well as indications that someone—perhaps the woman in the red coat who arrived in June on the same day as Olivia—has been sabotaging the local androids. What begins as a lark between friends soon turns into a high-stakes adventure replete with kidnappings explosions and the lost secrets of June. Hall’s prose as narrated by Olivia has a naive directness that paired with the striking illustrations by Ollikainen recalls the work of L. Frank Baum. “He’s wearing a nice-looking outfit” Olivia notes of one decommissioned android she finds “although despite its pristine condition it looks about a century or two out of date like something you’d see in a history book.” The pacing is a bit slow and readers will not find the urgent melodrama that characterizes much dystopian YA (though there is a bit of romance). For those nostalgic for an earlier era of young people’s literature however Hall’s yarn offers enormous delight.

Gren Moritz is the newly elected Chief Minister for the Nations of Rivennia and the first from Varcega. Varcegians believe in tradition; they eat farmed meat and practice arranged marriages (Gren’s wife Lorelei was carefully chosen by his grandparents). Gren’s main platform is “protecting humanity from the rise of ultrahumanism” but his initial bill may prove controversial—it proposes sterilization for anyone planning gene enhancement treatments ensuring that unwanted mutations can’t spread. Gren’s not the only one in charge. Rivennia has a monarch but the science-worshipping Human Order with its Supreme Leader Igor Voychenko appears to wield the real power. At a dinner Gren reluctantly attends he’s introduced to the Liffdom Lodges Voychenko’s amoral secret society. Gren’s pressured to play a game wagering on the date of Queen Brynhilda’s death. His competitors are also newcomers: washed-up supermodel Primula Zhang now the face of fast-fashion brand Skitto and a low-level government resource analyst Sam Rosendale. Sharing painful personal secrets Primula and Sam closely bond. When the date Primula chose passes without the queen’s demise Primula disappears and Sam with the chief minister’s help attempts to expose the dangerous truth of where she went and why. In a self-assured debut Urencio creates an inventive fascinating world. Lacunfort the metropolis Gren and Lorelei inhabit in the Year 500 contains wonders; a screen overhead mimics a sky with more layers of the city stacked on top—as surprised country-girl Lorelei notes “like a pile of pancakes!” Bots are fully incorporated into the society performing hospital work extinguishing fires even powdering Gren’s face before his talk-show appearance. For transportation capsulas speed through vacuum pneuducts. The characters major and minor are as carefully crafted as the setting. Urencio has a particularly deft and empathetic touch with those often overlooked whether they’re a marginalized trans man; or aging like Gren’s hardworking self-effacing assistant; or the frail queen though a “living relic” who also elicits respect. The queen’s advice to Gren is wise: “The single most important trait [for a politician] is detachment.”

Florence Cumings Swain is at the family summer retreat in York Harbor Maine. Now in her late 60s she is ready to part with the large house that holds so many memories. With her is her youngest and only remaining son Thayer (aka Tax) who hands her a box of old letters written by her now-deceased sons Jack and Wells during the first World War. There is also a diary kept by Wells during his time on the front lines. Florence is not eager to relive the painful history of her traumatic losses—first her husband Bradley Cumings went down with the Titanicas a terrified Florence watched from a lifeboat; next Wells perished on the battlefield of Belleau Wood; finally Jack died from a stroke when he was in his late 30s. Expecting to be alone for the week after Thayer’s departure fortified with a glass of white wine she reluctantly begins to read the letters. The ghostly presence of Bradley sits next to her whispering as she reads and reminisces (“I am here”). The next day Jack’s widow and Florence’s 16-year-old granddaughter Eva arrive from New York asking if Eva may spend the summer with her grandmother; Florence and Eva begin poring through the letters together. Bryant’s melancholy drama about profound loss and renewed forward-facing fortitude is a fictional portrait of the real Florence Cumings Swain. Florence narrates the story emotionally as she once again confronts each of the tragedies she has endured—Eva lightens the novel and reenergizes her grandmother with the buoyancy and hopefulness of youth. The letters and journal transport readers directly to the horrific battle in Belleau Wood and the detailed and evocative prose which carries a touch of mysticism vividly captures the upper-class settings of both periods.

Joseph “Breeze” Bye a wheelchair-bound former professional baseball player is on the cusp of finding major success in his second post-accident career: painting. Breeze paints portraits of great pitchers—players who are as good as he was before he was the victim of a hit-and-run. As a major exhibition of his work in New York City approaches he gets a call from a former associate who confesses to being the person who ran him down. This admission kicks off the protagonist’s examination of his own life told from a close first-person perspective in a long series of free associations; the narrative manages to maintain a tight focus while touching on a surprising variety of recollections. Breeze slowly unpacks his athletic career his marriage his extramarital affairs his trajectory as an artist his relationship with his daughter and the circumstances surrounding his disability. The varied facets merge and dissipate with a flowing casual logic that never leaves the reader behind. The entire story has a hazy winding quality to it which combines well with the complicated messy events of Breeze’s life. Fechter paints his protagonist with deep sympathy and nuance but also with unwavering honesty. Breeze’s narration follows his process of trying to make sense of past and present events as well as his journey from self-pity to an understanding that his self-centeredness has limited his connection to the world and his relationships with those closest to him. At times the multiple threads might threaten to overwhelm the reader but Fechter always manages to tie everything back to Breeze’s quest for greater awareness.

“There are so many family caregivers in the United States that if they were paid their labor would be worth more than the amount spent on all other forms of professional long-­term care combined” writes Mauldin. Trained as a medical sociologist she also fell in love with a woman whose leukemia returned to which Mauldin responded by learning other skills managing medications administering IV infusions and conducting physical therapy sessions. There is Mauldin charges a “dehumanizing logic” that accompanies such care: The caregiver likely working a full-time job herself—and most caretaking falls to women—may come to feel resentful at the extra responsibilities while the person being cared for may come to feel unworthy a burden. Indeed Mauldin writes it is a sign of unhealthfulness in society that we increasingly accept that it’s all right for the caregiver to walk away from such unpleasantries. Interviewing scores of people who fall under the rubric of “The One” the one who does the caretaking because so few people can afford private home care Mauldin describes some of the attendant stresses as they attend to loved ones afflicted by MS traumatic brain injury HIV/AIDS Alzheimer’s disease and other maladies. She also notes that these burdens tend to fall more lightly on white people than on people of color: “Black women are especially ignored viewed only as ‘incompetent’ and not listened to about their care needs.” For them as for queer people Mauldin writes it has long been customary to form “alternative communal” forms of care as well as advocacy groups for disability rights disability justice and “different distributions of care labor.”

Amie Teller has been stuck on the same Sept. 17th for two years: Waking up every morning to the same coffee shop that’s always out of blueberry bagels; witnessing the same argument between her friend David Lenski and their notoriously unpleasant neighbor Savannah Harlow; surviving the same awkward “friend date” with her ex-girlfriend Ziya Mathur whom Amie maybe wishes weren’t an ex at all. Everything is exactly as expected which is kind of how Amie likes things. So what should she do when time moves and she’s free and completely unprepared to live a day she hasn’t already rehearsed hundreds of times? Before she can figure out what life even looks like out of the eponymous loop Amie learns that Savannah was murdered on September 17. Convinced that no one understands the day as comprehensively as she does she accepts what she takes to be a kind of cosmic assignment: If she can solve Savannah’s murder maybe she can make sense of having lost two years. With David’s help and some assistance and romantic friction from Ziya Amie sifts through Sept. 17 over and over to find those tiny moments she didn’t realize really mattered. By solving the mystery of Savannah’s death Amie hopes to resolve her own questions about whether she and Ziya have potential or if the time loop has drifted them too far apart.

Rupert argues that while “authenticity is supposed to [be freeing] for some…it stands in the way of freedom.” Drawing on her background as a presidential campaign manager and adviser and her lived experience as a Black woman Rupert reveals how authenticity actually operates as a barrier to both equality and inclusion. While running former San Antonio Mayor Julián Castro’s 2020 presidential campaign she observed firsthand the way “unconscious biases and double standards” affected candidates of color like Castro and others. What she saw tallied with her own experiences and the way she often had to “contort” herself into social acceptability by performing a version of blackness approved by the dominant (white) culture. This involved such tactics as the “code-switching” or speech pattern adjustments such as those made by presidential candidate Kamala Harris depending on whether she was speaking to white or Black audiences. In the world of popular music and culture the author sees similar biases that work against people of color. While Taylor Swift is allowed to appear as the imperfect vulnerable—and therefore authentic—“girl next door” Beyoncé must be the flawless Queen Bey because “[f]or people of color the appeal has to be indisputable to be recognized at all.” To begin leveling an unequal cultural playing field Rupert suggests that authenticity needs to be rethought. Rather than continuing to treat it as an entrapping “ideology” it must be seen as “methodology” that allows people of color to survive a white supremacist society.

Unfortunately none of the dogs and cats at the animal shelter feel quite right. Leo is searching for something special maybe even magical. At a lively open-air market Leo and his older brother Rey are drawn to a vendor selling fantastical brightly colored creatures—combinations of different animals in dazzling hues. The brown-skinned shopkeeper explains that these are alebrijes magical beings from Mexico that can be adopted only by those they choose. Leo is overjoyed when a neon-winged wolf-dog selects him. He names it Lobo. But life with a magical pet isn’t easy. Lobo flies off during baths races away “faster than a bolt of lightning” on walks and leaves foul-smelling rainbow messes in his wake. Overwhelmed Leo wonders if he can handle such a powerful companion. But with Mamá Papá and Rey’s help he learns to care for Lobo in creative ways. Inspired by real-life alebrijes vibrant Mexican folk-art sculptures of mythical creatures Gama’s inviting illustrations burst with energy and imagination. Though fantastical Marquez’s heartwarming story makes clear that adopting a pet—even an out-of-this-world one—isn’t easy but teamwork makes all the difference. Leo and Mamá have warm brown skin and curly dark hair; Rey and Papá have lighter skin and dark hair. The family is cued Latine and Spanish words are interspersed.

The 1992 standoff at Ruby Ridge Idaho has largely been forgotten. Jennings the author of Paradise Now (2016) revives the story with the moment that touched off tragedy: Survivalist Randy Weaver had holed up with his family in a mountain retreat and having essentially entrapped him in an illegal gun sale the FBI came looking for him. A dog was killed then a 14-year-old boy then an agent after which Ruby Ridge became the site of a siege in which Randy’s wife died. While the agency never admitted overreach the FBI quietly settled with the survivors Randy among them some years after the standoff. Jennings links this event to the popular “dispensationalist” theology filling the airwaves at the time courtesy of televangelists such as Pat Robertson which among other things promulgated the argument that because Jesus was going to return any day now there was no need to fret about nuclear war environmental degradation and the like—apocalyptic views endorsed by President Reagan and numerous members of his cabinet. “If earthly conditions are supposed to be growing worse” writes Jennings “then all the old hopeful schemes for sprucing things up come to resemble schemes of a more sinister nature.” So the Weavers apparently thought and so did the Branch Davidians who came under siege a year later and so Jennings suggests do subscribers to QAnon mythology today. In any event as Jennings writes the Weavers became martyrs to the Christian nationalist cause the Charlie Kirks of their day “saints of circumstance beatified by the calamity that landed upon their heads.” The antigovernment stance of the Weavers and their supporters lives on too; as Jennings writes “Three decades on Ruby Ridge looks more like the start of something than its finale.”

Nisha’s only interacted with her grandparents Ammamma and Appappa over video chat. Now they’re on their way from Kerala India. The house is bustling with activity as everyone gets ready for the big visit: Nisha’s aunties prepare samosas in the kitchen while other relatives arrive laden with gifts. They surround Nisha giving her loud smooches and big squeezes squishing her cheeks and swinging her around. Just as Nisha feels hugged out her grandparents arrive and the whole family embraces them peppering them with questions. When someone prompts Nisha to hug Ammamma and Appappa she feels overwhelmed and runs to her room. Her mother reassures her; after all there are many ways to express love. Nisha shows her grandparents the new painting she’s been working on and is soon sitting beside them truly feeling the love. Macias depicts a boisterous yet empathetic South Asian family whose love for one another is palpable as they give their littlest space to deal with big feelings; speech bubbles conveying Nisha’s relatives’ near-constant stream of chatter contrasts effectively with the child’s quieter inner monologue. Joshi’s illustrations rendered in bright saturated primary colors are filled with movement and energy balancing joyful scenes of reunion with Nisha’s need for space and quiet.

Gina loves to draw and she has an autistic younger brother Rob who has an intellectual disability. She’s stressed about the normal things like making new friends and starting her period. She’s rarely bothered by a life that revolves around her brother’s safety with a strict routine and locks on doors and cupboards. As Gina tells her new friend Callie Rob repeats sounds—echolalia—but only rarely says words to intentionally convey meaning. Rob communicates with his family using idiosyncratic personal sign language. The Chaddertons are a loving household but Rob’s occasional violent outbursts are nonetheless frightening. Callie who has light-brown skin is a wonderful giving friend who’s great with Rob. This lightly fictionalized memoir is Gina’s story not her brother’s—she describes her goal as sharing her “experience of being a sibling of someone with high support needs.” Because Rob is minimally speaking he doesn’t have his own voice in the story though Gina represents him empathically. The simple cartoon-style illustrations in a vibrant color palette quietly pay artistic tribute to some classics of comic style. The author’s note which includes family photos mentions the author’s adult diagnosis of autism demonstrating her insider’s view of the subject.

It’s 1960 and Ormond Basil has mostly retired from the screen to live peacefully in Antibes on the French Riviera but he still enjoys an excuse to travel and indulge himself with some shopping. As so often happens among expatriate communities his travels reunite him with an old friend Pietro Malerba a movie producer and his inamorata Najat Farjallah a fading opera diva. The three are stranded on the small island of Utakos by a storm when a fellow guest of their hotel is found dead in a beach cabana a probable death by suicide. There are details however that hint at foul play—the fact that there was only one set of footprints in the sand; a clean threshold; an anomaly with the rope—and so the proprietress and the other guests turn to Basil who famously portrayed Sherlock Holmes in a number of earlier movies. Together with his Dr. Watson figure a Spanish mystery writer named Francisco Foxá Basil leans into the role drawing on his excellent knowledge of Arthur Conan Doyle as well as his own experiences inhabiting the most famous British detective. As he deduces and observes alludes and concludes everyone begins to treat him more and more like a real detective—including the murderer who not only strikes again but leaves taunting clues to draw him in. The novel’s tone is clever and entertaining but also somewhat melancholy poignant—a reflection on a time gone by a generation now passed. This version of Holmes has a weary dignity a wry sense of self-awareness—he wants to stretch out the farce as long as possible rather than “return to melancholy afternoons of tedium and fog”—but Pérez-Reverte doesn’t hesitate to comment on places Basil falls short of the legend whom he both admires and resents while cheekily dropping names like shiny coins.

Ever since Emlyn accidentally opened connections between the spheres in the series opener she’s known she’d have to be the one to put things back to rights. This is no easy task for her and her Novem because one of their members Laramie is missing in the storyworlds. Laramie is accompanied by Frank an injured wyvern who needs to get home for the sake of her health. Meanwhile Camille Emlyn’s sister finds herself held captive as bait in one of the spheres. Working together Emlyn and her team must break the bridges between worlds in order to build new pathways and set the stories straight. With such high stakes failure isn’t an option. As readers dive back into the world of Rivenlea they’re welcomed by familiar characters who help ground them as the action immediately picks up. Since there’s little recap of previous events readers must be familiar with the earlier book to fully appreciate this one. The well-crafted worldbuilding details and thoughtfully laid out plot points combine to produce an entertaining story. The use of multiple perspectives and a layered narrative structure guides readers through the various reimagined storyworlds. Franklin’s effective use of foreshadowing creates an engaging experience that will particularly resonate with readers who are familiar with the classic stories she draws upon. The central cast presents white.

At 33 Amandine has never been on a real date. Since her parents died she’s been living in her childhood home constantly doomscrolling and unable to retain a job due to her undiagnosed neurodiversity. Thirty-year-old Connor is unemployed living with his father and still dealing with the emotional trauma from his mother’s abuse and abandonment. After weeks of texting they finally meet at a local gastropub. However Amandine is unsettled by the only other patron there a greasy-ponytailed middle-aged man wearing a wrinkled tuxedo and slurping down a bowl of tomato soup. Besides a few rocky moments the date goes very well—until Amandine and Connor are alone in the parking lot phones dead forced to walk several miles home. They get less than a mile down the road before Amandine’s heels and the arctic chill incapacitate them and Connor negotiates with a passing car for a ride. Amandine reluctantly allows Connor to coax her into the car only to realize too late that the driver is the Lone Diner from earlier. What follows is a harrowing tale of kidnapping and brutality as Amandine and Connor battle to survive. Amor’s prose is unnerving with plenty of grotesque imagery that will keep readers hooked and disturbed. Told from the perspectives of Amandine Connor and the Lone Diner the book allows readers to experience both the horror of the victims and the warped mindset of the predator. Amandine’s descriptions of daily life as a neurodivergent person ring true such as when she describes dealing with executive dysfunction: “On the really bad days I can’t even dress myself wash my hair brush my teeth.” The unexpected ending may divide readers but they’ll be riveted from beginning to end.

Opal is hoping to track down more information about a woman whose photo appeared in a clipping from the notable African American newspaper the Chicago Defender. Her name was Maude Watson and she was an agent who disappeared in 1905; Opal believes she may be a long-lost relative. Trying to crack codes and ciphers left by Maude puts all her skills to the test and she must rely on her friends and parents for help. Before long she also finds herself entangled in exposing a possible bird-smuggling ring: Blizzard an unusual bird belonging to Piper the sister of Opal’s former bully Jake was taken from her birdcage. Opal lives with retinitis pigmentosa a degenerative eye condition but she refuses to let it stop her sleuthing. She makes use of her trusty cane Pinkerton and the app designed by her mother for identifying items in low-light conditions. Thurman’s writing is witty and humorous but she also addresses forgotten history and serious topics like bullying and self-doubt. The story moves at a brisk pace keeping the momentum going as clues surface and puzzles come together. Themes of forgiveness and collaboration emerge as Opal navigates her complicated feelings toward Jake while also experiencing moments of longing for Meme Augustine her beloved grandmother who lives in New Orleans.

Many books have examined the history of the Enlightenment and the fascination of its foremost exponents with classification schemes of all kinds: An entire academic subindustry in that regard surrounds the work of Michel Foucault. Wesleyan University scholar Curran extends his history two centuries earlier into the French 17th century and the promulgation by King Louis XIV of the Code Noir or “Black Code” a set of laws for use in governing France’s Caribbean colonies and its scores of thousands of enslaved people. Those laws were not just about keeping the enslaved under control writes Curran: They built on an anthropological theory that “advanced” races especially the French had a duty to govern and civilize the ostensibly degenerate nonwhite rest. More than that Curran adds Louis also wanted to become “Europe’s foremost Catholic monarch” and for this he needed a rigidly ordered Catholic population whether born so or forced to convert. From travelers such as François Bernier who was “fascinated by the different types (and colors) of humans he encountered” during a 13-year sojourn in Asia and scientists such as Carl Linnaeus and Georges-Louis Leclerc the count Buffon Enlightenment thinkers such as David Hume built schemata to explain national character. These became ever more hierarchical in time such that in Hume’s words “there scarcely ever was a civilized nation of any other complexion than white nor even any individual eminent either in action or speculation.” Although it could have been extended even further to account for the later prevalence of social Darwinism and the proto-Nazism of Arthur de Gobineau Curran’s long but fluent narrative closes with Thomas Jefferson who “accepted the racialization of humanity” even while recognizing the fundamental injustice of slavery.

In the Kingdom of Kwa 17-year-old Moremi excels at sensing the dragon goddess Yida’s idan. But her lack of piety disappoints her mother who’s the principal iyalawo or priestess of Yida. By contrast her best friend Nox son of the chief babalawo or priest of dragon god Dam is so pious that he’s likely to be pledged to Dam at the coming Dírágónì ceremony. After she’s unexpectedly forced to pledge Moremi is confused when both gods mark her something that shouldn’t happen. Still more shocking the king believing himself to be the chosen one attempts to overthrow the gods while his co-conspirator Addaf unleashes the life-sucking emi buburu upon them. Angered and injured the gods retreat and Moremi Nox and Moremi’s bully Zaye flee the chaos with Addaf in hot pursuit. Guided only by the dragons’ addictive idan the trio have five days to find the dragon gods and complete the cleansing ceremony—or the world will be destroyed. The rich vibrant setting and intriguing magic system pull from West African religious traditions and mythology (Addaf is the lone white character in an otherwise Black cast). Unfortunately the characters and their motivations are underdeveloped. The fast-paced scenes are compelling but the quieter moments feel aimless eroding the story’s emotional impact.

What if the best way to get better at something was simply to measure your progress every day? According to the authors the secret to self-improvement is self-measurement. “By tracking even the smallest things you want to change you’ll create a road map for progress one step at a time” they write. “It’ll take two minutes a day cost you absolutely nothing and help you get better at almost anything.” That’s the theory behind Goldsmith’s Daily Questions a practice he began to check in with himself—and his goals—once each day to assess his progress and make alterations when necessary. He has since shared the practice with many of his successful clients. Citing self-improvement experts like Marcus Aurelius and Benjamin Franklin the authors argue that future perfection matters less than tangible progress today and tomorrow. But the Daily Questions are harder than they may seem at first and not simply because they require sticking to a routine. It can be tough to confront oneself with one’s progress—or lack thereof—every day but that’s part of the point. In this slim volume Broderick and Goldsmith explain their program and help the reader develop and implement their Daily Questions to put them on the path toward measuring and achieving their goals. Questions can be as simple as “Did I do my best to clarify my expectations today?” or “Did I do my best to stay aligned with my goals?” Broderick who narrates the book while incorporating Goldsmith’s ideas presents the program in concise prose with plenty of prescriptive instructions to get readers on their way. The book concludes with a 14-day Daily Questions journal featuring some widely applicable prompts as well as spaces for the reader to fill in questions of their own. Those looking to take a small step toward a big goal will find encouragement here.

In 1558 10-year-old Bianca Capello watches helplessly as her mother dies from malaria. Prevented by her aunts from administering any of the experimental cures for malaria her mother had been working on Bianca vows to take up her mother’s work. In an annex of her father’s palace Bianca secretly begins to develop medicines based upon her mother’s belief in the healing powers of artemisia a flowering wormwood plant. At 15 Bianca finds herself employed in the Sick House run by nuns hoping to test out her fledgling “cures.” But when her father learns of her work he locks her up in his country estate. With the aid of her servant she meets Piero a young clerk for the Salviati bank in Florence. Florence is Medici territory and the family is known to practice alchemy the very skill Bianca needs to purify her plants for medicinal use. Piero is her ticket out of Venice even if it means she must marry him. In Florence she meets Francesco I de’ Medici heir to the grand duke of Tuscany. This meeting proves to be the beginning of a grand love affair that survives her marriage to Piero as well as Francesco’s later marriage into Habsburg royalty. Although Berardi’s novel is centered mostly on the scandalous relationship between Bianca and Francesco the real story here is Bianca’s relentless efforts to find a cure for malaria. She’s depicted as an independent woman willing to stand up to the male establishment at all costs. Her deepest passion is for her “science” a word repeated with exhausting frequency throughout the narrative. However Berardi also fills her tale with fascinating historical nuggets about the Medici family noting the unusual number of family deaths due to arsenic poisoning. The author meticulously tracks Bianca’s experiments from the way she grows her artemisia and various herbs to her preparations and delivery of her potions to those desperate enough to try her untested mixtures.