What to Read in May
I think we’ll wait a month to come out with our summer reading list, though that may be a mistake. Look for that in a few weeks. For now, we’ll wrap up the school year and the more-unpredictable weather with Mother’s Day suggestions and a number of books-to-movies and books-to-series.

We’re gaining on halfway through the year (okay, a third), and there have been some books that I have noticed simply everywhere. I won’t list them all here, partly because they have largely been on my recommendations lists. But I will mention a few.

A Court of Thorns and Roses, Sarah J. Maas. I hear about “ACOTAR” everywhere, and I think it’s time to start the series if you haven’t already. My plan is to read this fantasy series before her also-super-trendy Throne of Glass series. The bookstore I am in most has a hard time keeping copies of these on the shelf. Like seriously, they are always selling out.

Tom Lake, Ann Patchett. This was one of the most celebrated books of 2023, and I still hear about it and see it around all the time. I’m pretty sure every book club will get to it, eventually.
The Travel Book and Epic Hikes of the Americas, Lonely Planet. It might be where I sit for book clubs in bookstores that keeps drawing my eyes to these books, but they look like amazing coffee-table books for travelers, or just travel-dreamers.



Have a Beautiful, Terrible Day, Kate Bowler. Like Chicken Soup for the Soul, but I’m guessing a lot edgier and more up-to-date. People are loving this book of insight.

Book-related jigsaw puzzles, of which I am mainly thinking of Ridley’s 50 Must-Read Books Bucket List (also a Travel Destinations and 50 Must-Watch Movies) and Bibliophile’s Banned Books. There are also many other options out there.
As for Mother’s Day, I went with titles I haven’t yet read, maybe thinking of myself on Mother’s Day and what I would like to be reading. I pulled several of these ideas from my own online search of Mother’s Day reads and suggestions from other articles and Google. The first two are mom-themed. The others? Not so much, but they cover some different genres for different moms:









I keep hearing and seeing ads for the new The Sympathizer limited streaming series (Max) that has already started to drop (and continues once a week). I have been meaning to read this Pulitzer novel (Viet Thanh Nguyen), so maybe this is the moment. Though some books are okay to skip and go straight to the movie (like, ahem, the Bridgerton series), some I will make sure I read first. (By the way, most of these series below get crazy-great reviews.) Speaking of books-to-movies and books-to-series:






























This month, we’ll see a number of publications in plenty of time for summer reading. Here are a few of the most-anticipated of them:






So, I am still in six book clubs, but only for one more month (because I already bought the books before I decided which two I was going to quit, though one club isn’t meeting this month, so there’s that too). Also, I am temporarily joining one group because it’s “up at the corner” and I was already aiming to read the book soon. Here’s what I’ll definitely be reading this month:








And my son will be reading Born a Crime by Trevor Noah for school. I loved that book and I hope he’ll discuss it with me.

Yikes. I had a bit of a slump month. Actually, month and a half. These are the only two books that I read that I could possibly include on a list of “bests”:

A Good Man Is Hard to Find, Flannery O’Connor, which I was just drooling over for it’s clarity, cleanness, style, innovation and trend-setting… but was dying inside due to its content. I mean, if you’ve read O’Connor—which many of you have—you’ll understand. It’s bleak stuff. Difficult stuff. Tons of satire where no one in her world is safe from skewering.

Hell, I Love Everybody by James Tate is a book of poetry, which means some of you are already out. It’s actually a carefully-curated, posthumous volume of his work, its slimness not giving away how many hundreds of poems he had published during his lifetime. It’s absurdist (and therefore often metaphorical or just beyond straight comprehension) and sometimes funny and probably meant to be enjoyed without having to rip it apart for meaning, too much.