It was the best of years and the worst of years. My crazy dream is one step closer to reality— I signed with a fabulous literary agent and sold my novel to the world’s biggest publisher in 2016. But someone I love died unexpectedly, the world still seethes in a stew of self-inflicted turmoil, and of course, there was the election process, which did not exactly showcase democracy at its finest. IMHO. Which brings me to the bewitching thing about reading: it allows you to escap

I LOVED this book. I was therefore mystified when I looked it up on Goodreads and discovered a whole lot of people trashing it with the same vigor you’d expect of someone denouncing the prose in 50 Shades of Grey. It is dawning on me that after my own book comes out, I will never be able to go on Goodreads or Amazon again, because I certainly will not handle it. Based on the vehemence with which people tore this book to shreds, you’d think it had been written by Satan: the wo

This is not a book afraid of a little raunch. Or a lot of raunch, actually. I had no idea what it was about when I downloaded it—I do that sometimes, and usually it works out— but this surprised me. Here’s the basic premise: three flailing millennial New Yorkers stumble upon a magic potion that transforms them into stunning, supermodel-ish physical perfection. Reading it, I thought maybe it would enhance their current appearance, wiping out their blemishes and smoothing over

I enjoyed The Circle right from the first few pages. Mae Holland is a millennial drudge, working at a public utility company that’s about as innovative as a rotary phone. Her boss, a mustachioed cliché of loser middle-management types, says things like “This is my protégé, Mae. She’s pretty sharp, most days,” and “If she doesn’t get in her own way, she has a bright future ahead of her here,” despite the fact that Mae would rather set her hair on fire than progress through th