Bessel Van Der Kolk, THE BODY KEEPS THE SCORE: BRAIN, MIND, AND BODY IN THE HEALING OF TRAUMA

In 1980, the author, a psychiatrist at the Boston VA clinic, submitted a grant to examine the effect of PTSD on veterans, and the first line of the grant rejection read: "It has never been shown that PTSD is relevant to the mission of the Veterans Administration." (!!!) When it comes to understanding trauma, we've come a long way. This (nonfiction) book reflects on the history of trauma studies and describes contemporary neuroscience and treatments. It has a lot to offer both writers (with respect to developing backstory for characters) and the general reader--not least of which is understanding some of what's going on in our brains (Broca's area, which controls language, and the amygdala and PFC) with current levels of stress. This book also took me back to my dissertation days, when I would often get the academic version of eye-roll from people when I tried to explain (probably poorly) that I was writing about trauma as an explanatory narrative that began with Victorian railway crashes. To my quiet delight, this author opines that trauma studies began with the work of medical men such as John Erichsen writing about railway disaster victims in the 1870s in England. Well-written and accessible.

Mary Beth Keane, ASK AGAIN, YES

A beautifully written novel about two families who are next door neighbors in a small town outside NYC. Both fathers are policemen; but otherwise the families are very different. This book touches on mental illness, alcoholism, denial, dysfunction, young (clueless) love, mature love, parenthood, aging, and forgiveness. I read this immediately after Ann Patchett's THE DUTCH HOUSE and found similarities in themes and tone, in the shifts between scenes and synopsis (the books both cover decades), and the wonderful quality of writing. These are not plot-driven page-turners. They are nuanced explorations of how individuals and families evolve and get stuck, err and atone. As usual, I like to share a few lines that suggest the quality of writing: "They were apart long enough to know the shape of each other's absence." "Francis smiled but there was no light in it." And my favorite (maybe because it expresses the theme of how memories change, which is at the core of my own most recent novel) "They'd both learned that a memory is a fact that's been dyed and trimmed and rinsed so many times that it comes out looking almost unrecognizable to anyone else who was in that room, anyone else who was standing on the grass beneath that telephone pole." Recommended for fans of Ann Patchett, Celeste Ng, and Anne Tyler.

Ann Patchett, THE DUTCH HOUSE

This is my favorite of Ann Patchett's books. It's a book to savor, with writing that sings and soars. I won't explain the plot as it would reduce this story to a series of events in a dysfunctional family--and that's not the point. The two main characters--the narrator Danny and his bold, hurting sister Maeve--are a pair united against the world who, despite their closeness, still hold different memories of events. As an adult, Danny repeats the mistake of his father at times--for example, marrying a woman and then buying a house for her that she doesn't want. But he grows wise and thoughtful, and his reflections on his sister and their past suggest the sort of psychological layering and evolution that are pure pleasure to behold in a novel. Masterful. Highly recommend.

Tommy Orange, THERE THERE

A powerfully written book about the Native American (or Native Indian, both terms are used) experience in Oakland, California. Because it is told from the POV of many characters, sometimes in first-person, sometimes in third-person, it portrays collectively the systemic effects of alcoholism, addiction, violence, and brutal historical loss. I found myself bracing for the train wreck that happens despite best intentions. The writing is often poetic, spare, lovely. Words taken out of context are never as powerful, but here are a few of my favorite lines: "A breeze came in and it felt like my arms and back were being scraped by it"; "it was something Dene had seen in his mom's eyes, something that looked like remembering and dreading at once"; "He was twelve. It was November, so it was easy to find Indians on TV"; "But inside every kind of sound lurked a sadness. In the quiet between your parents, after a fight they both managed to lose." Highly recommend.

Janelle Brown, PRETTY THINGS

I don't always love thrillers, but this one caught my interest and kept me reading for hours one day ... neglecting chores and refusing to cook dinner. It's a twined tale, told in two alternating voices, of Nina, the daughter of a grifter mom and Vanessa, born into a life of enormous privilege. Their lives intersect when they are both teens, and both come away from those years with a sense of having been terribly wronged by the other person's family. Years later, their lives intersect again.

What sets this book apart from some thrillers is the elegant, economical writing and the acute attention to the emotional life of the characters. These women are messy, ambivalent, troubled, and disillusioned, but they are also capable of reflection and growth. The themes running through are very current--the addictive quality of social media, the problems our young adults face when they get out of college with heaps of debt, and our desire for connecting meaningfully with new people when an identity is something that can be forged on the web. I think this book would please readers who loved THE GIRL ON THE TRAIN, but it would also satisfy readers who liked LITTLE FIRES EVERYWHERE and the Broadway musical WICKED. It is a tale of family dysfunction but also a story about women learning to be strong in the broken places.

Lori Gottlieb, MAYBE YOU SHOULD TALK TO SOMEONE

Insightful, compassionate, and engagingly written, this is a memoir of a woman who is both in therapy for herself and providing therapy to her patients in Los Angeles. For me, the book recalled the years I spent in therapy in New York, when I was in graduate school in my early thirties, with so much to learn about my own misbegotten assumptions and poor communication and coping skills. Much of this material felt familiar--the role of the therapist, the process of corrective experiences that help us to question our assumptions, discovering the space after an "event" and before a "response" in which choices are made, and identifying the ways we sublimate, repress and misdirect our feelings. But despite having seen much of this up close for myself, I enjoyed spending two days (it's a quick read, with short, economically written chapters) in this woman's mind.

Hilary Mantel, WOLF HALL

This is a bold and ambitious novel that took me 3 tries to read--but I'm glad I tried that third time. I've seen other reviews that mention how difficult it is to read. Part of the difficulty, I think, is that the book is written in the third person ("he") but focalized almost exclusively through Cromwell (as in, the camera is on his shoulder and the narrative voice is like Cromwell's speaking voice--wry and shrewdly observant, laced with zeugma and understatement). At times this creates some peculiar grammar. For example, Mantel uses the pronoun "he" to refer to both Cromwell and King Henry, or both Cromwell and Thomas More in the same sentence. But once I became used to having to reread paragraphs to figure out which "he" was saying or doing what, I was drawn wholly into the story. Mantel's world building is as complete and elaborate as (dare I say) Rowling's for Harry Potter--and Mantel's breadth of knowledge is awe-inspiring. Yet because Cromwell's subjectivity is so complete, and the events are always filtered through his sensibilities, I never felt I was being served a history lesson. If you've watched THE TUDORS, you'll find all the echoes of vengeance and desire and willfulness and conniving. I'll read the next.