Gabino Iglesias

Daniel Black's essays call for an overhaul of the U.S. criminal justice system, of the Black church, of the way Black people see themselves, and of the country itself — and do so with authority

Grady Hendrix's tale of siblings who come together after the deaths of their parents to sell their house fully embraces all the elements readers have come to love about Hendrix's storytelling.

Hermetic, paranoid, sleek, dark — and with brief explosions of the sex and violence that have characterized Ellis' oeuvre — The Shards is a stark reminder that the author is a genre unto himself.

Visually striking — NatGeo and superb photography have always walked hand-in-hand — and incredibly complete, deep and nuanced, this is a book that comes close to the impossible.

Luda is a magical, multilayered, intoxicating story about identity, stardom, performance, lust, and death that could only have come from the prodigious mind of Grant Morrison.

Javier Zamora's book, as touching as it is sad, and as full of hope and kindness as it is harrowing, is the kind of narrative that manages to bring a huge debate down to a very personal space.

E. Lockhart's prequel to We Were Liars works perfectly well, too, as a standalone coming-of-age novel about grief, addiction, young love, and learning to navigate the world.

Most humans walk around feeling like they know what reality is, but the message at the core of Dr. Guy Leschziner's book is that all sensory information we receive is intrinsically ambiguous.

Reading about plagues or COVID-19 over the last two years was not an entertaining idea for many. But the pandemic has had an impact on literature — and people may be ready for it to enter the canon.

Hanya Yanagihara worked three centuries of imagination into this novel — undoubtedly an achievement. But the onslaught of details and stories muddle the narrative, weighing on the reading experience.