Summers have always been the most satisfying time for me to find a quiet corner and curl up with a good book to read.
Living in a small town in upstate New York, winters are long stretches of sunless, bleak months, without many activities to explore (if you’re a solitary homebody like me).
I loved reading as a child, adolescent, and well into adulthood. Something about getting lost in far-flung places without leaving my house was attractive. I realized that the five months of the year, when everything around me was dormant and encased in ice and snow, the fantasy world between pages of books was eye-opening and extraordinary—and just plain fun. I could not wait to get back to reading when I was away from it.
I explored many different narratives, avenues, and circumstances through books written from the perspective of other artists, mostly crime fiction and horror stories. A vivid childhood memory that reappears from time to time is of my younger self, turning pages in a book during school nights, under the covers, reading into the wee hours, a flashlight at hand.
The sheer pleasure of discovering worlds different than mine has always been a cherished experience connecting me to others, exploring new life, and keeping my mind sharp.
I am always searching for a new book to crack open and learn something new from. I have suggested three of my favorite books in the last few years.
Crime fiction has been one of my preferred field to discover, which brings me to Edwin Hill’s stunning new domestic thriller, “Who to Believe,” which centers on a small community of farmers and whalers surrounded by rugged coastlines and dark country back roads. It is a peaceful community with its fair share of quirky and shady residents who hold sinister surprises.
When a murder rocks the quiet coastal New England town, an exploration of small-town secrets surfaces, pitting neighbor against neighbor and friend versus friend.
It is a slow-burn whodunit that builds into a nail-biting, complex tale of intrigue. It stays with you even after the last page.
Horror, when written well, should stimulate and scare; it should ask questions, provoke ideas, create conversation, and take you on an emotional journey.
A working example: Josh Malerman, best known for his apocalyptic near-future horror novel, “Bird Box,” and its stunningly creepy sequel, “Malorie,” returns with an equally terrifying story in “Goblin.”
Cleverly written, the novel-length book is told in six edge-of-your-seat novellas. Eventually, all the stand-alone chapters connect, bringing together interwoven horror tales of the unexplainable.
The first chapter has a man transporting a box filled with unknown contents. He receives strict directions: do not look inside the box until you reach your destination. En route, he hears strange sounds coming from the package. He stops and pulls over to the shoulder of the road to investigate.
He can’t bear it the third time, so he opens the back door of his truck, crawls inside the cab, and examines the overturned opened box! Bugs are crawling everywhere inside the container. But something is crouched in the dark compartment of the truck. Glowing white eyes stare back at him.
“Something is out there …”
From the vintage, worn-looking dust jacket to the atmospheric, moody, and macabre creation of tight-knit community horror much like Stephen King’s “Salem’s Lot,” and Ray Bradbury’s “Something Wicked This Way Comes,” Malerman’s “Goblin” is a triumph of good old-fashioned horror that will keep the reader immersed for hours and the story will linger in the imagination for days later.
On a personal note, delving into narratives peopled with LGBTQ+ issues enrich my reading experiences. In Edward Cahill’s “Disorderly Men,” a winner of the 2023 Best Indie Book Award, LGBTQ2 Fiction, Cahill sets his novel in the 1960s. It takes place at a pre-Stonewall-era Greenwich Village gay bar, as the narrative centers on the lives of three gay men during a police raid.
Roger Moorhouse, a Wall Street banker; Julian Price, a Columbia literature professor living an uncloseted life; and Danny Duffy, an Irish kid heavily opinionated with a troubled past, disowned from his family while living in the Bronx, finds himself in deep waters.
The three men find their lives crashing down around them when they are arrested and thrown into the back of a police wagon, their lives threatened and revealed. The stakes are high for all of them as their real lives are exposed to family, friends, and the entire world—a riveting literary work of fiction and demographic study of the LGBTQ+ community, told in a different but viable era.
As winter creeps along in your corner of the world, stay calm and find a quiet place to unwind with a good book, whatever your preference.
Just read.
Thomas Grant Bruso is a Plattsburgh resident who writes fiction and has been an avid reader of genre fiction since he was a kid. Readers and writers are invited to connect and discuss books and writing at www.facebook.com/thomasgrantbruso