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Mystery & SuspenseMystery

The Really Dead Wives of New Jersey

Review by Lauren Emily Whalen

Everyone loves a housewife; housewife here meaning not the barefoot and pregnant archetype, but a girlboss with hair extensions, implants and a whole lot of attitude who’s always willing to tussle with her “friends” for an audience of millions. But what happens when a reluctant housewife ends up dead—and she’s only the first casualty of the new season? Astrid Dahl’s The Really Dead Wives of New Jersey effectively straddles the line between dark humor and suspense, following multiple characters in front of and behind the camera as they reckon with a murderer in their spray-tanned, Botoxed midst.

Garden State Goddesses is Huzzah Network’s third most popular reality show, but, as always, the real drama is behind the scenes. Showrunner Eden has her sights on greener pastures so she can finally move out of Hoboken, New Jersey: It only takes a little finagling to bring her naive cousin Hope out of a fundamentalist California commune and into the on-camera fold to boost ratings. Meanwhile, newlywed (and newly wealthy) Hope is a fish out of water among her over-the-top costars: bisexual single mom Renee, nail salon maven and self-proclaimed “Italian supremacist” Carmela, and Carmela’s bonehead of a best friend Valerie, who’s also Hope’s sister-in-law. But when a lethal cocktail leaves one of the housewives dead—and the bodies keep dropping—Eden and the Goddesses cast and crew must crack the case, or risk cancellation of the show . . . and their lives.

Astrid Dahl is the creation of author Anna Dorn: According to Dahl’s cheeky bio, she’s the “star” of Dorn’s Perfume and Pain, a novel that’s also dark, hilarious and campy. Dahl/Dorn has crafted an exceedingly colorful cast of characters, especially Goddesses regular Birdie, a dowager of indeterminate age and bottomless wealth who just can’t seem to stay sober (much to viewers’ delight), and Birdie’s adult son and assistant, Pierre, who loves horses as much as he loathes housewives. The Really Dead Wives of New Jersey shines bright in its love for soap opera-style reality TV, where manicured nails are sharp and verbal barbs over Prosecco-fueled lunch dates even sharper. Pour a healthy glass of white wine—who cares if it’s only 2 p.m.?—don your finest faux fur and get ready for a bumpy but fabulous ride through New Jersey’s toniest, deadliest suburb.

Astrid Dahl’s The Really Dead Wives of New Jersey, a murder mystery set on a Housewives-style reality show, effectively straddles the line between dark humor and genuine suspense.
Children's & YAYA FictionYA

The Queen’s Spade

Review by Tami Orendain

Sarah, nicknamed Sally, is everything British society expects her to be: a polite, respectable, beautiful lady. An Egbado princess whom Queen Victoria claimed as a goddaughter, at 19 years old, Sally has learned to play the game of propriety and appearances. But it’s all in an effort to achieve her real goal: revenge against everyone who was involved with her violent removal from her homeland.

The Queen’s Spade blends fact and fiction to expand upon the heart-pounding history of Sarah Forbes Bonetta, a real historical figure. In 1862 England, amidst fraught discussions between the aristocracy about colonialism and abolition, Sally carefully makes her moves against a society that both adores and others her—one that traps everyone in webs of lies and betrayal, even those at the very top.

Intelligent and intuitive, Sally knows how to use status to her advantage. Other characters admire or envy her privileges, which include favor from the Queen, familiarity with the royal family, and financial and social support. But readers are granted a glimpse into Sally’s mind, where she feels the trauma and terror of having been ripped from her home and forced to adopt an entirely different culture, while her history as a member of the Yoruba tribe is belittled and erased.

As Sally navigates a cultural, social and economic landscape full of contradictions and double standards, The Queen’s Spade becomes an intense battle of wits. How can Sally use her environment to her advantage? What role will others play in her plan? From Rui, the mysterious leader of an underground network, to Harriet, a high-born courtier who anxiously lives in the shadow of her heritage, to Bertie, the cheeky and foolish prince, Sally is surrounded by people around whom she must maneuver to achieve her revenge. What are everyone’s motives, and who can she really trust? And, perhaps, most importantly: What is she willing to pay to achieve her revenge?

The Queen’s Spade introduces readers to an incredible true story and broadens it into a powerful tale that readers seeking historical fiction and high-stakes mystery are sure to enjoy.

The Queen’s Spade introduces readers to the incredible story of Sarah Forbes Bonetta and broadens it into a powerful tale that readers seeking historical fiction and high-stakes mystery are sure to enjoy.
NonfictionHistoryBlack History

The Containment

Review by Deborah Hopkinson

For civil rights attorney and legal scholar Michelle Adams, the story of the fight to desegregate schools in metropolitan Detroit in the 1960s and early 1970s is personal. Born and raised in the city, she was introduced to the law early: Her father was one of only two Black graduates from the Detroit College of Law in 1957. She is now the Henry M. Butzel Professor of Law at the University of Michigan and has been an expert law commentator for documentaries about the Constitution and the Supreme Court. 

As readers of The Containment: Detroit, the Supreme Court, and the Battle for Racial Justice in the North will discover, Adams is also a consummate storyteller with an in-depth understanding of her subject. She deftly illuminates the complex history and significance of the 1974 Supreme Court case Milliken v. Bradley, in which the court overturned a lower court ruling that had approved the desegregation of schools not only in urban Detroit, but in 53 districts throughout the wider metropolitan area. The higher court determined that the segregation that existed in suburban neighborhoods did not warrant the redrawing of school district lines to achieve integration because no intentional discriminatory acts by the districts could be proven. Adams effectively demonstrates that this decision put a stop to a visionary, holistic approach to integration—an approach that might have served as a model throughout the North. 

The prologue opens in 2006, when Adams attended oral arguments at the Supreme Court, having filed an amicus curiae brief to support a Seattle school desegregation case (which ultimately failed). Some of the issues raised in that case, especially the question of how discriminative policies in housing and neighborhoods impact schools, made her think again of Milliken v. Bradley, a case she had often taught. She reflects on the many ways in which the promise of Brown v. Board of Education, which asserted that separate facilities cannot be equal, has largely been unfulfilled. Instead, policies and practices keep Black families contained in neighborhoods served by failing schools.

Adams’ riveting narrative sweeps readers into the effort to challenge Detroit’s separate and unequal school system in the 1960s and early 1970s. She digs deep to tell the story about a creative, hard-fought attempt at metropolitan desegregation, recounting how the court’s decision impacted the city, the activists and even the district judge who presided over Milliken v. Bradley in Michigan. 

While The Containment reads at times like a legal thriller, Adams never loses sight of providing readers with broader historical context and what the failure of Milliken v. Bradley means for Americans today. Nevertheless, Adams is not without hope for the future. She concludes, “In 1974, the U.S. Supreme Court took us down the wrong path. But we can still choose another.”

Reading at times like a legal thriller, Michelle Adams’ The Containment sweeps readers into the effort to challenge Detroit’s separate and unequal school system.
Children's & YAPicture BookChildren's

No Purchase Necessary

Review by Linda M. Castellitto

Throughout Ajay Anthonipillai’s life thus far, he’s dutifully adhered to his Sri Lankan parents’ rules. Their 16-item list, displayed at the end of Maria Marianayagam’s winning and inventive No Purchase Necessary, includes things like “Straight As only,” “No friendships with the opposite sex” and “No working while you’re in school.”

Alas, ever since Ajay started eighth grade at Bridge Creek Middle School, he’s been struggling. At his previous school, kids called him “Obnoxious Ajay” because of his relentless academic competitiveness. Now that he’s grown up a bit, he’s more interested in making friends than viewing classmates as rivals, but he’s unsure how to go about it. So, when popular bully Jacob Underson hints they’ll become buddies if Ajay steals a Mercury bar from Al’s convenience store, Ajay shocks himself by actually doing it . . . only for Jacob to laughingly reject his offering, leaving him defeated and guilty. “How was this my life? What made me so unlikable? This year was supposed to be a fresh start.”

Adding to Ajay’s misery, he gets a 79% in language arts class and lies to his parents about it, drawing his sister Aarthi’s disapproval. A classmate, Mandy, seems friendly, but he’s nervous around her, and she gets better language arts grades (old habits die hard). And that chocolate bar, sold during a 25th anniversary promotion? It’s the winner of Mercury’s million-dollar grand prize. But how can he—legally, morally—claim a prize from stolen candy?

Ajay secretly gets a job at Al’s so he can destroy evidence of his crime. But as he gets to know Al while contending with a cascade of ethical dilemmas, his guilt intensifies, not least because his family could really use that money. Is there any way to cash in without betraying everything they’ve worked for?

No Purchase Necessary is an entertaining, thought-provoking read rife with suspenseful twists and turns and well-drawn characters, and enlivened by the witty, appealing voice of its protagonist. Marianayagam perfectly captures the emotional, social and moral minefields of middle school, and will have readers rooting for Ajay to find happiness as he figures out which rules serve him—and which are meant to be broken.

No Purchase Necessary is an entertaining, thought-provoking read rife with suspenseful twists and turns and well-drawn characters, and enlivened by the witty, appealing voice of its protagonist.
FictionLiterary Fiction

Mothers and Sons

Review by Harvey Freedenberg

There are sound reasons that Adam Haslett’s debut short story collection, You Are Not a Stranger Here, and his second novel, Imagine Me Gone, were finalists for the Pulitzer Prize. With Mothers and Sons—a story about the self-inflicted pain of long-buried memories—he demonstrates once again his ability to produce graceful, emotionally affecting fiction whose characters’ struggles seem as real as those of people we know in our own lives.

At the center of Haslett’s novel are Peter Fischer, a New York City immigration lawyer who specializes in representing clients seeking asylum, and his mother, Ann, a former Episcopal priest who abandoned both the church and her husband 20 years earlier to establish a women’s retreat center—a “ministry of hospitality”—in Vermont with her romantic partner, Clare, and her friend Roberta. Peter and Ann’s relationship, even on its best day, is a cool one.

Peter’s stressful but predictable law practice mostly involves representing victims of political violence, and it’s upended when he takes on Vasel Marku, a 21-year-old man from Albania, as a client. Like Peter, Vasel is gay, and his asylum claim is based on his fear that he’ll be persecuted for his homosexuality if he returns to his homeland. As Peter struggles to persuade a reluctant Vasel to help him gather the evidence Vasel will need to secure a judge’s permission to remain in the United States, his client’s predicament surfaces Peter’s painful memories of his own attraction to a charismatic fellow high school student, Jared Hanlan, and its tragic end two decades earlier.

Deliberately, and with consummate skill, Haslett braids these stories until, in the final third of the novel, he reveals the devastating event that lies at the heart of the emotional gulf Ann and Peter must span. Though it anchors the book, theirs is not the only story of maternal love he explores, layering depth and complexity over an already rich novel and illuminating its plural title. Haslett’s prose is simultaneously efficient and evocative, so that the pleasures of this touching novel extend well beyond those that flow from engaging with a psychologically astute and well-told story. In his capable hands, Mothers and Sons is an exemplar of realist fiction.

Read our Q&A with Adam Haslett about Mothers and Sons.

Mothers and Sons is a touching story about the self-inflicted pain of long-buried memories, once again demonstrating Adam Haslett’s ability to produce graceful, emotionally affecting realist fiction.
Children's & YAYA FictionYA

Honeysuckle and Bone

Review by Linda M. Castellitto

In debut author Trisha Tobias’ Honeysuckle and Bone, 18-year-old New Yorker Carina Marshall is determined to make a fresh start, having recently experienced an upsetting series of events that culminated in the death of her best friend, Joy; her other friends’ subsequent abandonment of her; and an onslaught of online hate. Awash in guilt and shame, Carina decides a summer au pair job in a gorgeous place is just the thing to help her move on.

Sure, the gig is in Jamaica, her mother’s homeland, which she has forbidden Carina to visit. And yes, the job was actually Joy’s, but since she didn’t meet her soon-to-be employer in person, it’ll be easy for Carina to replace her. What could go wrong?

Well, as any fan of eerie, suspenseful tales knows, plenty—and Honeysuckle and Bone is all the better for it. Carina’s new job at opulent Blackbead House entails caring for Jada and Luis, the younger children of brusqueIan Hall, currently running for prime minister, and his regal wife, Ruth. Carina’s coworkers, who call themselves the Young Birds, are friendly, but a couple of them seem to be hiding secrets of their own as they tend to Blackbead, work fancy campaign events and have fun in between.

Despite her busy days and posh surroundings, Carina begins to feel more and more uneasy. A “strong and sweet” floral scent that “sends heat through [her]” plagues her, and someone—or something—has been leaving her messages that simply, ominously, say “Run.” Despite her handsome, attentive coworker Aaron’s efforts to help her figure out what’s happening, Carina can’t escape the dread she feels as she struggles to discern what is real or imagined, felt or seen. Readers who enjoy twisted thrillers in bright tropical settings will revel in Honeysuckle and Bone’s exploration of the contrast between glittery surfaces and the secrets buried beneath them, between people who live life openly and those haunted by what they have to hide.

Readers who enjoy twisted thrillers in bright tropical settings will revel in Honeysuckle and Bone’s exploration of the contrast between glittery surfaces and the secrets buried beneath them.
FictionLiterary FictionDebut Fiction

Going Home

Review by Alice Cary

Téo Erskine is a Londoner in his 30s with an orderly, if somewhat aimless, life. As Tom Lamont writes in his smart, warm-hearted debut, Going Home: “He had been careful to arrange a life in which he could leave obligations at the door of his flat, next to the coins he saved for Ben’s poker nights and his shoes that were comfiest for driving.” Téo’s life is completely upended, however, during a weekend back home in his North London neighborhood. He offers to babysit the toddler son, Joel, of his childhood friend Lia, a single mom for whom he has longed for ages, in hopes that his chivalry might gain him favor. Instead, however, an unimaginable tragedy occurs, and Téo suddenly finds himself Joel’s reluctant, bewildered guardian.

The novel focuses on the ongoing question of Joel’s permanent guardianship while showing how the young boy changes the lives of those in his orbit. There’s Téo, of course, who blunders his way through car seat and nappy issues, wondering, “Was it water you did give small children or never gave them?” Téo’s father, Vic, whose life is now shrinking due to the advancing effects of Parkinson’s disease, quickly becomes smitten with Joel, especially since he himself grew up in an orphanage. Téo leans on his best friend, Ben, for support, but because of Ben’s wealth and self-centeredness, they don’t always see eye to eye—especially after Ben informs Téo that he had a brief fling with Lia. Rounding out this exceedingly well-drawn cast is rabbi Sibyl Challis, who is on probation with her congregation, and questioning her faith in the wake of Lia’s tragedy.

Comparisons to Nick Hornby’s About a Boy are inevitable and well deserved. Going Home overflows with heart, and its characters feel real with their multitude of dreams, fears, serious self-doubts and fierce loyalties. Over the course of a year, Lamont paces events with precision and humor, asking life’s big questions regarding family and friendship, duty and devotion. Going Home marks the debut of a gifted writer whose readers will find themselves feeling better, somehow, about the world.

Going Home marks the debut of a gifted writer whose readers will find themselves feeling better, somehow, about the world.
Children's & YAPicture BookChildren's

Dreamover

Review by Tami Orendain

Amber can’t contain her feelings for Nico any longer. They’ve been best friends for years, and though part of her wishes they could go back to easy conversations, nights playing video games and chill hangouts with friends, she can’t hold back how she really feels. So during their eighth grade beach trip, she confesses—and he says he reciprocates! But as the new couple jumps headfirst into romance, they find that relationships can be complicated, especially when it comes to first loves, changing friendships and, of course, high school.

Dreamover is a charming and surreal exploration of young love set during the early days of the internet, when teenagers still spent their summers at the beach and talked all night over instant messaging. Filled with charming illustrations that emphasize the youthfulness of its characters, this graphic novel brings readers back to the thrill, confusion and emotion of growing up.

In many ways, Dreamover is light and silly. Its characters get into good-hearted mischief, playing games, having sleepovers and teasing each other about their crushes. But the story isn’t afraid to step into the angst and confusion of teenhood, speaking to serious issues like jealousy, bullying and growing apart from old friends. The story centers on characters who are easy to feel for, like Nico, who’s teased for his relationship with Amber, and Drew, who starts feeling left out of their trio as Nico and Amber draw closer together. Readers are bound to see themselves—or their younger selves—in these characters as they ride the waves of love and friendship.

As Nico and Amber see how their relationship impacts other people in their lives, they must learn to decide what they value—and how they can maintain what matters even as the world and the people around them are changing. Perfect for those who are grown up and those who are still growing up, Dreamover is a nostalgic and thought-provoking experience.

Perfect for those who are grown up and those who are still growing up, Dreamover is a nostalgic and thought-provoking experience.
Children's & YAPicture BookChildren's

Dream a Dress, Dream a Poem

Review by Alice Cary

Dream a Dress, Dream a Poem: Dressmaker and Poet, Myra Viola Wilds introduces young readers to Myra Viola Wilds, a Kentucky woman who lived during the Jim Crow era and left her home in the hills for “the city” to become a dressmaker. Eventually, she lost her vision—which the book attributes to eyestrain—and then became a poet. Although biographical details are sparse, Wilds is an admirable, intriguing creator.

Nancy Johnson James tells Wilds’ story in verse, highlighting historical notes in an afterword. She focuses on Wilds’ unending creativity, urging readers to follow her example: “Dream a dream when you struggle, between a painful past and a hopeful tomorrow. Remember when light began to fade, Myra’s art could still be made.”

Diana Ejaita’s fanciful artwork steals the show here. Bold patterns and colors fill each page, reminiscent of Matisse’s splashy shapes. She also uses linework to evoke the weave and intricate stitchwork of the dresses Wilds made. She skillfully introduces the color black into the illustrations to portray Wilds’ descent into blindness.

Dream a Dress, Dream a Poem offers a world of inspiration for young creators of many kinds.

Dream a Dress, Dream a Poem offers a world of inspiration for young creators of many kinds.
FictionSpeculative FictionLiterary Fiction

Death of the Author

Review by Laura Hubbard

Fired from her lackluster job as an adjunct professor of writing, and on the verge of needing to move back in with her parents, Zelu has lost control of her life. Because she’s disinclined to pick up the pieces in a way that will satisfy her family, a Nigerian American dynasty for whom being exceptional is considered merely ordinary, she turns instead back to her writing. What comes out of those dark moments is a piece of science fiction set in the aftermath of humanity’s extinction. Upon publication, the novel captures the entire world’s imagination, quickly becoming a bestseller and almost immediately being optioned as a movie. But the consequences of Zelu’s meteoric rise aren’t all so dreamy. As they ripple out, they change her life forever, causing her to rethink her relationship to her writing, her family and even her own body.

Death of the Author, by acclaimed science fiction writer Nnedi Okorafor (Who Fears Death), is comfortable straddling the line between genres. Okorafor explores the dynamics Zelu experiences as a disabled Nigerian American author from the south suburbs of Chicago, rendering familiar experiences with remarkable specificity, pulling us in so that we understand Zelu’s truth, warts and all. As the book shines on a literary level, so, too, do its science fiction elements. In a metafictional twist, Okorafor peppers in chapters from Zelu’s bestselling novel with increasing frequency as the story progresses. Beyond being interesting in their own right, the chapters give us a lens through which to see Zelu more clearly—and influence the course of her journey. A remarkable exploration of storytelling, fame and the Nigerian American experience, Death of the Author surprises all the way to its brilliant ending.

Read our interview with Nnedi Okorafor about Death of the Author.

A remarkable exploration of storytelling, fame and the Nigerian American experience, acclaimed science fiction writer Nnedi Okorafor’s Death of the Author surprises all the way to its brilliant ending.
Children's & YAMiddle GradeChildren's

We Are Lion Dancers

Review by Linda M. Castellitto

In prolific author-illustrator and Walt Disney animator Benson Shum’s colorful, upbeat new book We Are Lion Dancers, Lunar New Year is fast approaching, and siblings Lily and Noah are lucky enough to learn about and celebrate this festive Chinese tradition.

The adorable duo’s curiosity is piqued when, after kung fu class, they encounter two lion dancers practicing for the Lunar New Year parade. The lion dance “scares away evil spirits,” they explain, “and brings good luck and happiness to everyone for the New Year.”  

The kids are fascinated by the lion costume’s vivid colors and furry details. Even better, “It takes two people to make the lion come alive,” and the dancers let Lily and Noah try it! Alas, although the kids quickly get the hang of various lion-y movements, the costume is too big for their little bodies. Rather than be disappointed, they find another way to participate: Lily plays the gong and Noah plays the cymbals while the adults practice their dance.   

The siblings’ creativity and adaptability comes into play at home, too, where they use a cardboard box, sheet and more to create a kid-sized lion costume. “Together, they LIFT AND SHAKE, LIFT AND SHAKE. They even give a little ROAR.” On parade day, they add the gong and cymbals from earlier to the joyful noise of the Lunar New Year paraders and the appreciative crowd. And afterward, they’re thrilled to receive a special surprise gift as a thank you for their help—and encouragement to carry on the lion dance tradition. 

We Are Lion Dancers is a winning tale that warmly depicts the excitement of discovery, the fun of being part of a team and the value of learning about and participating in important traditions. Throughout the book, Shum provides lots of fascinating historical and cultural details, such as events where the dance is performed (Lunar New Year celebrations, weddings, business openings) and the particulars of two traditional dance styles (Southern and Northern). “The Story of Nian” at the book’s end describes the dance’s mythical origin story, offering both context and inspiration for the next generation of aspiring lion dancers. Roar!

We Are Lion Dancers is a winning tale that warmly depicts the excitement of discovery, the fun of being part of a team and the value of learning about and participating in important traditions.
Science Fiction & FantasyScience Fiction

We Lived on the Horizon

Review by Chris Pickens

Artificial intelligence holds only so much power in the year 2024. Sure, it could help improve your cover letter or maybe suggest a better pumpkin pie recipe. But it doesn’t nurture human life. The future may be quite different, with a million harmonious systems calibrating and updating and sustaining whatever remains of our species. But what happens when the systems that serve us begin to erode? Erika Swyler ponders such a future in her thoughtful speculative novel We Lived on the Horizon. 

The walled city of Bulwark protects one of the final pockets of humanity from an unlivable Earth. Controlled by a citywide AI system, the city is a near-conscious network of interconnected systems and data. Bulwark’s citizens survive in comfort or squalor based on how much their ancestors gave to the greater good, with the city’s elite, known as the Sainted, living lavishly. But when one of the Sainted is murdered in his home and all the data records are erased, Enita Malovis and her house AI system, Nix, sense something terrible is happening to Bulwark. Systems are quietly shutting down or failing to respond. Can they find out who, or what, is suppressing the truth?

AI systems take center stage in We Lived on the Horizon, and Swyler gives spectacular voice to these nonliving entities. Lines of code hint at emotion with small color changes; long database query times with no responses suggest recalcitrance or confusion. These passages are some of the most interesting and innovative in the novel, and Swyler deliberately paces her story to stretch them to their fullest potential. Moral reflections on the relationship between humanity and machines drive Enita and Nix’s ever-evolving relationship as she tries—literally—to make him human.

Lovers of Octavia Butler or Mary Shelley will easily see We Lived on the Horizon’s direct descent from such literary giants. The novel’s core, however, feels timely and urgent, wondrous and inventive. It’s a marvel and a triumph. At its conclusion, I felt a twinge of dread as I contemplated what our own creations may do to try to sustain us.

Timely and urgent, wondrous and inventive, We Lived on the Horizon is a fascinating mystery set in a city run by AI.
Mystery & SuspenseThriller

Vantage Point

Review by Lauren Emily Whalen

To be a member of one of the country’s wealthiest, most prestigious families means, well, wealth and prestige. But what if your family’s cursed and you’re a woman on the internet—are you ever truly safe? Sara Sligar’s Vantage Point blends family drama, generational trauma and the destructive forces of cutting-edge technology in a disturbing suspense story told from two compelling female perspectives.

For the Wieland family, April is a historically tragic month: 14 Aprils ago, a teenage Clara Wieland witnessed both her parents’ brutal demise. A whirlwind of chaotic world travel, heavy substance use and eating disorder clinic stays later, Clara returns to Vantage Point, the family estate on a remote Maine island. Also living at Vantage Point are Clara’s brother, Teddy, now running for the U.S. Senate, and Clara’s childhood best friend, Jess, now married to Teddy. At the beginning of April, an intimate, graphic video of Clara surfaces online and immediately goes viral, but Clara has no memory of the video’s events. Is it real, or an extremely advanced deepfake? As Teddy’s political campaign is threatened and Jess struggles to hold the family together, Clara experiences disturbing hallucinations she insists are also engineered. Has Clara descended into madness, or are the three surviving Wielands in serious danger?

Author and academic Sligar expertly crafts the history of her fictional dynasty through fictional Wikipedia entries describing the tragic outcomes of the Wieland curse, from wine cellar explosions to rogue horse tramplings. Jess grew up impoverished and became enmeshed with the Wielands at an early age, and Clara is still grappling with the tremendous loss in her adolescence. Close confidantes and now in-laws, they each provide a unique perspective on the family’s collective trauma, and they share common ground as women vulnerable to a society intent on ruining them. The “future” of believable deepfakes is already here, and Sligar’s novel serves as an entertaining literary companion to shows like Succession, but also a warning to women everywhere: Your moment of deepfake reckoning may be just around the corner.

Sara Sligar’s Vantage Point is an entertaining literary companion to shows like Succession, but also a chilling warning about the rise of deepfake technology.

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