Norah Piehl

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Jojo Moyes’ novel Someone Else’s Shoes (12.5 hours) starts with a lighthearted premise—the accidental swap of two nearly identical bags belonging to two very different women, Sam and Nisha—but soon takes on weightier themes. These include explorations of the ebb and flow of both long marriages and female friendships, as well as considerations of mental and physical illness and emotional abuse. 

With excellent pacing and expression, British actor Daisy Ridley (whose deep alto voice will be familiar from her role as Rey in the Star Wars saga) capably narrates both the humor and serious undertones in Moyes’ novel. Ridley pulls off Nisha’s American accent and brings to life a range of voices for a well-rounded cast of secondary characters, including Sam’s longtime best friend and her clinically depressed husband, and both women’s professional colleagues. 

Although the novel is long, the story breezes by, propelled by the plot’s steadily mounting tension that’s relieved by moments of levity and even some slapstick elements. Listeners will relish this uplifting story of transformation and second chances.

British actor Daisy Ridley (whose deep alto voice will be most familiar from her role as Rey in the Star Wars saga) capably narrates both the humor and serious undertones in Jojo Moyes’ novel.
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Twelve-year-old Addie is still working through the aftermath of a family crisis when her dad, a futurist, decides the two of them need a change of scenery for the summer. He’ll oversee a university research lab where talented students are experimenting with using virtual reality as a tool to teach everything from nutrition to empathy. While her dad is engaged with his work, Addie is more than happy to retreat into the VR headset she borrows from the lab. Entire days go by as she explores a virtual world without ever leaving their small campus apartment.

Virtual reality is easy and fun, but real life and real relationships can be scary, and Addie is initially hesitant to form a friendship with her new neighbor Mateo. His life, filled with family, hobbies and volunteer projects, seems so uncomplicated compared with Addie’s. But as Addie begins to open up to Mateo, she’s inspired to hatch a plan for a new way to use VR to make other kids’ real-life anxieties a little more manageable.

Bestselling children’s author Wendy Mass (The Candymakers, Jeremy Fink and the Meaning of Life) has more than two dozen books under her belt, so it seems funny to refer to her as a debut author, but with Lo and Behold, she’s making her graphic novel debut. The book is a collaboration with comics artist Gabi Mendez, who’s also a first-time graphic novel illustrator, and the two work well together. Mass has always been skilled at portraying the hidden thoughts and emotions of young people, and Mendez is adept at capturing Addie’s changeable moods, from loneliness and worry to excitement and elation, in her expressive face and body language. 

Mendez also excels at depicting the virtual reality worlds that Addie explores, creatively using background colors and patterns to differentiate the VR world from the real one. Mendez’s rich, vibrant artwork beautifully expresses the natural world, too, and her evocation of the play of light and shadow under a tree is especially effective. 

Readers who, like Addie, are excited about the potential of virtual reality technology won’t want to miss the incredibly cool augmented reality feature included in the book, which further enriches an already full and complex story.

Bestselling author Wendy Mass’ first foray into graphics follows a girl who retreats into virtual reality rather than navigate the complications of real life.
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Humorist Samantha Irby’s fourth collection of essays, Quietly Hostile (9.5 hours), delivers another winning blend of hilarious observations and emotional insights, combined with a charming aura of disbelief over no longer being just a humble blogger. According to hate mail from angry fans, she’s now ruining the “Sex and the City” reboot as one of its newest writers. 

In 17 short essays, Irby addresses topics that range from her unapologetic love for the Cheesecake Factory and the Dave Matthews Band to her misadventures in pandemic pet adoption. Some essays—especially those focused on her parents and her estranged brother—are emotionally affecting, while others (such as one essay consisting of her descriptions of various porn video tags, or another structured as an FAQ about bathroom etiquette) are gleefully crude. Regardless of the mood of each piece, Irby’s narration, with matter-of-fact delivery and flawless comic timing, amps up the intended effect, making the listener feel like they’re just having a nice long hang with their funniest friend.


Read our review of the print edition of Quietly Hostile.

Samantha Irby’s narration, with matter-of-fact delivery and flawless comic timing, makes listeners of her fourth essay collection feel like they’re having a nice long hang with their funniest friend.
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Zelda lives in the kind of quaint, upbeat town worthy of a montage. People greet her by name, wish her good luck on her geography test and loan her a bike when she’s running late. But after a close call on that bike with a car and a disappearing boy, Zelda starts to question her perfect town. Why does that geography test—which she’s pretty sure she also took yesterday—make no sense? Why does the town laundromat sport its own creepy clown? And why has her dead cat, Patches, shown up . . . talking?

Zelda starts to suspect that she’s actually inhabiting a dream, even more so once she reencounters that mysterious boy, Langston. But whose dream is she in? And what if the dreamer wakes up? Will they all just cease to exist?

To find out, Zelda, Langston and Patches head toward the limits of the known dream world. What they discover includes a robot house, an ice cream vendor who speaks in rhymes and the four gym teachers of the apocalypse, all of which are depicted in black-and-white illustrations by author Adam Rex. If this sounds kind of silly, it is. Those familiar with Rex’s books for younger readers will recognize his zany humor here as well, but even as the absurdity is pushed to extremes, A Little Like Waking maintains a level of seriousness as well.

The dreamscape is influenced by personal history and often tinged with tragedy. At every turn, the characters consider big questions: “Do you want to grow up? Do you want a life that’s easy or a life that’s real?” Zelda must confront the fact that if she’s not the dreamer, she’s not the star she once assumed. As she puts it, “Growing up is realizing you’re not the main character. Or everyone else is, too.”

A Little Like Waking is sneaky like that, planting nuggets of philosophical and moral truths alongside carnival rides that sprout from the earth like giant vegetation. It’s also romantic and a little sad, with moments of quiet, bittersweet loveliness that stand out in high relief from the near-constant backdrop of hilarity. Rex’s quest narrative is like none other, sure to leave readers marveling at the wonder of dreams and the power of imagination.

A Little Like Waking plants nuggets of philosophical and moral truths alongside carnival rides that sprout from the earth like giant vegetation.
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Christian Cooper may have come to national prominence as the Central Park bird-watcher who was the target of a racist incident in 2020, but as his memoir makes perfectly clear, that viral episode hardly defines his life story. In Better Living Through Birding (10.5 hours), Cooper delves into his identities as a gay man, a Black person, a devotee of comic books, superheroes and other facets of nerd culture—and, of course, a birder.

With birding tips and many glimpses of the often surprising rewards of birding, Cooper makes a compelling argument for his obsession—er, hobby—to become more inclusive. He inspires by showing how he has allowed his recent fame to propel him into new and rewarding professional directions, such as becoming the host of National Geographic’s TV show “Extraordinary Birder.” Cooper’s voice is warm and approachable as he reads his book, and the bird songs that punctuate section and chapter breaks offer clever and appropriate ambiance.

Read our review of the print edition of Better Living Through Birding.

Christian Cooper’s voice is warm and approachable as he reads his memoir, and the birdsongs that punctuate section breaks offer clever and appropriate ambience.

Leg

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Greg Marshall has penned a different kind of coming-out memoir: With Leg (10 hours), he writes about his evolving understanding of his identity not only as a gay man but also as a disabled person. Out of a well-intentioned desire to prevent their son from focusing on his differences, his parents kept his cerebral palsy diagnosis a secret and led Marshall to believe that he just had “tight tendons” until his early thirties. Marshall’s memoir-in-essays (some of which have been published elsewhere in standalone form) transforms what could have been a fairly tragic tale—growing up as a disabled kid with two chronically ill parents—into wry comedy, thanks in no small part to a colorful family life, a fair amount of raunchy humor and a willingness to make fun of himself. Marshall, who reads his own work, forewarns listeners that they may “notice occasional mouth sounds that accompany this reading” due to his disability, but even this author’s note is couched in wit and humor.

Read our starred review of the print edition of Leg.

Greg Marshall’s memoir-in-essays transforms what could have been a fairly tragic tale—growing up as a disabled kid with two chronically ill parents—into wry comedy.
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A young unnamed Black boy wakes up on an ordinary school day with a smile on his face, eager to enjoy his favorite breakfast: “pan-fried bologna, homemade pancakes, strawberry jam.” He hugs his dog, endures a raucous school bus ride and settles in at school. But his unremarkable day is disrupted by insensitive, likely routine remarks from his classmates, who make assumptions and try to box him into prescriptive categories: “Can I touch your hair? . . . You don’t sound Black . . . Do you play basketball? . . . Where are you from?”

In I’m From, the protagonist is from all the things he loves: notebooks, caramel candy squares and late-night belly laughs. He feels most at home when he’s drawing pictures of himself and his dog as superheroes, and when he’s in the warm embrace of his family. Their gentle reminder about their shared traditions, hopes and aspirations give the boy a sense of purpose and belonging, which allows him to fall asleep warm and secure under “handcrafted blankets, knitted with memories.”

Illustrator Oge Mora depicts these blankets and the other illustrations with bold, warm colors and patterns. Her artwork—created with a mix of paint, collage, markers, airbrush and other media—echoes author Gary R. Gray Jr.’s heartfelt words. Harsh colors and shapes mirror the emotional impact of the classmates’ sharp words, but the words of affirmation from the boy’s family are set amid a culminating, joyful spiral of swirling purples and magentas that carry him as high as his imagination can reach. This buoyant story of everyday love and frustrations will comfort readers who just want to be valued for who they are.

I’m From is a buoyant story of everyday love and frustrations that will comfort readers who just want to be valued for who they are.
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Bradley Graeme and Celine Bangura used to be best friends. Then Brad joined the popular football crowd, leaving Celine to lean into nerd culture and her TikTok account. Though Celine has no shortage of self-confidence, she’s always resented Brad for choosing popularity over loyalty. Their friendship fallout feels especially painful since Celine and Brad are among the few Black students at their school. Shouldn’t they be supporting each other?

But the former besties still have plenty in common. They both aspire to get accepted into Oxford or Cambridge and pursue careers in law, so it’s not surprising that they both find themselves in a competitive program run by one of the U.K.’s most prominent Black lawyers, a woman who is Celine’s personal hero. At stake is a university scholarship—if the participants can survive a series of leadership and team-building challenges in the forests of England and Scotland. Brad and Celine will have to overcome their differences and get along, but their reconciliation might be more complicated—and more romantic—than either of them expect.

Author Talia Hibbert’s fantastic Brown Sisters rom-com trilogy won over adult romance readers with her signature blend of witty dialogue, self-discovery and true love. She makes her YA debut with Highly Suspicious and Unfairly Cute, and the result is sheer delight. 

In her previous books, Hibbert has skillfully explored complicated family dynamics as well as themes of mental health and disability, and she does so here as well. Brad speaks candidly about having obsessive-compulsive disorder and the strategies he’s learned to manage it. Celine gradually realizes that she could benefit from therapy, especially once she recognizes that she might have selected her career goals for the wrong reasons. Along the way, both teens find the courage to be honest—with others and with themselves—about their desires. 

The novel’s dialogue is fast-paced and funny, and thanks to a hilarious glossary, U.S. readers can learn a great deal about U.K. secondary school and youth culture. Hibbert’s book launches Joy Revolution, a new imprint curated by YA authors Nicola and David Yoon and dedicated to YA romances by and about people of color. Highly Suspicious and Unfairly Cute will leave readers eager to discover what else Joy Revolution will publish.

Adult romance author Talia Hibbert makes her YA debut with this rom-com about two former BFFs who must work together in order to achieve their ambitious goals.
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In Have I Told You This Already? Stories I Don’t Want to Forget to Remember (4.5 hours), Lauren Graham, the beloved actor and bestselling author of Talking as Fast as I Can, offers conversational, witty essays about everything from changing trends in undergarments to the process of coming to terms with aging, from adventures in pandemic cooking to the ways in which adopting an ailing dog can resurrect old anxieties. Graham also provides some behind-the-scenes glimpses of Hollywood, all delivered with the same down-to-earth, self-deprecating humor that makes her so endearing. Longtime fans will likely feel a little “Gilmore Girls” nostalgia while listening to her deliver these frank, honest anecdotes.

Read our review of the print edition of Have I Told You This Already?

Longtime fans will likely feel a little “Gilmore Girls” nostalgia while listening to Lauren Graham’s frank, honest anecdotes.
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As a New York Times critic-at-large, Maya Phillips has one of the more unusual (and to many, most enviable) beats: writing about comics, superheroes, anime and fan culture, among other wide-ranging but culturally relevant topics. Phillips’ Nerd: Adventures in Fandom From This Universe to the Multiverse (9.5 hours) collects nine essays on everything from New York City as a superhero haven to the evolution of Saturday morning cartoons. She explores the intersections of race, sexuality and mental illness through the characters and tropes she knows and loves, and this cultural context means there are plenty of entry points to her essays, whether listeners are already part of a dedicated fandom or just enjoy smart cultural criticism. 

Phillips, who narrates her book, unabashedly confesses to her own fandoms, and her voice conveys not only her clear fondness for these characters and worlds but also her appreciation for the growing acceptance of so-called “nerd” culture. Some of Phillips’ essays are strikingly personal, all are deeply thoughtful, and her passion is contagious. Perhaps Phillips will make fans of us all.

Read our starred review of the print edition of Nerd.

Maya Phillips, who narrates her own book, conveys not only her clear fondness for imagined characters and worlds but also her appreciation for the growing acceptance of so-called “nerd” culture.

Marlene dreads Sundays, when she and her mom, Paola, spend most of the day at the salon undergoing the excruciating (and excruciatingly boring) ritual of getting their hair straightened. Marlene, who is Dominican American, has an imagination as vivid and untameable as her naturally curly hair, so she survives each week’s torture session by imagining herself as the star of her favorite show, “Super Amigas,” with her stylist as a supervillain. 

But Marlene’s creativity is no match for the hurtful comments that her relatives make about her cousin Diana’s “good hair,” which is showcased in all its glossy glory at Diana’s quinceañera. And unlike on “Super Amigas,” there’s no way for Marlene to win this battle. After encouragement from her best friend, Camilla, and a little help from a YouTube tutorial, Marlene decides to wear her natural hair to school, but she gets ruthlessly bullied by her classmates and punished by her mom. How can Marlene be proud of who she is if everyone around her constantly makes her feel imperfect?

For her first graphic novel, Claribel A. Ortega, the bestselling author of Ghost Squad and the Witchlings series, is joined by debut artist Rose Bousamra. The result is a spirited story of a girl’s quest to embrace who she is. Bousamra’s artwork skillfully portrays lively city scenes and cozy interiors alike. They use a palette of roses, plums and soft teals to play perfectly off the warm brown and russet tones of Marlene’s skin and hair. Scenes pulled from Marlene’s imagination break through panel outlines, reinforcing her exuberance and growing frustrations.

Frizzy is an intimate mother-daughter drama that sensitively explores the concept of so-called “good hair,” a manifestation of racist beauty standards, as well as how such internalized anti-Blackness gets passed down through generations. Eager to value her unique identity, Marlene eventually learns how to advocate for herself, and her journey to proud self-acceptance is nothing short of joyful. In the end, readers are left to imagine what new weekly adventures Marlene and her mom might discover together, outside the stifling walls of the salon.

In this intimate mother-daughter drama, the journey to proud self-acceptance is utterly joyful.
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Patrick Radden Keefe is an expert in long-form journalism, and his particular specialty is the so-called “write around,” in which a journalist constructs a profile of an individual, even if that person can’t or doesn’t want to be interviewed. In Rogues: True Stories of Grifters, Killers, Rebels and Crooks (15.5 hours), Keefe compiles 12 such essays, originally published in The New Yorker between 2007 and 2019, with updates appended. Among these are portraits of “Survivor” creator and producer Mark Burnett, food writer Anthony Bourdain and the drug lord Joaquin Guzmán Loera, better known as El Chapo. 

The author reads his own work with care and conviction, giving listeners a good sense of why he’s such an effective interviewer and storyteller. Furthermore, each chapter is about an hour long, which makes this audiobook a particularly good choice for fans of true crime podcasts.

Read our starred review of the print edition of ‘Rogues,’ plus two other true crime masterpieces.

Each chapter of Patrick Radden Keefe’s Rogues is about an hour long, which makes this audiobook a particularly good choice for fans of true crime podcasts.
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When award-winning health science journalist Linda Villarosa’s New York Times Magazine article on the racial disparities in maternal and infant mortality rates went viral, it was clear her reporting had struck a nerve. In Under the Skin: The Hidden Toll of Racism on American Lives and on the Health of Our Nation (10 hours), Villarosa expands her research to look more broadly at how systemic racism contributes to health inequities for Black Americans, regardless of income or education levels. She underscores the urgent need for all Americans to understand how this discrimination harms our entire health care system. 

Award-winning narrator Karen Chilton’s serious yet approachable tone strikes just the right balance for Villarosa’s writing, clearly outlining the facts and figures the author uses to build her case while also conveying warmth during the many personal anecdotes Villarosa incorporates throughout. This is essential listening for anyone hoping to understand the roots of health care injustice in America.

Read our starred review of the print edition of ‘Under the Skin.’

Under the Skin is essential listening for anyone hoping to understand the roots of health care injustice in America.

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