Do you remember your first kiss? Falling in love? Your proudest achievement? Of course you do. But Christine Lucas doesn't. In fact, she doesn't remember anything. Each day she wakes up terrified, not knowing who or where she is, not recognizing her husband, Ben. Each day she must relearn how she got to this damaged point. S. J. Watson's addictive page-turner, Before I Go to Sleep, is fraught with tension; he'll have you hooked the moment Christine discovers her secret journal and reads the ominous words she can't recall writing: "Don’t trust Ben."

From that point, this unnerving story is told through the prose of Christine's journal, which a mysterious Dr. Nash, who is treating her unbeknownst to her husband, has urged her to keep. Ben has explained that they are happily married and have shared a lifetime together. As a result of a hit-and-run car accident, she has a rare form of amnesia, one that allows her to form and retain memories only during her waking hours, which then evaporate as she sleeps, and so it begins the next day. Unbelievably, she has lost twenty years of memories. Her journal is her only lifeline, though she must trust Dr. Nash to remind her daily of its existence.

And the journal is indeed helping. Christine begins to have flashes of fragmented memories that she can hold onto. Through these glimmers and her own writings, she realizes there are contradictions in what her husband and her doctor are saying. Dr. Nash insists that her amnesia was the result of an incident much more horrific than a hit-and-run. Ben tells her they have no children … until the day he tells her they did have a son who died. And then denies their child yet another day. Perhaps he is protecting her from the grief she would relive anew each day upon hearing of this tragedy. As Watson's tale unwinds, we see that between love and obsession lies manipulation.

Without the benefit of reliable memories to form her identity, Christine is gripped by the bone-chilling fear that her mind may simply be inventing scenarios to fill in the blanks. She -- and, ergo, the reader -- feels consumed with a frenzy of questions. How can she know what is true and who to believe? Did she really spend years paranoid, violent, in a psychiatric hospital, as Dr. Nash says? Does her son exist and is he dead? Why are they keeping her from her best friend, who may have the answers to her past? And how can Christine trust these men who each claim to have her best interest at heart, when she can't even trust herself?

There is panic laced within Watson's writing, the threat of unspoken conspiracies. He has crafted a uniquely suspenseful novel, so creepily good, you'll have a hard time forgetting it well after the chilling ending.

The geography of New York City is the same but the ambiance is oh so very 1930s in the pages of Amor Towles' novel, Rules of Civility. And what a world it is — filled with innocence aching for the thrills that money can buy, as young women are courted by well-born men. Yet as the novel unfolds we find deceit, passion, intrigue, and everything that makes a novel a delectable and satisfying read. Moreover, there is undeniable — but never prissy — moral depth to the issues the novel raises.

A whirl of uptown venues — the 21 Club, the Beresford, the Carlyle, the King Cole Bar, the Rainbow Room – conjure opulence and money, even today. But the novel deliberately juxtaposes these iconic haunts with ordinary images that open each of its sections — subway photos by Walker Evans that speak to the quotidian lives the majority of New Yorkers lived in the late '30s.

Katey Kontent, born Katya, is from the wrong side of the tracks, Queens, but that doesn't get in her way because she is not only very smart, but wise beyond her years. Her voice opens the novel in 1969 but we quickly find ourselves in 1938 when Katey, young and feisty, is employed as a typist at a law firm and lives in a boardinghouse with others, who may not all be fortunate enough to discard the social shackles of their birth.

Katey is that rarest of self-aware heroines for she is both kind and competitive, generous but aware of generosity's cost. The novel first embroils us in the midst of her new affection for Tinker Grey and her friendship with Eve Ross. But this is no mere love triangle that Towles creates; it is a portrait of an era, where young swells and wannabe swells take their girls to Marx Brothers movies, fortifying their laughter with sterling silver flasks. It's also a time when a young woman can rise from the typing pool to editing at Gotham magazine, "a sort of Vogue of the mind," not by knowing the right people but by being clever and creative. Throw in old family camps in the Adirondacks and parties at estates on the Long Island Sound where people swan around in gowns and tuxedos and the glamour quotient is pretty high. But there are also the seedy bars, the downtown artists, the Spanish Civil War, and the girls who won't make it out of the typing pool. It's not a spoiler to say that very few people are who they pretend to be.

Towles manages to delineate all aspects of the society and the engaging voice of Katey Kontent with grace, remarkable descriptive skill, and more than a few killer lines. This is a first novel that offers a world you will be happy to live in and sad to leave when you turn that last page.

You, dear Reader, are the end of the line. Your generation has watched its world move from atoms to bits. Those who follow you, though, will be born into a purely digital society, where eBooks have gone from exotic to everyday. In The Blind Giant, Nick Harkaway, the blogger and novelist, uses a series of linked essays to consider whether this brave new world of ours will be heavenly or hellish.

These topics are familiar to us all because we cope with them daily: information overload, how search engines change the way we think, piracy and ownership, activism in a digital world, and so on. Harkaway, though, has thought a lot more about this than you have. The book is like a digital "My Dinner With Andre," where we eavesdrop on a fascinating conversation about our place in the changing world.

While this may be of interest to future historians, like Marshall McLuhan's influential Understanding Media from 1964, Harkaway's book is nothing if not now. His examples -- the Facebook IPO, WikiLeaks, the live Twitter account of the attack on Osama bin Laden's compound, etc. -- are so effective because they are so fresh.

These well-chosen illustrations are useful in grounding the discussion, and this is important because some ideas are farther out there than "The Jetsons." For example, Harkaway muses, "If I were to collect DNA from someone I found attractive, say from a hairbrush, and have it combined with my own and placed into a viable human egg, would I have committed some sort of (intellectual property) violation?" Yeow. But, he’s right: Our society will face questions like these, they are a lot deeper than the etiquette around "defriending" someone, and we're not ready yet.

The author shares some of his own information overload with us, which can be both fascinating and overwhelming. The global chicken population in 2003 was twenty-four billion. There is a blind man who can ride his bike through traffic by clicking his tongue and listening, like a bat, to tell where he is and what is around him. Prisoners given nutritional supplements committed thirty-five percent fewer violent incidents than those given a placebo.

The Blind Giant is an interesting counterpoint to Jaron Lanier's You Are Not a Gadget, which covered similar ground with a lot more skepticism about what "Web 2.0" offers us. Ultimately, Harkaway makes the case that technology is like any other tool: not good or bad, except in how we use it. It's reassuring, at least, to know that our society has people like Nick Harkaway to start asking the right questions.

The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand grabs you by the collar, shakes you, and leaves you wanting to re-read it the moment you turn the last page. Like many, I had a certain impression of Ayn Rand's books as being inaccessible and saturated with highbrow philosophies. At the urging of my sister, I suspended my preconceived notions, and just read the darn thing. I'm so glad I did, as The Fountainhead has ended up becoming one of my favorite books of all time.

The Fountainhead follows two architects, Howard Roark and Peter Keating, throughout their lives and careers. Roark is a brilliant, visionary artist, whose career keeps stalling as he refuses to compromise the way he designs to mimic other styles of architecture. His level of commitment to maintain originality in his work often leaves him ostracized from other professionals, and out of work. While this would frustrate most people, Roark is incapable of being affected by society's cold shoulder. He is a self-sufficient egoist in the most positive form.

Peter Keating is the complete antithesis. He is New York's golden boy of architecture: adept in schmoozing, and intent on climbing the corporate ladder. However, he does not have any real talent, and is well aware of this fact. To remedy this shortcoming, Keating cozies up to Roark despite the fact that he finds him uncomfortable and severe. Despite their personality clashes, Roark finds himself helping Keating with his design commissions, and to Keating's surprise, rejects any business connections he is offered. Roark decides to help a man he finds so reprehensible because his love for architecture and design trumps his distaste for Keating.

To shake up this boys' club, we are introduced to Dominique Francon, the only female character in the story. She is a strong-willed newspaper columnist, who calls things as she sees them. Obviously, both men become smitten with her. Dominique is a modern, independent woman (with a few screws loose), who becomes intent on using her seductive powers to destroy both men.

There are a few other major characters of note -- Ellsworth Toohey, who writes an influential cultural column for the salacious newspaper, The New York Banner, and Gail Wynand, a wealthy newspaper mogul who owns said periodical. Both men have a major impact on the fates of Keating and Roark, through their ability to manipulate the opinion of the masses.

Rand is truly brilliant when it comes to character development, descriptions, and dialogue. The Fountainhead introduces her philosophy, Objectivism, which is rather fascinating, and considerably more accessible than I first imagined. In a nutshell, it proclaims the importance of individual achievements over compromising such for the benefit of the common good. In the end, The Fountainhead focuses on the characters and uses them to tell one heck of a story.

Some years ago, I attended an Aerosmith concert in Portland, Oregon. The band was in fabulous form, punching out their greatest hits with a sound and fury that was explosive: two hours of ear-numbing party insanity, ending with three solid encores of heightened hysteria. Phew! Frontman and lead-singer, Steven Tyler, by then crowned the modern-day Mick Jagger, strutted and swaggered his rouge-faced, glitter-laden body across a dazzling mega-stage, rock super-showman singing and screaming as only he can do. I met Steven shortly after the show, shook his hand and thanked him for an extraordinary concert. His response came as a surprise. With warmth and gentle humility, he quietly thanked me, patiently shaking my hand. We chatted for a few brief moments. I found him gracious and soft-spoken, genuine and kind, something I would never have expected based on his public and stage persona.

Now, fifteen years later comes Does the Noise in My Head Bother You? A Rock 'n' Roll Memoir by Steven Tyler. Tyler serves up his philosophy, poetry, history, anecdotes, advice, and stories – great stories! – all wildly spinning on the revolving disc of the music business. Want to know what it's like to be a rock star? What it's like to be on stage? What it's like behind the curtain? In the studio? He tells you … in his unique way of connecting a cacophony of thoughts that spill and jangle and twist and turn and take you places far and unknown, sometimes all in one sentence. But that is what makes this read such a fun ride. And if there is no word to describe what he's telling, he just invents a new word! Brilliant!

We learn of his early summers in New Hampshire as "Nature Boy," life in the Bronx with his "hippie" mother and Juilliard-trained, classical-pianist father, his sojourns to Greenwich Village as a teenager, and the bumpy musical expeditions, manifestations, disappointments, and developments all along the way. Tyler speaks freely and his language is loose, as you might expect. He holds nothing back – in what he thinks of others, but also what he thinks of himself. Both good and bad.

Later, we learn of Tyler's experience of Aerosmith and life on the road: the drugs, the sex, the music, the arrests, addictions and rehabs, and their subsequent toll on his marriages and personal life. Tyler tells it all with refreshing candor yet with no apology. He also explains how these experiences transposed into specific lyrics and songs. Tyler shares stories of his rocky relationships with Joe Perry and the other band members, including concerts they performed while not speaking to each other. There are many juicy tidbits and details for the dedicated fan, but Tyler's memoir also offers a wider perspective and reflections on an unusual life, with lessons drawn from such a colorful and topsy-turvy journey.

Anyone who has seen Steven Tyler as a judge on "American Idol" may have observed that he has grown into a more generous, kindhearted, and gentle being with age, while maintaining his zany sense of humor and outrageous ways of expressing himself. I'd say this was Steven Tyler all along, but we’re just now getting to know him.

In 1951, Henrietta Lacks died from a particularly aggressive form of cervical cancer. She was thirty-one years old. Cancer cells, harvested from her cervix shortly before she died, have lived for an incredible additional sixty-one years after her death, completely reshaping modern medicine. Author Rebecca Skloot tackles this improbable story in The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks. This true account is a beautifully woven dual narrative that juxtaposes the life of Henrietta Lacks with the science surrounding her immortal HeLa cells and their consequent impact on the medical world.

Skloot begins by taking us on a journey through Henrietta's life. Born Loretta Pleasant, but called Henrietta by her loved ones, she grew up on the same land as her slave ancestors in Clover, Virginia. Henrietta married her cousin David Lacks at a young age and together they had five children. A few months after the birth of her last child, she began to experience abnormal vaginal bleeding. She traveled miles to Johns Hopkins Hospital as it was the closest facility that treated black patients. Henrietta's doctor discovered a tumor in her cervix and it was confirmed that she had stage 1 cervical cancer. She was admitted to the hospital for treatment, and at that time a sample of her cancerous cells was taken, albeit without her knowledge or consent. After a painful struggle against the cancer, Henrietta died only months after her initial diagnosis.

The sample was sent to George Gey at a lab affiliated with Johns Hopkins. Gey was testing the science of cells' sustainability, but up until he received Henrietta's cancer cells every other sample had never sustained past a few days. Henrietta's cells were different. They sustained, and flourished, multiplying rapidly. The cells were also resistant to a variety of "testing," which, combined with their rapid multiplication, made it possible for them to be distributed to other culture labs around the country and world, in time leading to revolutionary results. HeLa cells, as they are more widely referred to, played a vital role in developing the polio vaccine, understanding gene mapping, and many advances in cancer and AIDS research.

All the while, Henrietta's family knew nothing of these cells -- not of their existence or their impact on modern science. And although her cells created a multimillion-dollar business for doctors and scientists, not a penny was given to Henrietta's family. One unsettling example that Skloot illustrates is how, despite the value of Henrietta's cells, her family was unable to afford basic healthcare insurance.

The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks is first and foremost a story of family. A story of children who miss their mother and do not understand how others have been able to benefit and profit from her death. Skloot's brilliant work of narrative nonfiction reveals the history of a woman who unknowingly impacted the lives of millions of people. As her cells live on and become immortalized, so will her life story through this enlightening prose.

To all the mommies out there, I hope you're having a relaxing day of pampering (forgive the diaper pun). But if it's not exactly what you expected, take heart. Jill Smokler understands, which is why she penned Confessions of a Scary Mommy, a little book of humorous essays that takes an irreverent, honest look at motherhood.

Smokler, a graphic designer turned stay-at-home mom, began a blog a few years ago on which she wrote about the real deal about motherhood: the struggles, competition, and boredom, and the blissful moments, too. Next came her book, Confessions of a Scary Mommy, in which she starts each essay with the funniest, saddest, twisted confessional comments from her blog readers that correspond with the theme of the chapter. Some of my favorite chapters are about: the family vacation (nice on paper but you'll need a vacation from your vacation once you get home); the grand efforts to plan the kid's perfect birthday party; the pool as recreation (deathtrap); the mommy wars; guarding your babysitter with your life, and so on. You get the picture, because Smokler speaks the truth.

We know you have precious little time, and luckily, this book can be read in two short sittings because it's that much fun. Also, check out our other ebook recommendations about the good, the bad, and the scary side of mommyhood.

Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother, by Amy Chua
Kids not living up to your expectations? Try banning all playdates and enforcing the violin. In this controversial book, Amy Chua rejects Western methods of child rearing and relays her story of extreme parenting, Chinese style.

It's Not About the Pom-Poms, by Laura Vikmanis with Amy Sohn
Remember feeling more put together and fit before having kids? Take some inspiration from the story of a forty-year-old single mom who took up pole dancing, then became the NFL's oldest cheerleader. How's that for teen spirit?

Bringing Up Bebe, by Pamela Druckerman
When an American journalist moves to Paris and notices that French kids are good listeners, great sleepers, and gourmet eaters -- and their parents are relaxed and balanced -- she investigates how on earth this happened and how you can get there, too.

Baby Laughs, by Jenny McCarthy
Funny lady Jenny McCarthy waxes hilarious on the naked truth of new motherhood, including dueling grandmas, husbands expecting sex, lullaby illiteracy, baby manicures, and other amusing, insightful anecdotes about the challenges new parents face.

Sippy Cups Are Not for Chardonnay, by Stefanie Wilder-Taylor
Enough with the parenting advice from everyone in your life driving you crazy! In these sidesplitting and practical essays, Wilder-Taylor reassures that you can be a good mom and make your own decisions about how to raise your children.

Raising the Perfect Child Through Guilt and Manipulation, by Elizabeth Beckwith
So long traditional and earnest parenting guides! Beckwith discusses developing a family philosophy and sticking with it no matter how quirky. Includes strategies like "Don’t Be Afraid to Raise a Nerd" and "Mind Control: Why It’s a Good Thing."

At the beginning of Lynn Shepherd's latest novel, The Solitary House, Charles Maddox is living by himself with a guilty conscience from a long-held secret, and reeling from the misfortune of being too smart for his own good. He has been fired from the police force for his stubborn insistence that he is always correct. Thus, even though he was born into a family of wealth and privilege with many opportunities in front of him, Maddox finds himself quite alone in life.

But rather than sulking about his fate, Maddox finds a way to use his lot in life to his advantage. Since he is both part of the elite yet simultaneously rejected by it, Maddox has the good fortune of being a loner. Why is this good fortune? Because it allows Maddox to move seamlessly in and out of different social circles in high society, which is an advantage rather than a hindrance for Maddox in his new profession of private investigator.

Through Maddox's various investigations we are swept into 1850s London (Charles Dickens' London, as it turns out) where we become privy to the deeds and misdeeds of some of society's supposedly greatest men. Initially, Maddox finds himself investigating two cases: one involving a missing child and one in which a well-to-do lawyer is the recipient of several threatening letters. These lead to more cases. His dear uncle (after whom he was named) seems to be slowly going mad; there is a murder that is covered up by arson; his lady friend and confidante is brutally murdered in her home; and a grave is found filled with the bodies of numerous babies that have been buried there over the years. As his life becomes a whirlwind, Maddox finds himself asking if the mounting caseload is just coincidence or if there is some greater meaning that ties all of these events together.

For those who yearn for the days of Sherlock Holmes, The Solitary House is certain to be a new fan favorite. Shepherd has created a character with enough personality to carry him through a series of complicated mysteries in a world that now seems foreign and alarmingly familiar all at once.

Stop me if you've heard this one before: a female comedienne/actress writes a book on her mishaps in life and love, starting with herself as an awkward child and wrapping up the book with a happy ending of a booming career and some kind of long-term relationship. If this story is, in fact, old news to you, prepare to be refreshed by Rachel Dratch's Girl Walks Into a Bar: Comedy Calamities, Dating Disasters, and a Midlife Miracle. Though the title seems like your typical funny memoir, Dratch's life has been far from typical, and she shares it with us in candid, hilarious prose.

Dratch is probably best known for her stint on "Saturday Night Live," where she was most famous for her "Debbie Downer" sketch. She starts the book asking the question that all of us have perhaps been wondering: "What happened to you?!" The answer is, not much, and everything. Not much by Hollywood standards. Dratch is refreshingly honest about the typecasting she faces in Hollywood (ugly women, mousy secretaries, and butch lesbians), and the way her big break as Jenna on "30 Rock" was crushed by NBC executives. She doesn't shirk from revealing her disappointment, but does not come off as bitter, just matter-of-fact. Plus, not working gave her a chance to get out there and do all the things she'd meant to do, like yoga -- and dating.

Ah, dating in New York. Again, Dratch approaches the well-tread "dating-mishap" genre with humor, but also honesty and self-reflection, which make the stories more meaningful and relatable. Perhaps the self-reflection comes from where her last date led — to a baby! That’s right, Dratch became pregnant after casually dating John for six months. The last portion of the book relays the confusing and messy time that comes from having a baby with someone you've just met.

Of course, at the end of it all, Dratch gets her son, Eli, which is definitely a happy ending. Dratch, however, doesn't try to wrap up the book with a fairy-tale finish of John proposing, or their relationship solidifying. She admits that she has no idea what their relationship is now, or what the future holds, but she's got a tiny, wrinkly hand to hold onto, and that's good enough for her, and along for the ride, it's good enough for us.

At the heart of every fairy tale lives a moral, a timeless lesson about life or love. But alas, at some point as we grow up, fairy tales lose their sparkle. Magic turns into mortgages, princes to 401Ks, buried treasure becomes buried-by-taxes. Thankfully, there are writers like Eowyn Ivey, whose debut novel, The Snow Child, is a tale so subtly perfect, so utterly enchanting – and so full of grown-up magic.

It is the early 1920s and Jack and Mabel have moved to the Alaskan wilderness to have a late-in-life go at homesteading. As the couple adjust to their new life and let go of the idea of having children, they fall prey to a growing estrangement. As they each settle into their own routines – Jack struggling to keep employed in a time of little demand for the work he can offer and Mabel struggling to find her place worlds away from the cosmopolitan life she knew in the city – the two begin to drift apart, with few words for each other and even less affection. But in a moment of rare, childlike bliss, husband and wife are caught up in the falling snow, in the new accumulation that indicates for them the start of winter. Together, they build a snowman – or snowgirl, rather – dressing her in a red scarf and mittens. The next day, the snowgirl is melted, the mittens and hat are gone – and a wisp of a young, blonde-haired girl has appeared.

Indeed, The Snow Child is magical and asks you for a while to suspend disbelief at a snowgirl-turned-human, but it also delves into the theme of aging relationships, and what happens when things don’t go exactly as planned. Though the novel has a dark (but no less engrossing) start, there’s a thread of hope sewn throughout the story: hope for the child’s indefinite presence, hope for Jack and Mabel’s love, hope for the fruitfulness of the land, and even hope for the survival of a fox and the demise of a moose. The cast of characters that Ivey creates, though few in number, are near tangible, materializing in the imagination and embodying the culture of homestead living. They circulate around Jack and Mabel, inspiring, encouraging, and reflecting -- and leaving readers believing.

The Snow Child will have you reading late into the night, wishing the book could last forever but refusing to put it down. Ultimately, though, is there a moral? A timeless lesson about life or love? There is – but you’ll have to read it to find out what it is for yourself.

Mark Kurlansky wrote a book-within-a-book when he put together Birdseye: The Adventures of a Curious Man. The author of Salt and Cod could not resist penning a new history of a ubiquitous consumable: ice. We learn about the role ice has played in human culture, from the dawn of civilization, through the industrial revolution, and into modern times. Frozen water went from an object of awe, to a luxury good, to an everyday convenience. Along the way, religious zealots pegged ice and refrigerators as machines working against the will of God, and consumers had to be convinced that frozen food was safe and healthy to eat.

This fascinating tale is framed by the story of Clarence Birdseye, the eponymous father of the frozen food industry, whose inventions (ranging from belt freezers to heat lamps) are still in wide use today. He's an inspired and inspiring explorer, and his adventurous spirit leads to many episodes that Kurlansky delights in retelling. This is not a biography in the traditional sense, but a focused history, following the course of a particularly frigid industry through the life of a singularly bright and warm man.

From founding a correspondence taxidermy school when he was a teenager to dropping out of Amherst to catch ticks in Idaho, Birdseye always followed a unique course in life. But when he moved to Newfoundland to farm foxes for their furs, he became interested in the substance that would change his life: frozen food. He eventually worked out the best way to keep frozen food tasty and sanitary, and made his fortune selling the rights to General Foods.

Even though the record on Birdseye's life is less than reliable, Kurlanksy does a fantastic job stitching what we have together into an amusing and inspiring story. Ultimately, he concludes that it was Birdseye's curiosity that made his unusual life possible. He could never know enough about the world around him, and his need to understand gave him the materials he required to create.

Bonus: Check out the irresistible free companion comic book here.

If I didn't know better, I'd swear that Toni Morrison must have written the Bible. Her voice has such authority and command. And this is evident in her new novel, Home. No, this isn't from the Book of Proverbs, but maybe it could be:

"Misery don't call ahead. That's why you have to stay awake – otherwise it just walks on in your door." And walk on in it did.

His name is Frank Money: "Women are eager to talk to me when they hear my last name. Money! They snigger and ask the same questions: Who named me that or if anybody did. If I made it up to make myself feel important or was I a gambler or thief or some other kind of crook they should look out for? When I tell them my nickname, what folks back home call me, Smart Money, they scream with laughter and say: Ain't no such thing as dumb money, just dumb folks." But Frank isn't one of those.

Morrison's story is set in Georgia, and Frank Money is an African-American vet returning from the Korean Conflict. Frank has seen the horrors of war up close and can't get them out of his head, or heart. The things he has witnessed and participated in play on a continuous loop in the movie of his memory, no matter how hard he tries to stop the images. And the horror doesn't end on his return to Georgia. "An integrated army is integrated misery. You all go fight, come back, they treat you like dogs. Change that. They treat dogs better."

And in 1950s Georgia, that type of treatment isn't reserved for Vets, but all people of color. In Frank's absence, his sister Cee has gone to work for a white country doctor who fancies himself a scientist, though a sadist is more like it. The doctor experiments on Cee with disastrous results, almost killing her, until Frank saves her and brings her home to heal.

It is the women in their hometown who attend to her as they would a sister, or a daughter. Cee heals, and we can heal. A life lived well can be a life redeemed. Sometimes it doesn't take a hero, just a man, and no matter how tough life and love can be, there is forgiveness -- in Toni Morrison's new book, one can always be welcomed home.

Stephen Dau's The Book of Jonas is a disturbing gospel for our time. It has simultaneously nothing and everything to do with religion; it can be read quite literally or allegorically, and it asks us to consider what it means to be saved. It's also very much a novel about war, and guilt, and remembrance. It's big.

Jonas, of the title, is a teenaged refugee from a war in an unnamed country that sure sounds like Afghanistan. He arrives in America, where he is mocked for his accent, and where he eventually creates his own community of outsiders who are trying to (re-)invent themselves: the "slanty-eyed and dark-skinned."

The Book, of the title, is the diary kept by Christopher Henderson, an apparently well-intentioned officer in this war. Christopher finds himself in an increasingly bad situation, with all the moral ambiguity one might expect from a long counterinsurgent effort. His haunting words come to us in italics, as if from a great distance, and it soon becomes clear that Christopher himself was among those listed as "Missing in Action" in this war.

Early in the story, we learn that Christopher saved Jonas after a bombing that destroyed the younger man's village. What happened after that is much more ambiguous, as may be true about all efforts to remember. As Rose, Christopher's mother, tries to learn more about her missing son, she and we are confronted with the difficulties of knowing: the government has one version of the events, or perhaps three; Jonas cannot, or will not, be a trusted narrator; and Christopher can only speak to us through a text.

Dau's descriptive language conveys a deep sense of the tragedy of war, but he is also aiming higher than that. The book, which loosely follows the flow of a Christian worship service, offers us a different take on Christ(opher), who is literally Jonas' savior. In this light, resurrection, repentance, and goodness are fluid, and piety for both Christians and Muslims is a questionable commodity.

In the Old Testament, it is prophesied that the Lord shall usher in a time of peace where "nation will not take up sword against nation," "the wolf and the lamb shall feed together, and the lion … shall not hurt nor destroy in all my holy mountain." In the diary, there is also a moving anecdote involving a lion and a gazelle at peace with each other. Unfortunately, as with the counterinsurgency, the best of intentions are sometimes not enough.

If I had a dime for every time someone (yes, publishing world, I'm looking at you) said something was like "Downton Abbey," I'd probably have enough money to buy my very own Downton Abbey. On the surface, "Downton Abbey" and Michelle Cooper's  A Brief History of Montmaray share similarities -- both are about British families right before a world war starts and both have their fair share of drama. But in reality, A Brief History of Montmaray, is much more closely related to I Capture the Castle, Dodie Smith's often-overlooked classic about an impoverished English family living in a castle in the 1930s. So maybe using "Downton Abbey" was a semi-cheap ploy for your attention. But A Brief History of Montmaray is so good that I'm willing to resort to gimmicks just so you'll pick it up and read it.

For any fans of I Capture the Castle, this should automatically sell you on A Brief History of Montmaray, which is also about an impoverished family living in a crumbling castle in the '30s -- but this time, the family is royal. Sophie FitzOsborne and her sister live with their beautiful cousin Veronica and her father, the mad King John, in the fictional island kingdom of Montmaray, located just off the southern coast of England. The book is perfect at capturing that period feeling; Sophie's voice matches exactly how you'd expect a sixteen-year-old to sound in 1936. Sophie writes in her journal about everything that happens in the small island kingdom, including sharp observations like, "There's a fine line between gossip and history, when one is talking about kings."

The book picks up with the arrival of two German soldiers in Montmaray. Suddenly, the looming war that seemed so distant is right on their shore. What follows next is the fight to hold onto home when the world seems to be exploding.

Michelle Cooper writes beautifully, and the pacing and plot are spot on. This is a work of young adult historical fiction that you will not want to miss.

Rules for Satmar girls: No reading English-language books. Attending college is not allowed. Always wear long skirts and thick stockings. No dating boys. Between the ages of sixteen and eighteen, enter an arranged marriage. When you are a wife, shave your head and thereafter only wear wigs. Two weeks out of the month you are considered "unclean" and your husband won't touch you; submit to the mikva (ritual bath) where attendants determine if you are purified. TV, radio, and newspapers banned from the home. Welcome to the world Deborah Feldman grew up in -- until she fled her faith. Here, she chronicles her transforming journey in her candid memoir, Unorthodox.

When we first meet Deborah, she is twenty-four years old and has already left the Satmar sect of Hasidic Judaism in which she was raised in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. She traces backward, recounting her upbringing and exposing the repressive rules and expectations of her former community. Despite feelings of shame and little love from her family, Deborah had an unwavering belief that she was destined for much more than the tenets of Hasidism allowed.

Abandoned by her mother and born to a mentally disabled father, Deborah was raised by her devout grandparents in a Yiddish-speaking home. But in a community where your lineage dictates your reputation and chances in life, she would be pitied and never truly accepted. As her story unravels, we learn how Deborah was different from the other obedient girls (for example, she excelled in learning English) and felt an emptiness whereas everyone around her seemed content to follow the expected path.

Deborah was surprisingly rebellious. She began sneaking off to the library to read forbidden classics, like Pride and Prejudice and Little Women. On a forbidden radio, she tuned in to Radio Disney, and she secretly took the subway to Manhattan to see movies. And it went much deeper when she began questioning the religious ideology she was raised with, in part that suffering is God's will.

At seventeen, Deborah was married to a man she barely knew. She recounts their sexual problems -- it took them over a year to consummate the marriage -- and how she was blamed for them. Although she'd hoped for a life with her husband where she could read freely and they could break the rules together, she was sorely disappointed in his weak character. Eventually, she had a son and came up with a plan for the two of them to escape their suffocating world.

This is a captivating coming-of-age story, made all the more intriguing because of the rare look into an isolated, secretive community. It's remarkable that this sheltered young woman had the bravery and fortitude to reinvent her life from scratch. Youthful optimism helped, but it was Deborah's individuality and self-confidence that paved the way. Her happy ending, and success story, sends a message: Each of us has a past that made us who we are today, but the future is there for the taking.

Fans the world over are celebrating this very special holiday by reading the Star Wars books behind the films. Here, Richard and Kim, two "Star Wars" disciples, offer some guidance ...

Richard Callison: Hey Kim, did you know that today is May the 4th Be With You?

Kim Monahan: Woo hoo! Bring on the nachos and Margaritas!

RC: Um, no, that's Cinco de Mayo. Today is the day we celebrate the entire "Star Wars" oeuvre!

KM: Oh yeah, those were good movies, especially the first three.

RC: You mean the second three.

KM: Oh right, the ones with Leia, Luke, and my son's favorite superhero, Yoda.

RC: Yes, and those characters are also featured in many of the books!

KM: Oh, right, the books. There are a lot of them; is Han Solo in all of them?! I love Han Solo.

RC: No!! There's so much more than just the New Republic.

KM: New Republic?! If there's a New Republic there must be an Old Republic?

RC: Exactly! New Republic features all the classic characters we grew up with, but Old Republic goes further back and tells of the battles between the Jedi and the Sith Empire.

KM: Wow, that’s really interesting. What else is there?

RC: Well, you can read more about the history of the Sith Lords, the Fate of the Jedi, or even the Clone Wars.

KM: Oh, right! It's all coming back to me. There are even books about Zombie Storm Troopers! I love Han Solo.

RC: Yes …  anyway, you can look all of this up on the Star Wars timeline.

KM: Is that like the Facebook timeline?

RC: No! You can check it out here on Suvudu.com; every title is included.

KM: Wow, this is fantastic; it breaks it down by series, gives you good titles to start with, and they're all available on eBook! I love May the 4th Be With You!

RC: Yes, May the 4th Be With You, however you choose to celebrate, even with a Margarita.

KM: I love Margaritas.

In real life, both Richard and Kim have been working with Star Wars titles for a cumulative total of twenty years and are big fans of the entire series. You can check out all of the great Star Wars books here.

One of the many differences between a good book and a great book is that a great book isn’t just a great read; it’s a great experience. It sucks you in every time you turn your eyes to its chapters, keeping you fully engrossed while the outside world fades into a muffled din. You cease to see your surroundings — whether sand or subway or sofa — in your periphery. Your personal thoughts dissipate, leaving no room in your mind for anything but the story before you. Shantaram by Gregory David Roberts is a great book.

From the first sentence — "It took me a long time and most of the world to learn what I know about love and fate and the choices we make, but the heart of it came to me in an instant, while I was chained to a wall and being tortured" — Lin Ford has our attention. Our narrator is a fleeing convict, escaped from a maximum-security prison in Australia, making his way through Bombay. It is in Bombay that he meets Prabakar, an indispensable man who becomes his friend and guide through the slums of the city.

To continue to delve into the plot of the sprawling novel here, in this small space, would not do the book justice. Instead, simply know that it is a story of a search for friendship, for meaning, for love and for identity. It is a search that leads our protagonist through Mumbai, into war in Afghanistan, along the shores of Goa, and beyond. It is the kind of book from which you’ll extract passages worth highlighting and sharing and referring back to. And in addition to all of this, there's an element of autobiography.

Roberts is, in fact, an Australian ex-convict and a recovering heroin addict. He escaped Pentridge Prison in 1980, where he was serving time for bank robbery, and settled in India, remaining there for ten years. Ultimately, Roberts landed back in prison and finished serving his time. In spite of the parallels between Roberts’ life and Lin’s life, however, Roberts insists his book is fiction — and so can take creative and linguistic liberty, which only adds to the book’s beauty.

Ultimately, readers, Shantaram is a book that gets you unstuck. It is likely a different kind of book than most everything you’ve read and different than the kind of book to which you usually gravitate. It’s the book that grabs you and takes you on a journey unlike any you’ve heard of, down a different path than you’ve ever been on, expanding your willingness to read outside "your" genre, as it's done for many. Upon finishing Shantaram, this reader wanted more. Immediately, thoughts of travel to Goa and Mumbai started drifting in; research about the ever-ongoing movie rumors was undertaken.  But nothing — nothing before and nothing since — has satisfied in quite the same way that Shantaram did. Enjoy it.

In addition to being award-winning and internationally acclaimed, French novelist David Foenkinos is also a musician, so it's easy to understand the allegro pacing of his latest novel, Delicacy (for those who don't speak French or Italian, allegro is defined as quickly, fast, and bright). It's not only quick-witted but at 115 fast chapters, it's a lively read, and yes, it's bright too, which is somewhat odd to say given the subject matters of lost love, personal pain, and even workplace harassment.

Natalie has found the love of her life in Francois and they are the envy of all who know them. A quick seven years later (in pages and time), Francois is dead. Natalie must not only try to carry on without Francois, but first must make the conscious decision to do so. In walks Markus … you think you know the rest, right? But Markus is the unlikeliest of characters whose relationship with Natalie develops in the unlikeliest of ways.

Delicacy is thoughtful and touching. It's also funny and fun – mostly because throughout the novel, Foenkinos footnotes and sidebars and back-doors us with miscellaneous, not-altogether-related information that is more than mildly entertaining if not immensely clever. Included are statistics on Pez (Natalie's favorite childhood candy), allergies to fish (Charles, Natalie's boss/harasser, has one), and the number of Krisprolls sold annually (Krisprolls is a wholegrain cracker made in Sweden, Markus' native land).

The comparisons between Delicacy and the works of Nick Hornby and David Nicholls are understandable. I'd add "Love Actually" to this list, but whereas with that movie – being an ensemble cast – it's not possible to delve too deeply into character development, Delicacy stumbles a bit in trying to maintain the pacing while still supplying sufficient backstory. We know a great deal about very few things about the characters and – at times – their motivations are not always clear.

In this instance, however, simplicity and levity work. Delicacy is very much a novel about present emotions rather than emotional baggage that reminds us that love can be clumsy and embarrassing, while still being beautiful.

Bonus: Delicacy is now a movie starring Audrey Tatou of "Amelie" and "Coco Before Chanel" fame. Check out the trailer here.

It's not often that I go into a book not really knowing anything about the story or the author. Such was the case with The Newlyweds by Nell Freudenberger, though. For some reason I was expecting more of a women's commercial read. Perhaps it was too many books from my past coming to weigh on my judgment, or, it may have been the frame of mind I was in -- having just gotten married myself and being extremely happy, I was expecting more of the fairy-tale story we read in other books.

While I didn't get the story I was expecting, I did get a beautifully written, rich, layered, and sometimes-funny novel. The newlyweds in this story, George and Amina, face the same challenges many couples do: learning to live together, trying to navigate different communication styles, appreciating each other's wants and desires, facing the families as a united front, and agreeing on the right time to have children.

What makes George and Amina's marriage different than what many of us have experienced, however, is how it came to be. They met on an online site: George in Rochester, New York; Amina in Dhaka, Bangladesh. After a months-long courtship via e-mail, George flew to Bangladesh, where he and Amina spent days getting to know each other, culminating in an engagement.

The majority of The Newlyweds explores their relationship after this meeting. Amina's move to Rochester isn't quite the fairy tale she had hoped for. Besides just the shock of moving from Bangladesh to the U.S., she must learn to become comfortable with who she is. The novel is rich with what it means to navigate these differences and difficulties: religion, politics, expectations, secrets, language, family.

The author's inspiration for this tale was born from a true story. While traveling in Asia, she met a woman who was on her way to an internet-facilitated marriage in the U.S. Now a friend of the author, the woman granted permission for her life to be used for fiction.

Freudenberger has been named a New Yorker "20 under 40," won numerous awards, and had two previous books named New York Times Book Review "Notables." Her new tale of romance and relationships in the modern age only proves she is a writer to pay attention to.

Hi there. Have you found yourself unexpectedly dead? Do you have some lingering anger or unfinished business that you just can't let go of which is keeping you from moving on? Just so you know, there's a guy who can help. They call him Odd Thomas; he lives out there in Pico Mundo, California. You can usually find him working over in the diner, back behind the grill. He has a reputation for helping out the recently dead. He can see things that others can't. Just to warn you though, he's young — only twenty years old — and honestly looks like he should be hanging out at the beach rather than helping out ghosts, but he has other things up his sleeve and is definitely more than he seems.

If you don't believe me, there are a couple of celebrity endorsements you can look into. Elvis Presley, for one, has been hanging around for years trying to get Odd to understand. Oh, right, one big rule. You're not allowed to talk to Odd. I don't know why, you just can't, so do the best you can with those pantomime skills you've developed over the years. Anyway, good luck.

Oh, wait. Before you go, there are a few other things you should probably know:

1. Odd has issues. What twenty-year-old doesn't, right? Just saying, he's dealing with some stuff so it may be difficult to keep him focused. Do the best that you can.
2. If you're really desperate and really need to get him to pay attention, you can pull out all the stops and become a poltergeist. If you end up with enough pent-up anger, this will give you the ability to start throwing things around. It's very effective, but only use it as a last measure. It's very dangerous and you could end up hurting someone.
3. Very important. There are bad things out there. He calls them Bodachs. They basically look like moving piles of smoke. If you see these guys, run. If you see a lot of them, run really fast. They are attracted to evil and if they're hanging around, you know something awful is about to happen.
4. Fortunately, if you need more information, Dean Koontz has written a number of books about Odd's experiences. You can start with the first book, Odd Thomas. If you feel the need to keep going, you can read Forever Odd, Brother Odd, and Odd Hours. There's also the Odd Thomas Series of all four books if you want to get through them all at once.

As I said, good luck! See you on the other side!

Editor's Note: Robin Wasserman's latest young adult novel, The Book of Blood and Shadow, showcases her fascination with Renaissance philosophy, religion, magic, and science. For fans of The Da Vinci Code, this gripping novel is a must-read. Here, Wasserman reveals the inspiration for The Book of Blood and Shadow and gives us a scintillating, personal look into her relationship with writing.

A lot of writers seem to have more ideas than they know what to do with, piling them on some indecently high idea heap for safekeeping. A lot of writers ... but not me.

I have about one workable, meaty, novel-worthy idea every couple years, and that's after significant amounts of head banging (not the grunge rock kind; the kind that hurts) and only if I'm lucky. This makes it easy enough to remember exactly when and how the lightning struck, even when, as in the case of The Book of Blood and Shadow, it took fifteen years from spark to fire.

Back when I was still a dewy-eyed college freshman searching for a major to fall in love with (along with more immediately important things like a boyfriend, a job, and a clue), I read Arthur Koestler's The Sleepwalkers. It's ostensibly a book about Renaissance astronomy, but it's also an investigation of creativity, of genius oppressed by and defying convention, of the passion behind scientific inquiry, of irrational conviction and rational persecution, of petty battles and ridiculous vanity, and Three Stooges-esque hijinks among the inventors of the universe as we know it.

I fell in love with The Sleepwalkers — in that way you can when you're a college freshman, feeling like you're the first person in the history of learning who's ever truly learned anything — and declared a major in the history of science. Then, because it turns out studying the Renaissance in any serious way means learning Latin and caring about courtiers and various other things I wasn't willing to do, I ended up writing a thesis about LSD and going to grad school to study robots. But I never lost sight of The Sleepwalkers, and I never lost my determination to find my way back to the Renaissance and its intoxicating chaos of religion, science, philosophy, and magic.

It wasn't until grad school that it occurred to me this determination might be the seed of an idea. I was giving a presentation on Francis Yates's Rosicrucian Enlightenment, a presentation for which I had drastically, massively over-prepared (due to a seriously scary professor). I could have talked for hours about the society of alchemists and mystics who had supposedly secretly shaped western politics and science for centuries. I got two minutes — then my scary professor remembered how much he hated the book, and shut me down. Probably, I should thank him.

Because now I had: A love of Renaissance science and religion. Working knowledge of a real-life secret society. And soon (having left grad school) a lot of time on my hands.

Once I found the nerve to tackle the project, it took a few months of research to narrow in on the specifics of time, location, and character: late sixteenth-century Prague, cauldron of religious turmoil and intellectual ferment; infamously unbalanced Emperor Rudolf II; international con-man and alchemist Edward Kelley; and Kelley's stepdaughter, the teenaged poet Elizabeth Weston, who grew up to be famous in her own right. It took a trip to Prague — with much mispronunciation of phrasebook Czech and getting lost in a three-block radius of my hotel — to understand the city well enough to hazard writing about it. It took my discovery of the Voynich Manuscript — aka the world's most mysterious manuscript, ancient and anonymous and written in a code the world's best cryptographers still can't decipher — to give me a mystery worthy of the secret societies I planned to invent. And then it took all of my patience and most of my sanity to wait for the phone to ring with the announcement that someone was actually planning to publish my insane pipedream.

Somehow, it worked out. I got to spend two years of my life playing around with the ideas I'd fallen in love with two decades before, ideas about the limits of faith and the boundaries of knowledge, and skepticism and loyalty and death and choice — that are hopefully interspersed with enough murders and explosions and making out to be palatable even to those whose hearts aren't set afire by words like defenestration and astrolabe.

Hopefully Arthur Koestler would approve.

Have you noticed that food is seriously popular right now? We wait two hours to get a table at that trendy new restaurant, we take a knife-skills class to learn how to properly supreme citrus, we may only date slow-food devotees or whole-beast eaters. The various food movements sound complicated and how we actually arrived at this place in our culture that so esteems food can seem a mystery. But now, Adam Gopnik, best-selling author and veteran writer for The New Yorker, takes an intellectual stab at the basis of how we eat and why we eat what we eat in his latest book, The Table Comes First.

As if a hungry philosopher were speaking to you, Gopnik takes a scholarly approach to the history of food yet still manages to make it all so delicious. Among other tasty tidbits, he traces the origins of the restaurant (not surprisingly, it started in Paris in the late eighteenth century), gives an endearingly cranky opinion on the usage of salt, and describes the transformations of today's cookbooks, which, as he sees it, have changed from recipe books to personal storytelling and revelations from celebrity chefs.

Throughout, Gopnik also writes imaginary e-mails to Victorian food writer Elizabeth Pennell, whom he greatly admires: "She had scarily good taste." These notes focus on the epicurean and practical usage of food as ingredients, and we get useful tips and recipes through his correspondence, such as his four essential savory secrets: anchovies, bacon, cinnamon, and saffron; and his succulent recipe for the perfect "lemon-up-the-bum chicken."

We come to know Gopnik as he educates himself and us; he travels the world to taste the most celebrated dishes, experiments with food, and tests theories. As philosophical as he is, he loves cooking: At home with his family in New York City, he prepares a local meal — chicken from a Bronx slaughterhouse, Staten Island peppers, a spicy Brooklyn arugula salad. Verdict? It indeed tastes better when the ingredients are locally sourced.

Another interesting point is his dissection of our lust for desserts. "Our nearest relations among the primates, particularly chimps … love sweets and will practically die to get them." Oh, so that explains it. We evolved to want cheesecake.

This is a food book unlike any other food book you’ll encounter. It's a concoction of abstract and visceral takes on eating, much like the best recipe that produces a wonderful tagine with a hint of sweetness and umami. It's definitely amusing, interesting, and personal, with a heck of a lot of amazing food knowledge thrown in, almost like a confessional cookbook from a celebrity chef — no, just kidding. My only advice? Do not attempt to read this book on an empty stomach.

Well, not exactly hilarity. You will never see a film adaptation of Dr. Oliver Sacks' Oaxaca Journal in your Netflix queue*. But this quirky little book is a romance -- about nature, knowledge, and camaraderie. It offers a glimpse into the disappearing society of amateur scientists, where botanists climb out on ledges to look at rare ferns out of love and curiosity.

Dr. Sacks, of course, is the neurologist, psychologist, amateur chemist, and author behind such books as Uncle Tungsten and Musicophilia. He is best known for writing case studies that describe patients with interesting illnesses. He is also an amateur pteridologist, which means he studies ferns. In a way, he is a professional observer -- and, as with John McPhee's books, we read along to see what he sees that we would have missed.

Oaxaca Journal presents Sacks' notes from a weeklong visit to Mexico with other members of the American Fern Society. It shares some geekiness with Susan Orleans' brilliant The Orchid Thief, which chronicled an unlikely criminal among the South Florida orchid collectors. These characters also love plants, and they love to share what they have found, like a filmy fern that is only one cell thick. Of course, Sacks says it better, without trying for art: "There are at least ten species of these lovely, diaphanous, infinitely delicate Hymenophyllum growing in the Oaxaca rain forest."

Sacks' incidental observations, though, make this a keeper -- such as when he muses about humans' apparent need to categorize things, or whether there is a neurological basis for art that includes recurring geometric patterns, or what is the physiology behind the "ready, resting state" of a dog, just 'chilling' (my term, not his) but ready to respond instantly to a stimulus.

This is because Oaxaca Journal lets us peer into a brilliant mind, to see how it thinks and what connections it makes. Yes, it is interesting to learn about latex and the importance of the agave plant, cochineal dyes, and the role of the Zapotecs in MesoAmerican history. But the real message is one of the power of observation, where seeing and sharing and comparing and describing matters more than finding an answer via Google.

Sacks implies that the natural world is full of amazing things all around us, visible everywhere, every day, if we'd only take the time to look. Hilarity ensues.

*Actually, Sacks' book Awakenings was adapted for an acclaimed 1990 film starring Robin Williams and Robert DeNiro.

A Fine Balance is a haunting tale of morality, struggle, perseverance, and ultimately, love. Set in India during the mid-1970s, we get a glimpse of a country filled with corruption and turmoil so intrinsic it is difficult to see what good can come from anything. With beautiful prose, Rohinton Mistry takes you into the lives of four people with such great detail, it would be nearly impossible to forget their stories.

Ishvar and Omprakash Darji, an uncle and nephew duo, time and time again experience pain, with small moments of hope. Early on, Ishvar's father sends him and his brother to learn a trade and they return as tailors, only to experience resentment from higher caste members because of their near-success. This and other injustices lead to the brutal murder of Ishvar's brother, an event not rare at this time within the caste of chamaars, or "untouchables." With their family destroyed, Ishvar and his brother's son, Om, set out to find work in a city.

Mrs. Dina Dalal is a traditionally wealthy widow, living in the flat of her deceased husband, the love of her life. Her struggle for independence from her abusive brother is both tragic and inspiring. It is Dina's flat that becomes a haven, not only for the tailors but also for Maneck.

Maneck Kohlah initially comes into play as one of Dina's paying boarders. He has been sent by his parents to attend college, leaving the mountains that he loves to study refrigeration and air-conditioning, "an industry that would grow with the nation's prosperity."

As these characters' journeys unfold, we witness just how intertwined their lives really are -- and see that in spite of all that they have been through, strangers can become family. A Fine Balance will change the way you think. One quote that really resonated with me, that Mistry references multiple times is, "You have to maintain a fine balance between hope and despair." With all of life's devastations, and we've all experienced some, this heartbreaking narrative is a true testament to happiness being found in the smaller things in life.

Anna Quindlen’s  Lots of Candles, Plenty of Cake is an insightful, funny, and poignant memoir that you will most certainly re-read again and again. Much like she did with her popular column, “Life In the 30’s,” Quindlen writes invitingly about everyday life, though the focus is now on life in the 50s and 60s, and the aging baby-boomer generation of which she is a part. What’s wonderful about Quindlen’s writing is that she manages to be universally relatable, even when speaking of a very specific set of experiences. A major theme of these essays is, naturally, aging, as Quindlen is now in her late 50s, and I appreciated the different approaches she took throughout the book.

Chapters like “The Little Stories We Tell Ourselves” and “Older” are humorous, but also thoughtful. “Little Stories” recounts the joy Quindlen gets out of being able to stand on her head, or do a one-armed push up: things she always told herself she couldn’t do, especially at the age of 58. An amusing, lighthearted chapter, but also one that carried a striking message about pushing yourself to excel, no matter what the limitations. “Older” speaks of how relative the term “old” really is. What is old? Is it a creaky hip, or hot flashes? Or is it just a feeling, something that recedes into the future as you grow? Again, the chapter seems, on the surface, very directed toward Quindlen’s generation, but in spite of being part of a significantly younger generation, I found myself smiling in acknowledgment every few instances, and reflecting on the chapter later in the day.

Perhaps my favorite chapter was “Girlfriends,” which speaks of the importance of girlfriends in a woman’s life, especially as she grows older. Quindlen writes: “Ask any woman how she makes it through the day, and she may mention her calendar, her to-do lists, her babysitter … But if you push her on how she really makes it through her day, or, more important, her months and years … She will mention her girlfriends.”

Yes, woven into the chapter are mentions of babysitters, sons who bring home girlfriends, and household chores. But the sentiment is applicable to a woman in any stage of life. After all, what did I do after I read that chapter? I put down Lots of Candles, Plenty of Cake and called up a girlfriend. What did we talk about? As Quindlen says, “Who knows? Who cares … What would I do without her?”

A change is coming, and it has the potential to turn your hometown upside down. Are you ready for it? In The Great Inversion and the Future of the American City, author Alan Ehrenhalt notes that the current and rising generations of homeowners are looking for elements of downtown living in their communities — amenities like cafés, gourmet food shops, and public transit — all within steps of their front door. To meet this growing demand, city planners will have to create these communities from scratch, or risk losing these residents to nearby cities or urbanized suburbs.

As you read The Great Inversion and the Future of the American City, you’ll encounter urban elements that affect downtown viability in ways you never expected. For example, did you know that row house blocks are an impediment to urbanization? An individual house is easy to abandon (unlike a fifty-unit apartment building), but the block can’t be renovated until all the houses are empty. You may have seen these “stalled” blocks in Philadelphia or Baltimore.

Parochialism, manifesting as an inclination to shop and live within one’s neighborhood, may also slow down the development of prized downtowns. When local politicians feel pressure to support their constituents’ neighborhood’s priorities over the city’s as a whole, it can be difficult to create a downtown desirable to retailer headquarters. Moreover, distrust of outsiders discourages the settlement of immigrants who have proven, time and time again, to bring the revitalizing retail force that can jumpstart a neighborhood.

Interested yet? The Great Inversion and the Future of the American City is more than an assemblage of fun case studies; it’s also a warning. As a member of your community, you have a say in whether or not your local planners and politicians are prepared for the demographic change that’s coming our way. Alan Ehrenhalt’s interesting, informative book makes sure you know what a sound plan looks like.

Beyond Outrage, the new eBook by Robert B. Reich, is the best Occupy Wall Street book the Occupiers never made. For a movement criticized for being unorganized and without a clear message, Reich's Outrage serves to crystalize their concerns with the gravitas of a respected economist and the clarity of a man not stoned and drumming on a bongo in Zuccotti Park. His eBook is also for the folks on the sidelines. "You don't have to be an Occupier," he writes, "to conclude the Street is still out of control."

Reich hit the books at Dartmouth, Yale, and Oxford. He became the Secretary of Labor under the Clinton administration, and is now a longstanding political and economic commentator. (He's also got a funny side.) That is to say: He isn't just a personality paying lip service to a shallow doctrine. He has credentials to back his convictions, and in Beyond Outrage his convictions are brimming with light-bulb moments.

Lesson one: Under Republican President Eisenhower, the top marginal income tax rate was ninety-one percent. This past year, Mitt Romney paid fourteen percent on his twenty-plus million-dollar earnings. Somewhere in Omaha, Warren Buffett is endlessly sighing.

Lesson two: Unemployment. The jobs we lost in the recession paid between $19.05 and $31.40 an hour. The jobs we've gained since? They average $9.03 to $12.91 an hour.

The lessons go on, but the point remains: When these fishy factoids stand alone, they are undoubtedly a cause for alarm. Brought together, they're a cause for outrage.

Even a scratched Adele album doesn't sound as depressing as our nation's broken record: Congress is gridlocked. The people are frustrated. The zeitgeist of post-recession America is an angry one. In political cartoons, steam is blowing from our ears and our eyes are bloodshot and bemused. We get it! In a country where politics is controlled by purse strings, people have every right to be fed up. But anger only begets anger. Reich relays a long-awaited message of hope. The anger is surmountable, he argues, and must be in order to realize change. Beyond Outrage lays the groundwork to get us there.

There are a few things you don't expect to see in a young adult book. Somewhere near the top of the list would probably be Hell. Fiery depths? Eternal torment? Isn't that a little bit rough for this age group? But that's what makes Dale E. Basye's Heck so surprising, and so great. Basye takes his crazy premise and pushes it to silly and ridiculous extremes. The result is a fast-paced, witty, and incredibly fun book.

It would be hard to list all the things that this book gets right. First things first: It's hilarious. Roald Dahl gets a lot of credit for writing wickedly funny books that appeal to children's darker sense of humor. But, really, he has nothing on Basye. In the first chapter alone, Heck's two young protagonists, Milton and Marlo, are done in by a freak marshmallow accident. Now that's a gutsy move! But it's all done with perfect timing and tone, and the book is darkly comic, instead of just being dark.

Most of the humor comes from gloriously gross things. Each demon that Milton and Marlo meet in Heck is more disgusting than the last, and each punishment is crazier and more severe. The feel of the book is over the top, with each chapter topping the next with its inventive ideas and sickening situations. It will have kids laughing aloud, because it's clearly for them and them alone. No adults allowed!

Throughout Heck, you can sense how much fun the author had writing each page. While reading, I kept imagining what his brainstorming sessions were like, and wishing I had been there. ("Well, if kids go to Heck, then the principal has to be the devil! And instead of pitchforks, everyone should have sporks!") Every page is chock-full of clever ideas, puns, and wordplay. It's impossible not to get caught up in the excitement.

However, for all its wacky monsters and bizarre locations, the book still rings true. Every ironic punishment feels like something kids actually experience (trips to the principal's office, wearing horrible clothing, etc.). Even better, Milton and Marlo are smart and dynamic kids surrounded by idiotic adults. And really, what preteen doesn't feel like that?

A surprisingly sweet aspect of the book is the brother and sister relationship between Marlo and Milton. This is the most accurate portrayal of that dynamic I've read in a long time. They get on each other's nerves. They live to bother each other, and often want nothing to do with each other. But underneath it all, you can see the tender feelings that they would never admit having. The negativity makes their sibling relationship feel more real, but the affection between the pair makes you root for them to pull together in the end.

In short, Heck is super fun. It's adventurous, exciting, and laugh-out-loud funny, and should be catnip for preteens. For avid readers, there are plenty of more Heck books after this initial one in the series. And for reluctant readers, this is the first book that I would throw in their direction.

Loretta Lynn is an icon in the world of country music. She makes no apologies for who she is or where she is from. The hit songs that she wrote and recorded are infused with her hard-scrabble upbringing in the mountains of Kentucky during the 1930s and '40s. Upon reading the preface and opening letter of her autobiography, Loretta Lynn: Coal Miner's Daughter, it is immediately apparent that she is both bigger than life and down-to-earth at the same time. Her prose reads in a straightforward manner — simple, raw, and Southern like so many of the songs that have made her famous. She doesn't know any other way to be, and that is why we love her.

Loretta was born in the Appalachian back-country community of Butcher Hollow (pronounced "Holler" by Loretta and the locals) and married at the age of thirteen. She lived life a bit differently than today's average American. She says as much, "Holler people are just different from anybody else." Considering that her first car ride didn't occur until she was twelve, nor did she see a toilet with running water until she was married, she has come a long way.

With a tumultuous marriage (her husband cheated on her several times) and a deep understanding of the troubles of America's impoverished mountain people, Loretta expressed herself in song. And thank heavens she did. Whether she was writing a song about the importance of birth control for women (The Pill), or putting another woman in her place for sleeping with her man (Fist City), Loretta's music is a source of solace and inspiration when things get rough or when you've been mistreated. Through these songs, Loretta became more than just a cultural icon in the world of country music; she broke out of that genre to become a friend to the downhearted everywhere — country music fan or not.

Loretta Lynn's biography isn't one to read because you share a similar background — although it is fine if you do — but it is a good story to read because Loretta "gets it." She illustrates the common thread that humanity has stitched throughout. It isn't about where you are from or how much education you have; it is about being human and working through this crazy life together. Loretta has proven through millions of albums sold and sold-out concerts all across the nation that her wisdom is about more than just being a simple coal miner's daughter. It is universal in terms of the human condition, making her songs just as relevant decades after they were first released.

Jens Lapidus has been hailed as the next Stieg Larsson and from his electrifying crime novel, Easy Money, it is clear why. Lapidus' gritty story is set in Stockholm and depicts an underworld of Euro-mobsters and their unending desire for drugs, power, cash, and revenge. Connected with this sinister set is a group of rich, young things on the party scene, and it would appear a penchant for violence does not discriminate whether you're wearing Prada or prison couture. Our narrators are the criminals from both of these worlds, who expose a tangle of double lives and double-dealing. As they risk everything, we fall into their shadowy world and experience a taste of their intoxicating ride.

I began wondering what made the author create such disturbingly despicable yet somehow sympathetic characters. Luckily for me, Jens Lapidus took the time to answer a few of our burning questions about what went into the making of this novel.

Everyday eBook: Why did you decide to tell this story from the perspectives of the criminals rather than taking a more traditional route where we follow a detective unraveling a crime?

Jens Lapidus: I want to expand the borders of the traditional Scandinavian crime fiction. I figured that since we have people in Sweden for whom committing crime is something natural, and a part of their lifestyle, it must be fascinating to see crime from their eyes. In my job as a defense lawyer, I encounter a lot of people from the Stockholm underworld, and I wanted to tell their story; I wanted my readers to get into the heads of people they rarely understand. This approach received an enormous response among the reading public in the Scandinavian countries and many other countries around the world.

EE: Both the glittering nightlife and the seedy underworld seem extremely authentic. What kind of research did you do?

JL: I get a lot of my research for free, from my job. Having said that, the client-attorney-privilege is a holy principle to be upheld. This means that there are many stories I will never be able to tell. It also means that in the future I might find it impossible to continue to write the tales from the Stockholm gutter the way I do. Then I am thinking of switching to ... I do not know ... love stories, perhaps?

EE: The characters of JW and Jorge both have sisters who motivate them. What made you choose the role of sister as the most influential woman in each of their lives?

JL: Family is always important, whether you are a tough gangster or an upcoming drug dealer striving to make it in the posh inner city of Stockholm. I also wanted to show how family relations may be severed by a criminal lifestyle.

EE: Characters with dual natures surface in this novel. For instance, Mrado is the murderous muscle who is also a tender, loving dad. Do you think good and evil can exist simultaneously?

JL: Yes, I do. I do not believe in monsters or angels, black or white. All human beings are somewhere in between. That is not to say that all are the same, but that when you go deeper into a character a more complex personality will emerge. It is simply about human nature.

EE: Your novel depicts Swedes as being biased against non-Swedes. Is this an accurate portrayal and is Stockholm as dangerous as your book (and Stieg Larsson's works) makes it seem?

JL: To some extent there is an indirect structural racism in Sweden. The formal laws and the authorities are not racist, but you will definitely have a more difficult time finding a job if you are born in Somalia than in Gothenburg. Stockholm is like most major European cities -- it can be dangerous and there are a lot of problems with drugs, violence, and prostitution. Having said that, I still believe it is a relatively good and safe place to live. The Russian journalists I met a couple of months ago said: "You are describing organized crime in Stockholm. It is all quite cute."

This book translates perfectly to the big screen. Check out the Swedish film, Snabba Cash, coming soon to theaters. Watch the trailer here.

I see your eyes rolling, hear your sighs and feel your criticisms breathing down my neck as you realize that I am attempting to give you an overview of Stephen King's Dark Tower series in under 500 words. "You'd have better luck wrapping up the bible," you say sarcastically. "It would take fewer words." That could be true. The average translation of the bible has 1,500 pages. The Dark Tower Series? Over 3,700.

But did you know that these 3,700 pages were inspired by Robert Browning's poem, Childe Roland to the Dark Tower Came? A poem that is a total of 204 lines inspired what King calls his Magnum Opus. And in fact, although Browning claimed that the poem came to him in a 'kind of dream' he also said it was inspired by a line from Shakespeare's King Lear:

Child Rowland to the dark tower came,
His word was still 'Fie, foh, and fum
I smell the blood of a British man.
—King Lear, Act 3, scene 4

Wow. Shakespeare (plus) Browning (equals) Stephen King. And not only King! Browning's Childe Roland inspired (but is not limited to inspiring):

-A. S. Byatt in the form of the character Roland Michell in Possession: A Romance.
-John Connolly's novel The Book of Lost Things featured an appearance from the soldier Roland.
-Terrance Dicks, screenwriter of "Doctor Who's" Twentieth Anniversary special "The Five Doctors," has cited it as a source.
-Neil Gaiman, Terry Prachett, and P.G. Wodehouse also pay tribute in different ways.
-etc., etc.

But despite all of the above (in particular, your doubts), I have to try and see through my original intent to review The Series ... there are people who can sum up Moby Dick in under thirty seconds, you know. So here goes it ...

Roland The Dark Man goes into the desert. The Dark Man Roland follows.* Roland gets to the tower. And in between a whole lotta shit happens. Some of it's good, some of it's bad, much of it I love and a little of it I don't. And I'm blatantly hoping this bold statement will inspire passionate debating in the comments. Oh, and it has the most brilliant ending to a book or series of books that I have ever read. (OMG, he could start over, he could start over!)

Sigh. Yes, not my best effort. But I sincerely hope I made it up to you with the story behind The Story. And as April is Poetry Month it seems fitting to me that King's latest installment in Roland's story, The Wind Through the Keyhole, will release on April 24. Wouldn't I love to celebrate poetry month by grabbing a beer with Browning and Shakespeare to discuss The Gunslinger!?

*Please forgive the slip. Of course I know how the story goes, but sometimes the pen is faster than the mind

There's simply too much information to process in the digital world. If facts were food, we'd be suffering from some terrible indigestion. When we're not 'haz'-zing cheeseburgers, we're breading cats. On top of it all, our downtime is dwindling as we fend for ourselves in the onslaught of memes, messages, and breaking news updates. So who's around to filter the flood? Cue the political panacea. Emerging as innovators in the digital space, Politico's Mike Allen and Evan Thomas have teamed up to write four eBooks documenting the GOP race to the White House. The aptly named Inside the Circus marks their second foray in the POLITICO-sponsored series, one that's proving to redefine journalism as we know it in the twenty-first century.

Running a race all their own, Allen and Thomas have spun the chaos of political posturing and etch-a-sketch moments into a lively, informative, and all-out raucous political ride.

Inside the Circus delivers with true reporting gusto: It's thorough, relatable, revealing, and spread with just the right dose of drama. Because, let's be real, this GOP race has been one mudslinging mess of a season.

The eBook is at its best, however, when detailing the uncensored remarks by consultants and advisors.We all know there’s been plenty of jaw-dropping chatter, and Inside the Circus doesn’t hesitate to highlight the best of it. These candid remarks are so core to what makes Inside the Circus such a compelling read. Perhaps most importantly, Mike Allen and Evan Thomas have taken an important step toward curing societal FOMO: our desperate 'Fear of Missing Out.' If we're honest with ourselves, brooding within the incessant din of the twenty-four-hour news cycle is a wish among many Americans to hit the pause button; to hush the feigned sensationalism and the media bites; to step back and breathe in the bigger picture. Sometimes when we move too fast, we focus on the speed and forget the things that pass.

Inside the Circus is your political breather. Sifting through the slush, Inside the Circus strings together vignettes and key moments to form a crafted master narrative. With Romney now touted by the media as the GOP nominee, fodder for the next Playbook will be rich and endless. Two down, two to go. I'm in for the ride. Are you?

How far would you go to resolve your financial woes? To "make a killing"? Aravind Adiga brilliantly tackles this question in his novel Last Man in Tower, in which the residents of Vishram Society, a cooperative apartment building in Mumbai, are faced with a sudden opportunity. In Vakola, a rapidly changing neighborhood on the border of a slum, land has become a hot commodity in a city that is desperately crowded. Dharmen Shah, a scrappy real estate mogul, is prepared to pay a princely sum to buy out the current occupants so he can tear their building down and build a new luxury apartment tower. However, they must all agree to take the money and move out -- and they don't all agree.

As time wears on toward the developer's deadline, neighbors are pitted against neighbors, families are torn apart, and long-buried dreams come to life. The clashes reflect the changing nature of Mumbai itself, where, in real life, a notorious slum lies surprisingly close to a star cricket player's nine-million-dollar mansion.

Adiga, who won the 2008 Man Booker prize for his debut novel, The White Tiger, virtually turns Mumbai itself into a character. The overcrowded train compartments, the half-built concrete towers, blue tarpaulins flapping in the monsoon rains, water that trickles from kitchen faucets, greasy samosas, schoolchildren studying astronomy, raw ambition, undying patience: This is modern India at its best and at its worst, but the underlying tragedy is universal.

The novel's characters are complex, and the author gives us a chance to understand the impurity of everyone's motives. In this city, virtually everything is for sale. "In the continuous market that runs right through southern Mumbai, under banyan trees, on pavements, beneath the arcades of the Gothic buildings, in which food, pirated books, perfumes, wristwatches, meditations beads, and software are sold, one question is repeated, to tourists and locals, in Hindi or in English: What do you want?"

A lesser author would have stopped there, but Adiga forces us to confront our own wants, and our attitudes toward success and failure, more directly. Is it wrong to want more? What if "getting" comes at the expense of the elderly, the sick, the poor, the past? What if saying "no" merely reflects a stubborn fear of change? What shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul? Can India become a modern country without losing its own soul? These are marvelous questions to be wrung out of a simple tale about a real-estate buyout.

As Last Man In Tower moves steadily toward its conclusion, the reader cringes but peers through her fingers to keep reading. The novel is funny, literate, bitter, and profound. It earns our respect, and it deserves our attention.

When Rachel Maddow appeared on "The Daily Show" recently to discuss Drift: The Unmooring of American Military Power, Jon Stewart noted that television hosts often write lightweight books. "You appear to have invested a great deal of research in this," he said, "(and) it's making everybody look bad." No surprise. As many know, the host of MSNBC's "The Rachel Maddow Show" is a graduate of Stanford and Oxford University, and she actually discusses ideas with her guests, liberal and conservative alike.

Drift is a serious attempt to discuss how our national security apparatus has become the monolith that Dwight Eisenhower once warned about -- and how we can change. Our country was founded with suspicion about the dangers of a strong central government and the risks of a standing army. For most of our history, we shrank the military when our wars ended. Somewhere around 1980, though, this changed.

Although Maddow is an unabashed liberal, she doesn't claim a vast right-wing conspiracy, even though this argument might have sold more books. Rather, she makes the case that …  it just … happened. She observes that, despite constitutional restrictions to the contrary, each administration has made choices that have incrementally concentrated more power in the Executive Branch of government. The result is that we have drifted into the kind of unchecked Federal power that rightfully scares both liberals and conservatives.

While President Reagan had growing concerns about a Communist threat in Central America, Congress had growing concerns about him. After all, it is Congress' job to declare war. Our founders designed the system this way to slow down any march to war, so no president could single-handedly commit America to a military operation. With details that are both hilarious and depressing, Maddow walks us through what happened over the next few decades. And ultimately, we have an enormously powerful military, but one that seems to have drifted dangerously away from core principles. (Wait until you hear the one about the nuclear missiles that were lost.)

Maddow isn't without hope. In fact, unlike many of her peers, she makes specific recommendations, concluding her book with eight practical ideas on how to "descope" this problem. With the intelligence and humor that are her trademark, she pitches "a 'small c' conservative return to our constitutional roots." Let's hope that voters, and members of Congress, are listening.

Cath Crowley's Graffiti Moon achieves the minor miracle of capturing disillusioned teen voices in a way that not only avoids the pitfalls of many young-adult stereotypes, but also reaches a level of poeticism that is simply sublime.

It's the end of senior year for Lucy Dervish (year twelve, if you want to stay true to the book's Aussie roots), and she has one golden opportunity to find Shadow, a local graffiti artist whose street art has captured her heart. Lucy has never met him in person, but somehow she knows that a guy like Shadow is someone she could really fall for.

So when Ed, a local dropout, says he knows where to find Shadow, Lucy goes along for the ride, despite their colorful history together. Thus begins an all-night adventure filled with mistaken identities, awkward romance, whip-smart humor, and soaring lyricism. For the reader, it is also an aching journey into the inner-workings of two young aspiring artists trying to figure out themselves and each other. Ed knows a lot more than he lets on about Shadow. And little does Lucy realize, the one thing she's been looking for is standing right in front of her.

Reading this novel is like discovering your favorite poem for the first time on every other page. There are certain passages and lines throughout that grab at you and don't let go until you've taken a moment to examine them and appreciate their depth.

On top of all that, the characters are dead-on funny, smart, and every bit the frenetic dreamers you remember yourself being once. So go ahead, pop on some Jimmy Eat World, read Graffiti Moon, and recapture the excitement of a time when the future seemed to offer everything and nothing at the same time.

My plan was to sit down with one glass of Grüner Veltliner and merely start reading The Vanishers, Heidi Julavits' latest novel. What happened, of course, was that "one" became "a few." I was transfixed from page one and needed do what it took to stay where I was, as the five-minute walk home would have been five minutes I wasn't reading further -- an unacceptable prospect.

Though "Julavits" has been a password in literary circles for years (who hasn't recommended The Uses of Enchantment to me?), this was my first time reading her. Ostensibly the story of Julia Severn, a student at a workshop for psychic development who suffers a psychic attack at the hand of her jealous mentor, the hook was enough to get me to hungrily open this book. But it was everything else I found that kept me devouring it.

The Vanishers is a supernatural thriller for adults. It jettisons the standard "gee-whiz, isn't [interchangeable paranormal force] fascinating?" minutiae and takes the existence of astral phenomena for granted. Effectively, this widens the novel's canvas while sidestepping restrictive childlike wonder. Unfettered, a bracing investigation into loss, emotional inheritance, and identity masterfully unfurls.

Partially as a way to attempt recovery from the psychic attack that has left her sickly, partially in the name of tracking a controversial feminist artist who has gone missing (and may have had ties to Julia's mother, who committed suicide when her daughter was only a month old), Julia falls in with an eccentric pair that trades in "vanishing." To vanish, we’re told, is to "reambiguate" oneself -- "leave and never go home." Imagine a witness protection program for the emotionally disenfranchised. To execute her charge, Julia vanishes as well, but her past and its dangerous questions are never far behind.

Teeming with striking philosophy about personal history ("The past is not the past if it is always present. Memory is an act of murder."), The Vanishers asks big (compelling!) questions about what we inherit from our forbearers and the value of a backward focus. As a novelist, Julavits is distinctly original, but I feel I gleaned a sense of her own inheritances while reading this novel. At times, wills-o-the-wisp illuminating shades of Woolf, Mann, and Brookner flashed, and Sylvia Plath's suicide is more explicitly used as a cryptic parable. But none of this renders The Vanishers derivative.

The discoveries that Julia makes about the past and how it truly relates to her present and her future are some of the most exciting surprises in the book, so I will leave them for others to find on their own. It's heartening while reading The Vanishers, though, to know that this heroine is in the hands of a writer with such faculty of the past she has inherited that you can feel the literary tradition coursing through her work, even as she pushes herself to an exciting level of originality.

April 15, 2012, marks the centennial anniversary of the sinking of the RMS Titanic. We remember this tragedy and imagine her passengers' range of emotions: excitement about traveling on the biggest, latest, most luxurious, and technologically advanced ocean liner to terror as they witnessed a catastrophic fate unfolding. In the new book Gilded Lives, Fatal Voyage, Hugh Brewster presents a never-before-seen glimpse of the rich-and-famous set on the Titanic. He specifically looks at the first-class passengers and re-creates their luxurious atmosphere while presenting their personal narratives. Through these millionaires, authors, and actresses, we are given insight into the arts, politics, and culture of the time, as we join them throughout this doomed maiden voyage.

Of course, there are many other books about Titanic that tell the equally important stories of both the affluent passengers and the less-lucky ones in steerage, as well as gripping accounts from survivors. Here are a few other eBook recommendations about this heart-wrenching disaster, which brought out the best and worst of human nature.

Titanic: The Death and Life of a Legend, by Michael Davie
Journalist Michael Davie investigates the events, controversies, and legends that have surrounded Titanic's tragic sinking. Davie offers insightful portraits of the protagonists and dramatizes the confusing and terrifying hours that passed from the moment the ship hit the iceberg until its survivors were picked up by the USS Carpathia a full day later. Newly updated on the hundredth anniversary of the tragedy by Titanic expert Dave Gittins, Titanic: The Death and Life of a Legend will fascinate Titanic experts, amateurs, and newcomers alike.

Titanic: Uncovering the Secrets of the World's Greatest Shipwreck, by National Geographic
National Geographic revisits the romance, glory, and tragedy of this tremendous ship and presents an insider’s look at the new findings about the passengers and scientific study of the wreck site.

Voyagers of the Titanic: Passengers, Sailors, Shipbuilders, Aristocrats, and the Worlds They Came From, by Richard Davenport-Hines
Voyagers of the Titanic follows the stories of the men, women, and children whose lives intersected on the vessel's fateful last day, covering the full range of first, second, and third class -- from plutocrats and captains of industry to cobblers and tailors looking for a better life in America.

101 Things You Thought You Knew About the Titanic, by Tim Maltin
People have an endless fascination with Titanic, yet much of what they know today is a mixture of fact and fiction. In one hundred and one brief and engaging chapters, Tim Maltin, one of the foremost experts on Titanic, reveals the truth behind the most common beliefs about the ship and the night it sank.

A Night to Remember, by Walter Lord
Walter Lord's definitive re-telling of the events of Titanic's only voyage is based on interviews with sixty-three survivors. This is the book that made Lord famous.

The Dressmaker: A Novel, by Kate Alcott
Tess, an aspiring seamstress, thinks she's had an incredibly lucky break when she is hired by famous designer Lady Lucile Duff Gordon to be a personal maid on the Titanic's doomed voyage. Once on board, Tess catches the eye of two men, one a roughly-hewn but kind sailor and the other an enigmatic Chicago millionaire. But on the fourth night, disaster strikes.

Distant Waves: A Novel of the Titanic, by Suzanne Weyn (Young Adult)
Four sisters and their mother make their way from a spiritualist town in New York to London, becoming acquainted with journalist W. T. Stead, scientist Nikola Tesla, and industrialist John Jacob Astor. When they all find themselves on Titanic, one of Tesla's inventions dooms them ... and one could save them.

Shadow of the Titanic, by Andrew Wilson
Andrew Wilson brings to life the colorful voices of many of those who lived to tell the tale, from famous survivors like Madeleine Astor, Lady Duff Gordon, and White Star Line chairman J. Bruce Ismay, to lesser known second- and third-class passengers.

If you asked me in my 20s about my likes I would have replied Chocolate, Margaritas, Dominate. In my not-20s the answers are radically different – Vanilla, Bellinis, Submit. And by Submit, of course I mean Relax.

Hey, pssst … shhhhhh. You. Yes. You. Have you read it? Or do you want to? Don't play coy with me. You know I'm talking about E L James' Fifty Shades of Grey.

What is it that makes Fifty Shades of Grey so appealing? What makes it such a steamy read? My answer may shock you. It wasn't about the hot sex, although there was plenty of it, and it certainly makes you turn the pages quickly. It wasn't about the story line or the dialogue, either. For me, there are two reasons, and they both have to do with Christian Grey, the oh-so-Domineering Leading Man.

Reason Number One: He’s B-A-D
Meet Ana: On the verge of graduating college, gorgeous in that typical Hollywood ingénue type of way, with the overstated best friend and boy in the wings whom she doesn’t like in the same way he likes her. Meet Christian: GORGEOUS, FILTHY RICH and (oh yes! Every Girl’s Dream) B-A-D.

Think about this for a few minutes: He's exquisite. He's a BILLIONAIRE. He's smart and sexy and charming. He's a tad damaged, but that only makes it more exciting, doesn't it? He thinks you are beautiful. He adores you and wants to spoil you. He takes the stress out of having to make any decisions from your everyday life, and you are to focus on only yourself. Honestly, I say bring it on.

Reason Number Two: He’s B-A-D
Many have dubbed this "Mommy Porn" as there is sex – a lot of it – and, although it is not that unconventional, you know that it has been in his past and most likely will be in their future. Hmmmm, but Mommy Porn? If I were to define Mommy Porn, I would say it wasn't about sex, but about the fact that Ana doesn't have to do a damn thing but relax and enjoy. There is no reason for her to stress out. (Although she does, silly girl. Just like a couple with their first baby, she has no idea how E-A-S-Y it all can be.) Christian showers her with gifts, wants to buy her a new wardrobe, and quickly falls for her, a first for him. And he does it all (well, almost all of it – wink wink) in record speed. Wow. Doing. Nothing. But. Relaxing. Not cooking, folding laundry, or having to make a single decision of importance. Just reading about it lifted a weight off my shoulders.

And that wraps it up … with a grey silk tie.

Want more? I won't make you beg. Try Eden Bradley’s Dark Garden, Anne Rice’s Claiming of Sleeping Beauty series, or for something with more of an edge, Laura Reese’s Topping From Below.

George Dyson is a best-selling author and historian of technology who has long studied the evolution of digital computing and telecommunications. Alan Turing was a mathematician who is considered to be the father of computer science and artificial intelligence. In Dyson's latest brilliant work, Turing’s Cathedral, he explores the origin and expansion of the digital universe -- which began with Turing's innovative vision, how code has taken over our world, and where the digital universe may be heading next. Dyson spoke with Everyday eBook and left us craving more of his theories and insights as to where our future lies.

Everyday eBook: Tell us about Turing's Cathedral, your most recent book.

George Dyson: It took me ten years to write it, and it was long overdue. The subtitle is The Origins of the Digital Universe. We are all living in this digital world -- you've got your digital recorder there probably filling up 32,000 bits per second from our conversation -- but we don't really have a common creation myth of how this all began. And it goes back to a single point. With biological life we don't really know where life started, but with the digital universe there's a point at which it didn't exist and then a point when it did exist. I went to find this out, and of course, it's a very interesting story. Half the work is doing your research, but the other half, the harder part, is making it into a story people can read.

EE: With a ten-year span of creating this story, the digital world has changed quite a bit. Did this rapid evolution change the way that you had conceived of this book in the beginning?

Dyson: No, I think that this is one of the good things about studying history: If you're writing about the beginning of the digital world you can take ten years to develop the story and the origins are still there. Whereas if you set out to write a book about Google and you take two years to write it, it will be out of date.

EE: What does the title refer to, exactly, and why is this a good point to start?

Dyson: Alan Turing was this very bright young student who, at twenty-four, published a paper that remains absolutely the most important thing that has ever been written about the way computers -- computers that weren't even invented yet -- work, and he did it out of thin air. He also became very interested in the question of artificial intelligence, and he thought about that long before other people. He made a statement in 1950 to answer the critics who said that he was trying to play God by creating intelligent computers. He said no, just as with human reproduction, we are not creating souls, we are creating the mansions for the souls that only God can create. I'd had that thought in the back of my mind for a long time, and when I went to visit Google in 2005 I saw that Google really is doing this, they're building a true artificial intelligence and doing everything Turing ever dreamed of. I thought about Turing's mansion: his mansions for souls, and this wasn't a mansion, it was a cathedral. The phrase stuck and became the title for the book.

EE: Casual readers may know about Turing, but might not know the extent of his work. Is your book something that the layperson can pick up and read?

Dyson: I don't think that it takes a technical background. The reason to start at the beginning is that when Turing had to explain his ideas no one then knew what a computer was, and he had to explain it very clearly. Most of the book is non-technical. It's the human story of who did what and when and the relationships between these very interesting people. Like many people who become known for one idea, Turing was misunderstood. In the same way that Darwin was not really a Darwinist, we think of Turing as having invented this very deterministic form of computation but he actually spent a lot of his life thinking about non-deterministic computation. And that's the future that still awaits.

Want more? Check out a few additional questions with Turing on Suvudu.com.

The workouts are starting and the fields are getting groomed. Now here's a scouting report on the spring lineup of baseball books to get toned up for the season.

First up, an unexpected curve ball from an ace: John Grisham's new novel, Calico Joe. Firmly set in the world of Major League Baseball, there isn't a lawyer in sight, but Calico Joe has all the suspense of a full count. Grisham's focus is a phenom on a crash course with destiny and a washed-up journeyman with a major league axe to grind.

It's 1973 and Joe Castle, "Calico Joe," a five-tool star from the fields of Arkansas, has arrived into the heart of Chicago. He is rewriting the record books for rookies and giving Cub fans legitimate hope for the first time in decades. Enter Warren Tracey, an over-the-hill pitcher who can't beat his opponents (so he finds other outlets for his rage) and his son, Paul Tracey, estranged from both his dad and the game he loves until chance throws him a perfect pitch.

Grisham knows his baseball and has a true fan's deep appreciation of the game, striking a pitch-perfect tone throughout. It's thrilling on the field, but it's what happens off the diamond that makes Calico Joe a classic.

From the nonfiction side of the plate, here are some other great reads for both casual fans and hardcore fanatics to explore the game and some of its historic moments:

Imperfect: An Improbable Life, by Jim Abbott and Tim Brown
A true story of one man overcoming the insurmountable odds of being born with one hand and going on to become a major league pitcher, as well as a quarterback and an Olympic gold medalist. Framed around his no-hitter, his almost perfect game, Abbott's book is an honest portrayal of what it's like to be a professional athlete and what it takes for one labeled "disabled" to prove it's what's in the heart that counts.

Lefty: An American Odyssey, by Vernona Gomez
Here is the story of Yankee great, Lefty Gomez, as told by his daughter, Vernona Gomez, and Lawrence Goldstone. Lefty Gomez was the Forrest Gump of baseball -- he vacationed with Babe Ruth, consoled Lou Gehrig, roomed with DiMaggio, started in the first All-Star Game, won six World Series games, played a mean sax, and was loved by all who crossed his path. Unbelievable? Believe it. A not-to-be-missed tale from baseball's glory days.

Stan Musial: An American Life, by George Vecsey
This is a love letter about the greatest hitter in National League history. Want to know more about the time when there was no such thing as night games and steroids weren't an issue? When players traveled by train all across the country and stayed with the same team forever? Stan Musial puts you squarely back onto the field and into the clubhouse of that magical time in the game's history.

Satchel, by Larry Tye
No baseball roundup is complete without a tip of the hat to Satchel Paige. Larry Tye's Satchel is an ode to perhaps the greatest pitcher in baseball history, who had the talent and ability to draw fans and opened the eyes of the then highly-prejudiced baseball world. Inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame in 1971, Paige was the first player to be included from the Negro leagues. At forty-two, Paige was also the oldest rookie to play in the Major Leagues, with the St. Louis Browns. Not only a historic figure and hugely talented athlete, Paige's flair and personality were also legendary and he is known for delivering some of the great baseball quotes like: "I ain't ever had a job, I just always played baseball." A noteworthy and critically acclaimed sports biography, Satchel is rich with history and hugely entertaining to boot.

Batter up!