Protection from Erasure by Sami Miranda is the poetry of a man who is close. Close to people, close pain, and close to hope. Miranda is embedded into the arts community of Washington, DC and, as such, is a witness to it. His pages carry the truth of what happens to young lives when we look away. He brings stories you wish were not true to the center of the page and hearkens on the reader to see the world as it is so that we can make it into what it ought to be.

Grief is Love. I scarcely feel the need to say anything other than the title to express the gravity of this book. Marisa Renee Lee invites the reader into her experience of loss to root what she’s learned in the concrete. She is clear that loss is different for everyone and she often says “your person” when talking about who the reader has lost. This simple phrase is the reminder of that the loved one you lost is very much still yours and that your love is as persistent and enduring as your grief.

Fake It Til You Bake It is slightly deeper than your typical beach read. When an ex-reality tv show contestant and a social media-phobe collide, the two must decide for themselves the parts of their story that are real. In creating a neurodivergent protagonist, Wesley’s exploration of insecurities goes past the traditional trust issues of the genre and pushes toward a self-acceptance beyond platitudes.

Where We’re Going to Need More Wine had a clear and progressive story arch, You Got Anything Stronger? is a bit more staccato. If Union’s second memoir were music, it would be more of a “greatest hits” than a concept album. This collection of stories and essays tackles a new stage in her life—that of motherhood. She doesn’t pretend to have it figured out and instead pulls back the veil of celebrity to show that not everything that glitters on Instagram is gold.

Little Fires Everywhere showcases the tenderness and ferocity of motherhood. Rather than preaching right or wrong, Ng creatively brings you into the the thought process of each character and invites you to form your own opinion. What struck me most about the book was its rootedness in place. Shaker Heights is more than a backdrop to the story, it is a living, breathing character that drives the plot toward its fiery end.

Akwaeke Emezi pushes the boundaries of Romance with this gorgeous novel. Defying the typical levity of the genre, Emezi plays with both light and shadow, telling a story of love after loss. The characters feel like people I could have brunch with this weekend and the drama is as raw and messy as it is beautiful.

La Brega is often translated as “the struggle” but has no exact equivalent. After Hurricane Maria, a lot of people started talking about Puerto Rico and the struggles Puerto Ricans face. This co-production from WNYC Studios and Futuro Studios gives Puerto Ricans a platform to share their own experiences. The show relies on Puerto Ricans to define La Brega and illuminates the forces, past and present, that maintain “the struggle” as a standard fixture on and off the archipelago.

Boricua en la Luna captures the depth and breadth of Puerto Rican experiences through poems, essays and short stories written by Boricuas across the diaspora. Published in the wake of Hurricane Maria, the collection is a connecting point, a beacon, an anchor and an ode. I didn’t expect to feel so seen by such a short book and needed to take time with each piece. The title comes from a song that proclaims, “I would be a Boricua (a Puerto Rican) even if I were on the moon.” The anthology conveys the gravity that keeps Boricuas connected to our culture, in spite of all odds.

Kelsey McKinney leans into her journalistic curiosity (nosiness) and superb storytelling in this delightfully chaotic podcast. Each episode begins with guests reflecting on what gossip means to them—challenge to power dynamics, whisper network, lighthearted fun, mayhem. Then they get into it and each story is wilder than the last. McKinney is great at building the imagery and energy of the moment and I feel like I’m right across the table from her, margarita in hand, for the unpredictable twists of stories that rival fiction.

Laci Mosley forges a new genre with this “True Con” podcast. Every week, she regales guests with unbelievable stories of fraud past and present. In addition to giant laughs from both the stories and random rabbit holes along the way, I’ve also learned a lot about scams to look out for in a world where scammers are here to stay.

Love is woven into every page of Rachel Held Evans’ final masterpiece. Her dear friend, Jeff Chu, completed the work for her with support from her husband, Dan. Chu midwifed this book to the world and truly captured Rachel’s voice—a voice I hold dear and miss very much.

Cole Arthur Riley forged a new genre with her first published book. Riley seamlessly weaves together her grandmother’s and father’s stories with her own experience in a work of art that makes you question how Christianity could have ever gotten so far away from the embodiment that gives faith meaning. It is poetry, biography, memoir, devotion and something else for which we need to build a word.

This is, without a doubt, the most thoughtful gift I have ever received. My best friend, Mita, compiled all of my poetry from more than a decade of friendship and made it into a real life book—complete with ISBN and everything! She derived the title from a line of one of my poems and, in doing so, reminded me of my own brilliance. Good friends see us. Best friends, help us see ourselves.

This book made me fall in love with short stories. Bolu Babalola brings myths to life in this collection that packs emotional weight and lovestruck levity into remarkably few words. She accomplishes in mere pages what often takes whole books and each vignette leaves you somehow satisfied and wanting more.

What Kind of Woman is hard to describe. It is the look your friend makes from across the room that says everything you’ve been thinking. It is the hand that squeezes yours as you cry and the silence that never asks you to explain yourself. By digging into the specificity of her own experience, Baer illuminates how universally fraught it is to own the word Woman.

This podcast singlehandedly got me through the pandemic. Jamie Morton takes his pals, Alice and James, along for a wild ride through the world of Belinda Blinked, the series of amateur erotica penned by his own his father. It’s so bad it’s good. The plot lines and character descriptions make you question if the author could be anyone’s father given the absence of basic anatomical knowledge. I’ve laughed to the point of collapsing on the floor. This podcast gives ROFL meaning again.