Reading friends,
I am back from my Substack sabbatical!
While the time away was productive and needed, I truly missed writing and connecting in this space. It’s wonderful to be here again, especially with a new name and refined mindset under Letters and Literature.
Hopefully, you had a chance to read the note I sent out last week. In case you missed it and are interested in the impetus for the change, you can find it here.
Today I have lovely book recommendations for you, but first a quick update on the sabbatical goal: The deed is done—I finished my manuscript!
I took the photo above just before writing the last scene as a visual timestamp of reaching the finish line. I have to admit, typing The End was a glorious feeling.
Of course, I’m not really finished. There is another full manuscript edit and many other such steps, but I’m celebrating this first major milestone. I have updates about my communication with the two literary agents as well, but I will save those for another time.
We have new books to discuss!
In preparation for this letter, I went through my reading list for the second quarter of the year and carefully considered each of the books I read. I actually enjoyed all of the titles I picked up between April and June, though some more than others, of course.
But I have seen a shift in my reading life. It is one thing to enjoy a book, it’s another to notice craft. The skillful craftsmanship of certain writers is standing out more and more. I want to enjoy literature, and I want it to shape and inform me as a person, but I also long for artistry. All the more as I try to grow as a writer myself. However, acknowledging that writing is an art, I also understand that art does not speak to us equally.
As individuals uniquely created, opinions on literature that equates to enjoyment, soul formation, and artistry will differ, but as we continue together, I promise to recommend titles I believe meet those criteria.
With that in mind, I selected two titles for today, so the synopses and comments will be brief.
Still, I hope to give you enough of a preview to stir your literary longing, and to that end, I’m going to lead with my favorite.
Table for Two, Amor Towles
“I never studied music or played an instrument. I rarely sang along in church. So, I don’t know the proper terminology. But once Isserlis was playing, within a matter of seconds, you could tell you were in the presence of some form of perfection. For not only was the music uplifting, each individual phrase seemed to follow so naturally, so inevitably upon the last that a slumbering spirit deep within you, suddenly awakened, was saying: Of course, of course, of course…” Amor Towles, Table for Two
Those who have been with me for some time will remember my book recommendation for A Gentleman in Moscow, also written by Towles. I have now read every book by this author, and I will read every title he releases. In my opinion, he is a master.
This newest release is a collection of short stories, and to be honest, I was disappointed when I first learned of it. While I had to study and write short stories for my bachelor’s degree (and surely will be doing the same for my MFA), they aren’t my favorite genre of fiction.
But, oh friends. Table for Two may have changed my mind. I loved this book. In the above snippet, the narrator is referring to a performance of a classical musician at Carnegie Hall. The quote is taken from “The Bootlegger,” which is one of my two favorite stories from the collection. As I was perusing the book for enticing quotes, and came across it, I thought—how apropos. The narrator’s sentiments about the musician are exactly how I feel about Towles’ writing.
I think what I love about Amor Towles, besides his capacity to wake slumbering spirits, is his incredible insight into human nature. His characters are layered and complex: sinners and saints if you will. Plus, he writes them into situations that expose these qualities poetically. I suppose all writers aim toward complex characters, but Towles has a particular knack for achieving it.
I walk away from his stories feeling the curtain has been pulled back on the human condition, yet it’s a tender revealing. Not to jump on cultural idioms, but perhaps his writing makes me feel seen: utterly faulty and yet capable of such good. Also, intrinsically valuable.
Obviously, I’ve never met Towles, but I have a sense that he is a great lover of mankind—despite our many foibles.
While time doesn’t allow me to expound on each story, if you pick up the book, pay special attention to the “The Bootlegger” and “The Ballad of Timothy Touchett.” They were spectacular.
Peace Like a River, Leif Enger
“I saw it happening but could not stop it. Humility came to me too late. I’m a living proverb; learn from me.” Leif Enger, Peace Like a River
Speaking of masters…
Leif Enger is simply a superb novelist. From a writer’s perspective, reading his work is a masterclass in world building, literary devices, and character development. I happen to be reading his latest release, I Cheerfully Refuse, at the moment, and his craftsmanship has my head spinning.
Peace Like a River is the story of a Midwestern family’s reckoning after the oldest son, Davy, is convicted of murder (a crime in which readers are apt to side with the guilty). After Davy escapes from prison and disappears, the family pursues him in their recently inherited trailer. The narrative, told by brother Rueben, is centered on that endeavor.
Along the way, they are aided by serendipitous strangers, most notably Roxanna, who invites them into her home and becomes a maternal figure to Reuben and his sister Swede—not to mention a romantic interest to their father, Jeremiah.
The opening quote encapsulates the way the story unfolds; each moment seems unavoidable. The humanity of the individual characters, their unique strengths and weaknesses, propels the story forward to what reads as an inevitable conclusion, and the narrative as a whole is a proverb from which to learn.
The force of family in this story moved me; the Land’s fierce commitment and belief in one another is worthy of reflection and emulation. Faith is also central to the story, and it is woven in with such artistry and ingenuity as to avoid the reductive or didactic.
Plus, Enger’s writing, as mentioned, sings. His voice and use of language is original. He is particularly adept with simile and metaphor—their presence so continuous that his novels almost read like poetry. Almost because the poetic qualities are so seamlessly written into the narrative as to never upend the forward movement of the story. That takes skill.
This title has been out for quite some time, so many readers may be familiar, but it’s a must recommendation for those new to it. It is also worthy of a second read.
That concludes today’s second quarter recommendations. I’d love to hear your thoughts if you find your way to one of them.
Also, if you have your own favorite reads from the year, send them my way. I’m always looking for excellent books—despite the growing piles around my house.
Happy reading friends,
Tiffany