Tale 🤩

A few years ago, I found myself standing in the middle of a completely empty living room, plotting. I had just moved from Seattle to New York City, and I had decluttered a lot of my inexpensive IKEA furniture before moving cities. I had also opted, somewhat extravagantly, to live in a one bedroom apartment for my first year in NYC. Without any roommates to pester me and presented with a blank slate of an apartment, my interior design fantasies were out of control.

While most of my outlandish interior design ideas never materialized—the building management squashed my plan of installing a motorized projector screen that would descend majestically from the ceiling—I did manage to fulfill a lifelong dream of mine: I built a reading nook.

I bought a sturdy-and-slim bookcase from IKEA, a couple of smart-bulb-equipped floor lamps, used & new copies of my favorite books, and, the pièce de résistance, a midcentury armchair and ottoman combo from West Elm. Finding the perfect armchair took hours of research, which mostly involved touring Manhattan’s cavernous furniture stores, sinking solemnly into upholstered chairs, and grimacing at the exorbitant price tags. But all the effort was worthwhile because I use my reading nook nightly. Reading a good book while ensconced in a comfy armchair is pure bliss.

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Tip 🛋️

I highly recommend building a reading nook of your own—if you can spare the space, money, and time. Having a dedicated and ergonomic reading spot is a great way to upgrade your reading habit.

Building a reading nook doesn’t need to be a complicated or expensive project. It only requires:

• A comfortable chair

• A source of light

• A collection of books

If you’re short on space, you can substitute the physical stack of books with a virtual stack of e-books (or audiobooks)!

If you have additional space or a larger budget, you can also consider the following extras:

• A plush pillow

• A throw blanket

• A side table for drinks

• A couple of handy bookmarks

• An ottoman for propping up your feet

• A bookcase for storing your book collection

Finally, if your nook is somewhat secluded, it can also help you ignore the siren song of digital distractions. My reading nook is situated in a corner, next to a window, pointedly facing away from the rest of my apartment. (Of course, I also don’t have a TV, which makes this tactic even more effective.)

I’ve read countless books curled up in my reading nook, and I hope you get a chance to do the same in your own nook someday!

I returned to New York City just in time to experience the snowstorms and frigid temperatures of this winter. I spent most of February sequestered in my tiny studio apartment: I brewed endless cups of loose-leaf tea, made bubbling bowls of ramen, and watched mesmerizing snowflakes fall outside my window while I snuggled under a cozy blanket.

I’m so ready for this interminable winter to be over, but I did read (and listen to) a lot of books from my backlog while trapped indoors. I’m excited to share my favorites with you! This month’s book recommendations feature protagonists who also find themselves stuck inside because of a blizzard.

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Tomes 📚

61 Hours

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I’ve read all the books in the Jack Reacher series, and these episodic thrillers seldom disappoint. Jack Reacher is a retired military police officer, an experienced brawler, and a vagabond. His itinerant lifestyle constantly gets him into dangerous situations. In 61 Hours, Reacher gets stuck in a small town in South Dakota because of a snowstorm. He soon finds himself guarding an elderly woman who is a key witness in an upcoming trial. Reacher barricades himself along with the witness in her house. He keeps vigil—even after the protective police detail leaves. He stays awake by patrolling the perimeter, drinking copious amounts of coffee, having philosophical conversations with the witness (who turns out to be a retired librarian), and striking up a phone flirtation with the new commanding officer of his former military unit. The novel is full of quiet and reflective moments with an undercurrent of nearly unbearable tension. When the action sequence finally unfolds it is unrelenting, gruesome, and explosive.

The Nowhere Man

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This is the second book in the phenomenal Orphan X series. Evan Smoak, a former black ops assassin, is captured and imprisoned in a luxurious room in a mansion nestled in the snowy mountains. Evan is initially unbothered by his predicament; he has survived far more inhospitable captivity before. But as Evan’s repeated escape attempts are thwarted and he realizes the depths of the depravity of his captor, he becomes increasingly desperate. The reader is left wondering how Evan will live up to his moniker of the Nowhere Man and disappear without a trace. The blockbuster ending is surprising, exhilarating, and emotionally devastating.

The Hunting Party

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I love a locked-room murder mystery, and The Hunting Party is a perfect example of the sub-genre. A group of nine friends—who met at Oxford University over a decade ago—embark on a winter trip to a remote lodge in the Scottish Highlands. The trip starts out festively with roaring fires, fancy libations, and fond anecdotes. But it soon becomes apparent that the group’s social dynamics are complicated: A bewildering tangle of old resentments, new slights, and wavering loyalties. When a blizzard traps the group in the lodge, things take a deadly turn. I found the final reveal to be astonishing, but astute readers might notice the subtle clues hidden throughout the novel.

I snuck down the spiral wooden staircase. The stairs creaked loudly, which made me wince. I was trying to covertly retrieve the final book in the Lockwood & Co. series. Unfortunately, the stuffy librarians had decided to shelf this literary masterpiece in the children’s library section.

Despite this snub, I was dying to know how the series ended so I was sneaking into the children’s library section during a mid-afternoon lull, and hoping no one would see me. As I stepped into the section, I was pleased to find it deserted. I scanned the short book shelves—which were organized alphabetically by the author’s name—and realized that I needed to go into the adjacent room. I walked into the next room, whistling tunelessly, and immediately stopped in my tracks.

Seated in a circle in the middle of the room were 15 college students. They looked up at me with curiosity. A bespectacled professor, who was standing in the center of the circle, cleared her throat irritably.

“Yes?” she asked.

“Uh, what’s going on?” I asked.

“This is the introductory children’s book illustration class,” the professor said. “Are you enrolled in this class? I thought there were just 15 students signed up.”

“Oh, no,” I said, “I’m just hear to collect a book.”

“From the children’s section?” the professor asked, incredulously. “Shouldn’t you be reading at the college level?”

One of the students snickered.

“It was an administrative error,” I said. “They shelved it in the wrong section.”

I turned to the book shelves lining the room. I felt the collective hostile gaze of the students and the professor as a prickle on the back of my neck. I quickly scanned the correct shelf, searching for The Empty Grave. I let out an audible sigh when I found it. I grabbed the book, and hurried out of the room, sweating slightly.

Tip 📕📗📘

Two of the most common hurdles to sustaining a reading habit are not knowing which book to read next and being unmotivated to start reading a new book.

My tip for this month—read a series—tackles both hurdles. If you pick a series by a prolific author, there’s always a next book to read (and even plodding authors usually manage to write at least a trilogy). And if the series is any good, by the time you’re a book or two in, you’ll be burning with curiosity about what happens next. The pages will practically turn themselves.

The familiar cast of characters and places also makes returning to a series an inviting prospect. You’re likely to be accustomed to the author’s prose by that point as well. All of which makes returning to a series much less daunting than starting a new book.

So, the next time you’re browsing for a book to read, consider starting a series—preferably one not from the children’s section of the library.

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I’m writing this dispatch from an eerily-empty airport lounge. It’s before dawn, and the distant city—which I can glimpse from the diamond-shaped lounge windows—is cloaked in darkness. I have several hours before my next flight, and I’m struggling mightily to stay awake. By the end of my travels, my circadian clock will almost certainly have gone haywire.

I always find myself traveling in the winter, and staying awake while timezone hopping is a perennial challenge. Consequently, I have an annual tradition to stockpile and read the most exciting thrillers every December. These action-packed books keep me awake and alert on long layovers and flights. They’re also immensely fun to read!

Tomes 📚

Here are my thriller recommendations for December 2025.

Orphan X

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This is one of my favorite thriller series. Evan Smoak is Orphan X, a former black ops assassin. Since leaving the top-secret Orphan program, Evan no longer conducts geopolitical missions—instead he offers his services pro bono to ordinary people who are in trouble.

The first book in the series introduces us to Evan, his personal commandments, and his minimalist penthouse apartment. The scenes in which Evan navigates the social intricacies of living in the fictional Castle Heights condominium in Los Angeles—while keeping his cover intact—are some of the funniest and most poignant. But the book also offers endless thrills and twists as Evan’s past catches up with him: Evan finds himself helping a gambling-debt victim while evading two Orphans sent to kill him. It’s a gripping read.

The Kidd Series

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I first stumbled across this series in college, and I was immediately drawn to the hacker protagonist Kidd, who lives in the Twin Cities. In addition to being a cybersecurity wizard, Kidd is a talented painter. He juggles his two passions in a pragmatic manner: The programming jobs—usually borderline legal—pay the bills and buy him adequate leisure time to spend painting. Kidd also has one final eccentricity: He dabbles in tarot. All the book titles in the series include tarot references. Some of the old book covers even include illustrations of tarot cards.

In the first book of the series, Kidd agrees to a highly illegal corporate sabotage job—one that is extremely lucrative. He enlists the help of his hacker acquaintance, his journalist friend, and his cat burglar girlfriend. But soon Kidd and his crew find themselves in more danger than they bargained for. It’s a fun page-turner—even if it’s a bit dated.

The series is a short one with only 4 books. Much to my chagrin, the Kidd series was abandoned by John Sanford in favor of his more commercially successful Prey series. However, Kidd does have some cameos in the author’s other series—and I always look forward to those tidbits about him.

The It Girl

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This is a standalone thriller and murder mystery that I blazed through in a few days. The story revolves around a group of six friends who met at Oxford University. Many years after their graduation, the friends are still haunted by the tragic death of their charismatic friend April. The story unfolds in two timelines—the friends’ college days and their present days—as Hannah, April’s best friend, tries to piece together the past based on new evidence. This harrowing story—full of red herrings, drama, and danger—will keep you on the edge of your seat until the very last page.

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At the beginning of this year, I faced a packing dilemma: I was planning a long backpacking trip in Portugal and Spain, and I wanted to travel light—but I also wanted to read several books on the trip.

On previous trips, I would pack a couple of paperback novels in my suitcase. However, I had recently become enamored of the one bag travel philosophy, which recommended traveling light with just a backpack. My fascination with this packing philosophy was partly for aesthetic reasons—I found the one-bag packing videos to be remarkably soothing, for some inexplicable reason—and partly for pragmatic reasons: I didn’t fancy lugging a heavy suitcase over cobblestoned streets, up narrow staircases, and into small taxis—all of which were hurdles in Portugal and Spain.

I solved my packing dilemma by buying a Kindle e-reader and loading half a dozen e-books onto it. The Kindle slipped easily into my overstuffed backpack, and its additional weight was negligible. The Kindle allowed me to read everywhere: On restaurant balconies overlooking scenic vistas, on sandy beaches under striped umbrellas, on high-speed trains whizzing by a blur of green landscape.

Tip 🔋

After my memorable backpacking trip, I’m now a big proponent of traveling with an e-reader.

E-readers have several advantages while traveling:

• Easy to Pack: E-readers are smaller and lighter than most physical books.

• Nearly Infinite Capacity: E-readers can fit thousands of books—they’re a portable library.

• Easy on the Eyes: E-readers have e-paper screens, which are easier on the eyes. E-paper screens also work wonderfully both outdoors and indoors. Furthermore, e-readers offer adjustable screen settings, including font size. (A pet peeve of mine is when physical books have tiny font.)

• Often Waterproof: E-readers are often waterproof so you can read while submerged in a pool or a bath. (Something I wouldn’t recommend with a physical book—soggy pages are not salvageable, as I learned the hard way.)

• Incredible Battery Life: E-readers can last for several weeks on a single charge; I don’t remember ever charging my Kindle more than once a month.

• E-Book Perks: E-books also offer many unique benefits: They’re usually cheaper, quicker to procure, and more eco-friendly than physical books.

E-readers have some disadvantages while traveling, however:

• Require Periodic Charging: Despite their phenomenal battery life, e-readers do require periodic charging, which can be a nuisance at times. Physical books, meanwhile, never show the dreaded low battery warning.

• Less Tactile Reading Experience: Many of my friends prefer the more tactile reading experience of a physical book. I do, too. It feels so satisfying to flip pages, to place a bookmark, or to close a book after finishing it. (As an aside, this is why I’m a fan of physical buttons for turning pages on e-readers.)

• No Physical Books as Mementos: Finally, physical books make excellent mementos from trips—particularly if purchased at a local bookstore on the trip itself. I’m a fan of overflowing bookshelves, and I sometimes regret that my book collection is mostly e-books.

If I’ve convinced you to travel with an e-reader on your next trip, here are a couple of recommendations:

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This is the Kindle I have. I opted for the Paperwhite Signature Edition because of several bells & whistles: No lock screen ads, an auto-adjusting front light, support for wireless charging, etc.. However, the less expensive versions of the Kindle are absolutely worth considering too.

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If you don’t buy e-books on Amazon, I’ve heard good things about the Kobo Clara BW e-reader. It’s less expensive than a Kindle, and it’s library integration is supposedly streamlined. (Borrowing e-books from the library is a great way to avoid spending a small fortune.)

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As I trudged up the steep hill in the cold drizzle, I regretted agreeing to enter the costume contest. It was a few days before Halloween, and the streets were dark and deserted. Even so, I felt conspicuous in my costume.

When I finally made it to the top of the hill, I paused to catch my breath. The venue was just up ahead, and I could see its bright neon lights from the distance. After a few moments, I set out reluctantly towards it.

My friend Mia was already waiting outside the venue. She was impatiently tapping her foot. I braced myself for a rebuke.

“Finally,” she said, glancing at her iPhone. “You’re 15 minutes late.”

“A wizard is never late nor is he early,” I said. “He arrives precisely when he means to.”

Mia ignored the quote.

“And what…” she said, squinting to look closely at me, “Are you wearing?”

“It’s my costume,” I said, indignantly. “I’m Gandalf the Gray.”

I was wearing a pointy gray hat, a silver wig of long flowing hair, and a fake gray beard that drooped. I had completed this ensemble—somewhat incongruously—with a gray hoodie, dark blue jeans, and black sneakers.

Mia snorted.

“You look like a tech bro Gandalf,” she said. “Couldn’t you have found a gray bathrobe and slippers?”

“I’m not going to wander around town clad in a bathrobe,” I said, with all the dignity I could muster. “This outfit is uncomfortable enough as is.”

“You’ve got to commit fully,” Mia chided. “Look at my Alice in Wonderland costume.”

I took a closer look at Mia’s costume. She was wearing a pastel blue dress with a white apron and white stockings with black shoes. Her long blond hair was held in place with a black headband. She looked like she had leapt out of the pages of a storybook.

“Let’s just go inside,” I grumbled. “I’m getting soaked standing here.”

We went inside.

The venue was a Japanese restaurant and bar. Large paper lanterns with inked characters hung on the ceiling, and they cast a red glow everywhere. The walls had murals depicting scenes from Japanese movies and TV shows, and there was even a large Godzilla head mounted behind the bar. The atmosphere was rowdy with loud music and shouted conversations.

We sat down at the long wooden bar and ordered a couple of highballs, nori fries, and chicken karaage.

“How’s work been?” I asked.

“Stressful—like always,” Mia said.

Mia worked at an understaffed non-profit arts organization. I made sympathetic sounds as Mia recounted her difficult work week.

“And you know what’s the worst part?” Mia asked, finishing her tale of woe.

She continued before I had chance to answer.

“They gave the ‘employee of the month’ award to Robert—I did so much more overtime than him!” she said.

“Didn’t you win that award a couple of months ago?” I asked.

“I did,” Mia said. “But there’s no rule against winning it multiple times. It would just be nice to be appreciated.”

Mia huffed. Then, she stood up.

“I’m going to scout out our competition,” she said, and walked away.

While Mia was still prowling around the room, our drinks and snacks arrived. I realized my fake beard—which drooped inconveniently over my lips—was interfering with my ability to eat or drink. I tried to take off the fake beard, but it was looped over my ears where it had gotten tangled with my wig. So I took off my hat, my wig, and my fake beard.

Feeling greatly unencumbered, I tried one of the nori fries: It was perfectly crisp and seasoned.

Mia returned and rolled her eyes at my discarded costume.

“The competition is weak,” Mia reported. “Most of the costumes are low effort—like yours.”

I was too busy stuffing my face to defend myself. We ate and drank in companionable silence for a while.

“Are you two here for the costume contest?”

We turned around to find ourselves face-to-face with the owner of the restaurant—who was something of a celebrity, having competed in various cooking TV shows. He was in his 30s with styled spiky hair, a trimmed beard, and a single earring. He wore his chef’s uniform, which was spotless.

“Yes, we are,” Mia said, hurriedly brushing the crumbs off her costume. “I’m Alice in Wonderland.”

She started to tell the chef about how she’d assembled her outfit by shopping at various thrift stores. He nodded along, looking suitably impressed.

Meanwhile, I rushed to put on my wig, my fake beard, and my hat. I cursed inwardly at the terrible timing.

“And what are you supposed to be?” he asked, glancing in my direction.

“Gandalf the Gray,” I announced, my beard still slightly askew.

“Didn’t he have like a big wooden staff?” the chef asked. “Where’s your staff?”

“My staff is broken,” I said.

The chef made a disapproving sound, clearly missing the reference.

Once he’d moved on to the next costumed group, Mia reproached me some more for my lack of attention to detail. She would’ve likely spoken at length, but the chef returned after a few minutes.

“Congratulations,” he said to Mia. “You won first place.”

Mia looked dazed. He lifted Mia’s arm in the air—like she had just won a boxing match—and repeated the announcement to the room at large. There was a round of polite applause and a couple of drunken cheers.

He handed Mia—who was shaking off the daze—a large envelope.

“Here’s a gift card,” he said. “Come back anytime to redeem it.”

Mia’s grin was dazzling—brighter than the restaurant’s neon signs. I realized with a sinking feeling that this triumph had gone straight to her head. I would be hearing about it for weeks; it would go down in the annals of our history.

The chef then turned to me and patted my shoulder.

“Better luck next year, Gandalf,” he said. “Don’t forget the staff.”

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Tomes 📚

Lockwood & Co. ⚔

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This book series revolves around a small, independent ghost hunting agency— Lockwood & Co.—in London. In this fictional world, London (along with the rest of the U.K.) is battling a deadly supernatural infestation referred to simply as “The Problem”. While ghosts are now commonplace, only children and teenagers are able to sense their presence and combat them. London has many ghost hunting agencies—which are run by adult supervisors and teenage operatives—but Lockwood & Co. is the only agency run entirely by teenagers.

Anthony Lockwood is the suave and swashbuckling leader of the team. He’s gifted with psychic sight and skilled with the rapier. George Cubbins is the bespectacled and plump researcher of the team. He loves spending time in the archives and conducting experiments. Lucy Carlyle is the newest member of the team (and the narrator of the series). Her psychic listening ability is second to none, and she also possesses the ability of psychic touch. Anthony, George, and Lucy work and live together at 35 Portland Row—the cozy Lockwood family home.

The first book in the series—The Screaming Staircase—chronicles Lockwood & Co.’s big break: The haunting of Combe Carey Hall. The agency is on the brink of bankruptcy after a disastrous case, but their press coverage lands them an unexpected and powerful client. John Fairfax, the Chairman of Fairfax Iron, hires the small agency to rid his country mansion of a bevy of ghosts. Lockwood & Co. agree to spend a night in the infested mansion—what follows is a bloodcurdling and gripping adventure.

The rest of the series continually raises the stakes. Lockwood & Co. slowly and steadily rise to prominence by tackling bigger and more dangerous hauntings. The team members improve their skills, and they hire additional team members—while still remaining small and independent. The series introduces a compelling cast of secondary characters: From the perpetually disgruntled Inspector Montagu Barnes of the Scotland Yard to the sophisticated and regal Penelope Fittes, the head of the prestigious Fittes Agency, to the disreputable-but-helpful Flo Bones, a relic scavenger.

Along the way, Lockwood & Co. discover a sinister conspiracy that completely upends their understanding of The Problem. The series conclusion is explosive and immensely satisfying. And though this series is marketed to middle schoolers, it touches on serious themes of grief and loss, friendship and loyalty, bravery and sacrifice.

While Jonathan Stroud, the author of this series, is incredibly commercially successful—his Bartimaeus series sold millions of copies worldwide—the Lockwood & Co. series has always seemed under appreciated to me. I’ve been a fan of the series for years, and I felt enormously vindicated when Netflix launched a TV show based on the series in 2023. Unfortunately, the show was abandoned after the first season, but the 8 episodes—based on the first two books—are definitely worth a watch.

The Dresden Files 🕵🏻‍♂️

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This bestselling book series follows the adventures of Harry Dresden, a wizard and private investigator living in Chicago. In the Dresden Files, various supernatural factions—wizards, vampires, werewolves, dragons, fairies, spirits (to name a few)—exist together in an uneasy truce with each other and remain hidden right under the noses of oblivious humans.

In Storm Front, the first book of the series, Harry is hired by Lieutenant Karrin Murphy of the Chicago Police Department to consult on a gruesome double murder. The forensics team is baffled by the seemingly anatomically impossible killings, but Harry recognizes the telltale signs of dark magic. Harry’s investigation leads him to the seedy parts of Chicago, and he soon finds himself entangled with mob bosses, nosy journalists, vicious vampires, and dark mages. Meanwhile, the wizard council—which disapproves of Harry and his detective business—dispatches a surly warden to scrutinize Harry’s every misstep and execute him if he dabbles in dark magic himself.

I was delighted to find a series that combined mystery and urban fantasy—two of my favorite genres. The Dresden Files literary universe is vast—there are 17 books so far with the 18th book due early next year (in addition to several short story collections)—and I lost myself in this series during the winter of 2024.

Harry’s character arc and growth is meticulously plotted, and the constellation of side characters are endlessly fascinating. The series is an absolute rollercoaster with moments of exhilaration and despair. However, I have a particular fondness for the early books in the series, where Harry is mostly focused on keeping his struggling private eye business afloat, with occasional help from his friends.

The Midnight Feast 🌖

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Lucy Foley writes atmospheric murder mysteries where the setting influences not only the mood but also the narrative arc of the story. The Midnight Feast is a standalone novel set in the newly opened luxury hotel, the Manor, located on the Dorset coastline. The Manor is bounded by a thick forest on one side and a precipitous cliff on the other side. The hotel has breathtaking ocean views, manicured lawns, and an infinity pool. The pampered guests stay in comfortable cabins, which are situated near the forest, along the cliff, and—for the particularly adventurous—atop the trees. Unfortunately, despite this idyllic setting, the opening weekend of the Manor goes horribly wrong. The novel is sinister and spooky, and the twists kept me turning the pages late into the night.

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The Beginning 🌥️

At the beginning of summer, my reading list randomly included several sports fiction books. When I was done reading these books, I was overcome by a longing for sporting glory. I was under no illusions that, in my late 20s, I would be going pro. However, I figured I could join (and dazzle) a recreational sports league.

When a friend mentioned he was signing up for a volleyball league starting in the fall, I readily agreed to join his team. But as summer neared an end, I was gripped by a sudden panic. I had neglected to mention an important detail to my friend: I didn’t know how to play volleyball.

After a hurried YouTube watching spree, I realized the game was more complicated than I had bargained for. My daydreams of sporting glory were abruptly replaced with nightmarish visions of me flubbing passes, serving straight into the net, and generally being a leaden weight dragging my team to the bottom of the league.

Fortunately, my summer reading had prepared me for this eventuality too. I knew what I needed to do: I had to sign up for a volleyball boot camp. I was traveling to the West Coast in August, and I added a stop in San Diego, where I enrolled in private lessons in beach volleyball.

The Middle ☀️

As I trudged towards the volleyball court, I surveyed the surroundings. Palm trees dotted the landscape. There were a few grassy patches where people were picnicking. And then there was the marina, with gently lapping waves and a cluster of moored boats.

I neared the volleyball court. The court was located in the sandy part of the park. The gray sand had a rough texture and was littered with seashell shards that prickled underfoot. I was trying to dislodge a seashell fragment from my sandals, when I noticed a figure waving to me.

My summer reading had left me with a clear picture of sports coaches. I was expecting a stern, taciturn, and grizzled coach who was too advanced in years to play the game himself, but who would re-live moments of athletic triumph vicariously through me.

When I saw Coach James, I tried my best to hide my disappointment. He was in his early 20s, with sandy hair, a deep tan, and chiseled features. He wore black shorts and a bright yellow T-shirt, a memento from a recent volleyball tournament in Mexico.

“So, tell me a bit about yourself and your goals,” he said, in a distinctive Australian accent, as we shook hands.

I filled him on my predicament: My complete lack of volleyball skills and the upcoming rec league.

“Wait, you signed up for 8 hours of volleyball lessons just to play in a casual league?” he said.

I nodded in the affirmative.

“Dude, no way,” he said. “What’s really going on? Is there someone you’re trying to impress?”

Of course, I had no ulterior motive other than to avoid mortal embarrassment, but I didn’t feel like admitting this. So instead I mumbled something about wanting to learn the fundamentals well.

Coach James clearly didn’t buy it, but he started me off with some warm-up drills. Then he taught me the basics of passing. Once I had learned how to form a platform, he started lobbing balls from across the net, while I scrambled all over the court, trying to pass them back.

At the end of the two hour lesson, I collapsed in the sand in a wheezing heap. My Apple Watch beeped excitedly with notifications about new accomplishments. I ignored them all. My forearms were sore, my back hurt, and I felt light headed.

“Great session,” Coach James said, looming over me. “We’ll pick up the pace a bit tomorrow though. Got to get you game ready.”

Outwardly, I gave him a thumbs up sign. Inwardly, I cursed the entire sports fiction genre.

The End 🌅

“Go, go, go,” Coach James shouted.

I ran across the court while keeping my eyes fixed on the arcing ball. I arrived at the edge of the court and halted. I formed my platform and hit the ball upward…straight into my face.

Coach James winced. “Tough luck,” he said. “Let’s reset.”

I fixed my askew spectacles, and returned to the starting position. I managed to hit the next ball better, but it still went out of bounds. I returned the ball after that one. Then, the next and the next.

“Nice work!” Coach James said, coming over to give me a high five. “Let’s switch to practicing serves.”

He demonstrated the proper form for a powerful serve. He tossed the ball and hit it. There was a sonic boom, and the ball rocketed to the other side of the court, leaving an impact crater in the sand.

“Now your turn,” he said, tossing a new ball to me.

I hit the ball with a light thwack sound and it floated straight into the net.

“Let’s get some more reps in,” Coach James said.

By the end of the lesson, with several suggestions from Coach James, I was able to hit the ball over the net—most of the time. It was also my final lesson: My overall volleyball skills had progressed from atrocious to amateurish.

“You’ve gotten a lot better,” he said, as we shook hands. Then he leaned in for a conspiratorial whisper, “So, are you going to tell me who you’re trying to impress?”

Feeling magnanimous, I conceded that there might be some single women in the volleyball league.

“I knew it!” he said, pumping the air. “Dude, you’re going to crush it!”

As I left the park, with the waving figure of Coach James receding slowly, I felt like one of the boats leaving the marina, setting off on a perilous adventure.

To be continued…

Tomes 📚

Carrie Soto is Back 🎾

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This is my favorite sports novel. Carrie Soto is a tennis legend, who has been retired for 5 years. However, when a younger opponent ties her record of 20 Grand Slam singles titles, Carrie returns to defend her record and her claim to greatness. She recruits her father to be her coach and begins a punishing training regime. Along the way, Carrie picks up plenty of supporters and detractors. The novel unfolds over the course of the 4 Grand Slams—with globe hopping, flashbacks, interludes, and transcripts of sports shows—and its twists and turns kept me engrossed throughout. The novel is ultimately about more than just tennis: Its themes include identity loss & expansion, playing for the love of the game vs. playing for accolades, and the uniquely rewarding relationship between a coach and a student.

Playing for Pizza 🏈

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This is a feel-good sports novel with a simple but satisfying redemption arc. Rick Dockery, a disgraced NFL player, finds himself exiled in Italy, playing for the Parma Panthers. While he’s initially embarrassed by this demotion, he bumbles his way into a charmed (and rather hedonistic) life in the small Italian town. Unfortunately for Rick, his biggest hater—the sports journalist Charley Cray—follows him to Italy. Despite this unwelcome scrutiny, Rick plays some of the best football of his career. The only question that remains is whether he will help the Panthers clinch the championship or will he crumble under pressure again?

The Final Four 🏀

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This is a short and fast paced sports novel that chronicles a semi-final game in a March Madness season. The novel incorporates flashbacks, quotes, sports commentary, and press clippings. There are four main characters, who are all players on the two teams in the semi-final. As the novel progresses, you learn more about their backstories and motivations. It’s a riveting and realistic read; an easy recommendation if you’re a basketball fan.

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