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A while ago, during a late night at work, my co-workers and I began chatting about the lottery. People started listing the expensive purchases and life changes they would make if they hit it big. A large portion would quit their jobs, but I wasn’t so sure. I said I wouldn’t change my lifestyle enough for the win to be noticeable. One of the other team members agreed- stating that he would not even switch his apartment. Instead, he would simply buy a second, secret, apartment where he could enjoy cool stuff without anyone hitting him up for money. You see, he and I both knew that winning the lottery is not always all it’s cracked up to be. The Jacobson siblings in Elyssa Friedland’s novel Jackpot Summer would have benefited significantly if they had a similar conversation.

While there are four Jacobson siblings – Matthew, Laura, Sophia, and Noah – only three of them go in on lottery tickets together. Matthew, the oldest and richest of them all pre-lotto, follows his wife Beth’s advice and opts out. Boy does he learn to regret it.

His siblings quickly discover that money does not solve all problems. Laura tries to use cash to fix her broken marriage and convince her kids to come home more, but nobody likes being controlled by their purse strings. Sophie uses the money to quit her day job and create art – only to find she’s so in her head over the win she can no longer paint. Noah, the baby, who was floating around aimlessly performing tech repair before the win now has a million people calling him for money and can’t seem to find anyone interested in him for something other than a check.

Pile onto that the fact that the siblings are dealing with the fallout of three of them becoming millionaires while the fourth must still work a job he hates, and you can see how the family dynamics are strained. Plus, the matriarch who used to keep the peace passed away a year ago and their father is all but absentee parenting as her retires to Boca and whiles away his days playing pickle ball.

I found myself finding some of the financials in the book extremely dubious. We are given a realistic picture of what would actually be left for each sibling after taxes (spoiler alert – way less than the advertised jackpot) and while it is still a nice chunk of change, I find it difficult to believe it would be enough for the lifestyles described. This is especially true in the case of Laura, who buys a multi million dollar home and then sets off and numerous luxury vacations all while spoiling her college aged daughters whose tuition’s she’s paying. Ironically it is Matthew’s wife Beth, the one who refused to buy a ticket, who points out that the Jacobson’s were rich before they ever won the lottery. They had a second home on the Jersey shore growing up. They participated in extracurricular activities and their parents through neighborhood parties and charity events. Beth’s speech pointing out the privilege in all of that was one of the best parts of the book and made me forgive the wonky real estate and travel spending that should have eaten through that lotto money within months.

Each Jacobson story is unique and they all have their own lessons to learn, but together the reader comes away feeling fulfilled. I found myself sucked in to the family saga, especially as it is told with humor. My favorite part related to a certain piece of jewelry and the revelations about their deceased mother that come at the end. Because really, we all mess up from time to time, but the point is to at least try. When the siblings realize this they are able to move forward together.

Note: BookishlyJewish received an e-arc of this book from the publisher.

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It feels oddly like a provocative act to review a novel about present day Israel, as to even breathe the name of that country is so fraught with opposed opinions these days. On Her Own, a novel by Lihi Lapid, translated from the original Hebrew, is about an Israel beneath and apart from the headlines, written
before October 7, a smaller picture in already small country. Told primarily through the eyes of its female characters, it’s a story of ordinary people living in a most non-ordinary country.

At the center is rebellious teenager Nina, who takes up with an older married man with an unsavory criminal reputation, much to the consternation of her single mother, Irina, an immigrant from Kiev, still Russia when she emigrated. It’s the Persephene-Demeter tale from Greek mythology, as Irina wistfully recalls how her daughter, now missing, has changed:

She remembers…the bond they had, and thinks about how much has changed this year since she shot up and started watching what she eats and her cheeks aren’t like two jelly doughnuts anymore, and the admiring way she always looked at Irina dropped away along with her baby fat.

Finding herself in a dangerous situation – we aren’t told the exact details – Nina escapes the dark world of her boyfriend, and lands, disoriented and disheveled, in the doorway of a Tel Aviv apartment building. There she meets Carmela, an elderly woman living alone. In the fog of dementia, Carmela mistakes Nina for the granddaughter she longs to see, the child of her son, Itamar, who left for America many years ago.

As Nina decides to go along with this confusion of identity, she develops a sweetly caring relationship for Carmela, who is clearly in dire need of companionship and basic care. Needing to buy supplies,  she meets Eitan, a young man who works at the nearby mini-mart. Eitan quickly catches on to Nina’s deception, but as he is increasingly romantically captivated by her, does not let on that he knows something is amiss.

Like a tossed rock making ever wider ripples in a pond, the story expands to include a wider circle of characters At times, the hopscotching from person to person becomes disorienting, keeping the Israeli names straight, and who is what in relation to whom. But it is an engaging human story; a mother missing a daughter who has gone astray, the grandmother who likely knows in some part of her brain that she is being deceived, but enjoys the attention of the stranger taking care of her, and Nina, the young woman who discovers a sense of self-worth at last.

At its heart, it’s a distillation of the anomie and disruption that is a common feature of contemporary life. Millions across the world are now refugees for reasons of conflict or economic hardship, and young digital nomads who move about simply because they can. The fallout from such global movement is a breakdown of family structure which had before provided stability and a support system.

It is through the eyes of Carmela’s son, Itamar, who deserted his home country for greater opportunity, that this modern dislocation is reflected upon:

Is something really wrong with Mom, or is it him, with his feelings of guilt for what he did? He, the deserter. The traitor. The coward. The sellout. How many times had he heard his parents say those words about their friends’ children who had left the country. Words used by Israelis of their generation who built the country and saw their children leaving it, trickling out. His generation gives it a different label. Relocation, they call it. Fulfilling themselves, realizing their potential somewhere in Silicon Valley, in the London Stock exchange…But at the end of all that globalness, he thinks, is an old woman who’s been left alone on the other side of the ocean.

Ironically – the country of Israel, as conceived by its idealistic founders, was conceived as a place of communal living structures, like the kibbutz, where social and cultural life is a shared experience. So all the more striking in the contrast.

In On her Own, we are shown a picture of life in Israel that is radically different from that vision. It is one where criminal activity and corruption have become common, and while military activity is never far from daily life – Carmela had another son who was killed in an army operation many years before – the novel takes place in a period of relative peace in Israel and of course, relative is the key word here, as it has always been when speaking about Israel and the Middle East, in general. 

On Her Own is a book of modest wisdom about mothers and daughters, which pulls the reader into its web of connections and provides an unusual window into Israeli society. This book, translated by Sondra Silverston, is the first by the author to be translated into English.

Reviewer bio: Lisa Seidenberg is a writer and filmmaker residing in coastal Connecticut. Her documentary films were shown in Berlin Film Festival, Doc.London, Sundance Festival and others. Recent writing was published in Atticus Review, Asymptote Journal, One Art: A Journal of Poetry, NewVerseNews. Her art book Dark Pools: Historic Swimming Pools of Berlin is distributed by PrintedMatter.

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My writing is strictly in the genre categories. As such, I have learned that if I do not blow up a space ship or have some kind of meet cute within the first few chapters no agent or editor is letting me even get my foot in the door. “Quiet” fiction is discouraged by trad genre pub, whether overtly or tacitly. Some of this is about sales, some is about perceived reader expectations, but it always shocks me when I pull something from the “literary” shelf and see how little these conventions mater in that arena.

In James McBride’s literary novel The Heaven & Earth Grocery Store there is a prologue in which a corpse is discovered in a low income neighborhood of Pottstown Pennsylvania populated by immigrants. The main interviewee is an old Jew and the narrative voice is from the local black community. If this was genre fiction I would expect the story to shift towards detective, mystery, or thriller plot beats. Some heavy action and possible introduction of a love interest and/or villain should follow. Instead, the book forgets all about the murder for a good 350 pages and shifts towards a study of character, community, and relationships.

The titular grocery store is run by Chona, a Jewish woman who is very progressive for the 1970’s. Chona requires a special shoe due to a lower limb issue, extends so much credit to her neighbors she seems to be running a charity instead of a grocery store, and cares nothing about the color of anyone’s skin. She is a joy to everyone that knows her and seems to get away with the most outrageous things – from correcting the cantor in Synagogue to calling out the town physician as a member of the KKK. She is the beating heart of the story and her inability to have a child upon whom to lavish some of her love and generosity is felt keenly by the reader.

Which is why nobody is surprised when Chona agrees to hide a young black boy named Dodo who lost his hearing due to an accident. Dodo is a bright and engaging boy, much loved by his Aunt and Uncle, who the state wants to institutionalize due to his lack of hearing. Given this book takes place in the 70’s, “special school” does not mean increased resources for the hearing impaired. It means shutting away anyone even mildly different, anyone that rich white society does not understand, in deplorable conditions. The things that go on behind those “school” walls made my stomach churn. Which is why Dodo’s relatives and Chona both work together to shield him from such a fate.

The story is indeed suspenseful, but it is not laid out so cleanly as I have done so here. There are myriad digressions and viewpoints delving back into the establishment of the community, the back history of even minor characters, and how they all mesh together. The actual murder thrown out like a baited line in the prologue is almost an afterthought, and I did not feel like the individual plot lines actually came together to a single resolution. If I submitted such a thing as a genre work I would likely receive a form rejection. However, the plot is not really the point here. It is the relationships, the interconnected-ness of everything, that matters. This isn’t a mystery or a thriller. It’s a study in community.

I was particularly struck by the relationship between Dodo and Monkey Pants, a young boy with cerebral palsy who is also sent to an institution by a society that does not understand that a body that functions differently does not say anything about the brain living in it. His physical needs are barely being met to our current standards, and his psychological ones are not even acknowledged to exist. The connection these boys form is moving and really stuck with me long after I finished reading. Indeed, many characters in the book feel designed to have the reader critically reflect on differences in ability and our viewpoints on this subject. Chona needs a special shoe. So does the individual in the book who is arguably the villain. They might have this similarity in their bodies, but they could not be more different in terms of their souls. Each viewpoint we meet is given a through and intriguing treatment even if we only meet them for a single chapter. Because we are all worthy of consideration and empathy.

“Read widely in your genre” is common advice given to writers to help them understand the market. It is good advice, but it is not complete. I find that making a foray out of my particular genre adds nuance and complexity to my work. I still could not submit something like this to a strictly sci fi audience, but my characters will be more thought out and developed for having read this kind of work. The Heaven & Earth Grocery Store may have a slower pace than I’m used to, but I needed the extra time to digest all the complex thematic work. It reinforced my resolve to diversify my reading across genres, themes, and authors. It makes me a better writer, but I hope also a better human.

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One of the things I love about middle grade books is that they allow kids to go new places, experience new things, and meet new people even if their family cannot afford travel or after school activities. In Ana On The Edge by A.J. Sass, we meet Ana, a young lady engaged in an activity I never dreamed of as a kid – competitive figure skating – and who is discovering for herself that she may not be a boy or a girl.

Interestingly enough, Ana has the same reason I do for not figure skating – her family doesn’t have the money to pay the exorbitant expenses associated with the sport. However, Ana learned to skate during a less expensive skate school, along with her wealthier best friend, and she showed such exceptional talent that her coaches and her single mother have found a way to make it work. She’s acutely conscious of the cost her training represents to her mother, and cannot afford all the extras her peers can, but she is never resentful and it does not hold her back. It was refreshing to read a book in which a kid does not have the financial resources of everyone else around them and is still joyful. As a kid who sometimes did feel resentful (though my situation was not nearly to the level of Ana’s) I would have really enjoyed reading that.

In Ana’s world – the world of figure skating – the delineation between boy and girl is stark. Her choreographer requires her to wear a skirt which she finds very uncomfortable, she skates as an intermediate “lady”, and her new program involves pretending to be a princess. All of this gives her a stark amount of discomfort for reasons she cannot explain. Plus, the choreographer and the costume cost thousands of dollars that Ana knows cannot be so easily replaced.

When Ana meets a boy at skate school, and overhears that he used to use girl pronouns, she is intrigued but also confused as to why this means so much to her. Then, when he mistakes her for a boy she doesn’t correct him. This still doesn’t make her feel “right,” and not only because she’s nervous about lying to a friend. Neither boy nor girl feels correct to Ana and it is only much later that she discovers what nonbinary means and that it might apply to her (she still uses she/her pronouns at the end of the book with most people, which is why I use them here).

There’s a large amount of panic right now that exposure to a queer child might lead other children to “turn queer.” Yet in Ana on the Edge, we can see that Ana’s dysphoria – her feelings of wrongness in a skirt or when performing her princess program – predate her exposure to any transgender individuals. Instead, meeting a trans child simply helps her find the words the express what she is feeling internally so that the adults in her life can help her sort through what it means. I think that is closer to actual real life experience.

At end of the book, Ana is still sorting things out – what to call her bat mitzvah, what division she wants to skate in, what pronouns she will use – and that too is reflective of life. Not everything comes easily for everyone, nor can it be expected to come all at once. As the author so poignantly states in the afterword, there’s no one right way to be nonbinary and Ana is still finding hers. Hopefully she gives some kids the words to express what is going on inside themselves, or a better frame of reference to understand their friends.

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In case my review was not enough, I will remind readers that I absolutely adored Dahlia Adler’s YA contemporary Cool For the Summer. It was the first review I wrote for BookishlyJewish and as such has a special place in my heart. However, I readily admit that it also tore me to shreds in a way that might not have been one hundred percent healthy for me at the time. This was not the books fault, it’s a romance with a happy ending and no trauma at all. I’m not sure why it had that effect. It just did, and it is not the first or last book to have that effect on me. Which is why I delayed about a year before picking up Going Bicoastal, Adler’s third YA romcom with Wednesday Books and the second with Jewish rep. We can call reading it now a Pride gift to myself.

The story (or stories!) follows Natalya who has been presented with a choice. Spend the summer in familiar NYC with her father or travel to LA and spend it with her estranged mother. Instead of watching Natalya make a choice – we watch her make both choices and then read two alternate love stories unfold on either coast. At first, I was wondering how Adler would explain showing both stories – was it a cosmic time loop or something? – but I quickly learned that she wouldn’t. She simply gives us one chapter in which Natalya makes a choice and then follows it with another chapter in which Natalya makes the opposite choice. We then alternate chapters in which Natalya falls in love with a boy and a girl respectively. At the end we are given a choose your own adventure style question and allowed to read a last chapter depending on which romance we are rooting for more. I actually liked them equally, so I read both.

Suffice it to say, Going Bicoastal, is extremely bisexual on the page and I would call it higher heat for a YA but around medium to light for adult. The major sex scenes fade to black after significant foreplay on the page.

The good news is that aside from a brief moment of anxiety when in the first chapter Natalya says Pride is one of the best thing about summer in NYC (mostly because I have never been, and likely will never be, able to go myself) I did not experience any of the soul crushing feelings I felt with Cool. Reading was still ego-dystonic for me simply because Natalya and I are very different people – she’s an extrovert who thinks limonana tastes like grass – but I enjoyed seeing how a person very different from myself moved through the world. In addition, as with Cool, I saw an adolescent experience that is extremely different from anything that is familiar to me. I suspect this is how many teens grow up now, but I have come to realize that the difference for me is not just because I was raised in a different community, but also because my brain works very differently from theirs. Which means that this time around the experience was actually more validating for me than not.

The Jewish rep is really excellent – with both non-Jewish love interests showing a great deal of respect for how Natalya observes Shabbat and some rules of Kashrut. In fact, their ability to accept her religion is part of what cements these relationships and there are many lovely Shabbat dinner dates. Plus, while Natalya identifies as a Conservative Jew, I am sure Jews of various identities can relate to her mental debate about whether or not to explain her observance to others. It really would be easier to just say she’s allergic to shellfish, but she goes ahead and explains anyway and is rewarded for it.

Which brings me to the last thing I’d like to mention – the acknowledgements. I was one hundred percent mortified to see right there in the last line a beautiful shout out to all the bloggers and book coverage specifically for Cool’s Sapphic Jewish rep and how this positive response influenced the writing of Going Bicoastal. I am but a tiny blog in a sea of much larger media outlets covering such books, but I am very proud of my coverage for Cool and extremely embarrassed that it took me a year to read Going Bicoastal when that thank you was sitting right there in the comments and the author has always been so supportive of BookishlyJewish. I should have shown up for this book sooner, but that acknowledgement helped me gain a little insight into what I was afraid of, maybe even why Cool ripped me up so much inside.

It is one thing to throw a book out in the world and get rejections from agents, editors, or readers. It is quite another to worry that your very own community will reject you and your writing. So yes, I completely understand why Adler felt the need to send a thank you to people who were simply doing our jobs. Cool For the Summer contained a storyline that I just was completely mentally unprepared for. Reviewer responses are never guaranteed, and I imagine this representation made the book even more terrifying to publish. It was a book of bravery and pushing boundaries. Going Bicoastal though, is a book of acceptance – not just once, but twice! Loving acceptance of ourselves is literally baked into the plot. There was never a right or wrong choice for Natalya to make. Simply two different choices that each turns out okay and shows that no matter what happens along the way, we all end up where we’re meant to be.

There is more Sapphic Jewish rep out there now than when I started this blog, but it’s not nearly as much as there could be, especially from larger publishing houses. While I’ve been successful with short fiction, Trad publishing has pretty much told me “no” repeatedly for my long form work. I’m extremely happy that there are books like Adler’s to pave the way. It gives me the patience and the strength to keep going and try again. Which means I really should not have waited the year to read it. I’ll try and get to the next one faster.

Note: Bookishlyjewish received a free copy of the book from the author

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The sophomore slump is a real thing for writers. Second books are always harder, because there is an expectation that a writer not only knows what they are doing but that they will surpass their first piece. In reality, each new work serves to teach writers how very little we know about anything. Plus, if a writer is truly pushing themselves, they will be trying something new each time, not rehashing the same old stuff. Figuring all that out, allowing oneself the grace to breathe and explore, is often the actual struggle of submitting a second book for publication. It’s quite different than all the manuscripts that came before, that were not published. I approached Sydney Taylor Honor recipient Deke Moulton’s second book, Benji Zeb is a Ravenous Werewolf, with this in mind. However, I actually enjoyed the read even more than I did their prior book (Don’t Want To Be Your Monster). And found it extremely fitting that anxiety was a featured topic.

The premise that the tribe of Benjamin’s blessing in Birchat Yaakov (the blessings Jaacob gives to each of his sons in the bible) refers to Benjamin being an actual wolf rather than a metaphor for his prowess in battle, is certainly far fetched, but once we get past that suspension of disbelief the results are intriguing. Thirteen year old Benji Zeb has always known he is werewolf, because his family is composed of werewolves that disguise their shape shifting ability by running a wolf sanctuary. They are also unlike traditional werewolves in horror stories – Judaism holds that a werewolf keeps their human mind intact when they shift so these are not necessarily dangerous individuals, and they have control over when they shift rather than being beholden to phases of the moon. I actually found this to be hilarious and delightful. A bunch of werewolves running a werewolf sanctuary in a kibbutz like fashion? Adorable.

However, Benji’s idyllic family life is facing threats from both within and without. His bar mitzvah is approaching and his crushing anxiety is leaving him unable to focus on writing his speech. With everyone expecting him to be perfect, he can’t find the words to tell them about the turmoil in his mind. On top of that, his former best friend at school Caleb, has been acting horrible for months. Worse – Benji catches Caleb’s stepfather and his white supremacist pals hatching a plan to sabotage the sanctuary.

When Caleb shows up at the sanctuary -in wolf form! – Benji has to reconcile his conflicting feelings towards him. He’s still harboring a crush, and sometimes it seems like Caleb is encouraging it, but he also has a stepfather literally trying to destroy Caleb’s family. Nobody will listen to him because they keep telling him to focus on his bar mitzvah speech and Caleb is kind of freaked out at discovering he’s a werewolf (it’s a recessive trait). There were definitely moments when I just wanted to yell at everyone to shut up and listen to each other. I suppose feeling like nobody will listen to you is part of being a teen. Although Benji’s anxiety doesn’t help matters – he can barely get a few words out to his parents. Which means he and Caleb are stuck figuring out a plan together.

Where Benji Zeb really shines for me is the ending. Unlike Moulton’s first book, Benji Zeb, takes things a step further by allowing Benji to see the other side multiple times. He shows great maturity in imagining what things might be like for Claeb and his step father. Caleb is given a real and true voice and the step father is not a faceless evil, but rather someone who has made some bad choices after facing disappointment. Resolution is reached not by winning a battle, but rather through empathy, understanding and an offer to share. It was beautiful and nuanced in a way that younger readers could still understand.

I imagine after the success of Don’t Want to be your Monster, it was daunting to write a follow up. I love that it features anxiety, because that’s how I feel every time I send something out into the world never knowing how it will be received by people who liked my prior pieces, or if I’ll get any feedback at all. So I’d like to provide this bit of reassurance: as a second book, Benji Zeb is a Ravenous Werewolf shows a lot of growth and a willingness to explore new themes. I look forward to seeing where Moulton goes next – be it a new magical creature, or a new age group, or genre.

Note: BookishlyJewish received an ARC from the publisher after we asked for one.

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Holidays are a great time to bond with family over food. The day before the holiday though? Super stressful. I’m running around cooking and getting a million things done at once. I was therefore really excited to pick up Mind over Batter by Jack Hazan and bring a little more mindfulness into my baking. The book, which features mostly sweet, but also some savory, baking recipes is arranged around mental health topics. As a licensed therapist, the author talks the reader through how baking can be used to augment therapy.

As with anything meaningful, it gets real personal real fast. Hazan shares his own story of growing up with ADHD, struggling with school, and then also with being gay in a very traditional Syrian Jewish community. There is something reassuring in hearing how everything worked out in the end for him- even if some poor challah dough got kneaded to death along the way. In fact, as the author’s grandmother pointed out, the dough can take it. That’s just part of baking therapy.

The actual chapter openers weren’t really my style. The voice sounds like it would go over great in person or in audio, but feels kind of stilted when reading. However, the mindfulness tips and quick sessions included with each recipe are pure gold. They really transform the act of even rushed baking into something healing for all participants.

I decided to try out two recipes for the recent holiday – the famous Madonna approved challah, and the S’mores cookies. I’ve been on a challah kick recently, trying out many new recipes, and I will say this one gave the best results for the least complicated process. There was only a one hour prove and the bread was still light afterwards. As for the cookies – holy moly. They flew off the plate. Huge hit. Cannot recommend enough. I’m not a fan of rose water as much as Hazan (that’s OK, we come from very different geographic locals) but the recipes included modifications.

I still can’t help from rushing before Shabbat or holiday, but having this voice in my head reminding me to enjoy the moment is crucial. I turned off the mixer and slapped around the challah dough a little myself. And you know what? It did help! So cozy up and get ready to be both well fed and well cared for in the kitchen.

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I’ll never forget the day that I found out A. R. Vishny is funny. I was starting a short story critique group (still going strong!) and this wonderful writer that I admired mentioned she was interested in participating. Her story she was actually a bit of apocrypha for her novel in progress. It’s an exercise lots of writers perform to make sure their characters are well rounded. And it worked! Because the book was Night Owls and the short story made me laugh so hard the first thing I said when we opened the floor for critique was “OMG I had no idea you had a sense of humor.” Luckily she forgave me for my foot in mouth syndrome and still let me read an arc of the book.

In truth, I think she replied with something very gracious about trying to be funny but never knowing if it was working. Dear reader, it was working. It still is working. It works so hard it ought to receive overtime pay. Night Owls , a YA fantasy feature two Estries – a more obscure Jewish magical creature akin to female only vampires – named Clara and Molly who run a movie theater in the village. The theater, which is a renovated old Yiddish theater, is practically its own character and their ticket taker Boaz just so happens to see the dead. So basically everyone is keeping secrets about their magical sides from everyone else. This cozy little arrangement self implodes when Molly’s very human girlfriend disappears and Ahsomdei King of sheydim – you can think of sheydim like Jewish demons but with chicken feet – starts getting feisty.

Each character has a wonderfully detailed backstory which we learn as the novel progresses. There is a wealth of Jewish lore, including an appearance by the ring of Solomon (although it is never formally called such). Vishny has a light touch, specifically addressing the issue of blood libel surrounding Jewish vampires while also acknowledging that accepting the monstrous half of oneself is not necessarily a bad thing. Because what society calls monstrous is often just a woman trying to think for herself.

Normally I go for the sapphic plot lines, or heavily invest myself in either the magical creatures or sentient dwellings. In this case though, it was not the estries, or the theater, or the cool Yiddish stage trivia that pulled me in. It was Boaz and his freaking hilarious sense of humor. Is Kugel a pasta or cheesecake? The bit about the klezmer band (I won’t ruin it for you). His ineffable ability to say the most ridiculous yet truthful things. This guy slayed me again and again. I was so thrilled to have the chance to meet him again and discover the rest of his story.

Night Owls deals with heavy topics but it is never itself heavy. It was a joy to read, taking me only a few commutes, which is saying something since I am reading on a tiny Iphone screen with NYC public transportation shenanigans distracting me all around. Come from the movie trivia, stay for the chicken feet (I admit I am also a sucker for Ashmodei stories). There’s something for everyone here.

Note: BookishlyJewish received an arc of this book after we asked for one.

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There is nothing like some low stakes sapphic romance to get me out of a reading funk. And when I’m in need of that fix – I turn to one of my favorite indie authors, Shira Glassman. People have been reccing me her short story collection Knit One Girl Two since forever. Including a lovely article from fellow romance writers that ran as part of our last Tu B’Av feature. I should really learn to listen more, because when I finally accumulated enough digital media credits to go purchase it, I definitely got the warm fuzzies. 

The longest story, from which the collection takes its name, follows Clara as she prepares to start hand dying yarn for her next sock club. For those not in the knitting know, this means Clara dyes special yarns herself and sends subscribers enough to knit a variety of themed socks. This time around her colors are based on the art work of Danielle. To whom she just so happens to be attracted, and who volunteers to help out when more than usual orders roll in. You can guess where it goes from there. 

I did love that story, but my favorite was actually the story FEARLESS, in which a newly divorced and newly out of the closet mom takes her daughter to the All-State orchestra rehearsal and begins to have a flirtation with the butch orchestra director. It was nice to see a reminder that one is never too old to fall in love or to create art. The rediscovery of both a long abandoned musical talent and queer feelings that had long been put aside, was a real one two punch straight for the feels. And it was so gentle and reassuring at the same time. No high stakes end of the world break up to send my cortisol levels rising. Just straight up love, acceptance, and a line about kissing in one’s native language that read like music in and of itself. 

Often for trad publishing to acquire a book, even one labeled as cozy, it must torture the reader to the point of making them cry and throw the book across the room on a social media video post. Or have some ridiculous high concept hook involving the end of the world as we know it plus the death of the character of everyone they hold dear. Sometimes both. As a reader, it can get pretty exhausting. Sometimes, I don’t want to be tortured. I don’t want the world to end (or be in danger of ending even if it does get saved by the end). I just want a hug and a warm pair of socks. Knit One Girl Two provides both (although you’ll have to knit the socks yourself. Clara’s yarn is all sold out).

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A few months ago I wrote my first Holocaust adjacent piece. It was a short story, because I don’t think I can carry those particular feelings for the extended period that a novel would require, and deeply personal. It was also something that surprised me, because Holocaust narratives have never come easily to me. Not solely because I am primarily a writer of joy, but also because the fear of persecution was palpable for me during my childhood. I am grateful for the education I received, especially in a society where polls show that many gentile young people don’t even know what the Holocaust was, but I can’t recall a time in which I did not know that there were people who believed I was less than human simply for being born Jewish. Needless to say, this deeply messed me up. I am not afraid to admit that. The reality of the Holocaust is an emotionally scarring thing for a sensitive child to know in vivid detail. Which is why I appreciated the path taken by Neal Shusterman and Andrés Vera Martínez  in their YA graphic novel Courage to Dream. 

Courage to Dream features several short narratives about the Holocaust, and it doesn’t shy away from how truly awful it was, how a portion of humanity treated another portion of humanity like less than animals, but it also includes messages of hope and resistance. There is a fine line to walk between Holocaust education and trauma voyeurism. Veer too much to either side and you run the risk of sugar coating a tragedy or terrifying the living daylights out of children (and not in the good horror novel kind of way). Author and illustrator both manage to find what felt to me like a happy medium here, providing enough detail to get the message across. 

My favorite narrative was the last one, in which a young lady sees what her family would have looked like without so many branches cut off prematurely. There are entire families of cousins, holidays full of the chaos of cramming too many people into a space that just manages to fit them, a support system that she currently lacks. It is a visceral reminder of what was lost, a gut punch delivered with a tender loving embrace afterwards. The narrator of that story strives to create a better future and I hope the readers leave with that spirit too. 

There are also lighter moments – when you get to the story with the coat rod you’ll know what I mean – and Baba Yaga makes an appearance as a resistance fighter. Lesser known war stories are given the spotlight right along with the more widely known concentration camps. Public memory of even the more widely publicized aspects of the Holocaust has faded recently and Courage to Dream serves as a good reminder, especially in a time of rising antisemitism. 

It also serves as a means for young people to engage with this history and be inspired to take action in their own lives and communities. The topic is heavy but it provides hope for humanity which I think is important for young readers. But maybe also for this particular adult reader too. 

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