Had they known at these moments to be quietly joyful? Most likely not. People mostly did not know enough when they were living life that they were living it.
― Elizabeth Strout, Olive Kitteridge
Within me is an essay about the ritual of giving away my plants each time I move countries, and yet another about what it feels like to be the only one in the friend group who’s never been in therapy. But I’ll leave them to marinate a little longer.
The other day, a friend asked how I was feeling about finally leaving Germany — finally, because leaving is all I’d talked about since moving here. My former manager told me a while ago that he felt I’d never given this place a chance. He’s probably right, but it’s much too recent to regret that now.
My friend’s question stumped me for a second. No one had asked me that, probably because of everything I’ve just mentioned. I’ll admit I hadn’t done much internal probing either, not being one to snoop around my mind for emotions or upsets hidden within its crevices. I trusted they’d make themselves known when they needed to. They usually had.
Now that I’m writing this, though, I realize there’s a bit of mourning in order. I’ll miss this place, and the space it gave me. I’ll miss the time it afforded me to simply think.






It’s not often we get to stand within a moment fully conscious that everything is about to change. Usually, these things just sneak up on you. In two short weeks, I’ll never live alone again (or at least with such little baggage), and life will resume in a way I’d been hoping it would for a while now.
The truth is, living in Germany felt like having a room of one’s own — except that room was my whole life. I hope this makes sense. I fear I often come off quite melancholy when I write about my time here. I made friends, I traveled, I made more money than I ever had before, I slept soundly. What I’m trying to describe, I think, is the feeling of living life alongside people you love enough, but not the most, and the strange freedom that can give you.
There are people who draw inspiration from the world around them — the denser that world, the better. The more surface area they have to pull from. And then there are people like me, whose sense of self and creativity is so internal, so self-contained, that very little external stimulus is needed to do what we do best. This is what surprises people most about me (hurts them too, sometimes) — how little of them I seem to need, and how much of myself. I’m not speaking of selfishness or generosity here by the way, merely of time. And energy, I suppose.
Looking back on my life, the periods when I’ve been afforded large swathes of time have always brought forth the most magic. Somehow, being surrounded has thus far had an inverse relationship with my creativity. The question, really, is how to build a life that’s truly full in all the ways I want it to be, giving up as little as possible in either direction.
BOOKS I READ IN MAY
Olive Kitteridge by Elizabeth Strout
When I read My Name is Lucy Barton last year, I knew Elizabeth Strout was one of those authors I was going to spend a lifetime reading. Perhaps the best way to explain why I love her work so much is to say that one of my favorite TV shows is Hart of Dixie, and that NYC holds little to no appeal for me. I’m enamored by quiet loves and their deafening catastrophes. I want to read about fractures and heartbreaks so quiet they feel like secrets mourned just for me. You know what I mean? Well, that’s what Olive Kitteridge felt like. The novel — a collection of interconnected stories, really — follows Olive, a retired schoolteacher in a small coastal town in Maine, as she grows older and struggles to make sense of the changes in her life. Through these stories, we see Olive as a mother, wife, neighbor, and friend, and get a glimpse into the small joys and tragedies of the people and families that make up her community. Truly such a beautiful book.
Hamnet by Maggie O'Farrell
And then I read Hamnet, which I knew I’d love but was afraid I wouldn’t, so I put it off for nearly two years. Safe to say this book was so excellent, I’m still recovering. Set in 16th-century England, Hamnet reimagines the life of William Shakespeare’s family, centering on his wife Agnes and the death of their only son. As a plague sweeps through Stratford-upon-Avon, the novel traces Agnes’s fierce, almost otherworldly love for her children and the quiet devastations of grief that follow. Part of why I put off this book for so long is that while I love historical fiction, I’m not a huge fan of retellings, and the whole Shakespeare thing threw me off. So if you have similar hang-ups, let me assure you — it’s such a non-issue. This was really a story about Agnes, who was “not like other girls,” but I loved her all the same.
Now I’m on the hunt for similar historical fiction novels and would love your suggestions — Tudor-era fiction, specifically. I’ve already read The Marriage Portrait, have The Pretender on my radar, and plan to start the Wolf Hall series next year.
Carrie Soto Is Back by Taylor Jenkins Reid
Now, I know some people will have strong feelings about this, but I’m pretty sure Carrie Soto Is Back is my favorite TJR book so far. And yes, I’ve read them all. I really enjoyed The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo (although I read it almost three years ago), enjoyed Daisy Jones & The Six a bit less but well enough, and found Malibu Rising corny. That’s the order I read them in too, so things had been going downhill. By the time I read Carrie Soto Is Back, which follows the titular character as she makes a comeback to tennis after years of retirement in an attempt to reclaim her record, my expectations were low. But this really hit the spot. I loved all the characters, appreciated the way the story was structure, and I guess I just love tennis culture. I had actually put all my TJR books in my give away pile, but they’re back in the shelves now. Let me know what your fave TJR books is and why.
Fish Tales by Nettie Jones
So, this is where things started to go downhill. I’ve thought a lot about how to talk about this book, which Pandora and I were supposed to read for this month’s book chat but decided against at the last minute. Fish Tales was first published in 1984 by Random House, after being acquired and edited by Toni Morrison. Set against the backdrop of 1970s New York and Detroit, it follows Lewis Jones, a Black woman navigating a world of hedonism, desire, and self-discovery. This book is marketed as a very “liberated Black woman in the ’70s living it up” story. I thought I was in for a romp—a thoughtful, literary romp. My experience of Fish Tales was 200 pages of really dark stuff that just did not let up. In many ways, it’s very Morrisonesque in style and theme, but without any of the heart. Now I’m really curious about how publishers decide to market books and the narratives they lead with…
The Last Juror by John Grisham
Apparently John Grisham sits squarely in the dad airport fiction category. I don’t care—I love the guy. I’ve read about four Grisham books and have really enjoyed them all except this one. In 1970s Mississippi, Willie Traynor, a 23-year-old college dropout, unexpectedly finds himself the owner of the local newspaper, The Ford County Times. When a young mother is brutally murdered by a member of the infamous Padgitt family. Though the killer is sentenced to life, he ominously vows revenge — and years later, when he's released on parole, the town’s old fears resurface as jurors begin to die, one by one. Although it sounds like a straight forward airport thriller (and I did indeed read it on the plane), the execution was so convoluted to the point of being unenjoyable. I’m pretty sure I didn’t even finish…
Gunk by Saba Sams
and I read and discussed this for May’s 2 Girls 1 Book so go read that that conversation. Here’s a summary: Jules has spent the past five years tending bar at Gunk, the grimy Brighton nightclub owned by her ex-husband Leon. Everything shifts when nineteen-year-old Nim is hired — enigmatic, sharp, and quietly magnetic — and a tense, tender friendship blooms between the two women. When Nim falls pregnant and later disappears, leaving Jules alone with a newborn and no answers, Jules is forced to reckon with what it means to be needed, to choose someone, and to finally decide the shape of her own future.Throne of Glass by Sarah J. Maas
Lastly, I listened to the first four books in this series—all in about 10 days. I’ve decided to reserve the audio format for my fantasy and nonfiction reads, and it’s working well so far. I don’t see this TOG talked about as much as ACOTAR or even Crescent City, but it’s definitely my favorite. Less smutty than the other two, but with fun romantic storylines, better world-building, and, in my opinion, a far superior protagonist. I’ve realized that with romantasy, I need a strong female character—no clueless damsels forever getting into trouble (which is why I could never do Vampire Diaries). Planning to finish up the rest of the series this month! Will report back, heard it gets better.
Tracker: 57 Read (excl. DNFs), 6 Listened
NEW ON MY SHELF


Books I was kindly gifted by publishers and are already out…
Amphibian by Tyler Wetherall; Show Don't Tell by Curtis Sittenfeld; The Homemade God by Rachel Joyce; Sleeping Children by Anthony Passeron; The Fate of Mary Rose by Caroline Blackwood
… and books I bought!
Olive, Again by Elizabeth Strout; Small Boat by Vincent Delecroix; Mouchette by Georges Bernanos; Anything Is Possible by Elizabeth Strout; The Road to the City by Natalia Ginzburg; The City and the House by Natalia Ginzburg; The Member of the Wedding by Carson McCullers; The Lovers by Paolo Cognetti; Three Summers by Margarita Liberaki; Mouthing by Orla Mackey; The House of the Spirits by Isabel Allende; More Than I Love My Life by David Grossman
ON YOUR RADAR: JUNE NEW RELEASES
gifted by publishers; curated by yours truly. if your literary taste aligns with mine, check these out.
Among Friends by Hal Ebbott | PICADOR | 05/24
Two families, bound by decades of friendship and tradition, gather for a birthday weekend in the countryside. The wives and husbands have been friends for over thirty years and their teenage daughters have grown up together. But beneath the rituals and wine-soaked dinners, old envies and quiet resentments simmer, culminating in a single, irreversible act.
Thirst Trap by Grainne O'Hare | PICADOR | 05/12
In a messy Belfast house share, Maggie, Harley and Róise are limping through the tail-end of their twenties, still haunted by the sudden loss of the fourth in their group. The hangovers hit harder, the fights cut deeper, and Lydia’s untouched room is a constant reminder of everything they can’t quite say out loud. It’s a story about grief, growing pains, and the quiet unraveling of the friendships that once felt untouchable.
Ordinary Love by Marie Rutkoski | VIRAGO | 05/10
When Emily sees Gen across a crowded party, she’s thrown back to the reckless, all-consuming love they shared as teenagers. Twenty years later, Gen is living her Olympic dream, while Emily is stuck in a controlling marriage she barely recognizes herself in. As their lives begin to unravel, an undeniable pull drags them back to each other, forcing them to confront heartbreak, missed chances, and the question of whether you can ever truly go back.
The Stepdaughter by Caroline Blackwood | VIRAGO | 05/25
In a tense Upper West Side apartment, J is stuck parenting her own young daughter and her husband’s bitter teenage stepchild while he runs off to Paris with his mistress. Isolated and quietly seething, she starts crafting imaginary letters and quietly plotting small, unkind acts toward thirteen-year-old Renata.
The Break-In by Katherine Faulkner | RAVEN BOOKS | 05/19
When a violent stranger breaks into her London home, Alice kills him to protect her child — an act swiftly labeled self-defense. But as unsettling messages surface and the people closest to her start acting strangely, she realizes the story doesn’t end there. A tense thriller about paranoia, buried secrets, and how danger often comes from the places you least expect.
The Hounding by Xenobe Purvis | HUTCHINSON HEINEMANN | 05/26
The Mansfield sisters have always unsettled their neighbours — proud, wild, and grieving, with a reputation for trouble. During a stifling summer, as strange omens haunt their village, a rumour takes hold: the sisters have been seen turning into dogs. A feverish, gothic story about small-town hysteria, inherited suspicion, and what happens when a community decides a girl is dangerous.
Bring the House Down by Charlotte Runcie | THE BOROUGH PRESS | 05/05
At the Edinburgh Fringe, vicious theatre critic Alex Lyons tears into a performer’s show, then sleeps with her that same night. When Hayley finds out who he is — courtesy of his flatmate Sophie — she rewrites her entire show as a one-star review of Alex’s life, dragging up every cruel, petty, and unforgivable thing he’s ever done. As Hayley’s show becomes a viral hit and Alex’s world publicly crumbles, Sophie realizes too late that in a town built on performance, the audience can be just as dangerous as the stage.
I Gave You Eyes and You Looked Toward Darkness by Irene Solà | GRANTA | 05/17
In a remote farmhouse called Mas Clavell, an impossibly old woman lies on her deathbed. Family and caretakers drift in and out. Meanwhile, all the women who have lived and died in that house are waiting for her to join them. As day turns to night, four hundred years’ worth of stories unspool, and the house reverberates with raucous laughter, pungent feasts, and piercing cries of pleasure and pain.
That's How They Get You: An Unruly Anthology of Black American Humor by Damon Young | PANTHEON | 05/24
From the Thurber Prize-winning author of What Doesn’t Kill You Makes You Blacker comes a sharp, boundary-pushing anthology of Black humor that’s equal parts hilarious and hard-hitting. Featuring essays, stories, and rants from some of the best voices today, it dives deep into everything from grief and community to viral moral panics and cultural satire.
I love all the pictures, they're so tea. And it's just really cute how you summarised everything and organised it.
I love the metaphor of your plants growing roots in other people's homes and gardens. Thank you for filling my cup today Ochuko. Your words pierce my soul every single time. They never seem melancholy to me.....