I’ve been thinking about book reviews this week, somewhat because of this gig, but mostly because they rarely agree with each other. You can look up a title and find every possible opinion represented. It’s not that readers are unreliable. It’s that reading is personal, and everyone brings their own life, timing, and mood to the page.
My new friend Barb Kinny gave me a good reminder of that. She’d just finished The Correspondent, which she said is actually a fast read, though life kept interrupting her and stretching it out longer than she expected. She went into it unsure because the reviews were all over the place. Some readers called it hard to follow. Some said it wasn’t interesting. Others insisted it was the best book they’d read in years. Kinny ended up in the “loved it” category, which she told me is rare enough that she almost never gives out a five-star review.
What worked for her in Virginia Evans’ 2025 release was the structure. The whole story unfolds through letters and emails written or received by Sybil Van Antwerp, and Kinny found herself piecing things together without context, almost like working a puzzle. She said it felt refreshing, partly because it reminded her how long it’s been since she’s received a real “newsy letter” from anyone. Most of us are down to short texts and the occasional phone call, and the book made her miss the longer, slower kind of communication.
She also liked Sybil herself. A strong, independent woman who still stepped back in her law career to support someone else. A character carrying a personal tragedy that felt real to Kinny, enough that it softened Sybil’s sharper edges and made her more endearing. She noticed the cracks in her confidence, the curmudgeonly moments that covered a soft heart, and she appreciated that the book let those layers show.
Now she’s starting Kathryn Stockett’s 2026 release, The Calamity Club. At more than 600 pages, she warned me it might take her a while. She’s also excited to hear what everyone else is reading this summer. (HINT HINT North Shore Readers!)
What struck me is that Kinny didn’t just tell me she liked the book. She told me why. She told me what kind of reader she is, what she notices, what she values, and what she brings to a story. That’s the kind of review that actually helps.
Which makes me think the best reviewers might be the people who know us. The ones who understand what kind of story will land, what kind of character we’ll root for, what kind of structure will either delight us or make us want to reorganize the pantry instead. A stranger online can tell you a book was “hard to follow.” A friend can tell you, “You’ll like this. Trust me.”
Kinny reminded me that reviews aren’t about finding consensus. They’re about connection. One reader telling another, here’s what this book did to me, and here’s why I think it might matter to you too.
A longtime NSJournal subscriber who doesn’t live on the North Shore but reads our online paper faithfully wrote to tell me she had just finished I Hope This Finds You Well by Natalie Sue. It’s a contemporary workplace novel about a woman who accidentally gains access to her coworkers’ private emails and messages and suddenly sees the people around her in a very different light. Office politics, misunderstandings, and a slow‑building romance all wind together as she tries to decide what to do with what she knows.
The reader summed it up in a way that made me want to check it out myself, saying it was “a really well written book about the banality of corporate life and the difficulty we have imagining each other as complex and whole human beings with private lives and personal struggles. I sped through it and I’m usually a slow reader. Plus, there’s romance, so that’s nice.”
As for this reader, I started a North Shore recommendation from the last edition of this column: Crazy White Man by Richard Morenus. I’m already enjoying the outdoor wilderness memoir a little too much. I can’t wait to talk it over with Carol Bosman, who suggested it, and to tell you all about it when I wrap it up.
While I was waiting for the book to arrive from the International Falls Public Library, I picked up A Flicker in the Dark by Stacy Willingham. I’d grabbed it at a rummage sale, despite trying not to buy books. I already have so many books, a problem for many book lovers. (But there are worse problems to have.)
This who-the-heck-dun-it had me turning pages instead of doing chores. The story follows Chloe Davis, a psychologist whose father was convicted of murdering teenage girls when she was young. Now, twenty years later, similar crimes start happening again. I had a couple of guesses early on and had to know if I was right. I finished it in a couple of days. When I handed it to my mom, she handed it back in under twenty-four hours. As we talked through the twists, my dad chimed in, “Oh, guess I don’t have to read it.” Ope!
I also read Invisible by James Patterson, or more accurately, listened to the audiobook. Patterson is always an easy read for me with the short chapters and fast moving plots. This one follows Emmy Dockery, an FBI researcher convinced that a string of accidental deaths is actually connected murders. I thought it was one of his better plot lines, with a villain who is unsettling in a way Patterson sometimes misses. I wasn’t sure how much I liked Emmy as a character, which put a bit of a damper on things, but the pacing kept me hooked. I enjoyed it enough to pass it along to my dad, who is a Patterson fan for the same reasons as I am, so it was good enough to share. Maybe he’ll forgive me for ruining A Flicker In the Dark.
Which brings me back to reviews. We all read differently. We all notice different things. And that’s the fun of this column. If you’re reading something you love, hate, or can’t quite figure out, tell me about it. I want to hear what you’re picking up and why it’s sticking with you. Write to sarahwritesnsj@yahoo.com and tell me all of the things you love (or hate) about books!
