Rebecca Howard

Fall offers us many comforts--farm stand apples, homemade soups, and long walks in the woods with leaves crunching underfoot. Fall fiction generally offers no such reprieve, which is just the way that I like it. 

Some readers live for juicy summer reads that inevitably wind up with the scent of sunscreen and sand embedded between the pages. For fall book lovers, a coffee or tea ring is the mark of a great read. (Important PSA: these stains are merely metaphorical if you’re reading a library copy, of course!) 

Jacqueline Woodson dedicates her 2019 novel Red at the Bone to “the ancestors, a long line of you bending and twisting.” I’ve been thinking a lot more about my ancestors lately, leaning into the strength of those who came before me who endured wars, economic disasters, or other, even deadlier, global pandemics. I’ve also been watching my parents move into advanced age with all its associate heartache and indignities.

If the past few months have taught me anything, it’s that I really should have read more read more Science Fiction. Seriously, a few more dystopian novels would have prepared me a bit more for what is passing for normal today. Am I dreaming this or is there seriously a “bubble town” in Disney World where professional basketball players are living right now?  School re-openings sound more like preparing for space travel. Most of us are banned from traveling to the EU, and even the Canadians are giving us a pleasant “no thanks.” Things feel really surreal, uncertain, and scary. 

As a librarian, it’s been heartening to see so many people sharing reading lists in the aftermath of George Floyd’s murder. For those who identify strongly as readers, the act of reading is more than entertainment; it can be a path to understanding and sense-making.