AAPI Author Spotlight

Written By Melanie Carroll

Head of Adult Services

My Review:

I listened to the audiobook of Crying in H Mart, which is narrated by the author, and was incredibly well done. This is a very difficult read, as it centers on the illness and death of the Zauner’s mother and the grief that follows. She paints such a vivid and detailed picture of her life that it can be emotionally overwhelming, you feel almost uncomfortably close to her experience. Michelle does not sugarcoat her story, which deepened the sense of connection I felt to her throughout the memoir. I especially appreciated how she explored her relationship with her mother and her Korean identity through food and family. The way she uses food to express love, support, and connection during such a painful time was both informative and deeply moving, highlighting how it helped her feel close to her mother.

Readers should be aware that grief is the central theme, making this a heavy and emotional read. It also took me some time to become fully invested. The beginning felt a bit slow but once I reached about 30% in, I found it impossible to stop listening.

My Review:

The Farm was highly engaging, fast-paced, and the concept of the novel immediately sucked me in. The chapters shift between the four main characters, which deepened my understanding of both the novel’s world and each character’s motivations. This structure also made it hard to put the book down; I kept wanting to see what would happen from the next perspective.

Joanne Ramos expertly blends dystopian tension with a quiet sense of mystery, keeping the story compelling and suspenseful almost all the way through. Unfortunately, the ending is where the novel lost some of its impact for me. What had felt like a 4- or 5-star read dropped to a 3-star by the final pages. The resolution came across as too “cookie cutter” and superficial. Given the novel’s thought-provoking premise, I was hoping for a more powerful thematic payoff or even a more provocative, surprising ending. Instead, the conclusion lacked the depth and impact I expected, which left me disappointed.

My Review:

The main standout of How to Commit a Postcolonial Murder is its structure. McConigley alternates between traditional storytelling, chapters titled “You,” and quiz-style sections that interrupt the narrative. In the “You” chapters, the author breaks the fourth wall, directly addressing the reader with a mix of dark humor and sharp commentary. Initially, I did not feel motivated to keep reading; however, as I continued reading and began to understand the author’s intention, I found the structure to be brilliant and a refreshing way to deliver the book’s message. What first felt disjointed eventually felt purposeful and carefully crafted.

Despite the unconventional format and shifting perspectives, the story itself remains relatively straightforward. It is simply revealed in different ways throughout the book. Georgie’s voice is strong throughout, and even though the book is short, her character feels fully developed and layered. The ending twist caught me off guard and added even more depth to think about in relation to the novel as a whole. Overall, I was impressed by how cohesive the story felt despite its unusual structure and constant shifts in form.

Content warning: this book deals with sexual assault and rape involving family members and minors, which may be triggering for some readers.

My Review:

Martyr! is a book I’ve picked up and put down multiple times throughout the years. Despite all the glowing “must-read” praise, I could never make it past the second or third chapter, until I finally tried the audiobook. That made all the difference. The narration perfectly captures Cyrus’s energy and voice, making the story far more immersive and engaging.

Cyrus is not an easy character to like at first, he comes across as selfish, whiny, and at times exhausting. But as the novel progresses, my perception shifted. By the end, I found myself deeply connected to him, understanding him in a way that mirrors how the people in his life come to love him. There is a major twist that is gut-wrenching, though not entirely unexpected. It doesn’t feel like it’s meant to shock as much as deepen the emotional impact of the story, which is what I think the author intended.

This is a heavy novel, dealing with loss, addiction, suicide, and an overarching sense of hopelessness. That weight is part of what made it difficult for me to stick with in the past, but I’m glad I didn’t let that stop me this time. Overall, Martyr! did prove to be the “must-read” novel everyone said it was and I am really happy I finally read it.

My Review:

I appreciated how Real Americans stood out from what I usually read. Its nonlinear structure gradually reveals whose perspective we are entering and how each storyline contributes to the overarching plot, themes, and messages of the novel. At times, the unconventional pacing felt disorienting; however, as the narrative unfolded, it became easier to follow, and I grew more invested in the multi-generational arc.

This structure is reflected in the novel’s three-part division, which follows Lily in 1999, Nick (Lily’s son) in 2001, and Mei (Lily’s mother) in 2030. While each character is fully realized and has a distinctive voice, I initially struggled to keep track of the large cast and their interconnections. Ultimately, I admired the shifting perspectives and the elegance of the writing, which brought depth and clarity to the novel and kept me engaged until the very end.

My Review:

Roses, in the Mouth of a Lion is a strong character-driven story that was enjoyable in audio format. The narration brings Razia to life, and her development throughout the novel feels thoughtful and well-crafted. While I found the writing engaging and easy to follow, the slow pace and minimal plot made parts of the book drag, and I did lose interest at times.

One aspect I appreciated was the setting. Historical fiction in the 1980s isn’t something I read often, and it was a fun element to the story. That said, because Razia is a tween for most of the novel, it reads more like a Young Adult book than adult fiction. Overall, it’s a reflective, character-focused read that will appeal most to readers who enjoy slower, introspective stories rather than plot-focused or fast paced books.

My Review:

The Swimmers was a good read but it felt slightly disjointed and left me wanting more. The first part of the book introduces the reader to the pool, the swimmers, and what swimming represents and means to them. In this section, we are introduced to Alice, a regular swimmer who suffers from dementia. Swimming gives her purpose and peace, and it is something she has never forgotten how to do. However, when a crack appears in the pool and gradually worsens, the pool is shut down, causing Alice’s condition to significantly deteriorate.

We then get Alice’s story, as well as her daughter’s perspective on her mother’s life and the nature and state of their relationship. I found myself wanting either a book about all the swimmers, their distinct personalities and connections with each other, or a book focused solely on Alice and her daughter. Despite my slight disappointment with the plot and structure, Otsuka’s writing is lyrical and flowing. I didn’t want to put the book down, and I would still recommend it to readers looking for a beautifully written, thought-provoking novel.

May TBR List: