Once again, odd-couple Earl (a bird) and his neighbor Worm (who’s the same size as Earl and thus definitely not his prey) pair up in a trio of stories that are just right for new readers. First, neatnik Worm helps clutter-bug Earl get rid of some items he no longer needs—and ends up acquiring many of those things for herself. The second tale sees the usually affable Earl despairing after a lucky penny he finds seems to bring him bad luck instead of good, until Worm makes everything better. In the final story, Earl goes along with Worm’s determined effort to stay up all night to watch the sunrise. Each entry displays thoughtful timing that ramps up the humor—for instance, a comical denouement to “The Lucky Penny” shows bad luck befalling Worm after she resolves Earl’s woes. Throughout, Pizzoli’s expertise in marrying words and cartoon-style pictures will support new readers’ decoding skills while enhancing the storytelling, such as when Earl’s stuff spills over the book’s gutter onto Worm’s otherwise-tidy side. Pizzoli’s line drawings are simple yet expressive; Worm’s grumpy looks are especially delightful to behold.

The author, a psychotherapist with 17 years of experience treating patients and a special expertise in somatically oriented trauma therapies, here delves into the ways in which psychedelic drugs can heal a stilted sexuality and enhance pleasure. The book represents a culmination of Goldpaugh’s own 20-year healing journey (“nothing has ever been capable of helping me feel, express, move through, and ultimately reconnect to pleasure in the way psychedelic medicines have”), combining the raw vulnerability of a memoir with well-researched historical and scientific information while demonstrating a strong understanding of how the author’s experience with psychedelics fits into a broader narrative of Indigenous and Western uses. Goldpaugh skillfully locates personal histories—their own, and that of their patients—within a sacred ancient tradition, combining cutting-edge trauma research with individual case studies. The book offers novel and easy-to-understand insights into how substances like psilocybin, MDMA, and LSD can aid in sexual healing and relationship satisfaction. Goldpaugh illustrates the potential of these substances—which were long stigmatized and criminalized by the American government—to foster deeper connections, mend strained relationships, and promote a more pleasurable outlook on life. (“They all start as tools in the hands of therapists and psychiatrists with tremendous promise…But when people started using these very same substances as vehicles for personal spiritual growth, sexual enhancement, pleasure, and even political revolution…they were recast by the authorities as threats to the public good.”) The author recommends working with a professional therapist to ensure a safe and thoughtfully paced exploration of psychedelics. They also address systemic barriers to pleasure under capitalism, adding empathy and insight. Finally, Goldpaugh addresses the pleasurable aspect of using these substances, bravely rejecting Western scientists’ prioritization of measurable, productivity-maximizing results. The result is a book that feels personal and scientifically sound.

Three years after her husband’s death, Lauren Parker is definitely not looking for love—Spencer was the only man she’d ever truly loved, and no one else in her small town compares. She has her hands full with her teenage daughter, the book and craft store she runs with her mom, and the rest of her life in Cooper, Montana, where everyone knows everything about her. Her brother, though, is famous actor Gabe Parker, and he recently moved back to Cooper to escape Hollywood and start a theater. He brought two actor friends with him to help put on a show: Oliver Matthias, who’s their director, and Ben Walsh, a bisexual heartthrob known for his daring exploits. Lauren and Ben have intense chemistry right away, and she’s extremely interested in a fling—but nothing more. This is, after all, the small town where she was judged for her supposed promiscuity as a teenager, and where her ultraconservative former mother-in-law is watching her every move. Lauren tries and repeatedly fails to avoid Ben (and his motorcycle and all-black ensembles). Plus, their lives are very different—Ben is a rising star who may end up being the next James Bond and traveling the world, while Lauren is firmly rooted in Cooper and dealing with all the complexities of raising a newly teenage (and still very much mourning) daughter. Fans of Sussman’s Funny You Should Ask (2022) will be happy to get another look at Gabe Parker, his love interest, Chani Horowitz, and the town of Cooper. Sussman alternates between Lauren’s present-day attraction to Ben and her relationship with Spencer, impressively balancing two love stories at once. Lauren and Ben are an easy couple to root for as they face realistic adult obstacles like family and career, with the added sparkle of Ben’s celebrity.

After “getting sucked into the dark, dangerous world of the PTA and becoming an amateur detective for a few weeks,” Mavis Miller—mom to almost eight-year-old Pearl—knows she should rest. And she will, just as soon as she convinces her boss to promote her. Then she’ll finally have the breathing room she needs to focus on herself. Sure, she signed Pearl up for scouting, theater, and club soccer, but her ex-husband, drummer Corey, recently gave up his touring career in order to co-parent Pearl. Things might be a little awkward between Corey and Mavis’ new boyfriend, Knoll Elementary school psychologist Jack Cohen, but she’s choosing not to worry about that right now. When Mavis “rage-quit[s]” her job after her well-paid supervisor denies her a raise due to budget woes, she intends to use the extra time to recenter. Then someone fatally poisons Pearl’s soccer coach during a game. Police question Corey, who supplied the team’s snacks, prompting a panicked Mavis to repurpose her gratitude journal as a suspect list. Jack suggests she’s using the investigation as an excuse to ignore what happened at work, but Corey is family—she has to protect him. If digging also serves as a distraction, “well, that’s just an added bonus.” Bryant at once gently lampoons momfluencers, “pushy MLM girlboss[es],” and other modern parenting stereotypes while granting those same characters agency and complexity. Mavis’ witty, increasingly manic first-person-present narration lends a solid sense of stakes to the multifaceted plot’s assorted mysteries, and her burgeoning love triangle injects a fizz of romantic tension. Laugh-out-loud humor shares the page with candid conversations about race and mental health. (“I know self-care is, like, a thing. But it seems like it’s only okay for these white ladies to rest and self-care.”) This is a series with legs.

The history of modern Jewish life has been told on the great stages of war and terror, on the streets of villages and ghettos, and on the ships and trains that took the Jewish people to their doom or their deliverance. This exquisite book tells that history on a smaller, but no less dramatic, scale through the diary of a young Polish woman. It reveals how the upper-class Jews of late-19th- and early-20th-century Poland were often torn between identifying with their past and needing to change for the present. That tear ran along the seam of Jewish birth and Catholic conversion. Needing to convert had long been a condition for Jewish social and economic advancement. What we see in this book, however, is a subtle interplay between social pressure and personal growth. The author has discovered a remarkable document of self-understanding. The young Alicja Lewental loves her father and his faith, yet she voices a contempt for the traditional Jews around her. She grows up, she hopes to marry, but in what faith? All young people struggle with a sense of belonging. What makes Alicja so remarkable is how, in her diary, she phrases that struggle—with brilliant literary flair—as part of a larger fight for, and within, Jewish life itself. “It seemed to me that some kind of thread of the past is rupturing and that this bright, radiant past has disappeared forever.” Refusing to marry into Judaism, shunned by Catholics, Alicja writes like some great, undiscovered Kafka: “I will remain alone, completely alone among the entire human mass.”