Jansi—an attorney, epidemiologist, wife, daughter, and mother of two—is a South Asian woman “swimming against a relentless current.” Caught between her demanding career, aging father, hypercritical mother, two teenage sons, and a hollow marriage, Jansi finds each day passing in a blur of anxiety. She barely even has a moment to look inward—not that she would want to, if it means disturbing the fragile sarcophagus of her buried memories. After a particularly fateful phone call, however, Jansi feels her “quiet tether of control” snap, and she plummets into a glass of wine and a handful of pills. When she comes to, Jansi finds herself staring at the prospect of six to eight weeks in a mental hospital. Even scarier than the idea of challenging “the stigma surrounding therapy in the Indian community” is the idea of finding herself. Supported by her beloved cousin, her therapist, and a “scheduled mix of group therapy, art classes, and mindfulness sessions,” Jansi “step[s] toward reclaiming her life from the shadows of loss.” The narrative seamlessly interweaves Jansi’s present with her past, gliding between the mental facility and her childhood home in New York City. Through therapy sessions and frequent journaling, Jansi reckons with issues of abandonment, inadequacy, and abuse that color her memories of childhood, in addition to the relationships and events that make up her present. (Abruptly removed from her home in India at 6 years old, Jansi moved to the United States to be with her parents and seemingly flawless older sister.) Adusumilli depicts Jansi’s therapy arc with detail and delicacy; her moments of reflection are tragic, brave, and satisfying. The characters (especially Jansi’s mother) are, for the most part, complex and captivating. They exist in the very real gray areas of life, and readers will be able to relate. Lovers of personal and thoughtful literature will delight in Jansi’s journey of self-discovery.

Told through the eyes of an adult reflecting on lessons learned with a childhood dog, this sweet picture book by Santos follows a youngster who spots two puppies at a Sunday market—one pristine, one flea-ridden—and is steered by Mom toward the bedraggled choice. That dog, Luna, becomes the youngster’s teacher for life as she quietly shows the child the importance of listening, having fun, and forgiveness. Seiferling works in her signature brown and white graphite style—seen previously in Bear Wants To Sing (2021) and King Mouse (2019), both by Cary Fagan—and it serves this story beautifully. The technique renders Luna’s shaggy coat with remarkable warmth and texture, while Seiferling deploys color and light with a sure hand: Warm golds suffuse the child’s dreaming face as the dog glows above like a vision, and a winter spread washes the world in cool blues and greens. Compositions shift register confidently; intimate vignettes give way to expansive park scenes teeming with dogs of every description. The story’s final turn (“Last weekend, my daughter turned seven. For her birthday she asked me for a puppy”) gives the book emotional weight and multigenerational resonance that will land hard with parents reading aloud. Human characters have light tan skin.

“I’m jealous of those who believe in a God,” writes Gupta, adding, “I’m also jealous of atheists.” Whether one is religiously “ensconced in the security of a benevolent God” or liberated from spirituality in a way that allows one to be “free to enjoy life in the moment,” the author appreciates the certainty that comes with either theistic or atheistic worldviews. Yet, as a self-described agnostic, the author is torn between competing, internalized conceptions of the world, struggling to reconcile her observations that there’s an intentional design to the universe and that the harsh realities of life indicate a cosmos seemingly devoid of useful divine intervention. Gupta offers a balanced take on what she views as the most and least convincing elements of both atheism and theism. In defense of theistic explanations, she points to documented yet unexplained paranormal events, the ubiquitous heavenly imagery and spiritual bliss associated with near-death experiences, and archaeological findings that corroborate historical narratives found in religious writings. Alternately, she acknowledges the long history of religiously inspired violence, the lack of scientifically verifiable evidence of a divine being, and the inflexibility of static beliefs in many faiths, as evidenced by their embrace of homophobia, antiquated dietary laws, and mythological narratives that are impossible to square with scientific consensus. The author’s nuanced approach to the topic is critical of both atheistic and theistic arguments that Gupta finds irrational and includes considerations of a diverse range of religious beliefs, from Christianity to Hinduism. The book’s strongest elements are the author’s honest assessment of her own philosophical conflict and the memoir-like anecdotes that ground her arguments in her personal experiences. (Growing up in a “liberal Hindu family,” Gupta would later be drawn to the writings of atheists like Christopher Hitchens and scientific studies of astrophysics and the Big Bang.) Containing dozens of the author’s lighthearted black-and-white illustrations, this is an accessible work for an agnostic audience often ignored in the debates between believers and naysayers.

Set in 2045, the story follows firefighter Miro Jackson, a member of Australia’s elite Predict, Prevent, and Control Unit, which uses a technology called MindLink to anticipate and prevent disasters before they occur. When the Delroy family dies in a suspicious house fire, Miro, informed by his former career in the New South Wales Police Force and a series of personal tragedies, begins to suspect that advanced AI systems may have influenced the outcome. The narrative then shifts to FBI agent Catalina Herrera, who’s investigating a series of unusual deaths in the American Midwest. Victims using Agentic’s augmented reality systems appear to ignore life-threatening storm warnings, raising concerns that AI-driven interfaces may be manipulating human perceptions and behavior. (“My theory, to be tested, is that our killer uses some device or psychological trick to persuade our victims to remain in a situation of almost certain death.”) As the investigations in Australia and the United States begin to overlap, the story expands into a broader conspiracy involving corporate power and environmental collapse. Miro’s deployment to the United States brings him into a collaboration, and personal connection, with Cat, even as attacks on global energy infrastructure escalate and conspiracies deepen within government and industry. Additional perspectives, including those of a mysterious observer known as the Watcher, a narrative commentary on the environmental cost of large-scale AI systems, and Agentic CEO Roger Saxton, who struggles with power issues to keep his AI running, broaden the scope of the novel. Edwards has constructed a fast-paced, high-concept narrative grounded in a timely premise about AI and its societal influence, but while the plot is consistently engaging and ambitious in scope, the frequent shifts in perspective and limited character development limit its emotional depth and blunt the novel’s overall impact.

Fourteen-year-old Levi Anderson is an observer. At home at his family’s Indiana farm, he writes a few lines each day about light and shadows, the movements and sounds of the animals, or his father’s face in an emotional moment. Despite being surrounded by family members, Levi feels lonely, and after his oldest siblings leave to enlist in the Union army, he faces the brunt of his remaining brother’s frustrations and abuse. So, in 1861, Levi enlists as well, heading out to find himself and his place in the world. He turns his talent for observation to watching the men with whom he marches—and, much later, he applies his eye to his experiences in the notorious Andersonville prisoner-of-war camp. McDonald’s descriptions transport readers into each beautiful, peaceful, shocking, or heart-wrenching moment: “He had fired into smoke and the smoke had swallowed the bullets, and what the bullets had done on the other side was something he would never know and did not want to know.” After being injured in battle, Levi is found by Confederate soldiers, who deliver him to Richmond, Virginia. Later, in Danville, Virginia, he finds a friend in Jim Dearborn, a young man who doesn’t mind Levi’s quiet, deliberate nature and who helps Levi come out of his shell and start to discover who he can be. The slow-paced, repetitive writing reflects the slow, repetitive nature of Levi’s life, marching with the infantry and in prison camps later on, and allows for introspection that will draw readers in. Later, Levi begins to heal from his traumatic experiences by writing a letter and starting to tell the story of what he’s been through.