Singing Lessons for the Stylish Canary is a beautifully crafted novel that blends elements of fairy tales, magical realism, and historical fiction. Set mostly in a small, nineteenth-century French town, it follows the family of Henri Blanchard, who craft a unique kind of musical device. The writing is lyrical and imaginative, bringing a fully formed world to life with vivid descriptions and characters, and the plot unspools as smoothly as thread from a bobbin.
Favorite New Fiction
from Small and Micro Publishers
Book Reviews
This debut novel, which won the 2020 Acheven Book Prize for Young Adult Fiction, is a heartfelt and sympathetic portrayal of an all-too-dangerous experience for many gay youth, the fraught negotiation of early romantic interest. Though marketed as young-adult fiction, The Complicated Calculus (And Cows) of Carl Paulsen explores themes that will interest readers of all ages.
As we approach middle age, it’s not uncommon for us to take stock of our lives and feel disappointment–with the choices we’ve made (or haven’t been able to make) or with where we find ourselves in terms of our relationships, our careers, or our mental, physical, spiritual, or material well-being.
In this reflective, thought-provoking novel, the main character, Polly Wainwright, finds herself in just such a place. Yet in a refreshing turn, her dissatisfaction with her life becomes a sort of engine, driving her to discover new possibilities for herself. In the process, she ends up unraveling a mystery: about a man and a place she’d encountered, and been deeply affected by, years before. All of these elements make for an engaging, richly rewarding read.
How do we find our way in life when so many things seem to be conspiring against us or limiting our choices? This insightful, sometimes heartbreaking, and often hilarious novel takes up this question from multiple characters’ perspectives. Each of their stories offers a nuanced exploration of a particular existential struggle and where it might lead, for good and for ill.
What if I just stop writing?
Hounded by self-doubt, many writers (including me) carry this question with them like a dark secret, something impossible to dispense with entirely, as much as they might want to. Now and then it surfaces, accompanied by deep anxiety or by a burgeoning sense of relief–perhaps both–depending on the circumstances.
In her equally harrowing and illuminating book–a hybrid of fiction, poetry, and literary criticism–Rebecca van Laer explores why one young woman turned a What if? to a fait accompli, ceasing to write poetry because, in her words, it could “help me no longer.” The result is a fascinating read, one that confronts an uncomfortable reality: although personal traumas can drive, and sometimes become inseparable from, creative work, this relationship isn’t necessarily healthy or sustainable, however productive it might be.
This gracefully written, heartfelt novel examines the risks and rewards of facing doubts and desires concerning the direction of one’s life, and of trying to act according to these feelings. It also considers the power of close friendships, and how these relationships can sustain us in ways that familial, or marital, bonds might not be able to.