You know what’s the best cure for that garden-variety boredom? Literature. Preferably something you physically pull from the shelves of a library or a bookstore, though summoning that e-reader in your screens wouldn’t hurt, too. Allow us help you with that—here’s a week’s worth of book recommendation to help you combat the “blahs.”
By Emily St. John Mandel
Tales of the apocalypse have devoured contemporary bestseller lists over the past few years, and with the same plot getting reused more than tenfold in different books (all led by cookie-cutter headstrong rebelles heralding their war against tyrants), it’s difficult to ensnare the audience with a similar premise. But through Station Eleven, Emily St. John Mandel proves that it’s all a matter of perspective. In it, a troupe of warrior-theatre artists have dedicated themselves to keep the remnants of art and humanity alive by performing in towns (or what’s left of them) after a flu pandemic wiped more than half the population of the world. The anecdotes are quotidian, but their power to make you contemplate are indisputably stunning.
By Laura Ruby
Magical realism shines in this young adult novel that playfully cradles and hides Easter Eggs from the pages of D’Aulaires’ Book of Greek Myths. In the town of Bone Gap, no one would believe Finn that his friend Roza has been kidnapped, because the only way he could describe the abductor is how it stands “like a cornstalk in the wind.” Finn surmises it’s either there’s something awfully wrong with the townsfolk…or there’s something awfully wrong with him.
Tell the Wolves I’m Home
By Carol Rifka Brunt
This is the kind of book that should be labeled “This Would Slowly Destroy Your Heart, But You’ll Love Every Moment of It”—we swear, there’s no other perfect blurb than that. Tell the Wolves I’m Home simply follows a little girl dealing with her grief after her favorite uncle died of AIDS. His partner’s uncle reaches out to her, and together, they try to patch up each other’s brokenness.
Made You Up
By Francesca Zappia
We take reality for granted; some of us even harbor a special kind of disgust for it that we bawl internally like babies when we have to “go back to reality” after ecstatic episodes of escapism. For Alex, it’s a precious thing she wish she could easily get but could not, after being diagnosed with bipolar disorder. This narrative spills out what it’s like to be in her head, and how a single thought in it could either crush or revive her weary heart.
By Chuck Palahniuk
Chuck Palahniuk is a #NoFilter prosemeister and a juggler of sick authenticity and even sicker delusions. In Invisible Monsters, the writer takes a gorgeous supermodel, a shotgun, and then throws them in an insane journey in all possible shades of blood-red (and probably every other color you’ll see when you’re on an acid trip). You’ll need a palate cleanser in the form of fluffy romance lit after reading this.–CINDERELLA IN COMBAT BOOTS