“The Point of Me” is definitely one of those reads you have to be in the right mood for given it’s rather heavy subject matter. The story follows James, a young teenager who is diagnosed with cancer. What follows is in part a tale of how such a devastating diagnosis affects him and his family, and is in part a purple-prose spirit journey that delves into a metaphysical fantasy realm, that could, theoretically, be interpreted as a sick young man’s fevered dreams while the various cancer treatments course through his veins. Davidson pens an incredibly beautiful story, one that covers a devastating topic, while trying to offer some hope to both her characters, and those who may be dealing with what James and his family are experiencing. But for as important of a topic as this is, it is a pretty slow read.

What kind of secrets do families keep from one another? Are there truly some that should never be revealed? What is family actually worth? These are some of the very hard, and often times uncomfortable, questions that Goodson brings up in her debut novella. Nothing is as it seems when family members come together to make good on their grandfather/father’s last wish in order to get their inheritance: they all must work together to clean out the old family home. What transpired was such an emotional roller coaster I was completely unprepared for it, but I so loved the ride!

Let’s get a couple things straight right off the bat: I wanted to love this book. I really did! In a day and age (still!) where it is unfortunately common to belittle a woman’s intellect, deny her the same accolades freely offered to a man, a woman’s work in ANY field to be viewed as lackluster compared to a male counterpart, I wanted to love this book HARD. But I didn’t. Even with stories of women being passed over for men being so common, I felt that this particular story was forced. A huge assumption was made in something that is supposed to be historical fiction, and in order to lift a woman up, someone else had to be torn down. In this case, another very real person: Einstein.

First and foremost, I feel it necessary to give every trigger imaginable for rape, sexual assault and just assault in general for this beautifully dark book. “Drowning Above Water” is about a woman who first finds herself as a child prostitute when her addiction to pain medication drives her to do anything for her next fix, and then a victim of sex trafficking as her own mother pushes her into the arms of someone who whisks Teckla—now Malina—to the states from Poland where she stays for years. That is until she decides she will not be forced into having another abortion. She’s going to keep this baby, and do whatever is necessary to ensure its survival. “Drowning Above Water” is a seriously heavy read, and yet I couldn’t put it down. I devoured this book; I ached alongside Malina, Petyr, and Guin, and I was transfixed by Malina’s journey through the underbelly of the sex “industry”. This book is heavy, dark, and beautifully written, and it’s an important story that is, unfortunately, not fiction for many across the world.

“All the Tomorrows” is a lovely dive into a culture I am unfamiliar with outside of popular movies and music. Nasser brings the reader immediately into an authentic portrayal of India with its buzzing streets, fragrant foods, beautiful clothing, and traditional Indian family values such as arranged marriages and daughters caring for their parents if they are unwed. You have to be willing to accept those cultural differences or Jaya’s subservient behavior to her cruel mother will immediately anger you and make it hard to continue on. But that’s also what makes this book important: to see and be exposed to a real look at a different culture, not one that selectively shows you the good and fun bits like the Holi Festival. I really appreciated that in Nasser’s book and the author does a lovely job of describing the sights, sounds, and smells of Bombay to where I felt like I was on the streets with Jaya and Akash. I just wished I loved the characters themselves as much as I loved the rest of Nasser’s writing.