by Nick Gardner

Indie lit has always been counterculture.

It would honestly be nuts for a small press to open their door to submissions without the desire to fight the status quo. The very idea of indie lit is anticapitalist (small presses probably won’t get you rich), anti-establishment (the “Big Five” can eat it), and, for the most part, small presses like fiction that breaks the rules. But what makes a book punk-as-fuck goes beyond the author’s antiauthoritarian leanings. It must have some other pull. It needs music.

While this list is far from exhaustive, it focuses on books of literary fiction that don’t just have that punk fierceness, that blatant challenging of authority, but those that also have the music.

Think Bad Brains, Buzzcocks, Pere Ubu. You can get behind the lyrics, the message, the ethos, the power, but a punk group is nothing if the sound doesn’t make you want to mosh. That’s what makes these specific literary fiction authors stand out: not only the shared goal of challenging the way the reader sees the world, but also an understanding of the aesthetic necessary to keep a reader glued to the page. 

Here are 7 literary fiction books that challenge the status quo.

(Book lists on Independent Book Review are chosen by very picky people. As affiliates, we earn a commission on books you purchase through our links.)

1. Someone Who Isn’t Me

Author: Geoff Rickly

Publisher: Rose Books (2023)

Print Length: 258 pages

ISBN: 9798987581827

Asterism

Amazon

Okay, some can argue that he’s more post-hardcore than punk, but Geoff Rickly’s debut novel, Someone Who Isn’t Me, hums with musical prose that rivals the best lyrical writers of literary fiction.

A heroin addict and lead singer, the protagonist, Geoff, seeks sobriety through the psychedelic drug Ibogaine. His trip sends him on a psychic spiral through his guilt-laden past, forcing him to contend with the person he has become. Rickly depicts Geoff’s wild tour across the United States, not holding back on the bickering or the drugs. It’s a dirty novel in the way that addiction can be dirty. But it also breaks the trend of stories about addiction. Refusing to pause on the fallout, Rickly writes beyond into recovery and hope. 

2. No Names

Author: Greg Hewett

Publisher: Coffee House Press (April 2025)

Print Length: 352 pages

ISBN: 9781566897259

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Greg Hewett’s No Names is by far the slowest moving of the works of literary fiction in this list. Think Sleep’s Dopesmoker. Okay, maybe it’s doom metal. Whatever the case, punk is the root.

As Hewett skips around from POV to POV, a large focus is a punk band called, of course, The No Names, and the sketchy European tour that ended the band. But there’s also quite a bit of classical music in the background, as well as a long exploration of friendships entangled with sexual experimentation. Maybe the end drags on a bit longer than expected, but the prose holds up, a song that slowly diminishes rather than ending with a crash. 

Looking for more literary fiction recommendations? Check out our best books of 2024!

3. Earth Angel

Author: Madeline Cash

Publisher: CLASH Books (April 18, 2023)

Print Length: 152 pages

ISBN: 9781955904698

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Easy to read cover-to-cover in a single sitting, Earth Angel is all power chords, heavy and fast. Cash’s sentences are short and piercing and her endings cut to nothing rather than attempting a summation or even a meaning. Because everything is meaningless, right? 

Think Biblical plagues, Isis recruits, childless millennials and millennials with children that they’re not quite sure what to do with. Think designer drugs, broke city dwellers, homicidal fantasies, porn. Maybe Earth Angel is too modern to hold to the ‘80s DIY ethos, but it’s still counterculture AF. It still questions authority, culture, and god. It’s a witty collection for confused kids who definitely don’t want to grow up.

4. Scumbag Summer

Author: Jillian Luft

Publisher: House of Vlad Press (June 2024)

Print Length: 192 pages

ISBN: 9798320644059

Bookshop

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More sex, more drugs, more blood and fallout, Scumbag Summer explores smoky bowling alleys and dive bars, the crass scenery of Orlando. Though she’s a college grad, the protagonist seems intent on continuing her nihilistic young-adulthood, refusing to settle into any kind of square, middle class grind.

Orlando for her is No Doz and 7 layer burritos, and as she lodges herself more deeply into the dumpster fire, she spots the pages with social commentary, a distrust of wealth and power and an understanding of  “trash culture,” of those stuck in on the lower rungs of the social hierarchy who sometimes can’t even imagine the climb. Scumbag Summer also contains one of the most punk lines I’ve ever read: “Love is a friendly butcher.”

5. Ghosts of East Baltimore

Author: David Simmons

Publisher: Broken River Books (2022)

Print Length: 202 pages

ISBN: 9781940885544

Amazon

A Baltimore native with a deep understanding of the underground, David Simmons shrugs off the rules in his debut literary crime thriller. As with the other books on this list, there’s a unique and manic music behind Simmons’ prose. It’s rough music, blasted loud. I mean what’s more punk than a protagonist named Worm who gets out of prison to find that he’s the only one who can take out a drug ring smuggling dangerous chemicals into his community?

Simmons raises the bar for punk AF literature with his cutting social commentary, including “crack epidemic” history lessons and a deep understanding of Baltimore’s crime and corruption-ridden past. 

6. Hellions

Author: Julia Elliott

Publisher: Tin House Books (April 15, 2025)

Print Length: 272 pages

ISBN: 9781963108064

Bookshop

Amazon

Witches, Cryptids, Ghosts, and other supernatural entities plague the pages of Julia Elliott’s strange collection of longer short fiction. No flash stories here. But just like when you enter a DIY venue and feel surrounded by like minds, the pages of Hellions is a comforting place for those who have normalized the weird.

In “The Maiden,” a community trampoline allows a witchy girl to show up the popular kids with her otherworldly acrobatics before disappearing to her woodland squat. And in “Hellion,” a tough twelve-year-old tames an alligator. Elliott’s stories are filled with loners and weirdos outperforming their normative peers and youngsters challenging their parents’ conservative ideals. What’s more punk than that?

7. Hey You Assholes

Author: Kyle Seibel

Publisher: CLASH Books (March 25, 2025)

Print Length: 272 pages

ISBN: 9781960988393

Bookshop

Amazon

Seibel’s story of trying to publish this debut book of short literary fiction, Hey You Assholes is filled with almost as many bizarre twists as the book itself. It reminds me of a 21st century reenactment of ‘80s punk bands banging down doors to book a studio or distro a record. He couldn’t have found a better home for his book than Clash Books, a publisher of some of the strangest and most energetic fiction on the market. Energetic is the word, because even the longer stories don’t stop driving. ThinkLandowner Plays Dopesmoker 666% Faster and with No Distortion.

Hey You Assholes is a deep dive into the lives of unpopular people: soft-hearted alcoholics, wiley factory workers, and Navy veterans who feel forever lost at sea. None of Seibel’s characters have money or power and they definitely don’t have any respect for The Man. 

Want some thrills in your bookshelf? Check out the best indie thrillers!

About the Author

Nick Gardner is a writer, teacher, and critic who has worked as a winemaker, chef, painter, shoe salesman, and addiction counselor. His latest collection of stories from the Rust Belt, Delinquents And Other Escape Attempts, is out now from Madrona Books. He lives in Ohio and Washington, DC and works as a beer and wine monger in Maryland.

Thank you for reading Nick Gardner’s “Literary Fiction Books That Are Punk AF!” If you liked what you read, please spend some more time with us at the links below.

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Reviewed by Samantha Hui

A poignant story about how true freedom lies not in escaping the past but in embracing the present journey

“You can waste your whole life thinking you see things clearly until you wake up one morning and realize you haven’t seen a goddamn thing.”

Rob Costello’s An Ugly World for Beautiful Boys delves into the complexities of identity, self-acceptance, and the scars left by a difficult past. With its powerful exploration of toxic masculinity, generational trauma, and the struggle to find joy in a harsh world, this novel challenges readers to reflect on how society shapes young men and the struggles they face in embracing their true selves. It speaks to the enduring need for love, understanding, and connection, especially when confronted with personal and societal obstacles.

“All he ever succeeded in doing was to remind me he believed we’d come from shame. If there was anything infecting our lives, it was that.”

Toby Ryerson lives in the shadow of his mother’s scandalous past and tragic death. Embracing his reputation as the son of the town’s most promiscuous woman and his identity as a beautiful, flamboyant young man, Toby refuses to shrink in the face of judgment from the conservative town of Shelter Valley. 

Yet, as he navigates the pressures of his senior year of high school, it seems he is on a path that mirrors his mother’s troubled life. His challenges multiply as he contends with the emotional turmoil of his childhood friend Dylan, who is struggling with his own sexuality, while also facing the mounting expectations of his older brother, Jimmy, who insists Toby attend college. With obstacles piling up, Toby’s senior year spirals into a chaotic series of events, forcing him to question whether any positive resolution is possible.  

“At least my body was always there to tell my story to me. It was the one thing I truly owned in life, and its infinite capacity for sensation, its responses to pleasure and pain were mine and mine alone.”

Told almost as an epistolary novel addressed to his late mother, this story offers an intimate glimpse into the heart and mind of a young man grappling with his fears, desires, and unresolved past. Through Toby’s eyes, we witness not only his internal struggles but also the broader issues of America’s relationship with the past and the unspoken consequences now arising in its present. 

Toby never received closure after his mother overdosed when he was just four years old, and now, as Dylan falls into a coma before they can resolve their relationship, Toby faces the painful reality of unfinished connections. His strained relationship with his brother Jimmy, who avoids talking about their mother and anything truly meaningful, only deepens the emotional rift between them. These unresolved issues shape Toby’s complex sense of self, making him both fiercely independent and fearful that his own selfishness may lead to destruction.

“But without my brother to dream better things for me, all I had left was this, the best I’d ever dreamed for myself.”

This novel shines in its exploration of the various ways masculinity manifests in the lives of young men, highlighting the damaging effects of toxic masculinity in every scenario. Costello has created multi-dimensional characters who are raw, imperfect, and utterly human. Readers will find themselves swept up in Toby’s joy, only to feel frustration when he makes mistakes. While Toby is proud of his beauty and queerness, his desire to maintain a strong sense of identity pushes him to dream of escaping Shelter Valley for the city. 

But his longing to leave blinds him to the important question: What awaits him in the city? Dylan, in contrast, serves as a foil to Toby; his more masculine, closeted identity forces him to navigate the complexities of being a gay man who desires to remain unnoticed and adhere to societal expectations. Through their contrasting journeys, this novel powerfully portrays the struggle of embracing one’s true self in a world that demands conformity.

“You can’t burn your bridges to home. Don’t you know that’s what makes it home?”

An Ugly World for Beautiful Boys is a deeply moving novel about finding self-acceptance and communal joy amidst life’s messiness. Content warning for readers who have experienced certain traumas, as the book touches on topics such as substance abuse, death, sexual abuse, harassment, homophobia, and child neglect. Given that Toby is only seventeen, the series of events he faces are even more devastating. This novel will leave readers reflecting on the men in their lives and recognizing that these men were once boys, and many of them were failed by an ugly world. But with a little more love and acceptance, perhaps these boys can still find their way back to beauty.

Thank you for reading Samantha Hui’s book review of An Ugly World for Beautiful Boys by Rob Costello! If you liked what you read, please spend some more time with us at the links below.

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Reviewed by Haley Perry

An emotionally wrought tale about lost love and learning to move on

One year after the untimely death of his wife Amber, Howard Lynch is caught in a flood alongside his dog Coby. As the town’s river rises, Howard must decide whether to escape his home to safety or risk his life to remain with the last physical link to his relationship with Amber.

The novel is told in alternating timelines, so the author fills in the gaps of Howard’s life as the narrative progresses. The 2001 timeline begins two weeks after Amber’s death and follows 47-year-old Howard through the initial stages of his grief. It then skips a year to the time of the flood, where Howard reckons with life without Amber and the concept of moving on. 

The other timeline begins in 1962 when Howard is eight years old and living with his violent father after his mother walks out. While about a third of the earlier timeline is devoted to Howard’s childhood and adolescence, the remainder of this timeline is dedicated to his complex relationship with Amber. 

Howard and Amber’s relationship is beautifully intense yet tragic at every turn. From the moment Howard first sees Amber at a bar and spends the night with her, he knows he is meant to be with her. Yet unexpected events keep him from returning for a few weeks, and, in that time, she moves away. 

For the next five years, Howard recalls Amber as the one who got away, until he stumbles upon her book signing and the pair is reunited. Throughout their twenties and thirties, the couple dances around one another, breaking hearts and realizing that what they’ve found might have come too late. And yet once they do finally end up together, their tragedy unfolds a final time as Amber passes.

Murray’s writing style is clear and dynamic. While not all of the characters are likable, they are exceptionally real and always three-dimensional. Even the smallest characters have clear motives and strong personalities. Howard’s story is heart-wrenching and engaging throughout, and, kudos to the author for this one, Autumn In Wolf Valley skips forward in time effortlessly without ever feeling rushed. The pace is spot on.

The first forty or so pages include a near-continual depiction of animal and child abuse and neglect, so it can be difficult to get too close to. However, this does decrease in frequency as the novel progresses, and it is relevant to understanding Howard’s character growth. While the novel is inherently sad in nature—it centers around grief for a lost partner after all—the moments sometimes feel so melancholic that it could bring readers down a few notches. Have your tissues ready.

This is a sorrowful, heartfelt novel about reckoning with guilt, death, and lost love. But from this sadness emerges a message about moving on and recognizing the love you had.

Thank you for reading Haley Perry’s book review of Autumn In Wolf Valley by Ed A. Murray! If you liked what you read, please spend some more time with us at the links below.

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Reviewed by Eric Mayrhofer

Poetic and inventive, Fiston Mwanza Mujila’s The Villain’s Dance sees—and mourns—the Angola that could have been.

There are times when the momentous occurs, when you see clear as day the before and the after, the exact moment that life irrevocably changed. For many, that might be a loved one’s death. For Tshiamuena, one of the central characters in Fiston Mwanza Mujila’s The Villain’s Dance, it is the missed opportunity for Angola to eschew the sway of White colonialism and achieve its own greatness.

In the novel’s opening pages, Tshiamuena reveals that after the revolution removing the country from foreign rule, Angola “was becoming a colander. Porous borders. A stampede in both directions. [Young Zairians] breezed in by the dozens, by the hundreds, carrying all sorts of goods. Angola was cut off from the world. And staples…were snapped up like you haven’t the slightest idea. We bartered gems for these products thousands of times.”

Throughout the novel, readers see her presiding over ambitious Angolan miners as a mix of spiritual prophet, memory keeper, governor, and mascot. She is a woman who builds her own myth by shrouding her very age in mystery—was she born in the twentieth century or the fifteenth?—and she is, as her would-be biographer Franz puts it, “a lady who’s a little too full of herself.” 

First and foremost, however, Tshiamuena is a mourner grieving a nation that could have been. She watches human chains of miners bring up diamonds from the Angolan dirt, gems that have no value until they leave the country and arrive in Belgium, where presumably White Europeans decide their worth.

This situation could have been avoided, but as Tshiamuena sees repeatedly, her people miss the bigger picture, the true wealth. They trade their diamonds away for more worthless things that are more immediately attainable. Why? Because fulfilling desires, even if you fulfill them with worthless things, can bring the illusion of wealth.

Readers see that dynamic over and over again in The Villain’s Dance as the novel flits from Tshiamuena to both Franz and two other boys: Molakisi, who runs away from home to realize his (wholly unoriginal) dreams of being rich, and Sanza, who begins the story homeless as a direct result of Molakisi’s actions. 

While the story itself is somber, following these characters through their hardships is a delight. Mujila’s voice is commanding without being obvious, drawing readers in with an inviting, conversational tone that feels like someone talking to you. Readers will be dozens of pages in before realizing how far and fast they’ve been swept along. 

The prose is inventive as well. The book opens with vivid, tall tale description of Tshiamuena, for instance. “Tshiamuena this, Tshiamuena that. Tshiamuena’s got wings, big wings, and as soon as night falls, this witch takes off and flits about for miles and miles,” the gossiping hordes say, but this larger-than-life portrait is a gateway into learning about the setting—Angola after rebellion.

By the same token, readers learn that Franz, a character seemingly disconnected from everything in Angola if it weren’t for his fascination with Tshiamuena, is plagued by “insane perfectionism. For him, the sentence was what really counted in a novel. He gauged each one in the manner of an ophthalmologist examining his patients’ eyes.” At every turn, Mujila chooses an oblique or character-driven angle to explore the novel’s larger themes, and The Villain’s Dance is more breathtaking for the choice.

That approach also ensures that The Villain’s Dance always circles back to its main questions: What is true wealth? Is giving over to your base desires ever truly fulfilling? And is it better overall to live in reality, to see a humbled self and a broken world for what they are, or to live in the beautiful legends we build for ourselves? Tshiamuena may grieve discovering the answers, but readers will revel in exploring these ideas—and this story—for themselves. 

Thank you for reading Eric Mayrhofer’s book review of The Villain’s Dance by Fiston Mwanza Mujila! If you liked what you read, please spend some more time with us at the links below.

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Reviewed by Addison Ciuchta

An expertly woven story collection about love and identity in a fully fleshed Greenwich Village

Made up of one novella and fifteen short stories, Greenwich Connection is all set in the same world— Greenwich Village in New York—but taking place at different times. 

The novella follows Monty and Terry, both soldiers in 1944 who fall in love with each other on the battlefield. When Monty is presumed dead, Terry is left reeling in the aftermath of their brief but meaningful time together. Then a chance encounter in a parking lot sets Terry’s life in another direction. The short stories that follow take the point of view of other residents of Greenwich Village between 1944 and 2001, all of whom have their own journeys finding love and happiness as members of the LGBTQ+ community across the decades.

Each character’s story intertwines with another’s. Those set in the later years give a new perspective or resolution to those set further in the past, and each adds more depth and development to the world. A character who may play a small role in the lives of Terry and Monty may take center stage in another’s life or even get their own moment to shine as the main character of their own short story. It’s a fun and enriching way to build on a world while only giving characters glimpses into the lives of characters who feel real. The author writes with a sharp poeticism, introducing characters and their quirks in as little as one sentence before they’re endearing enough to root wholeheartedly for.

“Terry was eternally on the lookout for trouble and overjoyed when it found him.”

While it could be easy to slip into the same voice for each character, the author doesn’t fall into that trap. Each point of view is different, each struggle is unique to the character, and each love story is individual and touching in equal measure. Each character is gay or lesbian or queer, and their stories are intentional, thoughtful, and realistic. The author doesn’t shy away from hard topics either, with characters experiencing AIDS, addiction, violence, heartbreak, and tragedy. But the stories don’t tokenize or caricature anyone; each character is given their space to become their own person with flaws and dreams and a unique point of view.

“Miss Dee Andrea Monet smoothed the nylon stocking against her left calf, which still bore several almost-imperceptible welts from her childhood.”

The setting becomes a character in and of itself, especially as characters move around the same spaces in the same neighborhood but seen through different eyes. The constant interweaving of stories gives the city a lived-in feel as readers get to see it across nearly sixty years. Since the one-off character we see walking down the street or doing performance art in one story could get their own story down the line, it emits a living, breathing atmosphere to the entire neighborhood. We’re reminded that everyone in that city (and in your own) has their own lives, struggles, and identities.

“She was happy for me, but sad too because she’d seen lightning strike and knew it wasn’t going to happen twice.”

Greenwich Connection is a striking, superbly interwoven collection that rings with realism as queer characters languish, live, and love in the same neighborhood spanning six decades.

Thank you for reading Addison Ciuchta’s book review of Greenwich Connection by Richard Natale! If you liked what you read, please spend some more time with us at the links below.

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Reviewed by Toni Woodruff

A smartly funny collection of lists, quips, and critiques

It takes an experimentalist to write this kind of literary fiction—a collection that dabbles, that dances, that reflects the rush of our slow everyday lives. An academic in mind but a human at heart, Radu Guiaşu is our qualified experimentalist here. And he’s ready to poke fun at just about everything, with sharp punchlines, funny concepts, and entertaining lists.

This book is a hodgepodge of creativity. You already know about the lists in the collection, but that isn’t the only alternate form the stories take. Some are fictional essays; some are all dialogue; some are an absolute riot. 

I’m looking at you, “Save the Yellow-Bellied Scumsucker!” Oh man, this story. The titular fish thrives on scum—on gross rivers and streams, on the negative effects humans have had on it. But we keep cleaning it! Sure it might sound good to clean all the rivers and streams, but what if you’re destroying a species? This is a fun, lighthearted play on conservation efforts, but it doesn’t even knock it in the end. It acknowledges our role in it, that we are funny and worth laughing at, and that life impacts life, no matter how.

“If I didn’t talk about what a loser I am, I would have nothing to say.”

Guiaşu’s creative forms take on varied subjects, but many of them are cutting up academia, publishing, and why people do the things they do. Some stories are joke forward while other stories lead with their heart and have jokes in tow, like “Rolls Royce Silver Shadow,” a meaningful story about childhood, memory, and artifacts. Other highlights include “The Date” and “The Day the Bear Came.”

There’s a lot to like in this collection, but some of the lists can feel a bit repetitive and some are more effective than others. Since all of them come in during the second half of the book, it creates for a swift reading experience, but I can’t help but wonder what it would have felt like if only the best of them were interspersed with the other story forms instead of one after the other. 

The book’s best lists tell stories and make us laugh at the same time, like “Things You Probably Should Not Say at Your 40th High School Reunion.” This one gives us glimpses into various characters and what could happen on a single night with a bunch of very old semi-friends turned strangers. I loved these lists. There isn’t much scene-setting and character-building for all those who ask that of their story collections, but readers are rewarded in other ways here.

A Good Day… is a fun foray into form-bending short stories. Guiaşu does an excellent job of keeping things light while still absolutely scorching them. If you’re looking for good jokes and inventive storytelling, you can’t go wrong here.

Thank you for reading Toni Woodruff’s book review of A Good Day And Other (Mostly) Humorous Stories & Lists by Radu Guiaşu! If you liked what you read, please spend some more time with us at the links below.

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Reviewed by Lauren Hayataka

A beautifully crafted portrait of a sorrowful dreamer, a café, and the city that surrounds them

Robert Seethaler’s The Café With No Name is a quietly profound novel that captures the pulse of 1960s Vienna through the unassuming yet deeply felt life of Robert Simon.

A dreamer with calloused hands, Simon opens a small café in one of the city’s poorest districts, unknowingly creating a refuge for the lost, lonely souls who pass through his doors. In Seethaler’s hands, the café becomes more than a setting—it is a living thing, expanding and contracting with the rhythms of the city and its people, a place where the scent of hot punch mingles with cigarette smoke and the heady weight of change. 

At the novel’s heart is Simon himself, a man shaped by war and loss yet filled with an unshakeable, if unspoken, yearning for connection. Raised in an orphanage after losing his parents, Simon is terribly practical, hardworking, and earnest to a fault. And yet, despite his pragmatic approach to life, there is something deeply romantic about him.

His decision to take over the run-down market café is less a calculated business move than an act of defiance against a world that has always dictated his circumstances. Unable to come up with a name, he and the neighborhood butcher decide it needs none. After all, everyone already knows where to go.

Seethaler’s prose is deceptively simple, filled with exquisite yet simple details that illuminate the world of the café. The novel moves through intimate and grand moments: the widow’s quiet snores from the next room, the single black shoe left behind the counter, and the soft clink of coins in Simon’s pocket as he wipes down the bar. Through his eyes, we see Vienna in transition, where war-torn streets are slowly smoothed over with prosperity, where modernity arrives not with fanfare but in subtle shifts: the growing presence of automation; the construction of the subway; the way that time, despite its movement, seems to leave people much the same.

The café becomes a gathering place for an eclectic cast of characters, each bringing their histories, burdens, and quiet hopes.

There is Mila Szabica, the diligent seamstress with permanently reddened hands, whose reliability anchors the café’s ever-changing landscape.

There is René Wurm, the hulking Heumarkt wrestler who falls hopelessly in love with her, so distracted by his longing that he nearly has his ribs broken in the ring.

There is Heide Bartholome, the cheesemonger whose dramatic outbursts over her lover’s infidelities unfold with operatic intensity, her emotions spilling into the marketplace like an overturned cart of cabbages.

And there is the widow, a quiet yet constant presence in Simon’s life, whose slow decline into forgetfulness underscores his dedication to her. Simon will leave neither the widow nor his café. 

Years pass in short, fluid chapters, carrying with them a sense of inevitability and loss. Worries replace reckless eagerness, and dreams take a quieter, more cautious form. Simon longs for love, not just for its warmth but for the ache it brings. He is not an awkward figure who shies away from women; rather, he is drawn to them, if only because of how different they are from himself.

Yet love remains elusive—first in the mercurial, unpredictable Jascha, a woman as fleeting as a half-remembered dream, and later in his own growing inability to understand the women who drift in and out of his life. Meanwhile, the café’s patrons grow older, but their routines remain unchanged, reinforcing the novel’s central theme: that no matter how much time passes, certain things—loneliness, longing, the need for connection—endure.

Seethaler’s restraint is part of what makes The Café With No Name so deeply affecting. Moments of joy—a noisy, blissful wedding; the first rush of customers drawn in by the widow’s secret hot punch recipe—are tempered by inevitable sorrow. The loss of a child. A market fire. The slow, creeping losses accumulate not in dramatic tragedy but in the quiet erosion of time.

And yet, despite this melancholy, there is something enduringly beautiful in Simon’s world—a beauty found in the small things, in the warmth of a well-worn space, in the routine of polishing stove plates and wiping down counters, in the knowledge that, for a time, the café is a home to those who need it.

In the end, The Café With No Name is less about a place than the people who lingered at its doorway, leaving behind only the faintest traces of their existence. Seethaler’s novel lingers like the scent of coffee in the air—warm, fleeting, and profoundly human.

Thank you for reading Lauren Hayataka’s book review of The Cafe With No Name by Robert Seethaler! If you liked what you read, please spend some more time with us at the links below.

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Reviewed by S.A. Evans

An authentic rendering of a writer’s angst and melancholia in a time where the American Dream has become a falsehood

The Dreamer’s Quarry follows Warner, a twenty-seven-year-old writer who is trying to balance his monotonous day-job with his writing endeavors, but he’s stuck in a creative rut.

As Warner floats through life trying to find purpose and meaning, he interacts with his wife Rose, his coworker Jack, his friend Charlie, and finally comes across a mysterious stranger at a party by the name of Jameson. After meeting him, nothing is quite the same again.

The story begins as Rose wishes Warner a good day at work, proclaiming this will be the day he will come home with a well-earned raise. At work, he chats with his coworker Jack about the common nature of the corporate world nowadays where a worker puts everything into the job only to receive very little in return. With low pay and few benefits (if any), there’s a clear decline in employee satisfaction. A sad state of work-life balance is on glittering display. 

On the day of the annual review, Warner comes home with a certificate of appreciation and a 1% increase on his annual salary. At home, he sulks in his study with an unfinished manuscript and no motivation or inspiration to propel it forward. Soon after, Warner’s friend Charlie invites him to bartend at a party. Wanting to help his friend and with no further progress on his writing, Warner goes. 

It’s during a smoke break when he meets Jameson. We don’t learn much about Jameson during their exchange, but by the end of the interaction, Jameson invites Warner to a party at his house the following night, and Warner is all the more intrigued by him. As we get to him, we start to wonder if Jameson can set free the creativity that Warner’s so desperate to release.

The Dreamer’s Quarry expertly delivers on its portrayal of a struggling creative in the current world. Warner goes about his job without passion, but he doesn’t have the motivation to do the things he cares about either. The positive feelings he has about writing are overshadowed by the criticism he’s received and self-doubt. 

When Warner is asked if he’s still writing, he responds by saying, “Not as much lately, and I feel badly about it. Like I am not trying hard enough.” As a writer myself, I can’t count how many times I’ve given that same response over the years. The coping mechanism he displays is spot-on. Rose, Charlie, and Jack all show concern for Warner, but Warner tends to brush things off, bottle up his emotions, and say he’s all right even when when deep down he’s clearly not. Warner acts as a mirror to the modern-day creative person. For those who love reading about writing, you’re going to love this depiction.

The prose is another highlight of this book, whether it be in discussing the never-ending cycle of a traditional 9-to-5 or in literary devices like foreshadowing: “He had a sturdy countenance, a flickering passion. But there was weariness in his face, a tired, defeating weight in his eyes such that, if looked at for long enough, and if alone, might procure a salty leak.” 

While the prose on the sentence level excels, a lack of scene setting and character development left me at an emotional distance. The story takes place in the Midwest from the end of Summer to early Fall, but with mild descriptions, scenes can feel like they’re happening in empty white space and characters can feel like outlines. I would have loved to learn more about Rose and Warner’s relationship, Warner and Jack’s relationship, and even Charlie’s. They are set up to be the closest people to Warner, but in reality, he’s closest to Jameson, despite them only recently meeting. I’m glad Jameson is here, of course; Warner needs a kindred spirit to ignite the flame.

The Dreamer’s Quarry is a compelling exploration into the mind of a writer. The struggles can consume you, the 9-to-5 life can drain you, leaving you feeling adrift and aimless, but there remains the possibility of inspiration from the most unexpected sources. The journey to creation is a difficult one, and one best unrushed, but this story leaves you hopeful, ready to tackle what you can, while you can.

Thank you for reading S.A. Evans’s book review of The Dreamer’s Quarry by Michael A. Luksch! If you liked what you read, please spend some more time with us at the links below.

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Reviewed by Elizabeth Reiser

A family is forced to face their longstanding issues in this emotionally fraught novel. 

Family tensions boil over when three sons return to their parents’ lake house at their father’s cryptic request in James Gilbert’s Reunion By the Lake. 

Family patriarch Richard Collins knows it is time for him to get his affairs in order, as his health is failing fast. He has summoned his sons Seth, Deck, and Nick to visit and plans on letting them know that not only is he nearing the end of his life, but he has made a decision that will impact all of them after he is gone. 

Richard directs a lot of anger toward his sons, as they have not lived up to his high expectations. The pressure they felt growing up has impacted their paths into adulthood. 

Seth, the adopted eldest (as no one has ever let him forget), has found a wife and religion, but his career is nonexistent. Deck is successful but has not been able to commit to a relationship. Lastly, the youngest Nick is a mediocre cellist with an open secret he cannot find the strength to confirm. Gilbert introduces all three individually and paints a realistic portrait of fractured sibling relationships born out of toxic family dynamics. 

As the story unfolds, more is revealed about the relationships within the family, and it is easy to see how they have become so fractured. Seth is an especially intriguing character; he first comes across as an unstable conspiracy theorist but develops much beyond that. His ability to look for the good in others gives him depth, while his brothers seem to fade into the background. It rings true that some characters grow throughout, while others stubbornly refuse. 

The overall toxicity stems from their father, a compelling and believable character who values success and wealth above all. His focus on his definition of achievement stands in his way, and the disconnect he and his wife Grace feel about their children is a heartbreaking one. Grace is a tragic figure, as she allows Richard to rule their house cruelly and loses her voice in the process, but there are glimmers of the stronger person she keeps tamped down. The tension between them is palpable and drives the story forward; their love has devolved into one of obligation, and Gilbert captures this well. 

Gilbert has done a lovely job weaving an intricate tale that showcases the complexity of family dynamics. While the plot moves forward deliberately, the book itself manages to be a quick read, and this is due to its smooth storytelling. Reunion by the Lake is a familiar and honest tale that rewards its audience. 

Thank you for reading Elizabeth Reiser’s book review of Reunion by the Lake by James Gilbert! If you liked what you read, please spend some more time with us at the links below.

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Reviewed by S.A. Evans

A journey through parenthood in lyrical sentimentality

Songs My Mother Taught Me is a thoughtful exploration of family dynamics and the value of life lessons being passed down through the generations. 

The story is set up with Kim, a cellist-turned-lawyer, who finds life not quite as she dreamed, especially after she becomes pregnant to an abusive man. Her journey (and her friends’ and family’s journeys) move through the ups and downs of life—things that remind her of the songs her mother taught her over the years.

Now divorced from her abusive ex-husband Larry, Kim is standing at an airport with her young son Nathan as she prepares him for his court-ordered trip to his father’s house. To retain some control over the situation, Larry has managed to get custody visits with his son. 

Since Larry can’t be bothered to pick his son up from the airport himself, he has his long-term fiancé Leeza do it for him. Once Nathan is in the arms of Leeza, Kim remains at the airport to gather herself.

“You can never make people do the right thing all the time, even when you spell it out. They just don’t notice, or don’t care.” 

From there, Kim tries to steady herself and make sense of the world around her and how she got here. In flashbacks, we see Kim’s family history with her older sister Karen and their mother Bobbie. Bobbie had been critical of Kim’s life choices, and Karen believes it’s because Kim and their mother are so similar.

The plot really picks up when, during the divorce process with Larry, she starts to date John. Soon enough, Kim and John are engaged over the phone and get married three weeks later. The plot jumps back and forth in time and ultimately sees Kim adjusting to new changes as her family grows, as their careers change, and as the people around them weave in and out of their lives. John and Kim have each other and their children. Together they can face anything. Seems pretty nice, right?

The sentimentality is what really drives this novel—it’s a fantastic feeling when concerning family dynamics and navigating life as a unit. Part two sees those sentimental moments kick up into high gear. I went from feeling slightly indifferent to feeling so much sadness for the family and wanting nothing more for them than to find a way to heal and come back together from it. 

Another thing this book does well are the songs themselves. Since music is a big part of Kim, Karen, and Bobbie’s lives to varying degrees, lessons are called songs. When Nathan is still young and adjusting to the custody visits with Larry, Kim remembers the song, “The truth of the matter was that motherhood was an education in all things in life against which you could not protect your child—which was most of them.” 

Kim sees John as a reliable and steady force in her life—“In our ocean bedroom, we were a little raft in calm seas, and he was my anchor” —but once we get to the end of part one, we witness a moment where she allows herself to think more fully about the marriage (that she refers to as a “real marriage”). 

Kim thinks to herself, “No matter how long you’ve been married, there was a whole swath of your life forever cloaked from your spouse, a private universe, richly stocked and peopled, that you could never share.” This thought foreshadows how Kim will think of their marriage going forward, and it’s complemented by the song Bobbie sung years ago, “So much of marriage is dumb luck.” Through these very real feeling characters, readers see how you can lose yourself in marriage and how hard it can be to keep a family together in the face of tragedy and change.

The structure of the novel did find me lost a few times, unsure whether I was in the present or past or how much time had gone by since the last scene or chapter. Since the story is told over so many years, it amounts to a lot of time jumps and a lot of characters as well.

Songs My Mother Taught Me is a moving story of parenthood. I’ve never felt so much of a parent’s struggle in a book like I have with this one. This novel demonstrates the complexity of familial connections and how they impact us well into adulthood and parenthood.

If you love literary fiction that makes you want to reach through the pages and give the characters a great big hug, definitely check out Songs My Mother Taught Me.

Thank you for reading S.A. Evans’s book review of Songs My Mother Taught Me by Helen Winslow Black! If you liked what you read, please spend some more time with us at the links below.

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