It’s a snowy night in 1910 and Ursula Todd is born with the help of Dr. Fellowes, who has arrived in time to help mother Sylvie with this tricky birth. And so Ursula’s life begins, until she drowns on a beach trip as a child. Darkness falls.

It’s a snowy night in 1910 and Ursula Todd is born, continuing to relive her life. Each time she instinctually learns to avoid what troubles occurred in a past (or parallel) life, feeling merely like déjà vu. Kate Atkinson’s newest novel Life After Life is a trippy, humorous exploration of life and fate. Ursula’s continuous lives take her through both World Wars, with devastating and intriguing consequences. Atkinson effortlessly captures each time period, with a sharp wit reminiscent of Forster or Waugh.

If the premise sounds too gimmicky, I can assure you it doesn’t read as such. Atkinson makes it easy to get involved in this single life, with crossover themes, characters, moments, that only serve to enrich each new chapter instead of making it feel like a tedious retread of the same events. If Dan Brown’s Inferno is an obvious, thriller page-turner, Life After Life is one of those rare literary page-turners that will keep you up into the wee hours of the night.

I’ve already declared The Unchangeable Spots of Leopards as the best novel of 2013—or at least my favorite book of the year—but Life After Life could easily rival it. Both are entertaining, addicting, witty, incisive, and thought-provoking. I continue to think about the lives of Ursula and their implications, and I’m already eager to reread the novel.

Langdon awakes in a hospital and is informed by a beautiful woman, Dr. Sienna Brooks, that a bullet grazed his head and he is now suffering from acute amnesia. He is quickly distracted from his surprise upon learning he is in Italy (his last memory from a couple days ago is being at Harvard) by the arrival of spiky-haired assassin Vayentha who shoots up the hospital in pursuit of Robert. Sienna flees with him, leading him to her apartment where they regroup. There he discovers a small cylinder with a biohazard symbol in the lining of his jacket. Opening that cylinder sets him on his newest symbol-driven quest, this time to prevent an ominous Black Plague lurking in the near future.

As can be construed from the title, the framework for the mysteries in this novel are centered around Dante’s Inferno. Once again, Brown seamlessly intertwines mythology and symbolism with classic architecture and settings and modern technology. As the fourth Langdon novel, Inferno may seem poised to be a tiresome retread; but Brown breathes new life into this character, subverting many of his quirks in a fun, winking way. While nothing could ever match the sheer enormity of The Da Vinci Code, Inferno is possibly Brown’s best novel—at least his most captivating. This is one page-turner that you should definitely read this balmy summer, maybe right after you book your flight to Florence.

It’s been almost 10 years since Andy Sachs told Miranda Priestly to “fuck off” in Paris, and Andy’s life hasn’t turned out so bad. She is the editor-in-chief of the high glamour wedding magazine The Plunge with publisher Emily Charlton (yes, that Emily), who also happens to be Andrea’s current BFF. And she is about to marry the handsome, society darling Max Harrison. Yet she is still haunted by that damn ringtone (and rightfully so).

But there are some surprises lurking in Andy’s future. Since Weisberger (and even the novel’s inside flap) have been mum about what happens beyond the first chapter, I’ll refrain from many “spoilers.” Amidst a series of personal surprises, Andy faces a very important business surprise in the form of the devil herself, Miranda. Now the head of Elias-Clarke (and still editor-in-chief of Runway), Miranda is intent on adding The Plunge to Elias-Clarke’s catalog, a thought that gives Andy night tremors. Now Andy must face some life-changing decisions in a whorl of contradictory advice from her friends and family.

And therein lies the biggest problem with Revenge Wears Prada. Andy’s decision regarding Miranda’s acquisition of The Plunge is the backbone of the entire novel. Except that for Andy, it’s an easy answer: no. She never again wants to be working for Miranda, at her every beck and call and whim, losing all creative control of this magazine that she built from the ground up. Unfortunately, Andy is too meek, too people-pleasing to straight-up confront Emily about their conflicting ideas regarding the magazine’s future. Instead, she postpones the decision for over 200 pages, resulting in a very dramatic climax that comes far too late in the game to redeem the story.

While I enjoyed catching up with all the characters—and I especially enjoyed the budding friendship between Andy and Emily—the story itself gets lost in all the mess. Weisberger stalls Andy, inserting throwaway stories about celebrity brides being interviewed for the magazine that resemble her other novels more than the world of Prada. She does attempt to instill some of that Runway glamour into the novel, but those parties and events are weighed down by all of Andy’s insufferable fretting and rehashing of feelings. You want to just scream at her to make a decision (instead of standing there stuck “on the steps of the palace”).

There are certainly some great chapters intermixed with the bad that will appease and entertain fans of Weisberger and/or Prada, but the book certainly doesn’t feel cinematic enough to warrant it’s own filmic adaptation. And the title Revenge appears to be a misnomer as there is no one seeking malicious vengeance (even though I spent the entire novel predicting devious motivations for Miranda’s actions). Revenge Wears Prada is a disappointing sequel and a disappointing addition to Weisberger’s writing.

Cromwell rose from his working-class family and abusive father into the tutelage of Cardinal Thomas Wolsey, feared advisor of the King. Learning from the master of manipulation, Cromwell takes over after Wolsey’s death, assisting the King in obtaining a divorce so he can marry Anne Boleyn. What results is a character study hidden within a game for the throne and Henry’s heir.

Mantel’s Wolf Hall is just the first in a planned trilogy following Cromwell in England’s history. She has a very unique voice that takes some acclimatizing to. While told in the omniscient third person, everything unfolds from Cromwell’s perspective with Mantel referring to him constantly as “he” in similar fashion to a first-person narrator referring to themselves as “I.” This removed yet personal perspective gives you a new outlook into the world of England at this time while still providing humorous moments and observations.

For anyone in love with English history, this a new take on an old story. Because Wolf Hall is a part of a trilogy, much of the novel is spent developing Cromwell as a character and setting up many of the other royal characters. It takes nearly 2/3 of the book before it feels that something is really happening with the Anne Boleyn plot, and the ending (dealing with Thomas More) feels anticlimactic. Yet I still find myself eager to read Bringing Up Bodies (the sequel), so it appears that Mantel is at least a captivating storyteller.

A Nearly Perfect Copy

Both stories could be compelling, fully-imagined stories in their own right; but author Allison Amend mashes these two stories together in a very trite and arbitrary way. While both characters are well developed, the parallel worlds they inhabit are hard to jump back and forth between. And Elm’s professional life as an art expert in an auction house distracts from her cloning plotline as Amend tries to make her career relevant to Gabriel’s life.

In the end, A Nearly Perfect Copy suffers from trying too hard. Amend is desperately trying to engage the reader in a conversation about copying, whether in art or in our personal lives. And although she has some valid arguments to present, her convoluted novel is not the ideal setting for such a discussion—especially with such depressing storylines weighing down the central characters and the novel’s tone.

The chapters jump between Kate in the present, uncovering her daughters’ secrets and Amelia’s past leading up to her death. Interspersed are text conversations, gRaCeFULLY posts, email exchanges that further illuminate the secrets these women are hiding. It’s an immersive structure that is imminently readable while also providing compelling commentary on the social media conversational gap between parents and children. There are also a lot of relevant plot points involving school bullying, Internet friendships, and adults’ responsibilities towards teenagers.

McCreight weaves in plot twists left and right that are both unpredictable and satisfying. Though not as dark and psychologically disturbing as Gone Girl, Reconstructing Amelia is a great, swift read that’ll keep you up until the wee hours, trying to uncover all the secrets. This is one novel that should be at the top of your summer reading pile (right after this and this, of course).

He follows her from Berlin to Paris and Los Angeles in a quest to win her love, but in the process he gets inadvertently caught up in the political machinations of the time. Surrounded by a cast of hilarious, satirical characters including the blond Brit hack writer Rackenham; gay best friend and budding Nazi Achleitner; and reclusive, disturbed scientist Bailey, Loeser’s adventures take some surprising twists as he spends nearly a decade trying to bed Adele.

Sprinkled throughout the novel are circular references to the famed teleportation accident by stage designer Lavicini in 1679 that inspired Loeser’s recreation of said accident in a sprawling play about Lavicini’s life. Beauman’s inventive story-within-a-story is more akin to Margaret Atwood’s The Blind Assassin than David Mitchell’s Cloud Atlas, but either way he’s in good company. The Scotsman newspaper accurately attributes his style and influence in this quotation, “It’s as if the English tradition of humorous novels (P.G. Wodehouse, Kingsley Amis, Evelyn Waugh) and American crime fiction (Thomas Pynchon, Kurt Vonnegut, John Barth) have had their molecules recombined.” And if that isn’t a glowing enough recommendation, then I don’t know what to tell you.

If you enjoyed the winding, winking storytelling of Kristopher Jansma’s The Unchangeable Spots of the Leopards then you’ll easily get sucked into Beauman’s novel. Both are the best novels I’ve read this year, making it nearly impossible for any other author to surpass the wit expressed within these pages (but I certainly dare authors to try).

The English Teacher

Linda Sinclair (Julianne Moore) is perfectly comfortable with her quiet life as a high school English teacher—living alone and filling her spare time with reading novels and screaming at telemarketers on the phone. (Or so the trite and too on-the-nose narrator would have us believe.) But, when former student Jason Sherwood (Michael Angarano) returns to town after failing to make it as a Broadway playwright, Linda starts to become more active in her own life. She reads Jason’s play The Chrysalis and loves it (weird moth characters and all). She loves it so much that she becomes determined to mount a high school production of it (despite its decidedly adult and Ibsen-like tone). Yet Linda gets carried away with her passion for the project and her need to rekindle Jason’s aims as a writer. (read more)

The Pretty One

Once upon a time not too long ago, in a land not unlike rural California, there were twin sisters (both played by Zoe Kazan) who were as different as night and day. Audrey was a social butterfly. She won every competition. She stole boys’ hearts. She had a chic sense of style. And she moved away from home not long after her mother’s death. Conversely, Laurel was a wallflower. She had only one winning ribbon to her name. She only got the boys who weren’t good enough to attract Audrey. She had a hipster sense of style. And she stayed home to take care of her father after her mother’s death. (read more)

A Birder’s Guide to Everything

David Portnoy (Kodi Smit-McPhee) may have spotted the extinct Labrador Duck. Sure, David’s only a 15-year-old birder and still reeling from his mother’s death over a year ago, but he needs to place his faith in something, so why not this extinct bird (although he will deny later in the film that the bird is a metaphor for anything). It also doesn’t help that his father (James LeGros) is about to marry Juliana (Daniela Lavender), who was David’s mother’s nurse no less. Thus it is understandable that David wants to evade the wedding to track down the supposedly extinct duck. (read more)

What Richard Did

Richard spent the weekend hanging out with his friends. Richard started dating Lara. Richard had a family cookout with his rugby coach. Richard grew jealous of Conor’s intimate friendship with Lara. Richard went shopping. And Richard slept with Lara at his family’s beach house. That’s what Richard did. Oh, and Richard killed someone. (read more)

A Single Shot

While out hunting a deer, notorious poacher John Moon (a heavily-bearded Sam Rockwell) accidentally shoots and kills a young woman. As he searches for a place to dump the body, he stumbles upon her encampment and a box full of cash. Haunted by the dead woman’s image, John attempts to redeem himself by using the money to salvage what’s left of his tenuous marriage to Jess (Kelly Reilly), with whom he shares a son. But as the men who want that money begin to terrorize him, John is caught in a deadly (and dull) game of cat and mouse. (read more)

Elaine Stritch: Shoot Me

Elaine Stritch is an iconic actress of both the stage and screen. Now well into her mid-80s she is still pushing herself to produce quality performances. But between her battle with alcoholism and combating a serious case of diabetes, Stritch is starting to grow weary. Not that she’ll let that stop her from helming yet another one-woman cabaret show (with a multi-city tour to boot). So one week after spotting Stritch at her hair salon, filmmaker Chiemi Karasawa agreed with her hair stylist’s suggestion that she should make a documentary about Stritch. (read more)

Trust Me

The newest movie by filmmaker Clark Gregg (aka The Avengers‘ Agent Coulson) delves into his surprisingly “ambiguous feelings” for the movie-making business—specifically the world of child actors and their agents. Playing one of those notorious agents himself, Gregg brings to life the down-on-his-luck Howard Holloway. Struggling to retain a single client while combating his highly successful archnemesis Aldo Shocklee (Sam Rockwell in a mercifully focused and comedic performance—unlike in A Case of You), Howard fears his days in the business are numbered. (read more)

The Reluctant Fundamentalist

While it may seem odd that acclaimed Indian filmmaker Mira Nair is tackling a film centered around a Pakistani man, she certainly doesn’t think so. What drew her to The Reluctant Fundamentalist was its new look at the Iraq and Afghantistan wars. She read the novel (of the same name) by author Mohsin Hamid and fell in love with the fresh new look at the psychology of this subject. While those stories are normally told from the American point of view,Fundamentalist looks at it through the eyes of a Pakistani man. The film delves into “the mutual suspicion with which America and Pakistan (or the Muslim world) look at one another.” And through this unique point of view, we can gain a deeper understanding of the cultural differences that have informed so much hate in our country. (read more)

Bluebird

Lance Edmands’ debut film Bluebird is inspired by the Robert Frost poem, “The Last Word of the Blue Bird.” As he summates, “the poem tells the story of a little girl named Lesley who finds a bluebird, which she befriends. But when winter comes, the bird tells her that it must fly south.” The bird must escape the inhospitable environment of the wintry north if it hopes to survive. Edmands says, “The poem was used to teach children about loss.” It is exactly this loss and striving to find an environment to live in that he captures in his film. (read more)

G.B.F.

In suburban high schools, the G.B.F. (or Gay Best Friend, for those not up on the vernacular) is the hot new thing. The only problem for the students in G.B.F.? There are no gay students at the school—at least not openly gay. But Brent Van Camp (Paul Iacono) plans to change all that by coming out and using the most popular girls in school to launch him to the top as Prom King. What ensues is a pop culture-infused meta comedy with Game of Thrones manipulation. (read more)

Floating Skyscrapers

For fifteen years, Kuba (Mateusz Banasiuk) has been training to be a champion swimmer. When not at the gym or in the pool, he spends his time sexing his girlfriend Sylwia (Marta Nieradkiewicz) and dealing with his overbearing mother Ewa (Katarzyna Herman), who bares a disturbing resemblance to Norma Bates (for instance, she makes Kuba massage her shoulders while she’s in the bath—with him still nursing a Sylwia-inspired erection, no less). Out of a seeming boredom with the status quo, Kuba begins to be distracted by guys at the gym—even going to so far as to hook up with a guy who cruises him in the shower (although he freaks out about it leaves before he can finish). (read more)

Adult World

The protagonist of Adult World may be a familiar figure. She just graduated from college. She relies on her parents for money. She thinks she’s the greatest writer of her generation. No, this isn’t Hannah Horvath; this is Amy Anderson. But don’t worry, Adult World isn’t trying to be like Girls, it’s trying to be funny—and it’s highly successful at it, too. (read more)

Deep Powder

It’s the early 1980’s; and the Deep Powder Alpine Country Club is a secret society at the savvy and prestigious New England boarding school, Mount Ambrose. The teenage members of this club—easily resembling Gossip Girl characters—enjoy skiing (both kinds); and, once a year, one lucky member makes a drug run to Ecuador for some high-grade cocaine. Based on true events, Deep Powder follows the dramatic final year of this club and the resulting investigation into their illicit actions. (read more)

Hide Your Smiling Faces

2013 is shaping up to be the year of Kids with Guns (cue that Gorillaz song). From Mia Wasikowska toting a rifle in Stoker to those Disney darlings forcing James Franco to fellate a pistol in Spring Breakers, youth gun violence is percolating throughout pop culture. But Hide Your Smiling Faces isn’t a hedonistic look at violence; it’s a quiet contemplation of death through the eyes of children (with guns). (read more)

A Case of You

A Case of You is a romantic comedy for the 21^st century. When Sam (Justin Long) tries to woo the aloof girl at the coffee shop, Birdie (Evan Rachel Wood), he stalks her Facebook profile to transform himself into the man of her dreams. Such is the exact setup you would expect from a rom com, and A Case of You does not fail to meet the rote expectations of its genre. (read more)

Each chapter focuses on a different character, chronicling the family over a couple of decades. Some of the chapters are duds—I almost shut the book when I read  the dull chapter about the dad who flies, trying to escape his rut of a life. But some of them are highly engaging—young Giordana turns herself invisible and spies on those closest to her (including watching her brother have sex with their cousins’ babysitter). Amsterdam easily captures each character’s voice in his chapters, allowing you to get inside their thoughts. But what really keeps you engaged is trying to uncover what is going on with troubled child Alek (his chapter, the final one, definitely made up for what I disliked about the rest of the novel).

What the Family Needed is ofttimes too earnest to be enjoyable. The characters all want to be such good people. But Amsterdam’s tight, insightful prose makes up for all the forced poignancy. If you’re looking for a short, personal novel, then this one will suffice—especially if you’ve always wanted X-Men-like powers.

When Ben’s drunk driving accident brings shame on his family, he divorces himself from their lives and clocks in some time in jail. Having to work for the first time in nearly two decades, Helen struggles to find a job in a completely different market from what she’s used to (computers and social media are not her forte). And teenage Sara is just so disillusioned with her parents’ drama and inevitably falls for the rebellious boy at her new school.

Dee does a great job of starting with a—painfully—cliché premise and taking it to an interesting place. His insight into the character’s psyches is at times fascinating while also lending itself to the methodical style of John Grisham. Although Helen’s storyline goes into an interesting direction (involving a nuanced PR tactic of apologizing for wrongdoing), the rest of the characters fall flat. But as the novel moves into thriller territory, Pardons seems to lose its own identity.

Maybe in the hands of a different writer, these characters could’ve been more engaging. Tom Perrotta could’ve really brought them to life, I’m sure; and had Grisham actually written it, the climax would’ve been a lot more thrilling. Sadly, Pardons never quite reaches its potential; making it just another mediocre novel about American life.