The Name of the Wind, The Lonely Polygamist, and Freedom

More cerebral than Game of Thrones, more grown up than The Golden Compass, and with a protagonist with enough hubris to make Han Solo look modest, The Name of the Wind is transporting. And at 800-plus pages with a 1000 page sequel in The Wise Man's Fear, it will keep you busy for a week at the beach or for many delicious late-nights.

It tells the story of Kvothe, son of troupers Edma Ruh, prodigy archanist, and hapless lover, as he becomes Kvothe the Bloodless, building a reputation at the University and seeking to revenge his parent's brutal murders.

I recommend this one to fantasy nerds without exception or reservation. If you run more mainstream give it a try, but only if you're looking to commit some time.

I am telling you here and now: The Lonely Polygamist by Brady Udall is one of the greatest novels of the twenty-first century. And not because Sister Wives is hot right now. This is, quite simply, one of the funniest, most moving, most gorgeous books I've ever read, and it has been compared to Catch-22 by people who know. It does not serve to expose the strange lifestyles of the Mormon and polygamist. Rather, it paints its characters with deep sympathy and pathos.

And it is devastatingly, heart-rendingly funny.

This book is now at the top of my Must List. It is too good to miss, it will change you in the way that all great books change you, and please tell me once you've read it. Trust me, you'll want to talk about it.

I know, Freedom by Jonathan Franzen is no news. But hear me out on this one. I bought it when it came out, and it sat on my bookshelf for ages. But my best friend from high school, who freely admits that she rarely reads fiction, recommended it. I opened it on a Saturday and lost myself. And even though I read it in January, I think of it more regularly than any other book I read this year.

It is so devastatingly incisive about modern life, so vividly written, so horribly funny. And the characters are despicable. If you're not particularly interested in dwelling for 1000 pages in the way literature can reveal sometimes-painful truths about ourselves and the way we live, skip it. But if you want a read that will make you feel something, that will challenge you, and yes, possibly depress you for a while, this is perfect.