For audiences in search of a quick slender read, Eugene Lim's surreally quirky Search History is not it. The pre-prologue to the prologue opens as "A Warning to the Reader" with various cautions and enlightenments; 152 dense pages later, gratification awaits. The story features a late Korean American pianist-turned-gamer named Frank Exit and his drone aficionado narrator friend, who becomes convinced that a stranger's dog named Izzy (short for Izanami) is actually Frank's reincarnation. Curiosity begets theft; multiple chases ensue. The narrator and dog-Frank's owner, Donna, need answers, which will require finding Donna's widowed birthmother, who's trying to skyrocket to the moon. Meanwhile, narrative layers multiply, highlighting hybrid identity, Korean motherhood and all manner of relationships.

Interwoven into this elusive quest are ruminations on the literary--as compiled by "Cyborgian writing teams" programmed "to write An. Award. Winning. Book." Their dysthymic AI scientist-creator, who's also a Stanford-educated community college adjunct recently relegated to house sitting, is "aiming for a Pulitzer or an NBA shortlist but willing to settle for a PEN/Faulkner." And yet, a robot named César Aira is not a writer, neither is his ex-wife, Onoto Watanna. Maude Edith Eaton here is also not an author, although in real life, Otono (born Winnifred Eaton) and Maude (famous as Sui Sin Far) were Chinese British American sister writers.

Lim's labyrinthine imagination ably encapsulates his various identities as author, librarian and co-founder of micro-publisher Ellipsis Press. Existing fans might recognize Frank Exit from Lim's 2019 Dear Cyborgs--reading continuity, however, not required. Nothing will prove quite reliable here, which enhances Lim's clever, subversive appeal. --Terry Hong, Smithsonian BookDragon

Robert Seethaler's The Field gives concrete expression to the oft-spoken wish that the dead could talk. In a collection of brief reminiscences, he summons the voices of the inhabitants of the titular burial ground to offer a panoramic vista of life in the fictional small town of Paulstadt, through the memories that linger for some of these former residents after their earthly days have ended.

The land where these dead are buried "wasn't any use for grazing cattle, but it was good enough for the dead." Each day, an elderly man goes there to sit on a bench under a birch tree, "convinced that he could hear the dead talking," but somehow unable to "piece the fragments together so that they made sense." The Field's vignettes represent his imaginative re-creation of those cacophonous voices.

Seethaler's (The Tobacconist; A Whole Life) characters are, for the most part, a querulous lot, reflecting with regret, and often bitterness, on the fleeting moments of their lives. Nabil al-Bakri, who came to the town as a teenager, recounts the bigotry he faced as an immigrant. Susan Tessler recalls her friendship with Henriette, a fellow cancer patient dying in the local sanatorium: "For a long time I tried to tell myself that we don't die, we just leave this world. Death is just a word. But that's not true."

When it comes to life's end, "death holds the truth, but you're not allowed to tell it," cautions Annelie Lorbeer, the town's oldest resident, who lived to age 105. Until that changes, stimulating works like Seethaler's will have to fill the void. --Harvey Freedenberg, freelance reviewer

No One Will Miss Her by Kat Rosenfield beckons thrill-seeking crime fiction fans with a gruesome murder in the atmospheric New England town of Copper Falls. Rosenfield's fast-paced plot features sharp angles and multiple viewpoints, culminating in a series of dramatic, unforeseeable twists.

Lizzie Ouelette is known in her hometown as "the junkyard girl." Raised on her father's junkyard and derided by the town as a misfit, there's nothing wholesome about Lizzie's upbringing. A dark, ferocious cloud seems to follow her, even when she shocks the town by marrying high school baseball star Dwayne Cleaves.

But now Lizzie is dead, found shot at her lake cabin with her nose cut off and her body stuffed into the garbage disposal. Dwayne is missing and there's no sign of Adrienne and Ethan Richards, the wealthy Boston couple who rented the cabin from Lizzie. When homicide detective Ian Bird is assigned to the case, he realizes Ethan is the infamous financier whose fraudulent actions destroyed the life savings of many innocent people, including Bird's parents.

Rosenfield (Inland; Amelia Anne Is Dead and Gone) alternates between Lizzie's story, narrated from beyond the grave, and scenes that drive the plot mysteriously deeper, daring readers with tantalizing hints and glimpses of what initially appears as a straightforward crime. No One Will Miss Her is the successful YA novelist's adult debut. At first glance Lizzie and the sophisticated Adrienne appear to have little in common, but as the mystery unfolds, Rosenfield's urgent plot throws a truly ingenious curveball and leaves readers with a haunting vision of the future. --Shahina Piyarali, reviewer

In the sleepy suburb of Ivy Woods, life seems perfect--but beneath the façade, a tangled web of lies threatens to upend residents' way of life, and someone in the neighborhood knows all about it. The suspenseful, compulsively readable The Mother Next Door by Tara Laskowski (One Night Gone) centers on the weeks leading up to the area's legendary annual Halloween party--as well as the shocking truth behind a local ghost story that could have dire consequences for everyone involved.

When Theresa Pressley moves to the picturesque cul-de-sac after a lifetime of struggles, she feels like she's finally made it. She quickly befriends a tight-knit group of moms known as the Ivy Five, even though the clique is comprised of just four women--including Kendra McCaul, their delightfully sharp-tongued and overachieving leader. As Theresa begins to uncover what happened to the fifth member of the gang, she also discovers her own heartbreaking connection to a tragedy that occurred more than a decade ago.

Though certain characters' motives occasionally seem confusing or unclear, above all, Laskowski's thriller is extremely fun to read. Steeped in all the best parts of spooky season--lurking ghouls, grotesque decorations, ridiculous costumes--this atmospheric tale calls up trick-or-treat nostalgia, as well as the hard truth that behind every cheery childhood memory are hidden adult struggles. The snobby, exclusive Ivy Five will also feel familiar to anyone who ever attended high school, particularly the jealous yet fiercely loyal "Queen Bee" Kendra, who will do anything to hold on to her throne--perhaps even kill. --Angela Lutz, freelance reviewer

Erin Sterling, a pseudonym for Rachel Hawkins (The Wife Upstairs), delivers a pitch-perfect paranormal romantic comedy with The Ex Hex, a tale of magic gone awry and the rekindled love that follows in its destruction.

When Rhys Penhallow broke Vivienne Jones's heart, she in turn broke her aunt's cardinal rule ("Never mix vodka and witchcraft") in order to curse the heartless "Witch Boy." Of course, the curse wasn't real magic--or so Vivienne assumes, until an age-old tradition draws Rhys back to Vivienne's hometown of Graves Glen, Ga., and the typically straightforward task of recharging the magical ley lines beneath the town results in magic gone horribly wrong. Vivienne and Rhys are thrown back together to try to set their magic--and perhaps their relationship--back on track, as they make out in the spookiest of settings (the closet of a haunted house, for one) and battle unexpectedly dastardly, if also somewhat amusing, threats to Graves Glen (like a display of plastic skulls running loose in the Joneses' family witchcraft store).

The Ex Hex seamlessly blends fantasy and romance, with a strong sense of world-building and magical rules that guide Vivienne and Rhys's attempts to course-correct from the "accidental" curse, and an equally evident sense of attraction between these two witches. A bit of unexpected magic, a dose of revenge and a sprinkling of steaminess churn together in a humorous and heartfelt paranormal romance, sure to delight fans of Hocus Pocus and Practical Magic--or any contemporary tale of witches run amok. --Kerry McHugh, freelance writer

Anne Theroux's thoughtful, engaging memoir, The Year of the End, explores her separation from novelist Paul Theroux three decades after the fact. Using brief entries from the diary she kept during 1990 (the couple separated that January), Theroux revisits what was really happening behind and around the few sentences she wrote each day. Month by month, she explores her maelstrom of emotions ("My journey of loss was full of stops and starts," she writes); her coping mechanisms, including a trip to Egypt and sometimes drinking too much; and her gradual realization that her marriage was over for good.

Theroux brings a journalist's eye to her marriage, writing with keen insight about Paul's affairs and her own, her experiences with his American family, her career as a radio producer. She muses on several world events (Nelson Mandela's release from prison, Margaret Thatcher's fall from power), but mostly focuses on quotidian details: working in the garden, trying to find a new job. Throughout the book, she considers the difficulties of being married to a brilliant but often harsh novelist, and her struggle to carve out a new identity for herself after Paul left. In recounting her year of limbo and reflecting on their years together, she has created both a tribute to their marriage and a poignant exploration of how it felt to watch it disintegrate. Often melancholy and quietly candid, The Year of the End is a sensitive account of a woman stepping into a complicated new freedom. --Katie Noah Gibson, blogger at Cakes, Tea and Dreams

N. West Moss (The Subway Stops at Bryant Park) was accustomed to blood, yet clots soaking through pads and running down her legs came as a shock in her early 50s. "My uterus and I have been at odds for forever," she remarks, but this hemorrhage was so acute she drove herself to the ER. She needed an exploratory D&C, a cruel flashback to the failed pregnancies of her 40s. Soon she faced a total hysterectomy to remove a hemangioma. In Flesh & Blood, she tenderly traces the before and after of surgery and how she came to terms with childlessness.

While she doesn't shy away from medical details, Moss delves more into the emotional effects of her condition. "Being ill has made me meet the world with a more patient heart," she notes. It's a chance to slow down, reconnect with her mother, who supervises her convalescence, and appreciate the companions who get her through: her husband and cats, Claude the praying mantis and the memory of her beloved Grandma Hastings. Post-recovery, a month house-sitting in Holland tests her newfound confidence, while resuming her writing reminds her "there's more than one way to be fruitful."

The few-page chapters are warm slices of life. Moss leavens her losses with a sense of humor, as in a tongue-in-cheek list of questions for her surgeon ("Do you have a periscope?"). Realistic about illness's challenges and gifts, this memoir is recommended to readers of May Sarton. --Rebecca Foster, freelance reviewer, proofreader and blogger at Bookish Beck

Kyoko Hara entices young readers in this early reader with the charms of a concept with which they might be unfamiliar: letter writing. Hara's text, translated from the Japanese by Alexandrea Mallia, creates an enchanting epistolary friendship between a first-grade girl and a mysterious correspondent. The simple, realistic plot has a dash of magic that makes for a sweet tale of friendship.

Mayu is staying with her grandparents near a forest she finds especially enticing. From her own home high in an apartment building in the city, Mayu can just barely see the tops of the trees: "She smiled every time she imagined the forest." Now all she wants to do is go into the forest. And her first stroll rewards her with a grand discovery: "Placed in between two tree trunks was a box with writing on it that said, 'Mailbocks/ Please put letters in here. Everyone is welcome. From forest friend.' " Mayu begins to exchange letters through the box with a spelling-challenged pen pal named Konta. As their friendship develops, Mayu grows determined to discover exactly who this mysterious letter writer is.

Hara unearths the allure of letter writing for young readers who are likely to respond much as Mayu first does: "it's faster just to call you." Color and black-and-white illustrations from Kazue Takahashi accompany the narration, their childlike quality highlighting the innocence and wonder captured in Mayu's experiences. The Mailbox in the Forest is a cute story that can easily ignite positive discussions about new (or old) ideas. --Jen Forbus, freelancer

In the picture book biography Alicia Alonso Dances On, Cuban American author Rose Viña (Icebreaker) chronicles the life of the Cuban ballerina, who overcame incredible odds to achieve international renown. Mexican American artist Gloria Félix's lively illustrations heighten the story by highlighting Alonso's graceful, powerful form.

Alonso moved to New York City at 16, after spending her childhood learning to dance in tennis shoes. As she pursued a professional ballet career, her eyesight began to deteriorate and impede her performance. Despite multiple surgeries to repair her detached retinas and a year-long bedrest, Alonso became permanently partially blind. So Alonso learned to "dance through the darkness"--she earned the starring role in Giselle and eventually the rare title of prima ballerina assoluta.

In her thoughtful illustrations, Félix (Azaleah Lane series illustrator) draws parallels between Alonso's experiences as a child and as an adult. On one page, an eight-year-old Alonso grins when her crystal-clear reflection in the mirror "transforms into a ballerina" wearing a pink leotard and tutu. Later, a determined adult Alonso is shown wearing a pink leotard and squinting at her blurry image in the mirror as she stretches before practicing. In a stunning double-page spread, Félix depicts five different versions of Alonso dancing as an adult; though each image is in a different costume and stance, they work as one piece, making it look as if Alonso is leaping and twirling across the page. The illustrations' warm hues echo the story coming full circle: Alonso is shown teaching dance in Havana, smiling and looking beyond the book's borders, suggesting hope and progress. --Kieran Slattery, freelance reviewer, teacher, co-creator of Gender Inclusive Classrooms