Musicologist and opium smoker Franz Ritter has insomnia, due in part to worry over an illness for which his doctor has sent him to "a specialist in exotic infections." As Compass, Mathias Énard's Prix Goncourt-winning novel, begins, Franz listens to "the rhythm of the trams descending towards the Schottentor" from his Vienna apartment, and reads an article his friend Sarah, a scholar and his former lover, has written about an Iranian novelist who died impoverished in Paris. For the remainder of that long night--and the bulk of this dense and challenging novel--Franz recalls his and Sarah's travels throughout Iran and Syria. They grew fascinated with artists influenced by the East--Balzac and Proust, and composers like Félicien David, "the foremost Orientalist musician, forgotten like all those who have devoted themselves body and soul to the ties between East and West."

Compass is not so much a traditional narrative as a series of essays on politics, music and literature, and on the ways in which Western artists have incorporated the achievements of their Eastern counterparts into their works--artists for whom the compass pointed east. Énard's tone is erudite without being stuffy. And he has an endearing wit: Franz says that the specialist his doctor sent him to looks like the German poet Gottfried Benn, a resemblance that prompts an already worried Franz to state that "being auscultated by the author of Morgue and Flesh doesn't inspire a whole lot of confidence in you." --Michael Magras, freelance book reviewer

Violet is on a blissful vacation with her happy family--or so she thinks. When she leaves the beach to rouse her son from his afternoon nap, she finds that her little one has vanished, along with her seemingly perfect husband, Finn. Her belongings are just as she left them, but her husband's luggage, their toddler's toys and the rental car are gone, almost as if they'd never been there at all.

So begins Almost Missed You, a novel about tragic departures, missed connections and the secrets we keep from others and ourselves. This debut from Jessica Strawser (editorial director of Writer's Digest magazine) is fast-paced and suspenseful, divided into chapters from the perspectives of Violet, Finn and their mutual friend Caitlin. The narrative, jumping through time from the day that Violet met Finn to their present-day catastrophe, serves the story well, unspooling scenes that are as moving as they are surprising. As Finn draws Caitlin into his deception, complicated questions of guilt, loyalty and love entangle the characters further, and long-kept secrets begin to surface.

Strawser cleverly explores the rich landscapes of motherhood and marriage in a novel that will keep readers engaged as they put the pieces of the story together alongside the characters. Improbable coincidences abound, and though they might be unlikely, their consequences are often gratifying and surprising. Book clubs are sure to enjoy Almost Missed You, as will readers who like a little tension with their domestic drama. --Richael Best, bookseller, Elliott Bay Book Company, Seattle, Wash.

Readers of Regency romances or FBI thrillers are sure to love A Twist in Time by Julie McElwain, an inventive mix of the two genres. The year is 1815, and Agent Kendra Donovan is inexplicably trapped in England, instead of 21st-century Washington, D.C., where she belongs. Kendra tumbled through a time slip (in A Murder in Time) that has left her stranded in a world of fancy ball gowns and prim and proper society matrons--definitely not women trained in tracking serial killers.

But when Lady Dover--former mistress of the Duke of Aldridge's nephew Alec--is found brutally murdered and mutilated, and Alec comes under suspicion, Kendra must put her investigative skills to work to clear the young man's name.

She becomes frustrated by a society that treats women as second-class citizens, and which only accepts her oddities because the Duke is her patron. But in order to catch a cunning killer, Kendra must learn to adapt to some of the mores that chafe her.

Full of intrigue and passion alike, A Twist in Time is a delightful mix of genres. The blend of romance (like that of Sarah MacLean) and slightly grisly mysteries (like those of Kathy Reichs) makes Julie McElwain's novel hard to categorize. Nevertheless, with its rapid pacing, slew of interesting characters and time travel, A Twist in Time is riveting. Anyone who enjoys the unusual is sure to enjoy Agent Kendra Donovan's adventures. --Jessica Howard, blogger at Quirky Bookworm

If traveling to New York City to take a culinary class isn't possible, picking up The Haven's Kitchen Cooking School: Recipes and Inspiration to Build a Lifetime of Confidence in the Kitchen by Alison Cayne is the next best thing. Cayne, owner of the wildly popular cooking school, has written a "modern-day equivalent of how people have learned to cook for centuries... watching, practicing, and making (and correcting) mistakes."

The cookbook opens with the basics, including knife skills, necessary tools and equipment, and must-haves in the pantry and refrigerator. From there, it's arranged around key concepts (like mise en place) taught through recipes. Cayne clearly and succinctly explains each concept, highlighting necessary tools before moving into a teaching recipe. In the chapter on soups, she uses the recipe for a ribollita--built from a basic foundation and gradually adding ingredients to create layers of flavor. More complex recipes follow; Cayne's philosophy is that "anyone can cook, they just need to build confidence through practice." The chapter on eggs is "a lesson in timing and temperature." From a simple omelet all the way to a soufflé, she calmly leads the home cook toward self-assurance. 

Ample color photographs are included, and the layout is clean and minimalist, with room on each page for making notes. Cayne's voice is calm, cheerful and pragmatic. She doesn't demand one standard practice, instead teaching the fundamentals and then encouraging exploration and creativity. --Cindy Pauldine, bookseller, the river's end bookstore

April 2017 marks the centennial of the United States' entry into World War I. In 1917, after attempting to keep the country neutral for more than two years, Woodrow Wilson asked Congress to declare war against Germany. Public opinion had already turned against Germany since the invasion of Belgium in 1914 and the sinking of the Lusitania in 1915. But the Zimmerman telegram, in which Germany secretly tried to goad Mexico into attacking the United States, along with unrestricted submarine warfare in the North Atlantic, finally pushed the nation to war.

General John Pershing (1860-1948), who was stationed in Texas when the war began, received command of the American Expeditionary Forces. He had recently led a punitive expedition in Mexico to kill or capture Pancho Villa. During this period, Pershing had suffered a catastrophic personal tragedy that would shape the rest of his life: his wife and three young daughters were killed in a house fire; only his six-year-old son survived.

Pershing worked tirelessly as commander of the AEF in France, in part to keep his personal demons at bay. He came across as overly stern or wooden, all while having a passionate affair with a French painter less than half his age. In My Fellow Soldiers, Andrew Carroll (War Letters) captures the many sides of this seemingly stoic figure, partially through newly discovered personal letters. Carroll, founder of the Legacy Project, which seeks to preserve wartime correspondence, also includes the experiences of other American combatants such as Quentin Roosevelt, Harry Truman, regular doughboys and female nurses. These elements combine for a fascinating and timely history. --Tobias Mutter, freelance reviewer

In naming his work Letters to a Young Writer, novelist Colum McCann (Thirteen Ways of Looking) invites comparison with Rainer Maria Rilke's classic Letters to a Young Poet. In fact, McCann insists on the comparison in his first sentence, quoting Rilke: "Nobody can advise you and help you, nobody." It is a disclaimer that McCann echoes throughout the book.

He draws on his experience teaching in the MFA program at Hunter College in New York, but Letters to a Young Writer is not a how-to book for novelists. In fact, when McCann offers a concrete piece of advice about building a writing career, it often runs contrary to the standard counsel offered in such books--contacting an agent about a novel you haven't yet written, for example. The book is a series of prose poems dedicated to kindling, or perhaps re-kindling, the spark that keeps writers writing. His prose style is emphatic, hovering on the edge of turning into a rant. He proclaims that there are no rules, offers passionately held opinions in their place, and then tells his reader to burn the letter, forget the advice and go write.

Perhaps the most useful insight that he gives is that "you must be prepared to hold two or more opposing ideas in the palms of your hands at the exact same time." It's a skill that he demonstrates in essay after essay. (The second most useful suggestion is "Don't be a dick.")

Writers, young and not-so-young, will find Letters to a Young Writer a source of inspiration. --Pamela Toler, blogging at History in the Margins

Cycling is more than a pleasant hobby: it has the potential to revolutionize the infrastructure, air quality and public health of the world's cities. Avid cyclist Peter Walker (who lives and rides in London) is on a mission to bring bikes back to urban areas--not to flood the streets with Lycra-wearing fanatics, but to introduce more people to the joys of life seen from a bicycle seat. A former courier who now runs the Guardian bike blog, Walker explores how governments can make the roads safer for cyclists--and how nearly anyone can benefit from hopping on a bike--in his aptly named first book, How Cycling Can Save the World.

Walker begins his journey in cities such as Utrecht and Copenhagen, where cycling is unremarkable, except to visitors. The vibrant cultures of these and other bike-friendly cities didn't happen by accident: Walker recounts years of infrastructure changes and political battles, interviewing public figures who have championed cycling in places such as London and New York. He also emphasizes other benefits of life on a bike: better health, knowing and appreciating one's neighborhood, fewer car emissions (and costs).

Although Walker acknowledges hazards (including hostile drivers and traffic accidents), his overall tone, like his title, is positive. "At the risk of sounding borderline messianic, cycling makes your life better," he says. Packed with thoughtful research and inspiring anecdotes, How Cycling Can Save the World inspires readers to take to the streets on two wheels. --Katie Noah Gibson, blogger at Cakes, Tea and Dreams

"Given that I am both female and Jewish, feeling bad was an ubiquitous part of growing up," writes Orli Auslander in the introduction to her collection of 100 sketches that cover her nearly 20 years of cognitive behavioral therapy. She deciphers many of the circumstances that have made her feel bad. Each black-and-white page conveys an observant, no-holds-barred, self-critical quality that depicts Auslander's innermost thoughts. Her work bears similarities to Allie Brosh's anxiety while succumbing to the woe-is-me musings of Harvey Pekar or Daniel Clowes. Some of her sketches cover issues of identity, some document the internal struggles of parenthood (I Feel Bad #3: I transfer my fears [to her children] and I Feel Bad #32: My kids barely know they're Jewish) and the generational battles waged within immigrant families (I Feel Bad #11: I failed my father and #12: My father failed me). Some address the hypocrisy of Auslander's own actions: I Feel Bad #31: I don't give enough, as she dumps a few pieces of change into a panhandler's cup while bedecked in designer duds, and I Feel Bad #4: I'm irresponsible, in which she texts while driving, nearly running down a pedestrian. Some seek connection while others beg for solitude. As Auslander resigns herself to misery, she also recognizes her "long dormant sweet and tender rational side" that battles to be heard.

She never thought she could share something so personal with strangers, nor did she feel that strangers would understand, but the intimate nature of these sketches speaks to the core of what it means to be a modern-day woman. --Nancy Powell, freelance writer and technical consultant

"Right before my sister, Zany, steals our dead mother off the mantel, I'm trying to decide which sock to stuff in Haberdashery's mouth to shut him up."

Following this zinger of a first sentence, Ashes to Asheville takes the ball (or urn, in this case) and keeps on running. Twelve-year-old Fella and her 16-year-old sister, Zany, had a normal, loving family in Asheville, N.C., with their birth mothers Mama Lacy (Fella) and Mama Shannon (Zany). But then Mama Lacy developed cancer and the family moved to West Virginia to be closer to the girls' grandparents, even though Mrs. Madison, Mama Lacy's straight-laced mother, never approved of " 'that woman' Mama Lacy took up with." In the grieving "craziness" that follows Mama Lacy's death, Mrs. Madison gains custody of Fella, taking her away from Zany and Mama Shannon. Mrs. Madison also gains custody of the urn with her daughter's remains, in spite of the fact that Mama Lacy wanted her ashes spread near the family's old Asheville home. Willful Zany decides it's up to her to carry out their mother's wishes... in the middle of the night... in a car borrowed from a sleeping Mama Shannon. What follows is a nightlong escapade of epic proportions, populated by a reluctantly useful thief named Adam, a yapping stowaway dog called Haberdashery, and a whole lot of Mountain Dew and coffee.

In her exquisite, poignant novel, Sarah Dooley (Free Verse; Body of Water) explores the strange places grief takes people when, as in Fella's case, they have to learn "how to accept that somebody could die and be gone when I wasn't finished loving them yet." --Emilie Coulter, freelance writer and editor