TREAT THEM AS BUFFALO – Blair Palmer Yoxall

“He’s the heaviest secret I ever carried. I don’t want to carry him no more.”

This is a difficult review, because I was so looking forward to Blair Palmer Yoxall’s debut Treat Them as Buffalo (Algonquin Books of Chapel Hill 2026 – fun fact, I interned at Algonquin over 20 years ago. My duties included reading through the slush pile and sending rejections); however, this historical fiction / anti-Western set in 1885 in what is now Saskatchewan and told from the POV of Nikosis “Niko” Eriksen, a 12-year-old Métis boy, just missed the mark for me.

The novel echoes Django Unchained, another revisionist western, byincorporating modern slang (this didn’t work for me at all – I’m not sure if it wasn’t done well enough that it was clearly intentional, or I just didn’t like it) and using hyper-stylized violence to expose the systemic racism faced by the Métis people. That combined with the use of mythology (Odin is our villain) and the importance of our stories all give it this vibe that makes me wonder if it would not be better suited for the screen.

The novel opens with Niko and his cousin, Cousin, pretending to be buffalo hunters. (They’ve never even tasted buffalo meat.) Cousin is kidnapped. Cousin ends up being one of several young boys who have been taken and castrated for a bounty.  (This castration for a bounty seems a fictional component, but forced sterilization of Métis youth was a common practice that went on for decades under provincial eugenics laws and history should never forget.) The police seem questionable in their interest in the kidnappings. (Also questionable but for different reasons is Father Brisson.) Kate McCannon, a woman with a sawn-off shotgun and a reputation, heads up a group made primarily of women and children to recover the boys. The so-called “Pussy Posse” is a branch of a larger vigilante group in Deadwood.

It’s definitely a punch to the face kind of novel.

CHILDREN OF THE WILD – Kevin Powers

Based on the premise and the reviews, I thought I was sure to enjoy Kevin Powers’s Children of the Wild (Harper 2026). Color me wrong. I was so disappointed in this book.  And quite honestly mad at myself for finishing it.  But where did it go wrong? Historical fiction set in 1917, isolated rural valley in VA, a bit of a love triangle between the minister’s daughter, the son of the prominent Young family, and the wild boy found up on the mountain. And WWI.  I should have eaten this one up, but it simply failed to deliver. Based on reviews, this is not a popular opinion – but here we are.

Let’s start with the minister’s daughter, Sam. She’s never fully developed. Her character shimmers and shifts, never fully deciding what it wants to be. This doesn’t seem intentional, and she seems more like a plot device than a formed character. Despite this, she has her own sections.

Then there’s Roy, the heir apparent to the Young family farm. He also shimmers and shifts, his character changing not from the things that happen to him or the situations he finds himself in but when the plot needs him to change to advance itself. He’ll punch someone and then two lines later, they’re best friends. He’ll say hateful things to his father and then be a voice of reason. There’s no growth in his character.

And then Ennis, the more interesting of the three. Ennis had the most potential, but the feral wild child from the mountains whose family was likely killed in a flood and whose name is likely not even Ennis never gets the story he deserves.

There are so many missed opportunities with all three of these “children” as they fight for their country, the valley, and each other.  And there are also so many unnecessary and underdeveloped plot points.  It reads like a skeleton that hasn’t been fully fleshed out and clothed yet.

I was so annoyed.

MARE – Emily Haworth-Booth

“When I began it, I saw that the story didn’t begin with her at all, but further back. I decided to begin it, for now, with the dog.”

“And the dog died, and all my stories with him…”

Emily Haworth-Booth’s Mare (Farrar, Straus and Giroux 2026) is the type of book that will rip the skin of certain readers, each word another tiny cut; I’m still bleeding. It’s not about a horse – it’s about a woman who can’t do the single thing women are supposed to do. And if you’ve struggled with infertility, you’ll likely feel like Haworth-Booth found your deep, secret thoughts and took them horseback riding.

I am childless by circumstance not choice, like our narrator. I had two “not-my-daughters,” like our narrator. (And their abrupt departure from my life still stings, but that’s another story for another time.) And much like our narrator, I’ve put significant maternal energy into animals – often insisting on having more than one dog because I know just how rootless I would become should they be absent from me. And that’s how our novel opens, a childless woman whose dog has just died learning she will never have children. Haworth-Booth’s first novel is a knife –  that carries my reflection and blood along with countless others. Too personal. Too close. Too taboo a topic. Such fantastic writing on the things we don’t talk about. Such a tender and human take.

As mentioned, our narrator has just learned she can’t have children; her body has launched her into early menopause. Her dog has died. She revisits a childhood passion and enters into a horse “share” at a barn not far from her. The childhood passion quickly becomes an adult obsession – not with horses, but with that horse. An author of children’s books, she’s found she’s lost the words and the only purpose and meaning she has found is tied to this horse that belongs to someone else.  Meanwhile, her mom keeps forwarding her monthly blog entries from a woman writing about how freeing being childless is.  Fake it until you make it, right?

I don’t see both this and Our Numbered Bones on the longlist, but I could see one or the other. They are very similar in concept, quite different in delivery.  But both have excellent delivery that leaves a mark.

POOL HOUSE – Mary H.K. Choi

I’ve never read Mary H.K. Choi before, but it would seem her YA novels are well-loved. Pool House (Flatiron 2026) is her debut adult novel. It’s an extremely well-written novel, with a bit of a bite to the dialogue and characters that drew me in even though the plot isn’t one that would typically hold my attention. 

The novel alternates POV from 20-year-Stevie, her mother, Moon, and Adam. Moon is an out of work actress and she is struggling to afford the mortgage on their extravagant house. Her and Stevie have been using the home for short term rentals and sleeping in the pool house. Stevie has long-lived in the pull of her mother’s orbit, and she cannot shake it. When Mac, her mother’s on-again off-again situationship and sitcom husband, the only man who played any sort of paternal role in Stevie’s life, dies, Stevie and her mother are thrown together in their grief and confusion. Moon calls her sitcom son, Adam, who rushes to her side – he too longs for her orbit and pull – and Stevie’s jealousy rears its head. The three create an interesting triangle of conflicting and varied relationships; I didn’t like any of them all that much, but it was indeed a train wreck that I couldn’t look away from.

Choi’s writing is what makes this novel the success it is.

LAND – Maggie O’Farrell

“And when we die, we surrender our bodies to the earth and we become earth. It is the end of one story but the beginning of another.”

“So now she waits. She finds herself to be the woman in all stories, in all ballads and myths, waiting for her man to return – from battle, from sea, from mountain and, in her case, from forest.”

Maggie O’Farrell’s Land (Knopf 2026) is absolutely beautiful. Kissed with a bit of magic and folklore, the novel opens in 1865, with Liam, a ten-year-old boy, and his father, Tomas, working for the great Ordnance Survey project to map Ireland. Tomas is dedicated and focused, his maps will show the impact the Great Hunger had on the land. But something happens when they encounter a previously unmapped copse with a wellspring, and neither of them or the rest of their family will ever be the same.

A brief section of the novel goes back in time and provides the history of the copse and a foundation for the lore surrounding it. Brith’s father has gone missing. She finds his ring in a stream. A fish demands it back. She refuses. Brith’s subsequent tragedy brought me to tears. This is not the first novel I’ve read this Booker season with an ancient woman found preserved in the bog, but it is the first with an Irish Wolfhound. The connection with the dog, from Brith’s father to Brith, to Liam’s sisters with Bran, was one of my favorite ties to the land.

I mentioned while reading that Land reminded me of everything I loved about Maggie Shipstead’s Great Circle, which was my favorite of its Booker cycle, and I stand by that. Land starts and ends with a man of few words, but the stories the land tells are spread throughout.  I loved it, and I did add it to my Booker predictions. I didn’t want to remove any of the previous picks, but I did include it because this is a beautiful novel.

Read this book.

THE THINGS WE NEVER SAY – Elizabeth Strout

“A page had been turned. It was that quiet and that simple, but Artie – having almost died – no longer wanted to.”

Elizabeth Strout is a talented writer, I’d just previously decided I don’t really like her leading characters. To be fair, I’ve only read Oh William! and I said the following regarding it: The novel is well-written, and Lucy is wonderfully developed and complex as a character, I just didn’t like her. Imagine getting seated next to an older woman, one who is slightly drunk and sad, on a long flight. It’s fun for a bit, but by the time you land you just want to give her your therapist’s number.  I’m pretty sure Strout recognized there may be a low threshold for tolerating Lucy – the novel is only 237 pages.

The Things we Never Say (Random House 2026) is getting a lot of buzz, and while I enjoyed Artie significantly more than Lucy, I was grateful the novel barely reached 200 pages. This novel is sad.  I mean profoundly sad. Not sad in that attention-grabbing way, but a slow growing, deep-seated sadness that cloaks you by the last page. And it’s sad because you’ll like Artie.  (And you’ll hate his wife.)

It’s hard to get away from politics and Covid in American fiction these days, and this novel is no exception. While a significant part of the sadness comes from political turmoil, this isn’t a political novel – it’s a life novel. And that life is sad because of, and this isn’t a spoiler, the things [they] never say.

Strout’s writing is phenomenal, and her sheer talent is why I gave the book 4 stars.  It wasn’t the plot or the characters, but how much emotion she rendered in well-developed characters a very short book.  This is the case of an excellent novel by a fantastic author that falls short only because of the reader.

*It’s a bit cheeky, but I like that one of Strout’s prior novels shows up in her new novel.

RASPUTIN SWIMS THE POTOMAC – Ben Fountain

Ben Fountain is a born, bred and dead Carolina kid. (I’ll ignore the Duke years.) While he spent much of his legal career in Texas, he was born and raised in NC, educated at Carolina, and now lives in NC. And he’s written one helluva political satire in Rasputin Swims the Potomac (Flatiron 2026). I’m going to be honest – this would have been five stars if I’d been a bit further removed from the storyline; one might say “too soon” when it comes to its humor as the daily news seemed a continuation of the fictional novel I was reading.

The premise?  The Supreme Court has just handed down a decision that allows President ____ to run for a third term. (All names for the presidential family are redacted, but we all know.) Marjorie Taylor Green is his current VP, but he’s looking for someone new. Enter Rasputin, a wrestler who has legally changed his name to his stage name and believes he is *the* Rasputin. You know, the one assassinated in 1916 due to his political influence. Rasputin seems to have a calming effect over people, and he’s a magnetic personality. There’s a “weeping” sickness overtaking the country, and Rasputin seems able to cure a person with a brief touch and murmured words. The president thinks this figure will make an excellent VP choice.  Enter Clarence Thomas.  No, not that one.  A reporter.  Clarence uncovers a money trail that shows Rasputin has backing to run against the current president. The two enigmatic figures are pitted against each other, and there are rumors about the First Lady and the wrestler’s relationship.  There’s also Faith, a White House staffer – a former star from a country music reality TV show whose father is top secret. Faith is experiencing her own anxiety, her world seeming to glitch – more so when she’s on her phone – and she seems to be having a crisis of faith.

The novel is told from varying view points, press releases, White House memos (the errors in these are intentional and hilarious), and newspaper articles. While the ending was not satisfying, I’m honestly not sure how this novel could have concluded. 

ALL THEM DOGS – Djamel White

A buzzy debut with some Booker-heavy blurbs, including from the first Booker prize winner to serve as chair of the award, Djamel White’s All Them Dogs (Riverhead Books 2026) has been on my radar for a bit. It’s one of two releases that I anticipated would end up on my predictions list and hoped to get it read before the announcement. Luckily my hold finally came in, and I devoured the slim novel. It’s officially been added to my predictions list.  (This year’s prediction list will be made only from books I have read.)

I had zero clue what this novel was about – I know the cover called to mind A Little Life, but that was about it. I was not expecting a gritty, bloody, tender, and heartbreaking gangster novel told in first person from the POV of Tony Ward, a young man who is back in Dublin after he’d fled five years ago following murdering a rival gang member. A lot has happened in five years, including the death of his mentor, the return of his half-brother, and his best friend going straight. Tony is a bit unmoored and also a bit “paro” – he is paranoid that he is being haunted and hunted by the young boy he’d killed. He wants to reestablish himself within a gang and get protection, so he becomes the enforcer for a local crime boss. There’s not a lot of protection offered, but there seems to be room for advancement.

He finds himself making ready friends with the crime boss’s daughter, Fanny, and step-son, Darren “Flute” Walsh. The way  White crafts this friendship with the grimy gangster backdrop that all three friends are actively involved in is what makes the novel so tender and real. Fanny is one of my favorite characters, and the dialogue between her and Tony, with their equally biting remarks, is just fantastic. I don’t think it’s a spoiler since the cover talks about it, but Tony and Darren become violently and intimately involved.

Is this Shuggie Bain meets Wild Houses?

All them Dogs is gritty and dirty – it doesn’t shine a light on a seedy underbelly so much as drag you along as an accomplice. But where it excels is in the writing and in the tender, fragile moments that spark throughout.  A large man unfolding himself from a small car and the ensuing laughter, a boy who used to want to go into fashion design, a Christmas gift with snowman wrapping paper, the smell of sausage on Christmas morning. Tony’s just a kid, and those reminders, shining from under the blood and grit and gunpowder, is why this novel makes my predictions list.

THE NIGHT WE MET- Abby Jimenez

As you’ll recall, while I don’t typically read genre/formula fiction, I’ll pick one up now and again as a bit of a palate cleanser. If I’m going romance, Abby Jimenez will typically fit the bill. The writing is sharp, the dialogue is typically great, hilarity often ensues, and there’s going to be a dog. Oh, and her stories have heart.

I was a bit let down by last year’s Say You’ll Remember Me, but I still preordered The Night We Met (Forever 2026). While the “best friend’s girl” trope usually gives me the ick, it did feel like the Jimenez I fell in love with  was back.  It’s not my favorite – Part of Your World and Yours Truly hold a special place in my heart – but it’s cheeky and full of heart, and I devoured it like a nut-free grazing board.  That said, Larissa and Chris both need therapy before they need each other.

The novel hits that Jimenez formula that she does so well.  Our leading lady is, as always, beautiful. Larissa is a drop-dead gorgeous waitress with a nut allergy who estranged father has racked up significant debt using her social security number and whose mother is dating another alcoholic loser in a string of alcoholic losers. She is barely scraping by and picks up little side-jobs here and there. She wants someone to take care of her.  Chris is always prepared and always-available-to-help-a-friend pharmacist who wants to help her.  There’s just one problem – she’s is dating Chris’s best friend, Mike.  Well, there are other problems (like Chris’s unhealthy desire to “help” stemming from the trauma behind his mother’s death and Mike’s blackout drunk anxiety lapses and Lexi in general), but the main obstacle here is that Chris and Larissa “belong together,” but she is with Mike.

There’s an unhinged Yorkie, modeled after Jimenez’s own infamous Magwai, that serves as the catalyst that keeps Chris and Larissa in daily contact. (If you’re not following Jimenez on social media, you really should. She’s hilarious.) Mike also keeps them in steady contact as he often begs Chris to serve as his stand-in when he’s too drunk.

As far as covers go, I do think this one is beautiful (love the colors and fireworks) BUT again, it doesn’t match the book.  I’d have liked to see a deer on the cover and a comical billboard, if anyone is asking.

GHALEN: A ROMANCE IN BLACK – Walter Mosley

The first half of Walter Mosley’s Ghalen: A Romance in Black (Amistad 2026) is achingly tender. The love story between Ghalen’s mismatched parents is just beautiful; Robert is neurodivergent with a slower, different view of life, and Jamilah, a brilliant med student, falls head over heels with how he sees her. They  meet at a farmer’s market during a rain storm, and it’s a beautiful love story. Unfortunately, many people, including Jamilah’s mother, don’t approve of or understand the match. Jamilah is a child genius and Jamilah’s mother (and others) believe Robert is not fully competent. I previously said it reminded me of Forrest Gump, and that comparison is still there.  It’s strongest in a particular scene where Robert expresses his concern that “what is wrong with him” would pass to his child.

I should have known not to get too attached to Jamilah and Robert; the book is titled after their son, afterall.  But I did, which made the second half harder to swallow.  As a head’s up, Ghalen is going to give you heartburn. He’s a child genius, much like his mother, but he also has his father’s way of seeing things and his own unique approach to life.  There are some rather interesting choices made, and the novel takes a much grittier turn after Ghalen graduates high school. 

The novel deals with the return of grandparents thought dead, police brutality, undocumented immigrants and human trafficking, drugs, youth incarceration, immigrants fleeing civil war, rage, traumatic brain injuries, cancer, mental health – you name it, it’s likely here.   But it also deals with found family, hope, love, choices, loyalty, and resilience.  I enjoyed the first half significantly more than the second, but this is still a solid read.