May Reads, Moving Boxes, and a Little Literary Magic

May is a lot, isn't it? Caps and gowns flying, mothers being celebrated, flowers staging their annual comeback tour, and somewhere in the middle of all that seasonal glory, my husband and I decided to move.

Now, before you picture a chaotic cross-country odyssey, let me clarify: it was across town. Yet, if you had witnessed the sheer volume of bubble wrap, the philosophical debates over which boxes were actually labeled correctly, and the moment I stood in the middle of our kitchen wondering how we had accumulated this much junk, you would have sworn we were relocating to another continent. Or another dimension. I am no spring chicken when it comes to moving—this was not my first rodeo—but I am here to tell you that no amount of experience makes it graceful. It just makes you faster at crying and then getting back to unpacking.

But here's what saved me: books. (Obviously. Did you expect me to say something else?)

In between hauling boxes and negotiating with my husband about whether we really needed to keep that lamp, I read eight absolutely wonderful books in May. Eight. And what I love most about this particular stack is how wildly different they are from one another. We've got a simmering psychological thriller, a sweeping historical novel, a tender family saga, sharp Southern humor, a devastating literary masterpiece, and stories that will make you laugh, ugly cry, and stare at the ceiling at 2 a.m. rethinking everything. It's the kind of reading month that feels almost curated—like May itself handed me exactly what I needed.

Whether you're in full graduation-season chaos, planning a vacation, or just looking for your next great read while spring finally does its gorgeous thing outside your window, I've got you covered. Pull up a chair. Let's talk books.

The Calamity Club by Kathryn Stockett

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ — 9 Stars
Kathryn Stockett (The Help) has been away for a while, and this book is a triumphant return—funny, sharp, and full of the kind of female friendships that feel like both a lifeline and a controlled explosion. The Calamity Club follows a group of women in the Deep South who form an unlikely alliance after their lives each take a dramatic turn, and the chaos—and grace—that follows. It's the book you'll be pressing into everyone's hands by the last chapter. Read my full review here.

Mad Mabel by Sally Hepworth

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐— 9 Stars
I loved every minute I spent with Mabel—she's prickly, misunderstood, and far sharper than anyone gives her credit for, which makes watching her come into her own deeply satisfying. There’s something quietly triumphant about a character who’s been dismissed her whole life finally refusing to shrink.

Mad Mabel follows an octogenarian woman long labeled “mad” by both her family and her community—a reputation that says more about them than it ever did about her. As circumstances push Mabel out of the margins, she begins to forge unexpected connections and, piece by piece, builds a kind of found family that sees her clearly for the first time. It’s a story about reclaiming identity, late-in-life reinvention, and the power of being truly known. Read the full review here.

Hope Rises by David Baldacci

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ — 8 Stars
I loved Baldacci's Nash Falls, so I couldn't wait to get my hands on this book, the second in the Walter Nash series. There’s something especially satisfying about settling into the second book of a series when the groundwork is already laid, and Baldacci takes full advantage of that momentum here.

Hope Rises continues Nash’s story as the high-stakes investigation pulls him back in and tests both his instincts and his newly developed identity. As the case deepens, so does our understanding of who he is and what he’s carrying, with threads from the first book adding weight and urgency to every decision he makes. It’s a fast-paced, character-driven continuation that rewards readers who are invested in the series. Baldacci delivers exactly what you come to him for—a propulsive, smartly plotted thriller that doesn't let you breathe until the last page.

Skylark by Paula McLain

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ — 8 Stars
Skylark unfolds across two timelines set in Paris—one during the turbulence of World War II and the other in 1664, during the height of the city’s early modern transformation. Through these parallel narratives, McLain weaves together the lives of people separated by centuries but connected by place, circumstance, and the quiet forces that shape their destinies.

I learned a lot about the tunnels underneath Paris and the rich history behind them. This is a great historical fiction read, and if you loved McLain's The Paris Wife, you'll love this one too. Read my full review here.

Enormous Wings by Laurie Frankel

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ ⭐⭐— 9 Stars
What if the most disruptive thing that could happen to a 77-year-old woman actually happened? Not a fall. Not a diagnosis. A pregnancy.

Here's what makes Enormous Wings impossible to put down: Laurie Frankel isn't writing a political treatise—she's writing about a person. A woman who already raised her kids has already given up her driver's license and has already surrendered more control than she ever wanted to. And now this. The anger you'll feel on Pepper's behalf is real and earned. But so is the laughter—and yes, there is plenty of laughter. Think Gilmore Girls wit wrapped around a story that will make you think hard about autonomy, aging, and what it truly means to choose your own life.

Bold, funny, gutsy, and quietly devastating—this one stays with you. Read the full review here.

John of John by Douglas Stuart

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ — 9 Stars
Douglas Stuart wrote Shuggie Bain, which won the Booker Prize and broke approximately one million hearts, so you already know this man does not come to play. John of John is raw, aching, and achingly beautiful—a story of a father, a son, and a grandmother in working-class Scotland, exploring masculinity, loyalty, and the love that never quite gets spoken aloud. It's not an easy read, but it is an unforgettable one. Read my full review here.

Looking for Salvation at the Dairy Queen by Susan Gilmore

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ ⭐— 9 Stars
This book made me laugh out loud more than once, which is frankly what I needed during a month that involved moving boxes and existential dread. Looking for Salvation at the Dairy Queen follows a young woman in a small Southern town who dreams of a bigger life—and the hilarious, heartfelt journey she takes to figure out what that actually means. It's charming and funny with just enough depth to sneak up on you emotionally. Read my full review here.

The Things We Never Say by Elizabeth Strout

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ — 9 Stars
Elizabeth Strout writes sentences that feel like someone cracked a window open in a stuffy room—just a few words and suddenly you can breathe differently. The Things We Never Say is a quiet, devastating exploration of the silence between people who love each other and are daily coping with the current political chaos in the United States. It is set in a small New England town. If you've ever had something important go unsaid with someone you love, or if you doubt your own sanity in an insane world, this book will find you. Read the full review here.

And now that the boxes are mostly unpacked (or at least strategically ignored), I’ve been thinking about how perfectly these books mirrored the chaos of May. Because isn’t that what a move really is? A disruption. A reckoning. A quiet (or not-so-quiet) reshuffling of what we carry forward and what we finally let go of.

Some of these stories felt like that—characters starting over, holding on too tightly, or realizing, sometimes painfully, that life doesn’t wait for you to feel ready. Others were pure escape, the kind you cling to when you’re surrounded by half-empty coffee mugs and a suspicious number of cords that apparently belong to nothing.

And maybe that’s why this reading month felt so special. It wasn’t just about the variety—though I’ll never say no to a stack that jumps from Southern charm to literary heartbreak to pulse-quickening suspense. It was about timing. These books met me right in the middle of the mess and reminded me why I always, always make space for reading… even when there’s nowhere left to sit.

So if your May looked anything like mine—full of change, a little overwhelming, and just this side of unhinged—consider this your permission slip to pick up one of these and disappear for a while. The boxes can wait. The story can’t.