Fans pick 100 books like All's Well

I love The Yoga Effect because it is based on the cutting-edge findings of NIH-funded studies at Boston University School of Medicine and shares poses and breathing techniques that are proven to help the body and mind release fear, worry, and sadness. Not dissimilar to my book, The Yoga Effect offers a customizable prescription for maintaining centeredness, confidence, and balance with short, well-rounded practices that include breath work, visualizations, and clear explanations of how yoga contributes to emotional wellness.

Any author who voluntarily has his nose packed and totally obstructed for over a week attracts my awe as one who is committed to walking the walk of his subject.

Nestor’s descriptions of this experience and the immense joy he encounters when his nasal airways were unblocked and his sense of smell restored sets the stage for an engaging tour through the science and art of a vital bodily function that we mostly ignore—respiration.

He posits that humans have been ignoring breath for centuries at our detriment and which accounts for sleep apnea, snoring, asthma, and autoimmune diseases. He poses means of relief. What a fresh breath.    

Initially published in 1990, this book stands the test of time. Anatomy of Movement Exercises describes the body mechanics inherent in our functional and daily movements. The illustrations and explanations are very clear and the author's understanding of anatomy, physiology, and movement is astonishing. This book is perfect for anybody with a movement practice who wishes to better understand exactly what is going on as they move.

Mudras is the only book you will ever need if you want to explore using a mudra practice, which I highly recommend. Mudras describes the physical, energetic, psycho-emotional, and spiritual properties of over 100 mudras and explains how they are performed and their mind/body effects. Mudra practice is a great addition to a breath and meditation practice and this book is a treasure trove of the inner workings of mudras.

Pictures from an Institution, to my mind, is the best novel written by a poet. It’s comical, biting, engrossing, moving, and flat-out entertaining. Once again, we are back in academia, at a woman’s college based loosely on Sarah Lawrence, and never has academia been skewered more amusingly. Regarding the college, one character muses, “You Americans do not rear children, you incite them; you give them food and shelter and applause.” The novel’s jokes—aphorisms, wisecracks, putdowns—come so fast and furious one could lose track of the story, if the story itself were not so interesting…and jovial. It’s funnier than throwing a hardboiled egg into an electric fan. Pictures from an Institution is also learned and wise and, underneath the drollery, there is a basic humanism that does not allow you to dismiss the book as mere satire.

I truly believe Kiley Reid is a national treasure. Her second book centers around a small southern college town, and as someone who attended one of those myself, I can tell you that it perfectly captures that spirit. Even though the book is more character study than plot-forward, the southern sorority girls, the writing professor, and the overworked RA all come together to make an absolute mess in the end.

Effortlessly weaving multiple narrators and storylines together, this book is everything I want satire to be. Each character is rich and fully realized, often dabbling in doing “bad” things but never making you quite dislike them. I can’t remember the last time I had this much fun watching everything go tits up.

Scarlett Clark is a bi serial killer who kills bad men. Carly Schiller is a queer student who just escaped an abusive father. Their storylines are equally gripping, with moments of unexpected intensity in both lust and fear. Layne Fargo creates a world so grounded in reality that, as a woman, it was painful to read at times—micro-aggressions, normalized inappropriate touching. Fargo doesn’t exaggerate it, she just exposes it as part of the narrative. Better yet, she gives a glimmer of equalization in the form of Scarlett who focuses her urge to kill in a direction that’s easy to root for, to want to read. It was wanting a serial killer to go on with her work that made this book and Scarlett a standout.

Having loved Allende’s previous novels, this tale of history and suspense took me into the magical worlds of South American culture, to gain a better understanding of what the immigrant experience is really like for other people. Redacting from a reviewer’s comment, “this story filled with Allende's signature lyricism and ingenious plotting, teaches us what it means to respect, protect, and love.”

I’ve always thought bleached bones are beautiful (there’s a cow skull on the window seat behind me), but imagine my surprise when I fell in love with a walking, talking, wise-cracking human skeleton. That’s what happened when I read this book.

Sid, the skeleton in question, is the literal skeleton in Georgia Thackery’s family closet. She’s known him since she was a child. Neither of them knows why he’s still “alive” or how he died.

I’m jealous because Georgia has a skeleton for a best friend. They make up for that, though, by being a very funny pair of amateur detectives. And lucky for me, they appear in five more books and a short story. 

In its early decades, from the 1880s to the 1930s, Wellesley College boasted not merely a woman president but—alone among the “Seven Sisters”—an exclusively female faculty. Palmieri examines the impact of an all-woman community on the college’s students, professors, traditions, and development. A model exploration of campus culture, highly original, and a fascinating read.