The Other Bennet Sister by Janice Hadlow

This falls into the genre of fan fiction--It is not the retelling of Pride and Prejudice but rather an extention of that story. The novel explores the predicament of Mary, the overlooked middle daughter of the Bennet household. Mary doesn’t have a story of her own in Austen’s novel – she’s there to serve as a foil to her sisters’ charm, and a temporary obstacle to their happiness. Bookish and gauche, Mary is the one who can be relied on to give an ill-judged performance on the pianoforte or deliver a sententious comment at exactly the wrong moment. By the end of the novel her circumstances have changed, but she has not; she’s still just as plain and awkward as she ever was, but with her sisters variously settled elsewhere, she is at least not compared to them daily but she is not a woman of note either. In this version of the story Mary begins very much as Austen depicted her – plain, awkward, overlooked – but she is now our protagonist, the one we are supposed to be rooting for. As the great majority of us are not beautiful to look at or glittering company, we are predisposed to hope that her studiousness and loyalty will somehow eventually pay off. We come to understand what has made her the way she is. From girlhood, she has been mortified by her mother, who constantly evaluates her five daughters’ looks, and finds only Mary’s wanting. Her father, too, is a source of grief; she is desperate to be close to him, but he makes a pet of Lizzie, and only seems to speak to Mary – Hadlow is quoting Austen here – in put-downs. Her sisters exist in fixed pair-bonds: Jane-and-Lizzie, Kitty-and-Lydia; Mary is left to drift alone. Teased, belittled and criticised, it is no wonder she is so ill at ease; no wonder she blunders. I cringed a few times at Mary's missteps but mostly was rooting for her, and very much enjoyed once again being plunged into the world of Austen.

Retirement Plan (2025)

This short animated film is nominated for a 2026 Oscar, and maybe it is because I am actively thinking about my own retirement (I am aiming for 3 years from now) that it seemed so poignant. This is a devastating yet optimistic piece of storytelling. It’s funny, endearing, relatable and playful but it also has a fierce undercurrent of melancholy. In the throes of his overstimulated, energy poor midlife, Ray fantasizes about everything he'd love to do in retirement, once he finally has the time. It plays with the idea that we’re taught to postpone living until retirement, until we have more time but in reality, that day may never arrive. Retirement Plan reminds us to live in the now, to stop living through lists and start embracing each day as it comes. Twice things happened to teach me that you should not put off today the things you really want to do—the first is when my youngest son had a brain tumor and the second is when I was diagnosed with a poor prognosis cancer myself. I am blessed with a job that has a lot of vacation as well as a fair amount of work related travel, and I have been active about doing things now rather than putting them off. Even still, I can relate to this. Aside from the thought provoking, personal narrative. Retirement Plan is also a beautifully animated feature that showcases the simplicity and power of animation. Stripping back the shots, playing with minimal movements and relying on the impact of the storytelling made the sentiment all the more beautiful. Finally, if you take anything away from this tender-hearted story, remember to embrace every day of life, don’t wait.

Jane Austen's Bookshelf by Rebecca Romney

I, like the author, love Jane Austen. Unlike her, I know nothing about the world of rare books, and while I know only slightly more now than before I read this book, I have a better understanding of what draws people not just ot the book itself, but to those who read this exact volume before one picks it up. She asks the question about who might have influenced Austen and the answer is that there were quite a few women authors who wrote in the late 18th and early 19th century and who clearly Austen read because she mentions them by name in her letters to her siblings and in some cases because she has lifted things out of their books to make her own. It is a wonder someone hasn’t thought before to do a little detective work into the authors that influenced her: Ann Radcliffe, whose 1794 gothic thriller The Mysteries of Udolpho peppers every other conversation in Northanger Abbey; Elizabeth Inchbald, whose 1798 play Lovers’ Vows is rehearsed by the characters in Mansfield Park; and Frances Burney, whose third novel, Camilla (1796), originated the phrase “pride and prejudice”. The interesting thing is not that they exist but more that they have been largely forgotten. I was able to find their hallmark works through the Guttenberg project and in the Kindle library, and will uspdate later as I read through some of them, but this author thinks that they are worthy. In addition to the above, she found Fanny Burney’s Evelina to be bold and witty, Charlotte Lennox, whose The Female Quixote" is witty and smart, to Elizabeth Inchbald, whose concise and ironic style may have influenced Austen as well. It is great fun to read this.

It Was Just An Accident (2025)

This was submitted to the Academy for consideration for ‘Best International Feature Film’ by Tunisia, it is a film by an Iranian filmmaker about the repressive and violent Iranian regime. The movie opens with a couple and their child travelling home. They run over a dog, and while the child is very sorrowful about it, the parents shrug and say, “It was just an accident.” Several miles after the impact, their car breaks down outside a modest factory. An employee offers to fix their car while his co-worker Vahid (Vahid Mobasseri) talks on the phone in a backroom. Before he sees the driver, Vahid hears the shuffle and squeak of a prosthetic leg. His genial visage fades, and he sneaks around the corner to get a better look. From his vantage point, we only see the driver’s legs as he looks for a toolbox. When he asks for help, Vahid, hiding in another room, hooks his finger into his cheek to change his voice. Vahid believes this man is Eghbal, a former intelligence officer who tortured him years ago in prison. Vahid decides to act. He tracks the driver to a repair shop, hits him with his car, abducts him from the street, and drives out to the desert, where he digs a hole with the intent of burying him alive. When the man protests that he can’t be Peg Leg because his scars are recent, doubt creeps into Vahid’s mind. Does he actually have the right man? So, with Peg Leg in tow, he seeks out the opinions of others who he was imprisoned with, and that is the gist of the movie—the psychological damage inflicted cruelly and permanently by the torturer is explored in a surprisingly light hearted manner. I was dreading watching this, but very much enjoyed it.

The English Understand Wool by Helen Dewitt

Here is another recommendation from the Parnassus Friday vlog "If You Haven't Read It It Is New To You", where they veer off the usual bookseller path of selling you the latest and greatest and dig back into time past to highlight gems that were not much lauded or have been too soon forgotten. It is a novella, maybe even better described as a short story, about a young woman whom the world calls Marguerite. She thinks of herself by a different name, the name she was raised with, which she never tells us. In the novel’s opening pages, she describes a recent trip she took with her “Maman” to buy fabric for a suit, or, rather, a tailleur. The pair travelled from Marrakesh to the Outer Hebrides, then on to London, where they remained for six weeks (staying at Claridge’s) while the tailor made the garments. Since no one can be expected to go that long without practising an instrument, they had the television removed from their suite and an electronic piano install Marguerite’s story is immediately destabilizing; her existence sounds like the fantastic confection of someone with no real experience of everyday life. And it is, sort of, but not in ways the reader may initially think. This is a treatise on many things and a funny comment on them all. Don't miss it, it only takes a moment to read and it will leave you happy that you did.

Armed Only With A Camera (2025)

There is so much to care about in this documentary and so much tragedy to go along with it. Brent Renaud is a photo journalist who was purposely targeted and killed by the Russians in Ukraine. There is so much to dislike about Putin, Russia, and the soldiers fighting for things that do not belong to them, but that is not what this is about. This short documentary, which is nominated in that category for the 2026 Academy Awards, is more of a celebration of a photo journalist's life. The span of where he went, what he filmed, and how important the brave work that he accomplished in his too short life is what the film is about.We meet Brent Renaud as he trudges through a shallow, fast-moving river on the border of Guatemala and Mexico. He films a 16-year-old boy as he makes the arduous trek from his former home of Honduras to what he hopes is his future home, the United States. The boy says he has no parents and no future in Honduras, but believes the U.S. will be a place where he can build a new family and find some hope. That is another tragedy best left untalked about right now but the camera and the man behind it are so sympathetic to the underdog you can feel him routing for the boy when he has to part ways with him, and it is more than what he says. He survived many scary situations before he met his death, and I was left bereft when he was shot down. Much like Tim Featherington, who's full length documentary Restrepo, filmed when he was embedded with a U.S. platoon in Afghanistan, took us into one war before another war left him dead, it seems that the very best of them are heroes who show us what we are missing about the world and violence, but they too are so slow to it that more than a few of them get burned. This is worth every minute of time watching it.

Scrap Quilt Sensation by Katharine Guerriere

I really liked this book, which is focused on traditional quilt blocks that are done in a less traditional manner, and also very scrappy. She does a really nice job of describing and demonstrating he approach to design, and her quilts have a consistency between them and are decidedly different from another designers. The author has quilts that are dense in not just scraps but also using batiks rather than solids--which is often one color, different hues but not strictly reading like prints would. She does do a discussion of trying to figure out color, value, and hue, how to think about or deal with prints, and how she thinks about it when in the design phase. For reasons that I cannot quite put my finger on, this style of quilt is one that I both find quite appealing and am not a natural with, so while I first encountered the book by getting it out of the library, I did decide to buy it. It is an older publication, so it was possible to get from a used book seller of your choice for a very modest price.

Snuggly Monkey

This happens every year. I come home from QuiltCon inspired to organize my creative fiber life, and as I inch closer to retirement (yes, I am picking a date, and yes, it is looming within sight) I feel like I need to get geared up and organized in order to launch immediately into a productive post-work life. It needs to have handwork and machine work. I need to have my supplies and I need to be able to find them (this is a story for another day). This year, in the ugly war that my own government launched against it's own people in Minneapolis, where I work, I am also quite commited to buying from people who side with decency. I used to think it was more common than it turns out to be. Last year I bought from Snuggly Monkey because the site had a wonderful and reasonably priced array of Sashiko products and while I have a lot of embroidery supplies, not many of them came from Japan, and I rectified that because Sashiko is something I want to do more of. This year, Snuggly Monkey was outspoken about doing the right thing, which is resist resist resist this ugly facist regime that is disappearing and murdering people because of the color of their skin, and so this year I spend my creative dollars with them because they are with me philosophically as well as artisitcally. And the bonus is that they have an even better array of things that inspire me than they did last year.

Death Takes Me by Cristina Rivera Garza

I am not entirely sure I got this book. It is a New York Times Notable Book from 2025, and I try to read at least a number of them, and while I think this is well written and literary, it is also allegorical and that is not my superpower. It does have elements that remind me of Latin American novels I have loved, and that is a genre I have read deeply in. The story is on the disturbing end, especially if you are not reading murder mysteries routinely, and examines the intrusion of crime into the lives of witnesses and detectives. A wave of men are being discovered, dead and castrated, their corpses accompanied by mysterious poetic allusions and all the marks of a serial killer to-be. The Detective, at a loss, starts enlisting the services of a local professor and writer, Cristina, who found the first body. The violence of the crimes starts a wave of impact that hits the professor, the Detective, her partner, and everyone else in its wake. The murderer appears to be a woman, castrating men, leaving behind poetry using ‘women’s objects,’ such as nail polish or lipstick. This troubles the professor and the detective both. Men start feeling that they have to protect their genitals in public and long for the days when basically women were subjugated to men so they could feel both safer and more powerful. So in the era of the Epstein files, where it it very clear that rich and powerful men like having their way with young women and children, we can see where the rage comes from. Read with caution, the material is gruesome but the emotions are understandable.

Lost In Starlight (2025)

This Korean animated feature length film is the one not nominated for an Oscar in 2026, and while I am almost certainly in the minority, maybe even alone, I liked this much more than the ever so populare K-Pop Demon Hunters. Would be astronaut Nan-young (Kim Tae-ri) has dedicated her life to being selected as a member of the next expedition to Mars, following in the footsteps of her mother who tragically died there in a natural disaster. But when she meets retro tech guru Jay (Hong Kyung) by chance, she discovers a whole new side of life, that will lead to a connection that traverses the solar system. A big aspect of the film’s visual look is clearly anime-style but which captures the kind of positive glimpse of a future world that science-fiction appears to have discarded wholesale in recent years. It’s something akin to more of the same but with changes: it’s a world of holographic displays and garish advertising, people overusing their phones (or equivalents) and using the best that scientists can create to set up a habitat on Mars, but it’s also a world of rainy streets, familiar cityscapes, people going gaga for retro tech in a trendy fashion and good ol’ fashioned communications through aerials dug into the ground. In fact, Lost In Starlight feels like a love-letter to analog in a lot of ways, to old forms of tech that cyclically come back into fashion, with a late-in-the-game hallucinogenic sequence really making the point about the longevity of vinyl. It’s use of tightly cut montage techniques are also stellar, giving the film a needed sense of vibrancy even when it might otherwise not seem like it has such a thing. Speaking as a lover of things that are mechanical, it was fun for me, and better than the plot that runs through it, which was fine, and for an animated movie good even, but nothing to write home about.