Searching for your next great read? The weather is gorgeous, Meyer Green looks ever so temping and all you need now is a book to lay on a picnic blanket with. Look no further! In this listicle, current students recount the books they’re reading and why you should read them too.

“Bel Canto” by Ann Patchett — Ellaheh Gohari

Japanese businessmen, Latin American guerilla fighters, a French ambassador, a Swiss U.N. negotiator and an American opera singer collide in “Bel Canto,” a thrilling novel that weaves masterfully through the perspectives of all these characters and more. A third-person omniscient point of view is incredibly difficult to write well, particularly for a cast of characters so large in number and distinct from each other, yet Patchett manages to seamlessly blend the unique and often opposing motives of her characters as they grapple with their months-long imprisonment in an unplanned hostage situation. As relationships are formed, loyalties are tested and the growing threat of the outside world reaches a crescendo, readers will find intrigue in both the chaos of an unpredictable situation and the seeming normalcy of day-to-day life — even at the most abnormal of times. “Bel Canto” challenges us to put ourselves in the shoes of someone completely different from ourselves so that we all may gain a more empathetic understanding of why people make the decisions they do no matter how initially unbelievable they may seem.

“Oathbound” by Tracy Deonn — Blyss Cleveland

I waited patiently for the March 4 release of “Oathbound” and then impatiently for my library copy, which took nearly seven weeks to arrive. I then devoured the 656-page novel in eight days. The third book in Tracy Deonn’s Legendborn Cycle, a young adult series based on the legend of King Arthur, picks up where the last book left off. As protagonist Bree Matthews attempts to gain control of her newfound magic powers under the tutelage of the Shadow King, her friends and adversaries search for her, and she becomes embroiled in a quest to solve the mystery behind a string of missing Black girls.

Part of what makes “Oathbound” so compulsively readable is Deonn’s attention to balancing world-building elements with character development. Bree has extraordinary abilities, but she is also a 17-year-old Black girl who is depicted as being worthy of love and care even when she makes mistakes and impulsive decisions. “Oathbound” features multiple perspective shifts, which took some getting used to and made the narrative slightly unwieldy at times but made me even more excited to return to Bree’s viewpoint. There are important developments in the love triangle between Bree, Nick and Sel, and my lips pursed with disappointment at certain passages because the couple that I root for appears doomed. However, I felt extremely validated by the shocking twist in the last chapter that suggests not all is lost with my good ship. Unfortunately, I’ll have to wait until the next installment to see if it’s smooth sailing or more rough waters for my preferred pair.

“Less” by Andrew Greer — Hana Dao

It was on a breezy summer afternoon, sitting by the banks of the Kamo River, that I spoke with friends about books that had been significant to us. It seemed perfect that we, as students enjoying our time abroad in Japan, should also reflect on authors who’ve poignantly led readers onto a journey of adventures. As all of us now eagerly wait for the ticking clock of spring quarter to end and release us into the freedom of summer, “Less” is a humorous and profound novel that speaks to the small moments of tranquility and gratitude for the beauty we stumble into abroad, after we leave our hometowns or campus bubbles of comfortable familiarity. 

When novelist Arthur Less receives a wedding invitation from his ex-boyfriend of nine years, Less decides the best response is to politely decline, of course, then go on a globe-trotting adventure that spans from Mexico to Morocco, Paris to Kyoto. Along the way, our goofy protagonist finds himself grappling with loss and mortality but also celebrating love and life. This is a novel that speaks to the all-too relatable imposter and duck syndrome, our urges to say yes to it all and overcompensate for our own regrets and the fear we have of others’ judgment This is not a novel about slow travel where you gaze out scenically into the passing landscape — it’s a story of traveling through one’s past and coming to terms with the present.

“Salt to the Sea” by Ruta Sepetys — Kelly Wang

Despite being one of the deadliest maritime disasters, the 1945 sinking of the Wilhelm Gustloff is rarely talked about. Ruta Sepetys brings to light imagined stories of the German ship from World War II (WWII) in her young adult, historical fiction novel, “Salt to the Sea.” The book follows the escape from war-torn Europe by a handful of refugees. Among them are four unlikely companions: Joana, a Lithuanian nurse; Alfred, a Nazi; Emilia, a Polish orphan and Florian, an East Prussian restoration artist. The group finds shelter in abandoned homes and narrowly avoids aviation bombings in their escape. At the same time, they must grapple with the guilt that comes with surviving amid a deadly war. 

There is a broad platter of WWII books that detail Holocaust horrors and uprooted civilian lives, but Sepetys delivers character bonds like no other. An elderly “shoe poet,” Heinz, offers words of wisdom and grandfather-like comfort to a young “wandering boy” named Klaus. A blind teen named Ingrid navigates the dangers of hiding her disability, making it through checkpoints at the mercy of the last, remaining shreds of humanity. The group’s love and care for each other demonstrate to me how anyone could survive such treacherous situations — even if it is only the memory of both the shipwreck and their human spirits that remains at the end of the day.

“Orlando” by Virginia Woolf — Allie Skalnk 

In accordance with my long-held habit of taking absolutely forever to finish a book — or start one, for that matter — Virginia Woolf’s “Orlando” has been floating in and out of my library app for nearly a year now. Woolf, known for her total focus on character, flowery writing and stream of consciousness style, has been a favorite of mine since high school. By throwing plot to the wayside, she more completely and beautifully portrays the inner worlds of her characters. In her novels, the characters seem to grow to fill the whole page: She once spent nearly a whole chapter describing the inner thoughts of characters from the time a ball was thrown to when it was caught. 

In “Orlando,” Woolf strays from her trademark of a plotless story — and to great effect. The novel follows the titular character who grows up a boy, undergoes a sudden and never-explained change of sex at age 30 and continues her life. Now a landmark in feminist and transgender literature, “Orlando” often feels strikingly ahead of its time. Once again ensnared by Woolf’s mastery of words, I was captured by the elegance of her prose and stayed for how much it makes me think. 

“Parable of the Sower” by Octavia Butler — Miriam Awan

Many older dystopian novels — think of anything you were forced to read in high school — have been praised for accurately predicting our modern social and political problems. But none have hit closer to home for me than Octavia Butler’s 1993 novel “Parable of the Sower.” Set in 2024, the book imagines a future California devastated by climate change, spiraling economic crisis and violence. Our protagonist, Lauren Olamina, is raised in a secluded religious community but grows increasingly discontent with her Christian faith and its inability to explain the deteriorating world around her. When a fire destroys her community, Lauren leads a band of survivors in search of habitable land — and a god she can believe in. 

For a novel that deals with religion, “Parable of the Sower” is never once preachy or heavy-handed with its themes. Instead, Butler renders her dystopian California with extreme detail and naturally depicts how human beings might respond to that world in harsh, often beautiful prose. Despite being written in 1993, the book is also full of insight into our current political moment; for instance, many of the novel’s characters rally behind a presidential candidate who promises to return the U.S. to its former economic glory by removing all existing worker protections. “Parable of the Sower” is also a story about hope: watching Lauren come into her own and build a community of fellow refugees, through small acts of kindness in a nearly hopeless world, is genuinely moving to read. 

“The Unworthy” by Agustina Bazterrica — Melisa Ezgi Guleryuz

In “The Unworthy,” Agustina Bazterrica crafts a haunting dystopian narrative set in a post-apocalyptic world ravaged by climate catastrophe. The story unfolds within the confines of the Sacred Sisterhood, a repressive religious cult where women are subjected to brutal hierarchies and dehumanizing rituals. The narrator, an unnamed “Unworthy,” documents her experiences using makeshift materials, — ink, dirt, even her own blood — offering a glimpse into the oppressive regime that governs her existence. 

The Sisterhood enforces a rigid caste system: From the lowly Unworthy to the Chosen and the Enlightened, each level demands greater sacrifices, including physical mutilations like sewn-shut eyes and removed tongues. These acts are portrayed as paths to spiritual purity but serve to entrench control and suppress individuality. The arrival of Lucía, a new Unworthy, disrupts the established order, prompting the narrator to question the foundations of her reality and the nature of the Sisterhood’s teachings. Bazterrica’s prose immerses readers in a world where faith is weaponized and autonomy is stripped away. Through the lens of horror, “The Unworthy” examines the resilience of the human spirit in the face of systemic oppression, making it a compelling (yet disturbing) read for those interested in feminist dystopian books.

“Firekeeper’s Daughter” by Angeline Boulley — Cate Burtner

Any interest in a romance, detective novel, sports drama, Native American legend and chemistry textbook wrapped up into an upper-YA novel? 

“Firekeeper’s Daughter” follows 18-year-old Daunis Fontaine — an Ojibwe hockey star caught between two identities — as she is thrust into an FBI investigation examining the meth problem in her community. The novel presents a story that is at once dramatic and deeply authentic. Throughout the book, true selves are concealed and fronts are constantly put up — whether to preserve the soundness of an investigation or to frame another for a heinous crime. While falseness permeates a community, each emotional truth between its members feels genuine.

I loved this book even through its flaws. The 18-year-old characters who navigate murders and drug addiction also exchange too-childish dialogue. At times, Daunis dips a bit into “not like other girls” territory. But “Firekeeper’s Daughter” is a book that rewards letting go and reading simply for pleasure. The novel doesn’t strive for perfect realism or flawless artistry. Instead, it accomplishes many things at once and also made me feel like a kid reading with a flashlight under the covers. “Firekeeper’s Daughter” doesn’t beg for respect, but it earns it — even for those beyond its target audience.