The Summer Place by Jennifer Weiner (Atria).

What? A warm-hearted but sharp-eyed family novel by Jennifer Weiner, with Summer in the title? Who saw that coming? Well, we all did, of course, and we’ve been glad about it, looking forward to it, for a while, already. Weiner is an entertainer, not Serious in the way that high art is in addressing (or even ignoring) us, but thoughtful, and that means not only an entertainer. This really is a “family” novel, which simply can’t credibly mean only loving, happy relationships. Rather, as in real life, some bearing sorrow, some, anger at depth, some either hostile or scheming. And so, though I’m slow getting around to it, and though her readers (in their great numbers) always know to expect more than fluff: this new novel is maybe her strongest ever. It certainly makes real—takes us well into and through, but then out of—some real struggles and hurts and losses (the summer of Covid is one element, not major but credible). It’s warming, as always; family relationships deepened, resolved, simply accepted…growth is accomplished, and so is a seemingly precarious wedding. She writes real books, might be said of Jennifer Weiner.

Teenager by Bud Smith (Vintage original).

Vintage, the classic “quality paperback” line (along with Doubleday’s Anchor, the very first to arise, in the mid-1950s) seems to have sustained (or revived) an interest in publishing certain kinds of literary fiction as trade paperback originals; this novel is one. Bud Smith’s subject, here, is an American classic: two very young people on the road and in extremis. We have, in a very contemporary setting, a pair that can’t help but remind us of Bonnie and Clyde: desperate, more lovable than likable, and undeniably doomed; on the road, on their own, in a car and with guns (and even explosives, also easily available these days). It’s at once a thrill ride—the writing is as exhilarating as the action is appalling—and a genuine, full-hearted tragedy. We never doubt that no happy ending can be devised for this, and yet we soon come to trust the author not to be sadistic with these two people or with us. And (I can only hope you’ll trust me on this) we’re right about that.

The Homewreckers by Mary Kay Andrews (St. Martin’s).

And our “already a bestseller” this week (well, on the list in the media next week), one of the very strongest of the “romance” writers we’ve recommended. Andrews’ heroines and her novels tend to have lives and jobs, and often not just jobs but businesses. “Homewreckers,” here, introduces not the breaking up of families, but dismantling and then restoring…houses. Our central character, a young widow, has a lot to reconstruct, and—well, I wouldn’t kid you, you won’t be seriously afraid of her failing, but you’ll believe in her fear of it.