I often joke that my summer reading recommendations need an audio or visual disclaimer.
If you were saying the title of this list out loud, you might emphasize the first word “summer,” pause, and de-emphasize or distance the last two words “reading recommendations.” You might punctuate with question marks and speak in rising intonation to ask if the selections qualify as “summer reading.” Here are a few possible visualizations:
✅ Summer / Reading Recommendations
Summer Reading ❓ Recommendations ⁉️
✖️ Summer Reading / Recommendations
Yes, my reading recommendations list comes out in the summer. Still, few of the books qualify as “summer reading,” which has become a catchall for non-challenging, plot-driven titles that generally deal in low stakes and culminate in tidy endings. Don’t get me wrong—I love and consume “beach reads” all year long. Our world needs books that entertain and provide escape hatches from the stress of everyday living.
But my personal tastes gravitate more to chewy rather than juicy books. I’m drawn to ambitious or odd books that tackle difficult and sometimes traumatic topics. Juicy books are satisfying for a time, but I prefer to masticate on the words or concepts long after I reach the messy ending of a book. I’m sure these predilections are partly due to my growing up in the South and studying its Southern gothic and grit lit genres.
Here’s more context: The founders of The Bitter Southerner first invited me to contribute to their annual summer reading roundup in 2018. They publish the roundup the week before Memorial Day, so readers can fill their beach totes with the best Southern reads from the past year. The roundup is a retrospective list, distinguishing it from other summer reading lists that preview new books coming out that summer.
The other difference is the roundup’s focus on Southern literature. The books, writers, and often both have some tie to the U.S. South. That helps me cull the list down to roughly 300 books each year. No, I do not read all 300 books. I do read what’s written about those books—sales copy, blurbs, book reviews, interviews, award nominations, website copy, social media posts, and much more.
Representation matters. Just as there’s no one South, no one author or book represents contemporary Southern literature. That’s why I devote a lot of time to seeking out titles from different states in the region. You’ll find young debut poets from independent or university presses in the same list as established, big-name authors from large New York publishers. I consider the race, ethnicity, sexual, and other identities of the writers and characters in the stories to try and capture stories that are as inclusive and diverse as the South.
And just when I start to congratulate myself for turning something artistic into a scientific process, I fail. I miss the sleeper book that came out last fall to no fanfare but won the Pulitzer Prize just after I submitted the list to my editors. I try to limit the number of books to 20 but get pushback to add titles written by authors whose books fall slightly outside the date range or miss the mark in some other field. One year, I can’t find any standout books from Arkansas. The next year, it looks like I’m biased and only choose books from Arkansas. (Arkansas is just an example. You can insert another Southern state name here. But Arkansas is a pretty cool place!)
I wrote about the pitfalls of curation and overthinking in my introduction to The Bitter Southerner’s 2024 Summer Reading Roundup.
The roundup books are the same titles that appear in this Summer Reading Recommendations PDF. The digital version includes links to the books on Bookshop.org and to the audiobooks (when available) on Libro.FM. Both sites support independent bookstores and affiliates (like me) when you use the links and buy the books.
I also discussed the 2024 list in this interview with Lois Reitzes, host of WABE’s City Lights and a force for the arts in metro Atlanta.