Not-So-Scary Halloween Reads for Kids

October 27, 2025October 21, 2025 / Lauren / 1 Comment

Now that the temperatures have dropped, I’m kicking my horror obsession into high gear. I’m going through my Audible audiobook purchases and listening to anything remotely paranormal, and I’m watching as many delightfully flawed 1970s horror films as I can find on my streaming services. The rest of my household, though, isn’t quite on board with my level of horror. My four-year-old gets up and starts to leave the room during particularly tense moments of Sofia the First. My two-year-old cries when he wakes up at 6:30am and it’s still dark.

Even though they’re not ready for it, my kids are still drawn to the spooky stuff. They’re fascinated by ghosts and skeletons. We’re a long way off from listening to the Spooked podcast together, but they can handle the horror equivalent of a balance bike and a sturdy helmet. These are some of the not-so-scary titles we’ve been enjoying this fall, in no particular order.

Leo: A Ghost Story written by Mac Barnett, illustrated by Christian Robinson (2015)

Leo is a little ghost who finds himself unwanted and unappreciated by his house’s new (living) residents, so he decides to wander the city and discovers a lasting friendship. Mac Barnett is one of my favorite authors to read out loud, and Robinson’s signature cutout-style illustrations are adorable with just the barest hint of spookiness from the blue color palette.

The Skull: A Tyrolean Folktale by Jon Klassen (2023)

You’ll recognize Klassen’s signature monochromatic palette and impactfully sparse prose from picture books like I Want My Hat Back. The Skull is a more substantial chapter book about a girl who runs away from home and befriends – you guessed it – a skull. Both my kids adore this book, which has a creepy-not-scary vibe and takes 15 to 20 minutes to read out loud. Even my two-year-old will sit for the whole thing. As for me, I have been haunted by the story’s unanswered questions that don’t seem to cross the kids’ minds. (If you’ve read Sam and Dave Dig a Hole, you know what I mean.)

There’s a Ghost in This House by Oliver Jeffers (2021)

Here’s another picture book for kids obsessed with ghosts. This one follows a girl around her house as she looks for the ghosts that supposedly live in her house. She can’t seem to see them – but the reader can, with help from transparent pages that overlay the old-fashioned photographs of rooms. It’s a clever and entertaining book that we’ve been re-reading from cover to cover. (I mean it. You only get the full story if you look at the endpapers.)

In a Dark, Dark Room: And Other Scary Stories retold by Alvin Schwartz, illustrated by Dirk Zimmer (1984)’

You probably read this classic book yourself as a kid, or had somebody read it to you. Are the stories as satisfying as Schwartz’s Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark? No, but this smaller tome won’t accidentally give your kids nightmares if you pick the wrong story. (Not that I know from experience or anything. Cough cough.) My two-year-old lights up with anticipation of the jump scare I insert at the end of the title story.

A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens, illustrated by Brett Helquist (2009)

There’s a tradition in the UK of telling ghost stories at Christmas, and what better story to turn to than the GOAT of Christmas ghost stories? The illustrations are what make this book work. You’ll recognize the style of Brett Helquist from the gloomy covers of A Series of Unfortunate Events by Lemony Snicket. The prose seems to go over my kids’ heads, but as an adult it’s loads of fun to read Scrooge’s dialogue aloud and give it the weight of King Lear mourning the dead Cordelia.

Gustavo, the Shy Ghost by Flavia Z. Drago (2020)

If you thought Leo was cute, then Gustavo might take the cake – or rather, pan de muerto. Gustavo is too shy to talk to the other monster kids, so he decides to put on a violin concert instead. It’s a relatable story in beautiful colors inspired by Mexico’s Day of the Dead celebration. Fans of the movie Coco will enjoy the color palette and musical theme, but this sweet picture book thankfully won’t require adults to grab a tissue. (Not that I know from experience or anything. Cough cough.)

Scary Stories for Young Foxes by Christian McKay Heidicker (2019)

My four-year-old knows the creepy stuff is out there. To scratch the itch that the cute ghost stories can’t satisfy, we’ve been dabbling in some middle-grade books like Scary Stories for Young Foxes. It’s a series of interconnected stories about two juvenile foxes and the horrors they endure as they try to get back to their families. There’s a beloved teacher who turns rabid, a murderous father, and a terrifying take on a classic children’s author. Nothing is gratuitous, though, and it all builds to a satisfying ending. If you’ve been reading Hansel and Gretel with nary a nightmare, it might be worth a try.

The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman (2008)

We’re also giving a try to this middle-grade book authored by dark fantasy master Neil Gaiman. It’s the story of Bod, a boy who is raised from infancy by the inhabitants of a graveyard after his family is killed. Despite the gloomy premise, the fantasy elements outweigh the horror parts; readers of Gaiman’s adult works like Norse Mythology will be familiar with the tone. And each chapter is episodic like Scary Stories for Young Foxes, making it a good match for younger attention spans.

Recent Reads for Hesitant Historians

September 15, 2025September 11, 2025 / Lauren / 1 Comment

I am surrounded by history lovers. My husband is a history professor who uses me as a sounding board when he’s talking through new articles. A good friend does deep dives into English monarchs, and she shares memes that mash current events together with Medieval art. And I have to confess: I have no idea what they’re talking about.

I’m very useful when you want to assemble some IKEA furniture, or if you want to differentiate between an American crow and a common raven, but listening to me explain the American Revolution is like watching an episode of Drunk History (and sadly, without the negronis). I don’t dislike history. It’s just that the kind of history you get in school – politics, wars, rich people – does nothing for me. What I want is an exhibit of decorative arts, a reconstructed peasant house, a display of medical instruments. Maps of migrations laid over topography or ecological changes. A poster. A piece of metal. I want something that’s alive with meaning and has a story to tell.

If a relaxing evening involves hooks, needles, or rippers:

Threads of Empire: A History of the World in Twelve Carpets by Dorothy Armstrong (2025)

I can’t get through biographies of monarchs, but give me a book on how their clothing was constructed and I will drink it up like a chocolate fountain in Versailles. Threads of Empire tickles the same part of me that loves dresses and chain mail at art museums. This isn’t just about who owned history’s beautiful rugs, but the people that made them, the materials and techniques they were working with, and what was going on in their world.

Related read:

Silk: A World History by Aarathi Prasad (2024)

This is another great read that takes a close look at how a prized textile is made, then zooms out to examine its place in time and geography.

If you never got past your childhood fascination with pirates:

The Wager: A Tale of Shipwreck, Mutiny, and Murder by David Grann (2023)

We’re attracted to stories of things gone wrong, whether it’s hikes or music festivals. As you can guess from the subtitle of this book, there are quite a few things that went wrong with the HMS Wager in 1741. This is a true crime novel, a survival tale, and a look into 18th century British naval life – did you know expeditions routinely sailed with dedicated scientists on board? – with a little dusting of world politics. Grann crafts an engaging narrative well worth the hype.

If you can’t get enough of the British Navy, you can circumnavigate again with Hampton Sides’ bestseller from last year. Sides’ narrative doesn’t move with the same momentum as Grann’s book, but it’s a voyage well worth taking.

If you can’t look away from technological disasters:

Challenger: A True Story of Heroism and Disaster on the Edge of Space by Adam Higginbotham (2024)

Nobody synthesizes story and science quite like Adam Higginbotham. Last year he released this book on the Challenger space shuttle, which exploded during liftoff in 1986. He’s on par with the best thriller writers in terms of building suspense, and he’s just as adept at breaking down complex engineering concepts.

This book has haunted me: not only in its emotional impact, but in how amazing it is that we’ve accomplished space travel at all. It compelled me to make a pilgrimage to the Intrepid Museum in Manhattan to get an up-close look at the Enterprise, the very first orbiter NASA made for the space shuttle program.

Higginbotham is making quite a name for himself writing about 1980s technological disasters. His award-winning debut focused on the Chernobyl nuclear meltdown, and it’s just as good (and horrifying) as Challenger.

If you’re a news junkie:

Looking at Women Looking at War: A War and Justice Diary by Victoria Amelina (2025)

“I have just bought my first gun in downtown Lviv,” starts the diary of this Ukrainian novelist and mother turned war documenter. Amelina’s diary tells the story of how she and other women – librarians, lawyers, writers – were experiencing the war in Ukraine and participating in the resistance. She was killed by a Russian missile in 2023, and this book collects her unedited and uncompleted notes. It’s a chilling reminder that her life was suddenly cut short at 37 years old.

Related read:

Secondhand Time: The Last of the Soviets by Svetlana Aleksievich (2017)

Alexievich is well-known for her oral histories of the Soviet Union, and this book is an accessible look at how people in Russia experienced the fall of the Soviet period and the emergence of a new Russia. The experiences and viewpoints are as diverse as if you’d selected a random group of Americans and asked them how they viewed the 2024 election. If you’re looking to understand modern Russia, this is a really great place to start.

If David Attenborough narrates your inner thoughts:

The Beast in the Clouds: The Roosevelt Brothers’ Deadly Quest to Find the Mythical Giant Panda by Nathalia Holt (2025)

Can you imagine a world in which people think pandas are imaginary creatures? Apparently, it was only a century ago. This book chronicles the sons of Teddy Roosevelt (who lent his name to a different type of bear) as they explored the Himalayan mountains in search of this very real animal.

Related read:

Every Living Thing: The Great and Deadly Race to Know All Life by Jason Roberts (2024)

You’ve probably heard of Carl Linnaeus, one of the most famous Enlightenment-era catalogers of the natural world. But have you heard of mathematician and fellow naturalist Georges-Louis Leclerc, Comte de Buffon? There are reasons for one man’s obscurity and the other’s fame, Roberts argues, including the convenience of Linnaeus’ theories of racial hierarchies and Leclerc’s aristocratic status (probably not the best thing to be in 1780s France).

If you’re fascinated by architecture and buildings:

Twelve Churches: An Unlikely History of the Buildings That Made Christianity by Fergus Butler-Gallie (2025)

Butler-Gallie presents a fun and often funny history of the world’s largest religion by focusing on twelve buildings in particular. You’ll visit an amazing church complex in Ethiopia that was carved into volcanic rock with medieval tools, Japan at the cusp of its isolationist Edo period, and the site of a tragic bombing during the Civil Rights movement. Religion is a fascinating way to view world history, and this book has something for everyone regardless of your personal faith.

Related read:

The Bookshop: A History of the American Bookstore by Evan Friss (2024)

From the publisher: “Evan Friss’s history of the bookshop draws on oral histories, archival collections, municipal records, diaries, letters, catalogs, and interviews with leading booksellers to offer a fascinating look at this institution beloved by so many–not just as a merchant, but as a gathering place for like-minded people who cherish books.”

If you held onto your science textbooks from college:

Say Anarcha: A Young Woman, a Devious Surgeon, and the Harrowing Birth of Modern Women’s Health by J. C. Hallman (2023)

If you enjoyed Rebecca Skloot’s The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks or the many fistulas in Mary Roach’s Gulp, then this one is for you. Modern gynecology and obstetrics are relatively recent innovations, and their development was due to experimentation on poor and enslaved women, such as Anarcha. This books covers what we know about her, including her life beyond the operating table.

Imagine you’re a young woman who just found a great-paying job painting glowing watch faces in Waterbury. Now, imagine you and your coworkers start getting too sick to work – and your employers try to paint you as a promiscuous partier. This is the horrifying true story of the radium girls, factory workers in the early 20th century who were exposed to radioactive material while business owners looked the other way. It’s also the story of the uphill battle for worker protections and safety standards.

And another one just for fun:

A People’s History of the United States by Howard Zinn (1980)

Instead of a triumphant story of great mens’ achievements, Zinn’s history looks at everyday people, such as workers in early factories, immigrants, women, native Americans, slaves, and servants – those whose exploitation arguably fueled the power of those great figures. It’s been republished several times since its release in 1980, and it has influenced hundreds of works (including titles on this list) that take a more critical look at our national narratives.

Able and Willing

September 1, 2025August 25, 2025 / Susan O. / 2 Comments

Disability is a loaded word.

I won’t debate the semantics of the term, what the current politically correct term is, or how to make your workplace more variant friendly.

Let’s talk about something far more inflammatory. The rights of the disabled to carry out adult relationships. At best, a disabled person is able to find a partner despite their difficulties, marry (or not), and live a happy adult life together, with or without kids (popular example: the TV show Little People, Big World). Sometimes, it’s disabled people fighting in court for the right to marry or raise their own children (the movie I Am Sam). At the very worst, it’s vulnerable people being preyed upon, taken advantage of, or controlled to the point of involuntary sterilization.

I grabbed the book Hunchback, partly because it was short, and partly because I’ve been in the field of disabilities for 40 years. Hunchback, a novella by Saou Ichikawa, was not the book I’d expected, despite winning multiple awards. Ichikawa’s character, Shaka, suffers from congenital myopathy (same as the author—write what you know), which has left her with progressively weak muscles. Her back is so hunched over she can’t breathe when holding a book, and she spends half the day using a ventilator. She can walk short distances, but her body is twisted and one leg is far shorter than the other. She has a tracheostomy, which makes talking difficult, so she uses a lot of alternative communication devices. Shaka spends her time writing erotica online, the money from which she spends on food for poor people and women.

Winner of several Japanese awards, Hunchback calls out ableism on many levels. Ichikawa considers it political: Disabled people are hidden away by society, never considered because they’re never seen. People in wheelchairs are rarely mentioned in literature at all, unless they’re being “cured,” like in Heidi or A Secret Garden. Disabled people are portrayed as a drain on society, dependent on charity, so by making a wealthy disabled character (who generates income through pornography), she pokes a hornet’s nest.

Another book that touches on the subject of sexual autonomy is James Cole’s Not a Whole Boy. Cole was born in the 60’s with a severe case of exstrophy – most of his organs were born outside his body, and his pelvis malformed. Most babies with this condition do not survive. Due to Cole’s mother’s determination and a great team of doctors, Cole managed to thrive despite severe obstacles. While he seemed more or less normal to other kids, Cole hid the fact that he had double ostomies – all his waste was collected in bags, as he didn’t have the needed parts and couldn’t use a toilet. As he got older and puberty kicked in, it became necessary to undergo multiple surgeries just to have a sense of comfort, normalcy, and proper biological function. Cole’s book documents his struggles with medieval children’s hospitals, lack of pain management, and his eventual success with a career in art and film – certainly not hidden away.

A book that took me by complete surprise was Riva Lehrer’s Golem Girl, a golem being a creature formed from dirt or clay. Riva was born with Spina Bifida in 1958, a time when most afflicted infants did not survive, and almost certainly didn’t walk. She suffers dozens of painful surgeries to keep her mobility, most of which do nothing to ease her issues – she’s just a guinea pig for the surgeons. Although she attends a grade school for the disabled (disability laws hadn’t been written yet), she attends a mainstream high school, then university, where she gets a degree in fine art, all while dealing with surgeries and intense feelings of revulsion toward herself. Amplifying it is her mother’s overprotective codependency, spitting out helpful comments such as “You don’t need a nose job. No one wants to marry a cripple,” and “You shouldn’t have children; pregnancy will just mess up your spine worse,” – culminating in an involuntary hysterectomy at 15 on the mother’s order.

Riva goes on to have multiple affairs with both men and women. While some relationships work out, many times she’s still hit with prejudice – “I can’t love a cripple.” Riva remains unstoppable. She becomes more comfortable with herself through meeting up with other people – often activists – with disabilities. As an artist, she gains renown (and awards) through her paintings of disabled people (and others) she has met.

This book was so hard to put down, and read like you were in the middle of a conversation with her. Lehrer doesn’t go into detail on her disability or surgeries; she talks about herself, not her medical issues. After doing time as an anatomical artist, she sees people not so much as disabled, but as human variants – no one is “normal,” there is no “normal,” just human variations. But everyone has a right to love and happiness.

At the heart of it, people with physical disabilities are still people. It doesn’t mean they don’t have the same dreams, desires, or feelings as people who aren’t. All of these books will give you deep new insights into the strength of humanity.

Tales of Shipwreck & Survival

May 26, 2025May 19, 2025 / Susan O. / 2 Comments

Everyone knows about the Titanic since they found the wreckage and made a movie about it, but shipwreck is usually the last thing on anyone’s mind when they book a cruise. In reality, only 24 cruise ships have ever sank, and many of those had been pressed into service as warships at the time. Cruise ships, despite their top-heavy appearance, are quite safe.

*There are an estimated 3,000 shipwrecks off the coast* *of the Outer Banks, NC*

There are an estimated three million shipwrecks under the waters, not counting small craft. Some of these date back as far as 2500 BCE, when the Mediterranean Sea was a hotbed of trade from Egypt and North Africa to the coasts of Italy, Greece, and Spain. The rate of commercial shipwrecks has been declining throughout this century, from 200 in 2000 to only 26 in 2023, and most of those are cargo ships, which are often in poor repair, overloaded, badly balanced, and cross some of the most difficult waters (releasing rubber ducks and sneakers). This does not include the fishing industry, which is nearly unregulated, especially in Asia and South America. It is estimated there are 100,000 deaths from fishing each year, due to poor industry standards and almost no oversight.

When we think about historical ships, we think back to Roman biremes, Viking longboats, and primitive rafts like Thor Heyerdahl’s Kon Tiki long before we come to the glory days of Spanish, British, French, and Portuguese galleons vying for naval power, leading to spectacular – and expensive – shipwrecks. The Bermuda Triangle, The Skeleton Coast, The Cape of Good Hope, and several rocky coastal areas around the continents were famous for wrecking ships, let alone the risk – then and now – for icebergs in the North Atlantic, and the real though rare possibility of rogue waves – lone giant waves of up to 100 feet, with no warning and no precursors, which have been implicated in a number of wrecks. There’s also the 1958 Lituya Bay, Alaska tsunami, which, due to the funneling nature of the bay, created a wave 1700 (yes, one thousand seven hundred) feet high, lifting a fishing boat, whose crew miraculously survived.

Like all natural disasters, ship disasters make for fascinating reading and occasionally a great movie. Here are some excellent works on the misfortunes of ocean-bound ships, some of which you may not have heard of, but really happened.

The Wager, by David Grann

If you haven’t yet read The Wager, you need to. A true tale of murder, mutiny, greed, heroism, and unbelievable survival in the harshest of conditions. Against better judgment, the Wager tries to round the dangerous Cape Horn in 1741, smashing against rocks in a gale. In a barren wasteland, with nothing to eat, the crew splits, half commit mutiny, some commit murder, and half of them will make it back to tell the riveting tale. A must read.

Graveyard of the Pacific, by Randall Sullivan

Who knew that more 2000 ships have been wrecked on the corner of the Oregon/Washington coast? Fierce storms, fog, reefs, sandbars, and tidal rips from the incoming flood of the Columbia river are so bad that there are specific ships and captains who must steer commercial ships through the area. While the book is partially taken up by one man’s quest to kayak through this deadly area, the rest of the book is quite fascinating.

Ghost Ship, by Brian Hicks

There are many theories as to why the ship Mary Celeste was found abandoned at sea in 1872, with no clue as to what happened. The lifeboat was missing, and the crew abandoned ship so rapidly that food was still on the table and a sleeping child’s form was still outlined on the captain’s bed. Hicks combs through details to provide a solid, scientific reason, the best theory anyone has come up with yet, and the horrible fate of the crew.

In the Heart of the Sea, by Nathaniel Philbrick.

The foundering of the whaleship Essex in 1820 became the inspiration for Melville’s novel Moby Dick. The Essex was sunk by a sperm whale in the Pacific, killing most of the crew. A handfull survived in a whaleboat for five months, surviving on cannibalism and rainwater. Melville allegedly met the son of survivor Owen Chase while at sea, and later met surviving Captain Pollard, who was considered bad luck after two lost ships, and no one would hire him. The combined diaries of the survivors were later made into a film.

When the Dancing Stopped, by Brian Hicks.

If Ghost Ship wasn’t enough, Hicks covers the perfect storm of disaster on the Morro Castle, a top of the line 1934 cruise ship traveling between Cuba and New York’s Pier 13. With horrific odds, the ship faced a tropical storm gaining on them, a nor’easter barreling toward them from the opposite direction, a murdered captain, an arsonist’s chemical fire underneath a ceiling filled with gunpowder, a crew that had never performed a fire or lifeboat drill, lifeboats whose launch mechanisms were painted closed, and a crew that fell apart at the first sign of trouble. How anyone survived (besides the crew, who abandoned ship without helping passengers) is a miracle. A book that reads like a novel, and is very hard to put down.

Deadliest Sea: The Untold Story Behind the Greatest Rescue in Coast Guard History, by Kalee Thompson

More fish are caught in Alaskan waters than almost everywhere else, yet many fishing boats remain virtually unregulated as to safety, and there are powerful political groups that push against it. In 2008, the Alaska Ranger meets with bad weather and too much ice, loses its rudder, and starts to sink. As in every disaster, few are trained, shortcuts were taken, lifeboats don’t work properly, wetsuits have holes, and they are more than 200 miles from the Coast Guard rescue planes. Thompson creates a tense tale of survival and aggravatingly poor working conditions as the Coast Guard rushes to save the crew. A lot of names, but hard to put down.

Futility, or, The Wreck of the Titan, by Morgan Robertson

Okay, this one is short fiction, and because it’s so old it’s hard to get a copy of (you can read it for free on Project Gutenberg, here), but it’s mentioned in so many memes as “The Titanic Foretold!” that I wanted to include it here. Published in 1898, the book, yes, involves an “unsinkable” ship called the Titan, that, in its second collision in two days, hits an iceberg and capsizes. The unlikable protagonist rescues a little girl in order to get a seat on a lifeboat, then plots to use her to extort money from her family, and most of the book is about him whining about being stuck with the kid. There is almost nothing in this novella that compares with the Titanic, beyond a name (common enough. It would have been more compelling if the name was Carpathia or something) and an iceberg (also common in those waters). It’s short, you can read it, but it’s trite, simplistic, outdated, boring, and sometimes painful to read. But, truly, it in no way predicted the wreck of the Titanic.

If you’d prefer, check out these films of ocean disasters:

In the Heart of the Sea

The Perfect Storm

Finest Hours

The Poseidon Adventure

Making Sense of Book Awards

May 12, 2025May 8, 2025 / Adam / Leave a comment

Has this ever happened to you? You’re in a library or book store, minding your own business, when a ray of light blinds you, stopping you in your tracks. You think, “Is this aliens? Is this the rapture? What is going on?” You catch your breath and realize it’s just the gleam of one of those shiny emblems that says, “Booker Prize.” You pick up the book and even more questions flood your mind: “Who’s this Booker fella and what right does he have to tell me what to read?!” I’ve been there, I get it. But there’s no need to dismay. Once you make sense of book awards, they can be helpful tools in the eternal search for your next book.

Booker Prize

The Booker Prize (formerly the Man Booker Prize) is awarded to a book written in English and published in the United Kingdom or Ireland. A panel of five, made up of “creative peers,” choose the winning book. The award skews towards British and Irish authors, but winners hail from around the world, like Sri Lankan author Shehan Karunatilaka or Jamaican author Marlon James. These books land on the literary side side of things, and some recent winners include George Saunders’ Lincoln in the Bardo, Margaret Atwood’s The Testaments, and Bernadine Evaristo’s Girl, Woman, Other.

The International Booker Prize is also worth noting. These books are translated into English and must be published in the UK or Ireland. The Vegetarian by Han Kang, Flights by Olga Tokarczuk, and Time Shelter by Georgi Gospodinov won in 2016, 2018, and 2023 respectively.

Nebula and Hugo Awards

The Nebula and Hugo Awards are the two big names associated with science fiction and fantasy (SF/F) literature. The biggest difference between these awards is the voting body. To vote on the Nebula, you need to belong to the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers Association. Essentially, you need to be a SF/F writer yourself. For the Hugo Award, all you need is a membership to the World Science Fiction Convention, which costs $50. Despite this difference, it’s not uncommon for a single title to win both awards. Some recent examples of this feat are Network Effect by Martha Wells, The Stone Sky by N. K. Jemisin, and This is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone.

Edgar Award

The Edgar Award is named after (who else but) Edgar Allen Poe to honor the best of the mystery genre, and chosen by the Mystery Writers of America. In the past, some familiar names have won: Stephen King for Mr. Mercedes and Noah Hawley (writer of the Fargo television series) for Before the Fall. But overall, The Edgar Award stands out to me because the winning books tend to be less well known; it’s a good way to find underappreciated gems. Some recent winners include Notes on an Execution by Danya Kukafka, Djinn Patrol on the Purple Line by Deepa Anappara, and The Stranger Diaries by Elly Griffiths.

National Book Award and Pulitzer Prize

The National Book Award (courtesy of the National Book Foundation) and the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction (courtesy of Columbia University) are both meant for American authors. The Pulitzer Prize is awarded to novels that “deal with American life” and tend to be fairly popular, often getting the television or movie treatment in the years after its win. The National Book Award has more lofty goals, and is designed to “ensure that books have a prominent place in our culture.” These winners don’t generate as much buzz, but they’re just as profound and moving.

Winners of the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction include The Nickel Boys by Colson Whitehead, All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr, and The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt.

Winners of the National Book Award include Blackouts by Justin Torres, Sing, Unburied, Sing by Jesmyn Ward, and The Good Lord Bird by James McBride.

Nobel Prize in Literature

The Nobel Prize in Literature is voted for by the Swedish Academy and stands out in a couple ways: Authors from any country are eligible for the award, and awards are based on an author’s body of work as a whole. This means that the winning author can put the “Winner of the Nobel Prize in Literature” stamp on any book in their back catalogue and any future book they write. Sounds like a good deal to me! Past winners include Kazuo Ishiguro, Alice Munro, and Toni Morrison.

Women’s Prize for Fiction

The last award I’ll touch upon is the Women’s Prize for Fiction which is voted on by a panel of five notable women. This award, along with the Booker Prize and the now defunct Costa Book Awards, at one point made up the “trinity” of UK’s literary prizes. Recent winners include Piranesi by Susanna Clarke, Hamnet by Maggie O’Farrell, and An American Marriage by Tayari Jones.

It can also be interesting to look at the notable awards of non-English speaking countries. Winners usually have an English translation available, and their relative obscurity makes it feel like you’ve uncovered some esoteric text. Compass by Mathias Énard was a great find of mine that won the French Prix Goncourt Award in 2015.

At the end of the day, it’s important to remember that these awards are all made up. They were all chosen by people, and people have their own tastes, their own mercurial and indecipherable preferences. There is no trait–not intelligence, success, nor clout–that makes one person a better “book judge” than another. If you find an award that speaks to you, great! But otherwise, take them all with a grain of salt and keep in mind the only book award that truly matters: The (insert your name here) Award.

P.S. If you really want to dive into the dramatic side of the book award world, there is always heated discussion about each year’s Booker Prize shortlist. This year, the six shortlisted books will be announced on September 23rd, and the more bookish parts of the internet will be a-buzz, defending their favorites and attacking the books they deem unworthy. It’s a bit messy, but good fun.