Every week we identify the best-written works of fiction, speculative fiction, or nonfiction from recent releases and shortlists for major prizes. We also publish articles by their authors on prose technique and AI writing, and for paid subscribers the best-written book of the month.
Information about submitting to Auraist is here. Our standards are as high as for our other picks, but if we publish your work, we’ll invite you to answer our questions on prose style.
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The best-written recent releases»
‘The world’s handsomest man, who lived across the street, was listening to opera in his garden. Supposedly he worked at the National Security Council. So why was he listening to opera in the middle of the day wearing his gym shorts?’
I was plagued by remorse, but my remorse seemed inspired by insignificant dumb things—things not really worthy of bona fide remorse. That didn’t make it any less painful or plague-worthy, as I was still riddled with disgrace on a minute-by-minute basis; so I decided to conduct a scientific study to analyze the cause.
Remorse is akin to regret but more violent than regret. The overall atmosphere seemed like generic self-loathing. But that was too vague. Once I conducted the scientifically controlled study, I could identify the source of the trouble and modify my behavior so I would not be covered in dishonor.
It was a Wednesday morning in our nation’s capital. The president’s helicopter flew overhead, rattling the windows of my house. The world’s handsomest man, who lived across the street, was listening to opera in his garden. Supposedly he worked at the National Security Council. So why was he listening to opera in the middle of the day wearing his gym shorts? Probably a spy. But the opera was significant.
Our pick is here»
Literary fiction titles considered this month
Python’s Kiss — Louise Erdrich; illustrated by Aza Erdrich Abe
The Beheading Game — Rebecca Lehmann
Almost Life — Kiran Millwood Hargrave
American Han — Lisa Lee
Vengeance Is Mine — Friedrich Torberg; translated by Stephanie Gorrell Ortega
Son of Nobody — Yann Martel
Coyote Girl — Sabrina Hicks
The Oyster Diaries — Nancy Lemann
Transcription — Ben Lerner
Like This, But Funnier — Hallie Cantor
The Monuments of Paris — Violaine Huisman
Porcupines — Fran Fabriczki
A Private Man — Stephanie Sy-Quia
Cleo Dang Would Rather Be Dead — Mai Nguyen
The Left and the Lucky — Willy Vlautin
Rules for Mothers — Julie Swendsen Young
Livonia Chow Mein — Abigail Savitch-Lew
An Author’s Dozen — Christopher Amato
The Radiant Dark — Alexandra Oliva
Gödel and the Incomplete Proof — Samuel E. Navarro
The Yankee Sphinx — Mark Frost
List of All Possible Desires — Dylan Landis
A Little Bit Bad — Cassandra Neyenesch
Stay for a Spell — Amy Coombe
Steel Gods — Richard Swan
A Villain’s Hope — S.E. McPherson
Solace House — Will Maclean
Devotions — Lucy Caldwell
The Things We Never Say — Elizabeth Strout
The Body Builders — Albertine Clarke
The Shadow of the Object — Chloe Aridjis
Son of Nobody — Yann Martel
Yesteryear — Caro Claire Burke
Go Gentle — Maria Semple
You Are the Führer’s Unrequited Love — Jean-Noël Orengo
Upward Bound — Woody Brown
The Palm House — Gwendoline Riley
Permanence — Sophie Mackintosh
Like everyone when they first go to recovery meetings, boulevardiers have a God they worship and obey, but that God is their own thoughts, the very addict’s thinking that brought them so low they have to attend these meetings alongside the grossly unhip.
But most of these mondains have defined themselves at some point as unshiftable secularists, i.e. the one and only Almighty God they’ll ever allow themselves is whatever incandesces in their own mind, and are therefore more hesitant than many other recovery types about finding a higher power healthier than their addict’s thoughts, and so they often relapse again and again, each time justified by yet more addict’s thoughts.
It was because their wife left them, because their wife returned, because their football team lost, because they won, because of Covid-19, because a vaccine was successful, because Ukraine was invaded, because of Gaza, Trump, The Uninhabitable Earth, because the recycling bank’s too far away, because a Unionist’s dandruff dropped into their coffee.
Read more here»
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Sean McNulty
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