Dear readers, Back in 2022, the actress Jennette McCurdy wrote a memoir whose provocation was clear from the title page. “I’m Glad My Mom Died” was a smash hit, selling over four million copies and earning heaps of critical praise. The book detailed her mother’s invasive control over her life, and the predatory situations she was placed in as a child actor. Her new novel, “Half His Age,” is another mordant and often harrowing coming-of-age story — about an Alaskan teenager’s affair with her married teacher. It recalls a relationship from McCurdy’s life, an experience she still feels conflicted about. “I had a lot of unprocessed anger from that experience that I wanted to explore,” she said in a recent interview. “Anger’s a really useful place for me to write from.” And again, she wanted to make readers uncomfortable from the very beginning, including the cover; the image is a close-up of a girl’s mouth as she sucks one of her fingers. “I didn’t want anything abstract. I didn’t want a fruit,” McCurdy said. “Please stop with the fruits. I’m so exhausted by the fruits.” Funnily enough, this week I reviewed a new novel, “Tangerinn,” which, yes, has some citrus on its cover. It’s a thoughtful debut about an Italian Moroccan woman’s attempt to make a life for herself in London, until her father’s death suddenly calls her back home. The novel is named for the bar run by the woman’s father, which becomes a de facto home for all the immigrants in town. Her father’s approach to hospitality contrasts sharply with the farce she enacts at her low-paying job at a cafe called Bagels, a passage that made me bark with laughter: “I was in love with the customer, with every customer, and also with life, and with this city and, above all else, with Bagels.” I wish you a week of feeling at home wherever you go. See you on Friday. We hope you’ve enjoyed this newsletter, which is made possible through subscriber support. Subscribe to The New York Times. Love this email? Forward to a friend. Want this email? Sign-up here. Have a suggestion for this email? Then send us a note at books@nytimes.com.
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