Note: I originally sent this newsletter a few weeks ago, but the newsletter platform I used was sending my emails to spam :( I’ve since switched platforms so the look + feel of this newsletter is different! Though, I’m hoping to send longer blog-style posts in the future, and I think this new format will suit those ambitions much better. Anywho, thanks for reading!

Inspired by a few of my favorite newsletters Personal Canon, Phrase Books, and Linen Librarian, I’ve decided to try out sharing occasional dispatches of the literature and films I’ve read and watched lately, as well as general musings from my daily life.

Winter & Wuthering Heights

Of all the winters in the past few years, this one was definitely the most cozy in recent memory. Opening my blinds on multiple snowy mornings in a row gave me such serenity. I grew up in Texas where blizzards are rare, so I was quite dumbfounded on that first stormy day to find I could barely walk down my apartment stoop steps which were packed to the my knees with snow. Though it feels a little silly to be chatting about wintertime now. Today it was sunny in New York City.

In anticipation for the Wuthering Heights film release, I picked up the classic novel for the first time. The story is engaging and contains a cast of memorable characters, although I’m not sure I would’ve been so motivated to read it if weren’t for the zeitgeist. The film itself was a major disappointment! I wasn’t expecting much but a sexy, fun romp, but even that was too much to expect. The political statements were empty, the romance and sex were bland, and it just felt like a never-ending music video. When I got home and reported my review to my boyfriend, he smirked and said something like: “Wow, you spent a whole month obsessing over this book and this movie, and now what?” So is life! I’ll probably just skip the next big book-to-screen moment, and I’ll definitely skip whatever Emerald Fennell cooks up next.

All the Way to the River

I’ve been experimenting with listening to audiobooks while I work. Generally, I’m not much of an audiobook person. I find it hard to stay focused and prefer the physical sensation of scanning a text, flipping through pages, underlining impactful moments, and all that, but I’ve found memoirs are the perfect genre for the audiobook experience. A few weeks ago, I finished the infamous book All the Way to the River by the same author of Eat, Pray, Love—Elizabeth Gilbert. This was easily one of the most insane stories I’ve ever heard! It details the relationship Gilbert had with her hairdresser-turned-lover Rayya Elias in the years before and after Elias was diagnosed with last-stage cancer which led to her ultimate death. Once Elias realized she had cancer, Gilbert confessed her love, left her husband (the one she met during the end of Eat, Pray, Love), and funded her and Elias’ nonstop partying, traveling, and shopping in an effort to love hard and live it up before Elias’ died. The catch? Elias was a recovering drug addict and these hedonistic days (and a few other contributing factors) led her to start using again. The story itself is of course sad, but the way Gilbert decided to tell the narrative was so despicable and strange, depicting herself as this helpless woman who enabled her sick girlfriend’s drug addiction because of her own struggles with codependency and love addiction. The few moments of accountability she took were followed up with these Rupi Kaur-esque poems written in the perspective of God telling her that she’s just a child that no one can judge. I’m not doubting the damning nature of codependency especially in the context of addiction, but it felt like Gilbert abandoned taking this topic seriously, and instead cared more about eradicating herself of guilt through these treacly pseudo-spiritual statements. Gilbert also kept referring to Rayya as her “greatest story” which naturally made me question her motivations in altering her whole life for this woman. Did she just want juicy material for another memoir? Perfect book for a book club, because there is so much to discuss! Jia Tolentino wrote a fabulous review of the book if you’re interested in reading a more elegant critique.

God of Small Things

A few books later, I cleansed my palette with Arundhati Roy’s novel The God of Small Things. This lyrical, nonlinear novel follows the story of an Indian family whose whole structure is impacted by the ripple effects of a tragic event. I read this for a book club and found it to be such a refreshing, gorgeous depiction of complicated dynamics amongst family members and the ways politics, caste, and class can influence people’s interpersonal lives. It is a heartbreaking story! Many harrowing events take place which made it difficult to read at times. It is not one of those books you can gobble up in a few sittings—or at least it wasn’t for me. There are grueling depictions of violence, sexual abuse, and poverty. Roy handled these topics responsibly though, and her attention to detail and commitment to the narrative through line made it clear that she aimed to write a thoughtful depiction of tragedy, violence, and grief instead of a salacious story just for the sake of it. I did find some of the book to be a little overwritten at times and the nonlinearity was a bit distracting, but ultimately I enjoyed it and believe Roy is a fabulous writer.

Un Poeta

On Valentine’s Day, my boyfriend and I saw Un Poeta at IFC. This was truly one of the best movies I’ve watched in a long time. The Colombian film follows the story of Oscar, a middle-aged man whose existential struggle of being a great poet plagues him to the point of being absent in every aspect of his life including his relationships and artistic practice. It is a bit embarrassing to say I loved a movie about a poet because obviously I myself love poetry, but I think this film is for anyone. Ultimately, it is about a person’s reluctance to change, the meaning of making “authentic” art, and realizing one’s true values. You can rent this movie on YouTube.

My TBR & Other News

I’ve read a few other books this winter including Ruins, Child by Giada Scordellaro which I actually reviewed for The Brooklyn Rail. My first published piece in a while! After a long writing drought I’m proud of myself for finishing something. Some other nice news: I’m working on my first-ever short story which will be published in a friend of a friend’s new magazine called In Review. Stay tuned!

Recently, I joined the fiction committee at The New York Public Library (where I work), which basically means I’ll be reading a lot of new releases and be part of the process of deciding which books are deemed “the best” of 2026. Admittedly, end-of-year lists have their problems within in the literary landscape, but I’m excited to read a plethora of books and discuss them with my colleagues. These are some upcoming books on my radar:

The Time of Cherries by Montserrat Roig

Women Without Men by Shahrnush Parsipur

The Witch by Marie Ndiaye

Girl’s Girl by Sonia Feldman

Beginning, Middle, End by Valeria Luiselli

The Loneliest Tree in the World by Maria Salomao Carrara

Is Beauty Good by Rosalind Belben

The Palm House by Gwendoline Riley


Take care,
Loré