As a kid, reading was one of my greatest comforts—I was the reading on the bench at recess, sneak-reading under my desk or past bedtime kid; I wanted out, and books let me escape those claustrophobic school days. But as with most things, my reading habits and abilities have become increasingly finnicky with age. Depending on what I’m feeling or working on in my writing, my tastes and tolerances can be all over the map.

Over the past couple weeks we’ve all been feeling some—as the moms of pre-k kids call ‘em—Big Feelings™. But I do think we can still find solace in books, if we can do a little work to pinpoint our personal antidotes. (For more on why I think art matters, or is even particularly important, in shitty times, here’s an essay I wrote after they overturned Roe.)

However you cope, there’s a book for that. Here are some I’ve read over the past year or so, and how/who they might help right now: