Anxious People, by Fredrik Backman (2019, fiction). I read this for book group. It’s a little batty. Liked it, especially the humanity that comes through, and the fourth wall breakage was fun. This was my first time reading anything by Backman, though years ago I watched the 2015 film adaptation of A Man Called Ove, and a few days ago I saw and loved A Man Called Otto. Noting here that suicide is a recurring theme in both Backman stories, which of course made me think about my dad.

My tastes in film have shifted, by the way. Where I used to prefer sf&f and action, now those almost always feel silly and cringey to me; instead I find myself craving realism, where it seems easier to find good writing and acting. (Whether that’s actually true, I don’t know. I may be biased here by having recently watched Moneyball and now A Man Called Otto.)