Before I get into this book review, I want to give an unsolicited lecture. In all of my leadership work—whether coaching or as a CEO—I notice the need for better habits from my clients or employees. One of the greatest habits that has changed my life (and my sleep) is skipping the Netflix and the social scrolling, and committing to reading before bed.
Books of any kind should capture your attention, and when people say to me, “I can’t read” or “I’m out of the habit,” my guess the majority of the time is that they just haven’t found their genre or their author. I pick up dozens of books a year from my local library, give them a 30–45 page chance, and return them without shame (and protect my budget in the process). It’s not a failure—it's more data points for me on what kind of books I actually enjoy.
So, give it a try. Get a library membership. Read for 30 minutes tonight before bed. And if you need recommendations for a book to get into, message me—I can send you a few page-turners to help you get back in the habit.
There are certain books that don’t shout at you—they just quietly unfold, then sit with you for weeks. Same As It Ever Was is one of them for me. And, honestly, Claire Lombardo’s other book, The Most Fun We Ever Had, did the same.
Lombardo has this rare gift for writing characters who feel both maddening and familiar, like people you love deeply but also secretly judge at Thanksgiving dinner. In her newest novel, we meet Julia Ames, a 57-year-old woman who has, by all appearances, built a lovely, settled life. But as we quickly learn, “settled” doesn’t mean still. And it certainly doesn’t mean safe. This feels eerily familiar to my own experience.
Over the course of the book, Julia’s world gently, then quickly, tilts: her son delivers unexpected news, her teenage daughter begins pulling away, and the past comes a’knocking. Lombardo doesn’t give us dramatic plot twists or outlandish secrets. Instead she gives us something more unsettling: the slow, familiar unraveling of a life that looked just fine from the outside.
What I loved most is how Lombardo explores motherhood in all its contradiction and doesn’t tidy any of it up: ambivalence, guilt, devotion, and resentment. Julia is not always likable, but she is always real. The writing is sharp, intimate, often funny, and quietly devastating.
If you’re into 500 page, character-driven novels, that span a lifetime and read like emotional excavation, this one’s for you. Warning: I cried profusely the last 30 minutes of the book.
4 out of 5 stars. Especially if you're in, or approaching, your “what now?” era.
I am known to loop on sauces or condiments until I completely fatigue of their flavor and am forced to move on — salsa verde, traditional pesto, pickled red onions — nothing is safe. This pesto, unoriginal and giving late 1990’s cuisine, was born from a desire to up-level a beach picnic sandwich without the use of my refrigerator hummus.
But don’t write it off just because it is basic. Since we made it, it’s pulled more than its weight: tossed with pasta (with a splash of the starchy pasta water), folded into scrambled eggs, and whisked into a salad dressing. The possibilities are endless, and if I don’t overdue it, I can see this one sticking around.
Sun-dried Tomato Pesto
Makes approximately 12 oz
Prep time: 5 minutes
7 oz. sun dried tomatoes with olive oil
⅓ c. toasted almonds
1 c. basil, packed
¼ c. good olive oil
1 large garlic clove
1/2 c. parmiggiano reggiano
Pinch of red pepper flakes
Sea salt to taste
Combine all ingredients in a food processor to reach your desired texture.
Helpful tips:
Feel free to use any kind of nut or seed you have in your pantry! I like toasted pepitas, cashews, and walnuts in pesto. I will die on this hill: I don’t think the traditional pine nut is worth the cost in pesto.
If you like more garlic, bump that up. I don’t like when I can taste the spiciness of garlic, so I opted for 1 clove.
You can add olives, capers, and anchovies and make a tapenade inspired pesto.
I doubled this recipe for my family. As I said, we use it on everything.
Here is to good reading and good eating,
KBW