Candid Club

I think the best way to choose a book isn’t to look at the plot, but to look at the mood. Because honestly, half the time I forget the plot anyway. What I remember is how it felt to read it — the vibe, the energy, the atmosphere it carried into the room.

Like, I don’t remember every scene of the last book I loved. But I do remember the chips I was eating while I read it. I remember that I fell asleep on the couch with the lamp still on. I remember the way I kept pausing, staring at the ceiling, and thinking, “God, this is too close.” That’s what sticks.

So instead of giving you summaries, I’m giving you moods. Each book this month has its own collage — a bunch of images that capture the vibe before you even open the first page. Pick the one that feels closest to you, or the one you kind of want to borrow. And if you want to lean into it more, I’ve added pairings: the drink, the food, the place, even the playlist.

Mood A → Cleopatra and Frankenstein

If you’re drawn to this one, you probably get the whole “falling into something too fast” energy. The thrill of it, the chaos of it, the part of you that knows it won’t be simple but stays anyway. This book sits in that space — the pull toward intensity and what happens when you try to make a whole life out of it.

Pair it with:

• A glass of wine you didn’t intend to finish but did anyway. Bonus points if it’s been open for three days.
• Lana Del Rey’s Norman F**ing Rockwell!* or that one playlist you made in college and forgot about.
• Something indulgent that’s hard to justify — oysters if you’re fancy, fries out of the bag if you’re not.
• The kitchen floor at midnight, when you should’ve been in bed hours ago.

It’s not really a book for daylight. Save it for when you want the night to stretch out longer than it should.

Mood board:

Mood B → Beautiful World, Where Are You

This one’s quieter. It’s for when you’re tired but still trying to make sense of things. You think a lot. Maybe you don’t always say what you’re thinking out loud. You hold it in your head, turn it over, and sometimes just let it sit there.

Pair it with:

• Iced coffee in a thin glass that leaves water rings on the table.
• Phoebe Bridgers on low, or absolute silence if you can stand it.
• A meal you abandoned halfway through to type in your Notes app.
• A fire escape or park bench where you can watch without being pulled in.

The book doesn’t really rush, and you don’t have to either. It’s the kind of read you leave on the table, come back to later, and somehow it’s still with you.

Mood board:

Mood C → Know My Name

If you’re here, you probably want something steady. Something clear. Something that tells the truth without dressing it up. Chanel Miller’s memoir does that. It doesn’t look away. It doesn’t try to soften what happened. It just tells it in her own words.

Pair it with:

• Hot tea in a mug that feels grounding in your hands
• No lyrics, just quiet or instrumentals
• Something plain and warm like toast or rice
• A chair you don’t usually sit in so the memory stays separate

Mood board:

Mood D → Crying in H Mart

This one’s tender. It’s about food, family, grief, and all the ways those things overlap. You don’t have to be in the same situation to feel it. It’s in the details — a flavor, a song, the kind of memory that sneaks up on you when you’re not expecting it.

Pair it with:

• Cold barley tea or a childhood soda
• Japanese Breakfast on in the background, or whatever music your parents loved
• Dumplings, noodles, or whatever comfort food you actually crave
• Your own kitchen table, lights turned down low

It’s a book that works best when you let it spill into your everyday — read it while you eat, while you sit in a space that already feels familiar.

Mood board:

Mood E → Bunny

If this one feels like you, you’re probably okay with things getting a little strange. Maybe you’ve been the outsider, maybe you’ve tried to belong somewhere that didn’t quite fit. Either way, you’ll get it. The book is sweet on the surface and unsettling underneath, and it leans into both.

Pair it with:

• Bubble tea with way too many pearls or a cupcake that’s mostly frosting
• A playlist that flips from pop to something harsh and jarring
• Candy that makes you feel a little sick halfway through
• Your bedroom, door closed, one lamp on

It’s not trying to be neat. It’s playful and unsettling at the same time, and that’s kind of the point.

Mood board:

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Why do the pairings matter?

Because when you think about a book later, it won’t just be about the plot. You’ll remember the moment around it. The snack on the table. The drink in your hand. The way the light was in the room.

Pairings don’t change the story, but they change the way it stays with you. Reading Cleopatra and Frankenstein on the kitchen floor feels different than skimming it on your lunch break. H Mart with noodles in front of you just hits harder than scrolling through chapters on your phone.

None of this is a rule. It’s just noticing. Letting the book bleed into the rest of your day. Because that’s when it sticks — not just as something you read, but as something you lived with for a little while.