The presence of the terms Naked and Juicy in this book’s title and subtitle, respectively, initially give the work the vibe of a sex manual, and chapter titles such as “Seeking Satisfaction,” “Getting Lucky,” and “Slipping Into Something More Comfortable” don’t dispel this impression. But the author ably goes on to show that there are many aspects of nakedness other than the erotic. Being unclothed, the author writes, also means getting in touch with one’s authentic self, which exists apart from social conditioning. The book offers numerous practices that aim to show readers how to access this self, beginning with counting one’s thoughts and letting each one float away during meditation, as well as physically lifting particularly persistent thoughts up to the sky in one’s palm. Nudity is also characterized as a way to experience reverence; while bathing in a warm pool with other nude people at Harbin Hot Springs in Northern California, McCandless writes, she realized how beautiful all body types were. Shame is often associated with nakedness, but the author offers ways to heal from this self-perception. “Pink light” visualization entails imagining others with a loving glow, including those who’ve done one wrong. The author, who’s a sexual assault survivor, also discusses her reclaiming of the idea of being a “dirty girl” in the context of her erotic relationship with her husband. The book’s latter part deals with couples more specifically but effectively focuses on the emotional and spiritual aspects of their relationships. The book also explores some dark themes, but McCandless maintains a playful attitude throughout most of the book. She has a relatable style that reveals her own vulnerabilities in accounts of her husband’s infidelity and her negative thoughts about her own body. Her practices and techniques are inviting throughout, because they can be done anywhere, take little time, and require few additional materials.

How might the speakers of Shakespeare’s poems have dealt with the advent of antidepressants amidst their romantic tribulations? What planes of desire and yearning might Twitter or dating apps supplant for John Keats? For the author, a poetic form “forgot by all not taking English Lit” becomes a 21st century catharsis, diary, and confession. In these sonnets, Achilles records a year of emotional turbulence stemming from a romantic and sexual attachment to her physical therapist that ended poorly. Her style blends the antiquated language readers associate with sonnets (“’Twould be too pat:—prepost’rous! Yet, genteel”) with contemporary phrases and crassness (“One more request:—will you please cum in me?”), lending the speaker a degree of levity even as she bemoans her therapist’s family and her own crumbling marriage. Like her predecessors, the author places the object of her affection on a pedestal (“stainless as a god”) while lamenting her own shortcomings, describing herself as a “fretful, pummeled emu” or “mad hen.” But as their relationship metastasizes, the speaker begins to take stock of the would-be couple’s interpersonal shortcomings and lack of compatibility (and, thankfully, to focus on the pursuit of goals beyond sex and love, like querying agents about her novel). Yet, even as she begins making literary progress and dating new men, she can’t quite relinquish this first flame. While the sonnet form may not be to every reader’s taste or always synchronize with some of Achilles’ more blunt confessions, these verses vividly illustrate the familiar figure of a person tragically in love. The sonnets feel most human when Achilles drops the affected veneer in favor of colloquial terms of our time; for all the high-brow ways of describing rejection and heartbreak, what sums it up better than “this sucks”?

In the 1990s, China was a marginal player in world affairs, struggling to find a path to economic development. However, during the next two decades, it established itself as a major power with a thriving economy and a vigorous government determined to challenge the U.S. Mastro, who has won awards for her geopolitical research, undertakes a deep dive into China’s tactics. Her central thesis is an idea she borrowed from business thinking: that China has deliberately acted as a disruptive force, avoiding direct confrontation with the U.S. wherever possible and instead looking for gaps and weaknesses to exploit. For example, Chinese leaders have built aid-based connections with regimes that the U.S. has disdained or neglected, and they have focused on assisting with internal security issues, such as police training and surveillance systems. When China has participated in international institutions, it has sought special treatment and concessions, always looking to improve its position. It has injected itself into regional conflicts as a disinterested mediator while building up its military might. Mastro puts forward a range of moves that the U.S. might take to leverage its advantages, such as deepening its relationships with other Asian countries, asserting its position in regional hotspots, and demanding that China adhere to agreed-upon trading policy. Some of her proposals would be difficult to implement, but her framework for action is sound. While the text never entirely breaks away from its academic origins, the author puts forth many interesting ideas. Anyone who enjoyed Graham Allison’s Destined for War will find this book to be insightful and thoroughly researched.

In the near future, Belle is an aimless, unemployed 30-year-old woman living in an Alaskan village. When she receives a job offer from “the world’s premier tech company,” Eccleston Evolution, she’s quite surprised. Its founder, Sophia Eccleston, is a notoriously abrasive person in her 70s who, thanks to advances in technology, doesn’t look a day over 20. She wants Belle to work as a nanny for her sightless, 8-year-old daughter, Juno. Belle will live at the company’s secluded headquarters in Alaska. The site contains animals that were once extinct but were brought back to life with technology that uses DNA extracted from fossils (although none of them are dinosaurs, à la Michael Crichton’s 1990 thriller Jurassic Park). Meanwhile, an aggressive businessman, Lucas Ivanov, is planning a hostile takeover of Eccleston Evolution. In yet another plotline, a man named Seth Johnson, whose wife was cryogenically frozen by Eccleston prior to her death, is facing financial hardship as he struggles to pay Eccleston to keep his spouse alive. He starts to lose his grip, and he’s committed to a mental hospital before later embarking on a rescue mission. The early pages of Lester’s novel very effectively draw readers in; different aspects of the near-future world are revealed, and questions arise about Eccleston Evolution, which also has a hand in humanoid robotics technology. The plot thickens when it turns out that Juno may be much more than she seems. The book also has quite bit of business talk, however; the discussions surrounding the possible takeover of Eccleston aren’t particularly compelling, since readers have little reason to care about either Eccleston or Ivanov as characters. (Ivanov is notably described as someone who “buys what he can’t create.”) Still, the novel does have some surprises, particularly in the later pages, which feature disturbing discoveries.

Voices, hallucinations, and paranoia haunt Suzie Franks, a first-year college student in Portland, Oregon, who was diagnosed with schizophrenia as a child. She struggles with bouts of delusion and causes outbursts on campus. When confrontations with other students escalate, she’s given an ultimatum: Take medication or risk expulsion. Suzie, afraid of the drug’s side effects, which include weight gain, refuses to take it and slowly alienates her friends and supporters before disappearing entirely. She winds up on a bus to Las Vegas after meandering around the country—turning away from her supportive boyfriend and mother in the process—and she joins a clan of people who live in the flood channels beneath the city. The tension builds in the novel’s second half, with the terrifying “Wonderman,” who leverages power, drugs, and influence to control the other tunnel dwellers, serving as an ongoing danger. Another looming threat is a bad rainstorm, which could wash everyone away and which forces Suzie to either face her past or risk drowning. Despite all her flaws, Suzie is so likable that her ongoing struggles are harrowing to watch. Landt gives readers a clear sense of what life is like for Suzie, whose oppressive, imagined voices are clearly rendered. The structure of the novel doesn’t entirely work, however. The most involving section—the lead’s descent into mental illness and underground living—could have come earlier in the novel. Much of Suzie’s prior life, before running away to Las Vegas, is less interesting and gets undue attention. Also, pivotal relationships are left unexplored until the novel’s denouement. Still, Suzie’s is a unique, absorbing tale, full of drama and memorable scenes.