Paperback No. 1: One Less Lonely Girl
Kicking off Words Like Silver's personalized recommendations + advice column with a request for wry, introspective reads layered with warmth and depth.
Published May 13, 2025
Welcome to the first iteration of Paperback, my literary matchmaking + Q&A column addressing reader needs and curiosities. After years of (happily) fielding requests for personal recommendations via Instagram DMs and texts, it occurred to me that I should package it as a visible column too for those who want my pulse on their given taste. I'm thinking it will occur bi-monthly? But as with all WLS projects: it might take me a minute to get on a roll!
As for the name, I settled on paper for the books and back for the back-and-forth engagement happening here. You feed my intake form; I feed your reading list.
This week, we're tackling warm, connective, introspective books for C. She's looking for books that can still be serious and meditative in tackling life's big questions, but without that dim bite or flavor that some modern literary picks lean into.
LIKES: personally significant or pleasantly niche nonfiction; beautiful prose; medium-to-low stakes with small-scale worldbuilding; clever, likable, introspective (maybe pretentious) protagonists.
Book examples:
- Quiet by Susan Cain — soothed her introvert brain.
- How to Be Perfect by Mike Schur — moral philosophy from an SNL and sitcom writer, so it's funny and observational without losing its sharpness.
- Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen — loved its cleverness and the "human-scale comedy of the dialogue and absurdity of the world."
- Circe by Madeline Miller — was surprised by how she found it stirring.
DISLIKES: Dislikable characters: finds them interesting, but has trouble at the point where you "find yourself wanting to shake them."
Book examples:
- My Year of Rest and Relaxation by Otessa Moshfegh — just really could not get past the narrator, but found the structure interesting.
- Normal People by Sally Rooney — didn't fully dislike, but got tired of pitying the two of them together. "I found the main characters to be...bummers honestly."
- The Secret History by Donna Tartt — ultimately darker with unlikable characters.
OTHER RABBIT HOLES & CURIOSITIES:
- comedy is a constant
- always geeking over mythology and folklore
- rituals and reverences, and how we construct identity
- jewelry and its significance in female autonomy as being one of the only signifiers of wealth a woman could own (ooooh)
- deep dives into female friendships
- psychology, philosophy, neuroscience, sociology
My Analysis
Okay, so. You love diving deep internally and can handle contradiction, but lean away from edge for the sake of edge. Complicated characters are great, yeah, but it seems like you prefer yours without heavy-handed cynicism or bleakness. (We are similar in that way, which makes total sense to me. Do not read Norwegian Wood, methinks.) Going more YA in terms of your recs just for the coming-of-age focus and the note below, but I can absolutely keep going into adult if you'd like.
I think it was Maggie Stiefvater who said that a way to distinguish adult versus young adult coming-of-age beyond literal physical age itself is that YA tends to focus more on decoding the future whereas adult tends to focus more on decoding the past to move forward. That seems accurate for you being right on this line of being able to hypothetically read both.
And then on a tone level. For you (and for me), philosophy and longing and gentleness can coexist, which all align to me in analyzing your selection of Quiet, Jane Austen, and Circe in combination. I definitely agree that you can get more value from a writer like Mike Schur analyzing philosophy in a high-low sense than (as you said) your college classes on the same, because those tangible applications are where you see it!
“I should probably be reading books that encourage me to prioritize connection because I’m in a pretty lonely phase of my early (mid?) 20s and having a hard time pulling myself out of that while I adjust to a new place I love living in (but can barely afford) with few local friends. I’m a pretty introspective person and generally quite hungry for knowledge but I also just want to be entertained and pulled out of my own head sometimes. I have a hard time stomaching media/entertainment that’s a darker or sadder place to be than the inside of my own head occasionally is.”
So with that being said, here are my next book recommendations for you.
Your Reading List
Warm, Quiet Escapism to Sink into
If you're cool with fantasy, An Enchantment of Ravens by Margaret Rogerson is the quieter, warmer counterpart to a lot of the explosive romantasy hitting the market right now. Considering your preference for cozy stories that keep things on a smaller scale—but still align with some classic, iconic tropes—you'd probably love it. It's lush and immersive (and relatively short for its genre), and the type of book you could sink into on a sunny afternoon and lose yourself in. A good, solid read to sweep you away with lovely language and underrated characterization. You'll look up after, a little dizzy.
The Wren Hunt by Mary Watson would also be a great pick for this particular vibe, because it's built on a pattern-based magic system that shifts the genre almost into magical realism (whatever its non-colonial equivalent is. Surrealism?) The fantastical elements are alluring and magnetic, but grounded in the rhythms of daily living. The atmospheric Irish countryside can be haunting or dreamy, and the broad strokes of that story would likely satisfy you.
Wry, Cinematic, Nuanced Realism
Because you love Jane Austen, Anna K by Jenny Lee nails the wry voice and absurdity of that subgenre like nobody else. If not for the Bergdorf references and the socialites Ubering around Greenwich, the omniscent narration and subtle humor would feel perfectly at home in a Regency ballroom. People try to write Austen retellings and often fail; Anna K is of course based on Anna Karenina, but you'll love it for the same stylings, cultural commentary, snappy dialogue, and indulgence that might make you queue up the 2005 movie adaptation hand-twitch. (I love this book so much.)
Similarly, have you read A Study in Charlotte by Brittany Cavallaro yet? Not for the Austen similarities, but rather because I think its devastating, complicated relationships—depicted with staggering amounts of what I call "precise human detail"—would fit your prose preferences and craving for depth while still jonesing for a good book to pull you out of your head, as you said. It's escapist when you need it to be, but you can also interrogate the complexity of Jamie and Holmes's friendship and morality. It feels real on an individual level, yet cinematic on a plot level in a way I think you'll appreciate!
I read and love Saving Francesca by Melina Marchetta a ton, but if you haven't yet gotten around to it, I'd prioritize it for your preference for complex female friendships. This book addresses a lot of layers within that I haven't seen another narrative do so successfully, like the mismatch when you love a group but know they don't quite love you enough (or whatever the case may be.) It brings the nuance into some of this, and of course is a coming-of-age that may resonate in the midst of early/mid-twenties confusion.
Author-wise, I'd also recommend Famous in a Small Town by Emma Mills for complexity that doesn't shy away from warmth and gentleness, Louise Glück for the poetry equivalent, and a few others I've tossed into the accompanying Bookshop list if you'd like to browse. (No pressure at all to buy any picks through here, but the option is there if you'd like.)
Tragic but Hopeful Folklore & Mythology
For yearning and mythology, go for Autobiography of Red by Anne Carson, a connection of linked, synesthetic prose poems centered around Geryon the little red monster. Definitely a riskier pick, but I think you'll love it for the same reasons I do. Especially in regards to feeling seen re: otherness and occasionally getting too stuck inside your own head. (I get it.)
This one's going to sound weird, and I think the marketing and first chapter does it a major disservice, but Lifestyles of Gods and Monsters by Emily Roberson tries to lean into this cheeky, reality TV-inspired twist on the Minotaur myth, and I actually think it's most successful in these hard-hitting emotional moments around the questions of what it means to survive as a hero and the actual tragedy part of Greek tragedy. It hits on this particular loneliness as you're trying to discover what exactly you want—especially beyond the boundaries of what you've always been told you should want—that I think will resonate with you.
It's sparkly, in some ways, and tackles the dissonance of your entire life being on display and commodified (and how do you know what's real?) that might feel striking in the midst of modern influencer culture et. al. But the way the mythology unfurled choked me up. I'd maybe library it to see how you feel at first, but give it fifty pages and I'm not offended if you hate it. It just might take you by surprise considering your desire for escapism but also depth. Definitely a "hear me out" type of pick, so you could absolutely library it.
To round out my folklore and mythology recs, The Wrath & the Dawn by Renee Ahdieh is an ideal escapism pick (probably the most so from this list): a sultry, atmospheric, angsty retelling of One Thousand and One Nights. It's vivid and fiery and clever. The moral complication of the boy king's dilemma (slaying his wives to appease a curse) would especially intrigue you because it's never simplified.
The Nonfiction Corner
For humor that really hits the nail on the head re: introspection and some bigger human questions, I thought Jessi Klein's You'll Grow Out of It did a fantastic job balancing the confusion and melancholy of some philosophical bits alongside some genuinely hilarious anecdotes, so that would absolutely be up your alley. Also: Hyperbole and a Half by Allie Brosh if you're cool with graphic novel format (rare for me, but appreciated.) She's not afraid to tackle some heavy topics, and you've absolutely seen her formatting shared on the Internet. That being said, it does get dark, so it may not fit that preference.
And then, I know the two of us are similar in this broad fascination with ritual and belonging (and their grounding philosophies.) I recommend this to every blog reader, and not just to you, but you absolutely need to devour Four Thousand Weeks by Oliver Burkeman if you haven't already, because he articulates so much about me and the way I'm wired through the lens of time management and this questioning of whether or not we're doing the right things. My apologies if that's a repetitive rec, but he definitely digs deep into what we find comforting about cyclical pursuits, progress, etc,.
And for other topical nonfiction, honestly, so much of my taste overlaps exactly with yours. I'd say go first for Becoming Wise by Krista Tippett for a high-level overview of some of these conversations—through a ton of interviews with different folks—always through the affirming lens it sounds like you'd appreciate. Definitely gets to the core of what "really" matters. It can be pretentious in certain moments, but is never intentionally so for posturing. Be curious, not judgmental.
More below.
Q&A
“I hope this isn’t cheesy but I’d love to know how you carve out time and mental space for creativity for creativity’s sake. Obviously it’s a big part of your work life so I just wonder if you have any rituals or techniques around separating out different types of creativity (if that makes sense?)”
This makes total sense! What I frequently say is that my hobbies and activities are all reactionary to each other, and that staying in a rhythm helps me most.
I generally find that it's better for me to switch activities than to stop moving entirely—I guess you could call it active recovery? I recently talked about how when I'm in motion, I tend to stay in motion—in that if I slow to a stop, it's harder for me to pick it all back up again. It's most helpful for me to just switch modes but stay in creative motion of some kind.
If I've been on screens too much or writing too much, it's helpful for me to do something physical or outside or nonverbal instead for a while: productive, but the complete opposite. (That being said, I'm trying not to always have to be productive either.) So my day tends to be sectioned out in that way because if I don't give myself another option of something to do, I'll get sluggish and feel like I've wasted my time instead.
If it helps, I literally have an index card with activity options pinned to my fridge (a menu of a kind) with things I love to do on it. Sometimes, we just forget what's out there and what we enjoy until we encounter it again, and feel resentful about wasting our time trying to figure out what sounds best.
Index card options range from take a figure drawing class to take a bubble bath, and it helps me feel like I have options and freedom but also can stay disciplined if a certain format of creativity activity really matters to me.
Practically, a helpful framework for me has always been thinking of my activities in terms of the energy they give me rather than the energy they take away. It's usually better for me to go and do an energy giver — which might look like reading or a pure hobby or even just a moment of beauty — than to think about rationing my energy for energy takers. Otherwise, I find myself doing less but somehow being more tired also?
Usually when I'm sick of one of my activities, I find that an opposite pursuit in my repertoire (so to speak) sounds like the most appealing thing in the world, and then it turns an energy taker into an energy giver. Procrastinating one love with something else works (which is why I like being multidisciplinary.)
Trust your seasons if you're wiped though; if you put something down, it might just not be the right time for it. Timing shifts, desires return, and you’re likely more consistent than you realize. There's a point in "forcing it" when you'll end up hating it instead. The craving to do a specific hobby will come back, I promise. And if it doesn't? Then there will be another.
Re: forgetting what all is out there to do, I also have this theory that varying your sensory inputs (or at least, registering the novelty in nuance and deepening your appreciation of something) helps here, and I find that all has the duplicate effect of also inspiring my creativity when I sit down to actually work on or create something. (I really will transfer this post over at some point.)
That appreciation fits scientifically too because it engages your H&N system, which is basically your long-term love of and satisfaction for something, versus your dopaminergic processing, which is just craving more/more/more and never actually feeling that what you have is good enough.
Recent additions to my index card: go horseback riding and needlepoint. I completely forgot these hobbies existed, but they were fun when I did them as a kid! The freedom of adulthood: you could just sign up for a random hobby-ish class that interests you at any time.
Similarly, I think any way you can deepen your curiosity is a good thing. Whatever makes you feel like your world is a little more open. I still get exhausted, of course, but freshness in that way is what reminds me what moves me to be creative at all. Follow whatever thread, and wherever it leads you will end up layering over something you make down the line. So also just: trust yourself to have weird interests, and those will ultimately synthesize in some way? There's a reason we celebrate Renaissance humans or multi-hyphenates, and it's because pretty much any endeavor you're passionate about will cross-pollinate your creativity in some way, whether or not you see that value in the short-term.
