THE NEW YORKER Picks the Best Books of 2026 So Far

Welcome to Today in Books, our daily round-up of literary headlines at the intersection of politics, culture, media, and more. Here are the biggest headlines from last week.

The New Yorker’s Best Books of 2026 So Far

The publication we keep in stacks around our homes to let everyone know how smart we are has announced its list of the best books of the year, so far. The list compiles 2026 books recommended by The New Yorker editors and critics. It’s quite long and includes some buzzy titles like John of John by Douglas Stuart, Kin by Tayari Jones, London Falling by Patrick Radden Keefe, and Famesick by Lena Dunham, but also, as you might expect, some under the radar and indie reads. I’m happy to see two of my most anticipated books on the list: This Is Where the Serpent Lives by Daniyal Mueenuddin, which also made the NYT best books so far, and The Witch by Marie Ndiaye, translated by Jordan Stump.

The NYT’s Best Beach Reads of the Summer

The New York Times is here to help you choose your summer 2026 beach reads. These are new and upcoming books that neatly fall under the broad category and promise a good time. I’m especially interested in Take What You Can by Naima Coster, described here as an "old-fashioned friendship yard" and Whistler by Ann Patchett, pegged for readers who love heartfelt family dramas. The selected books cover numerous genres and categories, from love stories to thrillers. And if you’re looking for some older books, you can check out our list of The Best Beach Reads of All Time.

The Best Books of 2026 So Far Lists Out Now

The Best Books of 2026 So Far lists keep coming. We’ve already seen 2026 so far best ofs from The New York Times and The New Yorker, but we also have lists from Vogue, Esquire, and BBC. I maintain stink eye toward any publication that doesn’t have a single Black author on their Best Of (pointing it at Vogue right now). I’m intrigued by the mix on Esquire’s best of 2026 so far , so let’s start with that publication. Books of criticism rarely receive the attention Namwali Serpell’s is getting this year, but the subject of the text is, after all, Toni Morrison, and I hear Serpell is masterful in writing about her in On Morrison. Also on Esquire’s list is one of the best literary thrillers I’ve read, Whidbey by T Kira Madden, and don’t miss Imani Thompson’s buzzy debut Honey, which Adam Morgan writes was “’fiercely fought’ over by ten different book publishers."

Is Ragebait Lit the Next Big Trend?

Over at Harper’s Bazaar, Maris Kreizman writes about "The Rise of Ragebait Lit" and what these books and the discourse around them says about today’s feminism. Maybe you’ve been thinking about feminism’s progress and setbacks in light of all that’s going on in the world and looking at it all through the lens of literature. I have, and that’s why this Culture piece caught my eye. Even if you haven’t immersed yourself in the Substacks and social commentary surrounding Belle Burden’s Strangers: A Memoir of Marriage, Caro Claire Burke’s Yesteryear, Lena Dunham’s Famesick, and Lindy West’s Adult Braces , to name a few, you’ve probably picked up what Kreizman is putting down about the response to the mess set forth by at least one of these books (and if not, I applaud your commitment to touching grass). This is a short, pensive commentary about the various versions of feminism that show up in these books, how they and we grapple with being a woman today, and the rise of "Angry Women." It sows seeds of thought worth growing as we encounter and engage with the discourse.

Help Rebuild a Beloved Black-Owned Bookstore

One of too few Black-owned bookstores has been dealt repeated blows and needs our help. A pattern of storms affecting the bookstore’s Bed-Stuy neighborhood has been flooding the basement of Gladys Books & Wine. If you want to help keep this inclusive space protected, consider donating to the Gladys Books & Wine rebuilding gofundme. Here’s a little more about this wonderful shop:

Gladys Books & Wine is named after my grandmother, Gladys Dockery. She was a sharecropper from Mississippi who didnt get past the 5th grade but was also the person who breathed life into my dreams and encouraged my early love of reading. She was the kind of woman who made room for everyone (literally everyone) at her table. That’s what I wanted to build in Bed-Stuy: a home for Black feminist and queer literary culture, a place where folks could find themselves on our shelves and in each other’s company.