Long-listed for PEN Open Book Award Named a Best Book of the Year by The Washington Post, NPR, Time, The Boston Globe, Real Simple, Buzzfeed, Jezebel, Bustle, Library Journal, Chicago Public Library, and more "This book moved me to my very core. . . . [All You Can Ever Know] should be required reading for anyone who has ever had, wanted, or found a family―which is to say, everyone.” ―Celeste Ng, author of Little Fires Everywhere What does it mean to lose your roots—within your culture, within your family—and what happens when you find them? Nicole Chung was born severely premature, placed for adoption by her Korean parents, and raised by a white family in a sheltered Oregon town. From childhood, she heard the story of her adoption as a comforting, prepackaged myth. She believed that her biological parents had made the ultimate sacrifice in the hope of giving her a better life, that forever feeling slightly out of place was her fate as a transracial adoptee. But as Nicole grew up—facing prejudice her adoptive family couldn’t see, finding her identity as an Asian American and as a writer, becoming ever more curious about where she came from—she wondered if the story she’d been told was the whole truth. With warmth, candor, and startling insight, Nicole Chung tells of her search for the people who gave her up, which coincided with the birth of her own child. All You Can Ever Know is a profound, moving chronicle of surprising connections and the repercussions of unearthing painful family secrets—vital reading for anyone who has ever struggled to figure out where they belong.
A bold and personal book that digs below the surface of one of society's last taboos-money-and illuminates how women's emotional relationship with it affects every part of their lives Long ago, and not entirely consciously, Liz Perle made a quiet contract with cash: she would do what it took to get it-work hard, marry right-but she didn't want to have to think about it too much. The subject of money had, since childhood, been quietly sidestepped, a shadowy factor whose private influence was impolite to discuss. This deliberate denial eventually exacted its price, however, when a sudden divorce left Perle with no home, no job, and a four-year-old with a box of toys. She realized she could no longer afford to leave her murky and fraught relationship with money unexamined. What Perle discovered as she reassembled her life was that almost every woman she knew also subscribed to this strange and emotional code of discretion-even though it laced through their relationships with their parents, lovers, husbands, children, friends, co-workers, and communities. Women who were all too willing to tell each other about their deepest secrets or sexual assets still kept mum when it came to their financial ones. In Money, A Memoir, Perle attempts to break this silence, adding her own story to the anecdotes and insights of psychologists, researchers, and more than 200 "ordinary" women. It turned out that when money was the topic, most women needed permission to talk. The result is an insightful, unflinching look at the once subtle and commanding influence of money on our every relationship.
It is 1980 and American literati are trying to decide how to rank Faulkner, Hemingway, and Lanning. The first two are dead and Lanning is coming on strong, but Arthur Lanning is bad mannered in his arrogance and his insulation from his reading public. He claims to have been born in Richmond, but the newspapers research the claim and find nothing. Suddenly he commits suicide above his isolated Sanctuary home in Idaho, and young Professor Zack Thohus is chosen to write his official biography. Thohus is a conscious Lanningphile; he frankly ranks Lanning ahead of Hemmingway. He is wondering, 6 months after the death, how he will be received at Sanctuary. He finds that it is solidly anti-Arthur. Beloved Ruth reveals her fifteen year marriage has never been consummated and, an early orphan, children had been her fondest hope. Siley Alcott, the general factotum, agrees with friend Ruth in every way. None of Arthurs early promises to her have been fulfilled. Zack, feeling himself a psychologic twin of Arthurs and something of a look-alike, is, of course, the central character. He knows something of the history of his own illegitimacy, and he has some of the same feelings Ruth has: a rich hunger for love, a thwarted parental need. He is falling in love with Ruth. Ruths gynecologist thinks she may have two or three opportunities to become pregnant, and Ruths body temperature chart indicates she is starting ovulation. This is the second them of the novel: love is all there is of good sex, but sex is not all of love. Good sex is shared sex. (Divided sex: one for you, one for me, is not shared sex. Shared sex is this and we for us.) Rape is another planet: hate. Well, if you are with me, the book ought to make it plain. Zack finds out that Arthur was a bloody bastard who didnt write all of the good books. And Ruth gets pregnant three times and the first one has hair in silver curls like Zack, and all of them are theirs. In my books, the good guys with every time. Its the way my world is run. Amen.