The Melancholy of Mechagirl by Catherynne M. Valence. This.was.fantastic. Valente’s writing about Japan always reaches eerily into the bones — it’s so clearly personal and formative for her, and there is a passion and a need in these stories that is truly affecting. (There’s a real sense of Japan as a diverse place, and so much more than the typical stereotypes of what Japan is — which is pretty damn refreshing.) There’s so much great stuff in here. Obviously Silently and Very Fast is a well-lauded masterpiece of a novella, and “Thirteen Ways of Looking at Space/Time” deserves its accolades as well; but I especially loved some of the smaller pieces. “Killswitch” is a genuine phenomenon all on its own (look up “Killswitch game” on Google if you need proof), and “The Ghosts of Gunkanjima” and “Fade to White” both grabbed me in the heart-place. –Anie (Twitter: @diapasoun)

The Memory of Light by Francisco X. Stork. I knew going into this book that Vicky Cruz attempted suicide and that bonding with the fellow patients in her hospital’s mental disorders ward would help her recover from suicidal depression. Which meant that I knew there would be crying on my part. But I especially loved the way that Stork slowly unravels why each of patients are in the ward and how they can help each other. Each of their stories is heartrending, but he tells them so beautifully, helping to make them fully realized individuals with clear motivations based in their personal histories. In addition, I was struck by how rare it is to have an intersectional book on mental illness: All of the patients are Hispanic. But most importantly, I cried even more than I expected, because recovery is hard and there will always be setbacks, and now I’m probably going to go read all of the Francisco X. Stork books that I’ve been meaning to read since 2009. And probably cry more. –Mary

This Too Shall Pass by Milena Busquets (May 24). Every word of this gorgeous novel is colored by grief. It paints a vibrant picture of the way life stops and yet still marches on after a major loss. Milena Busquets’s beautiful prose twists and turns to avoid and face grief head on. In This Too Shall Pass, Blanca is adrift after the death of her mother. When a loved one dies, a lot of time is spent sorting out who they were and reconciling the difference in their last days. Blanca loves generously and, ultimately, it’s the people around her who bring clarity to an otherwise devastating life event. – Ivy 

 Da Vinci’s Tiger by L.M. Elliott. This is not a fluffy romance, or just for young adults, it’s a well-researched work that transported me to Florence just as the Renaissance was kicking into high gear. I have felt a connection to Leonardo in general since I was a teen, and this portrait in particular when I discovered it features a juniper tree (a pun on Ginevra’s name). I had no idea it was such a groundbreaking work of art however, it’s Leonardo’s very first portrait and it broke many conventions, boldly presenting Ginevra as a thinking, feeling subject. – Juniper (Twitter: @JuniperNichols)

The Queen of the Night 

What was your favorite book of February?