I’m a card-carrying bookworm. I love to dive deep into a book that sweeps me away and into somebody else’s life. Although I enjoy a lot of what I read, not every book can totally absorb me from the first sentence, so I treasure those books when I find them. One of my favorite books of 2026 so far does just that. It’s not only Oprah-approved—it’s also beloved by author Ann Patchett (The Dutch House, Bel Canto), who recommended the book to me.
The book is Kin by Tayari Jones. It’s Oprah’s 121st book club pick, and it’s easy to see why.
The book follows two motherless best friends in small-town Louisiana during the Jim Crow era. Niecy’s mother was killed by her father; Annie’s mother abandoned her as a baby. The two grow up as inseparable “cradle friends,” but their lives increasingly diverge as Niecy goes to college and enters a life of greater privilege, while Annie chases information about her mother through brothels and bars. Their lives are full of intense love but also heartbreak as they grow both together and apart.
Even reading it in fits and starts between working through my to-do list, I was totally hooked. The narration is dryly funny, bursting with character and observations that alternate between witty and devastating. The arc of the story is aching and intimate, with a deftly interwoven commentary on privilege and class in the Jim Crow-era South. The undertones of repressed queer desire were bittersweet in a way that has stayed with me long after the last page.
“This is a masterpiece of a novel that contemplates the meaning and complications of love and friendship, and it will live with you long after you turn the last page,” Oprah says. “Tayari Jones is able to allow the divine to come through her and light up the pages with her words."
When I asked Ann Patchett what books she recommends at her bookstore, Parnassus, she named Kin as one of the best books of the season. “It's just glorious,” Ann Patchett told me. “It's a moving and funny and just brilliantly written book.” I couldn’t agree more.
Just read the opening lines of the novel:
“My first word was mother. Not ma-ma like other babbling babies. I said the word out loud and with texture. MOTHER. Of course, I can’t remember this, but there are a host of witnesses, including my Aunt Irene who called out for God and considered running down the block to fetch the Pastor. But before she could even smooth the sweaty edges of her hair, she decided that this wasn’t a pot to be stirred by any man’s spoon.”
It’s impossible to argue with writing that good, and it only gets better from there. Grab a copy for yourself, and don’t forget to join the GH Book Club for more great book recommendations.
