The first time my husband joined my family for a beach vacation, he brought eggplant parmigiana and an anthropologist’s curiosity about the Jersey Shore. I don’t know what he was expecting — boardwalks? a brush with Bruce Springsteen? — but, after a day or two, he asked: “So we’re just going to read? The whole time?”
We were. My family rented a house on Long Beach Island for a week each summer and spent every waking moment with our noses buried in books. My sister and I had a love-hate relationship with this itinerary, but the instant we exited the Parkway and sand glinted from the shoulder of Route 72, we fell in line with tradition. Our dad staked out a spot on the deck, where he plowed through mysteries and biographies for eight hours a day. My sister and I read on the beach with our mom, barely speaking, breaking only for lunch, which was silent except for the sound of pages turning.
Luckily my husband is a reader too (although he did rent a Jet Ski one afternoon, just to be a rebel). In the years since that first trip, we’ve put our own twist on beach vacations, from Maine to South Carolina to Florida, with detours to a lake in Vermont and a highway-adjacent Airbnb outside Santa Barbara, Calif. We’ve dabbled in activities: kayaking and biking, sun printing and shell decoupage, water slides and paddle ball. Our Scrabble set has seen its share of picnic tables; our kids know their way around an arcade.
But we always return to Long Beach Island, and we always arrive with towers of books. We’ve determined that the best time for beach reading is late afternoon, after the lifeguards and families with Bluetooth speakers have gone home, preferably at low tide when the shoreline is as deep as it is wide. Our optimal spot is dune-adjacent — close enough that you can hear the wind in the sea grass, but far enough away that you’re not interfering with frat bros playing Spikeball. If it’s chilly, bring a sweatshirt. If it’s sweltering, bury your feet in the sand. If you have Bugles or Fritos, they pair well with smart, fun novels like these.
I want a book I can hand to anyone, then discuss
What Kind of Paradise
by Janelle Brown
Like bottles of sunscreen, the best beach reads are shareable. Pass this one-size-fits-most gem among fellow vacationers and, odds are, everyone under your Cool Cabana will find something to appreciate. In Brown’s sixth novel, a father-daughter duo live off the grid in remotest Montana. Only something isn’t quite right in their tightly controlled world: Jane, a perspicacious teenager, begins to realize that her father isn’t who he says he is. When she makes a courageous — and dangerous — break for freedom, we find ourselves embedded in the early dot-com boom in San Francisco. If the Unabomber had a daughter, this could be her story. It might prompt a pop-up book club, and it will definitely make you think about our reliance on technology (especially if you’re squinting at a screen). (Comes out June 3)