Rutabaga's Reads 2026: Part 8

Will this finally be a year with two nonfiction posts? Who’s to say for certain at this point, but at least I’ve got one done. For the nonfiction readers out there, what do you like to read?

Accidentally on Purpose (Apr. 22, 2025) by Kristen Kish.

   With Stef Ferrari.

She once thought her trajectory would find her as a globe-trotting businesswoman. When Kristen Kish was a teen working a pretzel stand or doing some modeling, she never pictured herself as a winner of Top Chef and, later, an Emmy-nominated host. Kish grew up in the Midwest (Michigan), a Korean adoptee trying to fit in with her female peers who were obsessing over dating boys and dressing in the latest trends. When she drops university, it’s her mother who suggests culinary school. She recollects her days as a proud 22-year-old looking for an executive chef role despite her lack of experience and reminding herself of the importance of line cooks and being willing to work as one. Kish reflects on her introduction to Top Chef and the process it took to become a contestant. She shares her inner turmoil growing up a closeted queer and how freeing it was to share the news with those closest to her. She talks about the opportunities that have opened up to her since her Top Chef win. She reminisces how she met her wife, that it wasn’t love-at-first-sight or an adorable meet-cute. It began with a professional hug and an Arlo Grey plate.

            The life of a chef shall never be for me, but Kish’s insight into the high-octane, high-stress, frazzling world of food is fascinating, tender and tricky, but once Kish finds her food-centric path, that’s when her passion and determination shine. It’s a story of growth and a search for the self. Yes, it’s about her culinary journey, too, and the unexpected ways in which doors can open when you open yourself up to possibilities, even knowing the anxiety it will/can cause. Kish’s road has been winding, as most paths tend to be, and while it looks like she’s had a whole lot of luck on her side, she’s dealt with disappointment, high expectations, sexism, disrespect, trash talk, fear and shame and manages to rise above it all, taking the high road and not letting small-minded people derail her. She doesn’t get into the nitty-gritty like some readers might prefer, especially when she’s mad, and as detailed as her account is, it can feel like some details are still missing. All that said, her memoir is authentically her and, because of that, triumphant as well. Her life of aspiration is also one of inspiration.

The Blood Countess (Feb. 17, 2026) by Shelley Puhak.

It’s said that she tortured and killed over 600 girls. It’s said that she bathed in the blood of her virginal victims. When Countess Elizabeth Bathory was found, she was allegedly caught in the act of murdering another of her maids and had blood on her hands. She was captured and walled up in a tower, never to be seen again except in an uppermost barred window. While so many in the late 1500s and early 1600s believed this to be true, and even the Guinness World Records book listed her as the “Most prolific serial killer (female)” for 50 years, historians raise doubts as to the legitimacy of these claims. Was the Blood Countess the monster that many people (mostly men who didn’t know her) accused her of being?  Could the Blood Countess have been a victim herself, made part of a witch-hunt after she became a widow with a Hungarian aristocratic lineage that went way back? She might’ve been the target of one of the most successful disinformation campaigns in history. For her book, Puhak traces the Countess’ well-to-do early life through her significant marriage to Count Francis Nadasdy, the Black Lord, to her downfall. She’s assertive and smart in a time when neither trait is expected or appreciated in women, and it is a tumultuous time.

            While this book is not overly long (only 210 pages through the Epilogue), it is weighed down by doubts and questions, plus too many men who lust for power/money/favor/land. Puhak’s extensive research takes what’s been written before and factors in new archival evidence to shed light on centuries-old assumptions. Reading it is hard, and it’s hard to imagine what it must’ve been like for the Countess to feel attacked from so many sides when all she’s doing is trying to manage her substantial landholdings, protect and raise her kids and oversee the people around her who also depend on her. She’s feisty, but she’s also a worrier. This reads like a revelatory whodunit that’s turning fabrications and blood-soaked mythology on its head. It’s a sordid, grim legend and an enraging, eye-opening journey that reveals how far some will go to destroy a woman in power.

Every Day I Read (Dec. 2, 2025) by Hwang Bo-Reum.

   Shanna Tan, translator.

In this nonfiction book, the author invites readers to reflect on one’s relationship with reading and the books one chooses. There are “53 Ways to Get Closer to Books.” In other words, this book contains 53 short chapters. It encourages readers to read bestsellers as well as beyond bestsellers, to read classics, poetry and novels, to read what you’re interested in along with books beyond what you’re interested in. It prompts readers to read aloud and not only to oneself, to read widely and deeply, to collect quotes and write book reviews. It nudges readers to join book clubs, to not be afraid to discuss books and to take time for difficult books. And she asks, “What Have You Been Reading?”

            When I first started this book, my initial reaction was that it might not be for me. I felt it might feel too philosophical. Fortunately, I don’t like to quit books and so I can now rave about this one’s significance. I love books, and I love reading, but Hwang loves both more. This love letter to reading celebrates books of all types, even down to reading multiple books at once (a norm for me). Reading is intimate and personal, but it’s also a shared experience, one that can include a community. Here is a book that makes you reflect; it is highly introspective. It ended up being absorbing, and I flew through it. Hwang reminds us that “reading helps us confront our inner selves,” but we must also realize that we can only do that if we’re willing to challenge our reading selves. I can’t say I’ll regularly push myself to read deeply, but I do know that, like the author, I will live my life reading. Always.

            Powerful lines: “We see what others choose to show us. We see the curls in their hair, but not the tangles in their hearts.”

            Also by the author (fiction): Welcome to the Hyunam-dong Bookshop