March’s reading list felt like being dropped into the interiors of other people’s lives — marriages, friendships, families, ambitions — sometimes deliciously, sometimes uncomfortably, but always with a kind of closeness that made it hard to look away.
It began with Broken Country, a slow burn that nevertheless became insatiable. I found myself genuinely excited to return to it each night, and as a book club pick, it was one of those rare unanimous wins that we all tore through.
Homeschooled was undeniably fascinating and unflinchingly open, but where you hope for some catharsis or clarity in a survival story, I found myself instead filled with unresolved frustration. I found the memoir to feel at times more like anecdotes of growing up with a narcissistic mother and less than a true story of transformation or growth.
Then came a complete tonal shift with Everything I Know About Love by Dolly Alderton, which I was clinically obsessed with. Irreverent, insightful, and imaginative, it struck that perfect balance of humor and vulnerability — I laughed, I cried, I paused to think. It felt like both a conversation and a mirror, the kind of book you underline and immediately want to gift.
Fictional delight for anglophiles showed up in Royal Spin — fizzy, fun, and smart, and exactly what you want if you love the world of The Royal We, the behind-the-scenes intrigue of From the Corner of the Oval, and the charm of Emily Henry. It’s the literary equivalent of champagne at Afternoon Tea— light, sparkling, but still thoughtfully done! Plus, it’s co-authored by a real member of the Royal Rota, Omid Scobie!
Other reads leaned more introspective. I Just Wish I Had a Bigger Kitchen opens with the author’s admission that the life she lives and the topics discussed within the book are incredibly privileged, but she is refreshingly honest about a life of keeping up with the Joneses in a way that feels disarming rather than performative. And Strangers: A Memoir offered a kind of scrumptious voyeurism — an intimate, layered reflection on marriage that at times felt like an Elin Hilderbrand character come to life: coastal, affluent, but grounded in emotional rawness.
And then there was A Death in Diamonds — the one I wanted to love most, and the fourth installment in the Her Majesty Investigates series (essentially fan-fic of Queen Elizabeth II solving mysteries!). A young Queen Elizabeth II solving a murder and political sabotage in 1957 should have been a guaranteed success for me. And while the palace details and royal atmosphere delivered, the reading experience didn’t. It felt like a slog — too many characters, an unclear central mystery, and shifting storylines that made it difficult to stay invested. Even as an ardent royal watcher, I found myself close to giving up multiple times, which pains me to admit.
Taken together, March was less about easy enjoyment and more about immersion — books that pulled me in, whether through delight, discomfort, or sheer inability to look away. Some I devoured, some I wrestled with, but all of them demanded a reaction.
Without further adieu, here are the rankings for the books I read in March 2026.
P.S. I promise to always keep The Lauren Letter free as my little exercise of trying to make the world a bit more beautiful. If, in return, you could considering giving this post a “like” or share with a friend, it would just mean the world to me.
