By Mike Steklof, Ed.D.

Those who know me well know that if I have a free moment, I choose to read. Reading allows me to be transported to new places, new perspectives, and new ideas. It’s one of the ways I explore the world, even when I’m sitting still.

That love of reading followed me somewhere unexpected this week, at the bank. The teller had a sticker on her water bottle that read, “You want a dragon? Earn one.” A reference to Fourth Wing by Rebecca Yaros. Within minutes, we were talking about romantasy novels and the joy of getting lost in a great story. It was a small reminder that stories connect us, even in the most ordinary places.

For a long time, I have avoided Jewish fiction. Much of what I encountered focused on the Holocaust. Those stories are essential, but I found myself craving more joy, more imagination, and more complexity in my Jewish life.

Recently, I returned to Jewish fiction through recommendations from the Jewish Book Council and discovered books that opened Jewish ideas in new and unexpected ways.

I was especially drawn to the work of Maya Arad. In The Hebrew Teacher, she explores language, identity, and belonging, especially what it means to live Jewishly between American and Israeli cultures. In Happy New Years, Arad captures moments of transition and reinvention, showing how Jewish time and personal change are often intertwined.

Another recent book that resonated with me was Sam Sussman’s Boy from the North Country, a reflective coming-of-age story rooted in place, memory, and family. Through its quiet storytelling, the novel explores what it means to grow up Jewish on the margins and how geography, community, and inherited stories shape who we become. It reminds us that Jewish identity is not one-size-fits-all, but rather it is deeply influenced by where and how we grow.

I was also moved by Songs for the Brokenhearted by Ayelet Tsabari. Through its interwoven stories of love, music, and Mizrahi identity, the novel helped me learn more about the assassination of Yitzhak Rabin not just as a historical moment, but as a national heartbreak that continues to shape Israeli and Jewish consciousness. Experiencing that history through fiction made it feel more intimate, more human, and more painful.

Judaism has always been a tradition of stories, texts we study, memories we carry, and narratives that shape who we are. Returning to Jewish fiction reminds us that our stories don’t only preserve the past; they invite us to engage with the present and imagine what comes next.

Sometimes, opening a book is not an escape at all, it’s an invitation to listen more closely, to ourselves, to one another, and to the many voices within our Jewish story.

Mike Steklof, Ed.D. is the Executive Director of Hillel of Buffalo. Any and all book recommendations are welcome at [email protected].