If Not Him, gifts us with an exquisite collection of poems about love, family, and grief, a love all the sweeter because it contrasts sharply with a difficult childhood. 

With deceptively pellucid language, Dangerous Bodies offers precise, jewel-like crystallizations of understanding that illuminate the craggy and often harrowing emotional terrain of a family gone wrong. Out of abandonment and incest, the wounded child turns to the long building of a self she can rightfully claim as her own.

Charlotte Warren's memoir, "Jumna," chronicles her childhood in India during its fight for independence from Great Britain, and her coming of age in the United States during the turbulent sixties. "Several girls ended up in a fight, the buckle of a classmate's shoe caught in another girl's hair. Cries of pain. In the fray, I was accused of fueling the argument with a mean remark, but although I agreed with the remark, it had come from someone else. Unable to get at the truth, Miss Gasper lined us up, littlest ones in front, and brought out the long wooden hair brush we dreaded. Pants down, bent over, we each received a paddling. Anticipation and the sounds of others crying terrified us more than the thwack itself. I vowed never to hit children. Before bedtime, each of us was given four pieces of toilet paper and told to have a bowel movement. If we couldn't, we were fed a spoonful of cod liver oil. We soon learned to lie. The toilet paper, a lifeless grey, was stiff and needed to be rubbed to soften it. It carried the imprint of the crown of His Majesty the King of England."