Journalist Jesse Green's delightful memoir makes it quite clear that the pleasures and perils of parenting are always the same--even for a gay 37-year-old man who stumbles into it by falling in love with a person who has an adopted son. As Green puts it in a typically well-turned phrase, "fatherhood trumps gayness," which is to say that heterosexual parents at the playground sometimes find it easier to relate to Green, his boyfriend, Andy, and son, Erez (soon joined by baby brother Lucas), than do the well-buffed, perennially youthful male guests at a Fire Island party--they flinch at the sight of diapers and baby bags. As the author searchingly and intelligently considers what it means to gay people to become parents, and the ways in which it does and does not pull them closer into the mainstream, his narrative is often extremely funny. (Joking about Erez's apparently heterosexual inclinations, Green deadpans, "We tried our We played him Judy Garland records and showed him tapes of West Side Story .") A very moving examination of identity and the making of a meaningful adult life that resonates profoundly for people of every sexual orientation. --Wendy Smith

The memoirs of Mary Rodgers—writer, composer, Broadway royalty, and “a woman who tried everything.” “What am I, bologna?” Mary Rodgers (1931–2014) often said. She was referring to being stuck in the middle of a talent sandwich: the daughter of one composer and the mother of another. And not just any composers. Her father was Richard Rodgers, perhaps the greatest American melodist; her son, Adam Guettel, a worthy successor. What that leaves out is Mary herself, also a composer, whose musical Once Upon a Mattress remains one of the rare revivable Broadway hits written by a woman. Shy is the story of how it all happened: how Mary grew from an angry child, constrained by privilege and a parent’s overwhelming gift, to become not just a theater figure in her own right but also a renowned author of books for young readers (including the classic Freaky Friday ) and, in a final grand turn, a doyenne of philanthropy and the chairman of the Juilliard School. But in telling these stories—with copious annotations, contradictions, and interruptions from Jesse Green, the chief theater critic of The New York Times — Shy also tells another, about a woman liberating herself from disapproving parents and pervasive sexism to find art and romance on her own terms. Whether writing for Judy Holliday or Rin Tin Tin, dating Hal Prince or falling for Stephen Sondheim over a game of chess at thirteen, Rodgers grabbed every chance possible—and then some. Both an eyewitness report from the golden age of American musical theater and a tale of a woman striving for a meaningful life, Shy is, above all, a chance to sit at the feet of the kind of woman they don’t make anymore—and never did. They make themselves.