Mendell Station

In Hwang’s striking and understated debut, a Korean American woman becomes a mail carrier in San Francisco, hoping the work’s solitary nature will help her deal with her grief. Miriam, 33, has been teaching scripture at a Christian high school and remains devout to the faith she grew up in, unlike her best friend Esther, who nevertheless still accompanies Miriam to church. The two became close as teens, and Esther helped Miriam through a rough patch in college. After Miriam learns Esther has died from a two-story fall, she quits her job at the high school and loses her faith. She dives headlong into her new job and begins writing letters to Esther, in which she reveals a mild attraction to her friend and recounts her monthslong obsession with sex following her dad’s death when she was in college. Much of the narrative describes her daily routine carrying mail, which mirrors the ebb and flow of the grieving process (a small triumph in the form of a new uniform, the devastating anxiety of a deluge of packages). Along the way, Hwang delivers glimmering insights into the nature of grief (“A loss didn’t happen just once; every day afterward was a day the lost ones weren’t there”). This leaves a mark. (July)