A Room Called Earth is a book that I could call home while I read it. I slipped off all my protective layers, let the mask fall, and felt entirely safe and held by this satisfyingly singular story where a woman just exists, as she is, for the entire thing. The character’s state of being is neither good nor bad, but it felt so eerily unattainable to me that I longed to stay closer to her beyond the pages her story spanned.