@RemusLupinsBiggestGroupie I can't personally recommend either of them but apart from Theroux, people speak highly of Eric Newby and Normal Lewis. I have a couple of books by each of them on the shelf, might turn to those myself as part of my 6 months of RWYO.
12 Black and Blue, Anna Quindlen
A police officer's wife flees an abusive marriage to live in anonymous Florida with her young son. They've been smuggled away by a women's network and given new names. As she starts to make connections and form relationships in her new town, "Beth" becomes increasingly blase about the risk of her violent husband finding her.
Like The Names, the most disturbing thing about this believable tale is how mundane the violence is.
13 Dream Count, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
I love Adichie. I love how beautifully and fluently she writes, I love how she observes the things that people say to one another that reveal how they see themselves and others: the interactions between men and women, black and white, African and non-African. She's a master of showing not telling, using these exquisitely imagined (often very funny) interactions to show us who her characters are.
That said, I tend to agree with a verdict that I saw on Goodreads, that Adichie is a great writer but not always a good storyteller. This latest book was enjoyable but felt kind of formless to me. Three wealthy friends drift back and forth from Nigeria to the US (and further afield as their money encourages plentiful travel), meandering in and out of unsatisfying relationships, complaining about their lives while self-consciously recognising their privilege. It was all extremely readable (I do love the way she writes awful men) but I found myself thinking "So what? what's this actually ABOUT?"
Alongside this, Adichie includes a fourth character, closely inspired by Nafissatou Diallo, the woman who accused Dominique Strauss-Kahn of sexual assault. I found the imagined part of her life story leading up to the assault to be engaging, and the way Adichie writes about the assault and its aftermath fills you with horror and anger that such a thing could happen and be handled the way it was (I know that the charges against DSK were not upheld, but if it didn't happen to Nafissatou Diallo, then it has surely happened to other vulnerable young women at the hands of powerful men). It's an important topic, to be sure, but I felt unsure of Adichie's right to use this woman's story in her novel, even in a fictionalised form. I didn't like her choice to impose a made-up "happy ending". And it made the travails of her other three pampered protagonists seem all the more lightweight by comparison.
A disappointing read for me, as I count Half of a Yellow Sun and Americanah as two of my favourite books of all time.