September has this unique quality of feeling like everything is happening all at once; maybe it’s everyone’s return to reality from whatever dreamland holiday they ran off, maybe it’s the back to school season or maybe it’s the proximity to the end of the year. In any case, our team kicked off autumn with busy schedules and many exciting projects in the works. However, in between emails, calls and running around our respective cities, we each sat down to write our September recommendations and reflect on what they taught us. Julie takes us on a journey through Elif Shafak’s latest novel, where water itself becomes the protagonist, Frosso finds herself unraveling after a film that stayed with her for weeks, Gretchen shares the podcast that reminded her (and might remind you) to slow down, I rediscover London through the Open House Festival, and Zsofi brings Greece to the dinner table for one last night of summer.
Without further ado, here’s what the Lazy Women team has been reading, watching, listening to, doing, and (of course) indulging in lately.
READ
Julie is reading Elif Shafak ‘There Are Rivers in The Sky.’
I’ve never read a book where water was the main character — until this month.
Elif Shafak, the brilliant British-Turkish author and masterful storyteller (whom I had the chance to meet in Paris just a few weeks ago — still can’t believe it!) weaves together three stories across time and place: Arthur, a prodigy in Victorian London; Narin, a Yazidi girl in Turkey with an ancient generational gift; and Zaleekhah, a hydrologist based in London. Their lives are all bound by water, beginning with a single raindrop on the River Thames that ripples outward into a vast, interconnected narrative.
Shafak plays with time in this novel, drawing on both its classical definitions — chronos and kairos. The story flows non-linearly, moving between characters and across years. But don’t let that intimidate you; the plot is easy to follow.
Beyond being a captivating read, ‘There Are Rivers In The Sky’ raises urgent questions about water scarcity in the Middle East, while also connecting it to themes of gender inequality, climate crisis, and sexual violence. I loved how seamlessly these weighty issues were woven in — never heavy-handed, but explained clearly.
Immigration, love of knowledge, memory, language — so many themes struck a chord with me. And as a linguist and translator, I especially appreciated the novel’s deep engagement with the Epic of Gilgamesh, which feels like a character of its own here. If you’re unfamiliar with it, it’s one of the oldest surviving works of literature, inspiring countless stories for millennia. Its decipherment was a milestone for historians, linguists, and Assyriologists alike.
If the book’s length makes you hesitate, I understand — it’s nearly 500 pages. But I promise you, I barely noticed the time passing, so fully immersed was I in its world. Reading it felt like slipping into a warm bath: restorative, slow, impossible to leave.
So — pour yourself a glass of water, and let There Are Rivers in the Sky carry you away.
P.S.. A quick note of appreciation for the cover — the golden drops match the blue and white beautifully.
WATCH
Frosso is watching Sentimental Value.
It doesn’t happen often that a film stays stuck in my mind for this long after watching it. Yet here I am: what started as an impromptu movie night out with the girls turned into a two-hour debrief about why each one of us burst into tears at the end of it (and believe me when I say the reasons were surprisingly different). Three weeks later, I’m still thinking about it — so much so that I HAD to bring it up with my therapist, who looked a bit clueless as I insisted that, omg, my dad is basically Stellan Skarsgård’s character: a less artsy, less rich, and less popular Greek version of him, but still very endearing in all his complexity.
I didn’t read any reviews afterwards, even though that’s usually one of my favorite post-movie rituals. I knew what people might find wrong with it, a bit too cheesy here, a bit too forgiving there. And yes, it might feel uncomfortably close to home for anyone who’s experienced the frustration of having a parent who just doesn’t get it (or seems not to). But the very reasons the film makes you uncomfortable are also the reasons you’ll love it.
Sentimental value offers such a rich, multi-dimensional storytelling, weaving threads around delicate themes like generational trauma, the death of a parent, the unspoken bond between siblings, forgiveness, art as a language for what we can’t otherwise communicate, and I could keep going. Its complexity leaves plenty of room for interpretation, bouncing back quite unexpectedly on your own psyche and unresolved issues.
Special mention goes to the film’s silent protagonist: the perfect Nordic house, a heartbreaking reminder of all that could be but isn’t, an emotional catalyst even for the least sentimental.
LISTEN
Gretchen is listening to the Wiser Than Me podcast.
Two years ago I quit my first full-time job in politics with no plan. This job that I had worked so hard for, made me feel important and successful, and in a way I didn’t realize at the time, was feeding my ego. But sitting for hours in a gray cubicle with no natural light, working late with no compensation, and the typical American allotment of only 10 vacation days, was quietly killing my soul. I woke up every day dreading work, all my creative energy and wonder for the world sapped. By summer 2023 I hit a breaking point. I wouldn’t even say I decided to quit; it just came to the point where it was something I had to do.
Being unemployed did wonders for my mental health, but it also sent my sense of self into freefall. As a young person in America, I’d been told throughout school, media, society, that my worth was caught up in my professional success. And there I was: unemployed, no plan, no income, and, apparently, no self.
One day, while wandering aimlessly around my neighborhood, I stumbled across Julia Louis-Dreyfus’s podcast Wiser Than Me. Each episode, Julia chats with iconic older women about their careers, families, mistakes, regrets, and search for meaning. It’s not a novel concept, but Julia’s intimate, funny approach makes you feel like you’re sitting at their feet, learning.
That day I found an episode with my all-time favorite author, Isabel Allende. At the end of every episode Julia asks what advice her guests would give their 21-year-old selves. Allende’s answer felt like a deeply personal call out:
“Calm down. Calm down for God’s sake. You don’t have to do everything. You don’t have to do so much. Give yourself some time. Be more compassionate with yourself. I was merciless with myself, demanding, and I treated myself as I would never treat anybody else. And I would say stop it. That’s not worth it.”
Listening to that didn’t magically dissolve my fear about the future, but it planted a seed. Over time, I began untangling my ego from the need to succeed at all costs. I learned to let myself rest, to notice, to love, and to revel in the sweet slowness life can offer.
Two years later, I still return to this podcast whenever I need perspective — when I’m spiraling about a final paper, a work project, a fight with my sister. In our modern life, we lack the perspective that once came from living in multi-generational communities. We rarely face aging up close or get the privilege of seeing our own lives reflected through the eyes of those at the end of theirs. In its own small way, Wiser Than Me fills that gap. If you ever need a good laugh, a cry, and permission to just breathe, give it a listen.
DO
Teodora is going to the Open House Festival.
When I think of my first year in London, 18 and far away from home for the first time, it feels slightly like all my memories are distorted- the city is cartoonishly large, the streets are reminiscent of a choose-your-own-adventure scenario and I wander around somewhere between exaltation and displacement.
While not unaccustomed to cities -I grew up in Bucharest, the capital of Romania- London seemed bigger than life, hiding something behind every corner. Most days, alongside my UCL student card, I also carried around this gut wrenching fear that I would always be a stranger in a strange land, that perhaps one day the unknown streets would swallow me whole and I would have no clue how to make it back to my halls. Or, better put, I would never be home again. 6 years on, I marvel at myself at 18; instead of my anxiety riddled teenage self, I look back and see the bravery it took to start my adult life far away from all that was familiar and safe, to search for myself in that looming city that was everything and nothing at the same time. These days, I am not ashamed to admit that I am searching for that bravery again and am trying to find every opportunity to look at London with those wonder-filled eyes I recognise in all the pictures from my first year of university.
That being said, it was common sense really, to add London’s yearly Open House Festival here. It’s a week-long celebration of the city’s most remarkable homes, architecture and landscapes, and a chance to learn about London’s unique heritage and communities. From that building you pass on your daily commute and always find yourself wondering what secrets it might hide behind its doors to places you had no idea existed, the festival has something for everyone.
If, like me, you are trying to rediscover the city and play tourist for a couple of days, then the Open House Festival is unmissable. I, for one, am enthusiastically looking forward to next year’s programme and can’t wait to find out something new about one of the cities I now call home.
INDULGE
Zsofi is dreaming of One More Night in Greece.
Recently, I traveled to Greece for the very first time, and I was utterly enchanted by the people’s generosity and their deep love for truly great food. Since returning home, I’ve been reminiscing about the dishes I enjoyed in Thessaloniki, and I’ve set my mind on recreating them – one last taste of a summer that already feels too far away.
So, I invite you to join me: let’s throw a Greece-themed dinner party and bring back those warm summer vibes for one more night. What will I be making, you ask? Tzatziki, Greek salad, and saganaki (aka deep-fried feta yum!) are certainly on the menu, but the recipes will come straight from an incredible Instagram account, Home.Alexandras, I’ve been following with mouth-watering recipes and manically saved.
Καλή όρεξη!
Contributions by Julie Antropova, Frosso Papanastasiou, Gretchen Blackwell, Teodora Strugaru & Zsofi Borsi.
Curated & edited by Teodora Strugaru.
