There’s something to be said for literary lightness.

Sure, sometimes we like to delve into dense tomes packed with esoteric vocabulary and deep themes and complicated plotting, all wound together in a stylistic experiment. “Great” literature and all that. But there’s value in relative simplicity when it comes to books.

Please do not conflate simplicity with simplistic, however – that’s not what I’m talking about. I just believe that there can be just as much merit to a breezy read as you’ll find in something with ostensibly loftier aspirations.

“Flying Solo” (Ballantine, $28), the new novel from Linda Holmes, is very much the former … and that’s a good thing. This is a book about a woman who returns to her hometown out of the twin senses of love and obligation. The reasons for her return are steeped in sadness, but as her stay proceeds, she finds herself learning more about the people she loves … and about herself.

As she stands at the crossroads of her old life and her new one, she is struck by the dichotomy of past and possibility – represented in this case by a relic from one person’s history whose deeper meaning is both obvious and opaque. To wit: it means something, but she’s not certain what. And we’ve all been there, yes?

It’s that time of year when everyone is on the lookout for their next summer read. And what could be better for a summer read than a story that involves the summer game?

Linda Holmes – perhaps best known as the host of NPR’s excellent “Pop Culture Happy Hour” podcast – has written her first novel. Titled “Evvie Drake Starts Over” (Ballantine Books; $26), it’s the story of two people, each lost in their own way, finding solace in one another’s unexpected company – solace that begins as friendship, but gradually develops into something else.

It’s a charming and engaging story that also proves willing to look at loss and how that can mean different things to different people. The way we mourn – and what we choose to mourn – can vary wildly. Sometimes we wish to be helped. Sometimes we wish to be held. And sometimes, we simply wish to be left alone.

There are few bonds as close as those that exist between brothers. And some fraternal bonds transcend even the typical, creating a tight-knit relationship built on an intimacy that no outsider could possibly fully understand.

It’s that latter dynamic that impacts every page of “Like Brothers” (Ballantine, $28) by Mark and Jay Duplass. The Duplass Brothers – patron saints of bootstrap DIY indie filmmaking – have been one of the most fertile and interesting creative partnerships of the 21st century. Their considerable talents in numerous aspects of filmmaking – acting, writing, directing, producing, you name it – helped, of course, but it’s the passion, ambition and determination inherent to their partnership that truly led to their success.