The Colorado Sun’s SunLit desk curates a summer reading guide that functions as a marketing sales funnel, leveraging local authors like Claire Boyles and Nina McConigley to drive frictionless book purchases.

The air in the Delta County library stacks is still, smelling of dust and aging paper. Outside, the high desert heat bakes the asphalt on Main Street, turning the commute into a slow, sticky crawl. Inside, the ceiling fans cut through the humidity, pushing warm air down toward the fiction section where Claire Boyles’ name hangs on the display.
It’s summertime. The reading is easy. Finding an interesting title is too.
That’s the pitch from the Colorado Sun’s SunLit desk. They’re pushing a 2026 summer reading guide that claims to offer "sheer literary abundance." It’s a collection of recommendations from Colorado-connected authors, curated for folks who finally have the time to slip between the covers of a novel. Or a history book. Or whatever excites your intellect this July.
The guide isn’t just a list. It’s a sales funnel disguised as cultural enrichment. Links are provided. You click, you buy, you expand your personal library. The implication is that buying these books is the only way to access the "imaginative and compelling selections" the authors have provided.
Take Nina McConigley. She’s recommending her own new book, "How to Commit a Postcolonial Murder." It’s a 2026 release. The blurb promises a confession from a tween narrator named Georgie who, alongside her sister Agatha Krishna, has murdered their uncle. It’s set in the heart of Wyoming. It deals with colonial history, family dynamics, and the "complicated alliances" of sisterhood. The guide claims it’s "delightfully funny" for anyone who grew up in the 1980s.
That’s a specific demographic hook. It targets people who remember the pop culture of their youth and want to see it reflected in a story about murder. It’s a tight loop. You buy the book to remember who you were; you read the book to understand who you are now.
Then there’s Nancy Foley. She’s offering "I Am Agatha," a novel set in rural New Mexico. It follows a woman named Agatha through a late-in-life romance that challenges her commitment to solitude. The guide notes the character was inspired by real-life painter Agnes Martin. Foley’s prose is described as "striking and evocative." It’s a story about secrets best left buried, told through a "wry, unsparing voice."
And Claire Boyles? She’s a writer, teacher, and former sustainable farmer. She lives in Loveland. Her short story collection, "Site Fidelity," was featured in SunLit. Her first novel, "Appraisals," drops in August. You can preorder it now. The guide nudges you to buy it before it’s even out.
The short version: The Sun is leveraging its relationship with local authors to drive sales. It’s a symbiotic loop. The authors get exposure. The newspaper gets content. You get a list of excuses to spend money on books you might not otherwise pick up.
It’s not a bad thing. Reading is good. Supporting local authors is good. But let’s be clear about what’s happening here. This is a curated shopping list. The "literary abundance" is a marketing term. The "extended time for slipping between the covers" is a seasonal promise that expires when school starts in August.
The guide includes links. It includes bios. It includes excerpts. It’s designed to make the purchase frictionless. You don’t have to hunt for these titles. You don’t have to wait for them to arrive. You click, and they’re in your hands.
That’s the real story. Not the murder in Wyoming. Not the romance in New Mexico. It’s the ease of the transaction. The summer reading guide is a tool. It turns your idle time into revenue.
The weather is getting hotter. The school year is ending. The books are waiting. The question isn’t whether you’ll read. It’s whether you’ll buy the ones they told you to.





