Hey this was weird as shit! I read a lot of books. I read a lot of literary fiction. I don’t think I understood what was happening in this. But like, it was so intriguing?? It’s blunt and violent and jumbling. It’s based on a Guatemalan family so some of the dialogue is in Spanish. You can figure out a lot of it based on context clues, but I do feel that I didn’t get as much out of this book as I could have if I remembered any Spanish or came from a Latin background. The twists are so wild and fun. This is somehow a cult book, a magic book, AND a family book. Sometimes I felt that the sentence structure was a little wonky but it sort of fit the eclectic and foreign vibe of the whole story. The timeline hops back and forth a little bit and I had to retrace my steps a few times. Not sure if I can claim that I liked any of the characters other than Candelaria but I did care immensely about them liking each other. Some passages were blatantly funny and I love that the cult fronted as a cycling gym wellness center thing. There are some really good moments that reflected on motherhood, sisterhood, and girlhood in general. If you liked bunny but were looking for something more graphic and visceral, this is probably up your alley. I’ve got mixed opinions, but it was a fresh and interesting read with disturbing moments and a cool old lady character, and that’s all I’m really looking for. I might read it again further down the line.
This is a dark academia reimagining of Carmilla, the og sapphic vampire book. I felt that I was expecting too much from this text in the beginning. Once I nestled into the story and allowed it to voice itself, I was having a great time. I’m a huge fan of S.T. Gibson’s lyricism and although I don’t think this is quite up to the level of Dowry of Blood, it has many of its own moments. Gibson handles obsessions and power dynamics in such an interesting and graceful way. I’ve never encountered about her author that depicts them so violently and beautifully. This is advertised as dark academia which, by all accounts, it is on paper. The plot and setting shift largely away from the academic portion of the story quite early. It also has little to no consequence on the rest of the story. What makes this so riveting is how sweet and chaotic and intrinsic the character relationships are to each other and the story as a whole. The two main characters are bright, clumsy, and full of youth. Which is a delectable contrast to their elder and wizened counterpart. I enjoyed this thoroughly and would likely read it again! However, if I was to recommend Gibson I would reach for Dowry.
This was recommended as a Weird Book by a creature that I respect. I, however, cannot agree with that categorization. There is nothing weird or odd about the events that take place in this book. Everything that happens is disgustingly realistic. It is not only possible, it is happening right now in several
places under our nose all over the US. This isn’t a weird book, it is an unsettling one. I enjoyed the protagonist’s voice and the author’s incredibly jaunty writing style. The beginning of the tale pulled me in for the ride! As we continued, I wanted out. The content was different from what I had been expecting and I found myself disappointed and repulsed as opposed to intrigued. The pacing jumps between the current events of the dinner taking place and anecdotes from throughout the protagonist’s life in a way that works for a large part of the text but, in others, is tedious on the part of the reader. I imagine I would have enjoyed this more if I liked a single character involved. I don’t think this book is bad by any means. It wasn’t for me.
I started this with low hopes, expecting another book about the problems of a mediocre white woman. I was gleefully wrong. The cast is, in fact, all white people so I can’t say anything about that. HOWEVER, this story follows four different people at the same prestigious art college and I have never been so compelled by characters before. It’s not that they’re particularly interesting or dynamic, but the entirety of the book is written like you’re following four humans. I understand that that sounds obvious and simple, but what I mean is that these characters don’t do or say things for plot. They aren’t aware of what the others are doing or saying; they don’t rely on another character to propel them forward. They are simply living. Every choice, action, reaction, and emotion is done in a way that feels like you are watching them live. They aren’t pushing plot or emotional development, they’re doing what I do every day. I found myself enraptured in the unfolding of events and could feel myself grieve when I reached the end. I went into this COMPLETELY blind and found what was truly a surprise gem. For those that need more enticing: gay. And they were roommates!
When I was looking to cleanse my palette of the thousand page, high fantasy, political intrigue book I’m currently struggling with, I had imagined myself with a cozy, witty, trashy romance book. In no way was I expecting this small-town true-crime podcast detective book to fill that hole for me. Life works in mysterious ways. Is this the best book I’ve ever read? No. But sometimes I’m not looking for the world’s most impactful piece of literature. I don’t necessarily always want wagyu steak. Sometimes I just need some fucking Mac and cheese. And this book? This is Annie’s shells and white cheddar, baby.
I was concerned about the podcast formatting, but it switches between Lucy’s POV and the podcast episodes. Which, surprisingly, largely propel the plot forward. The characters in this are incredibly entertaining which overshadows how one dimensional some of them are. This is Tintera’s adult fiction debut and although you can feel the young adult fiction roots in the writing, this gives it room to be whimsical and downright funny. Some stuff felt gimmicky, but ended up panning out surprisingly well. BIG fan of the grandma in this story. Although I have mixed feelings about the ending, I find that mysteries as a genre struggle to pin an answer that is a satisfying culmination of the last 300 pages. Simply put, you cannot please everyone. But I am quite pleased and would totally read this again.
This is entirely about a group of four Korean women living in New York and the intricacies of their culture and social lives. I love me a society gossip book. It holds a magnifying glass to a lot of beauty and success standards in Asian culture, but also somehow ended up being a touching story about women finding themselves and deciding their worth. I read so many books where the central characters are white, that it always hits me like a ton of bricks when I see experiences or traditions I can relate to reflected back to me in the pages. I’m glad I read this! However, it didn’t leave enough of an impression for me to read again.
This is a good romcom. I laughed, I cried, I wished the characters were less human and more fiction so that I could be mad at them for sucking. Incredible gender-swapped Harry Met Sally vibes. It was a bit more crass than I would have liked, but as a former improv kid? I love the representation. Good cozy fun, would absolutely read again. I did bawl my eyes out. More romances should end with being proposed to with a cock ring.I will be purchasing a physical copy. This is advertised as enemies to lovers but it’s hardly even rivals to lovers idk why the industry keeps doing this. It’s good on its own! You don’t have to trigger-word advertise it!
I adore literary fiction because I truly do not care if anything happens in a book. I’m so interested in characters and weird relationships that it doesn’t matter to me if the plot is lacking. The concept of the main character allows for the author to dig into situations and areas of human emotion/interaction that is harder to dig your heels into otherwise. It was a quick read, I was taken by the story enough to start and keep going until it stopped. A lot of people found this moving and impactful, but it was really missing that je ne sais quoi for me! I thought we would reach it in the end, but alas.
The first half of this I really enjoyed! This fall into a cultish existence where moral judgement becomes entirely skewed through the seek of something higher is entirely up my alley. The characters were diverse and intriguing. Although slower than what I typically prefer, I was willing to allow Miss Donna her lengthy asides. The use of literary devices throughout the work is expert. She’s wonderful at showing and not telling, which is something I thoroughly enjoy in an author. All that being said, Book 2 sucked. It was over dramatic, frustrating, and parts of the plot felt incredibly lazy. It hinges entirely on the trait of a character that was barely even alluded to in Book 1. If looking at a wiki page or summary of the contents of The Secret History, it would seem like an exciting and wild topsy turvy story of collision after collision within a corrupt group of people. However, at a certain point, the author’s writing becomes so drawn out and irrelevant that you entirely lose the thrill of the interesting events in the expanse of the dull. There are several characters and instances that are thrust into the reader which have no effect on anything in the slightest and also never come up again. The author low key talks shit about the only relevant female character the entire book. The main protagonist is incredibly uninteresting and sort of a dick. Every other character is undeniably a dick and they all suck, but at least they’re interesting. There was so much classism and misogyny that wasn’t really justified by the context. The author? Sort of? Give the same weight of absurdity to both gayness and incest?? So much of this was head spinning. Am I glad I read it? Sure. I can understand, from a wide lens, why this book garners the reputation that it does. However, looking directly at it I shall never read it again or ever recommend it to anyone else.
There is an incredibly niche sub-genre of book that I enjoy, which I lovingly refer to as “crooked girlhood.” These are stories that clearly display the diabolical, perverse, and primal side of a feminine childhood. The unseen oddities of growing up in a panopticon of gender. Jawbone is, perhaps, the clearest example of this that I have found to date. It is feral and horrifying but, also, simply a group of schoolgirls. The story itself jumps between timelines and POVS, which I am not typically a fan of. I struggled with the character names for a good third of the book but this was likely because I was listening as opposed to reading. Ojeda paints unsettling scenarios that have little motive behind them, not to the fault of the author, but because young girls act on whim: there doesn’t need to be more reason than the desire to do it. The story begins with a girl waking tied up, having been kidnapped by her teacher. We follow the stories of both teacher and student that led us here. I found the relationships in this to be incredibly well depicted, but something about the lack of true consequence in any scenario leaves something to be desired. Although the ending is interesting, it didn’t go far enough in either direction of cathartic or appalling for me to feel satisfied. I do think I would read this again, but I wasn’t wowed.