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jefferz's reviews
132 reviews
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
3.0
Carrying over majority of Kingfisher’s original cast characters outside of Edgar Allen Poe’s (with the exception of Dr. Denton who is apparently featured as a main character in the upcoming 3rd novella due to be published next year), What Feasts At Night benefits from all of the exposition and Gallacia world-building that was previously introduced in the first book. I had previously critiqued how the first book’s start felt too slow due to the numerous tangents referencing Easton’s home country that felt irrelevant to that book’s story. However, with all of the exposition previously covered, it allows this book to start with its own story from the get-go, immediately establishing the quiet and eerie ambiance attributed to the lodge’s remote and isolated location. Like What Moves the Dead, this story also has unsettling “horror” elements that are explored using a fairly grounded approach, with science and superstitions that feel appropriate for the time period. This shared the same strengths of the first book with Easton’s character/no-nonsense narration (always appreciated vs the typical over-reactive horror protagonist), humor, and immersive storytelling.
Unlike the first entry, this one didn’t have source material to work off of and while I found the story to be generally well done, I felt that this one was a bit overwritten for its fairly sparse plot. As colorful and well thought out Kingfisher’s details of Gallacia were, I constantly wished that the book would focus on the core story as the pacing felt quite slow and unfocused for two thirds of the book. There’s a good deal of “In Gallacia, we do this, we do that, etc etc” which unfortunately started to get repetitive for me. However, I suspect that there wouldn't have been enough content and story to pad out the full novella length without the added embellishments. That being said, although I personally was less invested in Gallacia and Easton’s sworn soldier plot threads compared to the horror angle, other readers might find the material more interesting. Unlike the first book that quickly foreshadows the spooky entity and situation at play, this one doesn’t mention its focal hallmark until 50 pages in, then their first full appearance at page 88. Normally I’m all for slow burn stories but when the entire book is only 147 pages (for the hardcover first edition), I need a stronger hook or more foreshadowing.
My other biggest gripe that other reviewers have previously commented on is despite being listed as a horror novella crossing over with fantasy, there’s really only about 30 pages of true horror content that occurs in one condensed sequence. Compared to What Moves the Dead’s more consistent horror distribution and pacing, this one felt imbalanced and end-heavy. The rest of the book mostly pushes a sedatephobia angle (silence) and cultural superstition that left me a bit underwhelmed and uninterested from a horror-standpoint. What Moves the Dead also had a good amount of gothic flavor due to Poe’s original decrepit estate setting and base characters that heightened Kingfisher’s original ideas, flavor that I found to be notably lacking in this story. I also felt that while the cover & jacket art design and title was stylistically a perfect compliment to the first book, they felt like poor representations of the book’s content. Without going into too much details and spoilers, “Feasting at night” sort of makes sense in a liberal abstraction interpretation but the eroding horse reference on the cover was such a very brief scene in this book that wasn’t particularly relevant compared to how noteworthy the rabbits and mushrooms were in their book’s plot.
Overall I thought Kingfisher’s followup to the solid first Sworn Soldier entry was well-written, though it definitely left me quite underwhelmed and wanting more at its conclusion. It’s hard to compared the two books since the first one utilized famous, critically-acclaimed material as its base vs this one that was fully original, so I’m definitely willing to give her upcoming third entry a shot; an added bonus is a foreboding abandoned mine is a much more interesting setting to me than a rural hunting lodge. I think this novella is ultimately worth a read for those looking for slightly eerie vibes with late 19th century embellishments. However, for mainstream horror or more intense reads, I would probably recommend looking elsewhere.
Moderate: Animal death, Body horror, Cursing, Death
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.0
Part unsolved crime journalism, part familial teenage drama, Julie Clark’s The Ghostwriter is a split perspective thriller featuring storytelling within storytelling. Slow and meticulously paced, this novel follows author Olivia Dumont who is forced to confront her past and her family’s dark history when she accepts a ghostwriting job for her own father Vincent Taylor, a popular and famous author whose life is haunted by accusations that he murdered his two siblings fifty years ago. Featuring a well planned out (and at times tragic) story full of twists and surprises, The Ghostwriter is an engrossing read that transports the reader back to the 1970’s. While subjectively some of the familial drama and teenage sibling quarreling wasn’t my preferred genre or content, I still found Clark’s novel to be well-constructed, complex, and an interesting read.
Alternating back and forth between Olivia’s interviews with Vincent retelling events from his youth and the first-person perspective experiences of several characters in the 1970’s, The Ghostwriter has a lot of different plot elements carefully woven together. Despite being recapped out of chronological order and often out of context, the story and plot are easy enough to follow and start in familiar, well-covered territory. Thrillers utilizing a writer recapping past horrific events seems to be growing into its own trope as of late but Clark’s novel sets itself apart from the rest through its visual portrayal of Ojai, California in the 1970’s as well as its engrossing storytelling. Within the novel itself, Olivia acknowledges how good of a storyteller her father is and I fully concur. Vincent’s (and via his narration, Clark’s) tone in the early interviews with his daughter Olivia were a highlight for me and I found the first half of the book to be a page-turner. The pacing, balance of exposition and visual details, the small town valley feel of Ojai, I loved it. Vincent’s oral recaps to Olivia are followed by his experiences written in first-person perspective as they occur in real-time in the 70’s. These experiences initially are exclusive to Vincent but eventually grow to also include Danny and Poppy, Vincent’s two siblings that were murdered. Clark uses the unreliable narrator perfectly, adding layers to Vincent’s story as well as purposefully muddying the details. Olivia questions whether what she’s told is true or a lie, whether her father’s deteriorating mental cognition is at play, or if he misinterpreted what he experienced. As Danny and Poppy’s perspectives are added and as Olivia investigates further in the present, the details and timelines increasingly conflict and nothing makes sense (completely by design).
As the book transitions into its 2nd half, the focus starts to shift more heavily towards the past and the family/friend dynamics in Ojai. Dysfunctional, unhealthy, and full of miscommunication, the back half of the book and events in the 1970’s consists almost entirely of relationship drama, teenage angst, and conflict. While the content was elaborate, well-written and narratively quite strong, familial drama isn’t my cup of tea and I found my interest waning despite the strong narrative developments (I picked this is up based on my interest in the unreliable narrator and crime investigation aspect, the teenage familial relationship emphasis wasn’t prominently mentioned in the synopsis). The second half of the book also features Olivia doing more traditional investigating via remaining living Ojai residents which I found to be less engaging and more typical for the thriller genre compared to Vincent’s great storytelling. This section of the book also has more of a focus on Olivia herself with her partner Tom, her estrangement with both of her parents, and the damage to her literary career, content that is objectively good but unfortunately wasn’t as interesting to me. The book also doesn’t reveal the most crucial plot twists until the last 40 pages or so (this last section recapturing the page-turning interest of the first half of the book) but when it does, it’s quite satisfying. The book’s conclusion and reveal of what Olivia ultimately believes happened, I thought was well done and though I fully guessed the ending and the plot twist reveals (a mix of well-placed clues/foreshadowing and my familiarity with crime procedurals), I can see many readers being caught off guard by the true events that happened on that unfortunate June 1975 evening.
While the overall story is well written and conceptualized, I felt the book slightly suffered from the unlikable character syndrome apart from Poppy who has all the heart and soul in the book. Clark’s characters are deeply flawed and many are quite judgmental (apart from Olivia, consistent with the socio political atmosphere of the time), which can make them both interesting to read about yet somewhat difficult to like (I found myself often at odds with Olivia’s choices and mentality personally). However, the characters have layers to them and are eventually revealed to all be dealing with their own demons internally.
While Olivia and the main Taylor siblings are well covered, I would’ve liked to see more character development for Lydia due to her prominent connection to the murders in the past and to Olivia in the present. The Ghostwriter portrays each of the Taylors as their dynamics and relationships change, often exacerbating the stress of each other. However, the story largely omitted Lydia’s personality early in the story, lacking the basis to show how her character was affected over the course of the book's events. Compared to other characters that have more moments and attention, the reader is simply told how different she was prior to the events in the 70's. The lack of focus on her character also affected the impact of Olivia’s discoveries of her in the present and the book never really explains why she left and cut-off Olivia when she was a child (not to mention her separation from Vincent). I also found Olivia’s relationship and dynamic with Tom to be another weak spot due both Tom’s character and his relationship being bland and shallow. I acknowledge that Olivia’s partner has very little to do with the core story so I don’t necessarily fault the book for not spending much time exploring their relationship, but their miscommunication and relationship often feels like a minor distraction from the book’s more compelling content.
Despite some of the 2nd half of the book not necessarily being my preferred genre/content and minor reservations on certain plot elements, I still appreciated how detailed The Ghostwriter was. Well-written and well-plotted, I thought this was a great slow burn type of thriller full of vignettes that really takes you back to the 70’s (or so I would imagine had I been alive back then-). Unrelated to the story, the book cover and graphic art is outstanding both from a design and narrative standpoint.
Moderate: Alcoholism, Animal death, Bullying, Cursing, Death, Drug use, Emotional abuse, Misogyny, Pedophilia, Rape, Sexual assault, Terminal illness, Toxic relationship, Violence, Abortion, Pregnancy, Gaslighting
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
At this point it goes without saying that the tone and humor of the series is pitched perfect for me and something I don’t really need to spend much time on (I would assume if you’re reading this review you must be familiar with the series or my past reviews unless you’re one of those chaotic and unhinged mid-series readers). Murderbot’s character voice and narration is always a joy, yet somehow Wells manages to one-up herself yet again:
There needs to be an error code that means “I received your request but decided to ignore you.”
Then there was Asshole Research Transport. ART’s official designation was deep space research vessel. At various points in our relationship, ART had threatened to kill me, watched my favorite shows with me, given me a body configuration change, provided excellent tactical support, talked me into pretending to be an augmented human security consultant, saved my clients’ lives, and had cleaned up after me when I had to murder some humans. (They were bad humans.) I really missed ART.
While still following the winning formula of Murderbot conducting preservation/bodyguard type of work with some sort of sidekick ally, Rogue Protocol manages to keep the concept fresh by introducing another bot referred to as “Miki”. Constructed for a different purpose with a distinctively different tone from Artificial Condition’s ART, Murderbot and Miki’s interactions are an entirely different flavor that introduces many more questions and subtleties involving bot constructs and programming behavior. Heavily linked to the Rogue Protocol’s plot, Miki’s character and contribution to this novella spurs new character development in Murderbot and introduces an emotional depth to the story that was mostly absent in the series first two entries:
"Or Miki was a bot who had never been abused or lied to or treated with anything but indulgent kindness. It really thought its humans were its friends, because that's how they treated it.
I signaled Miki I would be withdrawing for one minute. I needed to have an emotion in private."
As far as the plot is concerned, I found this book’s story and action to be much more in-line with the series’ first entry which was one of my nitpicks of the second book. Unlike the first two books which were set in locales featuring a mix of humans, augmented humans and bots, <i>Rogue Protocol</i> is set in the abandoned terraforming colony Milu. I have a fascination with urban exploring and abandoned locations and I found the setting to be both unique and exciting to read about. Compared to the first two novellas, Rogue Protocol felt more like a straightforward, tense sci-fi thriller and was much more action forward. My minor nitpicks of the story taking too long to get-going and being a bit dialogue-heavy in Artificial Condition were both directly addressed here and although I may be in the minority compared to other reviewers, I felt this entry had good pacing and no notable slow moments. The only minor point of improvement I had for this book was that at times, Murderbot’s movements in the colony of Milu could be potentially difficult for some readers to follow and keep track of (having read plenty of sci-fi adventure novels, this was fine for me personally). The book’s story and action also hits an emotional climax (at least for this action-filled series’ standard) at the end of the novella and then kind of abruptly ends without really covering Murderbot or its “clients” processing what just happened. I fully expect this to be followed up or lightly referenced in the next book knowing how good of a writer Wells is, but I would’ve liked the resolution to have been a bit longer or more in depth (mirroring my review of every other novella in this series, the material is so good I want more!).
Overall though I thoroughly enjoyed Rogue Protocol and this third entry has cemented this series as a must-read for me, more than justifying its popularity and devoted following. The fact that this third book utilized more plot elements introduced in All System’s Red implies Exit Strategy is only going to be even more involved and developed if it continues in the same direction.
Moderate: Cursing, Death, Violence
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
4.0
Clocking in at around 160 pages, <i>What Moves the Dead</i> is an easy to read novella that’s self-contained and straightforward. However unlike the original story that leaves a lot open to interpretation, T. Kingfisher attempts to fill-in and answer a lot of the unknown factors that Poe never explicitly addressed. A common point of criticism about most horror mansion/estate tales is questioning why the narrator doesn’t leave once they begin to encounter unsettling experiences. She addresses this by directly having the narrator Alex Easton summoned by Roderick Usher via a letter and greatly expanding their friendship and backstories with their time serving during wartime. In Poe’s story, the motive behind Roderick’s actions as well as Madeline’s increased presence and visual depictions make the novella feel like a more well-rounded and complete story vs the original’s focus on the claustrophobic and imposing atmosphere. Unlike the original’s more supernatural elements, this version uses a more speculative science approach that aligns with late 19th century discoveries which I personally found interesting and quite effective, though I am far from a traditionalist who may find this interpretation deviates too liberally from the source material. Without giving away any spoilers, I was pleasantly surprised by the direction Kingfisher went with this novella and was impressed with how she was able to repurpose a lot of the original story’s key scenes and expand the scope of the story (though I do miss the iconic House of Usher “split” that obviously is hard to realistically portray outside of the fantasy genre).
My only small nitpick is that while this book was a page-turner for me from the 100 page mark onward, I found the read to be a bit slow after its opening two chapters. Apart from the introductions of both Poe’s original characters as well as Kingfisher’s additions, the first half of the book felt like the story veered off-course, heavily focusing on Alex’s history in Gallacia and self-referencing this country repeatedly (I spent way too long trying to figure out if Kingfisher’s Gallacia is one either of the real-world Galicia entities to no avail). While I liked the modern representation, exploration of Alex’s non-binary identity (obviously not referred to as such given the time period this is set in) and the world-building detailed added to flesh out the Narrator's character, I couldn’t help but feel like the focus and details were unnecessary and mostly irrelevant to the main story that disrupted the otherwise consistent pacing. It feels ironic to say considering the book is already so short, but at times the first half felt like the story was being padded out longer than it needed to be. Upon finishing the book, the excessive focus about Gallacia and Alex’s sworn soldier status felt like a heavy-handed approach to setting up what is now a series, and unnecessarily forcing details for future books into this one.
Despite some minor reservations, I thought <i>What Moves the Dead</i> was a solid and well-written short novella that is successful both as a modern retelling of a literary classic as well as a standalone reading experience (no knowledge of the source material is needed, though it is fun to see how the source material was utilized and reworked). Although the tone, sentence structure and vocabulary give the book its clear historic time and place, Kingfisher’s prose is still highly-accessible for contemporary readers while adding just the right amount of flavor. The fact that this book also isn’t too spooky or disturbing (relatively low graphic depictions apart from a brief dissection of a dead animal and mild body horror) also makes it an easy recommendation for readers looking for a horror book that’s not too intense. Also completely unrelated to the story, I thought the book’s cover, jacket art, design and endpaper art were beautiful and perfectly match the book’s contents and vibe (if you see the book in person or on a large resolution, it’s a rabbit laying on top of mushrooms and fungi rather than what I thought was a skeleton and exposed flesh, this book is not gory at all). This was one I was very thankful to be able to read in a printed hardcover edition rather than an ebook copy.
Graphic: Death
Moderate: Animal death, Body horror, Gore, Terminal illness, Blood, Grief, Alcohol
Minor: Suicide
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
4.5
While <i>All Systems Red</i> featured functional, albeit limited world-building that was just enough to be functional for its story, <i>Artificial Condition</i> greatly expands on the Murderbot universe and spends most of its first half setting the scene for what's to come later in the series. This story introduces several new types of bots, expands the scope of the series to other stations and moons, and introduces new characters for the hilariously dry and sarcastic Murderbot to interact with. One of my favorite elements of <i>All Systems Red</i> was Martha Well's great sense of humor and witty dialogue. <i>Artificial Condition</i> continues the humor and cranks it up a notch with the introduction of ART. Murderbot and ART's banter (or lack of) is a highlight that largely helps keep the exposition-heavy first half from dragging too much.
While <i>All Systems Red</i> felt like a reconnaissance and survival expedition, <i>Artificial Condition</i> switches up the formula with its core plot resembling a sort of secret agent infiltration on the run instead. While both feature Murderbot in a pseudo bodyguard type of role, <i>Artificial Condition</i> is far more dialogue-heavy and much lighter on action (limited to only two scenes near the end of the novella). While I liked the direction the series is heading, I felt that <i>Artificial Condition’s</i> bodyguard plotline was a bit underdeveloped and came into the picture too late compared to ART's introduction and the series world-building took up just as many pages. The combined plot elements involving Murderbot's past contract that went South with the for-hire job was a great story choice and it set up a lot of material for the series to explore in the future, but it just felt too short within an already short novella to fully work for me.
That’s pretty much all I have for this review. The content, humor and writing was all there and the entire short story felt well done, but it left me wanting more (an ironic situation considering I read this on a trip while I was in the middle of another novel that I was completely apathetic about). <i><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/6733852814" target="blank">All Systems Red</a></i> was a masterclass example for excellent pacing and cohesion and set the bar high for me while <i>Artificial Condition</i> felt slow in places and a bit unfocused. However, I’m almost certain the breadcrumbs deliberately placed in this novella will be used for bigger and more exciting developments in future installments and I already have its sequel <i>Rogue Protocol</i> already ready to go!
(side note: My original review commented about how refreshing ART was for Murderbot to play off of and its introduction here could allow entry #3 <i>Rogue Protocol</i> to takeoff from the get go faster. Unfortunately ART is a one-off character exclusive to <i>Artificial Condition</i> so that point is moot, oops!).
Moderate: Gun violence, Violence, Kidnapping, Murder
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.5
Smart, insightful, at times hilarious, not to mention ambitiously plotted, <i>The Grand Scheme of Things</i> is a smartly executed novel filled with discussions and critiques of the West End Theatre industry, as well as British society as a whole. Highlighting the unspoken (and nearly as often spoken) prejudice against immigrants and various minority groups, Warona Jay’s debut novel is filled with strong social commentary and feels entirely relevant and shines a spotlight on the unfairness based on one’s upbringing and background. Despite its premise and at times cutting observations, this novel has much more to offer with its story. It’s also a story of young adults discovering their self-worth, confidence, and realizing their own identities. And that is on top of the elaborate web of deception Neledi/Eddie and Hugo spin, and all of the intentional and unintentional effects it has on everyone and everything around them.
Admittedly contemporary fiction novels that have multicultural or ethnic themes are not usually my go-to genre, particularly those that include harsh criticisms (sometimes at the cost of the reading experience or characters). However, I feel like the <i>The Grand Scheme of Things</i> is perfectly pitched and has a nice mix of humor, nuance, and balance of perspectives and opinions to avoid spiraling into an emotionally-charged rage novel. A great deal of consideration clearly went into each included theme and when paired with Jay’s sophisticated yet accessible tone, the overall experience was satisfying and impressive. I’ve seen some other reviewers mention the vague similarities to R.F. Kuang’s <i>Yellowface</i>, but the direction Jay takes the story and the heavy references to British culture and politics makes this comparison moot and unnecessary. While certainly not required to enjoy or appreciate the novel, there is a good amount of British political/cultural references that enhances the read, not to mention the signature lowkey sarcastic British style of humor that I personally love.
On the obvious theme of perceived identity, the novel does a wonderful job of exploring not only the prejudice that comes with one's background, but also the complexity of the topic. Words can be interpreted at face value or as being ethnically charged, intentional or unintentional, well-meaning or a back-handed compliment; you can never really know. The fact that such a lengthy internal dialogue over a single sentence comment only stresses how touchy of an issue this is, an area that the novel hits home perfectly. There are multiple occasions where as a white, privileged, wealthy man, Hugo is uncertain what to do or say to not be perceived as insulting or demeaning. Sometimes there isn’t a right thing to say no matter one's intentions and I loved the way Jay highlighted and explored that concept. There’s also the debate whether success is attributed due to the novelty of being different or being pigeonholed into a certain role and expectation because of it. Or as a playwright of color, its assumed Eddie will write plays about Black character experiences due to her background (despite being raised in Britain) vs questions raised should she write about other ethnic or white experiences. These are all great points of discussion with no clear answers or solutions, but I appreciated the tone and thoughtful manner the novel explores these topics.
One of the biggest contributing factors to why I enjoyed this novel so much was largely due to its wonderfully balanced and flawed characters. I should’ve expected it given the way the book’s synopsis is structured to highlight both characters individually, but I was pleasantly surprised by how evenly the story was split between Eddie and Hugo. While Eddie’s playwriting aspirations are clearly the plot’s primary focus, I did not expect for Hugo to also have a compelling character journey. Eddie is portrayed as being confident in who she is, has largely accepted her perceived “uniqueness” for better or for worse, and has clear goals and direction in life. Hugo on the other hand is perfect foil for Eddie being viewed as conventionally attractive and marketable, popular and wealthy, but lost in both his professional and romantic life. While Eddie is passionate, emotional, but honest with her feelings, Hugo is instead presentable, golden retriever like, but emotionally distant and disconnected with what he wants. In a story involving societal and racial prejudice, it's easy to demonize characters like Hugo for having everything Eddie doesn’t have, but I found the level of restraint and exploration of their differences to be very impressive. At times it even feels like Jay purposely portrays Hugo in a more flattering light when inevitable miscommunication and conflicts occur, though certain open-ended aspects of the book’s conclusion may swing the balance back towards Eddie at the end. The two characters also have wonderful chemistry and found it incredibly refreshing that the book purposely did not go down a romantic route with those two that would’ve felt overdone and distracting. One of my favorite parts of the book was their initial random meeting and how the two characters perceived the situation and each other so differently. The way each character was able to provide the support and encouragement each other needed when no one else in their lives could I thought was both heartwarming and very well executed.
Another area that I thought the novel excelled in was its portrayal of the struggling artist and how taxing the journey can be. Eddie’s reactions to her early rejections, setbacks, conflicted jealousy of others succeeding, it felt spot on. Despite the obvious signs that their plan of deception will be a success, the book does a great job of portraying the hopelessness and despair of being unable to break into a heavily contested and gate-kept industry. And by switching between Eddie and Hugo’s perspectives, the unbalance is even starker to look at, enhanced by Jay’s fantastic writing and dialogue for talent agent Helen.
While I felt the plot and characters were the book’s best elements, there were a few notable points that held this back from being a perfect read for me. While the plot is well-done and the book packs a ton of content into a sub 300 page book, I felt the story had a noticeably slow start due to a heavy focus on Eddie’s strained family relationships and connection to Botswana at the beginning. While this is crucial context relating to Eddie’s identity and motives in her life, the exposition felt a bit heavy and detracted my interest in the book’s playwriting premise; I would’ve preferred this context more spaced out rather than all up front at once. There is also a major turning point mid-way through the story involving Eddie’s relationship with her girlfriend Blue that felt a bit jarring and awkward. As the plot progressed, this development started to make more sense and I acknowledge its purpose within the context of the overall narrative. However, its execution left a bit to be desired and essentially painted Eddie as the villain to her own story (which may or may not have been an intentional choice given the overall trajectory of the story). While I found the book’s conclusion to be largely satisfying (thankfully avoiding an out of character happily ever after or a complete Shakespearean tragedy that would be unpleasant to read), one of the open-ended aspects involving Hugo felt at odds with the chapters from his perspective immediately preceding it. While there was a recurring trend of miscommunication involving Hugo’s romantic developments and morals, it felt like there was a sense of resolution upon Nahid’s ending with Eddie. The way the last chapter from Eddie’s perspective tosses that out the window felt a bit unnecessary or could’ve been better set-up as opposed to happening off-screen/page during the multi-year time jump. And that’s an unfortunate negative mark on what I consider an otherwise excellent conclusion to an explosive and ambitious plot.
Despite some mild reservations and nitpicks in places, I was thoroughly impressed <i>The Grand Scheme of Things</i>. Not only was Warona Jay able to catch and keep my attention with themes and plot elements I ordinarily wouldn't have found interesting, she was able to carefully and thoughtfully balance the prejudice and injustice immigrant and minority groups face on a daily basis. I thought this was a wonderful and smart debut novel!
Graphic: Cursing, Racism, Classism
Moderate: Bullying, Misogyny, Lesbophobia, Toxic friendship, Alcohol
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
4.0
The main thing to consider with The Thursday Murder Club is whether a retirement home setting and reading about some sharp-minded seniors with too much time on their hands is something that’s interesting. I was initially thrown off at first by how nonchalant and silly the first 50 pages were. While I personally found the humor to be quite amusing, Richard Osman’s attempts at humor are very British, lowkey, and at times quite Dad-joke-esque. It’s a perfect pitch for me and is quite sarcastically smart at times, but it won’t work for everyone, especially those that favor more laugh out loud, modern trendy styled comedy. Once the first of several murders occur, the investigation follows a rough formula that balances investigation developments with various characters' day to day activities. The book also constantly shifts perspectives between its huge cast of characters between each chapter. I found Osman’s execution of this concept clever where some character perspectives are told in 3rd person, some in first person, some in the past tense, and even Joyce’s entire perspective conveyed via her diary in 2nd person perspective. The variety of tones and perspectives added a lot of interest to me in what could’ve been a repetitive and tiring read (there’s only so much of cozy that I can read through) and it helps differentiate who is who with varied mannerisms.
The cast of characters are quite diverse, though the obvious favorites are probably the four members of the senior Thursday Murder Club and the two police investigators they drag into their seemingly innocuous hobby. One thing I loved about this book was the unlikely pairing of Constable Donna De Freitas and DCI Chris Hudson. The buddy cop turned romantic pairing has been overdone to death and I loved the age and experience-gap coworkers to friends dynamic between the two of them. As for the members of the Thursday Murder Club, I liked the variety between the four of them who each brought unique skills to the investigation tables from their past careers and lives. While some activities are a bit of a stretch given their living arrangements, Osman at least makes an effort of plausibility given their backstories. Outside of the club, despite the cozy and initially casual air at the Coopers Chase retirement community, pretty much every other character has secrets and a history that somehow plays into events both in the present as well as in the early 2000’s and 1970’s (some being more successful than others).
However despite finding the character work to be a highlight, I felt that the book introduced far too many characters right at the beginning of the story which I can see being difficult to follow for casual readers. Some of the perspective jumps also didn’t feel like they contributed much to the overall story or further muddied the early chapters where it’s hard to tell who is who, particularly the spouses, partners, or friends in Coopers Chase (I comically confused two different senior men to be the same person and thought there was a love triangle going on). These early chapters are also quite slow and while I found the senior shenanigans quite funny, readers primarily looking for a page-turning murder mystery will find this disappointing or worse, a waste of time.
As the investigation progressed and past secrets were unearthed, The Thursday Murder Club started to feel a bit rocky and inconsistent to me. While varied in terms of reveals and locations, the overall mystery progressed quite slow and far more casual than I typically prefer. When the investigation was meant to be fun and silly, it was great (aka every time Elizabeth strikes deals to get information from the two police investigators). However, more dramatic moments or developments didn’t feel as confident or rewarding and were overall inconsistent in quality. Certain reveals such as the connection between three young men in a bar with piles of money was compelling and I liked what Osman did with their development and character growth (except one). Elizabeth and Stephen’s dynamic and character arc happening on the side of the main murder investigation was also one of my favorite parts of the story, particularly their connection to their comatose friend and past Murder Club member Penny. On the other hand, for every secret and backstory that felt well done and plotted, there were an equal number of those I found coming out of left field with either a lack of proper setup or just being a bit lackluster to read about. While clearly intended to be moving and dramatic, I found Father Mackie’s backstory and connection to Coopers Chase to be quite random, disconnected and poorly foreshadowed. While its placement late in the book helped it have more opportunities for exposition, Penny and John’s backstory and secrets also felt unexpected, and not in a twisted surprising way.
As far as the murder mystery and investigation is considered, I felt like the whole mystery was a bit of a mixed bag much the cast of characters. There were sections that I could not put down my ereader where it was an absolute page-turner only for it to be followed by a shift in perspective and focus that killed the momentum that was just building (the chapters from the perspective of the “villains” were not to my taste and dragged down the read). While there are some pretty clever plot twists and culprits are far from who you would likely expect, I felt that the overall investigation was too twisty and too much time and focus were spent on elaborate red herrings. Some of the intended red herrings and backstories felt far more compelling and developed than some of the actual motives for the murders. While all the the motives technically work and there’s no major plot holes (an accomplishment considering the size of its cast and scope of its intertwining narratives), some left a bit to desired or again, involved random new twists that were not set up well. While I liked Penny’s role in the story, her entire backstory was revealed on the fly at the same time as a major plot twist she was involved with, stealing away a lot of the impact it could’ve had if it was set up properly. The same could be said about the investigation’s connection to Cypress and a certain event in the early 2000’s. That whole arc and characters being killed while also relating to other characters felt quite messy and offhanded, again technically working on paper but often feeling like a wild goose chase or duck hunt. While far from bad, this awkward juggling of reveals did give me that debut novel kind of feel, which I’m sure Osman cleans up and improves in subsequent books.
Despite having some issues and being a bit letdown by the murder investigation’s rollout, the book’s tone and character banter were great. Despite death and murders, The Thursday Murder Club was entirely cozy and easy to read through. If all else fails, I thought Osman nailed the senior citizen meddling (both at the senior community and during their frequent outings) and loved the initial reason the Thursday Murder Club was even formed; senior citizens who are nosy and have too much time on their hands. Having a Grandmother who is in her 90’s that has some early signs of dementia, you can tell when she’s having a good day when she’s nosy and up to everyone else’s business. The way Osman plotted Elizabeth’s use of her senior image to mentally manipulate and investigate those around her was consistently clever, at times even brilliant. My personal favorite is a recurring gag where Elizabeth pretends to be a nun and throws out an unexpected “thank you father”. An early scene where Ron and Ibrahim feigning being mentally gone also had me rolling, especially since Ron is the mean and rough tough guy. Not all of the senior moments are played for laughs however, and while still being light and breezy, some of the more serious moments such as widows grieving their lost spouses were surprisingly heartfelt.
Although I found The Thursday Murder Club to be a bit of a mixed bag in terms of its plot and focal murder element (a potentially major deal breaker for crime junkie readers), I still enjoyed reading this book which was a perfect companion for my sick at home recovering reading days. Comfty, light-hearted and quite humorous, there’s a lot to like as long as one is not averse to British banter and sense of humor (most reviews calling this book boring probably didn’t get its humor). This is also a great recommendation for readers that are looking for a mystery novel but be put off or find darker violent murder cases difficult to stomach. While being far from perfect for me, I definitely plan to continue this series if not just to see the breadcrumbs of relationships Osman left at the end grow. People dramatically dying are just some extra added bonus points to the mix-
Graphic: Terminal illness, Religious bigotry, Murder
Moderate: Cursing, Drug use, Suicide, Violence, Dementia, Grief, Alcohol
Minor: Medical content
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
First and foremost, there are two important things that need to be discussed upfront which are potential deal breakers in this book. The first is Howard’s deliberate choice to forgo the use of quotation marks to designate when characters are speaking. This isn’t a pretentious, arbitrary choice, and it makes narrative sense with the story’s conclusion. While I barely noticed its omission, casual or speed readers will likely find this a major issue. The other potential deal breaker is related to the valley’s existence. While there is some in-universe folklore and history to how the valley and its time jumping neighbors function, the novel never explains why the phenomenon exists in the first place or how the speculative fiction elements came to be. The Other Valley has an incredible amount of detail and thought put into the ethics, limitations and dangers for a society capable of jumping through time, but the narrative is almost entirely a character life based story that uses the valley’s mechanic as a means for thoughtful reflection. The implications of the valley only really relate to its human inhabitants and society, what happens if a bird flies over the fence and into the next valley or how does the Conseil have endless records of future events (partially explained in the conclusion)? Certain logistics require a bit of suspense of disbelief in order for the premise to work. The book does not discuss much about the valleys themselves, so if that type of world-building is necessary to one’s enjoyment of its story, I would also recommend avoiding this book.
With those important points out of the way, let’s get into why The Other Valley is so good. From the get-go I was immediately impressed by Howard’s writing that has a very sophisticated and scholarly style. Even if I hadn’t read his author’s blurb ahead of time, it’s obvious that Howard is incredibly well-educated and his doctorate in Philosophy is evident everywhere in the book. This was clearly a book written for readers looking for a critically sharp and ambitious reading experience and not a casual comfort read. Interestingly, despite the occasionally advanced vocabulary used and the quiet storytelling, I found Howard’s writing to be beautiful and at times, quite moving. There was a good balance between points explicitly explained vs points implied by reading between the lines (perhaps heightened by the lack of quotations), and despite the reserved style, I found the overall experience to be incredibly heartfelt and effective. The whole experience screams quality and finesse, with a confidence that I find lacking in most debut novels. In summary, the style and delivery was pitch perfect for my taste.
Despite the time-traveling plot element, minor spoilers but there’s relatively little time-traveling actually done despite its large implications. Rather than a mystery thriller about Edme’s impending doom or a traditional time-traveling epic, The Other Valley’s plot is largely a coming of age story that addresses the insecurities experienced by both teenagers and adults. Yet it also avoids the expected Nicholas Sparks-esque tragic lovers arc and covers material often excluded in doomed love stories, that being life after loss. Odile’s uncertainty about her future apprenticeships/future, her conflicted feelings towards Edme, her aloofness and solitude compared to her fellow classmates, these are all relatable topics we’ve all experienced growing up. Divided into two parts, the 2nd half which jumps to Odile’s adult life ponders topics of missed potential, what if’s, reaching vs settling for what’s comfortable/easy, and the different ways one can experience and handle grief and regret. It’s rare for me to find a book that is successful at portraying both teenage and adult years in a relatable and compelling manner, but Howard pulls off both parts successfully, all told with a wistful air to it.
While the premise of time-traveling visitation was straightforward on paper, the tangible method of simply walking to the past or future and its potential to be infiltrated was surprisingly high-concept and unique in an otherwise heavily populated genre. Knowing that this story was foremost character-focused rather than plot-focused, I was pleasantly blown away by the ambition and execution of the plot as well! Without going into spoilers, I was constantly caught off-guard by numerous well-executed plot twists, and the story would consistently go in directions I would’ve never expected (which is hard to do considering this is one of my core reading genres). Odile’s testing for the Conseil I thought was incredibly clever, with the students tested with case scenarios to evaluate and discuss, fully utilizing and demonstrating the extent of the valleys’ capabilities. This was spaced out with teenage and coming of age content that was very well executed, material that I usually find tedious to read through. And just when I thought I knew where Odile was heading, the story pulls out a 180 twist at the ending of part 1, jumping straight into adulthood. It’s difficult to talk about the plot of part 2 without major spoilers for part 1, but part 2’s storyline was possibly even more wistful and heartfelt than part 1 that only adults in their early 30’s and onward will be able to fully experience. Interestingly enough, although I initially thought this would be a good recommendation for academically inclined teenage readers due to the content of part 1 being relatable, part 2’s concept and content cemented it firmly as an adult-only novel whose dramatic concluding impact will only land for those who have had more life experiences and years like Odile. I was also concerned that this book would focus entirely on Odile’s loss of Edme both as a friend and love interest and how the grief would affect her all her life. Instead The Other Valley had a nuanced approach to grief and loss best exhibited by the differences between Odile and Alain in adulthood as well as the many opinions and stances on visitations of visitors to the past and future.
Speaking of Odile, I loved her character and felt seen via her character’s obvious logical brilliance and her reserved display and connection with her emotions (particularly her internal debate of “settling”). I’ve seen some reviews criticizing Howard’s character work for being sedated, some going as far as saying Odile is neuro-diverse or has attachment issues. I laughed out loud reading these reviews, it’s like those readers have never experienced the perspective of a thinking intuitive person before; not everyone is an emotional trainwreck and everyone experiences social interactions differently. Similar to the themes and plot, Howard’s portrayal of Odile at both ages felt believable, and despite a clear jump between parts, I thought her character growth and shifting morals were incredibly well done. While not to say adulthood is filled with being jaded and tired, the difference in Odile portrayals pre and post jump nailed the differences between many people’s teenage and adult years, not to mention their concerns, morals and thoughts. One of the highlights of part 2 for me in particular was when Odile received updates about the adult figures in her life when she was a teenager and when she encountered some of her classmates decades later. Minor spoilers aside, Odile’s reunion with Edme’s best friend and ruffian Alain and her fellow Conseil study partner Jo were easily some of the most poignant and impactful moments in the whole book. Not only were they great moments for the plot, but the way Howard used both of their reunions as crucial character development moments of Odile contributing to her actions in the final chapters were chef kiss.
If I had to find a fault or negative point somewhere (apart from the polarizing lack of quotation marks), it would be that the momentum grinds to a halt between the jump from part 1 to part 2. With Odile’s conscious knowledge of Edme’s potential doom, there’s a sense of growing tension underneath her Conseil-related lessons and her small newfound friend group’s social outings. Once the concluding events of part 1 occur, the book immediately jumps to Odile’s adulthood and almost soft resets everything the reader experienced up to that point. The opening chapters of part 2 are mostly spent exploring Odile’s place in the valley’s society as an adult and explores completely new areas of the world compared to part 1. While these reserved and reflective chapters are crucial to set the scene for the latter half of part 2 and feature some of Howards most beautiful literary passages in these quiet solitary moments, this section felt like the story was sort of meandering around without direction. Having finished the book, I realized that those aimless chapters are metaphors for adult life (there is debatably no real goal to life except continuing to live) and were necessary for the full impact of upcoming plot twists. However, I had my doubts that the book would be able to pull the story back on track and match the momentum the ending of part 1 had. Ultimately I was worried for nothing as Howard not only brought every character, plot element, and theme full circle, he did so in a way that was full of surprises and left me in awe. Not only that, but the book’s plot and conclusion were free of plot holes all too common for time-travel related stories and it was consistent to the very end with the book's philosophy and dynamics between the past and future interacting (to say which ethos the book’s time travel philosophy follows would to give away spoilers). And that’s not to mention how invested I was in Odile’s decisive resolve and final chapters. Full of restrained hope, the back half of part 1 and part 2 were absolute page-turners for me despite how methodically paced and deliberate slow they were.
With a high-concept premise and a plot that fully makes the most of it, The Other Valley is a true hidden gem and a science/speculative fiction standpoint. Yet, the fact that it's truly a character life-focused story at its core and one that’s told with such sophistication makes it all the more astounding to me. It’s so rare for a speculative fiction book to have such a tightly written plot with such amazing character work presented in a style and tone that felt personally catered to my reading preferences. Not to mention that this is also Scott Alexander Howard’s debut novel that’s so ambitious and expertly crafted is beyond me. The fact that this book has largely flown under the radar so far apart from a few best of 2024 science fiction/time-travel related lists is a crime and I could go on far longer with this review if I included spoilers related to its plot and Odile’s ethics and morals. This is an automatic recommendation for anyone that’s a critically-inclined reader looking for a complex and philosophical read. The Other Valley is utterly brilliant and I’m not sure if any other book will be able to top it for my best read of the year.
Graphic: Child death, Cursing, Death, Sexism, Violence
Moderate: Bullying, Cursing, Domestic abuse, Emotional abuse, Gun violence, Terminal illness, Toxic relationship, Blood, Death of parent, Alcohol, Sexual harassment
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
1.5
Starting off with the good, Never Lie’s setting at a remote manor that also served as a home office for a mysterious psychiatrist was a great setup. The premise involving found audio tapes recorded by Dr. Adrienne Hale and her clients is a narrative concept I love and the snowed-in setup was a great narrative choice to not only trap Tricia and Ethan in the manor, but to also serve as a plausible source for the odd noises due to snowfall. The core crime mystery involving Adrienne’s sudden disappearance a few years ago and reliving her last known days through the tapes and a split narrative was a page-turner; I finished this in just under three days. These tapes are labeled with initials of the client involved, the date, and certain colors representing regular sessions vs each client's last session, one of which also involving Adrienne’s boyfriend Luke who was a suspect in her disappearance. While the suspenseful ambiance in the seemingly deserted manor didn’t do much for me personally (more on that below), I found the crime-angle to be very well planned. Every character had a role in the events surrounding Adrienne’s murder and the reveals were exciting to read. It also helps that although the book was listed with 30e pages, the font size was actually quite large and is very quick to read through.
There was only one problem with those character plot reveals, and it’s a notable one that was impossible for me to overlook or ignore. Note, this is major spoilers for the book and while I generally avoid going too heavily into spoilers, this time they had so much influence on my enjoyment of the book due to the severity of the details:
The inconsistencies are even more numerous when it’s revealed that Adrienne already hired a company to snow plow the driveway before she and Ethan had scheduled a house visit, yet during the drive over she comments about starting to regret the trip due to being stranded and the bad weather only to admit this trip was already a bad idea due to the possibility of Ethan finding evidence of her crime. On the other hand Ethan says multiple times how he loves the house and also bumbles around not knowing where things are despite having been to this house many times to drop off his mother Gail who was also a client (they have the manor’s address which they should’ve recognized from how many times they both went there previously). And then when Ethan discovers the body in the hidden floor space under a couch, how in the world does Tricia mistakenly consider that the body is Adrienne when she herself killed and buried her elsewhere? Had this book been written in a 2nd person perspective, it would’ve allowed the reader to be told the story from Tricia who could choose how to describe the events and what details to omit rather than experiencing everything Tricia does in real-time, thoughts included. This story tries to pull plot twists that would require an unreliable narrator without actually using it and being able to plausibly explain Tricia’s misleading directions. You hear and experience all of Tricia’s internal thoughts which completely contradicts everything about her past actions and events which destroys all of the credibility of the plot.
The biggest reveal and plot problem aside, the book was also filled with so many plot holes that it started to become unintentionally funny.
The character logic and movement also made little sense.
Besides the endless inconsistencies and issues with conflicting plot threads, unfortunately I also greatly disliked the prose and Freida’s writing style. Thrillers really only need to have a functional prose to get the job done, but I found the writing to be surprisingly poor and tonally at complete odds with the psychological thriller story it was trying to tell. The writing felt both incredibly simple and crude, coming off quite amateurish and elementary. The internal dialogue and Tricia’s exploration also felt shallow, bland, tedious and made me facepalm “no duh” spelling out every single discovery and repeating it until it was hammered into my brain. McFadden’s attempts at foreshadowing also had the subtlety of a car crash that had me eye-rolling at how hard it was trying to be ominous and dramatic. I read a review that described the writing as being click-baiting which is a very appropriate description.
I don’t know if this description is something most people will understand, but you know of Myer Brigg’s personality types and factors? This book felt like it was written and pitched entirely for sensing and feeling readers that don’t have an intuitive bone in their body. Characters would cry or break down at situations that are far from being emotional, the biggest offender being Adrienne’s overreaction to EJ’s actions and her childish response (seriously, the way she talked did not sound anything remotely like a professional with a PhD in psychology). And I do not mean this to be a derogatory remark outside of the quality of the book (bad coincidence considering yesterday’s events), but its tone felt to me like dumb high school valley girl. The tone was so womanly with so many unnecessary details about Tricia’s brand of clothing, Ethan’s boots, Adrienne’s cashmere sweater that Tricia can’t stop mentioning how much she loves. These things have absolutely no relevance to the plot, the ambiance, the suspense, in fact it has the opposite effect and derails the experience. And to be clear, I do not have issues with books that have clearly feminine tones as long as they either fit with the story, characters or have a more sophisticated prose (I’ve read a surprisingly high number of romance novels and chick lit fiction novels this year unintentionally). The prose constantly tried my patience throughout the entire book (admittedly it did improve slightly as the story progressed), but the final straw for me was the constant “<i>swoon.</i>” McFadden kept including, written exactly like that.
I was tempted to give this a 1-star based on the prose alone, but after thinking on it, I’m bumping it up to 2.5 rounded down. The writing style and tone was not at all to my taste and the plot had more holes than a block of swiss cheese. However, the plot and crime sequence was actually very well planned if not for its complete undoing by the 1st person perspective details that undermine the entire experience. I had written a note while reading mid-way through that this book desperately needed more editing on the reading experience or some reworking of the character motives for how dirty McFadden’s writing does her own plot (a review proposed the idea of Ethan being the main protagonist instead which would’ve worked so much better in theory). There were definitely great elements here but something went really wrong when put together and I’m quite baffled at the frequently high ratings Fredia McFadden has (either that or most other readers aren’t insightful enough to notice how much of a mess this is). I can really only recommend this book to readers that either are head empty when they read or those with short attention spans as it’s quick and engrossing to read (sometimes for the wrong reasons). Instead I would recommend Riley Sager’s slower paced psychological thrillers that are just as twisty as Freida McFadden’s novels but with very tightly constructed plots and considerably better character work.
Moderate: Mental illness, Toxic relationship, Murder
Minor: Drug use, Alcohol
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.5
I previously read Ali Hazelwood’s YA novel Check & Mate based on a friend’s recommendation but had some personal preference issues with some of the teenage angst, so I was encouraged to try her adult novels instead. Interestingly although The Love Hypothesis has a collegiate post-grad setting and two chapters of spice, in many ways it still felt like a YA type of read in that the characters felt quite standard and the plot entirely predictable and straightforward. And despite how that may sound in a book review, that’s not necessarily a bad thing. In fact, the entire book’s plot can be summarized as Olive fake dating Adam for relationship reasons, Adam fake dating Olive for logical reasons, while both try and make professional advances in their line of work. The advantage to having such a simple premise is that it allows the character dynamics and banter to be front and center, arguably The Love Hypothesis’s biggest success.
Quirky, babble-prone FMC’s are very common in this genre and at times Olive feels quite typical for this type of romance story. However the snappy banter she has with Adam just works so well, all while staying incredibly breezy and casual. I found the comedy to be a nice mix of slapstick silly and on the nose snarky, and frankly that can carry the book pretty far as-is. The book also constantly makes fun of all of the standard romcom genre tropes and instead of trying to pass them off as being clever, runs gleefully into them head-on with full unapologetic confidence. This is evident both in the plot as well as Olive’s hilarious hypotheses that open each chapter (I found them cute and witty). While some readers have found this to be silly, it’s self-awareness leaves the impression that Hazelwood knows exactly what she’s doing:
"HYPOTHESIS: Approximately two out of three fake-dating situations will eventually involve room-sharing; 50 percent of room-sharing situations will be further complicated by the presence of only one bed."
"“This is not real life.” “It is.” “Nuh-uh. This is a Hallmark movie. Or a poorly written young adult novel. That will not sell well. Olive, tell Malcolm to keep his day job, he’ll never make it as a writer.”"
It’s an open secret that The Love Hypothesis originated as a Rey x Kylo Ren AU fanfic and despite the rework and edits, you can still see traces of its original intention. While some of the forced fake-dating situations are cleverly setup (the shared hotel room being one of them), others are less successful and felt quite cringe. You can pick any review at random and you’ll probably see it discussing about Olive being forced to sit in Adam’s lap during a guest lecture session just because the room is stuffed. Another infamous scene is the weekend social picnic where Anh squirts an entire bottle of sunscreen into Olive’s hands who has “no other choice” but to rub all the extra sunblock onto a shirtless and gleaming Adam in front of the entire faculty (of course she can’t just flick it off on the ground or wipe it off with a napkin). On one hand they are absolutely silly and comically ridiculous, yet they would be perfectly acceptable and even expected had these scenes been in a fanfic instead. Another recurring theme is Olive’s frequent comments about how large, broad, muscling, and hulking Adam is compared to her. While many readers may find this unnecessary and cringe, the size difference trope is another trope that’s so prevalent and screams fanfic. While it was not to my taste, I do think many people’s issue with this is overblown. At least Hazelwood didn’t comment about Adam having a big shoe size, if you know what I mean-
What helps prevent The Love Hypothesis from getting lost in the sea of romance novels for me is Ali Hazelwood’s writing and focus. While the prose is obviously not out to win literary awards or inspire critical analysis, it’s fun and entirely rosy; its tone to me was if Heartstopper were a romcom instead of dramedy in that it’s sweet and consciously avoids the worst places you would expect it to go. The novel also sets itself apart by Olive’s internal mile a minute spiraling thoughts that are also directly portrayed using excessive run-on sentences and huge blocks of text. Ordinarily I probably would have found this juvenile and too modern for my taste (as highlighted by many other low star ratings), but I thought it was appropriate and worked perfectly for Olive’s character narration style. This would not have worked had it been used in another book, but Hazelwood’s other book that I read did not have this quirk which leads me to believe it was a conscious artistic choice. I also love the way Hazelwood portrays Olive’s internalized thoughts with italics layered before or after what she actually says out loud. The back and forth nature and often complete duality of her responses were a highlight!
Another theme worth noting is Ali Hazelwoood’s now signature focus of women in STEM and empowered female characters. One of the reasons why I found this book to be cute but also interesting to read is the way Olive is characterized and portrayed. Despite being the silly, babbling flustered type of character that makes silly choices, Olive’s internal thought process and decision-making is anything but. Although her choices ultimately make things worse through miscommunication, she’s not a dumb character that had me chucking my ereader out the window; she’s a character that lacks confidence and has been trained to expect the worst. She’s also fundamentally smart and ambitious which is backed up by her professional achievements and success. Admittedly a lot of this happens off-screen/off-page (a major academic presentation is skipped entirely) and the science elements are more for narrative flavor rather than contributing heavily to the plot (apart from Olive’s PhD program), but it’s refreshing to read about female empowerment especially in an area traditionally dominated by men. One particular quote had me rolling, coincidentally also being one of my friend’s mantra:
"Carry yourself with the confidence of a mediocre white man."
Despite the great banter and cute progression, I did have some minor qualms with The Love Hypothesis. While I found his one-liners and dialogue great, on a closer look Adam’s characterization and development is somewhat nonexistent and he feels like the usual grouchy brooding intimidating archetype. The book tries to give a deeper backstory with his experiences during postgrad and his lifelong friendship with fellow professor Dr. Holden Rodrigues, but it feels too short to be substantial. In general I found Holden to be an interesting side character that could have contributed a lot to the story (both for Adam’s character and Malcolm’s), but he becomes notable far too late in the midst of the core conflict’s climax. The book also constantly reminds you of how intimidating, cold, and harsh Adam is known to be but there’s almost none of it actually shown. Yes, Adam’s actions are shown through Olive’s perspective who gets slightly preferred treatment from Adam, but it still feels like we’re merely told of his reputation, lowering the character growth and impact when that facade starts to melt.
The other issue I had was that while the story was fun to read and cute, it largely felt low-stakes to me. While a large portion of the book and story focuses on Olive’s pursuit of a new University lab with more resources for her research, the first two thirds of the book feel like the story is just bumbling around going through the typical rom-com motions. The content is good, but doesn’t really feel like it’s going anywhere. And while the book’s tone and storytelling is comfy, it’s also the type of book where you know everything will work out perfectly in the end and it feels almost conflict-averse. The big plot twist is a situation that could’ve gone considerably deeper or darker (ie. Lessons in Chemistry) but instead The Love Hypothesis takes the least offensive and tame route feasibly possible. And then once Olive and Adam go to attend a scholastic symposium, suddenly it’s like Hazelwood remembered where the story was heading and dumped all the conflict and character development all at once. The biggest plot twist (which I expected and could see coming early-on) and conflict occurs at the same time as Holden/Adam’s backstory which feels rushed and busy. While the rest of the book wasn’t necessarily slow or boring to read, I felt like a lot of this development could’ve been spread out better; particularly since Holden is often seen casually and quickly much earlier. And once the book reaches its conclusion, it just kind of abruptly ends and feels like it’s missing something. There is a brief one year later epilogue that’s included, but I felt it added nothing of value and either should’ve been expanded or possibly cut entirely.
All in all, I found The Love Hypothesis to be a fun and competently written rom-com. I flew through it quickly and it had me smiling at how cute it was. It’s not perfect and there is a lack of detail and development in a few key areas that give the book that “debut novel” kind of feel, but that’s really just me reading more critically than its likely intended readers. Overall the banter and tone more than outweigh its shortcomings and it’s an easy recommendation for most casual romance or chick lit readers (and this is coming from someone who talks and thinks like Adam, without his hulking size and excessively chiseled abs).
Graphic: Sexual content
Moderate: Cursing, Misogyny, Sexism, Death of parent
Minor: Death of parent, Toxic friendship