justreaditalreadypod's reviews
503 reviews

Things Left Unsaid: A Novel by Sara Jafari

emotional hopeful reflective medium-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? Character
• Strong character development? Yes
• Loveable characters? Yes
• Diverse cast of characters? Yes
• Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

3.75

Dream State by Eric Puchner

emotional hopeful reflective medium-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? Character
• Strong character development? Yes
• Loveable characters? Yes
• Diverse cast of characters? No
• Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

4.5

Woodworking by Emily St. James

emotional funny hopeful inspiring lighthearted medium-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? Character
• Strong character development? Yes
• Loveable characters? Yes
• Diverse cast of characters? Yes
• Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

4.25

I honestly wasn't prepared for how much this book would get under my skin - in the best way possible. Going in, I thought I was signing up for a quiet little story about a teacher and her student bonding over their shared trans identities. What I got was so much deeper, funnier, and more emotional than I expected. By the time I finished it, I knew I had read something special.

 

The book follows Erica Skyberg, a 35-year-old high school teacher living in small-town South Dakota. She's newly divorced (but still just a little in love with her ex-wife), keeps mostly to herself, and quietly carries the knowledge that she's trans - something she hasn't dared say out loud yet. Enter Abigail Hawkes, a seventeen-year-old student who's been the "Only Trans Girl in Mitchell" for years and is totally over it. When Erica and Abigail cross paths and Erica admits to Abigail that she is trans, you might assume you're about to read a reversed mentor-mentee kind of story, but that's not what St. James gives us at all. Their relationship is awkward, layered, and sometimes messy, but most importantly, deeply authentic.

 

What really stood out to me was how the book doesn't shy away from showing both characters as full, flawed people. Erica isn't the wise adult who has it all figured out, and Abigail isn't just the stereotypical jaded teen. They both have sharp edges, insecurities, and so much vulnerability beneath the surface. Watching them slowly build trust, challenge each other, and grow felt extremely real. I found myself rooting for them both, even when they made choices I didn't always agree with.

 

One of my favorite details was the way the book handled misgendering and dead names. St. James makes the bold choice to literally blackout those words on the page whenever someone slips up or uses Erica's or Abigail's old names. It caught me off guard at first, but the more I read, the more I appreciated how impactful it was. Instead of forcing readers to witness those old names, the blanks did the emotional work all on their own. It's subtle but powerful.

 

And I have to say, for a book dealing with heavy topics like isolation, small-town prejudice, and gender identity, the book is surprisingly funny! Abigail's dry humor had me actually laughing out loud more than once, and Erica's awkwardness - especially in the early parts of the book - is endearing without ever making her the butt of the joke. St. James has a gift for balancing warmth and humor with the more serious moments, which kept me deeply invested.

 

The biggest surprise for me, though, was the introduction of another trans woman later in the story - someone I absolutely did not see coming. I won't spoil who it is, but when that reveal happened, it hit me hard. It completely changed the way I saw the story and even made me rethink how I'd been looking at some of the secondary characters. It was one of those quiet twists that doesn't scream for attention but leaves a lasting impact.

 

Honestly, I think this book is essential reading, especially for cis readers. As someone who thought I already had a fairly good understanding of what trans people endure, this book still managed to open my eyes to so much more. It's never preachy, just honest. You really feel like you're sitting with Erica and Abigail, hearing them out, watching them fumble and triumph.

 

If you're looking for a book that will make you laugh, touch your heart, and leave you thinking about it long after you finish, this is absolutely that book. I would highly recommend this to anyone looking for a layered story with wonderful characters - it's perfect for book clubs. It's the kind of story that invites conversation and reflection, and I know it's one I'll carry with me for a long time.

Tilt by Emma Pattee

adventurous hopeful tense fast-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? Character
• Strong character development? It's complicated
• Loveable characters? Yes
• Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
• Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

3.5

 

As someone who calls Portland home, I've spent more time than I'd like to admit thinking (okay, worrying) about the Cascadia subduction zone. Ever since that infamous New Yorker article laid out in excruciating detail what a major earthquake could do to the Pacific Northwest, it's been hard to ignore just how fragile everything around us really is. So when I stumbled on the synopsis for this book, I immediately knew I had to read it. And let me tell you - it delivered exactly the kind of gut-punch, adrenaline-filled, slightly-too-real story I was hoping for. (Though it did nothing to alleviate my anxiety or make me feel more prepared.)

 

At its heart, this is a story about survival, motherhood, and confronting the life you've built when everything literally falls apart around you. We follow Annie, who is nine months pregnant and shopping at IKEA when the Big One hits. From there, she's plunged into a version of Portland that's both familiar and utterly foreign. The bridges, the streets, the neighborhoods - they're places I know, places I drive through frequently - made Annie's journey hit me even harder. And the fact that Pattee sets the entire story over just one day gives the book this breathless, relentless pacing. Annie's mission is simple on paper: get home to her husband. But when you're days away from giving birth, you can't use your car, your feet are swollen, and the ground has literally reshaped the city beneath you; nothing is simple.

 

What really sold me on the book, though, was Annie herself. I connected with her almost immediately, and not just because we share a city. Pattee writes her with so much emotional depth. Annie isn't your typical disaster novel protagonist; she's anxious, often self-doubting, and fully aware of her own shortcomings. But she's also determined, gritty, and surprisingly resourceful when it counts. As she navigates the chaos, we're not just watching her dodge falling debris and desperate crowds; we're watching her grapple with years of unspoken disappointments: a strained marriage, a career that never quite took off, the loss of her mother and the terrifying unknowns of impending motherhood.

 

The flashbacks scattered throughout the book were one of my favorite elements. They aren't just thrown in for context; they make the stakes so much more personal. Seeing where Annie's coming from - the cracks in her relationship, her doubts about herself - makes every step she takes through the wreckage feel heavier and more meaningful. You're not just rooting for her to survive; you're rooting for her to figure out what survival even looks like when life has already felt like it was cracking before the earthquake ever hit.

 

And then there's Portland itself. Pattee's version of post-quake Portland is so vividly rendered, and it honestly gave me chills. I could see Annie staring at bridges twisted beyond recognition, navigating the kindness and cruelty of strangers, trying to figure out how - or if - she could make it across the river to her husband. This isn't one of those books where the disaster is just background noise; the earthquake is the story, and it never lets you forget it. I found myself constantly asking, What would I do? Could I actually make it home?

 

If I had one gripe, it's that I wanted more when all was said and done. This isn't a long book, and while I get why Pattee chose to focus on just this one harrowing day, I wished we had a bit more breathing room at the end. I wanted to see Annie weeks, months, or even years later - to know what came next. The open ending wasn't bad, but for me, it felt a little too abrupt. Just a short epilogue might've been enough to fully land the emotional payoff.

 

That said, when I closed the book, my anxiety levels were higher than normal. This is a tense, deeply human, and frighteningly plausible novel that hit a little too close to home. If you're into survival stories with actual emotional weight - characters you'll root for, fear for, and maybe even yell at - this is a book I would recommend. I just wish it had been a little bit longer.

Take My Hand by Dolen Perkins-Valdez

emotional hopeful sad medium-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? A mix
• Strong character development? Yes
• Loveable characters? Yes
• Diverse cast of characters? Yes
• Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

5.0

 

Several people that I follow on Instagram posted about this book in February for Black History Month. The reviews were all solid, so I decided to add it to my March Book of the Month box, and I am so glad I did! This is a novel that will stick with me for a long time. 

 

This book hurt - deeply. I knew going into it that the story would be heavy, but I wasn't fully prepared for the emotional gut punch it delivered. Inspired by true events, this book is a fictionalized account based on the real-life cases of forced sterilization of young Black girls in Alabama during the 1970s. The author does an incredible job weaving historical facts into the emotional narrative of Civil Townsend, a young Black nurse who discovers, all too quickly, the horrific reality of the healthcare system she thought she was entering to help.

 

The book alternates between 1973 and 2016, and the dual-timeline structure adds a lot of depth to the story. Seeing Civil both in the moment, as a young woman fighting to do the right thing, and then decades later, reflecting on the impact those events had on her life, gave the story even more emotional weight. I loved Civil as a character - her determination, compassion, and inner conflict felt extremely authentic. She wasn't perfect, and that's what made her so believable. 

 

The author does a great job of establishing Civil's relationship with India and Erica (the two young girls Civil is tasked with administering birth control to) before getting into the meat of the story. Knowing from the synopsis that something awful was coming made every interaction with the girls feel heavier. I was completely sickened by how these poor girls and their family were taken advantage of by people they should have been able to trust, including the medical community and the government. The violation of their rights, dignity, and autonomy was absolutely atrocious and something reminiscent of what Hitler attempted with his eugenics program during WWII. 

 

What made the book so much more touching was that the author doesn't sensationalize the trauma, but rather centers the narrative around the girls' humanity. The quiet moments - the bond between the sisters, the established relationship with Civil, and the small joys they found despite their circumstances - made the eventual injustice hit that much harder. I could feel Civil's helplessness, her outrage, and ultimately her resolve to fight back for the girls, even when the odds were against her. I also loved how the novel explored the ripple effect these kinds of violations can have, not just on those directly affected but on entire communities and even the advocates themselves.

 

As I read, I couldn't help but think about how timely and necessary this story still is. Yes, this book is a work of historical fiction, but it is also a mirror. The stripping away of reproductive rights and the exploitation of vulnerable communities are sadly not relics of the past. We are living in a moment where these conversations are more important than ever, and this book serves as both a warning and a call to action. We have to stay vigilant and make sure things like this never happen again.

 

I fully understand why this book is so highly praised. It was a tough read, but I'm so glad I read it. Books like this are supposed to make us uncomfortable. They are supposed to stir something in us. Perkins-Valdez has crafted a powerful, compassionate, and unflinching novel that I believe everyone should read - not just to learn about the past but to stay vigilant for the future.

The Song Rising by Samantha Shannon

adventurous mysterious medium-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? A mix
• Strong character development? Yes
• Loveable characters? Yes
• Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
• Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

4.25

 

I am trying to pace myself with this series, but after reading the second book, I couldn't stop thinking about that ending, and I couldn't wait any longer to get back to this world. Picking up immediately after "The Mime Order," this book drops us right where we left off in book two, with Paige now the Underqueen - the head of London's clairvoyant syndicate - and in even more danger now than before. 

 

As Underqueen, Paige is no longer just a rebel trying to survive - she is now a leader responsible for the lives of thousands, and the weight of that burden is felt throughout the book. She must navigate the ever-present threat of Scion, deal with discontent within her own syndicate, and secretly maintain a fragile alliance with the Ranthen, all while dealing with the introduction of Senshield - a new technology that gives Scion the ability to detect clairvoyants, which ups the stakes and puts Paige and her crew in even more danger since it's more difficult for them to move undetected.

 

One thing that I really like about the series is the slow-burn relationship between Paige and Warden. Shannon has avoided the common trope of rushing the romance, and instead, she has allowed it to grow organically over the course of the series. In this book, we see the relationship shift and mature. The tension between them is still there, but the attraction has grown. The progression feels earned, which makes the small steps forward even more satisfying. I also love that we don't get pages and pages of sex scenes that bog down the forward movement of the story.

 

Another aspect that stood out to me was the expansion of the world-building. This time, we are taken beyond London, into Manchester and other locations, which helps broaden the scope of the series. It's always exciting when a fantasy series takes us into new territories. The exploration of other syndicates and their differing structures and challenges added depth to the overall story.

 

That being said, I did feel that the action, while present, wasn't quite as gripping as in the first two installments. There were fewer heart-pounding moments, and the story leaned more on strategy, politics, and inner conflict than direct confrontations. While some might view this as a downside, I personally think it was a necessary shift to prepare readers for the larger conflict to come. 

 

While I didn't find this book to be as intense or as edge-of-your-seat as the first two books, it still held my attention and kept me invested. In many ways, this book feels like a true "middle book" in that it felt like it was tasked with closing the door on the first arc of the story while laying essential groundwork for the next phase of the series. 

 

I did enjoy watching Paige grapple with how the battlefield had changed. She no longer has Jaxon to direct her, so she's figuring out how to lead while also trying to stay alive. This shift allowed us to see Paige's vulnerabilities more clearly, making her an even more compelling protagonist. The book ends in a way that leaves no doubt that something monumental is coming, and I am very eager to see how it all unfolds in book four, "The Mask Falling".

 

Overall, I enjoyed the book even though I wasn't as glued to the pages as I was in the first two installments. The stakes are undeniably high, and the introduction of Senshield added a new layer of danger that I'm sure will play a significant role in the books to come. Now, I need to pace myself and not devour the next two installments immediately.

When We Were Real by Daryl Gregory

adventurous funny hopeful lighthearted mysterious medium-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? A mix
• Strong character development? Yes
• Loveable characters? Yes
• Diverse cast of characters? Yes
• Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

4.5

 

Thanks to the publisher for the advance galley of this book. All thoughts are my own.

 

I was intrigued by the summary of this one, and I have to say, it lived up to all of my expectations. I found it to be a creative blend of road trip comedy, existential sci-fi, and a heartfelt character study that will have you questioning what is real and what isn't. The book is over 400 pages long, but it moves quickly and never feels bloated. 

 

Imagine if, one day, we woke up and learned that we are basically living in a storyline straight out of "The Sims" - except we're not controlling the game - we are the Sims. That's exactly what happens in this book. One day, every person on Earth receives a message confirming that their reality is artificial. When this happens, people are left reeling. Some commit suicide, some go crazy with conspiracy theories, and others get deeply introspective and philosophical. Soon, glitches begin appearing across the globe - geographic impossibilities that defy physics, like gravity-reversing geysers, upside-down tornadoes, and time-warping tunnels. These anomalies become the new "must-see" stops on sightseeing tours, and that is where we meet our cast of quirky characters.

 

We spend most of our time with JP and Dulin, lifelong best friends. JP has just learned that his cancer has returned, and this time, he's not going through more surgery or treatment. Dulin, unwilling to let JP slip quietly away, insists they take a once-in-a-lifetime tour across North America with Canterbury Trails Tours. The two men and several other travelers board a slightly ramshackle bus headed toward Ghost City - the supposed glitch that may hold the answer to who, or what, is running the simulation.

 

The cast of characters on this tour are all absolutely wonderful. There are a couple of nuns - one seasoned searching for God and a newer nun in training who can't believe the older one even doubts God's existence (despite knowing they're in a simulation). There's also a rabbi, a heavily pregnant influencer hellbent on making her unborn child famous, a newly married gay couple from Amsterdam on their honeymoon, a "truther" and his son who are starting a podcast with the intent to "prove" the government is lying about the whole simulation thing, and a foursome of horny octogenarians embracing the YOLO spirit of a world that's no longer pretending to make sense. There's even a professor on the run from a cult that worships The Matrix as gospel. The variety of characters adds richness and levity, and while I occasionally wished some of them - like the aforementioned elderly crew or the gay couple - got a little more page time, every character felt distinct and memorable.

 

I mentioned "The Sims" earlier, and it's easy to draw a parallel here to playing that game. Anyone who's spent as many hours crafting their own simulated worlds as I have, only to abandon them on a whim or burn them down in a fit of boredom, will recognize the terrifying freedom of the creator - and the vulnerability of the created. What if we are merely a simulation living inside a simulation? Lots of questions come up while reading this book, and for someone like me who often wonders about this stuff, I spent much time thinking about these things even after setting the book down. Many of my thoughts and questions mirrored the characters' thoughts: If it is a simulation, why do we still age? Why do we get sick or die? If this is a simulation, what's the point of suffering? And if we/they aren't "real," does that make our experiences meaningless?

 

I need to be clear that I never found the novel to be nihilistic. On the contrary, it's deeply invested in exploring what it means to be human - simulated or not. The story argues that our connections, our feelings, and our decisions still matter. In the book's artificial world, the search for meaning feels even more urgent. Whether it's love, friendship, God, fame, or simply a sense of closure - each character on that bus is chasing something real. And by the end of the book, you might find yourself believing, as they do, that reality is less about what's true and more about what we choose to hold onto.

 

Overall, I found this book to be funny, strange, emotionally resonant, and wildly creative. I had a really good time reading it and will likely revisit it in the future. It's a love letter to friendship, to stories, and to the idea that even if we're just code in a machine, we still need to live like we matter. It'll also make you think twice about neglecting your sims or treating them poorly the next time you play the game.

Eat the Ones You Love by Sarah Maria Griffin

dark mysterious tense slow-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? Plot
• Strong character development? Yes
• Loveable characters? It's complicated
• Diverse cast of characters? Yes
• Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

3.75

 

I received an advance galley of this book courtesy of the publisher via NetGalley. All thoughts are my own.

 

This was a strange, but interesting read that managed to balance a haunting, creeping dread with tender moments of love, friendship, and quiet desperation. At its core, the novel is a sort of retelling of "Little Shop of Horrors", but with a fresh, Sapphic twist and a setting that's equal parts nostalgic and nightmarish: a dying shopping mall. Think Audrey II meets the Upside Down from "Stranger Things", but with a distinctly queer, feminist bent. 

 

The story follows Shell Pine, a woman who is going through a lot of (maybe too much) change - she's left her fiancé, lost her job, and is back home with her parents. Shell used to have a purpose and direction in life, and now she's kind of floundering. During a trip to a shopping center, she sees a "HELP NEEDED" sign in the window of a flower shop and decides to enter the shop to see what sort of help the owner needs. Shell has never worked with flowers before, but she's desperate for connection and open to learning something new. There, she meets Neve, the enigmatic florist who quickly becomes something more than a boss or a coworker. Their connection is immediate and electric - but there's a catch. The shop isn't just a quaint place to sell daisies and daffodils. Hidden in the shadows of the mall, there's an orchid named Baby. He's sentient. He's ravenous. And he's in love with Neve - so much so that he wants to eat her and make her part of him.

 

Griffin's writing is lyrical, surreal, and sometimes dizzying in its intensity. The prose pulses with hunger and yearning, and while it takes a few chapters to adjust to the frequent shifts in perspective (especially with no clear signposting), it eventually becomes clear that this disorientation is intentional. Baby's influence seeps through everything, and the lack of traditional structure mirrors how he infects and distorts the lives of those around him. 

 

The book is filled with atmosphere, and the setting is one of the book's standout features. The mall itself feels like a character: decaying, haunted by memories of a consumerist past, and slowly being consumed by something older and far more dangerous. There's a creeping dread throughout the novel, as if something is rotting beneath the surface, and I loved it. 

 

Despite the horror elements, there's a strong emotional core to the story. The relationships - especially between Shell and Neve - are complex and deeply human. There's a permeating feeling of need throughout the book that I found very effective. I also found the ending to be deeply satisfying. It doesn't offer neat resolutions, but it does leave you with a lingering unease and a sense that things - while different - aren't necessarily going to be okay.

 

That said, the pacing does falter at times. The middle section drags a bit, focusing on the day-to-day dynamics of the mall workers in a way that, while interesting, occasionally feels like filler. The friendships and relationships are lovely, but the novel might have benefited from a bit more pruning - especially when it comes to building the stakes. With a monstrous plant on the loose, one almost wishes a few of these characters had met a grisly end to heighten the tension and drama of the overall book. It also would have added to the sense of dread and elevated the horror element.

 

In short, I found this to be a gorgeously written novel about hunger, love, and monstrosity - and how, sometimes, the things that feed us are also the things that devour us. I would definitely recommend this to fans of queer horror. While I felt it dragged a bit in places, I still enjoyed it. It's different, and not particularly scary, but it is beautifully written and worth checking out. 

Deep Cuts by Holly Brickley
Did not finish book. Stopped at 44%.

I couldn’t connect with the story or the characters. 

You Are Fatally Invited by Ande Pliego

dark mysterious medium-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? Plot
• Strong character development? Yes
• Loveable characters? Yes
• Diverse cast of characters? Yes
• Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

4.0

 

I haven't had the best track record with thrillers lately. Between predictable twists and underwhelming payoffs, I've been burned a few too many times to the point where I am almost afraid to pick one up. When I picked this book as part of my March Aardvark box, I did so hesitantly. After reading the first chapter, I was cautiously optimistic, and it didn't take long for the book to win me over. In the end, I found it to be a fun, fast-paced, locked-room mystery that pays homage to the greats (hello, Agatha Christie vibes!) while adding its own modern, meta flair.

 

The story has a fun and juicy premise: There is to be an exclusive writer's retreat on a private island hosted by the mysterious and reclusive author J.R. Alastor - an author no one has ever met. The guests? Six bestselling thriller writers, all of them masters of deception, each bringing their own signature styles and egos to the party. Mila del Angél, a former aspiring writer, has been recruited by Alastor to help organize the event - and she's got her own hidden agenda. She's not just here to serve drinks and organize scavenger hunts. She's here to settle a score with someone who wronged her in the past.

 

Right from the start, Pliego sets a very theatrical, self-aware, and gleefully dark tone. The retreat is themed around the writers' own work - complete with staged games and riddles that parody common thriller tropes. But things take a deadly turn when one of the authors is murdered in a way that eerily mirrors a death scene from one of their own books. Suddenly, the fun and games become a real-life whodunit, with each guest now both suspect and potential victim.

 

What I loved most about the book was its creativity. It starts off with a side of campiness, which is maintained throughout the book. The plot is fun and twisty, and the book never takes itself too seriously, which is a problem many of today's thrillers have and exactly what made this one stand out. The idea of a killer using each writer's own fictional deaths against them is very clever, and Pliego really leans into the meta-layering. It's a book about writers, writing, and the stories we tell - not just to others, but to ourselves. Every character has secrets and motives, and part of the fun is watching them unravel in real-time.

 

The cast of characters is varied and entertaining, and while there are nods to familiar author archetypes - the up-and-coming literary darling, the pretentious literary snob, the bestselling hack, the dark and brooding recluse - they never feel like caricatures. Pliego gives each of them just enough depth to keep things interesting, and the dialogue crackles with tension, wit, and just enough camp to make it fun.

 

Mila, our protagonist, is particularly compelling. She's not a traditional heroine - she's complicated, morally gray, and very much playing her own game. Watching her navigate the chaos, all while trying to execute her own plan and dodge suspicion, was super fun, and it helped that I was never sure if I could trust her. She's both unreliable and deeply relatable, which makes her the perfect lens for this story. It also helped that we got to see things from each of the other guest's perspectives as well. This added a nice touch and never felt overwhelming. The author is great about capturing each of their voices perfectly, so I was never confused as to who was who.

 

If I had one critique, it's that the ending did feel a bit muddled. While I wasn't shocked by the reveal of the killer - I had my suspicions early on - there are a lot of threads being tied up at once, and it slightly undercuts the crisp pacing that carried the rest of the book. That said, it didn't ruin the experience for me. The journey to get there was entertaining enough that I didn't mind a slightly messy landing.

 

Overall, I found this to be a wickedly fun homage to classic mysteries, full of insider nods to the thriller genre and enough suspense to keep the pages turning. It's part Agatha Christie and part "Scream", and completely aware of its own theatrics but in the best possible way. If you're a fan of twisty mysteries, meta-fiction, or just a good old-fashioned locked-room murder, this one's well worth your time.