librarymouse's reviews
428 reviews

Clown in a Cornfield by Adam Cesare

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

5.0

As I told my roommate, while halfway through the book, "the real bad guy we found along the way is Trump 2020."
Published in 2020, Clown in a Cornfield is what must have felt at the time an extreme, worst case scenario version of what was playing out at the time during Trump's first term and second campaign cycle. Unfortunately, reading this in 2025, it feels almost realistic. There's a pretty massive generational divide, culturally, especially in rural areas. The political divide that comes up between generations seems to be becoming quite the gulf in a lot of places, and this book explores the extremism of that in a bloody, often anachronistically funny way.

I think it was a really unique take by Cesare to have a slasher feature the nearly teens of the generation that grew up with regular school shootings and lockdowns -
especially so as the killer clowns are the town's adults acting to kill the children they've deemed to be a "blighted crop." The kids have more lockdown and emergency procedure training than any civilian should need to, and that, mixed with Rust's safe gun use practice and discipline means that they're a better trained counter-strike team than any of the people trying to kill them could have expected. Janet's death was horrifying, especially knowing that she maybe could have lived had she not saved her friends, and that her stepfather was one of the people doing the killing.

I'm so glad Rust survived, and I really enjoyed how the expected love triangle between Cole, Quinn, and Rust was circumvented. I love rural queerness so much, as a rural queer person.

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Hill Women: Finding Family and a Way Forward in the Appalachian Mountains by Cassie Chambers

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emotional funny informative reflective medium-paced

4.5

Hill Women is a deeply personal and tender human history of the Appalachian region of eastern Kentucky, giving the reverence and respect deserved to the women who've been the backbone of communities for generations. Chambers discusses the ways in which geography, capitalism, misogyny stereotyping, and suspicion of the outside world have worked in conjunction, internally and externally to create a lack of access for people in Appalachia, spanning from equitable education, to healthcare. As someone living in central Appalachia, after growing up on the outskirts of it, Hill Women offers a door into the aspects of Appalachian culture that aren't available to me as someone without deep roots in the community. It's easy to see how deeply Cassie Chambers loves her community and how much work she's put in to help make the lives of those she loves easier.

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Mislaid in Parts Half-Known by Seanan McGuire

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

5.0

My first thought when I finished this book was " what a beautiful book about the things that you lose when you leave," and while the story is a lot more nuanced than that, I stand by the fact that I think it's beautiful. A large portion of Mislaid in Parts Half-Known is about not only what you lose when you leave, but what you lose when you leave, come back, and leave again. It's about bonds and what it really means to be sure that you want to stay in a place that also requires sacrifice. As somebody who experiences a lot of decision paralysis around mak ng choices that hinge on the possibility of losing those I hold dear, Seanan McGuire's Portal fantasy holds a unique place in my heart. These characters have returned from or been returned by the worlds that called to them to offer them a possible alternative to a life that doesn't fit. They find a sense of home, if not quite the reality of home in Eleanor's school, and they find family with each other. To be sure is to have to sacrifice family they've found in the world of their birth. I really enjoyed this as a continuation of Antsy's story. It offers a sense of finality to the open-endedness of her storyline in the previous book in the series, and it gives a clearer sense of understanding of how the doors work. Earlier on in the series, the characters believe, and therefore readers are led to believe that the doors open to a world that is perfect for the children that open them. My perception is complicated by Kade's experience in Prism, but it still holds within the rhetoric of the students' group therapy and their desperation to get home.

I really loved getting to know Emily better in this book 

The major contribution that this book has given to the series, going forward, is the confidence the featured characters have that if they are sure enough that they want to go home and they are ready to leave behind the world of their birth, that their world will open back up to them. The other major thing added by Antsy's story is the toll the doors take. After the introduction of world hopping in Beneath the Sugared Sky, the heartbreak of Antsy's story, aging without the knowledge of the cost of opening the doors is necessary to show why they can't just hop in and out of their world and others as easily as Roni did with her candy jewelry. Its reiterates the gravity edition of the choice they must make. That being said, I'm glad Cora got to say goodbye. I hope we see her again soon.


One of the things that I find interesting and admira le about the way that Seanan McGuire writes, is how she is able to integrate very tender and often vulneravle moments like coming out narratives, bigotry, and discussions of the impact of bullying with direct vocabulary into these stories without making those moments and conversations seem out of place. Nancy's coming out was the first time I saw an asexual person in a piece of media, who was respected as is. She was the first time I saw myself and my identity that wasn't as the butt of a joke. Cora's portrayal on the page makes me remember how sensitive I was as a young child, hitting puberty before my peers, and being constantly aware and reminded of how the size and shape of my body differed from the norm - how even as I've trended towards average as my peers caught up, the anxiety of being ridiculed or perceived as taking up too much space still remains.

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The House of My Mother by Shari Franke

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challenging emotional funny informative medium-paced

5.0

Shari Franke is unfailingly generous in her portrayal of her family members. Even in discussing the harm done by her parents, she offers a sympathetic description of them, discussing the small kindnesses and the moments of joy before and sometimes within the pain. She details exactly how they got from starting a vlog channel to make some extra money, to the point at which the world became aware of the abuse.This book explores in explicit detail both how family vlogging allowed their family to support themselves financially, and how it destroyed their family physically and mentally. Shari goes into detail about the trauma caused by her vulnerable teen years being plastered across the internet for everyone to see, and how editing can make horrors seem like sweet family moments on the screen.

I found it interesting that Franke stayed devout to her Mormon faith through everything she endured, as it played a large part in the damaging aspects of her upbringing. Still, as she expands on the community she's had and the ways in which the church emotionally and financially supported her mental health needs when her parents wouldn't, it makes sense. In the section discussing her mother and Jodi Hildebrand's sexual relationship in the span of time Jodi was living in Shari's bedroom, she is transparent about the issues she sees in the Mormon church that may have lead to the women's nightly semi-secret sexual liaison while they spewed virulent anti-LGBTQIA+ rhetoric in daily videos. Shari Franke expands on the differences in beliefs held by the younger generation of Mormons and the shifting beliefs of the Mormon church, wondering whether a more accepting church can help as a stop gap to keep more people from turning to hate and violence when they feel that they cannot be themselves.

Amid all of the sorrow and pain in this book, Franke is funny. This book reflects a lot on Franke's childhood, her family's history, and the ways in which her internal life differed from what she shared online. She integrates portions of her old journals and Mormon scripture to help differentiate between sections of the book. Overall, it's well written and engaging. It's one of the best nonfiction books I've read about recent events, in a long time.

I am like 50% sure I watched one Shari Franke school day vlog when I was a teenager, and even then, I found it weird that she was allowed to share so much of herself publicly on the internet at such a young age. I wish her parents had protected her and her siblings better, and I wish there was more done to protect the rights of children to bodily autonomy and privacy, but I hope her testimony can be a step towards taking down family channels and other online platforms that exist solely off the exploitation of children.

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Skeleton Song by Seanan McGuire

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dark reflective slow-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? Character
  • Strong character development? No
  • Loveable characters? It's complicated
  • Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated

4.0

The foreward to "Skeleton Song" ends with "adventures are always interesting, but they’re not always happy." As that might suggest, I have complicated feelings about this story. I do not like the prevalence of stories written for young adults, in which young teens are encouraged to make/are lauded for making life altering decisions - or in this case, life ending decisions - based on the love they feel in extreme circumstances. Thus, I really enjoy how Seanan McGuire handles that situation in this story. In Mariposa, Christopher is seen as a creature, unlike the people the residents consider themselves to be with their "proper, honest bone[s]" visible; not hidden by flesh. His bed is a pile of rags, and as the only one in the world who needs to eat, he does so sparingly during the day, when it won't impact his ability to spend time with the skeleton girl. "Skeleton Song" reveals that for Christopher to become a resident indivisible from the rest of their community, the skeleton girl needs to kill him with their marital knife, so his bones can free themselves from the remains of his flesh when the abeulas sing them awake, come sunset.
Christopher's "be sure" moment to bring him to his door home comes from him questioning whether he is ready to die, whether he is ready to never see his family again. While it's tempting to root for the hero, to have Christopher returned to the skeleton girl to be killed and revel in his (after)life in Mariposa, I am glad that McGuire chose to give him a moment of pause, pausing the snowballing adventure in its tracks for a breath that lasts years. He wants to return, but much like Lundy, there is a draw to the world of his birth that keeps him from being able to be fully sure. Change in these books is often irrevocable.

I wouldn't want to be in Mariposa as anything other than a tourist. It seems beautiful, but I also find the soft animal of my body to be an integral part of myself. That dissonance from my own comfortability with that of Christopher's sense of home is what makes these books so special. These worlds are tailored for the children who are pulled into them. Christopher's story is unique, because what he needed and found in Mariposa was his health. The skeleton girl pulled the cancer to a single bone and then pulled it out of him, turning it into a flute with which he could join in their song. He found love, yes, but that love and the need for his world may have only been situational. His devotion so far in the series says otherwise, but I look forward to seeing more of his story. The further this series goes, the more complexity is added to the need to be sure.

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In Mercy, Rain by Seanan McGuire

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adventurous dark fast-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

4.0

It was nice to have a story from Dr. Bleak's perspective, though after Come Tumbling Down, I was hoping for/expecting a continuation of their story after Dr. Bleak's second resurrection, rather than a flashback to Alexis's first. It was interesting, but strange to see an age of Jack's that we missed in the Every Heart a Doorway and Down Among the Sticks and Bones. The little idiosyncrasies of teenage-hood were combined well with the sense of self and the general idiosyncrasies that we've come to expect from young adult Jack. I can see why this wasn't a part of Down Among the Sticks and Bones. It wouldn't have fit into the short and almost rhythmic confines of the way the even number novellas have been paced thus far. They cover years, and this was 25 pages covering only a few days.

I don't know that I like the way Alexis is characterized at this point in her story. She read as a little one-note for me, flirting with Jack right after being killed by a phantom love with whom she had intended/desired to spend her afterlife. Though she, too is a teenage girl. Up until this point I had only ever experienced her as a traumatized young adult and  through a lens of Jack's love of her. It was interesting to see her without the haze of love. The drama inherent to most things done by teenagers, as people pretty new to the world, and people who are very new to the prospect and processes of adulthood, was very present in the final conversation between Jack and Alexis. 

I don't know if it makes the world richer or just complicated to have had Dr. Bleak's dead lover be the shade who killed Alexis.

Overall, it was interesting to have more detail, especially in the development of Jack's maintenance/treatment of her OCD in a world without mental health care, but it didn't add much we didn't already know.

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Lost in the Moment and Found by Seanan McGuire

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

5.0

I believe Lost in the Moment and Found has the longest section of the book  spent in our world, out of all the even numbered books in the series so far, with maybe the exception of In an Absent Dream. Regardless of reality, it feels like the longest continuous amount of time, very probably because of the well-formed sense of dread Antsy feels, being passed along to the reader. The death of Antsy's father, and the tying of her anxieties to the specific detail that is the Target toy aisle, points out in stark detail just how regular of a little girl she is. Antsy is a very real-feeling child who is dragged into an entirely different world while trying to escape the looming threat of sexual abuse from her step father.
This novel is the first time readers get to see a world within which the adults who feel as if they are supposed to be safe harbor for the traveling children actively take advantage of them. We catch glimpses of stories like Antsy's and worse with the false headmaster's story of his world and the revelation that Rowena's door only stole time from her with nothing in return, in Where the Drowned Girls Go. In Lost in the Moment and Found, the rules for visitors to be able to give informed consent to go galivanting through doors that appear in Shop Where Lost Things Go are actively and intentionally disregarded by Vineta and Hudson for the sake of their own greed. Antsy trades away her childhood, unbeknownst to herself. The days Vineta has Antsy open over a dozen doors, early on in the book are horrifying in retrospect.

By the end of the novel, though she should only be nine years old, Antsy is astoundingly responsible and mature in her actions. When she proves to herself that she cannot go home and that her family is safe, Antsy makes the decision not to try to force herself back into a role that no longer fits her as she has been made. She is kind to her mother, though I and so many other children her age would have screamed and cried, and begged their mother to recognize them. Instead, she is kind, and she finds herself a new home.
This novel is remarkably heavy for all that it is balanced out by lightness. It is a cohesive part of the series, but it also feels like something more. The other characters' worlds were unique in their own right, but Antsy's has a gravity to it beyond.

I greatly appreciated the content warning in the author's note, though that, paired with the dedication were enough to make me cry.

The dedication reads:
"For the child I was. I will spend my entire life trying to make up for the fact that when I was you, I didn't run soon enough. I'm sorry."

The author's note reads:
"While all the Wayward Children books have dealt with heavy themes and childhood traumas, this one addresses an all-too-familiar monster: the one that lives in your own home. Themes of grooming and adult gaslighting are present in the early text. As a survivor of something very similar, I would not want to be surprised by these elements where I didn't expect them.
I just want to offer you this reassurance: Antsy runs. Before anything can actually happen, Antsy runs."

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Where the Drowned Girls Go by Seanan McGuire

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adventurous dark emotional mysterious 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? It's complicated

5.0

Holy shit! This is a fantastic addition to the Wayward Children series. I greatly enjoy Seanan McGuire's handling of most subjects, and the level of thought that has gone into Cora's characterization and healing, and the consistency of the characters' personalities across books is no exception. The expansion of the universe, offers readers a deeper glimpse into the lives of the lost children who were found by the Whitethorn school before Eleanor West could get to them and those whom she is unable to help. The detail in this book is refined to a tee and immense given the relatively short page count. From the looming threat of aging out of the program without graduating, to the minute changes in vocabulary from the compass we've come to expect, the Whitethorn school is uncanny and unkind from the beginning. Yet, as we see, Cora is healing. This novella starts as an interesting exploration of what it means for healing to hurt, and what it means to hold onto something past the point of comfort. The moment at which Cora truly begins to heal and release the hold the Drowned Gods have on her, is so powerful, set against the backdrop of a sterile isolation room. She battles for herself inside her own mind. I also greatly enjoyed getting to see more of Sumi and Cora's friendship.

As the novel progresses, the setting takes on a role more akin to character, and we see the overarching plot of the odd-numbered novels progress as the characters uncover the nefarious nature of the Whitethorn school. The crumbs of further door lore dangle the promise of more. I'm very glad I'm reading this series with a back log of books to catch up on. I'm looking forward to seeing how the rescued characters fit into Eleanor West's school for wayward children, and how further door lore will be revealed.

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Across the Green Grass Fields by Seanan McGuire

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

5.0

This addition to the Wayward Children series was different from what I've come to expect from what I've seen in the previous books. It's a great breaking away from the expectations of heroics in portal fantasy. Regan has a wonderful disbelief in destiny and fate that makes this such an intriguing story. Regan is a hero for the Hooflands because she loves its inhabitants - not because that's what humans in the Hooflands do. Heroism is not her story. Her story is being chosen and loved by her family. The people of the Hooflands are aware of the type of story they're living in, and thus it is the expectation that she must be a hero that forces her hand into becoming one. It's a cycle which Regan's dedication to the family that chose to love her breaks.
I really love the intersex representation! Regan is a girl through and through, and the repetition of the truth that "there is no wrong way to be a girl" was fantastic to see in a piece of media. The exploration of childhood friendships, comparing Regan's relationship with Laurel to her relationship with Chicory was really insightful. Watching Regan and Chicory grow up in parallel, changing how and who they are, and the shapes of their bodies diverging further from each other, but neither shape ever being wrong was such a beautiful exploration of a healthy girlhood.

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Come Tumbling Down by Seanan McGuire

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adventurous dark funny fast-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

5.0

At the Tucson festival of books, I recently heard Seanan McGuire use the phrase "load-bearing lesbians" to describe characters who are the only named representation of a given marginalized group, as characters who the author cannot kill. It is my sincere hope that Jack Wolcott and Alexis Chopper are the lesbians behind the coining of the term. I love Jack as a good and vicious monster, and I love Alexis as her tie to humanity. This addition to the Wayward Children series is both a wonderful continuation of the storyline as a whole, and a satisfying end to the tragedy of the Wolcott sisters. While we mostly get Jack's perspective throughout the series, I do find her to be the more sympathetic sister by a longshot. Violent, self-assured, curious, and interesting, she could have been horrifying as the master's daughter, and she is amazing as as Dr. Bleak's. While she, too had the capacity to be everything her sister is, Jill is a monster by the time we meet her, but she is a pitiful one - weak, and devoted to the master who only claimed her when he couldn't have Jack. I have pity for Jill, for who she could have been and what she lost along the way of growing up in the Moors, which is a testament to the skillfulness of McGuire's writing. I really enjoyed the banter between Jack and Sumi. I'm glad she's back and as weird as ever, if not weirder. The addition of fate into her character in the assurance she won't die because her daughter exists and resurrected her, so she will return to her home eventually makes her a more ominous and round figure. I look forward to seeing how Cora's time with the Drowned Gods affects the latter books in the series, if at all. At the end of Come Tumbling Down, she is the only one of the main group who is permanently physically changed by her ordeal. I enjoyed getting to see characters who were heroes in their worlds get to be heroes again to help their friend. Sometimes bending the "No Quests" rule is worth it.

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