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littlemonster's reviews
562 reviews
In Nightfall by Suzanne Young
adventurous
emotional
funny
lighthearted
mysterious
fast-paced
- 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? It's complicated
3.25
Thank you to NetGalley and Random House Children's for allowing me to read this ARC!
Content Warning: violence, death, underage drinking.
Theo and her brother, Marco, are not excited about spending their summer in gloomy Nightfall, Oregon. After Marco throws a huge party, destroying the house and nearly getting many of his friends arrested, it's their father's idea of a punishment and visit to his mom all rolled into one. Once they arrive, however, Theo is immediately and begrudgingly charmed by the small town, and once Marco meets the beautiful, intriguing Minnow, things start to get a little more interesting for the both of them. Theo, too, is enamored by a crush of her own, but she finds their grandmother a little strange, especially with her one important house rule: never stay out after dark. When Theo is drawn into Minnow's friend group, she quickly realizes that something about the girls is -- off, somehow. And by the end of her summer trip, she might be forced to confront the dark side of Nightfall.
These days, I don't mix much with most YA books. I just don't click with it anymore, probably because I'm not exactly the intended audience anymore. Sometimes, though, you just want to pick up something fun, feel transported back to your teenage years, and for me, In Nightfall is a great example of a book that does just those things. Originally, I was intrigued by the comparisons to The Lost Boys, especially the idea that this was a sort of gender-flipped version, but beyond that shallow first impression, it manages to find its own path -- something that a lot of books with big-name comparisons can't achieve.
Theo is our main character, as we get everything from her first-person perspective, but this is really more of an ensemble type of novel, particularly when it comes to the involvement of her brother, Marco, and their family unit. She's interesting enough, and very likable, with relatable problems that many teenagers (and even adults) will be able to sympathize with. One problem I found with the entire book, however, is that most of the characters don't feel very fleshed-out, and this issue mostly plagues Theo's crush, Parrish, and the group of "wild" girls that Theo and Marco both get involved with. The two characters who assist Theo in her quest to figure out what's going on in Nightfall (and potentially help her fight any monsters who may or may not be terrorizing the town) suffer from the same problem, and I think it feels especially noticeable when they're supposed to be the Edgar and Alan of Young's book.
With that being said, Young does an excellent job of maintaining the sensation of fun and adventure, and I was really rooting for Theo and her family. Young's exploration of changing family dynamics is also spot-on, although I do wish that there had been more time to follow up with Theo's strained relationship with her mother. Another element I have to compliment is the wonderful way that Young builds up the fake town; it feels somehow genuine and authentic, with little touches and details that add a quality of realness, while also managing to keep Nightfall mysterious and just slightly off-kilter.
What kept me from giving this four stars has to do with In Nightfall's girl gang. I was so excited to see how they would come alive on the page, but unfortunately, their allure was lukewarm for me. Truthfully, I was expecting (and hoping for) a deeper connection between Theo and the girls, especially with its comparison to The Lost Boys. In the film, it's easy to see why Michael falls under the spell of the boys, the classic tale of wanting to belong, even if it means fitting in with people who you don't truly like or get along with. Minnow, Annemarie and Beatrice are more like window-dressing, and their backstories and lives are never fully explored, something that would've made things far more interesting.
Overall, I really enjoyed this book, and I think it'll gather a lot of fans. It isn't perfect, but it's never short of fun, and it's the kind of thing you want to reread when you're feeling down.
Content Warning: violence, death, underage drinking.
Theo and her brother, Marco, are not excited about spending their summer in gloomy Nightfall, Oregon. After Marco throws a huge party, destroying the house and nearly getting many of his friends arrested, it's their father's idea of a punishment and visit to his mom all rolled into one. Once they arrive, however, Theo is immediately and begrudgingly charmed by the small town, and once Marco meets the beautiful, intriguing Minnow, things start to get a little more interesting for the both of them. Theo, too, is enamored by a crush of her own, but she finds their grandmother a little strange, especially with her one important house rule: never stay out after dark. When Theo is drawn into Minnow's friend group, she quickly realizes that something about the girls is -- off, somehow. And by the end of her summer trip, she might be forced to confront the dark side of Nightfall.
These days, I don't mix much with most YA books. I just don't click with it anymore, probably because I'm not exactly the intended audience anymore. Sometimes, though, you just want to pick up something fun, feel transported back to your teenage years, and for me, In Nightfall is a great example of a book that does just those things. Originally, I was intrigued by the comparisons to The Lost Boys, especially the idea that this was a sort of gender-flipped version, but beyond that shallow first impression, it manages to find its own path -- something that a lot of books with big-name comparisons can't achieve.
Theo is our main character, as we get everything from her first-person perspective, but this is really more of an ensemble type of novel, particularly when it comes to the involvement of her brother, Marco, and their family unit. She's interesting enough, and very likable, with relatable problems that many teenagers (and even adults) will be able to sympathize with. One problem I found with the entire book, however, is that most of the characters don't feel very fleshed-out, and this issue mostly plagues Theo's crush, Parrish, and the group of "wild" girls that Theo and Marco both get involved with. The two characters who assist Theo in her quest to figure out what's going on in Nightfall (and potentially help her fight any monsters who may or may not be terrorizing the town) suffer from the same problem, and I think it feels especially noticeable when they're supposed to be the Edgar and Alan of Young's book.
With that being said, Young does an excellent job of maintaining the sensation of fun and adventure, and I was really rooting for Theo and her family. Young's exploration of changing family dynamics is also spot-on, although I do wish that there had been more time to follow up with Theo's strained relationship with her mother. Another element I have to compliment is the wonderful way that Young builds up the fake town; it feels somehow genuine and authentic, with little touches and details that add a quality of realness, while also managing to keep Nightfall mysterious and just slightly off-kilter.
What kept me from giving this four stars has to do with In Nightfall's girl gang. I was so excited to see how they would come alive on the page, but unfortunately, their allure was lukewarm for me. Truthfully, I was expecting (and hoping for) a deeper connection between Theo and the girls, especially with its comparison to The Lost Boys. In the film, it's easy to see why Michael falls under the spell of the boys, the classic tale of wanting to belong, even if it means fitting in with people who you don't truly like or get along with. Minnow, Annemarie and Beatrice are more like window-dressing, and their backstories and lives are never fully explored, something that would've made things far more interesting.
Overall, I really enjoyed this book, and I think it'll gather a lot of fans. It isn't perfect, but it's never short of fun, and it's the kind of thing you want to reread when you're feeling down.
Big Swiss by Jen Beagin
dark
emotional
funny
sad
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
2.0
Thank you to NetGalley and Scribner for allowing me to read this ARC!
Content Warning: suicide, misogyny, homophobia, rape (mentioned, off-page), eating disorders, violence, stalking, animal cruelty, racism.
Greta lives in an old Dutch farmhouse, working as a transcriber for a "sex and relationship coach" in Hudson, New York. She's also a mess. Listening in on people's therapy sessions hasn't done much for her own mental health, but she gets a kick out of it nonetheless, and she's particularly captivated by one of her boss's new clients. Greta calls her Big Swiss (owing to the fact that she's tall and from Switzerland) and for Greta, listening to her sessions is somehow cathartic -- they both have experienced major traumas in their lives, but their ways of coping are about as opposite as you can get. One day, Greta hears a familiar voice as she's at the dog park, and when she realizes it's Big Swiss in the flesh, she quickly introduces herself -- not as Greta, but Rebekah. As the two of them become tangled up in a messy, intense relationship, Greta is forced to face the demons of her past and some of the demons in her present, too.
Let me start off by saying that Big Swiss is not my usual kind of book. I decided to give it a go, mainly because I love messy female protagonists with a dark, dry sense of humor (and the lesbian relationship is a plus, too!), but I think it's only fair to mention this before I properly begin my review. Some people have likened Beagin's style to Otessa Moshfegh, and as I'm a big fan of her books, I thought, why not? It's always good to broaden your horizons. Unfortunately, in this case, I probably should've trusted the hesitation I felt.
The biggest problem I have is with the two main characters, Greta and Flavia (the titular Big Swiss). At first, I was intrigued by their dynamic, and I even found them oddly charming in some situations, but as the novel progressed, I quickly grew tired of their flakiness, their inability to be kind to one another, and, head and shoulders above the rest, the lack of chemistry between them. It was difficult to understand why they put up with each other, and what attracted them to one another in the first place. Although the 'why' is repeatedly spelled out for us, it doesn't really make sense with the actual interactions we see on-page. Big Swiss, in particular, is not a likable or even interesting character to me. Why Greta is so instantaneously infatuated with her is really anybody's guess.
There's a lot of social commentary here, but most of it falls flat. It's the usual type of dry humor, making fun of everyone for everything, and to put it simply, it's boring. I also don't think that this book is quite as funny as it thinks it is, and instead of laughing or feeling tickled by a lot of the things intended to be funny, I was mostly left cringing. Greta is tactless, almost to the point of stupidity or naivete, and although she's forty-five, I had to continuously remind myself that she wasn't actually meant to be a vapid teenager or twenty-something.
There's also really no plot to speak of. The ending is a bit disappointing; it feels like a lot of build-up for nothing. I didn't hate this book, but reading it felt like filler, like waiting for something meaningful to happen. Also, there's a lot of casual racism, and I wasn't a huge fan of the way the book handled Greta's questioning of her sexuality, nor did I like some of Big Swiss's comments about lesbianism (the whole "I could never be a lesbian" thing was just kind of weird).
All in all, not my cup of tea, but judging by the very high ratings this book has gotten, I might be the odd one out.
Our Share of Night by Mariana Enríquez
Juan is determined to protect his son. A powerful medium, Juan has been exploited and abused by the Order for years, beginning in his childhood, and after marrying and having a child with Rosario -- the daughter of the most powerful family of the Order -- he knows that they will do anything to get their hands on Gaspar, who they plan on using for their own ends. Fleeing across the country after Rosario's untimely death, father and son encounter obstacle after obstacle, from the brutal tactics of Argentina's military dictatorship to Juan's own dark side, a side that often comes out when is around Gaspar. As Gaspar grows older, it becomes clear that his inheritance is inextricably tied to cruelty, magic, and ultimately, death.
Following many characters and a jumping timeline, Our Share of Night is an epic that does its best to break every storytelling convention you can think of. Written by Mariana Enriquez, an Argentine journalist and author who made it onto the shortlist for the International Booker Prize, this novel is, at its heart, an occult version of the bildungsroman. What I noticed first upon picking this up was her immense ability in creating something that sinks its claws into you. From the very first page, there's intrigue, and also a sense of impending doom, an element that pervades the story from start to finish. We begin in the head of Juan Peterson, a father who is prepared to do anything to save his son from the selfsame cult that has ruined his life. He's mourning the death of his wife, Rosario, the daughter of the wealthy Reyes Bradford family, who also happen to be the foremost leaders of the cult he's so determined to escape. His son, Gaspar, is perhaps a touch too clever for such a young child, mirroring both his rebellious father and mother in many ways.
When Juan and Gaspar are making their way across the country, the military dictatorship -- coming to power during the infamous coup where Isabel Perón was overthrown -- is in full swing. Much of this book is political, and Enriquez deals with those issues both in the form of veiled allegories and in upfront, direct lines that speak of the forced disappearances taking place, of the torture, and the so-called Dirty War tearing the country apart. Enriquez's style of speech and writing is frank, but with characteristic flair and beauty; she never shies away from the ugly, and it makes her stories that much more compelling. Her characters, too, are just as gripping, although I found Gaspar to be strangely shallow in comparison to Juan, Rosario, and the others around him. Juan, in particular, is complex, a multilayered creature that Enriquez isn't afraid of making unlikable. Somehow, against all odds, Juan is sympathetic, a testament to Enriquez's ability to create someone as flawed and interesting as a real person.
For me, this book left me with many questions, and I think that the ending, in all its strange ambiguity, was fitting. This isn't a novel you can pick up and read lightly, and at six-hundred plus pages, it's not exactly something you can breeze through. There's a weight to it, and the sometimes slow pace actually feels beneficial to what Enriquez is trying to impart. I do have a few issues with it, though. Perhaps it's simply meant to be accurate to the time period, but I really didn't like the casual use of racism and racist terms by some of the characters (including those we are supposed to like). It's peppered throughout the book a few times, and while I understand the intent of using it in a character like Mercedes, from a wealthy European family, it was strange to see the weird passage about Gaspar coloring the map and the Chinese. It was pointless, and soured my liking of the book a little. I'd be interested to see these parts in their original Spanish. My other problem is that occasionally, the storyline was just plain confusing. There's a lot of characters, a lot of timelines, a lot of places and people and problems, and every once in a while it became overwhelming.
With that being said, I loved everything else about this novel. It's gritty, fascinating, beautiful, and a wonderfully unique interpretation of cults and magic, made even better by its cultural and political aspects. In many ways, it reminds me of horror books from the '60s and '70s, and in my opinion, there's really no better comparison.
adventurous
challenging
dark
emotional
mysterious
sad
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.0
Thank you to NetGalley and Random House for allowing me to read this ARC!
Content Warning: misogyny, violence, death, rape, racism (including slurs), child abuse, homophobia (including slurs), torture, usage of slurs against the disabled.
Juan is determined to protect his son. A powerful medium, Juan has been exploited and abused by the Order for years, beginning in his childhood, and after marrying and having a child with Rosario -- the daughter of the most powerful family of the Order -- he knows that they will do anything to get their hands on Gaspar, who they plan on using for their own ends. Fleeing across the country after Rosario's untimely death, father and son encounter obstacle after obstacle, from the brutal tactics of Argentina's military dictatorship to Juan's own dark side, a side that often comes out when is around Gaspar. As Gaspar grows older, it becomes clear that his inheritance is inextricably tied to cruelty, magic, and ultimately, death.
Following many characters and a jumping timeline, Our Share of Night is an epic that does its best to break every storytelling convention you can think of. Written by Mariana Enriquez, an Argentine journalist and author who made it onto the shortlist for the International Booker Prize, this novel is, at its heart, an occult version of the bildungsroman. What I noticed first upon picking this up was her immense ability in creating something that sinks its claws into you. From the very first page, there's intrigue, and also a sense of impending doom, an element that pervades the story from start to finish. We begin in the head of Juan Peterson, a father who is prepared to do anything to save his son from the selfsame cult that has ruined his life. He's mourning the death of his wife, Rosario, the daughter of the wealthy Reyes Bradford family, who also happen to be the foremost leaders of the cult he's so determined to escape. His son, Gaspar, is perhaps a touch too clever for such a young child, mirroring both his rebellious father and mother in many ways.
When Juan and Gaspar are making their way across the country, the military dictatorship -- coming to power during the infamous coup where Isabel Perón was overthrown -- is in full swing. Much of this book is political, and Enriquez deals with those issues both in the form of veiled allegories and in upfront, direct lines that speak of the forced disappearances taking place, of the torture, and the so-called Dirty War tearing the country apart. Enriquez's style of speech and writing is frank, but with characteristic flair and beauty; she never shies away from the ugly, and it makes her stories that much more compelling. Her characters, too, are just as gripping, although I found Gaspar to be strangely shallow in comparison to Juan, Rosario, and the others around him. Juan, in particular, is complex, a multilayered creature that Enriquez isn't afraid of making unlikable. Somehow, against all odds, Juan is sympathetic, a testament to Enriquez's ability to create someone as flawed and interesting as a real person.
For me, this book left me with many questions, and I think that the ending, in all its strange ambiguity, was fitting. This isn't a novel you can pick up and read lightly, and at six-hundred plus pages, it's not exactly something you can breeze through. There's a weight to it, and the sometimes slow pace actually feels beneficial to what Enriquez is trying to impart. I do have a few issues with it, though. Perhaps it's simply meant to be accurate to the time period, but I really didn't like the casual use of racism and racist terms by some of the characters (including those we are supposed to like). It's peppered throughout the book a few times, and while I understand the intent of using it in a character like Mercedes, from a wealthy European family, it was strange to see the weird passage about Gaspar coloring the map and the Chinese. It was pointless, and soured my liking of the book a little. I'd be interested to see these parts in their original Spanish. My other problem is that occasionally, the storyline was just plain confusing. There's a lot of characters, a lot of timelines, a lot of places and people and problems, and every once in a while it became overwhelming.
With that being said, I loved everything else about this novel. It's gritty, fascinating, beautiful, and a wonderfully unique interpretation of cults and magic, made even better by its cultural and political aspects. In many ways, it reminds me of horror books from the '60s and '70s, and in my opinion, there's really no better comparison.
After Sappho by Selby Wynn Schwartz
First and foremost, I want to applaud Schwartz's creativity. The imaginativeness of this novel is perhaps its strongest feature -- it wouldn't be quite right to say it's totally unique (as I believe Saidiya Hartman has a similar approach), but it certainly is something you don't encounter often. It's a fascinating interplay between reality and the imagination, and Schwartz's poetic, lyrical style of writing further adds to the dreamy sensation of reading it. Even in this day and age, where there is much more freedom in the exploration of gender and sexuality, many young lesbians will relate to the fervent desire of these women to explore a shared history, a connected past. It's not lost on me that while these women were reading tomes about Sappho, translating her poems from their original Greek, we are reading about them as they were doing it.
Many of the women included here are well-known, and have had much written about them. Virginia Woolf, for example, is featured heavily here, as is her lover, Vita Sackville-West, as is Natalie Barney, Romaine Brooks, Radclyffe Hall, Sarah Bernhardt, and many others. It would be remiss not to include them in some capacity, anyway -- they are responsible for influencing modern art and literature in so many ways, not to mention the lesbian community. There are a few others that I hadn't heard of previously, namely Sibilla Aleramo, one of the first openly feminist writers in Italy, as well as Lina Poletti, one of the first women to declare herself a lesbian in Italy. My only major complaint here is that, in some ways, I wish Schwartz had focused on lesser known lives. We have a wealth of information already on these women; wouldn't some of the ones we know less about have been particularly exciting to expand upon?
Josephine Baker and Ada "Bricktop" Smith are also briefly mentioned, but there's barely any time given to them at all. It made me question, speaking truthfully, why they were included at all. It felt as if they were namedropped, and that was it. I do understand, to some degree, why this is: Schwartz is focusing specifically on the set of women who are slightly interwoven with one another during this period, but still, what was the point of very briefly mentioning Ada and Josephine just to completely leave them out later?
As a whole, the book suffers from a sense of being somewhat disjointed. Because of the stylistic choice Schwartz makes, none of these women ever feel truly fleshed out, and the brevity of each section leaves you wishing that a bit more time had been spent on them.
All in all, I don't think that this is a completely successful venture, but I do applaud Schwartz's creativity and ambition. I'll be interested to see what her next novel holds!
adventurous
challenging
dark
emotional
hopeful
informative
inspiring
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
3.0
Thank you to NetGalley and W. W. Norton & Company/Liveright for allowing me to read this ARC!
Content Warning: misogyny, violence, rape, sexual harassment, racism, domestic violence, abortion, homophobia.
Following various famous lesbians during the nineteenth century as they try to capture the essence of Sappho, the Greek poet who proudly professed her love for other women, After Sappho is a series of vignettes showing both the hardship and beauty in the lives of these women -- from Romaine Brooks, the painter known for her shades of gray, to Natalie Barney, an American writer who created a literary salon in Paris that became the center of the era's lesbian community. Struggling against the crushing boot of male oppression, these women nevertheless rose to great heights, and have a special place not only in the memory of women and lesbians, but the rest of the world, too.
First and foremost, I want to applaud Schwartz's creativity. The imaginativeness of this novel is perhaps its strongest feature -- it wouldn't be quite right to say it's totally unique (as I believe Saidiya Hartman has a similar approach), but it certainly is something you don't encounter often. It's a fascinating interplay between reality and the imagination, and Schwartz's poetic, lyrical style of writing further adds to the dreamy sensation of reading it. Even in this day and age, where there is much more freedom in the exploration of gender and sexuality, many young lesbians will relate to the fervent desire of these women to explore a shared history, a connected past. It's not lost on me that while these women were reading tomes about Sappho, translating her poems from their original Greek, we are reading about them as they were doing it.
Many of the women included here are well-known, and have had much written about them. Virginia Woolf, for example, is featured heavily here, as is her lover, Vita Sackville-West, as is Natalie Barney, Romaine Brooks, Radclyffe Hall, Sarah Bernhardt, and many others. It would be remiss not to include them in some capacity, anyway -- they are responsible for influencing modern art and literature in so many ways, not to mention the lesbian community. There are a few others that I hadn't heard of previously, namely Sibilla Aleramo, one of the first openly feminist writers in Italy, as well as Lina Poletti, one of the first women to declare herself a lesbian in Italy. My only major complaint here is that, in some ways, I wish Schwartz had focused on lesser known lives. We have a wealth of information already on these women; wouldn't some of the ones we know less about have been particularly exciting to expand upon?
Josephine Baker and Ada "Bricktop" Smith are also briefly mentioned, but there's barely any time given to them at all. It made me question, speaking truthfully, why they were included at all. It felt as if they were namedropped, and that was it. I do understand, to some degree, why this is: Schwartz is focusing specifically on the set of women who are slightly interwoven with one another during this period, but still, what was the point of very briefly mentioning Ada and Josephine just to completely leave them out later?
As a whole, the book suffers from a sense of being somewhat disjointed. Because of the stylistic choice Schwartz makes, none of these women ever feel truly fleshed out, and the brevity of each section leaves you wishing that a bit more time had been spent on them.
All in all, I don't think that this is a completely successful venture, but I do applaud Schwartz's creativity and ambition. I'll be interested to see what her next novel holds!
Astrid Parker Doesn't Fail by Ashley Herring Blake
Astrid Parker has her life together. Although she's established herself as an ultra-successful interior designer, business hasn't exactly been booming lately, which is exactly why she needs all the exposure from Innside America that she can get. Filming an episode of the renovation of the local Everwood Inn, where Astrid is the lead designer, is just what she needs -- but what she doesn't expect is that she'll butt heads with the carpenter granddaughter of the inn's owner, Jordan Everwood. Jordan is dealing with her own personal issues and failure, and she's not in the best state of mind to deal with what she thinks of as Astrid's "uninspired" design for the inn. But against all odds, Jordan and Astrid find themselves growing closer, even as the showrunners encourage them to have on-camera conflict... and Astrid begins to realize that everything she thought she knew about herself might not be true after all.
I reviewed Delilah Green Doesn't Care on this blog previously, and if you've read that post, you'll know that I absolutely adore it. I'm not huge on contemporary romances, let alone romcoms, but it really struck a chord with me that no other romance has managed to before. Her characters were relatable, the romance was just the right amount of fluffy and serious, and the entire book was just plain fantastic. However, with all of that being said... I'm afraid to say that Astrid Parker Doesn't Fail simply didn't satisfy me in the way the first book did.
Since this book is, first and foremost, a romance, I think the main issue is that Jordan and Astrid never feel quite as convincing, or as interesting, as Claire and Delilah were. Even when you don't compare the two books, many of the scenes between them are not that engaging. While I like both of them individually, the sparks between them feel sometimes lukewarm. Most of Blake's books have a lot of infodumping, and this one was no exception, but while typically I don't mind it, it felt as if it was doing most of the emotional footwork for the characters in this, never leaving any subtlety to their emotions or motivations. Instead of letting us (and Astrid and Jordan) figure it out for ourselves, we're told how they feel, why they feel it, and then they're immediately sent on the way to fix it.
The scene that sticks out most to me is when Astrid and Jordan go to the theater, and it's probably the best scene in the book, but I also wondered why they were divulging all of these secrets to one another, alcohol notwithstanding. It just felt... a little strange, and they hadn't quite had the development to make it seem believable. The narrative is punctuated by issues like these.
It's not that this book is awful (it's not), but none of it is really convincing. I also have to address how corny this book often is, and not in a cute way. Of course, it's kind of a given that when you read a cute romance (particularly one with comedic elements), there will be some corny moments, but it's usually the kind of corny that makes you smile. In this case, it made me cringe.
One more thing: Blake's takes on race and gender in this one made me pause. She uses the term "women and nonbinary people" pretty much nonstop, and I hate this. I hate this so much. Why does she conflate women with nonbinary people? What about people who associate themselves with masculinity? What about transmac people, who still identify as nonbinary or genderfluid? I could just go on about this, and it just struck me as so odd. She also describes everyone race first in this book, which felt really weird.
So, would I recommend it? To Blake's fans, probably. If you're a big fan of the romance genre, I think you'll probably enjoy this one, even if it's not the best you've ever read. For me, it was a bit of a drag: not the best, not the worst. I'll leave it up to you wise people whether you decide to pick it up or not!
emotional
funny
hopeful
inspiring
lighthearted
reflective
relaxing
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.0
Thank you to NetGalley and Berkley for allowing me to read this ARC!
Content Warning: cancer, cheating, emotional abuse (parental), verbal abuse (parental).
Astrid Parker has her life together. Although she's established herself as an ultra-successful interior designer, business hasn't exactly been booming lately, which is exactly why she needs all the exposure from Innside America that she can get. Filming an episode of the renovation of the local Everwood Inn, where Astrid is the lead designer, is just what she needs -- but what she doesn't expect is that she'll butt heads with the carpenter granddaughter of the inn's owner, Jordan Everwood. Jordan is dealing with her own personal issues and failure, and she's not in the best state of mind to deal with what she thinks of as Astrid's "uninspired" design for the inn. But against all odds, Jordan and Astrid find themselves growing closer, even as the showrunners encourage them to have on-camera conflict... and Astrid begins to realize that everything she thought she knew about herself might not be true after all.
I reviewed Delilah Green Doesn't Care on this blog previously, and if you've read that post, you'll know that I absolutely adore it. I'm not huge on contemporary romances, let alone romcoms, but it really struck a chord with me that no other romance has managed to before. Her characters were relatable, the romance was just the right amount of fluffy and serious, and the entire book was just plain fantastic. However, with all of that being said... I'm afraid to say that Astrid Parker Doesn't Fail simply didn't satisfy me in the way the first book did.
Since this book is, first and foremost, a romance, I think the main issue is that Jordan and Astrid never feel quite as convincing, or as interesting, as Claire and Delilah were. Even when you don't compare the two books, many of the scenes between them are not that engaging. While I like both of them individually, the sparks between them feel sometimes lukewarm. Most of Blake's books have a lot of infodumping, and this one was no exception, but while typically I don't mind it, it felt as if it was doing most of the emotional footwork for the characters in this, never leaving any subtlety to their emotions or motivations. Instead of letting us (and Astrid and Jordan) figure it out for ourselves, we're told how they feel, why they feel it, and then they're immediately sent on the way to fix it.
The scene that sticks out most to me is when Astrid and Jordan go to the theater, and it's probably the best scene in the book, but I also wondered why they were divulging all of these secrets to one another, alcohol notwithstanding. It just felt... a little strange, and they hadn't quite had the development to make it seem believable. The narrative is punctuated by issues like these.
It's not that this book is awful (it's not), but none of it is really convincing. I also have to address how corny this book often is, and not in a cute way. Of course, it's kind of a given that when you read a cute romance (particularly one with comedic elements), there will be some corny moments, but it's usually the kind of corny that makes you smile. In this case, it made me cringe.
One more thing: Blake's takes on race and gender in this one made me pause. She uses the term "women and nonbinary people" pretty much nonstop, and I hate this. I hate this so much. Why does she conflate women with nonbinary people? What about people who associate themselves with masculinity? What about transmac people, who still identify as nonbinary or genderfluid? I could just go on about this, and it just struck me as so odd. She also describes everyone race first in this book, which felt really weird.
So, would I recommend it? To Blake's fans, probably. If you're a big fan of the romance genre, I think you'll probably enjoy this one, even if it's not the best you've ever read. For me, it was a bit of a drag: not the best, not the worst. I'll leave it up to you wise people whether you decide to pick it up or not!
Idol, Burning by Rin Usami
challenging
dark
emotional
hopeful
reflective
sad
tense
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
3.0
Thank you to NetGalley and HarperVia for allowing me to read this ARC!
Content Warning: physical abuse, domestic violence, ableism, parental abuse (emotional and verbal).
Akari thinks of nothing but her oshi, Masaki Ueno, an actor and member of the J-Pop band "Maza Maza." Her life revolves around him: when he eats, she eats; when he says goodnight on his livestream, she goes to sleep; the beat and rhythm of his songs determine her walking pace. Outside of her obsession, Akari struggles to make sense of her world -- and then there's a scandal. It turns out that Masaki has assaulted a female fan (rumored to actually be his girlfriend or fiancée), and as Akari tries to fight against the tide of hatred for him, she must also determine whether or not life goes on without her idol.
Fandom spaces are intimately familiar to me; I've been an active member of various ones since I was around eleven years old. Although I'd never describe myself as having been a superfan of anything (at least, not to the extent that Akari is), it's easy for me to understand where she comes from, especially when the internet is now dominated by fans of boybands like BTS. There's a unique sense of both isolation and belonging that comes with speaking to fellow fans online, with the feeling of having a community that understands you in a way that those in your real life do not.
Our protagonist, Akari, is a sort of springboard for these sorts of questions and ideas. While she idolizes Masaki, she also isn't the sort of fan who wants to be close with him, at least not physically -- she prefers the safety of having a screen between them, or a screaming crowd. Still, she does her best to understand him, obsessed with the idea that she alone is able to "get him" on a level that everyone else simply doesn't. It's something relevant in her own life: in spite of the fact that she's been diagnosed with an undisclosed learning disability (or that's what I assumed it to be: although ADHD is not considered one, I personally saw myself in Akari's struggles with what other people see as "easy" or "simple" tasks), her family makes little to no effort to understand her -- and even verbally and emotionally abuses her as she struggles.
And that's really the entire point of fandom and stan culture, isn't it? An escape, a way outside of yourself. Usami's writing is clever, though I found myself often thinking that some of the sentences were strange, perhaps because it's just so hard to translate the essence of something into another language. This book is very short (not even 200 pages), and some of it felt rushed. I would've actually liked to spend more time with Akari, though reading this book was a bit painful for me, as it so intensely exposed elements of myself that I fight with (being perceived as lazy, difficult, struggling with little things, and how it sometimes feels as if there's a whole world separating you from people who are "normal," or at least neurotypical).
At the end of the day, her oshi is really not a man, not even really a human: he is a figure to project her desires and hopes onto. There's even a line I found very telling, that truly sums up why I think so many fans seem strangely upset when their idols marry or date or get caught smoking or drinking: "He was no longer an idol; he was a man."
Sometimes this book can be a bit heavy-handed, one of the reasons I chose three stars for its rating. There's an occasional lack of subtlety which I think this book needs. That being said, I recommend this and I think it will start many interesting conversations about the ways we invade celebrity lives.
Such a Pretty Girl by T. Greenwood
In 1976, Ryan Flannigan became a star. Only ten years old at the time, she's haunted by a past of exploitation and a fame that she never craved. Now, in 2019, she's living a quiet life in Vermont with her daughter, but everything she's tried so hard to escape all comes crashing back in when she's made aware of a devastating news report involving a controversial photograph taken of her when she was a little girl. That photo has been found in the hands of a billionaire pedophile and sex trafficker, but the worst of it is that Ryan's mother herself gifted it to him. Forced to confront her neglectful mother and the question of her innocence, Ryan reminisces on the path to her stardom and her lost youth.
Clearly inspired by the often controversial life of former child stat Brooke Shields, as well as the recent scandal involving Epstein and his accomplices, Such a Pretty Girl is a harrowing, well-done account of the push and pull between a selfish mother and the daughter who -- like all children -- wants to give her everything.
Mainly character-driven, Such a Pretty Girl is at its strongest when Ryan is evaluating her past, opening herself up to the painful questions that plague her about her the degree of involvement her mother has had with not only Ryan's exploitation, but the exploitation of other young girls. It's certainly a timely novel, and I think that Greenwood handles all of the issues addressed with remarkable grace.
As a whole, I would highly recommend this novel, especially for its beautiful descriptions of life in the '70s and its protagonist coming to terms with her mother's abuse. It is often a difficult read, but one certainly worth the time and effort.
adventurous
challenging
dark
emotional
reflective
sad
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? It's complicated
4.5
Thank you to NetGalley and Kensington for allowing me to read this ARC!
Content Warning: pedophilia, sexual assault, misogyny, racism, homophobia, homophobic slurs.
In 1976, Ryan Flannigan became a star. Only ten years old at the time, she's haunted by a past of exploitation and a fame that she never craved. Now, in 2019, she's living a quiet life in Vermont with her daughter, but everything she's tried so hard to escape all comes crashing back in when she's made aware of a devastating news report involving a controversial photograph taken of her when she was a little girl. That photo has been found in the hands of a billionaire pedophile and sex trafficker, but the worst of it is that Ryan's mother herself gifted it to him. Forced to confront her neglectful mother and the question of her innocence, Ryan reminisces on the path to her stardom and her lost youth.
Clearly inspired by the often controversial life of former child stat Brooke Shields, as well as the recent scandal involving Epstein and his accomplices, Such a Pretty Girl is a harrowing, well-done account of the push and pull between a selfish mother and the daughter who -- like all children -- wants to give her everything.
This story is a painful journey. Of course, it's easy to sympathize with our heroine, Ryan, who we follow from her childhood up until adulthood. Now a mother herself, Ryan looks back and recognizes her mother's neglect and the way she was exploited, with no one willing to protect her. Her relationship with Sasha, her daughter, is beautifully done, as she struggles to balance giving Sasha her freedom without suffocating her. As for the complicated, uncomfortable relationship between Ryan and her own mother, Greenwood is impressive in her capability to show us the mingled love and hate, the way that Ryan both craves her mother's love and is never sure of its reliability.
Mainly character-driven, Such a Pretty Girl is at its strongest when Ryan is evaluating her past, opening herself up to the painful questions that plague her about her the degree of involvement her mother has had with not only Ryan's exploitation, but the exploitation of other young girls. It's certainly a timely novel, and I think that Greenwood handles all of the issues addressed with remarkable grace.
As a whole, I would highly recommend this novel, especially for its beautiful descriptions of life in the '70s and its protagonist coming to terms with her mother's abuse. It is often a difficult read, but one certainly worth the time and effort.
Daughters of the New Year by E.M. Tran
adventurous
challenging
emotional
reflective
sad
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.0
Thank you to NetGalley and Hanover Square Press for allowing me to read this ARC!
Content Warning: death, violence, racism, misogyny, emotional abuse, sexual harassment, rape, colonization.
The Trung family lives in modern-day New Orleans, Louisiana. The three daughters are all completely different, but each is striving for her own kind of peace and freedom in her life: Trac, the eldest, a respected lawyer who is coming to terms with her sexuality; Nhi, who has joined a dating show in the hopes of making it big as an actress; and the baby of the family, Trieu, who is finding it difficult to find her place in life at all. Their mother, Xuan, the former Saigon beauty queen of 1973, tries desperately to determine her daughters' fates through the usage of the Vietnamese Zodiac, but in her attempts, ends up pushing them further away from her. As they all try to come to terms with both their pasts and their inevitable futures, E.M. Tran traces the lineage of the Trung women through history, asking questions about the value of learned histories, and what it means to be a daughter and a mother.
The concept of tracing a female line of ancestors back through time is what sold this book to me. As someone who absolutely loves generational stories that deal with the history of a singular family, I had a feeling that E.M. Tran's Daughters of the New Year would be something that would offer both something new to me, and something familiar that I already adore. Even in my quest to read more diverse books, I've actually read few novels by Vietnamese authors, and I was so excited to pick this up and delve into a story that deals with some of Vietnam's complicated past while never forgetting to center the powerful female characters that make this so compulsively readable.
The story starts with Xuan Trung, the Metal Tiger mother of the three Trung girls, as she tries to divine their fate for the coming New Year. We quickly get the feeling that the girls feel both drawn to their mother's stories, even as they struggle with their mixed disdain and love for their mother's forceful belief in the Zodiac and astrology. All of the characters in this book are equally strong, and although it's usually a given that I'll have a favorite when reading something with multiple POV characters, this time, I felt entranced by every single woman that Tran puts on the page. Although this story deals with themes of racism, being an outsider, and most especially the complicated relationships unique to immigrant families, any daughter or mother reading this -- no matter where she's from, who she is, or the particular circumstances that make up her life -- will instantly see themselves in the Trung women.
Tran's exploration of generational pain and trauma is powerful. She asks the important question that has plagued families since the dawn of time: how important are learned histories, and when and how should they be relayed to children? There's no real "right" answer, but even painful histories are important, particularly, I think, to the children of immigrants. The desire to know where your family comes from, what has shaped them into who they are, is something all of us yearn for.
My only complaints with this book are mainly selfish: the timeline goes backwards, and so we have only our own imagination when it comes to what happens to Tran, Nhi, Trieu and their mother! I would have loved to see a bit of closure, but honestly, I think that's another element of what Tran is talking about here -- for many families, there is no "closure." Perhaps Xuan will never be able to talk about the fall of Saigon, or her life before Vietnam was torn in two. Perhaps the girls will never quite find the answers they're looking for. It's a meditation on the sometimes unspeakable past. There were moments where Tran's writing could be a bit simplistic, losing me a little, but the story itself is so powerful that it didn't alter my rating by much.
Highly recommended!
House of Hunger by Alexis Henderson
adventurous
dark
emotional
mysterious
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.0
Thank you to NetGalley and Berkley for allowing me to read this ARC!
Content Warning: death, murder, violence, sexual harassment, animal death.
Marion Shaw has grown up on the streets of Prane, forced to learn how to thieve and manipulate for survival. Now, as a grown woman, she lives a life of drudgery, working as a housemaid. Secretly, she aspires for something better, a world outside of the poverty and deprivation that is the cornerstone of her life. This time, when she sees the advertisement for a Bloodmaid in the papers, she decides that the luxury they promise will be hers -- and, in a shocking turn of events, she is picked to go and live in the House of Hunger, one of the great, blood-drinking houses of the North. But when Marion arrives, she quickly learns that not all is as it seems -- and that the price of being a Bloodmaid is far higher than she ever could've imagined.
The beautiful cover and interesting, rather unique premise drew me towards this book. Gothic is certainly having its revival, which I'm quite excited about, and I was secretly hoping that this book would be a twist on sapphic horror/love stories like Carmilla, or the wonderful reimagining of Erzsébet Báthory and her lover's life in Borowczyk's Immoral Tales (the standout of the film, which perfectly mixes eroticism and death). This, too, is based off the legends around Báthory's purported love of blood and torture of her female servants, but as it turns out, House of Hunger never quite reaches the full potential it's capable of, even with such fascinating figures as Báthory being inspiration.
Admirably, though, Henderson is never short on ideas, and if anything, this book is unique. I've never read anything quite like it before, and I sincerely doubt that I will in the future, either. It was a surprise to me that this was actually secondary fantasy; when I picked it up, I assumed it would be taking place in our own world, not in one of Henderson's creation. Some people felt that this bold move didn't pay off, but for me, I rather liked it. It doesn't always feel fully fleshed out, but all in all, I think that Henderson does a pretty good job making her world captivating.
The protagonist, Marion, is one of the reasons this didn't manage to rise above three stars for me. As the novel progresses, it seems as if Marion doesn't grow as a character, and in some ways, her emotions and her personality remain static over the entirety of her journey. There was a lack of depth that left me feeling a bit confused -- and I had this same problem with all of the side characters, as well as Marion's mistress/lover, Lisavet. In the very first scene with Lisavet, I had an inkling of what Henderson could've achieved with her character. She came off as complex, dark, a little strange. But once again, the same problem arises: everything feels slightly shallow.
I think the length of House of Hunger is one of its faults, and, in fact, one of the reasons why everything feels as if it's lacking a certain depth. I rarely ever say this, but it was simply too short. For everything that Marion goes through, there was not enough time for any of it to feel realistic. She falls in love, out of love, she apparently strikes up this deep rapport with her fellow bloodmaids... and yet I couldn't bring myself to really believe any of it. Everything happens way, way too fast, and the times she actually interacts with Lisavet in any meaningful way, on page, are few and far between. The plot, too, is rushed, and many things don't make sense (some of which I cannot mention without spoiling the entire thing).
Overall, while I did enjoy the journey, and some of the storytelling was lovely, the entire experience of reading House of Hunger just felt average. Some of Henderson's writing is truly beautiful, but there were so many amateur mistakes that left me thinking this was actually her debut, another problem that perhaps prevented me from "clicking" with this book.
Although I didn't love this, I think so many people will. I love its darkness, the way it lets its female characters be ugly and vulgar and mean and petty, and Henderson's way of looking at her characters as complex regardless of their acts of villainy.
Recommended if you love Gothics, female characters who are allowed the full spectrum of emotion (the good, the bad, and the ugly), and dark fantasy.
Because I Could Not Stop for Death by Amanda Flower
Content Warning: death, murder, violence, animal cruelty, racism, misogyny.
Willa Noble is over the moon when she's employed as a housemaid by the Dickinsons. It isn't by chance that she is hired, however: it's Emily Dickinson herself who instructs the head maid to take Willa on. Not much time has passed when tragedy strikes, and Willa's brother, Henry, is killed in what the police are calling an accident. Emily and Willa suspect that something else is afoot, however, and with the help of her eccentric employer, Willa is determined to find out who killed her brother -- at any cost.
What is it about Emily Dickinson that still fascinates us to this day? Her rich, private inner life? The way she still remains somewhat shrouded in mystery, even after all this time? We are always looking for a glimpse into her world, however small. When I picked up Because I Could Not Stop for Death, that's what I was hoping for, in spite of the fact that it takes place from the point of view of her maid -- an insight into Emily's secretive world. Disappointingly enough, though, we never quite get that chance.
To start with, all of the characters in this book are, sadly, strangely shallow. Many of them feel like caricatures, and despite the fact that Flower attempts to add depth to them through stories of their backgrounds, it does little to enrich them or add to their personalities. Willa, our main character, suffers from this same problem too -- although we're seeing everything happening through her eyes, all of her thoughts and observations feel rudimentary. Even now, I'm not exactly sure what I'd list as her character traits. Emily, Willa's brother, the rest of the Dickinson family, and, essentially, every character in these pages has a dearth of charisma.
The plot and mystery itself are basic, never able to rise above the average, everyday mystery you might pick up. The historical setting is certainly well-researched, but the stilted dialogue doesn't transport you to the era, but instead makes it feel as if everyone is clunky and awkward. Emily's dialogue suffers the most from this, probably because there are attempts at capturing her unique way of writing through her voice, but it just doesn't work. Willa and Emily claim to be investigating the death of Willa's brother, but the steps they take to do this are basic, never really fleshed-out. The "investigation" doesn't really yield any interesting clues or hints that help the reader to make their own assumptions.
Ultimately, this book just doesn't succeed in what it sets out to do. The questions raised here, about class and race, are good, but as with the rest, underdeveloped and overstated. The writing is so blunt, so set on making sure you're understanding what's going on, that it seems to imply the reader is too stupid to figure it out.
Not for me, but I'm sure there are many people out there who will enjoy the historical setting and time period, which Flower pulls off pretty well!
adventurous
dark
emotional
informative
mysterious
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- 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
2.0
Thank you to NetGalley and Berkley Publishing for allowing me to read this ARC!
Content Warning: death, murder, violence, animal cruelty, racism, misogyny.
Willa Noble is over the moon when she's employed as a housemaid by the Dickinsons. It isn't by chance that she is hired, however: it's Emily Dickinson herself who instructs the head maid to take Willa on. Not much time has passed when tragedy strikes, and Willa's brother, Henry, is killed in what the police are calling an accident. Emily and Willa suspect that something else is afoot, however, and with the help of her eccentric employer, Willa is determined to find out who killed her brother -- at any cost.
What is it about Emily Dickinson that still fascinates us to this day? Her rich, private inner life? The way she still remains somewhat shrouded in mystery, even after all this time? We are always looking for a glimpse into her world, however small. When I picked up Because I Could Not Stop for Death, that's what I was hoping for, in spite of the fact that it takes place from the point of view of her maid -- an insight into Emily's secretive world. Disappointingly enough, though, we never quite get that chance.
To start with, all of the characters in this book are, sadly, strangely shallow. Many of them feel like caricatures, and despite the fact that Flower attempts to add depth to them through stories of their backgrounds, it does little to enrich them or add to their personalities. Willa, our main character, suffers from this same problem too -- although we're seeing everything happening through her eyes, all of her thoughts and observations feel rudimentary. Even now, I'm not exactly sure what I'd list as her character traits. Emily, Willa's brother, the rest of the Dickinson family, and, essentially, every character in these pages has a dearth of charisma.
The plot and mystery itself are basic, never able to rise above the average, everyday mystery you might pick up. The historical setting is certainly well-researched, but the stilted dialogue doesn't transport you to the era, but instead makes it feel as if everyone is clunky and awkward. Emily's dialogue suffers the most from this, probably because there are attempts at capturing her unique way of writing through her voice, but it just doesn't work. Willa and Emily claim to be investigating the death of Willa's brother, but the steps they take to do this are basic, never really fleshed-out. The "investigation" doesn't really yield any interesting clues or hints that help the reader to make their own assumptions.
Ultimately, this book just doesn't succeed in what it sets out to do. The questions raised here, about class and race, are good, but as with the rest, underdeveloped and overstated. The writing is so blunt, so set on making sure you're understanding what's going on, that it seems to imply the reader is too stupid to figure it out.
Not for me, but I'm sure there are many people out there who will enjoy the historical setting and time period, which Flower pulls off pretty well!