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nicdoeswords's reviews
75 reviews
The Late Americans by Brandon Taylor
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
I was really in the mood for some meditative, abstract, quality literary fiction when I picked up The Late Americans, and it did not disappoint.
I'm always really interested in the reasons people don't like books I loved. This book has a lower review average on both this site and other review sites than most books I pick up. Aside from some obvious reasons (Taylor is Black and gay, and writers a really diverse set of characters who are messy and deeply flawed), I also think the structure of this novel challenged people. It reads like a set of interconnected short stories โ the difference between this and a short story collection being, in my opinion, that each story does progress the plot of the ones that came before it, even if we don't see the impact of that right away. Even just the passage of time makes a difference in the lives of each of our POV characters, of which there are many. Also, the jacket copy sets up really interesting expectations! One of the things that is summarized therein doesn't happen until literally the final chapter of the book. It's not really a "spoiler" because we don't meet most of the characters involved until at least halfway through anyway, but I think it was a bold choice to summarize the book using that particular lake house trip. And yet, I don't mind it! It conveys the book's themes strongly and for me, it worked.
(Also, a lot of the critiques of this book complain that there's too much sex. It's literally an adult litfic novel about queer art students in Iowa City. Are we kidding?) (And the sex scenes do a lot of character and theme work, anyway! Everyone go read Body Work by Melissa Febos and then come back and talk to me, but until then I don't want to hear it.)
Frankly, most things about this book worked really well for me. Maybe I'm just a big Brandon Taylor fan, but I think the quality of his prose is actively reassuring as a reader. We're going somewhere for a reason, and with a purpose. The themes will come together, and also you'll have to do a lot of work on your own to make the connections that will help you get the most out of your reading experience. This book doesn't hand over any easy answers. At the same time, Taylor really likes to engage his characters in conversation about political ideology. The discussions in this book about race, money, sexuality, gendered violence, privilege, justice... it's a really layered text! I saw an interview he did where he talked about his desire to write about characters whose views he doesn't personally share, and I think he did an incredible job presenting lived-in ideologies and letting different characters' beliefs come into conflict during scenes.
The Late Americans is in many ways a meditation on how we come to terms with ourselves in early adulthood. Where do we come from? What are we scared of? What comes next? How much do we have to feel guilty about? How do we get it right? And why do we keep getting it wrong instead? I love all of these big questions. I love a book that grapples but doesn't pretend to land on an easy answer.
The setting work here is brilliant. I've never been to Iowa City or to the midwest at all, but I felt so connected to the sticky summers and the kitchen in the hospice and the too-narrow dance studio classroom and the poet's bar, all of the locations in the text that felt so lived-in and present. There's a real melancholy rooted in place here, paired with the liminality of living there as a college student and knowing you'll leave soon, and so will everyone else. (Or, at least, everyone else who matters to you. The tension between locals and students was touched on too and really struck me.)
This book has a lot of violence, and specifically a lot of sexual violence. There are uncomfortable, slow scenes. The "bad guys" don't get punished in any kind of a narratively satisfying way, and people who you're glad to see break up end up back together two chapters later. Taylor's ability to paint realistic portraits of life didn't fail to impress me here. Did I like Real Life better? I think so, but time might sway me to The Late Americans. A lot of people didn't like The Late Americans very much at all. I think they're wrong for that.
Maybe I'm just a contrarian. Either way, this book was a win for me.
I'm always really interested in the reasons people don't like books I loved. This book has a lower review average on both this site and other review sites than most books I pick up. Aside from some obvious reasons (Taylor is Black and gay, and writers a really diverse set of characters who are messy and deeply flawed), I also think the structure of this novel challenged people. It reads like a set of interconnected short stories โ the difference between this and a short story collection being, in my opinion, that each story does progress the plot of the ones that came before it, even if we don't see the impact of that right away. Even just the passage of time makes a difference in the lives of each of our POV characters, of which there are many. Also, the jacket copy sets up really interesting expectations! One of the things that is summarized therein doesn't happen until literally the final chapter of the book. It's not really a "spoiler" because we don't meet most of the characters involved until at least halfway through anyway, but I think it was a bold choice to summarize the book using that particular lake house trip. And yet, I don't mind it! It conveys the book's themes strongly and for me, it worked.
(Also, a lot of the critiques of this book complain that there's too much sex. It's literally an adult litfic novel about queer art students in Iowa City. Are we kidding?) (And the sex scenes do a lot of character and theme work, anyway! Everyone go read Body Work by Melissa Febos and then come back and talk to me, but until then I don't want to hear it.)
Frankly, most things about this book worked really well for me. Maybe I'm just a big Brandon Taylor fan, but I think the quality of his prose is actively reassuring as a reader. We're going somewhere for a reason, and with a purpose. The themes will come together, and also you'll have to do a lot of work on your own to make the connections that will help you get the most out of your reading experience. This book doesn't hand over any easy answers. At the same time, Taylor really likes to engage his characters in conversation about political ideology. The discussions in this book about race, money, sexuality, gendered violence, privilege, justice... it's a really layered text! I saw an interview he did where he talked about his desire to write about characters whose views he doesn't personally share, and I think he did an incredible job presenting lived-in ideologies and letting different characters' beliefs come into conflict during scenes.
The Late Americans is in many ways a meditation on how we come to terms with ourselves in early adulthood. Where do we come from? What are we scared of? What comes next? How much do we have to feel guilty about? How do we get it right? And why do we keep getting it wrong instead? I love all of these big questions. I love a book that grapples but doesn't pretend to land on an easy answer.
The setting work here is brilliant. I've never been to Iowa City or to the midwest at all, but I felt so connected to the sticky summers and the kitchen in the hospice and the too-narrow dance studio classroom and the poet's bar, all of the locations in the text that felt so lived-in and present. There's a real melancholy rooted in place here, paired with the liminality of living there as a college student and knowing you'll leave soon, and so will everyone else. (Or, at least, everyone else who matters to you. The tension between locals and students was touched on too and really struck me.)
This book has a lot of violence, and specifically a lot of sexual violence. There are uncomfortable, slow scenes. The "bad guys" don't get punished in any kind of a narratively satisfying way, and people who you're glad to see break up end up back together two chapters later. Taylor's ability to paint realistic portraits of life didn't fail to impress me here. Did I like Real Life better? I think so, but time might sway me to The Late Americans. A lot of people didn't like The Late Americans very much at all. I think they're wrong for that.
Maybe I'm just a contrarian. Either way, this book was a win for me.
Book Lovers by Emily Henry
funny
lighthearted
fast-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
Oh, what fun! Needed something light after finishing Exordia and this fit the bill perfectly. This is a romance novel with a lot of heart, and the characters in Henry's novels often have more depth than I've come to expect from the genre. Pair that with the leads' fabulous, bitingly funny chemistry and a swoonworthy setting, and you have one of my new ult fave romance novels.
Exordia by Seth Dickinson
adventurous
challenging
dark
emotional
funny
informative
tense
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
4.5
I just finished reading and need to marinate, but also this book took me on a goddamn ride. Thank you to Tor Publishing via Netgalley for the review copy of this book! All opinions are my own.
And you know what a soul's made of, right? Oh, yes. A soul is made of stories.
Exordia is mostly a book about international militaries responding to threats of the destruction of Earth via alien nukes. Mostly. It's also about: the shape/structure/purpose of the human soul, narrative and story on the meta level, family and reconciliation, what it means to "do the right thing", and, in its own way, how love makes us simultaneously better and worse at any given moment. Oh, and a lot of theoretical math and physics (not kidding, Dickinson does not hold back here). Dickinson packs this story with themes alongside rich, complex worldbuilding and massive moral questions.
What Dickinson sells, I buy. The Traitor Baru Cormorant was one of my favorite reads of last year, an out-of-the-park swing at historical fantasy, genocide, imperialism, queerness, sacrifice, and, of course, betrayal. Exordia touches on a lot of the same themes, but from a wildly different angle. This is hard sci fi. Like I said: aliens. And also nukes.
The text is a monster of meta. If you're not interested in stories about story/narrative/structure/etc then you will find this boring, and probably verging on obnoxious and soapboxy. I, however, am a narrative therapist, and also a writer, and am obsessed with the way Dickinson incorporated the idea that stories have power into such a complicated war story.
I noted in one of my updates while reading that the sentence-level prose in this book is fantastic. I think it's deeply quotable and frankly brilliant in terms of how it structures specific revelations and introduces us to characters. I couldn't believe how quickly I came to care about some of these people, including POVs we only jumped into briefly. This book takes into a LOT of people's heads and takes its turns between limited third person perspective, omniscient third perspective, and some very creative first person perspective too. I like experimental writing so that all worked for me, but it could be disorienting I think.
Dickinson writes large-scale conflict the way litfic writers approach relationships. We're so zoomed out for so much of this story, but still rooted so deeply in character motivations. Dickinson sweeps us through combat decisions, specific battles, strategic maneuvering, to the point that I found myself holding my breath with every new development. I can find war stories boring. This one was not, and probably because the stakes felt so real. Exordia doesn't hesitate to kill off characters. No one has plot armor, every threat is real, and the enemy is terrifying and smarter than you could ever hope to be. I had no idea where this book was going for the entirety of the first.... 60 percent, maybe, but by the end I found that everything made sense.
I do understand the critiques that the pacing was wonky and the second half of the book didn't live up to the setup. I don't really agree, but I also am just a huge fan of Dickinson's writing! I loved this, sue me! Elements of the second half of this book made me cry, gasp, text outraged things to friends, and stare despondently at the wall. I had a lot of feelings!!! I think they were all earned by the story!!! Sorry for the exclamation points I just think certain characters deserve the world and also that it kind of rules that me thinking that didn't make me think they were any safer or less safe from the dangers of this plot just for being great. I do want to acknowledge, though, that the first ~5-10% of the story does not set you up to expect what comes later. The story takes some pretty drastic turns! If you're in it for a more domestic and fantastical spin on things, you may be disappointed by how grounded and grimly clinical a lot of the rest of the book ends up being.
Overall, Exordia was a win for me. I definitely thought it was a standalone (it does not appear to be from that ending!), but I'll be sticking around for book 2 because I'm burningly curious, and at this point I trust Dickinson's writing to take me wherever it wants.
This book is a hard sell as a recommender (queer military-oriented borderline grimdark hard sci fi with lots of body horror and physics/math descriptions, close to 700 pages in my ebook version), but I think it can find its readers, and I am definitely one of them.
And you know what a soul's made of, right? Oh, yes. A soul is made of stories.
Exordia is mostly a book about international militaries responding to threats of the destruction of Earth via alien nukes. Mostly. It's also about: the shape/structure/purpose of the human soul, narrative and story on the meta level, family and reconciliation, what it means to "do the right thing", and, in its own way, how love makes us simultaneously better and worse at any given moment. Oh, and a lot of theoretical math and physics (not kidding, Dickinson does not hold back here). Dickinson packs this story with themes alongside rich, complex worldbuilding and massive moral questions.
What Dickinson sells, I buy. The Traitor Baru Cormorant was one of my favorite reads of last year, an out-of-the-park swing at historical fantasy, genocide, imperialism, queerness, sacrifice, and, of course, betrayal. Exordia touches on a lot of the same themes, but from a wildly different angle. This is hard sci fi. Like I said: aliens. And also nukes.
The text is a monster of meta. If you're not interested in stories about story/narrative/structure/etc then you will find this boring, and probably verging on obnoxious and soapboxy. I, however, am a narrative therapist, and also a writer, and am obsessed with the way Dickinson incorporated the idea that stories have power into such a complicated war story.
I noted in one of my updates while reading that the sentence-level prose in this book is fantastic. I think it's deeply quotable and frankly brilliant in terms of how it structures specific revelations and introduces us to characters. I couldn't believe how quickly I came to care about some of these people, including POVs we only jumped into briefly. This book takes into a LOT of people's heads and takes its turns between limited third person perspective, omniscient third perspective, and some very creative first person perspective too. I like experimental writing so that all worked for me, but it could be disorienting I think.
Dickinson writes large-scale conflict the way litfic writers approach relationships. We're so zoomed out for so much of this story, but still rooted so deeply in character motivations. Dickinson sweeps us through combat decisions, specific battles, strategic maneuvering, to the point that I found myself holding my breath with every new development. I can find war stories boring. This one was not, and probably because the stakes felt so real. Exordia doesn't hesitate to kill off characters. No one has plot armor, every threat is real, and the enemy is terrifying and smarter than you could ever hope to be. I had no idea where this book was going for the entirety of the first.... 60 percent, maybe, but by the end I found that everything made sense.
I do understand the critiques that the pacing was wonky and the second half of the book didn't live up to the setup. I don't really agree, but I also am just a huge fan of Dickinson's writing! I loved this, sue me! Elements of the second half of this book made me cry, gasp, text outraged things to friends, and stare despondently at the wall. I had a lot of feelings!!! I think they were all earned by the story!!! Sorry for the exclamation points I just think certain characters deserve the world and also that it kind of rules that me thinking that didn't make me think they were any safer or less safe from the dangers of this plot just for being great. I do want to acknowledge, though, that the first ~5-10% of the story does not set you up to expect what comes later. The story takes some pretty drastic turns! If you're in it for a more domestic and fantastical spin on things, you may be disappointed by how grounded and grimly clinical a lot of the rest of the book ends up being.
Overall, Exordia was a win for me. I definitely thought it was a standalone (it does not appear to be from that ending!), but I'll be sticking around for book 2 because I'm burningly curious, and at this point I trust Dickinson's writing to take me wherever it wants.
This book is a hard sell as a recommender (queer military-oriented borderline grimdark hard sci fi with lots of body horror and physics/math descriptions, close to 700 pages in my ebook version), but I think it can find its readers, and I am definitely one of them.
The Heart Principle by Helen Hoang
Deeply charming! I picked this up on a whim because I loved The Kiss Quotient when I read it years ago and Helen Hoang does not miss for me. This book was so compulsively readable that I sailed through it in less than 24 hours with no intention of doing so. Very romantic even as it tackled a few big heavy issues with what I felt was sensitivity and grace. Anna and Quan are perfect and this book gave me exactly what I wanted it to. ๐
Body Work by Melissa Febos
challenging
informative
inspiring
reflective
5.0
I've been moving away from star ratings recently, but I need to convey how much of a five star read this was. Affecting and reflective, Febos writes about gentleness with incisive clarity. This book reminded me how much of my peace is hard-won, and how long the path still is to confronting all of my Stuff and making space for how that confrontation will necessarily change me. I saved over a dozen lines from this relatively slim text. It is feminist, intersectional, and determined to speak truth to experience. Much like a good memoirist, I suppose, which feels like an important meta-reflection too.
This book is sort of about writing about sex, and sort of about writing memoir, and sort of about womanhood and patriarchy, and entirely about how saying the hard part out loud can save us. Febos makes no promises here that don't feel merited. If you write the story, it might not be good, but if you're honest then you'll gain something from the process no matter what.
Febos impressed me a lot with the level of intertextuality here. The bibliography at the end has become a reading map for me, and I look forward to exploring the full texts of some of the works she excerpted and discussed within Body Work. I also appreciated the footnotes, which sometimes served as pithy asides and other times reflected things Febos chose to cut or avoid focusing on and why; other times still, they added context to a text she was referencing or a story she told from her own childhood.
I'd also be remiss if I completed this review without commenting on craft. Febos' sentences are electric. She writes with confidence and verve. I'm not religious, but the chapter on spirituality and confession was deeply connecting, and I want to go back and dissect it to understand how it managed to bypass my skepticism and land in what feels like universal truth, and is more likely an honestly portrayed experience of human emotion.
This text is a little bit academic and, at times, quite angry with the way our world works, and the systems therein that disadvantage some people over others. I loved it, and recommend it unreservedly.
This book is sort of about writing about sex, and sort of about writing memoir, and sort of about womanhood and patriarchy, and entirely about how saying the hard part out loud can save us. Febos makes no promises here that don't feel merited. If you write the story, it might not be good, but if you're honest then you'll gain something from the process no matter what.
Febos impressed me a lot with the level of intertextuality here. The bibliography at the end has become a reading map for me, and I look forward to exploring the full texts of some of the works she excerpted and discussed within Body Work. I also appreciated the footnotes, which sometimes served as pithy asides and other times reflected things Febos chose to cut or avoid focusing on and why; other times still, they added context to a text she was referencing or a story she told from her own childhood.
I'd also be remiss if I completed this review without commenting on craft. Febos' sentences are electric. She writes with confidence and verve. I'm not religious, but the chapter on spirituality and confession was deeply connecting, and I want to go back and dissect it to understand how it managed to bypass my skepticism and land in what feels like universal truth, and is more likely an honestly portrayed experience of human emotion.
This text is a little bit academic and, at times, quite angry with the way our world works, and the systems therein that disadvantage some people over others. I loved it, and recommend it unreservedly.
Postcolonial Love Poem by Natalie Diaz
Stunning! I love that Diaz included notes at the end of the collection for more on certain cultural references or even just context for the poems themselves (one, for example, she notes was written on a "micro-residency" during a one-night hotel stay). This collection is unapologetically queer and critical of the colonial project that is the US. Beautiful and will stick with me. I screenshotted a lot of lines and hope to have a hard copy for my collection someday.
How to Keep House While Drowning: A Gentle Approach to Cleaning and Organizing by KC Davis
This felt like a tight and solid summary of Davis' social media presence, which I'd been following! Lots of great stuff in here on shame reduction and some practical tips for keeping spaces functional rather than worrying about everything being 100% presentable all the time. Will definitely use some of the strategies, but I think this book is best for an introduction to deconstructing shame in relation to housework.
Doom Rolled in Glitter by Leena Norms
Series of poems about being a twenty-something, and specifically about the transition from girlhood to womanhood from the poet's POV. My favorite poem was the penultimate "make art for your friends" which resonated with me as a creative person whose friends also like to make art :')
I Keep My Exoskeletons to Myself by Marisa Crane
Glum-but-funny speculative literary fiction about grief, motherhood, and punitive justice. Very voicey, and very loose/stream-of-consciousness narrative structure (reminiscent of Emily Austin's Everyone in This Room Will Someday Be Dead). I thought the last third especially gathered momentum and executed its promises well. Very fast read.
Content Warnings
Moderate: Miscarriage
Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life by Anne Lamott
funny
inspiring
lighthearted
reflective
medium-paced
4.0
Would recommend this to the circuitous writer for whom outlines donโt offer much. Lamott shares about the intangibles of writing, the spiritual nature of connecting to our own lives, and how to thieve everything for your words. Enjoyable and a quick read!