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12 reviews
Where Only Storms Grow: A Novel About the Dust Bowl by Alyssa Colman
Where Only Storms Grow is told from the perspectives of 12-year-old twins Joanna and Howe Stanton. Through circumstances both necessary and unfortunate, much of the burden to save their family's farm falls onto the young twins. But their tense relationship and individual burdens make this task all the more daunting.
I found both Joanna and Howe to be compelling protagonists. While both twins face the same issue of saving the family farm, they also have their differences. Joanna and Howe have unique struggles, values, and aspirations that make each of their stories stand out. Howe's dreams of being a writer pull at readers' hearts, and his pain at being unable to pursue his passion is something to which many can relate. His yearning and passion are so vividly portrayed that you can't help but root for him along his journey.
Howe's twin sister, Joanna Stanton, is equally endearing. Smothered by her mother's concern for her scoliosis, Joanna often feels frustrated and hopeless. But when she gets a job at a local hospital, the entire world begins to open up for her. Joanna's character growth arc is nothing short of inspiring. And I don't just mean that in the "disabled people are inspiring" way, but in the "I love stories about people who learn to see potential in the world" way. Through her work, Joanna finds meaning, and I connect with this concept on a personal level, making her story all the more meaningful.
Of course, Joanna's disability is also an excellent part of Where Only Storms Grow. Author Alyssa Colman also has scoliosis, and Joanna's symptoms are largely based on her own. We all know that I'm a massive advocate for OwnVoices stories, and this is an excellent one. It's so rare to see disabilities represented in novels (or maybe I'm just not reading the right novels), but Colman does an outstanding job of weaving Joanna's scoliosis into her character and the overarching plot. I learned a lot about scoliosis specifically and also the social/emotional aspects of living with a physical disability.
Along the way, this book teaches about a lot more in addition to scoliosis. I found myself enthralled by Colman's descriptions of the Dust Bowl storms, dust pneumonia, and how people dealt with the hardships of this man-made ecological disaster. The details that Colman provides not only bring the story to life, but also evoke eerily familiar images of climate change and pandemics that bind the story even more to the reader. I literally got chills when I read the painfully familiar line "We're living in unprecedented times."
Where Only Storms Grow's connections to the modern world help to nail in all its themes. This novel explores family dynamics, the power of hope, and community, among many other equally powerful topics. Every page includes something for readers to connect with and learn from. But it's also not all doom and gloom! There's plenty of comedic relief (I adore Ruby the indoor chicken!) and joyous moments to breathe a perfect amount of levity into a story that otherwise has the potential to be incredibly heavy.
Although I cherished this novel, I also have to mention the reason I can't give it 5 stars: the ending. For a story with such emotional power and complex characters, the ending is rather abrupt and (dare I say) unsatisfying. Maybe this is just me wanting more of such an incredible story, but I wish there had been an extra chapter or two at the end to flesh out the impact of how everything wraps up. But other than that, I have few complaints.
Overall, Where Only Storms Grow is an easily lovable and refreshingly thoughtful story. It is great for historical fiction lovers and super accessible for younger readers. This novel is easy to connect with and highly educational in so many ways. I highly recommend this book if you're looking for stories about disabled characters or life during the Dust Bowl era.
adventurous
inspiring
medium-paced
4.0
Thank you to NetGalley and Farrar, Straus and Giroux for providing a temporary e-arc in exchange for an honest review.
As an environmentalist, the Dust Bowl is an era in American history that fascinates me to no end. While loads of sources will tell you about the millions of people who left their farms during the Dust Bowl, this novel focuses on a fictional family who stayed. In recent years, historical fiction novels have begun to grow on me, so I was all the more excited to give this one a read.
As an environmentalist, the Dust Bowl is an era in American history that fascinates me to no end. While loads of sources will tell you about the millions of people who left their farms during the Dust Bowl, this novel focuses on a fictional family who stayed. In recent years, historical fiction novels have begun to grow on me, so I was all the more excited to give this one a read.
"It sounds to me like we've each been carrying the same burden separately. Maybe we should try sharing the load."
-Alyssa Colman, Where Only Storms Grow
Where Only Storms Grow is told from the perspectives of 12-year-old twins Joanna and Howe Stanton. Through circumstances both necessary and unfortunate, much of the burden to save their family's farm falls onto the young twins. But their tense relationship and individual burdens make this task all the more daunting.
I found both Joanna and Howe to be compelling protagonists. While both twins face the same issue of saving the family farm, they also have their differences. Joanna and Howe have unique struggles, values, and aspirations that make each of their stories stand out. Howe's dreams of being a writer pull at readers' hearts, and his pain at being unable to pursue his passion is something to which many can relate. His yearning and passion are so vividly portrayed that you can't help but root for him along his journey.
Howe's twin sister, Joanna Stanton, is equally endearing. Smothered by her mother's concern for her scoliosis, Joanna often feels frustrated and hopeless. But when she gets a job at a local hospital, the entire world begins to open up for her. Joanna's character growth arc is nothing short of inspiring. And I don't just mean that in the "disabled people are inspiring" way, but in the "I love stories about people who learn to see potential in the world" way. Through her work, Joanna finds meaning, and I connect with this concept on a personal level, making her story all the more meaningful.
"I wasn't in any hurry to grow up -- it seemed like I already had enough responsibilities as it was -- but the thought of helping people and seeing a little bit of the world made the future feel like something it never had before: full of possibility."
-Alyssa Colman, Where Only Storms Grow
Of course, Joanna's disability is also an excellent part of Where Only Storms Grow. Author Alyssa Colman also has scoliosis, and Joanna's symptoms are largely based on her own. We all know that I'm a massive advocate for OwnVoices stories, and this is an excellent one. It's so rare to see disabilities represented in novels (or maybe I'm just not reading the right novels), but Colman does an outstanding job of weaving Joanna's scoliosis into her character and the overarching plot. I learned a lot about scoliosis specifically and also the social/emotional aspects of living with a physical disability.
Along the way, this book teaches about a lot more in addition to scoliosis. I found myself enthralled by Colman's descriptions of the Dust Bowl storms, dust pneumonia, and how people dealt with the hardships of this man-made ecological disaster. The details that Colman provides not only bring the story to life, but also evoke eerily familiar images of climate change and pandemics that bind the story even more to the reader. I literally got chills when I read the painfully familiar line "We're living in unprecedented times."
Where Only Storms Grow's connections to the modern world help to nail in all its themes. This novel explores family dynamics, the power of hope, and community, among many other equally powerful topics. Every page includes something for readers to connect with and learn from. But it's also not all doom and gloom! There's plenty of comedic relief (I adore Ruby the indoor chicken!) and joyous moments to breathe a perfect amount of levity into a story that otherwise has the potential to be incredibly heavy.
Although I cherished this novel, I also have to mention the reason I can't give it 5 stars: the ending. For a story with such emotional power and complex characters, the ending is rather abrupt and (dare I say) unsatisfying. Maybe this is just me wanting more of such an incredible story, but I wish there had been an extra chapter or two at the end to flesh out the impact of how everything wraps up. But other than that, I have few complaints.
Overall, Where Only Storms Grow is an easily lovable and refreshingly thoughtful story. It is great for historical fiction lovers and super accessible for younger readers. This novel is easy to connect with and highly educational in so many ways. I highly recommend this book if you're looking for stories about disabled characters or life during the Dust Bowl era.
"Asking for help isn't giving up. It's refusing to give up."
-Alyssa Colman, Where Only Storms Grow
Yellowface by R.F. Kuang
As I’ve gotten back into reading post-grad, I’ve been catching up on recent highly acclaimed books, so Yellowface was an obvious pick for my next read. After all, it was voted Readers’ Favorite Fiction in the Goodreads Choice Awards 2023. With the promise of social commentary and a page-turning plot, I dove right in and didn’t look back.
The first element to strike you as you read Yellowface, and what will continue to shock you throughout, is the strength of June’s voice. Told from a first-person perspective, this book places you directly into June’s mind and allows access to her attempts to justify herself. As we see how flippantly she explains away her racism with pretty words and cherry-picked factoids, it quickly becomes apparent that June genuinely does not see herself as a villain but as a victim.
This characterization makes June one of the most compelling characters (and unreliable narrators) I have read about in quite some time. Her self-aggrandizement paired with a lack of basic empathy makes her an absolute train wreck in a way that drew me in and forced me to keep reading.
And yet. Even as you recoil at June’s heinous actions and thoughts, you can’t help but relate to the emotions that drive them: the fear, the insecurity, the anger, the jealousy, the greed. Kuang wrote June’s emotions in such a palpable way that everything June does makes perfect sense, even if she’s still clearly wrong for doing them. This adds an excellent layer of horror to the reading experience as you recognize parts of yourself in the same character you hate beyond redemption.
Yellowface provides a never-before-seen commentary on the inside of the publishing industry. Critiquing the industry’s systemic racism and lottery-esque processes, Kuang takes us through June’s experiences as an unsuccessful white author, a successful presumed-to-be-Asian author, and a widely hated author.
Similarly, and closer to home for those of us who enjoy talking about books online, Yellowface tackles the issue of online discourse in the book community. While many of the public’s takes about June are accurate and necessary, Kuang also provides more nuance not often portrayed in media. There are moments when haters spin some of June’s genuinely innocent actions into additional evidence of her racist nature. These moments add depth that I did not expect but that launched Yellowface to another plane of excellence.
Yellowface is, above all else, satire. It points out the flaws in the aforementioned communities, and it does this incredibly well and with much tact. The commentary is admittedly a bit heavy-handed at times, and I don’t always prefer this style. However, I also understand that this choice makes the story and its messaging more accessible to a wider audience. This book’s widespread success is proof that Kuang succeeded in this goal, so I am happy to waive my own preferences in this case.
In addition to being satirical, Yellowface also has elements of a thriller woven throughout the story. The ways that these moments come into play not only add to the intrigue of the story but also another layer of “holy wow” as things come together. I won’t say more for fear of spoiling too much, so just know this book is incredible.
Overall, I was blown away by how much R.F. Kuang managed to pack into such an entertaining and easy-to-read novel. Filled to the brim with festering emotions, social commentary, and a compelling plot, Yellowface no doubt deserves every ounce of the praise it has earned.
If you have an interest in social issues (particularly racism), online discourse, or the book community at large, I could not recommend this book more! I can guarantee you’ll hear me recommending Yellowface for a looooong time, so get ready!
4.5
"I’m too deep into this now to confess. That is the only line I cannot cross.”
-R.F. Kuang, Yellowface
As I’ve gotten back into reading post-grad, I’ve been catching up on recent highly acclaimed books, so Yellowface was an obvious pick for my next read. After all, it was voted Readers’ Favorite Fiction in the Goodreads Choice Awards 2023. With the promise of social commentary and a page-turning plot, I dove right in and didn’t look back.
The first element to strike you as you read Yellowface, and what will continue to shock you throughout, is the strength of June’s voice. Told from a first-person perspective, this book places you directly into June’s mind and allows access to her attempts to justify herself. As we see how flippantly she explains away her racism with pretty words and cherry-picked factoids, it quickly becomes apparent that June genuinely does not see herself as a villain but as a victim.
This characterization makes June one of the most compelling characters (and unreliable narrators) I have read about in quite some time. Her self-aggrandizement paired with a lack of basic empathy makes her an absolute train wreck in a way that drew me in and forced me to keep reading.
And yet. Even as you recoil at June’s heinous actions and thoughts, you can’t help but relate to the emotions that drive them: the fear, the insecurity, the anger, the jealousy, the greed. Kuang wrote June’s emotions in such a palpable way that everything June does makes perfect sense, even if she’s still clearly wrong for doing them. This adds an excellent layer of horror to the reading experience as you recognize parts of yourself in the same character you hate beyond redemption.
“The truth is fluid. There’s always another way to spin the story, another wrench to throw into the narrative.”
-R.F. Kuang, Yellowface
Yellowface provides a never-before-seen commentary on the inside of the publishing industry. Critiquing the industry’s systemic racism and lottery-esque processes, Kuang takes us through June’s experiences as an unsuccessful white author, a successful presumed-to-be-Asian author, and a widely hated author.
Similarly, and closer to home for those of us who enjoy talking about books online, Yellowface tackles the issue of online discourse in the book community. While many of the public’s takes about June are accurate and necessary, Kuang also provides more nuance not often portrayed in media. There are moments when haters spin some of June’s genuinely innocent actions into additional evidence of her racist nature. These moments add depth that I did not expect but that launched Yellowface to another plane of excellence.
Yellowface is, above all else, satire. It points out the flaws in the aforementioned communities, and it does this incredibly well and with much tact. The commentary is admittedly a bit heavy-handed at times, and I don’t always prefer this style. However, I also understand that this choice makes the story and its messaging more accessible to a wider audience. This book’s widespread success is proof that Kuang succeeded in this goal, so I am happy to waive my own preferences in this case.
In addition to being satirical, Yellowface also has elements of a thriller woven throughout the story. The ways that these moments come into play not only add to the intrigue of the story but also another layer of “holy wow” as things come together. I won’t say more for fear of spoiling too much, so just know this book is incredible.
Overall, I was blown away by how much R.F. Kuang managed to pack into such an entertaining and easy-to-read novel. Filled to the brim with festering emotions, social commentary, and a compelling plot, Yellowface no doubt deserves every ounce of the praise it has earned.
If you have an interest in social issues (particularly racism), online discourse, or the book community at large, I could not recommend this book more! I can guarantee you’ll hear me recommending Yellowface for a looooong time, so get ready!
“Tell me, do I truly deserve that? Does anyone?” -R.F. Kuang, Yellowface
-R.F. Kuang, Yellowface
Wishing Well, Wishing Well by Jubilee Cho
5.0
Thank you to NetGalley and Atthis Arts for providing a temporary e-arc in exchange for an honest review.
On the surface, Wishing Well, Wishing Well is a fairytale-style story about five princesses who must save their people from a corrupt king. That alone makes a fantastic story, and in reality, it's also so much more than that. This is a tale of embracing your true self, rebelling against injustice, and injecting compassion into everything you do. Bound up in a beautiful blend of a vaguely medieval setting modern themes, and fantastical elements, Wishing Well, Wishing Well is a truly unique novel for all readers.
I must first discuss how much I adore all five princesses of Bellarossa. When I first picked up this novel knowing that it follows five princesses, I'll admit I was skeptical. I expected the princesses to fall into one of two unfortunate categories: they could easily blend together, utterly indistinguishable from one another, or they could become bland archetypes in an attempt to differentiate them. Luckily, neither of these was the case. Each sister has a strong, distinct personality without being an archetype. Jubilee Cho infused each one with just the right amount of personality and unique complexities to really bring them to life.
The sisters' individuality contributes to this novel's incredible representation of strong women. Instead of portraying "strong women" as a monolith, Cho goes the extra mile to show how women of different ages, identities, abilities, and personalities can all be strong in their own right. We see women who are shy, artistic, analytical, transgender, natural leaders, neurodivergent-coded, and so much more represented as being change-makers. The variety enables a broad range of readers to see themselves represented as both powerful and valuable.
This type of representation is infinitely valuable for readers of all ages. It is so refreshing to see a wide assortment of identities living their lives, doing good deeds, and experiencing joy and fulfillment. And in the case of marginalized identities, such as the neurodivergent-coded and transgender characters, this is done without the need to put their suffering under a microscope or exploit them in any way. These characters are allowed to simply exist without their identity being the main focus of the story. While stories focusing on marginalized groups are necessary and important (and I'm a huge fan of them!), we also need more books like Wishing Well, Wishing Well.
While the story is told through the lens of the five princesses, the world it presents is also so much bigger than them. The kingdom of Bellarossa is wrought with corrupt politicians who seek for the rich to get richer at the expense of the poor. Who has power is determined by money, ego, and knowing the right people, rather than by actual merit. The new, evil King Jean-Claude creates a state of desperation for his people in an attempt to get them to turn on one another. It is heartbreaking to watch the beloved kingdom fall into shambles, but equally motivating to see the Bellarossians work together to take it back.
It is rare to see such a nuanced social commentary woven into a book that, on its surface, is aimed at young readers. And yet, regardless of a reader's understanding of politics, the themes can be universally appreciated. The nuances of governmental corruption may only get through to more mature readers, but everyone can understand the lessons about caring for others. Compassion is a sentiment that is explored time and time again through different characters and actions, ensuring that it gets through to the audience.
This novel does more than just build up a corrupt government; it focuses more on characters who are motivated to tear it down. Each of the five princesses has an affinity for a different art, and they use these skills to save their kingdom. I love how even though the sisters all have their own projects, they all see themselves as working together. Their methods of rebellion may be different, but their goal is still the same. And it is their differences that strengthen their cause, since no one project is more important than the other. In this way, Cho provides readers with a strong message about activism: a wide variety of outlets, permeating every corner of our culture, will reach the most people and have the greatest impact.
Wishing Well, Wishing Well is a glorious celebration of human goodness. It inspires a passion for the arts, for humanity, and for a better world.
This novel is great for all ages: kids may latch onto the fairy tale aspects, teens will love the themes of empowerment, and adults will be enthralled by the corrupt politics and power struggles.
I would recommend this book to literally anyone. I know that's a broad statement, but I mean it with my whole heart. This novel will touch your soul in unexpected ways and awaken a desire to do more for the world. This is exactly the type of novel that everyone should be exposed to.
Full review on my blog.
"Why not err on the side of compassion?" -Jubilee Cho, Wishing Well, Wishing Well
On the surface, Wishing Well, Wishing Well is a fairytale-style story about five princesses who must save their people from a corrupt king. That alone makes a fantastic story, and in reality, it's also so much more than that. This is a tale of embracing your true self, rebelling against injustice, and injecting compassion into everything you do. Bound up in a beautiful blend of a vaguely medieval setting modern themes, and fantastical elements, Wishing Well, Wishing Well is a truly unique novel for all readers.
I must first discuss how much I adore all five princesses of Bellarossa. When I first picked up this novel knowing that it follows five princesses, I'll admit I was skeptical. I expected the princesses to fall into one of two unfortunate categories: they could easily blend together, utterly indistinguishable from one another, or they could become bland archetypes in an attempt to differentiate them. Luckily, neither of these was the case. Each sister has a strong, distinct personality without being an archetype. Jubilee Cho infused each one with just the right amount of personality and unique complexities to really bring them to life.
The sisters' individuality contributes to this novel's incredible representation of strong women. Instead of portraying "strong women" as a monolith, Cho goes the extra mile to show how women of different ages, identities, abilities, and personalities can all be strong in their own right. We see women who are shy, artistic, analytical, transgender, natural leaders, neurodivergent-coded, and so much more represented as being change-makers. The variety enables a broad range of readers to see themselves represented as both powerful and valuable.
This type of representation is infinitely valuable for readers of all ages. It is so refreshing to see a wide assortment of identities living their lives, doing good deeds, and experiencing joy and fulfillment. And in the case of marginalized identities, such as the neurodivergent-coded and transgender characters, this is done without the need to put their suffering under a microscope or exploit them in any way. These characters are allowed to simply exist without their identity being the main focus of the story. While stories focusing on marginalized groups are necessary and important (and I'm a huge fan of them!), we also need more books like Wishing Well, Wishing Well.
"Every new challenge he faced always seemed insurmountable at first, but that just made it all the more rewarding when he finally triumphed." -Jubilee Cho, Wishing Well, Wishing Well
While the story is told through the lens of the five princesses, the world it presents is also so much bigger than them. The kingdom of Bellarossa is wrought with corrupt politicians who seek for the rich to get richer at the expense of the poor. Who has power is determined by money, ego, and knowing the right people, rather than by actual merit. The new, evil King Jean-Claude creates a state of desperation for his people in an attempt to get them to turn on one another. It is heartbreaking to watch the beloved kingdom fall into shambles, but equally motivating to see the Bellarossians work together to take it back.
It is rare to see such a nuanced social commentary woven into a book that, on its surface, is aimed at young readers. And yet, regardless of a reader's understanding of politics, the themes can be universally appreciated. The nuances of governmental corruption may only get through to more mature readers, but everyone can understand the lessons about caring for others. Compassion is a sentiment that is explored time and time again through different characters and actions, ensuring that it gets through to the audience.
This novel does more than just build up a corrupt government; it focuses more on characters who are motivated to tear it down. Each of the five princesses has an affinity for a different art, and they use these skills to save their kingdom. I love how even though the sisters all have their own projects, they all see themselves as working together. Their methods of rebellion may be different, but their goal is still the same. And it is their differences that strengthen their cause, since no one project is more important than the other. In this way, Cho provides readers with a strong message about activism: a wide variety of outlets, permeating every corner of our culture, will reach the most people and have the greatest impact.
Wishing Well, Wishing Well is a glorious celebration of human goodness. It inspires a passion for the arts, for humanity, and for a better world.
This novel is great for all ages: kids may latch onto the fairy tale aspects, teens will love the themes of empowerment, and adults will be enthralled by the corrupt politics and power struggles.
I would recommend this book to literally anyone. I know that's a broad statement, but I mean it with my whole heart. This novel will touch your soul in unexpected ways and awaken a desire to do more for the world. This is exactly the type of novel that everyone should be exposed to.
"This world we live in is full of magic. Simply thriving with it. Magic that can be found anywhere and everywhere, but only if you have the faith to look." -Jubilee Cho, Wishing Well, Wishing Well
Full review on my blog.
Educated by Tara Westover
4.0
NOTE: Several events described in this book are straight-up gory. While the detailed descriptions of gore serve to flesh out the severity of Westover’s struggles, I want to mention this as a warning to future readers. If you’re squeamish about gore, this may not be the book for you.
When I first heard of this memoir, I knew it would be right up my alley. Books about Mormonism and/or cult-like religions always catch my interest, as do those which present an ode to the powers of knowledge and education. Educated is two for two on these topics, so I finally logged into my Libby app and checked out the audiobook from my local library.
Educated has quite an impact. The greatest takeaway I got from this read was just how massive the impact of knowledge is. We’ve all heard the saying “knowledge is power,” and Westover is living proof of how true it is. Seeing how her worldview and sense of self evolved seamlessly alongside her education is nothing short of exceptional. Educated is one of those books that makes you feel, in your soul, the power of knowing.
When I finished the book, one thought stood out prominently in my mind: I want to read everything. I feel so inspired by Westover’s acquisition and use of knowledge and her understanding of the world, and I have a new appreciation for how much a good book can impact your life. Since completing Educated, I have already begun searching for a broader range of books to add to my reading list. It is now a top priority to learn more about the topics that I’m not very well-versed in.
And that's huge! In my opinion, few things are better than a book that drives you to take action toward a better world. The mere fact that this memoir instilled me with such inspiration is one of the highest praises I can give any book. I sincerely hope that anyone else who reads it is struck with the same pull to read more, learn more, and do more for the world.
Another topic within Educated that drew me in was its discussion of medicine. Growing up, Westover’s family opposed modern medicine and licensed doctors. Instead, they depended solely on herbalism and other unconventional forms of medicine. Personally, I have an interest in herbalism and the medicinal powers of plants, so it was interesting to see a case where these practices are misused. I don’t want to spoil too much, so I won’t go into any details, but it gets pretty wild. I found this angle to be highly insightful, and it made me want to learn even more about herbalism and its abilities, limitations, and history.
Educated is also a beautiful exploration of family. The dynamics, the influences, the power struggles, the responsibilities (or lack thereof)... it’s all so deeply nuanced, and Westover captures every last bit of it. This book brings you along the journey, experiencing every push and pull right alongside the author. It’s rare to see such an honest discussion of how our family shapes so much of our lives, and I am so grateful that Westover was willing to share such a raw part of herself with the world in the form of this book.
Educated reminded me quite a bit of a different memoir, Uncultured by Daniella Mestyanek Young, which I enjoyed immensely. Perhaps it is unfair to compare the two, as Westover and Mastyanek Young are two completely different women with their own individual lives, but I’m comparing them anyway.
Each memoir has its own strengths, and I want to take a moment to highlight them. Educated tells many stories that depict a lifestyle wrought with a patriarch’s delusions. The parts of her life that Westover tells in detail each add another brushstroke that creates a greater picture, some seemingly inconsequential on their own but adding up to a greater image.
Uncultured did a better job of providing commentary on the impact that cults and cult-like groups can have on an individual. I found it to be a more emotional account of the horrors that Mestyanek Young faced in her young life. Also, I gleaned great value from the connections Uncultured draws between cults and the US military.
I bring this up to point out that Educated doesn’t comment much on the world outside of Westover’s life. Again, this is a fine approach and has its appeal, but I prefer memoirs that are more like Uncultured.
Overall, this memoir was truly incredible. Although not as emotionally driven as I prefer, its ability to inspire curiosity is moving in its own right. I would highly recommend Educated to anyone interested in extreme religions, complicated family dynamics, or knowledge itself. This is easily a new go-to memoir that I will be recommending often in the future.
Full review on my blog.
"My life was narrated for me by others. Their voices were forceful, emphatic, absolute. It had never occurred to me that my voice might be as strong as theirs."
-Tara Westover, Educated
When I first heard of this memoir, I knew it would be right up my alley. Books about Mormonism and/or cult-like religions always catch my interest, as do those which present an ode to the powers of knowledge and education. Educated is two for two on these topics, so I finally logged into my Libby app and checked out the audiobook from my local library.
Educated has quite an impact. The greatest takeaway I got from this read was just how massive the impact of knowledge is. We’ve all heard the saying “knowledge is power,” and Westover is living proof of how true it is. Seeing how her worldview and sense of self evolved seamlessly alongside her education is nothing short of exceptional. Educated is one of those books that makes you feel, in your soul, the power of knowing.
When I finished the book, one thought stood out prominently in my mind: I want to read everything. I feel so inspired by Westover’s acquisition and use of knowledge and her understanding of the world, and I have a new appreciation for how much a good book can impact your life. Since completing Educated, I have already begun searching for a broader range of books to add to my reading list. It is now a top priority to learn more about the topics that I’m not very well-versed in.
And that's huge! In my opinion, few things are better than a book that drives you to take action toward a better world. The mere fact that this memoir instilled me with such inspiration is one of the highest praises I can give any book. I sincerely hope that anyone else who reads it is struck with the same pull to read more, learn more, and do more for the world.
Another topic within Educated that drew me in was its discussion of medicine. Growing up, Westover’s family opposed modern medicine and licensed doctors. Instead, they depended solely on herbalism and other unconventional forms of medicine. Personally, I have an interest in herbalism and the medicinal powers of plants, so it was interesting to see a case where these practices are misused. I don’t want to spoil too much, so I won’t go into any details, but it gets pretty wild. I found this angle to be highly insightful, and it made me want to learn even more about herbalism and its abilities, limitations, and history.
Educated is also a beautiful exploration of family. The dynamics, the influences, the power struggles, the responsibilities (or lack thereof)... it’s all so deeply nuanced, and Westover captures every last bit of it. This book brings you along the journey, experiencing every push and pull right alongside the author. It’s rare to see such an honest discussion of how our family shapes so much of our lives, and I am so grateful that Westover was willing to share such a raw part of herself with the world in the form of this book.
"I am not the child my father raised, but he is the father who raised her."
-Tara Westover, Educated
Educated reminded me quite a bit of a different memoir, Uncultured by Daniella Mestyanek Young, which I enjoyed immensely. Perhaps it is unfair to compare the two, as Westover and Mastyanek Young are two completely different women with their own individual lives, but I’m comparing them anyway.
Each memoir has its own strengths, and I want to take a moment to highlight them. Educated tells many stories that depict a lifestyle wrought with a patriarch’s delusions. The parts of her life that Westover tells in detail each add another brushstroke that creates a greater picture, some seemingly inconsequential on their own but adding up to a greater image.
Uncultured did a better job of providing commentary on the impact that cults and cult-like groups can have on an individual. I found it to be a more emotional account of the horrors that Mestyanek Young faced in her young life. Also, I gleaned great value from the connections Uncultured draws between cults and the US military.
I bring this up to point out that Educated doesn’t comment much on the world outside of Westover’s life. Again, this is a fine approach and has its appeal, but I prefer memoirs that are more like Uncultured.
Overall, this memoir was truly incredible. Although not as emotionally driven as I prefer, its ability to inspire curiosity is moving in its own right. I would highly recommend Educated to anyone interested in extreme religions, complicated family dynamics, or knowledge itself. This is easily a new go-to memoir that I will be recommending often in the future.
"An education is not so much about making a living as making a person."
-Tara Westover, Educated
Full review on my blog.
The Midnight Library by Matt Haig
2.0
This novel's synopsis sounds incredible, right? Pair that with its high acclaim and abundant awards, and you're bound to enter this book expecting a masterpiece. Maybe my high expectations were part of this book's downfall, but I had really hoped for something groundbreaking when I went into The Midnight Library.
I don't usually like to write negative reviews, but I also believe it's important to speak up when a popular piece of media is so harmful. Let's start from the beginning.
Initial Impressions
I thought the premise of this book was fascinating. As I began to read, I found the story's setup to be well-written, attention-grabbing, and tension-building. We were off to a good start with many plotlines to explore and potential for a truly moving experience.
For a while, I remained on board with the hype. The Midnight Library has a unique premise and I was excited to explore Nora's alternate life paths as she remained in limbo between life and death. My desire to know more kept me reading: What will Nora find in her alternate lives? Will she find a better life in one of them, or was her initial path the best? I continued to read, curious to uncover Haig's insight on depression, regret, and a life worth living.
Soon enough, the novel took a turn for the worse.
Strike One
Maybe 15-20% into the book, a distaste began to gnaw at me, and it took a moment to place what was wrong. Once I put my finger on the issue, it was all I could see: The Midnight Library reeks of pretentiousness. I was early in the book, yet there were already one too many holier-than-though proclamations about free will and philosophy and how a person "should" approach life. Unfortunately, these moments continued throughout the entire book, some worse than others.
Now, I'm not one to let a single gripe ruin an entire book for me. I understand that I enter a novel with my own biases, and maybe there's something hard-wired in me to be put off by men who go on about philosophy (yes, Nora and Mrs Elm are women, but the author is a man, and his voice is consistent regardless of which character is speaking). And maybe, since I am already familiar with quantum physics and string theory, I was more inclined to find the explanations of these topics preachy rather than informative.
This issue seemed minor enough, so I was willing to set aside my grievances and see what else the book had in store.
Strike Two
As Nora continues to explore different alternate lives through the midnight library, she naturally meets a range of different people, most of whom I find insufferable.
Don't get me wrong. I adore an insufferable character here and there. I think they can add copious intrigue and tension to any story, and I am often thrilled when they enter the page. Done well, these characters make a book come to life.
Done poorly, however, we get a situation like The Midnight Library. Most characters in this novel can be sorted into two equally annoying categories: Those Who Philosophize and Those Who Don't. Characters like Nora, Mrs Elm, and Hugo who fall into the former group all have the same personality; I'm not sure I'd be able to tell them apart aside from them having different names, and that's a major issue.
Again, though, I was willing to continue to read despite this issue. Even though I couldn't stand the characters, I know that's often an issue of personal preference. Yet again giving The Midnight Library the benefit of the doubt, I read onward.
After all, my gripes aside, I thought the plot was still setting up for an emotional ending. And I still wanted to know what it is that so many people adore about this novel.
Strike Three
As the end of The Midnight Library approached, my hopes were still high despite my previous issues with the book. And, of all the endings I imagined, the one we got was perhaps the worst option.
The entire message of this book ends up falling somewhere between "You have so much to live for haha!" and "If you just change your perspective and practice gratitude, your depression will go away, silly!" For a book that talks about a topic as serious as depression, this is just not it.
There is little to no nuance present in this book's discussion of depression and mental illness, and its band-aid solutions are bound to do more harm than good for readers. I myself have MDD, and I can confirm that it is not cured by merely changing your mindset.
(For those who are curious, the only things that have actually improved my depression are hormone regulation via an IUD and leaving the American education system via graduating, lol. But everyone is different, so don't take this as advice.)
Depression is an illness that needs to be treated, the same as a liver disease, for example. One can't just think their way out of it. It is at best ignorant and at worst dangerous to portray Nora's extreme depression as being cured literally overnight simply because her worldview changes.
For such a highly acclaimed book, I was let down by its abysmal treatment of such a serious and delicate topic.
Overall Thoughts
I cannot, in good faith, recommend this book to you. If you have depression, this book just slaps you in the face and then laughs. And if you're not depressed, this is an awful way to learn more about the condition.
Instead, let me direct you toward some other media that you might enjoy more. If you're looking for something with feel-good energy and an uplifting message, I've been enjoying the Heartstopper series recently. And if you want the best, most accurate depiction of depression I've ever seen in media, I recommend you watch Bojack Horseman on Netflix. Just stay away from The Midnight Library.
Full review on my blog.
I don't usually like to write negative reviews, but I also believe it's important to speak up when a popular piece of media is so harmful. Let's start from the beginning.
Initial Impressions
I thought the premise of this book was fascinating. As I began to read, I found the story's setup to be well-written, attention-grabbing, and tension-building. We were off to a good start with many plotlines to explore and potential for a truly moving experience.
For a while, I remained on board with the hype. The Midnight Library has a unique premise and I was excited to explore Nora's alternate life paths as she remained in limbo between life and death. My desire to know more kept me reading: What will Nora find in her alternate lives? Will she find a better life in one of them, or was her initial path the best? I continued to read, curious to uncover Haig's insight on depression, regret, and a life worth living.
Soon enough, the novel took a turn for the worse.
Strike One
Maybe 15-20% into the book, a distaste began to gnaw at me, and it took a moment to place what was wrong. Once I put my finger on the issue, it was all I could see: The Midnight Library reeks of pretentiousness. I was early in the book, yet there were already one too many holier-than-though proclamations about free will and philosophy and how a person "should" approach life. Unfortunately, these moments continued throughout the entire book, some worse than others.
Now, I'm not one to let a single gripe ruin an entire book for me. I understand that I enter a novel with my own biases, and maybe there's something hard-wired in me to be put off by men who go on about philosophy (yes, Nora and Mrs Elm are women, but the author is a man, and his voice is consistent regardless of which character is speaking). And maybe, since I am already familiar with quantum physics and string theory, I was more inclined to find the explanations of these topics preachy rather than informative.
This issue seemed minor enough, so I was willing to set aside my grievances and see what else the book had in store.
Strike Two
As Nora continues to explore different alternate lives through the midnight library, she naturally meets a range of different people, most of whom I find insufferable.
Don't get me wrong. I adore an insufferable character here and there. I think they can add copious intrigue and tension to any story, and I am often thrilled when they enter the page. Done well, these characters make a book come to life.
Done poorly, however, we get a situation like The Midnight Library. Most characters in this novel can be sorted into two equally annoying categories: Those Who Philosophize and Those Who Don't. Characters like Nora, Mrs Elm, and Hugo who fall into the former group all have the same personality; I'm not sure I'd be able to tell them apart aside from them having different names, and that's a major issue.
Again, though, I was willing to continue to read despite this issue. Even though I couldn't stand the characters, I know that's often an issue of personal preference. Yet again giving The Midnight Library the benefit of the doubt, I read onward.
After all, my gripes aside, I thought the plot was still setting up for an emotional ending. And I still wanted to know what it is that so many people adore about this novel.
Strike Three
As the end of The Midnight Library approached, my hopes were still high despite my previous issues with the book. And, of all the endings I imagined, the one we got was perhaps the worst option.
The entire message of this book ends up falling somewhere between "You have so much to live for haha!" and "If you just change your perspective and practice gratitude, your depression will go away, silly!" For a book that talks about a topic as serious as depression, this is just not it.
There is little to no nuance present in this book's discussion of depression and mental illness, and its band-aid solutions are bound to do more harm than good for readers. I myself have MDD, and I can confirm that it is not cured by merely changing your mindset.
(For those who are curious, the only things that have actually improved my depression are hormone regulation via an IUD and leaving the American education system via graduating, lol. But everyone is different, so don't take this as advice.)
Depression is an illness that needs to be treated, the same as a liver disease, for example. One can't just think their way out of it. It is at best ignorant and at worst dangerous to portray Nora's extreme depression as being cured literally overnight simply because her worldview changes.
For such a highly acclaimed book, I was let down by its abysmal treatment of such a serious and delicate topic.
Overall Thoughts
I cannot, in good faith, recommend this book to you. If you have depression, this book just slaps you in the face and then laughs. And if you're not depressed, this is an awful way to learn more about the condition.
Instead, let me direct you toward some other media that you might enjoy more. If you're looking for something with feel-good energy and an uplifting message, I've been enjoying the Heartstopper series recently. And if you want the best, most accurate depiction of depression I've ever seen in media, I recommend you watch Bojack Horseman on Netflix. Just stay away from The Midnight Library.
Full review on my blog.
Dead Good Detectives by Jenny McLachlan
When I was roughly 8 years old, I went through a phase of reading every ghost book I could get my hands on. Ever since then, ghost stories have always held a special place in my heart, especially in middle grade fiction. So when I heard about Dead Good Detectives, which features not only ghosts but also pirates, witches, and a treasure hunt, you know it went on my TBR immediately.
The immersive, atmospheric setting immediately drew me into this story. Dead Good Detectives takes place in a dreary beach town brimming with personality. From local storeowners to quirky tourist attractions to the Pirate Day festivities, this town is like none other. It provides a perfect backdrop for all the antics that Sid and Zen get up to, and reading about this setting felt just like exploring any small beach town during its off-season. As a beach town enthusiast, I love it!
What truly brings this novel to life, though, is our protagonist Sidonie May “Sid” Jones. Sid has social anxiety, which immediately makes her relatable. But it also goes so much deeper than that. She shows quite a bit of reluctance to dive into helping a ghost who she accidentally summoned, showing more reason than a lot of fictional characters do. She’s very logical and finds ways to explain away everything she sees, even though the reader knows what’s really going on. She reacts to the story’s events in a way that any normal person would: with caution, skepticism, and denial. This makes it a lot easier to be on board with her journey and understand her motivations.
Told through Sid’s perspective, Dead Good Detectives has a fascinating narrative voice from the very start. As Sid and Zen play games together, the narrative glides seamlessly between reality and make-believe. There are a couple times where it’s hard to tell what’s real and what the kids are imagining, and I adored this choice. Blending reality and play brings such a youthful energy to the story, and it makes Sid feel like a real, relatable kid.
As for the plot itself, Lachlan does not disappoint in the slightest. In order to return Bones the ghost pirate to the dead, Sid has to help him complete his unfinished business: find his hidden treasure. Following Bones’ hand-drawn treasure map (shoutout to Chloe Dominique for all the adorable illustrations, by the way!) and other clues, Sid and Bones go on quite the journey to find the treasure before Bones fades. I’m a sucker for any book with a treasure/scavenger hunt of any kind, and this was no different. The whimsy of it all is utterly scrumptious, and it makes for a page-turning experience.
Dead Good Detectives is also so much more than just its lovable characters and whimsical story; it also explores several heartfelt, moving lessons. Throughout her journey, Sid learns how to embrace her quirks, be a good friend to her loved ones, and the value of selfless actions. Each lesson weaves seamlessly into the story without ever feeling preachy or cheesy, making them all the more impactful. I always love to see these types of values on display in media, and this novel does it so incredibly well.
I adore this novel to no end. It has the perfect blend of paranormal elements, relatable characters, and goofy humor that many readers will love. Especially if you’re a fan of ghosts or pirates, this novel will be a blast for you. And there’s a sequel! Dead Good Detectives has just the right amount of loose ends to make for a satisfying ending while keeping the reader itching for the next book.
So if you want a page-turning story to dive into, I highly recommend checking out this novel. If I had to describe it in just one word, it would be pure FUN!
Full review on my blog.
4.5
"I’m not really a school girl. I’m more of a graveyard girl.” -Jenny McLachlan, Dead Good Detectives
When I was roughly 8 years old, I went through a phase of reading every ghost book I could get my hands on. Ever since then, ghost stories have always held a special place in my heart, especially in middle grade fiction. So when I heard about Dead Good Detectives, which features not only ghosts but also pirates, witches, and a treasure hunt, you know it went on my TBR immediately.
The immersive, atmospheric setting immediately drew me into this story. Dead Good Detectives takes place in a dreary beach town brimming with personality. From local storeowners to quirky tourist attractions to the Pirate Day festivities, this town is like none other. It provides a perfect backdrop for all the antics that Sid and Zen get up to, and reading about this setting felt just like exploring any small beach town during its off-season. As a beach town enthusiast, I love it!
What truly brings this novel to life, though, is our protagonist Sidonie May “Sid” Jones. Sid has social anxiety, which immediately makes her relatable. But it also goes so much deeper than that. She shows quite a bit of reluctance to dive into helping a ghost who she accidentally summoned, showing more reason than a lot of fictional characters do. She’s very logical and finds ways to explain away everything she sees, even though the reader knows what’s really going on. She reacts to the story’s events in a way that any normal person would: with caution, skepticism, and denial. This makes it a lot easier to be on board with her journey and understand her motivations.
Told through Sid’s perspective, Dead Good Detectives has a fascinating narrative voice from the very start. As Sid and Zen play games together, the narrative glides seamlessly between reality and make-believe. There are a couple times where it’s hard to tell what’s real and what the kids are imagining, and I adored this choice. Blending reality and play brings such a youthful energy to the story, and it makes Sid feel like a real, relatable kid.
"Sometimes we must sail into a storm, no matter how scared we are.” -Jenny McLachlan, Dead Good Detectives
As for the plot itself, Lachlan does not disappoint in the slightest. In order to return Bones the ghost pirate to the dead, Sid has to help him complete his unfinished business: find his hidden treasure. Following Bones’ hand-drawn treasure map (shoutout to Chloe Dominique for all the adorable illustrations, by the way!) and other clues, Sid and Bones go on quite the journey to find the treasure before Bones fades. I’m a sucker for any book with a treasure/scavenger hunt of any kind, and this was no different. The whimsy of it all is utterly scrumptious, and it makes for a page-turning experience.
Dead Good Detectives is also so much more than just its lovable characters and whimsical story; it also explores several heartfelt, moving lessons. Throughout her journey, Sid learns how to embrace her quirks, be a good friend to her loved ones, and the value of selfless actions. Each lesson weaves seamlessly into the story without ever feeling preachy or cheesy, making them all the more impactful. I always love to see these types of values on display in media, and this novel does it so incredibly well.
I adore this novel to no end. It has the perfect blend of paranormal elements, relatable characters, and goofy humor that many readers will love. Especially if you’re a fan of ghosts or pirates, this novel will be a blast for you. And there’s a sequel! Dead Good Detectives has just the right amount of loose ends to make for a satisfying ending while keeping the reader itching for the next book.
So if you want a page-turning story to dive into, I highly recommend checking out this novel. If I had to describe it in just one word, it would be pure FUN!
Full review on my blog.
The Grace of Wild Things by Heather Fawcett
This book was initially described to me as “Anne of Green Gables but with witches and magic.” And that’s a top-notch sales pitch if I’ve ever heard one! I read Anne of Green Gables last October and utterly adored it, so I jumped right on this retelling as soon as I heard of it. I’m here to tell you that The Grace of Wild Things easily lives up to the classic tale from which it pulls inspiration, all while maintaining its own, unique identity as a stand-alone novel.
Looking back on this story, its lovable cast of characters is what stands out the most. Many of them form parallels with the characters we know and love from Anne of Green Gables, but Fawcett adds plenty of her own twists and quirks to make them entirely her own. Our protagonist Grace Greene has all the verbosity, imagination, and grit of Anne Shirley, with new aspects of her personality coming to life as she traverses her magical escapades. And the witch, reminiscent of Marilla Cuthbert, maintains a complexity and livability that weaves its way into readers’ hearts.
While many of the most iconic Anne of Green Gables scenes are represented in The Grace of Wild Things, this novel reinvents them in a way that is both fresh and imaginative. Because of Fawcett’s addition of magic, witches, and fairies to this story, it becomes a journey entirely of its own without being a one-for-one rip-off of Anne of Green Gables. The plot is new, the stakes are high, and every twist leaves the reader wondering “How in the world will Grace get through this?”
As for all the witchy stuff itself: this is exactly the sort of book I’ve been searching for. The vibes are immaculate. I adored following Grace along her journey as she reads the witch’s grimoire, collects ingredients, and casts spells. And for an extra touch of magic, several of the spells Grace casts are fully written out, and I can absolutely imagine young readers having great fun “casting these spells” for themselves.
These magical elements combine beautifully with descriptions of the natural landscape on Prince Edward Island. Grace’s world fully comes to life as she finds her place in her new home, adding to the unforgettable atmosphere of the novel. Teeming with life and color, readers will fall in love with both the forest and the nearby town that Grace gets to explore. The vibrancy of this location greatly adds to the suspense as Grace works to develop her magic in time to keep from losing it forever.
Woven throughout this novel’s classic charm and imaginative magic are several deeply emotional subplots. Exploring themes of home, family, and regret, The Grace of Wild Things will pull at readers’ hearts from multiple angles. We feel all the ups and downs with Grace through all her struggles and triumphs as she tries to cast 101.5 spells before time runs out. All the while, we get a heartwarming tale of Grace finding her place in the community and falling in love with her first-ever home.
The Grace of Wild Things is one of those rare novels I would recommend to people of all ages and interests. You don’t have to be at all familiar with Anne of Green Gables to enjoy this story to its fullest, and there are extra goodies thrown in for those who are.; this novel is reminiscent of the classic story without being a carbon copy.
Whether you’re looking for the witchy/cottagecore vibes, a fun adventure, or a deeply moving tale of belonging, this novel is the one for you. I highly recommend this to lovers of fantasy and literary fiction alike, and to those of all ages. The Grace of Wild Things is a novel I will love for a long time, and you’ll be hearing me rave about it again and again.
Full review on my blog.
5.0
"If you had too little imagination, you’d spend your life finding fault with everything, like Mrs. Spencer does, instead of noticing that there are beautiful things in the world alongside the horrible ones.”
-Heather Fawcett, The Grace of Wild Things
This book was initially described to me as “Anne of Green Gables but with witches and magic.” And that’s a top-notch sales pitch if I’ve ever heard one! I read Anne of Green Gables last October and utterly adored it, so I jumped right on this retelling as soon as I heard of it. I’m here to tell you that The Grace of Wild Things easily lives up to the classic tale from which it pulls inspiration, all while maintaining its own, unique identity as a stand-alone novel.
Looking back on this story, its lovable cast of characters is what stands out the most. Many of them form parallels with the characters we know and love from Anne of Green Gables, but Fawcett adds plenty of her own twists and quirks to make them entirely her own. Our protagonist Grace Greene has all the verbosity, imagination, and grit of Anne Shirley, with new aspects of her personality coming to life as she traverses her magical escapades. And the witch, reminiscent of Marilla Cuthbert, maintains a complexity and livability that weaves its way into readers’ hearts.
While many of the most iconic Anne of Green Gables scenes are represented in The Grace of Wild Things, this novel reinvents them in a way that is both fresh and imaginative. Because of Fawcett’s addition of magic, witches, and fairies to this story, it becomes a journey entirely of its own without being a one-for-one rip-off of Anne of Green Gables. The plot is new, the stakes are high, and every twist leaves the reader wondering “How in the world will Grace get through this?”
As for all the witchy stuff itself: this is exactly the sort of book I’ve been searching for. The vibes are immaculate. I adored following Grace along her journey as she reads the witch’s grimoire, collects ingredients, and casts spells. And for an extra touch of magic, several of the spells Grace casts are fully written out, and I can absolutely imagine young readers having great fun “casting these spells” for themselves.
"Plenty of talented people in this world are useless,’ the witch said. ‘It’s what you do with your talent that matters.”
-Heather Fawcett, The Grace of Wild Things
These magical elements combine beautifully with descriptions of the natural landscape on Prince Edward Island. Grace’s world fully comes to life as she finds her place in her new home, adding to the unforgettable atmosphere of the novel. Teeming with life and color, readers will fall in love with both the forest and the nearby town that Grace gets to explore. The vibrancy of this location greatly adds to the suspense as Grace works to develop her magic in time to keep from losing it forever.
Woven throughout this novel’s classic charm and imaginative magic are several deeply emotional subplots. Exploring themes of home, family, and regret, The Grace of Wild Things will pull at readers’ hearts from multiple angles. We feel all the ups and downs with Grace through all her struggles and triumphs as she tries to cast 101.5 spells before time runs out. All the while, we get a heartwarming tale of Grace finding her place in the community and falling in love with her first-ever home.
The Grace of Wild Things is one of those rare novels I would recommend to people of all ages and interests. You don’t have to be at all familiar with Anne of Green Gables to enjoy this story to its fullest, and there are extra goodies thrown in for those who are.; this novel is reminiscent of the classic story without being a carbon copy.
Whether you’re looking for the witchy/cottagecore vibes, a fun adventure, or a deeply moving tale of belonging, this novel is the one for you. I highly recommend this to lovers of fantasy and literary fiction alike, and to those of all ages. The Grace of Wild Things is a novel I will love for a long time, and you’ll be hearing me rave about it again and again.
"May it be, by sun and stars.”
-Heather Fawcett, The Grace of Wild Things
Full review on my blog.
Holy Ground: On Activism, Environmental Justice, and Finding Hope by Catherine Coleman Flowers
4.0
Thank you to NetGalley and Spiegel & Grau for providing an e-copy in exchange for an honest review.
Because she is such a prominent figure in environmental justice advocacy, Catherine Coleman Flowers has been one of my to-read authors for quite some time. And let me tell you this: she did not disappoint! _Holy Ground_ is a compelling and deeply personal exploration of how race and socio-economic status, among other factors, shape one's access to a clean, healthy, and safe life. In particular, this book features in-depth discussions of how systemic neglect disproportionately affects marginalized communities, intertwined with success stories that offer glimmers of hope throughout.
The author's thorough depiction of intersectionality is the book's greatest strength. Many of the essays in this book either feature or tie back to Flowers' hometown in Lowndes County, Alabama, and she paints a detailed picture of the diverse community of inhabitants. Different races, socio-economic statuses, religious beliefs, genders, and political views make for a vibrant community -- and difficulties regarding inequality and progress. As someone with an Environmental Sciences degree, I am familiar with discussions of these topics. However, _Holy Ground_ provides the most comprehensive and human-centered exploration I have encountered. For perhaps the first time, these concepts feel fully fleshed out, tangible, and urgently pressing.
Perhaps one of the most surprising—and at times, uncomfortable—aspects of the book is Flowers’ ability to find common ground across political ideologies. She praises politicians on both the left and right for their efforts in tackling sanitation inequality, a rare issue that seems to transcend party lines. While this bipartisan approach can feel unfamiliar and challenging, it underscores an important message: effective activism often requires working with people whose beliefs may not align entirely with our own. Flowers does not compromise her progressive stance but instead demonstrates how collaboration can lead to real, tangible change. Her approach is a testament to the idea that solutions to pressing social issues should not be hindered by political divisions.
Speaking of uncomfortable aspects of this book, Flowers includes many religious references and weaves her Christian viewpoint throughout several of her analyses. While this perspective does not appeal to me on a personal or spiritual level, I still believe that it adds depth to her arguments. Combining a sense of morality into our discussions of activism invokes a deeply human imperative to care for one another, and this viewpoint is one that I see echoes throughout a lot of environmental activism. Whether this morality comes from a religious base or not, it is always refreshing to see prominent activists advocating for community support. Flowers' explicitly Christian perspective will appeal to a large audience, even if it does not touch me personally.
If I have any critiques of _Holy Ground_, it is in the pacing. While compelling from the start, I found myself a good 30-40% into the book before any themes began to tie together into a more cohesive picture. Before that point, the essays felt almost entirely separate from one another. While this approach works in many cases, I knew that the essays in this book were meant to be more cohesive. And they were; it just took a long time for the strings to connect.
As an environmentalist myself, I found this book to be insightful and informative in a way that is both refreshing and deeply meaningful. I would highly recommend this book to anyone interested in learning more about environmental justice, public health, or activism, specifically in the American South. I personally will be seeking out more of Catherine Coleman Flowers' works and writings in the future.
Full review on my blog.
"In the darkest of times, hope is still possible. Indeed, it is essential."
-Catherine Coleman Flowers, Holy Ground
Because she is such a prominent figure in environmental justice advocacy, Catherine Coleman Flowers has been one of my to-read authors for quite some time. And let me tell you this: she did not disappoint! _Holy Ground_ is a compelling and deeply personal exploration of how race and socio-economic status, among other factors, shape one's access to a clean, healthy, and safe life. In particular, this book features in-depth discussions of how systemic neglect disproportionately affects marginalized communities, intertwined with success stories that offer glimmers of hope throughout.
The author's thorough depiction of intersectionality is the book's greatest strength. Many of the essays in this book either feature or tie back to Flowers' hometown in Lowndes County, Alabama, and she paints a detailed picture of the diverse community of inhabitants. Different races, socio-economic statuses, religious beliefs, genders, and political views make for a vibrant community -- and difficulties regarding inequality and progress. As someone with an Environmental Sciences degree, I am familiar with discussions of these topics. However, _Holy Ground_ provides the most comprehensive and human-centered exploration I have encountered. For perhaps the first time, these concepts feel fully fleshed out, tangible, and urgently pressing.
"The significance here is that a progressive senator and an extreme right-wing senator worked together in common cause for rural sanitation."
-Catherine Coleman Flowers, Holy Ground
Perhaps one of the most surprising—and at times, uncomfortable—aspects of the book is Flowers’ ability to find common ground across political ideologies. She praises politicians on both the left and right for their efforts in tackling sanitation inequality, a rare issue that seems to transcend party lines. While this bipartisan approach can feel unfamiliar and challenging, it underscores an important message: effective activism often requires working with people whose beliefs may not align entirely with our own. Flowers does not compromise her progressive stance but instead demonstrates how collaboration can lead to real, tangible change. Her approach is a testament to the idea that solutions to pressing social issues should not be hindered by political divisions.
Speaking of uncomfortable aspects of this book, Flowers includes many religious references and weaves her Christian viewpoint throughout several of her analyses. While this perspective does not appeal to me on a personal or spiritual level, I still believe that it adds depth to her arguments. Combining a sense of morality into our discussions of activism invokes a deeply human imperative to care for one another, and this viewpoint is one that I see echoes throughout a lot of environmental activism. Whether this morality comes from a religious base or not, it is always refreshing to see prominent activists advocating for community support. Flowers' explicitly Christian perspective will appeal to a large audience, even if it does not touch me personally.
If I have any critiques of _Holy Ground_, it is in the pacing. While compelling from the start, I found myself a good 30-40% into the book before any themes began to tie together into a more cohesive picture. Before that point, the essays felt almost entirely separate from one another. While this approach works in many cases, I knew that the essays in this book were meant to be more cohesive. And they were; it just took a long time for the strings to connect.
"The will to change is a renewable resource."
-Catherine Coleman Flowers, Holy Ground
As an environmentalist myself, I found this book to be insightful and informative in a way that is both refreshing and deeply meaningful. I would highly recommend this book to anyone interested in learning more about environmental justice, public health, or activism, specifically in the American South. I personally will be seeking out more of Catherine Coleman Flowers' works and writings in the future.
Full review on my blog.
Anne of Green Gables by L.M. Montgomery
5.0
5 Stars
It would be a crime for me to review this book without gushing over the lovable nature of our dear protagonist Anne Shirley. Her inner moral compass is steadfast, and this part of her is nurtured by those around her, making Anne a refreshingly good-hearted person. Anne's flair for the dramatic, lofty ambitions, and vast imagination combine to form an excellent role model for readers of all ages. Time and time again, I often found myself thinking, "Wow, the world really needs more people like Anne."
Anne's enthrallment with the details of her world, big or small, is beyond admirable; she sees beauty in everything and doesn't hesitate to express her adoration in a grand speech. As lovable as this quality is, I admit that there were moments throughout the book when I was occasionally alongside the other characters who get exasperated with Anne's long-windedness. While her verbose nature adds charm to Anne's character, I will warn that it causes the book to drag on at times.
Anne of Green Gables carries the reader through Anne's upbringing, with most chapters containing a new problem/shortcoming that she must overcome. In some ways, there are times when the novel almost feels more like a collection of short stories rather than a cohesive unit. When I was just past the midway point of the book, I found myself wishing for more of an overarching plot. However, by the time I reached the beautiful ending, my opinion had changed. The story that Montgomery has crafted is one of emotion rather than action, with strong themes that unfold and deepen as you read, crafting a heart-wrenching depiction of what it means to mature.
Montgomery's beautiful prose pulls at your emotions in all the best ways. You will laugh, ache, and rejoice right alongside Anne as she finds her footing at Green Gables. You will explore the natural wonders on Prince Edward Island, enjoy Anne's delicious academic rivalry, and fall in love with the residents of Avonlea. Even as Anne grows and changes, the spark that defines her remains constant through the gorgeously satisfying end of the novel.
NOTE: For the sake of thoroughness, I would like to mention that this book contains some outdated ideals and viewpoints, especially regarding religion and physical appearance. That being said, I feel that these depictions are non-intrusive, help to paint a more vivid picture of Avonlea, and are accurate to the period.
The most endearing aspect of Anne of Green Gables is its loveable cast of characters. Every person in Avonlea has their own vivid personality, and even when they clash it is easy to empathize with each individual's motives. This leads to many a heartwarming friendship, the most notable being between Anne and Diana. A perfect depiction of girlhood, their connection as "bosom friends" brings the reader back to simpler days of youthful joy and all-consuming love.
Anne of Green Gables exceeded my already-high expectations set by its Netflix adaptation, and in many ways made me appreciate the TV show even more. I look forward to continuing the book series in the near future, and when I read all of the books I plan to write a full review/comparison of Anne of Green Gables and Anne With an E.
Recommendation & Rating:
Overall, Anne of Green Gables is a wondrous, romantical experience of a novel. Though it has its slower moments, every word builds up an ode to the world as told through the life of one sprightly girl. I would strongly recommend this novel to those looking for a feel-good slice of life that unveils the beauty of the human experience.
Full review on my blog.
It would be a crime for me to review this book without gushing over the lovable nature of our dear protagonist Anne Shirley. Her inner moral compass is steadfast, and this part of her is nurtured by those around her, making Anne a refreshingly good-hearted person. Anne's flair for the dramatic, lofty ambitions, and vast imagination combine to form an excellent role model for readers of all ages. Time and time again, I often found myself thinking, "Wow, the world really needs more people like Anne."
"It's been my experience that you can nearly always enjoy things if you make up your mind firmly that you will."
Anne's enthrallment with the details of her world, big or small, is beyond admirable; she sees beauty in everything and doesn't hesitate to express her adoration in a grand speech. As lovable as this quality is, I admit that there were moments throughout the book when I was occasionally alongside the other characters who get exasperated with Anne's long-windedness. While her verbose nature adds charm to Anne's character, I will warn that it causes the book to drag on at times.
Anne of Green Gables carries the reader through Anne's upbringing, with most chapters containing a new problem/shortcoming that she must overcome. In some ways, there are times when the novel almost feels more like a collection of short stories rather than a cohesive unit. When I was just past the midway point of the book, I found myself wishing for more of an overarching plot. However, by the time I reached the beautiful ending, my opinion had changed. The story that Montgomery has crafted is one of emotion rather than action, with strong themes that unfold and deepen as you read, crafting a heart-wrenching depiction of what it means to mature.
Montgomery's beautiful prose pulls at your emotions in all the best ways. You will laugh, ache, and rejoice right alongside Anne as she finds her footing at Green Gables. You will explore the natural wonders on Prince Edward Island, enjoy Anne's delicious academic rivalry, and fall in love with the residents of Avonlea. Even as Anne grows and changes, the spark that defines her remains constant through the gorgeously satisfying end of the novel.
NOTE: For the sake of thoroughness, I would like to mention that this book contains some outdated ideals and viewpoints, especially regarding religion and physical appearance. That being said, I feel that these depictions are non-intrusive, help to paint a more vivid picture of Avonlea, and are accurate to the period.
The most endearing aspect of Anne of Green Gables is its loveable cast of characters. Every person in Avonlea has their own vivid personality, and even when they clash it is easy to empathize with each individual's motives. This leads to many a heartwarming friendship, the most notable being between Anne and Diana. A perfect depiction of girlhood, their connection as "bosom friends" brings the reader back to simpler days of youthful joy and all-consuming love.
Anne of Green Gables exceeded my already-high expectations set by its Netflix adaptation, and in many ways made me appreciate the TV show even more. I look forward to continuing the book series in the near future, and when I read all of the books I plan to write a full review/comparison of Anne of Green Gables and Anne With an E.
Recommendation & Rating:
Overall, Anne of Green Gables is a wondrous, romantical experience of a novel. Though it has its slower moments, every word builds up an ode to the world as told through the life of one sprightly girl. I would strongly recommend this novel to those looking for a feel-good slice of life that unveils the beauty of the human experience.
"Dear old world', she murmured, 'you are very lovely, and I am glad to be alive in you."
Full review on my blog.
Ravenfall by Kalyn Josephson
To kick off October, I wanted a book with cozy Halloween vibes, and Ravenfall felt like the perfect match. I've always been a sucker for ghosts, Celtic mythology, or a lovable animal companion, and this book has them all!
I was immediately smitten with the atmosphere of Ravenfall. This is one of the most "October" books I have ever read. The Halloween season plays a hefty role in the vibes of the novel, with pumpkin spice everything and decorations galore. Add ghosts on top of that, and you have a perfect Halloween feeling throughout.
I fully understand why people call this book "cozy." In addition to the fall atmosphere, the majority of the book takes place around Ravenfall Inn, where we see Anna and her family carry out the daily chores of caring for an inn. We get to know the town of Wick and all its magical (and non-magical) inhabitants. From a magical greenhouse visit to an enchanted tea shop, the cozy vibes run deep.
As much as I loved spending time in the world of Ravenfall, I do feel that the story is a little too heavy on building up the coziness. Roughly the first one-third of the book consists of very few plot points, opting instead for a meandering path focused on setting the mood. While I don't always mind this style of storytelling, it made the pacing feel unbalanced, especially since the action picks up rapidly toward the end.
One thing that Josephson does incredibly well in Ravenfall is including positive representation of diverse characters. We see many side characters of different races and sexualities, and they all make Wick feel more full of life.
Because I talk a lot about queer representation on this blog, I want to highlight this in particular. Ravenfall includes many members of Anna's extended family as they gather at the inn for Samhain. This gives us the opportunity to see Anna's sister Rose and uncle Roy in w/w and m/m relationships, respectively. Additionally, my favorite detail of queer representation comes from this one single sentence toward the start of the novel, from Anna's perspective:
It's incredibly rare to see aromanticism and/or asexuality represented in media, so seeing it in one of the protagonists and in a middle-grade novel is a huge win in my opinion. I look forward to seeing how this representation might expand throughout the series. (Happy Ace Week, by the way!)
Despite the excellent queer representation, though, many of Ravenfall's characters are otherwise hit-or-miss. Starting with our two main characters, Anna and Colin: they fall a bit flat. Neither one makes many large decisions throughout the book, resulting in a story that unfolds on its own accord without the protagonists driving it forward. The lack of cause-and-effect removes any satisfaction that you hope for as a reader, as any wins that the characters experience don't feel earned.
Furthermore, both protagonists have so much potential for depth that is not explored in Ravenfall. Anna in particular grapples with a Youngest Child Inferiority Complex that could lead to some deeply moving character growth. However, this opportunity is entirely left on the table. I would love to see more about how this issue affects her relationships and self-image, and I can only hope this occurs throughout the rest of the series.
As for characters I absolutely adored, I cannot talk about this book without mentioning the house of Ravenfall Inn itself. Built from the wood of paranormal trees, Ravenfall Inn is sentient. It plays favorites, helping Anna with her chores while passive-aggressively slamming doors in other people's faces, among other antics. The house was my favorite character in Ravenfall, and I particularly loved its friendship with Max, the jabberwocky who takes the form of a black cat to keep the inn's residents safe.
Overall, Ravenfall is an incredibly fun read, but I cannot overlook its admittedly forgettable nature. The lack of agency that the protagonists display makes it difficult to root for them in any meaningful way. That being said, the revelations in the last few chapters leave a lot of potential for the series to pop off, so I am keeping my hopes up.
I would recommend this book to anyone looking for a light-hearted Halloween feel. It's an easy read with an incredible atmosphere and lovable moments, making it an excellent choice for cozying up on a crisp autumn day.
Full review on my blog.
3.5
"Anna holds her drink out to Elaine. 'To the long and recently dead,' she says gently.
'May they stay that way for the days to come.'"
-Kalyn Josephson, Ravenfall
To kick off October, I wanted a book with cozy Halloween vibes, and Ravenfall felt like the perfect match. I've always been a sucker for ghosts, Celtic mythology, or a lovable animal companion, and this book has them all!
I was immediately smitten with the atmosphere of Ravenfall. This is one of the most "October" books I have ever read. The Halloween season plays a hefty role in the vibes of the novel, with pumpkin spice everything and decorations galore. Add ghosts on top of that, and you have a perfect Halloween feeling throughout.
I fully understand why people call this book "cozy." In addition to the fall atmosphere, the majority of the book takes place around Ravenfall Inn, where we see Anna and her family carry out the daily chores of caring for an inn. We get to know the town of Wick and all its magical (and non-magical) inhabitants. From a magical greenhouse visit to an enchanted tea shop, the cozy vibes run deep.
As much as I loved spending time in the world of Ravenfall, I do feel that the story is a little too heavy on building up the coziness. Roughly the first one-third of the book consists of very few plot points, opting instead for a meandering path focused on setting the mood. While I don't always mind this style of storytelling, it made the pacing feel unbalanced, especially since the action picks up rapidly toward the end.
One thing that Josephson does incredibly well in Ravenfall is including positive representation of diverse characters. We see many side characters of different races and sexualities, and they all make Wick feel more full of life.
Because I talk a lot about queer representation on this blog, I want to highlight this in particular. Ravenfall includes many members of Anna's extended family as they gather at the inn for Samhain. This gives us the opportunity to see Anna's sister Rose and uncle Roy in w/w and m/m relationships, respectively. Additionally, my favorite detail of queer representation comes from this one single sentence toward the start of the novel, from Anna's perspective:
"He's the kind of cute Kara would have teased me about before I finally told her that I have no interest in romance and dating, and never will."
-Kalyn Josephson, Ravenfall
It's incredibly rare to see aromanticism and/or asexuality represented in media, so seeing it in one of the protagonists and in a middle-grade novel is a huge win in my opinion. I look forward to seeing how this representation might expand throughout the series. (Happy Ace Week, by the way!)
Despite the excellent queer representation, though, many of Ravenfall's characters are otherwise hit-or-miss. Starting with our two main characters, Anna and Colin: they fall a bit flat. Neither one makes many large decisions throughout the book, resulting in a story that unfolds on its own accord without the protagonists driving it forward. The lack of cause-and-effect removes any satisfaction that you hope for as a reader, as any wins that the characters experience don't feel earned.
Furthermore, both protagonists have so much potential for depth that is not explored in Ravenfall. Anna in particular grapples with a Youngest Child Inferiority Complex that could lead to some deeply moving character growth. However, this opportunity is entirely left on the table. I would love to see more about how this issue affects her relationships and self-image, and I can only hope this occurs throughout the rest of the series.
As for characters I absolutely adored, I cannot talk about this book without mentioning the house of Ravenfall Inn itself. Built from the wood of paranormal trees, Ravenfall Inn is sentient. It plays favorites, helping Anna with her chores while passive-aggressively slamming doors in other people's faces, among other antics. The house was my favorite character in Ravenfall, and I particularly loved its friendship with Max, the jabberwocky who takes the form of a black cat to keep the inn's residents safe.
"'Anna smirks. 'Don't worry. He's just messing with you.'
'Messing with me?' I repeat. 'He's a cat.'
'And a darn convincing one too.'"
-Kalyn Josephson, Ravenfall
Overall, Ravenfall is an incredibly fun read, but I cannot overlook its admittedly forgettable nature. The lack of agency that the protagonists display makes it difficult to root for them in any meaningful way. That being said, the revelations in the last few chapters leave a lot of potential for the series to pop off, so I am keeping my hopes up.
I would recommend this book to anyone looking for a light-hearted Halloween feel. It's an easy read with an incredible atmosphere and lovable moments, making it an excellent choice for cozying up on a crisp autumn day.
Full review on my blog.