Open Throat is a curious novella - we’re in the head of a mountain lion who lives beneath the Hollywood sign as they contemplate their place in the world and make astoundingly sharp observations about humanity. They’re a creature that is both ignorant of human life and a creature who has been violently othered by society.
The lion is hungry. Dangerously hungry. Ravenously hungry. And they’re also curious about the humans that pass through: They eavesdrop on local hikers and feel protective of the homeless encampment nearby. They struggle with their emotions and ability to express themselves, reflect on their past, and think about their future.
Meanwhile, human cruelty & climate danger forces the lion to leave the hills, and they explore more of Los Angeles and its inhabitants. They come face to face with humans, and have to confront their own conflicting desires to eat them and to emulate them.
“I have no idea what it's like to be a person and to be confronted with a me”
It never feels gimmicky, though it is sometimes funny. Mostly, though, it’s profoundly sad. The lion never once has a space that is their own, and never once is perceived in a way that feels right. They’ve been forced out of territories by climate disasters, they witness sadistic acts of violence that humans inflict just because they can, and they’ve been attacked or abandoned by their own kind.
There are moments of literal queerness, but this is mostly a metaphorical journey. The lion is an outsider who has true desires that are shamed by those who cannot understand them. They have a hunger for connection, they contemplate changing their shape and truth to better fit in, and the moment they embrace their fangs they find themselves in true peril.
You’ll be pleasantly touched by some of the lion’s noticings, but also leave feeling a bit cynical about humanity and its future.
And I loved all the (as unreliably narrated as it was) insight into pre-Resurrection events. So much soul-swapping fuckery and so many Biblical themes/swirling theology and curious little details. Nom nom nom. Ah ah ah.
A very charming story about grief, healing, and re-finding home & love in new community. The eccentric cast of characters and charismatic house will get you hooked, and the arcs around loss will tug at your heartstrings.
We Are Hunted is a twisty, vivid story with animal horror and anti-capitalist and anti-colonization vibes.
Femi is less-than-thrilled to tag along with his dad and brother to an exclusive conference on a mysterious island. But he’s heard all about Darlendia, discovered by the famous innovator Richard Jenkins and filled with bizarre animals and habitats, luxurious resort amenities, and the coolest technology.
It’s all a bit too good to be true, and Femi soon stumbles into the terrible truths of the island – and a plan to expose Jenkins and reverse his schemes. Except that plan involves a lot of bloodshed. And the animals might not be so docile after all.
My favorite moments here were the immersive descriptions and creativity surrounding the animals and the land, the native population fighting back (though of course things went VERY far), and the arc surrounding brotherhood.
The pacing is incredibly slow at first - with some scenes dragging on far too long - but the tension is great. And then everything EXPLODES. There’s a lot of blood and gore and pain and some heart wrenching deaths. Nobody is safe, and things got quite dark for a young adult book.
My biggest stumble here was probably the dialogue. Everything was a bit too precise; it just didn’t sound how most people (especially teenagers) talk to each other. The lines were often stilted and unnatural, and internal monologues were a bit strange as well. There was also some heavy religious (Christian) theming towards the end, which may turn some people off.
Femi has a major arc and learns how to better communicate with his family members, which I appreciated. He also has a deep love of music and never lets go of his creativity.
An element I couldn’t quite make up my mind on were the interludes narrated by various characters. I appreciated getting out of Femi’s head and was curious about some of the backstories, but I do think they chopped up the pacing and felt like they were only there to deliver information that we could have learned otherwise.
The stakes couldn’t be higher and the ending of the book flies by – though not everything worked smoothly for me, I think young readers will have their heads buried in this one.
CW: murder, death (child/parent), animal cruelty/death, body horror, blood, gore, grief, guns, car accident, chronic illness, classism, colonization, vomit
The Dead Take the A Train is a whirlwind of gritty mayhem - with a LOT of cosmic gore. I mostly had fun, but never felt truly in sync with the characters, their thoughts, or how exactly magic worked in this world.
Julie Crews is a messy magic user trying to scrape by in NYC, though even the simplest of gigs seems to get her into trouble. And when she summons a guardian angel in an attempt to protect her best friend (and forever love), she ends up unleashing a chaotic entity eager to consume every human on its path.
Things that flowed for me: the heightened language, the grotesque creatures and bits of gore, the satirical elements around Wall Street and corporate hunger, the sprinklings of lore.
Things that made me stumble: the character/romantic development, uneven battle scenes (everyone was simultaneously overpowered and underpowered), tension that fizzled out right at the end.
It felt like a lot of this was setup for a series, but I needed time to get to know & care about each of the characters first. I was intrigued - and found most of them likable enough - but didn’t think that anyone got a truly interesting character arc. I wanted to feel more grounded in their heads so that I would be more anxious about the infinite number of very bad things happening to them.
And we get big confrontations that never come, characters that seem to learn nothing (Julie, HOW ARE YOU THIS INCOMPETENT), and villains that don’t get their comeuppance (yet? ever?). Also there is a LOT of violence towards women if you are sensitive to that.
But there are some very fun bits of capitalist satire, two awesome supporting characters that kept me going, and some very distressing creatures (complimentary).
The Unfinished was an immersive & haunting piece of folkloric forest horror.
Avery is an avid runner - and she’s hopeful that her athleticism will lead to a scholarship so she can head to college - but her whole already-messy life is derailed when she stumbles across a strange pond in the middle of the forest. She’s always dismissed rumblings about the black water as small town myths, and feels disconnected from her Kanyen’kehá:ka (Mohawk) family.
But the black water begins to haunt her, and it’s hungry for souls. Avery’s friends and loved ones are in danger, and she may have to embrace her culture to get answers. And make a choice: heed the warnings from her Elders, or risk everything to save the people that matter most?
Avery is a compelling (and super relatable) main character. She’s got a lot of anxiety about change, and she tucks all of that away so hard it hurts. She’s still reeling from her parents’ complicated relationship and divorce, and knows that her little family has money troubles that no one will openly discuss. Avery is scared to name the things she wants (like tell her best friend that she’s in love with him) and of being vulnerable in general - just like her mom, whose fear has kept both of them from leaning into their Kanyen’kehá:ka culture.
Those are big hurdles for Avery, and her challenge is to break all those cycles of pain, but she’s also got a lot going for her. She’s determined, she’s funny, and she’s always there for her friends. She does her best to do the right thing.
I thought the supporting characters were wonderful as well. There aren’t many human antagonists here, just a lot of people with different secrets and anxieties that shape them in different ways. The whole town of Crook’s Falls tucks away trauma instead of opening up, and that wiggles its way into everyone, from Avery’s trio of best friends to her great aunt whose mind is failing her to Elders who disengage instead of risking pain.
The horror aspects were oh-so-brilliant. The atmospheric terror of the forest and the black sludge water, the changing reflections, the faceless entities that slowly shift towards you … it was genuinely scary. And there’s a memory-altering aspect that made Avery feel so, so alone at first, and that hurt. She had to lean into community in order to truly battle this thing.
I love cyclical evils, and the patterns of this one were intriguing. I feel like the book ended just a smidge too soon, and I wished that Avery had been given a true faceoff opportunity. There were also some character fates left unknown which hurt, but the ending message of truthfulness leading to genuine connection was beautiful.
Overall, this was a great read. Especially if you like the sort of terror that tickles the back of your shoulder and disappears into the shadows, if the thought of something looking back at you from your reflection makes you tremble, and if you believe one too many stories about straying off of forest paths.
This was also the first time I had heard of Heartdrum - a publishing imprint (under HarperCollins) for young readers that is Native-focused. I’ll definitely have to check out other books published under Heartdrum!
CW: death (parent/child), animal death, racism, violence, chronic illness, dementia, grief, gaslighting, body horror, panic attacks, mental health, dementia, fire
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Compound Fracture is a rallying cry to young queer people who never give up, a warm hug for family that is doing their best, and a love letter to hometowns that are messy, but still yours.
This is Andrew Joseph White’s first book set in our world exactly as it is now (just a handful of years ago, right after Trump was elected), and while there are extreme antagonists and ghostly moral compasses, it’s truly about teenagers fighting for (and envisioning) a better future.
Miles didn’t ask to be part of a 100-year-old blood feud. But he’s sure as hell not going to let his family continue to be beat down. Yet on the very night he decides to both come out to his family as trans AND pass along photo evidence that proves power-hungry Sheriff Davies caused a tragic car accident, he’s attacked and nearly dies.
He’s a ferocious researcher and a budgeoning socialist – and he’s obsessed with the start of the feud, when his great-great-grandfather started miners’ rebellion and ended up with a railroad spike through his head. So when a ghostly miner appears at the foot of his hospital bed, Miles is even more certain that it’s up to him (maybe with some help from his trusty dog, Lady) to break the cycle.
Miles’ love for his home is uncomplicated and unwavering, and so much of this book felt personal & vulnerable. He challenges small-minded thinking and doesn’t accept nonsense from anyone, but there’s also a lot of compassion and care for his hometown. Plot points covered (some briefly) include opioid addiction & fear of that happening to you, access to healthcare, and the many realities of rural poverty. Though Miles feels isolated in some ways, he finds such a strong micro community throughout the book - and his parents and extended family are open and earnest to connect with him, even though they don’t quite understand. All of the characters (except a handful of villains) charmed me and felt very whole and very real.
I adored Miles’ narration! He’s full of nerves about coming out, but he’s secure in his identity. He’s smart, unwavering in his convictions, and pretty darn angry. I actually would have loved the chance to see a bit more growth from him - to see him stumble with a friend and really sit with those consequences and learn how to be better. But his mistakes are glossed over very quickly.
Let’s talk about the disability rep – I thought it was incredible. While I’m not autistic, my chronic illness comes with a lot of similar sensory issues, and I had several moments of “wait, I’m not the only one that does this?” and “AJW, kindly extract yourself from my brain”! There are also some wonderful scenes where Miles begins to discover his aromantic identity.
I would have loved to get a fuller picture of Sheriff Davies and Noah. AJW’s antagonists are always distressingly foul, but here they felt particularly like cartoon-style villains. I also think the closing was very neat - people came together almost too quickly and there didn’t seem to be any true consequences - but sometimes it’s nice to have a happy ending.
All in all, Compound Fracture was an incredible story. There’s teeth and fangs and gore like always (but don’t worry about Lady the dog - she’s a very-alive-hero by the end of the story). There’s earnest community and optimism that maybe we really can reshape all the systemic pain of our world. There’s a beautiful reminder that trans people have always existed.
CW: murder, death (parent/child), gun violence, gore, transphobia (deadnaming, misgendering, outing), police brutality, animal cruelty/death, addiction, hate crime, grief, classism, fire, car accident, ableism, torture, panic attacks, mental illness, vomit
Absolutely WONDERFUL concept - remaking the legend of La Llorona as a physical & supernatural incarnation of generational trauma passed through Mexican American women - that unfortunately lacked in execution.
This was a very dry, very choppy, very clunky book. On a sentence level, there was just no variety or flow anywhere. There were various narrators from various time periods, and they all spoke exactly the same way. These all should have been INCREDIBLY different characterizations, but even the monster’s voice was hard to distinguish!
When there were moments of reckoning and realization, those were very plainly told to the reader through awkward dialogue. The therapy sessions in particular were painful. I like to feel like I’m in conversation with stories - like they are a breathing entity in my hands - but this felt school-essay-like in its delivery.
The scares were great in theory, but I felt as though I was layering my own imaginative skill over bare bones to deliver on the horror aspect.
Again, this was a beautiful, clever, creative concept. And I could see what this book could have become - but it fell entirely flat for me.
CW: suicide, suicidal ideation, death (parent/child), body horror, self harm, blood & gore, toxic relationship, mental illness, abuse, pregnancy, miscarriage, abandonment, sexism, racism, gaslighting, colonization, religious bigotry, xenophobia, rape (offscreen), war
Island Witch is a dark, moody, and very slow burn historical horror story set in 19th century Sri Lanka.
Amara is the demon-priest’s daughter, and though her family was once respected, the villagers have distanced themselves after British Colonizers started taking over her island. She’s comfortable keeping to herself and enjoying her walks in the jungle … until the vicious attacks started.
Men are mauled one after the next, and all eyes in the village are on Amara’s family. Amara believes her father is innocent and wants to clear his name, but she’s being haunted. She knows something happened to her, but she’s not sure if the supernatural entity that stalks her dreams is real or something else is messing with her mind.
There are interesting threads here - especially around colonization and classism and imposing societal expectations that lead to moral panic. Amara’s whole village almost instantly turns on her family (while still using her father’s services), even when they’ve been considered a pivotal part of the community for so long. You can see the build up to almost mob mentality.
The other major theme here is that women are never the masters of their own fates. They’re shoved around and suppressed and bullied and manipulated by the men surrounding them. There is a little bit of female rage, but honestly it’s mostly just depressing. The ending was a weak link for me - I generally wanted Amara to claim some agency and kept waiting for her to lean into her anger, but it felt like she was a puppet in her own story from start to finish without a significant character arc.
This is a slow-moving piece - very slow. I think the writing sometimes increased the atmospheric horror and tension very well, but it also sometimes dragged and lulled in a way that kept making me lose interest. I set this book down so many times. Maybe the prologue (which was intense, supernatural, and very action-heavy) gave the book a detached start, but the pacing overall was just very strange. I also think a lot of the elements and antagonists were very predictable, and Amara was devastatingly naive.
But what kept bringing me back was the rich jungle setting and the folklore. I love monsters & myths, and the supernatural elements here were an absolute delight. I also think the exploration of the ripples of impact that colonization has in a small community were really fascinating.
Overall - fascinating concepts and a very grounded world that were weakened by uneven pacing and a slightly lackluster conclusion.
CW: death (parent), murder, rape, sexism, incest, classism, gore, body horror, nonconsensual abortion, colonization, bullying, domestic abuse, child abuse, pregnancy, infidelity, gaslighting, vomit, pedophilia, animal cruelty/death, fire
Ohhh what a brilliant little story. It’s a modern fantasy bursting with rich folklore, an unlikely trio on a journey, and conversations around belonging & bigotry.
Dymitr is a mysterious mortal with a powerful plant who keeps his secrets & emotions tucked away. Ala is a zmora, and has watched a deadly curse hop from family member to family member until it crawls into her. And Niko is a powerful stryzgon who has what both of them need.
Our trio travels through Chicago, finding themselves in mystical layers just beneath the bustling city. They meet a variety of mythological beings and challenge each other to open up about their most protected truths, all on their way to find a powerful witch.
This has EXCELLENT pacing, great character & world development, and a compelling 36-hour plot. I would love to read more stories set in this world.
When Among Crows captures the joy and pain of ancestry and heritage, pockets of Poland in America, and figuring out where you stand in your family’s legacy. It’s a tale of sacrifice as magic, of surviving religious persecution, of atonement, justice, and redemption.
(Also: when I first started this I was like, “hey, I know a lot of these characters from Witcher 3!” and then it turns out Witcher 3 inspired Veronica Roth, so I feel very satisfied. I mean, and we’re both Polish.)
CW: murder, death (parent/child), blood & gore, violence, body horror, grief, child abuse, self harm (in the name of religion), religious bigotry, animal death, xenophobia