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thebakersbooks's reviews
269 reviews
The Screaming Staircase by Jonathan Stroud
2.0
Author overdescribes everything, which sucks since he is also a misogynist who seems to have a problem with fat people. Haven't seen that level of fatphobia directed against a child character since Harry Potter. Really happy the Lockwood & Co Netflix series did better by George.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Fatphobia
From Below by Darcy Coates
adventurous
mysterious
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
4.5
Sorrowland by Rivers Solomon
adventurous
emotional
tense
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.5
An Unkindness of Ghosts by Rivers Solomon
challenging
emotional
inspiring
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
Content Warnings
Graphic: Child death, Pedophilia, Racism, Violence, Slavery, Death, Blood, Child abuse, Racial slurs, Rape, Sexual assault, Classism, Grief, Physical abuse, and Sexual violence
Moderate: Injury/Injury detail, Pedophilia, Transphobia, Blood, and Torture
Minor: Self harm, Suicidal thoughts, Homophobia, Body shaming, Abortion, and Forced institutionalization
The Partition Project by Saadia Faruqi
emotional
inspiring
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
The Stand-In by Lily Chu
emotional
funny
hopeful
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.5
4.5/5 stars — alternately tense, funny, and poignant
This might be a good book for the older crowd that reads young adult anyway—this has the tone and some shared tropes with YA contemporary romances, but deals with the more adult issues of career/finances and aging parents. I really liked how the story took its time following the threads of all three major characters and their family dynamics.
other high points of the book for me:
- discussions about differing treatment/acceptance of visible mental illness between cultures (the main character and one major supporting character have depression and experience panic attacks)
- this conversation about the double standard of expecting non-politicians from certain foreign countries especially to publicly address political issues: "Do Canadian actors speak out against your own country's abuses?" "Not often." "Do you ever think about why we're responsible for answering for our government when they're not responsible for yours?"
Finally, on a personal note, I have beef with this author because the planner/organization app called Eppy that the MC develops in-book looks and sounds incredible but it (of course) is a work of fiction and I can't actually use it! (This is a joke. But I do want that app.)
a very incomplete list of content notes: anti-Chinese racism by unsympathetic characterss, racist bias (alternately toward or against, depending on the source) regarding mixed-race people; described unwanted sexual advances and past sexual assault
This might be a good book for the older crowd that reads young adult anyway—this has the tone and some shared tropes with YA contemporary romances, but deals with the more adult issues of career/finances and aging parents. I really liked how the story took its time following the threads of all three major characters and their family dynamics.
other high points of the book for me:
- discussions about differing treatment/acceptance of visible mental illness between cultures (the main character and one major supporting character have depression and experience panic attacks)
- this conversation about the double standard of expecting non-politicians from certain foreign countries especially to publicly address political issues: "Do Canadian actors speak out against your own country's abuses?" "Not often." "Do you ever think about why we're responsible for answering for our government when they're not responsible for yours?"
Finally, on a personal note, I have beef with this author because the planner/organization app called Eppy that the MC develops in-book looks and sounds incredible but it (of course) is a work of fiction and I can't actually use it! (This is a joke. But I do want that app.)
a very incomplete list of content notes: anti-Chinese racism by unsympathetic characterss, racist bias (alternately toward or against, depending on the source) regarding mixed-race people; described unwanted sexual advances and past sexual assault
Content Warnings
Moderate: Sexual assault, Racism, and Sexual harassment
Minor: Grief, Panic attacks/disorders, and Death of parent
Cemetery Boys by Aiden Thomas
adventurous
emotional
inspiring
sad
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
5/5 stars — a poignant, heart-stopping story culminating in tragedy and joy
When I say I want more representation of marginalized groups in science fiction and fantasy, Cemetery Boys is case in point. Main character Yadriel is a gay, trans, Latinx boy, and the cast includes mostly other people of color, several of whom are also queer. The characters’ ethnicities, religions, genders, and sexualities play into the story, but they’re not all the story’s about. It’s hard to discuss this without seeming dismissive of the need for a range of good representation across genres, but there’s a place for both books that center the real-world struggles and triumphs of marginalization and books where those struggles and triumphs happen alongside ghost stories and magic. But what I appreciated most about Cemetery Boys was that while the difficulties of existing at the crux of several marginalized identities cropped up in the story, the main sources of pain/drama/angst came from fantasy sources that weren’t identity-centered.
Cemetery Boys also drives home a point that critics of fanfiction—and of fanfic writers, both past and current—repeatedly fail to understand. The point is this: it doesn’t matter if you know how the story’s going to turn out; even if you’ve seen it play out similarly a hundred times before and you see where it’s going, the author can deliver that conclusion in an emotionally satisfying way. I don’t know if Aiden Thomas has written fanfic (my money says yes), but even though I guessed the antagonist and some elements of the climax around halfway through the book, the ending contained plenty of surprises in its execution. It’s why we say “trope” isn’t a bad word—tropes exist for a reason, and they don’t always have to be used in surprising ways to bring a story to a brilliant end.
Frankly, the fact that the antagonist and end twist were guessable pretty early in the book might be my only critique of Cemetery Boys. This is one of my favorite books ever, nearly perfect from the standpoints of craft and pure enjoyment value. Like his protagonist, Thomas is trans, gay, and Latinx, so his understanding of the nuance of the ways those identities intersect shines through in Yadriel. Only part of that identity applies to me, but the realness of Yadriel’s moments of joy, pain, and awkwardness were validating—particularly to a younger and more confused version of me. Despite everything this book puts its characters through, it left me feeling hopeful.
So, the story: What starts out as Yadriel’s quest to prove to his family and community that he’s a brujo with all the abilities that implies becomes the perilous search for a killer who’s disappearing young Latinx people—among them, a boy named Julian. When Yadriel’s friend Maritza and Julian’s friend Luca volunteer to help in the search for Julian, things get even more complicated. Friendships form an enduring theme in Cemetery Boys—it’s clear when an author thinks romance is more important than friendship, and that definitely wasn’t the case here. Maritza and Luca are very different kinds of friends (one snarky, one soft) but both are ride or die when the safety of their loved ones is at stake. Similarly, family is both a source of strength and conflict in the story, but it’s never pushed aside by the writing or framed as second to *relationship drama* or anything else.
In fact, the romance in Cemetery Boys is, for all its angst and potential for tragedy, not a huge part of the book. In parts where it was the focus, I never found it overpowering compared to other plot events. Also, I thought the romantic relationship did a great job of avoiding insta-love territory. Yadriel initially finds Julian inconvenient and annoying and only slowly decides that he’s attractive. It takes even longer before any kind of rapport develops between them and that turns into romance. (Although, as romantic gestures go, scribbling out your crush’s deadname in his yearbook and writing his real name over it is up there.)
Thomas’ knack for creating real-feeling characters and gradually picking them apart leads to some absolutely gutting moments. Even though you can see the heartbreak coming, that doesn’t make it hurt any less when it actually happens! And I mean that as a compliment. Characterization may be one of the author’s strong suits, but certainly not the only one. The book is full of stunningly descriptive imagery, especially describing angry teenagers, churches, and Día de Muertos details like sugar skulls and marigolds. Although—or maybe because —it makes time to show detail and build elaborate character relationships, the pacing never lags in the second act, nor does anything feel rushed in the third. The emotional beats fall where they should, embellished by brutally raw dialogue and more of that gorgeous descriptive prose.
Let’s talk about gender-affirming worldbuilding for a second. The magic system in Cemetery Boys is described as being built around a gender binary: brujas heal living people who suffer; brujos guide spirits who are lost. The magic itself correctly identifies Yadriel as male, so when he tries to perform a female-only ability, it backfires, whereas the male-only one works. (Also, the binary-ness turns out to be partially a product of Yadriel as a narrator with a narrow scope of history: as Julian later points out, there must have been nonbinary brujx and others who didn’t conform to the narrow binary system in the past.) On this subject, the brujx’ knives or rosaries are used to indicate things about their characters—the style, whether they’re adorned with extra charms, etc., which is the kind of fun yet functional worldbuilding I love to see. Finally, I’d be remiss not to mention how the world and its magic are based on various Latinx cultures. I’m not Latinx, so I’m sure I missed some of the references/details, but I enjoyed the way traditions from various places mixed during Día de Muertos and among the brujx in general. And I liked how if there was a long or complex passage in Spanish, it's translated into English, but individual words—even those that weren’t obvious cognates, like sobrino—weren’t translated. People can Google that stuff if they don't know it and can't infer the meaning!
Random good parts that may not all make sense out of context but that I would be remiss not to point out
- an immediate, first-chapter indication that Yadriel is trans (I think he mentions his binder or something) without spelling it out super obviously
- the MC is a SHORT trans boy! Yadriel bemoans that he’s only “a little over five feet”
- “His dead name slipped from her mouth,” instead of actually using the old name is an excellent way of dealing with trans names.
- Julian’s intro is really cool! Definitely one of the most unique ways to introduce a love interest I’ve ever read.
- so nice that Julian, despite being introduced as an archetypical ‘bad boy,’ accepts that Yadriel is trans without any big deal, and thinks it’s messed up that others don’t treat Yadriel (in his own words) like a “real boy.
- “My tacos!” - Julian, finding moldy food on the ground.
- Tito, the spirit gardener who tended flowers all his life and continues to grow them in death—especially flowers for Día de los Muertas, which are his pride and joy.
- Maritza’s family’s pitbulls, Michelangelo and Donatello
- cempasúchil! Every instance where they were described sounded so pretty.
- the romance: “How could he possibly recover from falling for Julian Diaz?” and “Yadriel would happily let himself be consumed by Julian’s fire.”
- an actual non-forced, naturally incorporated meme: “I’ve been—dude, stop screaming—”
This book ripped my heart out and glued it back together wrong way out. That is to say: I give it my highest recommendation, particularly to young people likely to relate to Yadriel and/or Julian. The writing is stellar, the audiobook narration is excellent, and the overall package is absolutely worth your time. (I’d like to mention here that Avi Roque, a trans Latinx narrator, was a great choice for the storytelling and really made the characters come alive. This was apparently their first audiobook narration, too!)
Content notes: death of a loved one; repeated mention of death, dying, and grief; graphic depiction of death on-page; mention of shooting and stabbing; gangs; parental/familial abuse; youth homelessness; transphobia including misgendering and mentioned deadnaming, police profiling based on race
When I say I want more representation of marginalized groups in science fiction and fantasy, Cemetery Boys is case in point. Main character Yadriel is a gay, trans, Latinx boy, and the cast includes mostly other people of color, several of whom are also queer. The characters’ ethnicities, religions, genders, and sexualities play into the story, but they’re not all the story’s about. It’s hard to discuss this without seeming dismissive of the need for a range of good representation across genres, but there’s a place for both books that center the real-world struggles and triumphs of marginalization and books where those struggles and triumphs happen alongside ghost stories and magic. But what I appreciated most about Cemetery Boys was that while the difficulties of existing at the crux of several marginalized identities cropped up in the story, the main sources of pain/drama/angst came from fantasy sources that weren’t identity-centered.
Cemetery Boys also drives home a point that critics of fanfiction—and of fanfic writers, both past and current—repeatedly fail to understand. The point is this: it doesn’t matter if you know how the story’s going to turn out; even if you’ve seen it play out similarly a hundred times before and you see where it’s going, the author can deliver that conclusion in an emotionally satisfying way. I don’t know if Aiden Thomas has written fanfic (my money says yes), but even though I guessed the antagonist and some elements of the climax around halfway through the book, the ending contained plenty of surprises in its execution. It’s why we say “trope” isn’t a bad word—tropes exist for a reason, and they don’t always have to be used in surprising ways to bring a story to a brilliant end.
Frankly, the fact that the antagonist and end twist were guessable pretty early in the book might be my only critique of Cemetery Boys. This is one of my favorite books ever, nearly perfect from the standpoints of craft and pure enjoyment value. Like his protagonist, Thomas is trans, gay, and Latinx, so his understanding of the nuance of the ways those identities intersect shines through in Yadriel. Only part of that identity applies to me, but the realness of Yadriel’s moments of joy, pain, and awkwardness were validating—particularly to a younger and more confused version of me. Despite everything this book puts its characters through, it left me feeling hopeful.
So, the story: What starts out as Yadriel’s quest to prove to his family and community that he’s a brujo with all the abilities that implies becomes the perilous search for a killer who’s disappearing young Latinx people—among them, a boy named Julian. When Yadriel’s friend Maritza and Julian’s friend Luca volunteer to help in the search for Julian, things get even more complicated. Friendships form an enduring theme in Cemetery Boys—it’s clear when an author thinks romance is more important than friendship, and that definitely wasn’t the case here. Maritza and Luca are very different kinds of friends (one snarky, one soft) but both are ride or die when the safety of their loved ones is at stake. Similarly, family is both a source of strength and conflict in the story, but it’s never pushed aside by the writing or framed as second to *relationship drama* or anything else.
In fact, the romance in Cemetery Boys is, for all its angst and potential for tragedy, not a huge part of the book. In parts where it was the focus, I never found it overpowering compared to other plot events. Also, I thought the romantic relationship did a great job of avoiding insta-love territory. Yadriel initially finds Julian inconvenient and annoying and only slowly decides that he’s attractive. It takes even longer before any kind of rapport develops between them and that turns into romance. (Although, as romantic gestures go, scribbling out your crush’s deadname in his yearbook and writing his real name over it is up there.)
Thomas’ knack for creating real-feeling characters and gradually picking them apart leads to some absolutely gutting moments. Even though you can see the heartbreak coming, that doesn’t make it hurt any less when it actually happens! And I mean that as a compliment. Characterization may be one of the author’s strong suits, but certainly not the only one. The book is full of stunningly descriptive imagery, especially describing angry teenagers, churches, and Día de Muertos details like sugar skulls and marigolds. Although—or maybe because —it makes time to show detail and build elaborate character relationships, the pacing never lags in the second act, nor does anything feel rushed in the third. The emotional beats fall where they should, embellished by brutally raw dialogue and more of that gorgeous descriptive prose.
Let’s talk about gender-affirming worldbuilding for a second. The magic system in Cemetery Boys is described as being built around a gender binary: brujas heal living people who suffer; brujos guide spirits who are lost. The magic itself correctly identifies Yadriel as male, so when he tries to perform a female-only ability, it backfires, whereas the male-only one works. (Also, the binary-ness turns out to be partially a product of Yadriel as a narrator with a narrow scope of history: as Julian later points out, there must have been nonbinary brujx and others who didn’t conform to the narrow binary system in the past.) On this subject, the brujx’ knives or rosaries are used to indicate things about their characters—the style, whether they’re adorned with extra charms, etc., which is the kind of fun yet functional worldbuilding I love to see. Finally, I’d be remiss not to mention how the world and its magic are based on various Latinx cultures. I’m not Latinx, so I’m sure I missed some of the references/details, but I enjoyed the way traditions from various places mixed during Día de Muertos and among the brujx in general. And I liked how if there was a long or complex passage in Spanish, it's translated into English, but individual words—even those that weren’t obvious cognates, like sobrino—weren’t translated. People can Google that stuff if they don't know it and can't infer the meaning!
Random good parts that may not all make sense out of context but that I would be remiss not to point out
- an immediate, first-chapter indication that Yadriel is trans (I think he mentions his binder or something) without spelling it out super obviously
- the MC is a SHORT trans boy! Yadriel bemoans that he’s only “a little over five feet”
- “His dead name slipped from her mouth,” instead of actually using the old name is an excellent way of dealing with trans names.
- Julian’s intro is really cool! Definitely one of the most unique ways to introduce a love interest I’ve ever read.
- so nice that Julian, despite being introduced as an archetypical ‘bad boy,’ accepts that Yadriel is trans without any big deal, and thinks it’s messed up that others don’t treat Yadriel (in his own words) like a “real boy.
- “My tacos!” - Julian, finding moldy food on the ground.
- Tito, the spirit gardener who tended flowers all his life and continues to grow them in death—especially flowers for Día de los Muertas, which are his pride and joy.
- Maritza’s family’s pitbulls, Michelangelo and Donatello
- cempasúchil! Every instance where they were described sounded so pretty.
- the romance: “How could he possibly recover from falling for Julian Diaz?” and “Yadriel would happily let himself be consumed by Julian’s fire.”
- an actual non-forced, naturally incorporated meme: “I’ve been—dude, stop screaming—”
This book ripped my heart out and glued it back together wrong way out. That is to say: I give it my highest recommendation, particularly to young people likely to relate to Yadriel and/or Julian. The writing is stellar, the audiobook narration is excellent, and the overall package is absolutely worth your time. (I’d like to mention here that Avi Roque, a trans Latinx narrator, was a great choice for the storytelling and really made the characters come alive. This was apparently their first audiobook narration, too!)
Content notes: death of a loved one; repeated mention of death, dying, and grief; graphic depiction of death on-page; mention of shooting and stabbing; gangs; parental/familial abuse; youth homelessness; transphobia including misgendering and mentioned deadnaming, police profiling based on race
Content Warnings
Graphic: Death
Moderate: Transphobia and Racism
Minor: Gun violence, Police brutality, and Grief
Ikenga by Nnedi Okorafor
adventurous
emotional
mysterious
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.5
4.5/5 stars — an action- and emotion-filled quest for justice
As a kid fascinated by superheros, I would've loved this book! As an adult who likes the Hulk specifically, I enjoyed sharing that with main character Nnamdi, and enjoyed even more when he acquired his own Hulk-like form via a magical ikenga given to him by his dead father.
In Ikenga, Nnamdi, his mother, and his best friend mourn the death of Nnamdi's father, an upstanding police chief who cared for his community and never accepted bribes. Nnamdi suspects local criminal elements are behind his father's murder; he sets out to solve the mystery, sleuthing as his usual twelve-year-old self and punching out bad guys as his massive, shadowy alter ego. He grapples with grief and anger as he learns to control "The Man." One of my favorite aspects of the book was the baked-in message that boys can and should feel a full range of emotions. I also liked Nnamdi's friend Chioma—their rapport felt like a throwback to childhood, and I think/hope it'll read as equally genuine to kids today.
My only quibbles with the book were a bit of classism at the beginning (Nnamdi thinking his mother is better than the other people selling goods at the market because they’d once had more money and status) and the way the whodunit turned out at the end.It felt to me like Nnamdi should've been right with his second accusation (of the new, corrupt police chief). Having the guy who published the newsletters be the murderer felt a bit far-fetched, in my opinion. Overall, though, it was a really entertaining read/listen with an excellent narrator and a plot that held my attention. I'd definitely recommend it to middle-grade readers (8-12) and the lower end of the YA range as well!
Content notes: death of a parent, some violence
As a kid fascinated by superheros, I would've loved this book! As an adult who likes the Hulk specifically, I enjoyed sharing that with main character Nnamdi, and enjoyed even more when he acquired his own Hulk-like form via a magical ikenga given to him by his dead father.
In Ikenga, Nnamdi, his mother, and his best friend mourn the death of Nnamdi's father, an upstanding police chief who cared for his community and never accepted bribes. Nnamdi suspects local criminal elements are behind his father's murder; he sets out to solve the mystery, sleuthing as his usual twelve-year-old self and punching out bad guys as his massive, shadowy alter ego. He grapples with grief and anger as he learns to control "The Man." One of my favorite aspects of the book was the baked-in message that boys can and should feel a full range of emotions. I also liked Nnamdi's friend Chioma—their rapport felt like a throwback to childhood, and I think/hope it'll read as equally genuine to kids today.
My only quibbles with the book were a bit of classism at the beginning (Nnamdi thinking his mother is better than the other people selling goods at the market because they’d once had more money and status) and the way the whodunit turned out at the end.
Content notes: death of a parent, some violence
Content Warnings
Moderate: Death of parent
Minor: Violence